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sorrow-already-spoiled · 4 months

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To All the Ones I’ve Loved Before

Malakai Perish

Malakai, you were the first person I ever loved. My brother, my twin, the other half of my soul, my anchor. Our childhood living arrangements were so absent of affection that I swear only the burning warmth in my heart that came with your unconditional love kept me from freezing to death in that house. On the worst of days, the ones where I faced the iron of Alexsandra’s wrath, you were always there beside me. We would pick up the pieces together, in the cramped space beneath my bed. We would dream of the day we could run away from there together. Away from our absent father, abusive mother and elder siblings. Our pinky promise upheld to the bitter end.

The day we turned 16 we packed our bags and slipped away in the night. Even with all my expensive tastes, I still sometimes miss that wreck of an apartment we spent the first few years in, with its rat infestation and broken heater that left us clinging together for warmth. How could I be cold, knowing that I would never be alone? That you loved me? You took some awful work (we both did) to make us enough money to have real stability. It wasn’t easy, but I was never scared, because for the first time in our life we had a home to always return to. I may not believe in any gods, but I am forever grateful to whatever force in the universe decided that you and I would be together in this life, and every other one too.

Love, the light to your shadow, Faye

Quinn Feratra

Quinn, meeting you was a workplace hazard. I was freshly 18, with a full face of makeup and more skin exposed than covered. The casino floor was some god awful patterned carpet that would have been tasteless when it was new in the 80’s. The place reeked of spilled spirits and arrogance. Rich men with wedding rings tucked away in their back pockets let wandering eyes crawl across me. It felt like punishment, and I could admit in quiet midnights that part of me was desperate just to feel something. It was laughably easy to link my arm though one of theirs, to smile with fluttered eyelashes and cheer at their victories.

“Come home with me,” they would whisper.

“Handsome, my time isn’t cheap,” a flirtatious wink, “am I worth it?”

They always said I was. At the time I was sure it wasn’t true.

Excusing myself to “freshen up for you, baby,” I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, manicured nails pressing sharply against the dull marble. Rent was due soon. If I had played that man well enough, maybe I could have gotten ahead of the payments, let Malakai rest for even a few days. It would have broken his heart if he knew what ‘working night shift at a casino’ really meant. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the frustrated tears from welling up in my eyes.

“Bad night?” You were standing at the sink next to mine, washing your hands. I felt my heart skip a beat. I had thought I was alone.

“It’s fine.” I snapped at you.

“...bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” You rested your hip against the counter, turning to look at me with quietly observant eyes.

“I said bullshit. It’s clearly not fine.”

“And what gives you, a complete stranger, the right?” Indignation burned in my chest, furious at my own transparency. You offered me your hand.

“Quinn Feratra. And I don’t think you should go home with that creep you were all over out there.” Somehow I found myself going home with you instead, the guilt of unpaid bills hanging over my heart.

Back then, time with you was always stolen. Every moment I spent with you was a moment I was afraid Mal and I would be evicted, or that we wouldn’t have enough money for the month. I was tearing myself in half trying to balance the happiness I felt spending time with you and the things I did to ensure stability for Mal and I. Money was always an issue, and I constantly had to lie or hide things from both you and my brother. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and horribly insecure. The more exhausted I got, the less energy I could afford to spend convincing myself I was important, not when I would rather spend that energy on you. I recognize in retrospect how flawed that mindset was. When you finally managed to pin me down for a conversation, I turned it into an argument, which then turned into bitter frustrations. I was the one to run.

“You knew what I was when we met, so don’t blame me.”

“Faye, I’m not–”

“Don’t bother. I’m done with this.” The door to your apartment slammed with finality, and I felt hollow. Only when that door was closed did I recognize I was in love with you, but it was too late. I couldn’t go back, and I felt I couldn’t be enough for someone as wholly good as you. I cried myself to sleep in Malakai’s arms, refusing to answer his unspoken questions. I did not allow myself to cry again.

With love and a heavy heart, Faye

Jemon Morale

Jem, you were warm enough to melt the frost I’d built up. A few years later Mal and I had saved enough for a decent apartment, and I was even able to go back to school, working towards an accounting certification. I was meticulous with money, and Mal had suggested I turn it into a career. It wasn’t exciting, but it was stable, and I enjoyed the routine. I crunched pennies to feel less guilty about rewarding myself with cheap coffees at a little coffee shop near our home. Headphones in, I would crunch out a week's worth of homework in the hours between class and closing time.

A small plate set down onto the table softly, drawing my attention upwards to your lovely green eyes.

“Sorry to disturb you, you just work so hard every time I see you in here, I thought you deserved something for it?” A perfect croissant drizzled in decadent chocolate and powdered sugar rested on the pale blue plate.

“Oh, I couldn’t take this, I haven’t paid for it.” You smiled.

“Consider it a favor then, you’re taste testing for me.” Your name tag read ‘Jim’. “I’m apprenticing as a baker here, and I have permission to experiment with recipes. It would be great to know what customers think of my creations.” Your crooked grin and earnest eyes convinced me to take the croissant, and the myriad of treats you brought to me each week after that.

You would sit with me on your break, endlessly warm, with no expectations whatsoever. When you asked if I would consider going for dinner with you, I said yes without hesitation. When you asked if you could kiss me, I said yes without hesitation. When you were offered an apprenticeship with a patisserie in France, I told you to say yes without hesitation. I loved you, and wanted nothing more than for you to follow your dreams, and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I loved you enough to let you go. I drove you to the airport, and didn’t hide my tears when you made me promise not to wait for you. A part of my heart went with you to France, but I felt more whole than before I met you. You eventually moved home with a man you met abroad who looks like an honest to god pirate, and I’m still blessed to have you in my life, as a dear, dear friend. I don’t regret losing you Jem, because loving you was the first chance I had at a healthy romance. You convinced me that there was still goodness in the world, that love was more than pain and promises. You convinced me I was worth loving, and I’ll be forever grateful.

Love from your biggest fan, Faye

Lövi Lævateinn

Lovi, meeting you was like being swept up in a windstorm. Until I learned to move the way you move, smile the way you smile, I would just be swept off my feet and helpless. We clicked instantly. Something about 8:00AM classes will do that to people. It took me a while to figure out what you were doing in an 8:00AM biology class (fuck having to take a lab science in any degree, honestly), when as far as I could tell your degree was in philosophy. Then I realized any time not spent gossiping with me about what professors we thought were hot, was spent staring at the back of Laufi Illphelkiir’s head.

I helped you practice your ‘dramatic love confession’, holding a hairbrush like a microphone and a pile of laundry in your dorm room as a ‘token of your most sincere affections’. I hate that the background music you chose to set the scene to was Careless Whisper. I swore I was going to burst a lung, I laughed so hard that night. You have made me laugh more than anyone else in my life.

After Laufi told you about his condition, how his illness prevented him from feeling any affection towards you as he simply didn’t have the energy for a relationship, you came to me for comfort. I would have never turned you away. When that comfort turned physical, I was still happy to be there with you through it. After all, what are friends for? I hope you never worried it was transactional, like those men at the casino that I quietly told you about one night while stargazing. I don’t love you the way I’d loved Quinn or Jem. It wasn’t romantic. It isn't how I love Mal either. It’s the kind of love that is so pure and platonic and unconditional that I can’t possibly explain. I know I don’t have to though. You understand.

Love, your dumbass, Faye

Kumo Hipeitseilg

Kumo, you were a joy. I’d never dated someone younger than me, and to say that I was taken by surprise when a complete stranger asked me out to dinner would be an understatement. You approached me in the hall of the university math wing, and asked without shame, pressing a sketch into my hands. It was me, drawn with burning angel wings, powerful and beautiful. How could I have said no?

Dinner was a strange affair, and I could feel how out of practice I was at this. It had been years since my last real date, but it wasn’t awkward. We people watched, and tried to imagine what the people at other tables were doing. You do a shockingly good impression of someone with a lisp. It makes you sound so much younger and unassuming, it’s crazy.

Dating you was fun. Each time we met we did something interesting, and playful. Spending time with you made me feel young again, like I could play at being the child I never got to be. Falling in love with you was fun.

You always shied away from intimacy. I worried I might be being too pushy, but the longer time went on, the more strange it felt. I was content to wait, but then you started to feel different, like the energy you were pushing out into the universe had changed. When you finally sat me down and explained that you thought that maybe you weren’t attracted to women in a physical way at all, it made sense. Our relationship wasn’t a romantic one for you, it was a friendship. I thought I would be mad, but you looked so terrified in that moment that all I felt was affection and a desire to protect you.

So we ended our relationship, and began a friendship instead. It took some time for my feelings to change, but I wasn’t willing to lose you entirely. We make a pretty good duo either way, Kumo. I hope you find someone who is everything you’re looking for. As for me, the drawing you gave me the day we met is still displayed on my wall.

Love, your friend, Faye

Lewellyn V’lain

Lewellyn, I never told you how I felt. Even as I write this letter, I know you’ll never read it, and that's good. You lived in the apartment across from Mal and I. Honestly, we’d been living there for 6 months without running into you. You were quiet as a mouse, and kept odd work hours as an assistant in your mother’s lab. Honestly, it was surprising that we hadn’t met earlier, considering you were an old friend of Lovi’s. I had heard lots about you, but it was a coincidence that we met.

I had forgotten my key, and Mal had his phone turned off at work, and you happened to be coming home just then. You let me stay in your apartment until he got home. Somehow, your place felt stagnant. It was decorated nicely, and it was tidy, but something about it felt stuck. I couldn’t put my finger on it. What I could see however, was the bone deep exhaustion you carried with you, and the debilitating insecurity that I was so familiar with in myself. I’d had love and support around me for the better part of a decade before we met, and the way you rejected kindness made me sure that you’d never had any at all. You never talked about your family. Never talked about your attempts. You were all sharp edges and biting words, and yet, you had a way of getting under people’s skin. People liked you, even if they hated it. I fell for you hard, and I wanted so badly to help you, but I knew you would only bite the hand I offered you.

You might not have been willing to try for yourself, but damn if you don’t look after my brother. Somehow you saw right through his facade to the real him. I watched him fall in love with you, and I’m watching as you try to be worthy of him. It’s like looking in a mirror at myself 10 years ago.

I’m making a vow to let you love my brother instead, to never breathe a word of my own feelings, and to be your friend instead.

I’m getting tired of having friends instead. I so desperately want that intimacy that everyone else seems to have, but I want it to be real. To feel real.

With unrequited love, Faye

Faye Feratra

My wife, my love, my past, my future. I’ve never been very good with words, or the written word, but I found your collection of letters in a box under your side of the bed, and I wanted to answer you in kind somehow.

Watching you walk away that day was one of the worst of my life. I started gambling again. I was a mess by the time Varm stepped in and made me clean myself up. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. I had no idea what your circumstances were back then, and I’m still furious at myself that I didn’t ask. I could have found a way to make your life a little easier. But I just let you walk away, and I didn’t follow.

I dated a few people after you, but nothing stuck. When I ran into you six years after you walked out, you could have knocked me over with a feather. You looked so different. You walked with purpose, with your head held high. Your eyes had a lightness to them that they never had before, even when you were happy. You caught sight of me, and froze. I thought you would run again. But instead you steadied yourself and sat down at my table.

“I hope it isn’t too late to give you an explanation.” I remember numbly shaking my head, and listening to you tell the long obscured truth of back then. The prostitution, the rent payments of a shit apartment, the abusive family, and the crippling need for stability. You didn’t ask me to forgive you, but I did anyway.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” you said, “It hurt me too, but I wouldn’t change meeting you anyways. I hope things have been going well for you.” You got halfway down the street before I managed to catch up with you.

We dated for a year before I finally convinced you to move in with me. Two years after that I proposed, and you were furious that I had beat you to it. Our poor wedding planner nearly quit from the stress you put her through, but it turned out perfect. We saved enough to buy a house on the outskirts of the city, one with enough room to expand. Room we needed, as we began to adopt. Nine kids was enough to keep us busy. They’ve all grown up into their own people so quickly. I can see you in them, you know. In the way they talk, the way they smile, the way they love. 47 years of marriage is an accomplishment you know, even if I would have liked it to be longer. When you left us, it was surrounded by our family, and with my hand in yours.

All the people you loved before were all still in your life, they were all here today for your funeral. I had no idea how deeply you loved each of them. I’m so proud to know that the woman I love was capable of giving so much of her heart away again and again, and that somehow I was the one who got to keep you. I don’t know how I’m going to stand waking up tomorrow to find your side of the bed cold and empty, but I will. I’m going to stay until the end of my time, spoil our kids, love our family. I’m going to survive losing you, because I’m so absolutely certain I’m going to see you again on the other side. I love you so much Faye.

Your first and last love, Quinn Feratra

#It's bittersweet and I will not apologize

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nickyroethemarinebiologist · 2 years

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Aight here we are lets go

So this is just an idea that was partly inspired by someone else on tumblr a couple days ago, and basically it's an AU where, instead of just disappearing into the walls, Bruno somehow ends up dying and (✨tadaa✨) he becomes a ghost

Everything is more or less the same, but instead of Mirabel finding Bruno, she finds Bruno's ghost

Gonna have a bit of an info dump HERE WE GO

So everything is the same up until just after the vision. Bruno basically panics and packs up any stuff he can carry before running off into the walls before anyone even notices he's gone

As to how he actually dies, I was thinking it might've had something to do with that hole inside the walls. After his vision he leaves just like in the film, but in his haste doesn't notice the MASSIVE GAP until it's too late to stop- it's not a long drop, but through some horribly bad luck he ends up breaking something, obviously ending up with a fatal injury

Dolores would probably hear him scream or something before he hit the floor, and that would probably be very concerning for her, but with the whole worrying-about-the-failed-ceremony bit going on there isn't time to tell anyone, so she keeps it to herself. No one even realises he's missing until someone (probably Pepa or Julieta) sees that the light from his door has dimmed/gone out completely

This would obviously cause some panic and confusion and Dolores FINALLY pipes up about what she had heard, which leads to the family (correctly) assuming the worst

The immediate aftermath of this assumption would probably just be a blur of chaos, with Abuela probably trying to calm everything down

And as for Bruno, he would wake up shortly after the fall, a little dazed and confused. He doesn't realise that he had even died, and instead believes that the fall only knocked him out and he was otherwise fine.

