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juniperstale · 1 month

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THINK I LIKE YOU BEST WHEN YOU'RE JUST WITH ME

⋆ jealousy they feel even though you're not dating ⋆ ashlyn, aiden, taylor x gn!reader ⋆ [sfw] little angsty but fluff at the end, jealousy, aiden calls reader a bbg as a joke but im still considering this gn, reader is described as attractive (ashlyn), reader is described as pretty (aiden), cursing, taylor is very ooc

ASHLYN is someone who is very in tune with her emotions. she's very well connected with herself and knows immediately when she likes you. that doesn't mean she'll tell you though. as the leader, she believes it to be her job to keep the entire group safe and that means not getting into a relationship with you as to focus on the major problem at hand. unfortunately, that doesn't stop her from getting dejected at the sight of you being flirted with.

you are attractive, everyone can agree on that. and you are not hers, that is a plain fact. yes, you two flirt sometimes, but that doesn't matter because she immediately stops and walks away when she feels things are getting too real. it's only to protect you, after all. maybe, after this was all done and over with, you two could be happy, together, in a relationship, as a couple.

her eyebrows furrow as she watches the scene in front of her unfold. she was clearly disgusted, her already mean rbf becoming ten times worse.

"okay well your shirt just looks really nice!" the stranger complimented as you looked down at her, a warm smile resting on your face. ashlyn was beside you the entire time, her arms crossed as she glared at the stranger. "thank you, thank you! well, it was nice to meet you-" you were tryng to end the conversation as quickly as you could so you could get back to hanging out with ashlyn who you could tell was frustrated. "ah! wait before you go could i have your instagram? number even?" the question caught you off guard but before you could respond ashlyn did so for you. her heart burned at such a question, even though you weren't hers, she was used to people just assuming you two were in a relationship when you were together and backing off of you. she was frustrated, no furious, that someone dared to make a move on you, her face contorting from her rbf to a scowl. "no." she replied for you, coldly, grabbing your hand and turning around as she sped off with you.

once you were at a far enough location, you were quick to question her. "what was that about ash?" you asked sincerely as you sat next to her on the bench, watching passerby's go about their lives. "you know what it was about." she responded quickly, avoiding eye contact as you let out a sigh. "i don't get it, if you like me you'd ask me out like the others, no?" you questioned again as she turned to look at you. "if you want to be in a relationship just say yes to 'the others,' no?" she questioned back as it became your turn to avoid her gaze. you stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a small, "i only want you though." with her super human hearing, she obviously heard you clearly, the tips of her ears turning a pretty shade of pink as she looks down at her feet, than back up at you, a sudden boost of confidence taking over her as her hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

"trust me, the moment i can, i will."

if there is one word to describe AIDEN, it would not be quitter. from the moment he laid his eyes on you, you were his; to him and everyone around the two of you. he courted you relentlessly, flirting with you, buying you expensive gifts, dropping you off to your classes, picking you up. honestly people at your school eventually just assumed that it was no longer courting but that you were actually in an official relationship. and aiden was happy with that assumption, it only bothered him that strangers didn't also think so.

going to the nearest gas station, you and aiden decided to pick up snacks for yourselves and the rest of the group as an apology for being late. while at the cash register, you couldn't help but notice the nervous worker looking at you up at down as you took the items out your basket for him to scan. "is something the matter?" you ask him, to which he only blushes and shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with you while scanning all the snacks you were purchasing. you look down to grab your wallet which aiden stops you from doing by grabbing your arm, giving you a wink while whispering a joking "i gotchu, don't worry my baby girl." you only hit him back, a small laugh escaping you lips as you shake your head no before making eye contact with the cashier once more.

"you're so pretty." your eyes widen as aidens head practically shoots up to glare at the poor cahier whose thoughts accidently fell out of his mouth as words. "excuse you?" aiden questions as he swipes his card. "oh im so sorry! i didn't mean to say that!" he fumbles nervously, confirming aidens payment and grabbing bags as he clumsily places the snacks in. "it's totally fine! don't worry about it," you can't help but giggle at his behavior, watching the cashiers eyes grow even wider and blush get darker as he hands aiden the bags, wishing you a good rest of your day. you (and aiden) feel his eyes on you, watching you exit the store as you turn slightly, raising your hand to send him a goodbye wave but aiden grabs your hand before you can, effectively dragging you out of the store and to ashlyns place.

the walk was quiet and the atmosphere between the two of you were thick once you were reunited with the rest of the group. you all worked on your project a bit and argued over what the best next move to make would be before deciding to go to sleep. to your surprise, aiden still took his spot next to you as the entire group fell into a short slumber. unfortunately for you, the events of the day were still playing in your mind, causing you to fall in and out of a state of drowsiness. it didn't help that you could also feel aiden shifting next to you as well before he finally gave up on trying to avoid holding you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his neck.