This whole situation would have taken place right after Mirabel's gift ceremony so everyone was be in pretty low spirits already, so they probably took this a little worse than they would have

I think some of the family wouldn't fully believe he was even dead at first, and/or be in a state of denial for a while. Like Pepa, for example, she would probably try to convince herself that Bruno had just wandered off and was completely fine, but after a while even she would have to admit that wasn't possible

Mirabel (and Camilo) would have been pretty young when this happened, so neither really remembers anything about it or about Bruno himself, they only know what everyone else told them - that he had just wandered off somewhere and was fine (they would definitely end up finding out the truth eventually, it's hard to keep secrets from these kids)

Bruno, on the other hand, wouldn't even realise he was dead until a while later, through some unfortunate event. He is, understandably, very freaked out by this and eventually makes the connection between the fatal fall and some kind of bad luck

This leads to those little superstitious things he does in the film (knocking on things, throwing salt over his shoulder, etc etc), to protect both himself and his family from any future "bad luck" - only now he is reduced to miming everything since he can't actually touch anything

He no longer has his "gift", per say, but occasionally visions will come in small flashes, without any need for a ritual, and they are both disturbing and very inconvenient

Since Bruno died inside the walls, though some kind of "ghost law" I have in my head he is now physically incapable of leaving the walls - not that he would really want to. Sort of like the ghosts from that BBC show, if anyone's watched that. This would probably be because someones soul (ghost) is "tied to" the place they died

Bruno can be seen but only by his family (yet another ghost law of mine, ghosts can be seen by those closest to them at their time of death - family, friends, etc)

Maybe his rats are ghost-rats too. Idk, I just think that would be a fun idea lmao

And now for some plot changes:

Mirabel still does the whole finding Bruno's vision thing, and still follows the rats into the passageway, but instead of the normal Bruno she sees a weird ghostly-looking version of him which obviously freaks her out

She chases Bruno through the passageway, and falls just as she would in the film, but instead of Bruno catching her his hand just phases right through hers, which obviously shocks Mirabel and causes her to fall

Bruno panics for a moment, thinking he killed his niece because that is exactly how he died, but because Mirabel has ✨plot armour✨ she's completely fine

She climbs out of the hole herself, but before she can even begin to question Bruno as to what's going on he does the "bye" and walks right through her. Again, Mirabel gets very freaked out but it soon dawns on her that Bruno is a ghost

Since there is no longer a need for the whole ritual, when Mirabel asks Bruno to give her a vision he, albeit reluctantly, does so

When casita collapses, the "restraints" that kept Bruno's ghost in the walls are no longer there, since, well, there are no walls to be kept in. He can now roam freely around the town and possibly even further, but tends to stay in and around the casita even after it is rebuilt, probably because wandering too far away from his place of death causes discomfort and possibly even pain. And besides, it's not like he would want to leave his family again. If anything, he's grateful that he can now interact with everyone...even if the whole ghost thing is a little awkward at first

Thats all I have for now - if anyone has any questions or ideas lemme know! Might write/draw something for this if anyone likes the sound of that :D

~ Ket 🐁

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before. He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum.

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in.

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt.

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure.

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop.

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made.

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread.

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away.

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk.

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck.

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance.

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out.

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement.

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so.

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale.

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you.

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum.

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile.

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair.

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk.

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours.

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

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vampiregirl1797 · 3 years

Text

All Because of a Jacket

Stiles x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Summary: A collection of the times Stiles lends Y/N his lacrosse jacket.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,039

A/N: I have no idea where this came from guys. Actually, I do—I ordered myself a Stiles lacrosse jacket and I’ve been living in it since it came, so that’s most likely what inspired this little imagine. I hope you enjoy it! Leaving a link HERE to the jacket I got off Etsy if you’re interested—I cannot recommend it enough!

Click Here For my Masterlist.

It started off subtle, something I didn’t notice at first, and was merely grateful for. The pack had met in the middle of the lacrosse field on a Sunday evening, the location chosen as a way of avoiding any police cruisers who were out enforcing the town-wide 9pm curfew. Still, I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just have met at someone’s house, though I suppose that did run the risk of neighbours ratting us out.

I’d been trying to listen to what Scott was saying, and the whole reason we were gathered in the middle of the freezing cold lacrosse field in January, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus. It was my own fault, really. I’d assumed we’d go inside the school once we’d all gathered together, which was why I’d forgone grabbing a jacket as I left my house. Now, I was there, scrunching the sleeves of my jumper in a vain attempt to retain some heat and reverse the cold settling in on my bones. I had my arms crossed over my chest, and was seriously considering just wrapping my arms around Derek and burying my face into his back—he wouldn’t have minded and the man gave off more heat than a damn space heater, but I was startled out of my thoughts by a curtain of warmth being wrapped around me. I blinked, surprised and my eyes fluttered closed for a second in complete and utter relief, before my brain registered that the wonderfully warm jacket hadn’t just landed on my shoulders of its own accord. I looked to my left and straight into a particular pair of honey brown eyes that I was more than a little fond of. His eyes were soft at that moment, and when I murmured a quiet thank you, he responded with a bashful smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest.

As I slid my arms through the long sleeves of Stiles’ lacrosse jacket and buttoned up the front in an attempt to retain the warmth the sarcastic boy’s body had provided, I found myself grateful that Stiles, like me, was one of the only humans of the group. It meant that I’d been able to successfully keep my more than platonic feelings from him. Of course, he was the only one who didn’t know.

I narrowed my eyes at Derek’s teasing, barely there, smile and discretely flipped him off by scratching my nose with my middle finger. The action didn’t go unmissed by the blue-eyed wolf and he breathed a chuckle before returning his attention to the alpha in front of the group.

My cold state now taken care of, I was able to concentrate on Scott’s words, subconsciously stepping closer to Stiles as I listened, my body seeking out the comfort his presence always provided me with without my consent.

That was the first time Stiles gave me his jacket.

The second time had been during a “stake-out” with Liam and Stiles. The honey-eyed boy was adamant that there was something off with Theo, and honestly I hadn’t got the best feeling about him popping into our lives out of nowhere for one, adding in the fact he was also a werewolf… well it was just too much of a coincidence.

‘I’m telling you, there’s something not right about him, Y/N.’ Stiles said, for what must have been the hundredth time in the last four hours.

‘Stiles.’ My hand covered his on the steering wheel, and I felt us both immediately relax at the touch, ‘I believe you, okay? You don’t need to convince me of anything. If you say there’s something off with Theo, I’m not going to question it.’

His usually honey-brown eyes were dark with emotion as his hand squeezed mine, ‘why? Why do you believe me?’

‘Because you have great instincts and I trust you and your opinions more than anyone else’s.’ I told him honestly.

I felt my heart beat pick up the longer his eyes bore into mine, but I refused to look away, even knowing that Liam was probably smiling in the same smug way all the werewolves had mastered whenever my heart misbehaved around Stiles. What felt like hours later, Stiles blinked and bought my hands in-between both of his.

At my look of confusion, he elaborated, ‘you’re freezing.’

‘Huh, I didn’t even notice.’ I shrugged, trying to fight the blush forming on my cheeks at what felt like an intimate gesture.

He opened his hands a little so he could blow some hot air onto mine, and the warmth generated from the act seemed to travel through my whole body.

‘Better?’ he asked after a few minutes of repeating the gesture.

I cleared my throat and kept my answer short, not trusting my voice, ‘much. Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ He released my hands and I slid them underneath my thighs to retain the heat he’d created.

My eyes moved over to where we’d been watching for most of the night, to see Theo was still playing his video game, like he had been for most of the night. It made me frown; sure video games were what teenagers usually did, but it just seemed too convenient to me. I was about to voice my opinion to Stiles and Liam when familiar cotton was placed onto my shoulders. My arms moved through the sleeves almost reflexively as I offered my best friend a grateful smile, and tried to resist the urge to bury my face into the fabric to inhale his sweet and husky scent.

‘Thank you.’

‘Can’t have you freezing on me.’ He joked his hand squeezing my thigh briefly before returning it to the steering wheel.

I couldn’t have stopped the blush that formed on my cheeks if I tried, so I turned my gaze to stare out of the window, my hand resting where his had touched me, and I wondered— if I were to remove the denim barrier provided by my jeans, would my thigh display a brand of his hand print?

Because the heat left behind by his touch felt exactly like I had been branded as his.

The third time had been in the cafeteria.

We were all sitting together, minus Derek and Liam, and all having different conversations in our own little groups. Allison and Isaac were making weekend plans, provided she could sneak out without her father noticing, Lydia, Aiden, Ethan and Danny were talking about something they could all do together on a double date, and Stiles, Scott and I were all talking about collages we wanted to apply to. Well, they were. I was trying not to fall asleep using my sandwich as a pillow; I’d been up late the night before, helping Stiles put together his criminal bored. Nothing had been solved, but we both found it helpful to have everything, every clue, and every detail all in one place.

Of course, time had gotten away from us, and our party had been broken up by the Sherriff returning from his shift and gently informing us it was past three am. I’d been too tired to drive home and had slept on the couch, but two hours sleep wasn’t enough time for me, unlike Stiles; he was as hyperactive as ever.

I pushed my tray away from me with a sigh, too tired to eat anyway, and laid my head down on top of my arms. I’d heard a few chuckles from the pack, but I ignored it; they knew how I could be when I was tired so they just left me to it. I was on the brink of passing out, knowing someone would wake me for our next class, when I found myself surrounded by what was becoming my favourite jacket emitting warmth and a scent I couldn’t get enough of. I slid my arms into the sleeves and nuzzled my face into the fabric once I’d returned them to my original position. Had I been fully conscious of my actions, I’d have been embarrassed at my audience, but the chuckles simply faded into nothing as I finally found sleep.

What I hadn’t noticed was Stiles’ fond smile, or the knowing and frustrated expressions the rest of the pack wore.

The fourth time had been during a lacrosse game.

I’d been standing in the bleachers, wearing a jacket that was not keeping me warm in the slightest and discretely trying to huddle closer to Malia—she gave off as much heat as her uncle did—when I’d heard Stiles shouting my name.

I’d frowned, but manoeuvred my way out of the row I’d been sat in and made my way down to the benches, where he was waiting. He was holding his helmet under his arm and when I reached him, he held out his jacket and I took it, but didn’t put it on in case I’d misunderstood his meaning. Did he want me to give it to Malia? I’d noticed they’d been particularly close since she had joined the pack, and as much as it made my heart ache, I was glad the female wolf had someone to offer her comfort when she’d been without it for so long.

‘I noticed it’s pretty cold and figured you could use a jacket.’ He said, seeming nervous.

I felt a genuine smile form on my lips as I slid the cotton on and buttoned up the front, ‘thank you. I feel like I should rent this from you with how often I wear it.’ I chuckled, pulling my hair out from underneath the fabric.

He joined me in my laughter, ‘nah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you in my jacket.’ He looked nervous again and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.

Did he mean…? ‘You do?’ I asked, my voice quiet to my own ears.

‘I do,’ he stepped closer and I felt wonderfully dizzy as a stronger wave of his heat and scent washed over me, ‘Y/N…I’ve liked you for a while. As more than a friend, and I’ve been too scared to say anything, but Scott practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t admit it to you.’

‘You like me?’ I repeated, dumbfounded. How had I missed it? Had I been so preoccupied in hiding my own feelings that I’d been blind to his?

‘Yes.’ He looked more nervous now and I found myself reaching out, my hands falling on top of his in an attempt to comfort him.

‘Stiles…’ I took a breath, finding the courage to say the words I’d been holding in for so long, ‘I like you too.’

His honey-coloured eyes bore into mine for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds, before his lips formed a face splitting grin that made my heart warm in my chest.

‘So, will you go on a date with me?’ he asked, seeming more confident but not much.

‘Absolutely.’ I grinned, my face leaning into his hand as it came up to caress the side of my face.

‘Awesome.’ He grinned again, and I was sure that we would both be wearing these giddy expressions for the foreseeable future, ‘pizza after?’

‘Perfect.’ I laced my fingers through his and almost jumped a mile when coach blew his whistle. I’d been so lost in him, his touch, his warmth, and his smell that I’d completely forgotten where we were.

‘I should get out there before Coach kills me.’ He chuckled.

‘Okay.’ I replied, reluctantly releasing his hands.

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead that I made my heart melt. Before he could leave me completely, I grabbed his jersey and with a teasing grin told him, ‘by the way, this jacket is mine now.’

He blinked, and when he’d processed my words a bright, fond grin broke out across his face. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered against my skin, ‘you won’t find me objecting to that, sweetheart.’ He winked, waved, and left to join the huddle in the centre of the field.

My cheek didn’t stop burning for the rest of the game.

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stillinski imagine #teen wolf

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

The Good Doctor

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: You're the doctor in Alexandria and Negan comes on a supply trip, taking something that doesn't belong to him

Warnings: depression, death, mentions of off self, gets a little triggering, I know I'm missing some, Negan is off character, nothing is exactly right in this, it's writing for writings sake

A/N: This is my first fic in years please forgive me for mistakes, it's just me in this operation, probably gonna be a whole series, here is part two!

May 20th

Negan's trucks roll into Alexandria again, loudly pushing past the gate and up to the medical center. Your insides start to rumble at the nervousness you have to see the ruthless man who knows no bounds. You reluctantly step outside and wait for him at your door, not doing well at hiding your displeasure of the loss of supplies.

When Negan and his men get out of their loading trucks, Negan shoots you his oh so dangerous smile before directing his men to their collections, keeping two of his men with him, he finally approaches you. "Well good fuckin' morning Dr. Y/L/N," he holds the door open for you, "after you, doll."

You moved past him, smiling at him, and walked to the stockpile of medication you had collected yourself helping Daryl on runs. "Please, only take what you are owed." Negan's men glared at you viciously, "We will take whatever we damn well please." Negan turned to face his men, "Now, we have a peaceful agreement here with the nice fuckin' doctor, get the supplies n lets go." You smiled at him, "Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain." Negan nodded, "I may be a fuckin' prick, but I am a man of my fuckin' word, ain't that all that fuckin' matters nowadays?" You nodded, waiting in silence for the men to complete their tasks.

After the men went through the supplies that laid before them, they pulled Negan to the side, obviously keeping their conversation private, one of them turning to you and flashing you a gut wrenching smile, you leaned on the gurney, waiting for the problem. Negan turned to you, scratching his chin, laughing lightly, "See doc, my men seem to really think that you've tried to short us this week," your eyes went wide, remembering what happened to the last person that tried to short Negan and his group, "I know you wouldn't fuckin' do that so can you just clear this shit up for us."

Scanning over the pages in front of you, "No," you cleared your throat, "I'm not short, its all documented here," you handed Negan the clipboard. As he scans over it, looking at your logs for every pill that comes in and out of this faux medical center, every date and name, the two men he placed with him rips your bag from your shoulders, dumping it out on the table, displaying the contents. Negan glances up, taking in the items on the table; a knife, a ripped up pack of spearmint bubble gum, a few pens, a small first aid kit, a few hair ties, stray items and a small leather bound notebook.

Negan slams the clipboard down, smiling at you, "I'll be damned she's fuckin' right boys, pack it up, it's all in the goddamned charts." You let out a breath of relief, a little worried to be Negan's next lesson. One of the men came close to you, pushing you backwards toward the gurney, "Don't test me bitch," backing away while still staring at you, he picked up your knife and waved it at you, "mine now, doll." The nickname reverberated evil inside you, at least when Negan did it, it felt at least flattering, but this man dripped poison from his words. At that though, Negan perked up, "Come on, shithead we've got things to do." You panicked, "No!" They all turned to you, "You cannot have my fucking knife," you backed up a little when the man stared you down, "please, it means a lot to me." The man started to say something, obviously furious you would even try ordering him, but Negan stopped him, taking the knife and handing it to you. The man he took the knife from grumbled and picked up your pack of gum, "Fuck you, keep your knife bitch, I'll take something sweet." Flashing you his smile, Negan was gone.

As you watched his trucks leave Alexandria, you finally returned to your work, cleaning up the mess his hooligans had made. Straightening the bottles, subtracting inventory, picking up your bag and sighing at the small amount of happiness you had as you realized that was the last pack of gum that you could find in a 50 mile radius. As you were putting away everything on the table, you started to move frantically looking for your notebook, under the table, around the table, even been looking all over the room. You couldn't find it. Your coping mechanism for the world moving at a pace that you just couldn't handle. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized, Negan.

He just couldn't help himself, just has to know what makes the good doctor fuckin' tick. Now, he just happens to have an all access pass to your thoughts in the zombie apocalypse. Humming to himself and relaxing into his seat, he peeled the book back at the marker for your most recent entry, picked a random nearby page and began reading.

April 23rd

celebrating yet another round of people. at some point I hit my limit, just can't keep meeting and greeting. feels pointless, I never see half of them, and when I do they normally die in my clinic. is this what it's become? death after death? mercy after mercy?

April 30th

every time someone dies in my clinic and I slide a knife through their skull it just reminds me this is how it will end for us all. we'll all just be the walking dead in the end. when's my turn? when do I get to finally stop running this rat race and throw in my damn towel? everyone else gets to say goodbye seems fair

Goddamn, Negan thought to himself, there's an entry here for every fuckin' day. He readjusted, taking in where they were at and how long he had to read for now, planning to figure out how you worked. No shame in wanting the pretty doctor.

May 4th

so fucking stupid, absolutely incompetent, couldn't even find antibiotics. couldn't find any gauze or even disinfectant. what a waste of gas, we're beginning to pick clean every building, car and trash can in a 50 mile radius. how long do we have left with the saviors breathing down our neck

May 12th

found some supplies, couldn't find enough, not enough, people treat the medicine like it's never ending but I just can't keep up there's nothing left, there has to be something that I can do, has to be something out there for me to find, it can't just be all gone, I'm not thinking of something, there is something out there I just have to be fucking smart enough to find it

May 15th

risk is worth the reward, I finally found some more antibiotics, and hit the fucking jackpot, found some chewing gum, melted Twix for Judith, and a knife for henry after I lost his in that horde, indescribable emotion when I had that first piece of gum that reminded me of how it used to be, when I was surrounded by support and family, gotta make it last

May 16th

henry was carried in by rick and daryl. henry was conscious, talking, don't let me turn, he begged. rick said he fell from a third story window. daryl grabbed alcohol and gauze, rick grabbed the stitch kit while I cut open henrys shirt, glass, at least two dozen pieces, please be manageable. I grabbed the tweezers and pour alcohol on henry's chest, his screams. half an hour in, he's seizing, rick grab buccal midazolam, place it in his mouth, hold him still until it stops, wait for a beat, no beat, cpr, one hundred twenty seconds in, can't let him turn, wait for beat, no beat, knife.

had to be something more.

Negan shifted uncomfortably, this went on for at least ten pages, questioning every move you made, reliving putting down a good friend of yours, is this how you mourn?

May 17th

This is it. surrounded by death, my turn.

Fuckin' christ, Negan thought, now realizing that the good doctor is too fuckin' hard on herself. Realizing that you had your own horrible demons, and that this world is starting to get to you.

May 19th

Guess not.

Negan felt horrible for taking this, he felt like he had taken a piece of you, just trying to figure out which buttons to press to make you want him like everyone else, he definitely didn't expect this. He had to give it back, had to find a way to make it better, and he just might have a plan.

May 21st

You woke up feeling empty, just going through the motions, getting dressed, brushing out your hair, brush your teeth, quarter of a piece of gum- no. Walk to the clinic, not hungry today. You sat in your chair, clipboard on lap, staring at the door, waiting for your next victim to come through. After about two hours, you hear a few bikes pull into the gate and getting closer. Taking a peak out the window, you see Negan at your clinic doors with a relatively large backpack on, and the same two men he had with him yesterday, and an extra woman who you had never seen before.

Negan walked into your clinic, the woman standing at the door but not stepping in, and you couldn't do anything but get your knife out. "What the fuck are you doing back here?" You pointed the knife at him, not going to let him take anymore of your hard earned supplies. "You raided yesterday and stole from me! The kind of nerve a selfish prick like you-" Negan pulled out your book and an unopened pack of spearmint gum. You lowered your knife, looking at him like a confused puppy, and then jerked the book out of his hand, leaving the gum. "It's a fuckin' peace offering, doll," Negan held out the gum, but you didn't take it, just stared at him. "I don't want it, you don't get to take all of our lessening supplies and steal from me after I've been nothing but honest trying to keep our deal for no violence and then just come offering a pack of gum your henchmen stole from me! I worked for that! I worked for all of this! I was good to your men! I was good to you, Negan!" You started tearing up and turned away from him, mindlessly putting your journal back in your bag, sighing in great relief that it was returned to you.

"Doll, I didn't fuckin' mean to upset you, I didn't fuckin' know what it was-" Negan stepped closer, setting the bag he carried on your table, "it's not the only peace offering, I've got two more." He sat the gum next to the pack and took your place in the chair, spinning around. You emptied the pack, meds, gauze, a Twix bar, and a few cases of extra supplies. You immediately turned to him, eyebrows raised, "What's the fucking catch? Nobody gets anything from you without a catch." Negan smiled, scratching through his beard, that trouble causing smile, "You gotta come back with me." You scoffed, gawked at that. "Are you serious? You want me to come back with you, with the saviors? Why? That's not even possible, I-I'm needed here, I'm the only one whose been studying the medical books, only one that can tell their ass from their end, that's just stupid-" Negan stands and points to the woman at your door. "Cue the next fuckin' offering, Amelia. She knows what she's fuckin' doing, she's a good one and fuckin' despises my fine ass, so I know that your fuckin' people are in good hands. You only gotta come for a week, just a fuckin' week."

You sighed, not sure what to do, but only had seconds to figure it out, "Okay," you moved closer to him, "on two conditions." Negan smiled, turned on by your big balls of courage to demand something from the man who mercilessly beat the shit out of people with a barbed wire bat. "I have today to train her on how to keep things in order while I'm gone, and next week, you leave Alexandria alone, and no taking extra in two weeks, we get to keep our extra supplies for next week." Negan scoffed, unbelievable that you'd demand that, he's gotta run his own group, "Are you fuckin' joking sweetheart?" You laughed, packing up the supplies and giving the bag of supplies back to him, "No, I am not," you pulled back and crossed your arms, "so how bad do you want me, Negan?"

#the walking dead fanfiction #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #negan x reader #negan x you #rick x you #rick x reader #twd negan #negan fic #negan x y/n #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #negan fluff #negan angst #tw fanfic #tw fanfiction

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antiherocorner · 3 years

Text

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons:

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #niki lauda #niki lauda x reader #werewolf au #car mechanic au #werewolf!au

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

Boys on the Radio.

Harringrove April, Day Seven : Daisy Chain.

Steve has very high standards when it comes to men. Unbelievably rigid, according to Nancy; hilariously unattainable, according to Robin, and understandable, according to the one man that actually matters.

Billy tells him that the privilege of not simply “taking what you can get,” comes from equal opportunity.

The fact that Steve can sign up for Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and HER without having to set his dating pool to only men, only brown eyes, 5′11″ or taller, himbo, must like dogs, must want nachos when drunk--means he shouldn’t have such a hard time finding someone to get coffee with, and yet.

Steve finds himself on the couch with Robin on Wednesday night, anyway. Swiping through a caste of 25+ gym rats and an inbox full of u spit or swalll-o, baby girl.

Wishing and praying for a sign, like. Something to prove he’s not deflective.

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Swipes left on four guys with fifteen pack abs, Jesus Christ, searching for someone he knows will never materialize.

Steve hates his life.

He throws his phone down on the couch before picking it back up again, and. Opening Tinder once more.

“Billy gets so much dick on these stupid apps, it’s not even real.” Steve complains, after swiping through, like. Ten guys within walking distance alone. “How does he do that?”

“Easy. Billy knows his type.”

Steve considers Marcus. His chorded arms and tattooed thighs. His Incan Temple chest piece, before.

Swiping left.

“How the hell does he actually get what he’s looking for? I see these guys and, like. They seem perfect. Funny, smart, successful. Completely my type on paper, and then--”

“Just say you’re holding out for Billy and move on, Stever.” Robin’s phone dings. She dives for it, grinning and typing out a response, and like.

Steve hates her.

He scowls. “I’m not holding out for Billy.”

It doesn’t sound right, even to his own ears. Robin peeks at him over the top of her messaging app, smile going lopsided in the middle. “’S fine. He’s holding out for you, anyway.”

Steve really, really hates her.

He opens Facebook and scrolls through his feed, stopping to comment a series of heart emojis on a picture of Billy and Max hiking somewhere in White Water State Park.

Billy looks.

Like Billy.

Golden curls cropped close to his head, eyes squinting as the photographer catches him mid laugh, nose bunching up so.

Adorably.

That Steve’s heart skips a beat. That the heavens fuckin’, like. Open, and shit, to shine on a delicate daisy chain around his forehead.

Steve can’t believe he almost missed it. He spends five minutes picking the right color of heart emoji. Yellow and orange, with a sprinkle of stardust, and then. Another three deciding how many to include before closing out of Facebook entirely.

Reluctant to prove Robin right.

Steve opens Tinder and promises that when the next face pops up on his screen, he’ll lower his standards. Be more chill about the whole thing.

Actually read the bio twice and message back before deciding that no one could ever compare to--

Steve swipes left on Tyler.

Almost immediately, because. Look.

This guy is cute. Curly blonde hair and green eyes, but. Unfortunately for dude, his name is Tyler, for fucks sake.

And unfortunately for Steve he looks too much like.

Yeah.

Robin makes a noise, all, “What’s wrong with that one?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously and Steve wishes she were off getting laid or something. “Besides the fact that he’s not Billy.”

“His name’s Tyler,” Steve says. Like it should be obvious. He scrambles for something else, something tangible, before landing on; “And his teeth are too square.”

Robin stares at him. Sets her phone aside before pinching the bridge of her nose, like, “His teeth are too square.”

“Yep.”

“You’re impossible.”

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Running into the same problem again.

Too pretty guys with too straight teeth and too many abs, just.

Terrible.

“Maybe I should lower my standards.” Steve says, after another you got real pretty DSLs bby, from some fuckface claiming that Sundays are for Jesus and tan lines.

Men are hopeless.

Men are terrible, Steve wishes Billy was here and not on vacation.

“Maybe.” Robin smiles down at her phone, again, cheeks going bright pink when Barb says something so fucking witty, Steve, I’m in love.

Steve frowns. “You can talk about her, dude.”

“Talk about who?” Robin sits on her hands. Swallows a smile. “Barb and I only just met. I’ve been stuck with you for years.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Robins phone dings again. She ignores it. “I don’t think your standards are the problem.”

“If you fucking--”

“Just admit that it’s only been ten years and you’re finally spreading your legs for the guy who includes a description of you in his dating profile.”

He really wishes she were out getting laid.

“Allegedly,” Steve says. Because; “I’ve never actually seen any of his dating profiles.”

Robin opens the message from Barb, grinning to herself, or. To the gods of chaos she seems to be in council with fucking always. “That’s because if you ran across one you’d swipe right.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.” Robin counters, not even bothering to look up from her phone. “Billy is exactly your type. Funny, smart, adventurous. Daddy issues. Has a thing for leather.”

“Dude--”

“Wearing leather, putting his partners in leather. Kinky but knows how to cook and clean, and how to take care of a bratty sub.” Robin puts her phone away, shrugging when Steve tosses a pillow at her. “Face it, man, he’s exactly your type. On and off paper.”

Steve wants to crawl under the couch and bury himself under the floor boards.

“I thought the whole point of online dating was to get out of your head about types and shit.”

Robin snorts, like, “No one actually believes that. We’re all just dating the same person over and over again. Making the same mistakes so we have something to complain about when our friends invite us over for wine.”

And.

She’s not wrong. She’s never wrong. Steve, just. Knows what he wants. Who he wants. Steve aches and pines and yearns for Billy Hargrove. To cuddle up next to the fifteen-pack of abs he’s been obsessing over for years, and.

Swear of this God awful dating sites for good.

But. “Barbara isn’t your type.” Steve says, like. AHA! Pointing an accusatory finger that Robin nods away.

“She’s exactly the type of girl I should be with, and exactly what I’ve wanted all along.” Robin says politely, but her eyes say fuck you I’m right.

Just like now. Like always.

Steve takes a deep, steadying breath. “Okay.”

Robin blinks at him. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Steve mutters, because he’s a team player. He can admit defeat, especially for a battle that was lost to blue eyes long, long ago.

But. He opens Bumble, shrugging sheepishly.

“One more swipe for old times sake?”

“Steve--”

“One more swipe to prove that I should be focusing my dick elsewhere.” Steve says. He feels tears burning, sharp and mean, behind the lining of his throat. “I just need a sign, like. Something to give me the courage.”

Robin watches him for a minute, and.

Must see the way he’s barely holding it together, finger tapping incessantly at the loading screen. Her phone goes off once again, breaking the tension.

Steve takes that as a yes.

He closes the app and opens it again. Bumble plays through an ad for Candy Crush and Steve finds it hilarious that happy endings come with a price tag. A thirty second video telling him what he needs, and then.

The guy on screen is perfect.

Golden skin, bright blue eyes. His bio describes a perfect boy, a perfect date, profile stocked full of personality.

Skateboarding and surfing on the coast. Tattoos and leather jackets. Metallica concerts and.

A boy in a flower crown.

Billy describes his perfect boy as brown eyed beauty, 5′11″ or taller, preschool teacher. Must like dogs. Must want nachos when drunk--

And when Steve finally, finally swipes right: It’s a match.

#harringrove #harringrove april #day seven #daisy chain #this is a conversation inspired by the evening I had hanging with my roommate #we both have incredibly high standards #anyway #hope you enjoy!

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solara-bean · 4 years

Text

Grimmjow Headcanons Plus a Few x S/O ones

( pretty sure I read some of these somewhere but I forgot so here's a self indulgent list :)

He died in his early twenties so he's still pretty young mentally but physically as a hollow he's old as hell

He's European

He takes a lot of naps in random places such as the roof of Las Noches

In fact he does a lot of cat like stuff and doesn’t realize it

He can purr but rarely and it’s mostly in his sleep

When he became an arrancar he had long hair similar to his release form. It kept getting in the way so he cut it

he doesn’t like wearing clothes

Him and his fraccion use to sleep close together in case they were ambushed by other adjuchas and still did even after they became arrancars

They didn’t think much of it. Except Di Roy. He’d say it was weird and ‘un-masculine’ to which Grim would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after laying an arm or a leg over his face.

Di Roy would also occasionally guilt trip him

Grimmjow: You’re too weak to fight with us.

Di Roy: I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t bite my face off.

Grimm:..........fine! do whatever you want. See if I care.

He was actually much closer to them than he let on

Most of the epsada knew it. Especially after Syazel threatened to experiment on them since they were ‘expendable.’ He did his best to avoid Grimmjow after that.

He only really got to grieve of their deaths when the war against Aizen ended

As much as he genuinely enjoyed fighting Ichigo it was also a distraction from all the pain he tried to burry

Harribel and Nelliel helped him with his grief

They became sort of friends afterwards tho he still tries to fight them both on a weekly basis

Refers to Pantera with female pronouns

One perk of most of Los Noches’ inhabitants being defeated is the nearly infant amount of space. So he was able to choose his own room

He keeps it surprisingly tidy aside from the nicknacks he’s hoarded from wandering around Hueco Mundo

His bed is full of pillows as a substitute of having a pack to sleep with

When asked he’ll say its for comfort

Nelliel: Have you seen my pillow?

Grimmjow: * sitting on it in his pillow pile* No.