"once we survive this night, we're gonna have to talk about making us official because if one more person tries to flirt with you, im going to lose my mind."

TAYLOR is not one to be jealous. no matter what you're relationship with her may be, she is calm and collected and knows how to express her feeling in a healthy way. that's why it was so shocking for her to walk in on you kissing a girl she'd never seen before, someone you'd never told her about. she felt her heart shatter into a billion pieces as her eyes welled with tears. she didn't know why, the two of you weren't even in a relationship so she had no right to feel this way, right? right.

she made her way into an empty classroom, sitting down at one of the desks and laying her head into her arms as she sighed, remembering the moment once again. it was weird, her heart stung at the thought of it, it almost made her nauseous.

she only lifted her head when she heard the door open, prepared to apologize to some teacher about being in their classroom without permission. to her surprise it was you.

"hey can we talk?" you ask as you make your way over to taylor who shakily nods her head with a quiet yes. you sit yourself on top of the table her head was previously laying on, "im so sorry taylor, i didn't mean for you to see tha-" shes quick to interrupt you, placing her hands on yours. "no! its totally fine, we're teens of course your going to be kissing people." she states before looking down at the table once again. "it's just a little confusing." she says. "what is?" you ask, not understanding what she was getting it. "well, when i saw you kissing that girl it kind of hurt. like my stomach started churning and i got dizzy. then there was this feeling in my heart- hey why are you laughing!" she asks, genuienly confused at your sudden burst of laughter. "im sorry, sorry! it just seems like you got jealous because you have a little crush on me." you're quick to apologize and respond, bringing your face close to hers as she blushes, subconsciously leaning in before your lips finally touched. when you finally pulled away, out of breath, she continued tug your shirt wanting more, something that seemed very out of her character for her.

"im gonna keep kissing you until the lipstick from her lips is replaced with mine."

4.14.24 ⋆ NOT PROOFREAD! bro taylors is so out of character towards the end wtf happened omg. anyways part 2 with tyler, logan and ben will be out soon. also its my first time writing for something that isn't bsd so lets see how this goes!

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ junis tales #school bus graveyard #sbg #sbg (webtoon)#ashlyn banner #ashlyn sbg #aiden clark #aiden sbg #taylor hernandez #taylor sbg #sbg x reader #sbg x gender neutral reader #sbg x male reader #school bus graveyard x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader

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serverusslaype · 7 months

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The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips.

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it.

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility."

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

"No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly.

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

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multifandomwhore-003 · 8 months

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Random Hazel Callahan headcanons that have been rotting my brain for the past couple of days:

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x female! reader

Summary: Not needed

Genre(s): a little angsty at first, after that's it's just pure fluff

Warnings: mentions of trauma and maladaptive daydreaming

A/N: I'M GONNA WRITE MORE FOR HER BECAUSE I NEED IT SO STAY TUNED, also I listened to False God by Taylor Swift the entire time I wrote this.

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk , join tag list here

• She has horrible listening skills, usually her house has been a pretty noisy and chaotic place, even before her parents divorced, so she's learned to mute the outside world.

• It tends to annoy pretty much everyone else outside the fight club, the only exception being PJ, she perhaps got annoyed more than anyone.

• When you first noticed you had to repeat yourself at least five times whenever she was around, you tried to come up with different ways for her to keep up, like texting her as you spoke so she could read it as much as she needed to.

• Later on you found out it wasn't just about losing track of a conversation, as you asked to borrow one of her headphones one time, you were shocked her ears weren't bleeding right then and there.

"Fucking hell, Hazel! Are you trying to break your ears or something?" your ears hurt for a second.

"It's not loud at all" She placed them on her neck.

"Baby, I can hear the music coming out of those things like a concert speaker,"

• You decided to invite her over to your house as often as possible, demanding a no-headphones rule.

"Why not?!" she complained.