He steals everyone’s stuff now and then but mostly Nel’s cuz he likes to mess with her ( insert low key sibling energy )

He talks to animals like people

Grimmjow: I told you to stop crossing the street at the red light idiot!

Cat: Meow

Grimm: Don’t talk back to me you little shit!!

Hangs out at Urahara’s place when he’s in the living world and not trying to fight Ichigo

Likes human food. Especially meat.

Grimmjow: *eating bacon for the first time* hmm tastes like hollows but better

Ichigo:.....I’m sorry what??!!

Was dared that he couldn’t beat Yoruichi at twister. He won five crates of snacks to bring back to Hueco Mundo ( may or may not have shared them cuz “ they gave me too much so take it or I’ll throw it out” )

Says things around the characters in the living world about his terrible experience under Aizen’s rule like it’s normal

Grimmjow: *having another rematch with Ichigo* Damn that almost hurt as much as Tousen slicing my arm off

Ichigo: *pauses the fight* Tousen did WHAT?!!

Becomes friends with Ichigo but won’t admit it.

Somewhat apologizes to Orihime and Rukia for what he did. But not Ichigo cuz he’ll do it all again but with less deadly intent.

Learns how to cook

Likes just about any kind of movie/show. He isn’t picky

Would get his 6 tattoo edited to something else if it bothered him

Would freakin die for Kazui!!!

Here are the S/O ones:

Is pansexual so gender isn’t an issue

Prefers someone who can beat him up but is ok with a human if he feels a very strong connection to them

Doesn’t really have a physical type honestly

Will admire things about their appearance cuz he likes it on them and not in general

Will be in complete denial about his feelings at first

Like “hollows aren’t meant to love” and all that ish

Makes up excuses to hangout with them but it’s mostly for his own benefit

“ I don’t like them. They just have a nice movie collection.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to spar with.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to talk to.” “I don’t like them. They just make me feel safe when I sleep next to them.”

Gives them random things he’s found when wondering around Hueco Undo’s desserts like gems and cool sharp bones

Let's them hold and even use Pantera

Starts to unconsciously turn off his hierro when he’s with them. It causes a lot of fliching and embarrassing gasps when they touch him since he’s not use to feeling so much

Did I mention he’s touch starved?

Like a lot.

Holding his hand for too long would literally kill him

Once he’s gotten use to feeling something other than pain from another person he starts to let them touch him more. Like hugs. Lots of hugs.

He even lets them rub his release form’s cat ears

Then here come the purrs. Louder than they’ve ever been before! It startles them both. He denied it but the blush gave him away.

He’ll do his best to purr more often since his s/o likes it so much. Such as when they’re cuddled up for a nap. Though he doesn’t really have to try.

Is confused as to why they like to squish his toe beans but lets them do it anyway

Wraps his tail around them in his release form

Will let them braid his long hair

Will also let them paint his claws as well as put makeup on him

He’s a total pushover ( insert the ‘please for me’ meme )

Is very protective of them

“ Why are you sad? Do I need to kill someone?”

If asked will follow his s/o when they’re out at night so they feel safe. Potential muggers? Thrown by an unknown force. Stalker? Punched by an unknown force. Cat callers in a car? Car gets flipped over by an unknown force.

Eventually no one bothers them at all cuz word goes around that they’re protected by a ghost or something else supernatural.

They’re of the few that can call him by a nickname and survive. Grimm, Grimmy, Grimmykins, Grimmy-kun, Kitty, Kitten, Catboy, Stinky cat, Baby boy, Baby boi, Big guy, Tough guy, My Arancar, My love, My one and only, Handsome, Blueberry. Literally anything is fine with him.

But call him My King and he’s done for. Dead. A second time. Deceased all over again. His heart will reform just to burst out of existence.

Takes them to Hueco Mundo a few times

Makes a pillow fort with them with his hoard of pillows

Will be skeptical as to why they like him and won’t be surprised if they get tired of him and break up

But oh no! They’re in it for the long run! You’re stuck with them Grimmykins:)

Would most likely say I love you without even realizing it till later

Grimm: *blushes* F*CK!!

Harribel: *pauses the meeting* Is there something wrong?

Grimm: I told Y/n that I love them before I left without realizing it! *puts his face in his hands and groans* I’m so screwed.

Nel: Well it’s about damn time!

Harribel: Congrats Grimmjow

Grimm: *groans and blushes some more*

If he really loves them he’ll find a way to weaken his immortality so they can grow old together ( yes it’ sappy but he figures he’ll get bored after they long gone )

Might go to Mayuri for help and becomes his lab rat in return. Won’t tell his s/o till it’s done so they won’t try to stop him.

It’s not fun. Like at all ( insert angsty fit energy here ). But it works and as an added bonus him and his s/o can have kids if they’d like

A great dad. Incredibly supportive and loving. Mess with them and you’re dead. Or at least scarred for life. No one messes with his cubs.

Grimm: Isn’t it weird that our kids are best friends?

Ichigo: No. We’re friends.

Grimm: I tried to kill you.

Ichigo: Who hasn’t?

Grimm: I’ll drink to that.

Ichigo: That’s a juice box.

Grimm: Have you seen my kids? The last time I wasn’t sober they ceroed the roof off and beat up a hollow. There’s no way I’m missing that again.

#bleach #grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow jaggerjack #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow headcanons

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ramblesofajester · 3 years

Text

whispers of a witch (chap1/?

this is just a self indulgent fic for me to write when I feel like shit and yes it will have nsfw

info: they/them, curvy body, glasses, anxiety.

The cool wind sweep past your cheek as you squat down, fingers numbing and turning blue from the constant foraging across the forest floor to fine the herbs you require, its late winter and you have just run out of several herbs you use quite frequently for personal use and when healing the villagers. of course as always there is a catch when you need to get something done. one, you where delivering a baby a good portion of the day, then doing your normal round with the villagers, so soon night is to fall, two the Lycians have been testing there luck with the village borders as of resent, three the only place those herbs are left growing are near Heisenberg's land due to you harvesting all the more accessible ones previously. and just to top it all of duke wouldn't be able to gather a shipment until the next new moon, that being two weeks away so here you are right before dusk cut plants with frozen fingers outside of a missive chain-link fence in the middle of the woods. Gazing around, you are in a small clearing, the village is about a mile, mile and a half to the south west of here. the factory's smoke stacks just visible over the tree line. Sighing you focus on the task at hand, slowly griping the base of the plant you say thanks to the earth and pull it up root and all, listening to the birds as there song slowly drifted thru the trees. standing up you, make your way over to the next bushel of plants emerging from the thin coat of snow. suddenly all the brides stop singing setting off of several alarms in your brain knowing its wasn't you who disturbed them wiping around, franticly looking you hear and see movement all around you just out of sight in the brush you cant tell what it is. assuming it to be Lycians or and angry bear or even a stray ghoul from the castle grounds. garbing the dagger from your boot you crouch down to an defensive position slowly making your way toward the path you came from. as you take a step back slowly a few Lycian emerge from the tree line teeth bared eyes holding a burning hunger. a soft gasp leaves your lips if there are this many you know more are soon to follow

"well shit, I couldn't just go and have an easy day now could I?" you ask the Lycians sarcastically not really expecting a reply. a deep chuckle caught you off guard and in your shock you hear the swift shifting of metal. the feeling of cold steel on your ankle stealing your attention from the fast change of gravity as you are hoisted into the air, dangling like a prized fish. attempting to regain your bearings. you look around seeing the Lycian pack now completely surrounding you.

"well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," standing clear in the path arm outstretched to hold the chain around you feet taking a step further with every word.

"a lost little bunny, who is hoping around where they should not be..." he says in a little tune with mirth in his step. finally stopping right in front of you raising you so your face is level with his shoulders you reach out attempting to swipe at him with you dagger, as soon as you weapon is revealed is ripped from your grasp and now spinning around you and the lord. a large gloved hand grips your face forcing you to look at lord Heisenberg.

"now I cant tell if that was stupidity, or bravery little bunny but I'm guessing you dont know who I am." he speaks with amusement as he examines your face and, forces you to look at him. you stop squirming long enough to stare at the round shades perched on his nose. this being the first time you have seen the lord this close ,its usually only in passing or from the shadows as to not be noticed, but now you have to admit the stubble and scars, the cocky smile, the smell of oil, pine, smoke, and Tabaco is actually not that bad.

"No I know who you are, just really dont care cause I'm a little busy" you immediately wiggle from his grasp and start reaching for the chain around your ankles. a boisterous laughter is released from behind you and suddenly your falling about a meter, back connecting with the ground a large "oof" emanating from you. Rushing to get the chain from around you ankles it fly from your hands. jumping to your feet you face Heisenberg head held high

"oh... you do know me, so it must be stupidity, that must explain why your on my land as well" Heisenberg ponders aloud." so you must either be lost or have a death wish" he says with a chuckle

"nope not lost, just need some of the herbs here and if you live in this village and haven't runaway or offed yourself you have a death wish" you reply flatly brushing the dirt of of yourself as you stand to gather your things. "now" you say turning back to him "my dragger if you'd please" extending you hand cautiously with and expectants look.

"wow, you've got some balls on you" puffing on his cigar "you better watch that attituded bunny" you are suddenly painfully aware of the small pack of hunger Lycian circling you both "and remember who the man in control is" hand still outstretched you snap back with

"listen hear 'lord Heisenbitch' I am sorry for trespassing on you land but I need 7 different herbs and at least 5oz of each, I need them before tomorrow evening, some of them for mother Miranda, as well as a women who just gave birth in the village. Now unless you wish to explain to Miranda why her healer is missing, and her people dead due to illnesses I would like my dagger back and you and your fine fuzzy companions to kindly fuck of." you knew your words where dangerous but at this point in the evening you really didn't give a fling fuck and the shock on Heisenberg's face when he recognizes you almost made it worth it.

"Wait your Miranda's prized witch, oh man this is great, how have you lasted so long, your so small bunny" this just pissed you off more you want your dagger back but he's just so infuriating. your dont have time for this

"Fine, just keep the dagger" you say shoving past him. Growling at the Lycians blocking the path they stay there ground and growl back, only to glance behind you whimper, and slowly back away clearing the path. A chain roughly wraps around you waist spinning you around and pulling you flush against Heisenberg before returning to his trench coat pocket. blowing his smoke in your face he drawls

"wow wow wow, slow you roll peter cotton tail I ain't being stingy, I just wanna talk a little" as he says this he wraps his arm around you waist slipping your dagger back into its sheath leaving his hand to rest on the dip of your hip, the other griping your chin forcing you to look up at him

"Let. Me. Go!" you hiss out never braking your gaze of his glasses

"now what would Miranda think of this, her pet of the leash, not respecting or listening to your lord" he teases not lessening his grip at all

"I dont give a scraggly rats ass, just let me go you bastard!" you spit at him, resaving a chuckle as a reply .

"ohhh I like you bunny, you've got fight not a lot of that left hear any more. but I need something from you darling, so we are gonna take a little walk back to your place, your gonna help me, then ill help you with your little situation how does that sound there bunny?" spinning you around arm still securely on your waist, he starts to walk still puffing on his cigar, quickly you realize you have no choice in the matter. the Lycians slow start to follow you keeping there distance at about 3 meters back this continues for a wile and it might have even been pleasant having company for once on the walk, you if you ignore the hungry Lycians and the fear Heisenberg will get angry or be done with his little game. slowly the forest edge and the village come in to the distances well as a small well worn foot path leading into a thick pine forest near the base of the Benevento valley

"so bunny, which way is it" Heisenberg ask moving his arm up to rest on your shoulders using the other to jester at the path ways.

"This way" you mumble out, gesturing to the pine foot path. now moving forward on you own accord tiered of being user around like a lost child. you dont make it very far seeing as soon as you start to move away he tightens his grip

"ohh come on bunny, no need to get cold feet. your getting something good out of this too, you just chill a little there thumper" he says smirk never leaving his face.

"well it sure as hell dont feel like it, this feels more like a kidnaping only we are headed to my own dwelling" you watch as the pine trees grow thicker with every passing second drawing closer to your burrow. soon a large moon gate covered in rosemary and lavender comes into a view just beyond it several greenhouses small and large soft light emanating from a few

"Now hold up thumper if you have all of these, what were you doing traipsing around by my factory? you weren't trying to get my attention were you?" he jabs at you obviously trying to get a rise out of you.

"What I was looking for I do not grow because it is local and I had a store of some, but it a since been exhausted, lots of sick ones this season." you replied tiredly seeing as dusk has passed a wile ago and you had been called out well before day brake. now you where just too tired to deal with his shenanigans. continuing forward you approach the door and tap the center of the door with the old iron key handing from your neck three times then you insert it into the keyhole and twist it three times to the right and it slowly creeks open. rushing forwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you you start to tend to the fire stroking the coals and adding a few logs. while your bussing your self Heisenberg makes himself at home pulling out a chair and throwing his feet on top of the table and popping a new cigar between his lips . Turning to grab your tea pot you see this unfold waltzing over to him and slapping his feet of the table

"That is mahogany" as you say this he goes to protest " no 'lord' Heisenberg you in my domain now no feet on the table" you snatch the cigar from between his lip and toss it into the fireplace "and no smoking in the main room."

"alright, alright," he says holding his arms in the air "one you could have just put it out and handed it back thumper, and second of all watch who your talking to darlin" to this you quickly respond with

"Still dont care" he gives you grunt as a response

"third of all I still have yet to disclose the nature of my visit I need you to look at something for me" and with that he stands up his chest now centimeters from your nose he reaches for his hat and sunglasses setting them on the table, tossing his trench coat on to the chair. your face quickly turning a shade of red dark enough to rival the radishes out in garden as you realize just what he is doing. pulling of his shirt with a wince. Holding his shirt in his hands, you try not to make your gaze obvious, he slowly turns to reveal a large, deep laceration very poorly bandages and clearly in the throes of a terrible infection. you immediately push all other thoughts aside concern taking its place, you recognized this wound, you where present when he resaved it .

flashback

"you stupid man child, you know nothing you should just leave the talking to the adults like a good little boy"

"shut your dame hole you bitch"

they have been going at it for 37 minutes and counting Alcina said something Karl disagrees and so the back and forth begins about 5 minutes ago Karl brought out his hammer and been waving it out in the open. tensions have been rising and your a little worried it is about to get violent. Anggie who had been watching the argument from you lap starts to vibrate with joy sensing the approaching violence.

"ooooooooohhh its aaboutttttt tooo get goooooodddddd!!!" she sings while hoping off your lap to sit closer on donnas lap seeing as you are perched by the back wall behind Miranda. and just as you both had predicted disaster struck.

"you insolent fool." Alcina suddenly cry's, swiping her hand forward as Karl turns his back to her slashing from shoulder to hip. you immediately rush forward, only to be stopped by mother Miranda holding her arm in your path.

"ENOUGH, stop the foolishness NOW!" Miranda's voice ringing out clear through the entire hall "Heisenberg my son, stand," she demands. he slowly makes his way to his feet now facing mother Miranda "your actions have been stupid and reckless as punishment, I shall leave you with this burden to care for. maybe it will teach you how much effort it takes heal rather than destroy. and what if feels like to live with ones mistakes." you hand covers your mouth as you bite your tongue. you may not like Karl that much but he still is not as bad as they say.

end scene

"BY THE GODS, how has this not healed yet!? have you been rubbing dirt in it? I knew this was a stupid lesson. I knew I should have gone against that two faced, false goddess, pretensive ass, bitch and marched my happy ass to that factor. THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO, this should have been gone ages ago!!!" you shout while carefully examining the laceration. quickly you pull out the char he was previously siting on out, so he could sit on it with his back to the fire and lean on the back of the chair. grabbing Heisenberg's shoulders you gently shove him into the chair. rushing around you grab several herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles. then over to the counter you produce a mortar and pestle along with several oils and extracts

"woooow, thumper slow down, slow down," he chides calmly garbing your shoulders, your arms still packed full of items. slowly he starts to set the items on the table. "now I didn't rub dirt in it, but there might be some oil, its not healed because I have no idea how to treat a wound this large. and what's this about Miranda being a bitch and ignoring orders?" as he says this you realized just how bad you have fucked up.

"OH MY GODS, I didn't mean a word of it lord Heisenberg I meant no disrespect please I am so sorry dont tell mother Miran-" you franticly bow keeping your eyes to the floor hoping he would ether spare you make you death quick. while he clearly doesn't like Miranda or her family he was still a part of it.

"hay hay hay thumper calm down your alright. I'm not gonna go all psycho on you, and your secret is safe with me, your not the only one with unsavory views on that bitch Miranda." your slowly look up at him in shock it is widely know that he disagree with the other lords but this is a first. you gingerly make your way over to the table and start to mix together several herbs and flowers. "and thumper just call me Karl" he says with a flirtatious grin, you blush but grinding the herbs into a powder

"only if you stop calling me thumper." slowly adding some drops of oils to the mixture making a thick green salve.

"well I gotta have something to call you bunny" he say grin stretching across his face as you blush even more now

"well my name is (Y/N) ok, now stop" you say while puffing up you cheek in a pout. rushing behind him so he can no longer see your face and you can apply the salve" this is going to sting" not give him tome to proses any thing you said you rip off the bandages and start to carefully apply the salve. a shout bubbles up in his throat the second the salve touches his shoulder

"SON OF A Bitch..." he snarls" maybe a little more warning next time y/n" as soon as he growls out your name you short circuit you hand no simply resting next to his wound "y/n... y/n" he waits a couple of seconds before trying again. "y/n!" jumping a little you come back to reality " you all good back there" Karl questions

"almost done just need to finish this up, then I will apply bandages, and all you need to do is rest for a day or two" as you Finnish saying this you reach for he bandages and gently begin to properly wrap the wound "this is how you properly wrap a wound Karl" you make sure to say first his name. "go all the way around and over and around the shoulder" slowly and carefully placing the bandages showing him the movements and positions. you move around to the front of lightly wrapping his shoulder "dont go to tight when bandaging joints, it increases mobility but not lose enough to move" as you speak solely focused on you task at hand you dont see Karl staring at your face, a look of adoration on his face which he is quick to drop once you turn to him. gently patting his shoulder "now all you need is a lot of rest and a hot meal" smiling you slowly make your way over to the fire removing the teapot and hanging a medium sized cauldron over the fire. turning kettle in hand you see Karl putting on his hat and going to pull his coat on having already put his shirt on

"well thumper its been wonderful but I have to get back to my-" you cut him off taking his coat and hanging it by the door.

"oh no you don't, you need rest and real food, and not to make any assumptions but I doubt you'll get any of those in your factory" as you say this you put the chair back in its normal position swiftly going to a small spare room on the side. grabbing a thick blanket you walk to the table, and drape it over the back of the chair. patting it flat you open your arms and jester to the chair "now please have a seat food will be done shortly" you say with a smile as he just stand there slack jawed at you attempting to boss him around. slowly he take a seat and just watches as you prepare a cup of tea for you both "hear this should help with the pain" you say handing him a large mug that still looked too small in his hand. you turn and head back to the counter and start dicing us vegetables and some fish to put the cauldron.

"thank you" he mumbles quietly watching you dance about the kitchen a soft smile on his face. "so what's your story? you obviously dont like Miranda so why stay and be her little pet healer on her beck and call." Karl jests wanting to know more about you now that he has the chance with out his stupid family there

"well a long time ago I has someone I had to look out for, they needed help I could not provide it, Miranda could. So I made a deal, help her, and ill do as wish. So I comply to keep her safe and happy, if it went for her, I would have sent that false deity to her flaming grave decades ago." you finished cutting the veggies and meat depositing it in the pot, you make your way opposite of Karl at the table and take a seat. slowly sipping your tea. "now I just tend to the villagers for Miranda and visit my belladonna"

"wait who is belladonna" he askes a look of confusion overtaking his features

"my apologies, I mean donna, before Miranda adopted her and gave her her gift she was a sad and lonely child with parents too ill to save, so after her parents passing, I watched over her and loved her as my own" you say a soft smile on your face looking around the room I was the only one she let touch Anggie, she was such a kind child asking so many questions behind closed doors and always eager to learn new skills" you reminisce the old days setting your now empty cup on the table. "but now she's grown and well, and happy, so that is all that matters" you say curtly standing and heading over the the bubbling pot of stew and giving it a stir.

"so wait your telling me you the witch who raised Benevento," Karl spouts astonishment clear in his voice. "One how are you not dead yet? Two that's why you spend so much time in that spooky ass house, and three how come you aren't an old hag you dont look a day over 25?" even in shock this man some how still manages to throw in a flirt. you give a small chuckle.

"well when I struck my deal with Miranda," you make you way over to a tall cabinet and withdraw two wooden bowls and a large ladle ." donna was just become a young adult, so she new what excepting Miranda's gift would entitle, including the prolonged life." returning to the stew and scooping a hefty serving into Karl's bowl and only filling your half way. "after her parents suicided she couldn't handle the loss another parental figure, her words not mine, she refused the treatment unless Miranda changed me as well." hanging the ladle on the wall and carefully turning back to Karl and making your way to him. "I had already had my go at life and helped as many as I could so I agreed not expecting to come out alive," you say calmly sitting down in the seat acres from Karl. "unfortunately my will was to strong so hear I am now, a fail experiment serving out my end of the deal" you give a sarcastic smile and do a little jazz hands as your story comes to a close. Karl is still for moment then burst into a deep laughter, but still alarmed at your willingness to except death.

"I'm sorry bunny I dont mean to be insensitive," he attempts to suppress his chuckles. "you are really the one that raised donna?"

"yes I am I know its a little hard to believe, but yes." you say solemnly feeling a little weird everyone who knew you too be donnas nanny have long since passed.

"no no no, there ain't nothing wrong with that darlin! In fact you did fucking awesome, out of all of us monsters she has the best manners and turned out the best." he says in a panicked tone, afraid he has said something wrong.

"Karl none of you are monsters, and your ok you didn't say anything wrong" you say quickly adding " none of you are monsters! you and the other were forced into the experiments, unlike donna and I. your only a monster when you subject an enter village to a false religion just to slaughter them for her experiments under the name of a sick false family she has not love for!" you say venom and hate for that hag dripping from each word. a stern but caring look on your face as you look rights in his eyes as you say this "you aren't a monster. you where a kid with out a choice, and now you are a man surviving and your doing amazing in your situation." you cautiously grab his hand resting in the table " you are not a monster no mater who has told you that including your self" He pulls back lightly but does not remove your hand from his., allowing you to rub his knuckles.

"but I-" he starts but you dont let him continue

"nope you cant convince me other wise, I'm the village crazy witch I am all knowing and wise." you say in a cherry tone, garbing his hand with both of yours. using one to tap out a small tune on the back of his hand. that nice deep laughter made an appearance again you have to admit its nice to hear him laugh instead of ague with everyone.

"well dame bunny, can't argue with that logic now can I " A large toothy grin takes over his face little crinkles show at the corners of his eyes. shaking his head he gives a chuckle then picks up the bowl of stew and finishing what was left in the bowl in a few gulps. setting the bowl down he asks "shit that hit the spot, can I just take you home with me and have you cook for me every night that some dame good stew" he jokes. laughing a little you finish your bowl, garbing his you stand and bring them to a bucket at the end of the sink.

"no I cant come home with you every day" rinsing the plates before setting them in the bucket you continue. "but you can come over when ever the lantern on the porch is light, if its not I am either in the village with a patient, or visiting donna or Miranda, or foraging. I am a busy witch Karl, just a warning." he chuckles

"ill make a note of that expect me often that shits good." he says pointing at the pot hanging over the small flames.

"well in that case ill put some in jars so you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow" you say off handedly while making your way over to the pot fishing the leftovers out, and putting it in two large mason jars. out of the corner of your eye you see him deflate a little when you when you mention his departure tomorrow. moving over to a wall of cupboard you store the two jars "to night you can take my bed or the cot in the guest room, though I dont know if you'll fit" you say walking over to said door and opening it reveling a small room with a vanity in the back left corner to the left of the door was a small sink and counter with a basin next to it. opposite to that was a small cabinet and in the back right corner a small wooden cot about half the side of the man now standing directly behind you in the doorway. so close, when he took a deep breath you could feel his shirt brush your, and his warm breath fans across your neck. now with bright red face you make you hastily make you way to the cabinet to the right of the door and start to grab a large quilt and a pillow or two. Karl enters the room looking around taking in the new environment and casually making his way over to the cot and taking a seat. you head over to him staring at the blanket hoping that he would not see your face

"thank you, y/n you really could've just sent my packing I really appreciate it I do" he says with a soft smile resting on his scared face, 'it suites him,' you think to your self 'he should smile more.'

"well hear you go this should be think enough it gets pretty chilly in hear and I haven't fixed the heater yet so if you need more there are some in the cabinet you say gesturing to the cabinet with your head. holding the blanket and pillow out for him to take he reaches hands grazing against yours as he takes them from your hands pulling them closer"

"thanks bunny I re-" he is abruptly cut short by a sharp wine of wood under duress followed quickly by a loud snap of the cot braking a the loud thud of Karl's ass hitting the floor. "OH FUCK" Karl was now the one looking up at you. slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the laughter about to burst from you.

"OH by the gods, are you ok" you say still trying to hold back the onslaught of giggles offering a hand for him to take

"so this is what the weather is like down here" he says jokingly as you hoist him off the ground carful of his shoulder and back. gently slapping his chest

"I'm only a little shorter than you, ya know" you say "but in light of me needing to purchase a new cot from duke, I guess you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." he gives you a flirty look

"dame thumper if you wanted me in your bed that bad all you had to do was ask not buries my ass first" he says with a deep chuckle.

"I am not tying to get you in my bed" you say panicked face exploding with red. "I wont even be in it with you, and secondly it wasn't that far of a drop so the only thing damage was you ego and my cot obviously. now come follow me please." you say now attempting to lead him out of the room. Karl looks at you as if he was trying to figure something but soon trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you lead him through the main room down a hallway with three doors heading to the furthest down you push open the heavy wooden door. letting Karl enter first you make your way to the bed garbing your favorite pillow and a thick blanket off the bed spread "well she's all yours" you say jokingly waving your arm over the bed as a invitation dont lay on your back or shoulder" you say making your way back to the door arms now full "sleep well." and with at you turn to leave only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

"wait if I'm sleeping here and I just demolished your spare bed where will you be sleeping" he ask concern lacing his voice a he turn you around to face him

"well ill go clean up the old cot and then ill just use some spare blankets as a mattress for the night." you say with out a second thought.

"no no no, I will not let you do that you have done enough for me. I'll just go back to my factory and be out of your hair." your face scrunches up.

"you say that as if I am annoyed by you, but I can assure you, you do not annoy me. next I wont let you leave this hut you need to rest and I need to change those bandages as soon as you wake." you say no room for argument evident in your voice. "and if you have such an issue using my bed but I apologies its the only one, and I wont let you sleep on the floor with that wound." you with finality.

"then I guess well just have too share it. cues I will just jump through a window to go back home" he say with a laugh. you have no idea if he was joking or not. still, gazing up at his face the smirk remained "so" he asks "which will it be will you join me or and I gonna have to practice my long distance sprint." you sigh growing tired with every passing second your long day finally catching up too you. no longer having any energy to argue.

"fine" you huff out walking over to the bed where Karl was I like the right side" climbing in you take a body pillow from the back of the bed putting it in the middle " you better stay on your half of the bed old man" you say climbing back down from the bed and heading a dresser under a large window. you produce a pair of sleep thin pants and a large think white long sleeved shirt. "I need to change so ether steep out or just dont look." to tired to care at this point you look over your shoulder and see him turned away from you sitting on the left side of the bed. replacing your dirty clothe with fresh sleep pants and a oversized top. garbing a spare pair of large sleep pants and shirt before making your way back to the bed, flopping onto it comically ,while tossing the change of clothing on his side of the bed "hear you go, this should fit" he looks down at the articles of clothing.

"well thank you bunny," undoing his belt and changing his pant, completely ignoring the new shirt. "but uhhh I dont think that shirt is gonna work though" he says smirk evident in his voice.

"and why would that be-" you ask confusion clear on you face as you roll over to face him without thinking. face exploding in color as you freeze up, now staring at his bare chest brain loosing any train of thought.

"my eyes are up hear now bunny," he says with a deep chuckle "but please dont let me interrupt your staring. as for why I never sleep with one its confining" smirk never leaving his face, as he lays down on his half of the mattress. quickly you roll over

"I wasn't staring, I zoned out. Just toss the shirt on to the top of the dresser" he gives another chuckle but says nothing. pulling the thick comforter up to you chin due to the chill, reaching over you turn the knob on the lantern smothering the flame. "good night Karl sleep well" you say without a second thought closing your eyes slowly, reality fading out as you hear Karl

"goodnight thumper sleep well" a gentleness to his tone that sends the rest of the way to sleep.

word count: 5884

ps: please forgive my horrid grammar

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil #res 8 #res evil #donna beneviento #re8 angie #re8 donna #re8 karl heisenberg

53 notes · View notes

whirlybirbs · 3 years

Text

MOONLIT DUNES. ; boba fett / reader ; 1 / ?

summary: you’ve found many things in the dunes. a gravely injured mandalorian is a new thing to add to the ever growing list. set directly after return of the jedi.

word count: 3.5k

pairing: boba fett / scavenger!reader

tags: some body horror, injury mention, boba loses his leg, reader does first aid, the great pit of carkoon really did one on our man

a/n: my hand slipped i swear.............. (this has been in the works since may)

In all your years spent drifting about the land of Tatooine, you’ve found many things in the dunes.

Rare racing pod parts that had been discontinued after years of upgrades... Discarded weaponry, no doubt used for something more nefarious than Bantha hunting... and many, many skulls, sentient and otherwise.

Such comes with the life of a scavenger — live off the land and the things buried deep; harvest trinkets of lives long since forgotten in the ever changing tides of glittering sand.

However, never in your life — in all the days spent beneath the twin brother suns — have you ever found someone alive in the dunes.

Until today, that is.

You should have known venturing North of Mos Eisley was a bad idea. After all, the plains beyond the space port were ridden with starved sarlacc pits. But, with Tanto — the resident Junk Boss — down your throat about catching up on your few owed debts, you’d decided to weigh the risk and trek on towards the looming beast on the horizon: the Great Pit of Carkoon. With any luck, you’d be able to scavenge what little undigested pieces the massive creature had belched back up — maybe some Gamorian armor, or a blaster or two — after one of Jabba’s usual disposal runs.

Ah, Jabba.

Rumor had it that Jabba Desilijic Tiure was dead.

You knew better than to ask about mere rumors being tossed around the clock-out lines as you turned in your hauls for the day. Like you did every evening, you kept your head down. But, you did listen. You always listen — and from what you could gather, there’d already been a few scavenging parties dispatched to the Northern region.

Something about a jedi, a princess and a hell of a mess.

Not that any of that mattered — because dwelling on some fantastical retelling of a lie by Frokop Golp, the resident drunk swindler, wasn’t going to keep you fed. You were hoping that at the least, the part about one of Jabba’s sail barges going down by the Great Pit of Carkoon wasn’t a lie. Then, you could maybe find a few transistor coolant coils...

The dawning realization that you were betting another day’s ration portion on a spun half-truth embellished by the local drunkard hits you as your dewback, a kindly older male you’d named Scud, finally reaches the crest of the highest dune overlooking the Carkoon wastes. For a moment, as you squint into the setting sun, you wonder if this is even going to be worth it.

You sigh, adjusting the light linen face covering over your nose and mouth, and gently urge Scud forward.

No use in dwelling. You’re already here.

“Hup.”

As you near, the wreckage seems to have been picked over completely. Scud plods slowly towards the wreck, tail swatting cautiously as the sarlacc a few meters ahead gives a low hiss at the vibrations riling it awake through the sand. You rock with the slow canter, one hand on the horn of the saddle and the other moving to reach behind you to your pack.

There rests a longspear — the top is crowned with the head of a gaderffii. You’d made it ages ago, well before your fifteen birthday, and it had become as much as a steadfast companion as Scud himself. With a flick and a satisfying click, the longspear extends from it’s compacted state. Resting the butt end against your forearm as Scud continues his meandering pace, you run the spear tip through the sand to your left.

No give.

The dunes creating a wall around the beast’s mouth stand strong. Over the large ridge, and a handful of meters away, tentacles swing eagerly through the air like malicious little whips, hungry for their next meal. The hulking beast, well over 10,000 years old, knows you’re here now — the desperate moan from it’s gaping maw is enough of an indication of that fact.

For now, keeping your distance and guiding Scud towards the barge, you’re safe.

The party barge had certainly seen better days — seems like a bolt from the main gun had ruptured a fuel line below the deck. Half submerged in an encroaching dune, you’re not surprised to be greeted by the foul stench of sun-rotting corpses as you hop down from Scud. Your boots, made of stretched and tanned Bantha hide, kick up a cloud of dust when you land.

Even with the twin suns beginning to set, the sand is hot.

There are footpaths leading to the barge, partially washed away by the wind pulling the sand closer to the mangled helm of the ship. Patting Scud’s neck as you pass, you grip your staff tightly — one tap of the durasteel spear to the twisted hole in the starboard side sends a scattering hiss of a pack of womp rats caught lounging in the evening shade. Carefully, you duck beneath the warped siding and over the lip of metal, eyes flicking around the cavernous sail barge.

The engine room is where you find yourself… or, well, what’s left of it. The engine has since bottomed out of the barge, no doubt laying in the dunes a few meters away. The smell of propulsion liquid burns in your nostrils, even with your white linen head-covering wrapped tight across your face.

You move on, hauling yourself towards the engine and grabbing two of the smaller propulsion pistons from the transmission. You swing your staff across your shoulder. The strap digs into your neck as you lean into the engine and try to disconnect the main hydraulic line from the engine part.

There’s a part of you, small and girlish, that remembers being scared of dark wreckages like this when you were younger. The terrifying scenario of stumbling into a krayt dragon’s nest used to play over and over in your head; and even now, the irrational little thought nags the back of your mind like a bite from a sand flea. What was rumbling beneath the sand, ready to make you its next meal?

In reality, the most likely scenario would be Tusken scouts roughing you up over encroaching on their territory.

Scud, though, you trusted enough to give holler at the sight of another being — skittish was one of his best traits, especially when sometimes the biggest danger out here in the dunes (aside from sarlaccs) was other sentients.

If the Kiqan tribe spotted you this far out? At worst, you’d lose some of the scavenged parts from earlier in the day as a barter. The Kiqan, the tribe local to this region, knew well enough that the majority of scavengers meant well. Unlike some of the tribes native to the Western lands, the Kiqans have come to terms with the traffic coming in and out of Mos Eisley.

Their chief, a broad and strong woman called Rhaza’hoq, led a clan of twenty Tusken men and women. On more than one occasion, you’d crossed paths with her — you’d come to recognize the womp rat jaw as a part of her head covering and a pelt of bantha donning her shoulders. Though their native tongue felt wrong to you, like prying dry sounds right from your throat, you’d tried to apologize for your trespass.

That seemed to have been enough respect garnered for the chief to allow you to pass through the Bo’mar Flats in peace. You’d even offered up an armful of rifle components as a gesture of good faith — one you haven’t regretted since.

If they were to catch you here, you’d lose a good lump sum of money. The two battered sheets of durasteel strapped to the side of Scud, each four feet by four feet, would catch a fair price at the Junkyard in Mos Eisley. So, you quietly resign your attempt to dislodge the third propulsion piston and shoulder the two others. Your sack swings heavily against your hip as you plant your boot on the lip of the engine and reach through the hole the ignition blast caused in the floor.

Almost as immediately as you haul yourself up do you regret it.

The smell is wretched, and as you cough and gag you can’t help but recoil in disgust.

Your arrival on the main floor of the sail barge brings with it the cacophonous sound of cave beetles wings; the insects scatter as you press your forearm to your face — you’re left only to stare in horror at the sight before you.

Jabba Desilijic Tiure was very dead.

The infamous Hutt is little more than a snack for the various animals who have come and gone from the wreckage, now. Reduced only to a rotting mess of flesh and bones, you feel the swell of bile creep up into your throat as you tear your gaze away.

“Gods above,” you heave, coughing loudly.

That’s when you hear it.

A weak sound.

A strangled moan.

Small, quiet, and nearly nothing but a whimper.

For a moment, your muscles seize up so tightly that you're left holding your breath — was that you? Had that sound slipped from your throat the moment you’d let your eyes slip to the open windows along the starboard side of the ship, overlooking the Great Pit beyond the dune ridge?

Then, you see him.

It’s the single weak raise of a gloved hand in the dirt that spurs you into motion.

Scud, too, in that moment must have realized you both weren’t alone — he gives a great baying moan as you scramble, slipping through the whole and back down the engine. You scale it with ease, staff swung over your shoulder at the ready the moment your boots hit the ground.

You dart out into the sun, escaping the festering wreck, and bolt towards what you had previously thought was just a mangled, twisted piece of a rear booster. Making your way up the rising dune, you groan and push your muscles to reach what you now recognized as a destroyed jetpack — and beneath it, a man.

Your spear greets his body first, rounded butt end planting itself beneath his side and with one good nudge, rolling him over.

That’s when you realize he is very much alive and he is very much missing a leg.

Almost immediately, you sink to the dirt.

He’s big. His chest bears a cracked and scathed piece of armor. One arm, with a tattered sleeve and no glove, bears a shoulder pauldron with an insignia long since charred away. It seems like the entire left side of his body had been scorched by some sort of blast. His jetpack, mangled and shredded, is the first to go. You unbuckle the straps along his arms with an utterance of apology.

You’re greeted with a low groan. Slight protest.

Confusion.

His eyes do not open. Swollen eyelids stay shut.

Clicking your tongue and hollering in Huttese, your lumbering dewback trods closer.

His face is sunburnt, the plains of his sharp cheekbones blistering from the exposure to the sun and sand — though, something ticks in the back of your mind. These burns are fresh. From the last day at least. Suddenly, you’re wondering if he’s a fellow scavenger who’d fallen into the pit.

The jetpack would explain the escape.

You toss the pack down the hill.

You follow it, tripping down the sand towards the side of Scud as you scramble for one of the durasteel sheets. Laying it flat on the hot sand, you wonder how on earth this man had survived this long…. A day at least, judging by the sand swept around him and the burns along his arms and face. How long had he been in The Pit?

Gods above.

The Bo’mar Flats were not a kind place when left to the elements.

You land beside the man once more, this time speaking loudly.

“I am going to help you.”

You’re not sure if you’re saying it more for yourself or him.

There’s a part of you, as your eyes flick down to the stump of his left leg, that would give anything to turn away. Ride off, forget the gorish scene. Yet, the better part of you knows you’d simply come back come morning and do the same thing you’re doing now.

And then, come daybreak, he may not even be alive.

You tell yourself, as you squat and try and get a good grip, that you’re doing exactly what anyone else would do. But the reality is that’s far from the truth. Out here, it’s eat or be eaten.

With your luck, you’re stumbling into a metaphorical krayt dragon’s nest helping this man.

If only you knew.

You root both your fists in the material around his shoulders, worn enough to show the outline of where armor used to sit. And you pull.

It’s no easy feat. Even with gravity working in your favor, you’re struggling to haul the large man down the dune. The sand simply drags along, digging him into the dune as you curse in Huttese and spit out profanities sharp enough to make Scud shift on his peds. Your knuckles ache, fingernails having dug half moons into your palms through the material of his under-armor tunic. Landing backwards, you curse. But, you get back up again, and you pull.

It takes ten minutes to move him two meters to the durasteel sled downhill — and even longer to maneuver him onto the steel piece of scavenged material. By the end of it, you’re prying your scarf from your mouth to breath. Sweat tickles the back of your neck as your hands hit your knees and you groan.

“Koochoo,” you hiss at yourself in Huttese. Idiot is right. This is stupid.

Throughout this, the wounded man has offered nothing, not a single peep — you wonder if his last ditch hail of his hand was the only bit of energy he had left.

With him now on the makeshift sled, you move towards Scud’s left pack. Inside, you dig out your canteen and a spare bacta pack. The water sloshes around the hollow metal sphere. Once cold from your early hour of embarking, it’s warm to the touch.

It’s been a hot day.

Overhead, the twin suns have melted into a hazy coral color. They hang low across the horizon, suspended in a flickering bob of heat that dances across the clouds.

You fall to your knees in the sand. You need to move quickly. Soon, the sun will set and getting back to your hut just north of Mos Eisley is an hour’s ride at best.

The lower part of his left leg, from the knee down, is gone. The bleeding had long since stopped, clotted up from the sand and what looks like corrosive burns… Sure enough, the same patterning around his wrists tell you he sure as all kriff has been in the belly of the Great Pit of Carkoon. It’s the stomach acid that has melted the skin together just enough to halt the bleeding along his knee.

You exhale. Short and quick. Then, you pour your water across the limb.

That earns a loud groan of protest. Good to know he’s still alive.

The bacta is next, squeezed from the age old tube in a glob that lands above the wound. With an iron gut and quick sense of criticality, you rinse your own hands with water, all before holding your breath and pushing the palm sized amount across the mangled flesh and muscle. You try not to think about the way your own knee twitches, and instead, focus on planting your hand on the man’s chest — for the first time, he gives a true indication he feels it. The man writhes, contorting himself as a painful series of expletives fly from his mouth.

The chest plate buckles slightly, and when you lift your palm, the dirt smeared away shows a small emblem… Tan and green and red. What looks like wheat and a drop of blood…

It’s familiar, but you can’t remember why. You’ve seen it somewhere. Chewing the inside of your lip, you tear your eyes away and you move on. In a flash, you’ve hauled the linen head wrap from your hair. With the sun setting, you won’t need it as much as he will — keeping the sand out of the clean-enough wound will make a difference once you get him back to your home.

A part of you wonders if this man has any credits at all — truth be told you certainly don’t have enough to cover a visit to the local doctor. As you finish tying off his thigh, you reason that conversation is a bridge you can cross when you get there. For now, let’s just hope you can get him back to your dwelling alive.

Away from this wretched wreck.

By the time you’re mounted back up on Scud’s back, the suns have begun to dip below the dunes on the farthest horizon — the stars melt as they disappear, casting the shadows of the dunes in inky blacks. Behind Scud, the stranger is dragged, rigged to the saddle by two extending cables originally scavenged off an abandoned pod-racing setup, out by Bestine. The plating he rests on glides across the sand, leaving patterns in the dunes. You crane your neck, turning in the saddle, and frown.

There was certainly a first for everything.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Boba Fett wakes to the sight of a dirt ceiling.

The stirring confusion of unconsciousness subsides and almost immediately he is roused by pain — then comes the startling panic.

Is he dead?

Where is he?

What in the hell happened?

This is not the barge; there is no Luke Skywalker here, nor Solo nor the Wookie... The Pit… He’d fallen in. Yea, yea, he remembers that. But, he got out. Jetpack punctured. Flew him straight into the air. Burns. That’s the pain he feels. Burns? Yes. His back.

His leg. Something feels different. An ache. He tries to move his feet.

Boba groans, angled features contorting into a pained look as he tries to sit up on the cot; but suddenly, there’s a hand on the center of his chest. Gently, the hand pushes him down to the pillows.

Slowly, dark brown eyes follow the hand. Wrist, arm, shoulder, face.

Headscarf.

The first thing he realizes is that your eyes are beautiful, but soft. There’s kohl lining your eyes, making your stare piercing. Your brows are knotted in concern, and though he cannot make out the words that fall from your lips, he can understand the tone to be gentle. You’re speaking Huttese.

… Gods damn it all.

The Hutts.

Jabba.

Son of bitch was probably dead. He’s sure that the Desilijic Clan will have something to say about that.

Boba’s eyes slip shut as he exhales.

Sleep takes him easily.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When he wakes again, it’s evening. There are candles burning in the room, and once his eyes adjust he can make out your figure through a blanket covering the doorway at the end of the room — through the crack, he can see that you’re cooking over a small stove-top. He is laid up in the bedroom, he realizes, and on the floor across from the cot he lays upon is a pile of pillows.

You must have been watching over him.

Instantly, he’s looking for his blaster.

Call it a habit.

The mere act of bending sends pain shooting up his spine; and Boba finds himself gritting his jaw tightly as his knuckles tense and he tries to see any remnants of his armor or pack or weapons.

The commotion summons you in a flash.

This time, you have no headscarf on; Boba can now see the swell of your lips and the kind slope of your nose. You’re beautiful — his bruised and bloodshot eyes follow you as you glide into the room and duck beneath the patterned blanket separating the bedroom from the kitchenette.

There’s a plate of food in your hand. A fork and a knife rest on the edge of the painted plate.

“Careful,” comes a gentle utterance as you place the food beside his head on the table there, “Take it easy.”

Your basic is dashed with the light accent of Huttese. The syllables are melodic and gentle. You reach to help him into a sitting position, keen on making sure he’s comfortable —

Like a sand viper, the man before you has snatched the knife from the plate, swinging his hand quickly with a lethal sense of precision that stuns you silent. The coolness of the durasteel utensil is pressed right to your throat.

You can see the muscles in his arms tense, the sharp rise and fall of his bare chest. The blanket across his lap has slipped to his waist. Your jaw tilts upward, expression souring quickly. The kindness in your eyes quickly turns to ice.

When you raise your eyes to meet his, all Boba can see is defiance.

“Who are you?” he grits out hoarsely, “And how did I get here?”

“I found you,” you hiss, words scathing and hot as you raise both hands. There’s a wrinkle forming on the bridge of your nose, giving way to the angered expression flooding your face, “I’m beginning to see why The Great Pit of Carkoon spat you back up.”

The tension that builds settles heavily between you both.

And then, Boba Fett lowers the knife.

#moonlit dunes #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett x you #boba fett reader insert #star wars imagine #mandalorian imagine #I CANNOT HELP MYSELF

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Wash Day

Yall I just really want Trisskel to be a solid couple from like, day one and be happy and in love and hhhnnngggg. I have feelings. (specifically Netflix Triss and Game Eskel)

Summary: Modern AU Eskel helps Triss with wash day when she cant use her arms.

Warnings: Mentions of burn injuries and burns in healing process, nothing gorey, just the mention of scabs, temporary dependency, dealing with the shitty mental part of recovering from major injuries/surgeries - not fucking bathing, eskel is not flexible and tries so hard to do things right. bless, lol swearing as is usual

I’d like to put a little disclaimer that I did a bunch of natural hair care research for this but I have no experience save from helping my friend diffuse her hair before class.

________________

Triss groaned and tossed her phone to the other end of the couch she was perched on, wiping her one good hand over her face. Her burns over her chest still weren’t allowing her much range of motion with her right arm and her hair was starting to drive her absolutely insane. Yennefer was going to come over and help with wash day, but Ciri got in a fight at school, leaving Triss to sit with an itchy, ratted, and, frankly, horrendous head of hair.

She leaned her head back against the arm of the couch and sighed, not even able to adjust the bun Eskel had helped her with that morning.

Speaking of…

She scooted over the couch to pick up her phone, tapping the little call icon under his nickname, “Hey, Yen can’t come over tonight. No need to pick up the wine,” she sighed.

“Are you sure? Nothing wrong with a little treat, babe.”

“I’m sure. It was more for her efforts than my treat anyway.”

“If you say so… How are you feeling?”

“Less shit than this morning. I’m just tired,” she didn’t add the feeling of hopelessness that went along with not even being able to bathe on her own. He worried enough for the both of them and then some.

“I’m picking up the good wine. I’ve got one more client then I’m done. Maybe take a nap?”

“Skel…”

“I will spoil you if I want to. Oh! Look! There’s my 3:30! Bye Bug! Love you!” he hung up on her before she could protest.

She rolled her eyes as she lowered the phone into her lap, smiling a little despite her annoyance.

Gingerly, she made her way to their bedroom and laid down, running the risk of taking out the bun to lay comfortably. She turned on a podcast she told Jask she’d listen to and hoped to zone out at the least, if not actually sleep.

Triss was woken by Eskel stomping in their front door and dropping his gym bag with a dramatic thud. A few moments later she could hear grocery bags settling on the kitchen counter, the distinct sound of wine bottles bumping together reminding her what he probably had planned.

She ever so slowly tipped over and pushed herself up with her left hand, catching a horrifying full-body reflection in the mirrored closet doors.

The scabs and little spots that were still bandaged she was starting to get used to, but the rest of her? Looking at herself in sweats that hadn’t been changed in two days, a summer tank top with no bra and coffee stains, and mismatching fuzzy christmas socks was… difficult. Her hair was wild, all the curls stretched out and sticking together in big frizzy clumps that stuck out at odd angles.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had only been four weeks. No one was going to be back to normal after four weeks. Her body was using all its energy to heal, not look put together.

Regardless of her efforts she felt the tears well up in her eyes and her breath hitch with the effort of holding them back.

It still fucking sucked.

Eskel’s soft touch on her thigh made her jump, “Is it hurting again?”

She shook her head, opening her eyes to see him knelt in front of her with his eyebrows drawn up in worry, “No. I’m okay,” she whispered, pulling herself together and resting her hand over his.

Eskel tilted his head, “Then what’s wrong?”

“I… I look like I fell down the garbage chute,” she laughed. It wasn’t her usual, musical laugh, though. She laughed because she knew, in the grand scheme of things, it was ridiculous. It felt stupid to be worried about how she looked when she’d lived and, well, laughing was better than more tears.

“You’re always lovely to me,” Eskel hummed, brushing her tears away with the back of his knuckles.

She leaned into his touch and took a steadying breath, “I just don’t feel like me.”

He stretched up to kiss her forehead, “I’m sorry, Bug.”

She just shrugged and squeezed his hand.

“Yen called. I got a very long lecture on wash day and firm orders to help you wash and deep condition your hair. If you’re feeling up to it,” Eskel flashed that crooked grin she could never resist and she shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Are you prepared to follow instructions?” she teased.

“Babe,” he raised one eyebrow, “the only instructions I don’t follow are on Top Ramen packs.”

Eskel seemed to have confused ‘instruction’ with ‘directions’.

“I swear to God, Eskel. You don’t have to read the ‘how to use’ blurb,” Triss groaned, sitting on a kitchen chair they’d moved into the bathroom with dripping wet hair, “Just section off my hair and do what I tell you.”

“But I don’t want to use too much,” he protested, “This says to use one tablespoon!”

“Yeah! For natural blondes! I have completely different hair and know what I’m doing. Use half the bottle! I don’t care! Just get it fucking clean!”

Eskel rested his hand on her good shoulder and gave her an apologetic look in the mirror, “I’m sorry. How many sections do you want?”

“I- it’s not a number. You just- kneel down for me I’ll show you,” she pointed at the floor next to her and sighed, missing Yen more than ever. She drew little lines with her nails through Eskel’s hair as she explained just how to scrub while making the least amount of tangles possible. He watched her in the mirror and pointed to the points on her scalp she was talking about with a look of serious concentration.

It was cute. Even if he was a little inflexible he really did want to do a good job.

Conditioner was easier, even combing out the tangles went fairly smooth. They took a break and made dinner, breaking open the good wine.

Just having her hair down and somewhat bouncy again made Triss feel a million times better. The sweats were exchanged for yoga pants and the tank top for one of Eskel’s sweaters too. It almost felt normal.

They ate ice cream while he worked the deep conditioning mask through her hair.

“You sure I’m not using too much?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to take the bite she held up for him, nice and small so he didn’t get a brain freeze.

“Fbe moreb fbe bedder,” she tried speaking around a giant bite of ice cream, giggling at the face of confusion he made with the spoon still sticking out of his mouth.

She swallowed and scrunched her nose at the light brain freeze, “The more, the better. We’ll rinse it out in the morning and I don’t want any dry spots.”

He nodded and waited for her to take the spoon back before getting back to work, “Yes ma’am.”

“Mmm, I like that.”

Eskel rolled his eyes as she let down a new section, “Oh do you, now? I had no idea.”

“Mhm!” she nodded with a proud smile, taking another bite of ice cream and earning a chuckle from him.

She walked him through a couple rough twists and adjusting the plastic soaking cap before attempting to explain how to tie a headscarf. He was… truly awful. Somehow she ended up almost blindfolded before she just gave up and found him a video to follow. It took him a few tries, but eventually he got it the right level of snug. I

She tried to tilt her head back to look at him but that pulled at some of her new scar tissue, so she tried another angle and another before she huffed and resorted to standing up to look at him, “Thank you Skel.”

“No problem, Bug,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her nose.

Triss laid her head on his chest, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head, “No, I mean it. It… helps. A lot.”

He rubbed soothing circles over her back, swaying them slightly, “I’m just glad I could do something…” he took a breath like he wanted to say something more but settled for pressing a kiss to the sloppily tied scarf. She hummed and leaned into him, snaking her hands around his hips and up under his shirt to rest over his back dimples.

Triss could have stayed there forever.

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ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

I just wanna feel alive with you

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 1,488 words Pairing : Jay Halstead x reader; Will Halstead x Natalie Manning Author's note : This is the second one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

Disclaimer

The Manning/Halstead family hears the doorbell ring in the evening. Owen runs from the kitchen to the door, yelling, "It's Uncle Jay! It's Uncle Jay!"

"Stay right where you are, Owen! Do not open the door by yourself!" yells Natalie back from the kitchen.

Will puts the last salmon on the plate and then moves to open the door, ready to welcome Jay and his girlfriend. Jay told him yesterday that he will bring you to dinner tonight. These last couple of months, Will and Natalie have met you a few times at Molly's. Natalie welcomed you back with open arms, but Will still has some resistance. He doesn't exactly disapprove of you for his brother. Will is just waiting for any sign of you changing your mind about staying. Jay told Will that he is happy and asked Will to give his girlfriend a chance. That's why Will agreed to host dinner tonight at their house.

"Hi, Dr. Halstead," you greet Will politely. Will crosses his hands in front of his chest. "We brought cheesecake?" you offer Will the box on your hands.

"What kind of cheesecake?" Owen pops out behind Will's back.

"Uh, New York, Strawberry, Oreos, Salted Caramel and Hazelnut Chocolate," you describe the content of the box. Seeing Owen's eyes widened in amazement and Will's unimpressed glare, you continue to explain with a grin, "They all look great. I cannot just pick one,"

Owen gives Will's pants a tug, "I like cheesecake," He tells Will, afraid that Will is going to reject your offer.

"I know, bud," Will replies to him. "Let's ask Uncle Jay and Miss Y/N to come in," He opens the door wider to let their guests in. Owen quickly latches on you. He drags you (and the cheesecake box) to the kitchen area.

"If she's trying to get back on my good graces, sugar-crashing Owen is not the correct way to go," Will says to Jay after closing the door.

Jay smirks at Will, "Hey, you're the one who asked us to bring dessert."

"A momentary lapse of judgment." Will solemnly admits.

◢◤

You and Jay volunteer to wash the dishes after dinner is done, while the family shares a few pieces of cheesecake between the three of them. Once the cakes are finished, Will and Natalie take Owen to get ready for bed. Owen hugs you tight before going. "Thanks for the cheesecake."

You hug him back and land a kiss on his baby cheek, "You're welcome. Sweet dreams, Owen."

You and Jay then move to sit on a couch in the living room. You have a mug of tea in your hand, while Jay has a plate of New York cheesecake in his. A rerun of the Blackhawks game is playing on TV. You put your tea down and start to steal small bites of cake from Jay's plate. But apparently, Jay is not too engrossed by the game as much as you thought. He moves his plate away from your reach with a laugh, "Why don't you take your own piece?"

"Yours is better," You say with Jay's fork still in your hand.

"Oh yeah?" Jay leans in closer to kiss you. His tongue is asking for an entrance that you gladly give. His kiss is even sweeter than the dessert. You only pull away when you hear Will's clearing his throat loudly, letting you know that they are back in the room. "Hmm, that one tastes the best," Jay hums to you before he sits back on the couch.

Will and Natalie sit on the other couch. She has a pad on her hands and seems to be preoccupied with it.

"Work?" Jay asks Will, pointing out in Natalie's direction.

Will shakes his head to negate, "Wedding preparation." Jay nods his understanding.

"Hey, Y/N, do you know anyone who could DJ at our wedding?" Natalie looks up to ask you.

"I could do it," you casually offer the engaged couple.

"What? No way, you're.." Natalie starts to reason. But Will interjects from her side, "We cannot afford your price."

"I'm not planning to take fees," you feel insulted that they even think you're going to charge them. You glance at Jay for his support. Instead, you see Jay frowns at you rather than at the couple. "What? They're my friends. I won't take their money!" you exclaim.

"I know you won't." Natalie quickly sorts it out and throws a glare at Will. "But as you say, you are our friend. I won't have you working at our wedding reception. You'd be our guest, should enjoy the party." She continues to explain.

"What she said," Jay gestures his hand, agreeing at Natalie's words. "And I'd like to dance with my date at the party. Can't do that if she is the DJ, right?" He throws his arm around your shoulder and kisses your temple.

"Oh, c'mon, that is so not fair. Now I have to rescind my offer," you fake a disappointment, but your lips are twitching with an almost smile. "Okay, I'll ask around, see if anyone available," you tell Natalie.

"Thank you," Natalie taps something on her pad. "Yeah, just make sure their rate is in our budget," Will adds.

Natalie unsubtly elbows Will. He winces a bit, "What? Do you know how much she got paid per show? It's more than what I earned for a week full of surgeries!"

"Well, that's an exaggeration." You retort.

"How do you know how much she earned?" Jay raises his eyebrow at Will, curious.

"You don't know??" Will screeches.

"I do. But y/n is my girlfriend. We talked about this kind of thing. You, on the other hand, weren't even excited to talk to her until last week," Jay divulges to the floor. Will sends stinky eyes to his brother for ratted him out. You pretend to gasp in shock, but Natalie is just laughing at her fiancé.

"When I decided on a smaller wedding, I thought it would mean fewer things to take care of. But they still seem endless," Natalie puts the pad aside with a loud sigh. "What about you, Y/N? What would be your dream wedding like?"

"City Hall Wedding," you carelessly reply. Jay gapes at your response. You take advantage of his distraction to snitch his last piece of cheesecake.

"Oh, c'mon, be serious!" Will gestures his hand to you, half perplexed, half annoyed.

You drink your lukewarm tea to chase the stolen cheesecake down. "I am serious."

"You, who could afford a destination wedding on some private island with 500 guests, prefer a city hall wedding?" Will states his doubt.

You roll your eyes, slightly amused, "I'm pretty sure I cannot manage those things you described,"

"You know what I mean. You got a private jet. Got paid for 30k per gig. Your current net worth almost hits eight-figures. You can afford more than city hall." Will tries to get his point across.

"Okay, first of all, I do not have a private jet. It was chartered by the company since it was cheaper than paying plane tickets for the whole touring entourage," you sit up straight to explain. "Second, it's not about what I can afford. It's about what I want to do. I don't like big shindig, hence city hall wedding." you counter Will's argument.

"Unbelievable." Will shakes his head in disbelief.

"Now, if you ask me where would I go for my dream honeymoon? Of that, I could talk your ears off," you wink and grin at the engaged couple.

Natalie looks interested. She puts her hand under her chin, "Alright, I'm listening.."

◢◤

Jay takes you back to his place, even though you moved to your own place a couple weeks ago. You sit cross-legged on Jay's bed, completing your nightly regimen of skincare. Jay already lays at his bedside with one hand behind his head.

"Are you being honest about the city hall wedding?" Jay blurts out from your side.

"Why?" You ask him back.

Jay shrugs, "Just curious."

You pack your kits in a toiletries pouch and place it on top of the bedside drawer. "Well..." You lay on your side, facing Jay. "The most important thing is to whom I will be married to," Your fingers trace Jay's skin, from his shoulder to his arm. "I rather have a good, strong marriage that lasts forever than a fancy, dreamy wedding for one night." You hold up Jay's hand and kiss the back of it.

Jay groans and moves on his side to look at you, "Ergh, this is why they paid you big bucks for writing songs. You're a sap."

You laugh in response, "But you love me."

"Of course I am," Jay says with absolute certainty. His hand plays softly with your hair before framing your face. "One day, yeah?"

You kiss his palm and copy the sentiment, "One day."

+x Taglist +x

@lorenakaspersen @life-treatments @itsdesiree86

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fic #will halstead x natalie manning #One Chicago Fic #jay halstead #will halstead #natalie manning #owen manning #fanfiction #one shot #original work #wyftiiffy

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gabxbyr · 3 years

Text

See You Again (English version) Newt x Reader

(English is not my native language so excuse me if there is any mistake)

Finally they had made it. The Right Arm, the end of the Scorch, the end of hell, the end of WICKED. They didn't believe in it anymore and yet here they were, all sitting on the rocks high above the ground, contemplating the people who were gradually packing up the camp in order to leave tomorrow at dawn.

Y/N had delicately placed her head on Newt's shoulder in order to make the most of their newly acquired freedom. She could finally allow herself this simple gesture without having the impression that it was not the moment. Indeed the blond had confessed his love for her just before they fought the grievers to get out of the Maze but with the battle, Chuck's death -at this thought the girl's heart tightened- and the crossing of the Scorch they had never had the opportunity to live their relationship fully. And here, with her cheek on his warm skin and her nostrils impregnated with his masculine scent, she felt like she belonged. On top of that she was with her friends and that's all that mattered. Rather with a part of her friends sadistically reminded her brain as if to tarnish her sudden joy... It is true that many of her companions had died so that they could get there and she could not forget it. First there was Ben, a close friend of Minho and her, as they were all runners; then it was Alby's turn, their leader and their guide, to disappear. Then Chuck's sacrifice, which she still had a hard time getting over -maybe not as hard as Thomas, but still- and at the same time Gally's death, which saddened her, and then the last death, Winston's. Y/N still remembered his death and the way he had been treated. Y/N still remembered his screams when those damn cranks had lacerated his belly and that tragic gunshot that meant the death of their friend. At the thought she couldn't suppress a shiver.

-Y/N, Newt's voice suddenly rang out, waking her from her lethargy. Are you all right ?

He was surely aware of her silence and her shivers.

-Yes do not worry, she answered by playing gently with the fingers of the blond whom she fixed with a nostalgic face. I just thought of all the sacrifices which we had to endure to arrive here and of all the close ones that we lost.

Newt looked at the girl pressed up against him with a mixture of love, compassion and sadness in his brown orbs. He understood exactly what she was getting at, after all Alby was one of his best friends and he would never know they were out of the Maze. Yet he also knew that if he could do it again he wouldn't change a thing if it meant he could be here with her. It was with this thought that he gently lifted her face with his fingers under her chin to plunge his eyes into her Y/E/C ones.

-I know how you feel, we all feel it here. But you know as well as I do that we wouldn't be here without them, and maybe what I'm about to say will sound completely selfish, but I'm glad we're both here.

As an answer she gave him one of her sincere and radiant smiles that illuminated her beautiful face damaged by the dust and the sun. The blond wanted to bend down to kiss her sweet lips but Minho didn't count on it and took the girl by the armpits and made her turn in the air.

-Did I hear Princess depressed ?

-Minho ! Y/N shouted, ripped from the sweet embrace of the former second in command. Put me down right now or I swear I'll throw up on you !

-Better you throw up on me than on your loser boyfriend's mouth, said the asian boy proud of him. Don't you think ?

-Her loser boyfriend fucks you.

Newt had wanted to take a stern voice but he failed miserably far too happy to see his girlfriend and his best friend playing like children and laughing so lightly. It reminded him of the happy times he had spent on the Glade away from the horror of the outside world. Frypan must have been thinking the same thing because while the two of them were still running around behind each other the former Galder's cook approached the blond.

-I miss the Glade.

-Me too, Newt admitted. But now that it's all over I'm happy.

-Yes, it's all over, Fry murmured with a smile.

As the two troublemakers returned to sit with them breathless from their childishness Thomas arrived to join them, Chuck's statuette clutched in his fingers. There was a sudden silence as nostalgic thoughts undoubtedly resurfaced.

-If only Chuck could have seen this.

It was the brown man's voice, full of immeasurable sadness. Slowly Y/N put his hand on his shoulder in compassion as Newt cleared his throat.

-He would be so proud of you, Tommy.

The nickname made Thomas smile softly as he murmured a "yeah" in response. He missed little Chuck terribly, but was grateful to have Newt, Minho, Y/N, Frypan and Teresa by his side. He wondered where Teresa could be. He felt the need to see her and to hold her in his arms as the blond did with his friend. He was going to ask where she was but he was cut by Frypan who greeted Aris by shouting.

-l kinda like that kid.

Minho gave a septic look to Fry showing his disagreement with him.

-Yeah. I still don't trust him, though.

His remark made the blockards laugh, recognizing the typical suspicious behavior of the Asian.

-Minho in all his splendor, ladies and gentlemen.

The former keeper of the runners looked at the only girl of the group by raising his eyebrows then he smirked which never announces anything good.

-You, he began, pointing at her. Believe me I smell you ! You smell like klunk !

Suddenly a mini scream was heard coming out of his mouth as Y/N had just hit him in the shoulder.

-I call mistreatment of Asians racism, Frypan said.

-Thank you bro, Minho thanked him, pretending to cry. We understand each other !

After a new laugh from the blockards, Thomas remembered the question he wanted to ask before they debated Aris. He then turned his jet-black eyes towards his comrades.

-Hey, where's Teresa ?

Y/N frowned a little at the name. From the moment this girl arrived, she had found her strange and her doubts had been reinforced during their crossing of the Scorched Earth, but except for Minho and Newt, whenever she talked about it with someone, they told her that her suspicions were simply based on a feeling of jealousy because she was no longer the only girl in the group. Nonsense! The proof was that she got along very well with Brenda. But the girl with Y/H/C hair preferred to keep quiet and ignore the question unlike her boyfriend.

-Yeah, the blonde answered, pointing to a sharp rock in the distance behind them. She went up there.

The brunet thanked him with a nod before leaving hurriedly to meet her. They were all aware of Thomas' feelings towards his blue-eyed goddess and although the others didn't care -except maybe Minho who didn't hold Teresa in his heart- Y/N had a bad feeling.

This was confirmed when shortly afterwards bergs belonging to the WICKED began to arrive in the distance. The girl's heart began to pound ferociously as adrenaline and fear mingled within her. They had only just regained their fucking freedom!

The gladers only reacted when the first bombs hit the camp floor.

-Let's get moving, Minho yelled at them as he got up and headed downhill right into the action.

Y/N followed him after a last loving and fearful glance at Newt. Screams, blood and fire surrounded them now as they made their way to Harriet and Vince in search of weapons to fight with. Vince handed the gladers guns.

-Can you use these ?

They nodded and prepared to fire.

-Cover me, shouted the leader of the Right Arm.

So it was with fear but adrenaline that they stood around the van containing the machine gun and began firing at the WICKED soldiers. The rage of life they felt left little room for guilt, even though they would have deaths on their conscience.

-There are too many of them, Minho despaired.

They were running out of munitions and the asian's realization gave them an extra wave of fear... This was the end, WICKED was winning. As Y/N searched her pockets for ammunition she heard Vince's deep voice ringing in her ears just before she felt a wave of electricity run through every inch of her body and then she fell into unconsciousness.

When they woke up, the gladers were in a line, among the other WICKED subjects, kneeling and weakened. Y/N stood between Minho and Newt and looked at Rat Man with all the rage she felt. She had to look away, however, when a soldier came up behind her, scanned her neck and announced.

-A3.

This is what she was reduced to. A fucking number, like an animal. They were dehumanizing them as if they were nothing more than livestock. WICKED was intentionally forgetting that they were just teenagers. This realization made her clench her fists and teeth. Her impulsiveness was getting the better of her.

-Where's Thomas, she heard Rat Man ask.

And before she could stop herself, her rebellious and impulsive side surfaced.

-Up your ass, you rat-faced bastard !

A silence was created on the battlefield. Newt looked at her reproachfully as Janson turned red with anger. He approached the girl and before the gladers could react Rat Man took her by the arm and threw her into the middle of them all. And as she tried to get up from the ground, she was kicked in the abdomen, making her regret her stupid behavior.

-You want to play it smart ? Well you're going to regret it kid, he then turned to one of his colleagues. Did you say that we had almost all of them ?

Y/N saw the guard nod as she began to get really scared.

-Good, Janson seemed to be pleased as he loaded his gun and pointed it at her. I guess no one will mind if I kill one of them then ?

The salt-and-pepper haired man was preparing to shoot under the incessant shouting of the gladers and the threats of Newt when Thomas appeared.

-I'm here.

Janson then diverted his attention from the young girl who went to snuggle in the arms of her boyfriend. The latter held her against him as if his life depended on it.

-Everything's fine, he whispered in her ear, trying to reassure himself. I am there.

During this time the brown one also took a blow of the part of the Rat Man then was placed at the sides of Minho who looked at him dazed.

-Why didn't you run ?

-I'm tired of running.

His statement seemed to cast a sort of veil of hope over the blockards and Y/N lifted herself a little from the blond to give Thomas a discreet smile. He was right, they should stop running. However, her smile quickly faded when another berg appeared and landed a few meters away from their position, bringing a sense of fear back to the group.

Ava Paige. The woman with platinum blonde hair who was supposedly dead and was the head of the WICKED. Their worst enemy was standing in front of them, staring at them like the test subjects they were in her eyes. She ordered Janson to start the boarding and that's how the different teenagers were dragged towards the berg. So far, none of the gladers had been taken. However, Ava stopped in front of them and made Thomas stand up.

-Good evening, Thomas.

Was she making fun of him? She put him in a damn Maze, sent him to a city full of cranks and hunted him down to say a simple good evening ? The only thing the brunette could think at that moment was "go to hell" but he preferred to keep quiet and look at her, a defiant glare stuck to his face. However all trace of insolence flew away when Teresa appeared at the side of this woman.

-I don't believe it, said Minho, standing up.

-Teresa, Frypan murmured in astonishment.

-But what's going on here ? asked Newt lost.

-She's with the enemy, Thomas suddenly said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Y/N couldn't stop a nervous laugh from coming out of her lips as a huge hatred took place in her heart.

-I knew it, she whispered, realizing she was right all along. You are a fucking traitor !

The blond realizing that his girlfriend was once again going to put herself in a sensitive situation placed his arm in front of her as if to protect her and prevent anyone from hurting her. He would not allow it.

That was the moment Janson chose to intervene.

-Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Once we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time.

-I'm sorry, she began as the gladers looked at her accusingly. I had no choice. This is the only way. We have to find a cure.

Thomas lowered his head feeling his heart tear as the girl he was in love with drove the stake of betrayal deeper into his heart. He wanted so badly for this to be just a nightmare yet he knew it was real.

-And a cure for your bullshit ? Minho interjected with his usual sarcasm. Didn't you find it ?

-Drop it, Minho, added Y/N. All it would take is a little loyalty and humanity.

The dark-haired girl looked down but ignored them royally as Ava confirmed her words. The latter was trying to convince them that she was not a monster and that she just needed more time. But Marie, the camp doctor, spoke up.

-And more blood !

-Hello, Marie, said the blonde woman as the female doctor approached. I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.

-I'm sorry about a lot of things too, Marie cut her off. But not this. At least my conscience is clear.

Unlike Teresa, Y/N thought furtively before concentrating on Ava's answer.

-So is mine.

A shot rang out, cutting short the exchange between the two women. And the said Mary collapsed on the ground under the desperate cries of Vince and the murderous glance of Janson. While looking at this scene with teary eyes, Thomas understood what he had to do. At this thought his breathing became more panting and the tension in his muscles more oppressive. He waited for the WICKED to begin boarding them before pulling out a bomb and threatening to detonate it.

-Everyone stand back, Janson ordered his soldiers, his stress mounting. Hold your fire !

-Let them all go, Thomas shouted as Rat Man tried to talk him down.

Janson, Ava, and even Teresa all began to talk to him to make him listen to reason, not realizing that they were only reassuring him of his decision. Moreover, the gladers, at first overwhelmed by the events, began to understand why their friend was doing this and it was resigned that Minho came to Thomas' side and nodded to show his support. He was followed closely by Frypan, Newt and Y/N who hold hands with the blond man.

-We're with you, Thomas, said the latter, taking his girlfriend in his arms for a last embrace.

-Do it Thomas, added the asian to cover the protests of Teresa and Ava.

-We are ready, made Fry by holding the shoulder of the brown.

-It's the end, finished Y/N by pressing a little more strongly the blond in her arms.

After a last glance towards his friends Thomas turned to Teresa.

-We're not going back there, he declared while shaking before preparing to release the bomb. It's the only way.

Suddenly, as Ava Paige's scream resonated as if to prevent the explosion, a horn went off, stopping Thomas in his tracks. It was Jorge who drove like a madman into one of the WICKED helicopters, leaving the members of the Right Arm the opportunity to disperse and defend themselves.

-Are you all right ? asked Newt, concerned about the well-being of his beloved.

For all answer Y/N nodded her head before joining the others and suddenly getting down on the ground while Thomas had just thrown the bomb on the members of the inter-governmental organization. As they got up, they went in search of weapons to fight with. Brenda was defending them from the top of the cliffs like a sniper. She had managed to hit Janson in the shoulder, which made Y/N smile and find a gun. Hope made her heart beat again and gave her enough adrenaline to fight.

As for Vince, he went back to his machine gun, shooting at the WICKED soldiers and at the same time quenching his thirst for revenge for Marie's death. It was total chaos. The gladers were running for cover, covered by Minho and Y/N who were the only two of the group to have acquired weapons. They found some debris to hide behind about hundred meters away.

-Keep going, the asian shouted. We got you !

-Be careful ! Newt asked worriedly as they ran to their hiding place.

-Don't worry about us, the girl tried to reassure him.

Thomas suddenly arrived running, he passed behind his two friends to join the others. It was the last one they could retreat. Y/N then began to run towards her friends when she realized that the asian did not follow her.

-Minho, what are you doing ? she shouted to him already six meters away from him.

-Go ahead, go ahead, he replied, shooting at a soldier. I'll catch up with you !

She continued her race trusting her best friend when she saw him taking an electrifying ball of the WICKED and falling on the ground shaking of spasms. She shouted his name and asked him to get up and join her. She heard her friends in the distance doing the same but the former keeper of the runners was close to sink in the unconsciousness. She then turned her gaze to her friends in the distance and then to Mihno who was beginning to be carried away. One last time she looked into Newt's chocolate eyes and mouthed a final "I love you" as he understood her intention and shouted at her to stop. It was too late, she had made her decision, we don't abandon our friends. She then faced the asian and started to run towards him as fast as she could. She could feel her heart racing as she shot at the two guards holding her friend. Once she reached him she let out a sigh of relief and with great effort and a few more drops of sweat she managed to lift Minho off the ground. She then looked up at her friends' hiding place and began to sprint. However, as she saw the hopeful looks on her friends' and Newt's faces, she felt an excruciating sting in her back and electricity paralyzing her. She then fell on the sand and dust while letting out a cry of agony which was replaced very quickly by the cry of despair of her favorite blond boy.

The latter seeing the girl he loved being taken away by the WICKED wanted to intervene but his friends understanding that it was over held him back with tears in their eyes and their hearts in pieces. And it was under their desperate looks that the berg enclosing their friends started to fly away while Janson threw them a last triumphant smile while holding firmly the unconscious body of Y/N in his arms.

-Bastards, Newt shouted, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You bastards ! Bring them back ! Come back ! Give her back to me !

Thomas went over to him to put his hand on his shoulder, but as surprising as it may seem, the blond threw himself into his arms and cried against his shoulder. Usually the second in command kept everything to himself and did not share his sorrows. He never expressed his sadness, but this was too much for him to bear. When Y/N had arrived in the block just after his suicide attempt, she had been a breath of fresh air for him. She had been his little dose of hope and he needed her. He couldn't lose her.

-Tommy, he said in a firm voice, looking into Thomas' wet eyes. Promise me we'll get them back.

-I promise, Newt.

Masterlist

#newt x reader #newt x y/n #newt imagine #newt x oc #tmr newt #newt #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #the maze runner imagine

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