"Because you're gonna be completely deaf at the age of 40!"

"And you'll be there to teach me sign language, right?" she hugged your waist.

"You're saying you prefer not hearing my voice for the rest of our lives?" you lifted a brow.

• The realazation dawned on her.

• To this day she hasn't worn headphones a single day in her life.

• Maladaptive daydreaming is also something she struggles with, not as much now as she used to in middle school and the first two years of high school, but it still happens sometimes.

• You found out when you decided to surprise her by coming to her house one day

• Mrs. Callahan said she couldn't get in contact with Hazel, for whatever reason.

• Most likely her phone turned off since it was out of battery.

• So she texted you she was gonna be missing all night, permitted you to stay the night, and told you to take care of Hazel.

• You found her in the kitchen yelling, it sounded as if she was yelling at someone.

"Are you ever gonna choose me over a booty call?! How is it that Jeff's dick is more important than me?! Your daughter! You fucking pushed me out and you still can't even ask me how my grades are doing and shit!"

• Your first thought was —Her mom's plans must've been canceled—

• As you approached the room as quietly as possible, you looked through the rim of the entrance, there was no one.

"Hazel," you spoke quietly through her screams.

A shiver went down her spine, he face turned white, she blinked a couple of times before turnind her head, "How much of that did you hear?" she avoided your eyes.

"I've never heard you like that," was all you could mutter as you approached her slowly and then embraced her in a hug, "I know you're not insane by the way," you whispered in her hair.

She began to cry.

• She didn't want to talk about it for the next few days

• When she did, she stumbled upon her words, talked too fast, and teared up every once in a sentence.

"Call me first," you cupped her face, "I'll never judge you for whatever you have to say,"

• She wanted to kiss you right then and there, but just rested her forehead on yours, an act of ultimate intimacy.

• I could get into the divorced parents' trauma for hours because same

• But for now I'll move on to the happy part

• Physical touch is the absolute most pure form of love she can give

• If she's not hugging your waist at all times, she's holding your hand, resting her head on your chest, shoulders, legs, etc. pretty much everywhere she can

• If you have long or medium hair she'll attempt to braid your hair, keyword attempt

• If you have short hair she'll buy little elastic ponytails to tie them around your head everywhere she can

• Her reasoning behind this is that her favorite plants are cactuses

• That's it, that's all the reasons she needs

• If you happen to be bald she'll rub your head while singing the chorus to Diamonds by Rihanna

• She plays ukelele

• She knows how to make a few origami figures and if she tries a new one, as crumbled and sweaty as it is she gives it to you

• You have a whole shelf in your room dedicated to every piece of folded paper she's ever done for you

• If you're more of a fem! girl, she'll try something of yours whenever she comes over and stare at her reflection for hours

"Good thing, god didn't make me straight, she knew I would be a menace,"

• You can only roll your eyes and laugh at her twirling and pretending to dance ballet in your dresses and skirts

• If she happens to go shopping without you, she'll try something you'll like and send you the photo after

"If it looks this good on me, imagine how AMAZING it'll look on you,"

• She once asked you to put makeup on her, she'll say she was just curious how she'd look

• She wasn't lying, but she also didn't mention she just wanted to recreate this picture:

• If you happen to be more of a masc! girl, you'll trade clothes as often as you can think

• More than once you have arrived at school with something she likes and just drags you to the bathroom to for you to make the exchange

• It's not her clothes and your clothes anymore, everything you own is hers and vice versa

• More often than not you're no longer sure what used to be only yours

• This goes for accessories and shoes as well, even if they don't fit her, she'll fill them up with toilet paper until they fit just fine

• You'll match AT LEAST once a week, as per her request of course

• She tries all kinds of chips (or crisps for my British luvs) she has tried every flavor and seasoning, but her favorites and the flaming hot ones, even if she ends up chugging your waterbottle after finishing the bag

• Although her parents are rich and taught her from a young age to be a precise wine taster, she's a tequila and vodka girl

• She hates gloomy and rainy days because they bring down her mood, but spending the day binge-watching cheesy movies and stuffing her stomach with all the snacks o her house makes it up

• She's ABSOLUTE SHIT at Karaoke, but my god does she have the spirit

• Her go-to song is Lies by Fleetwood Mac, but if she's drunk enough to gain confidence she'll request Easy On Me by Adele

• If she insists for long enough and you decide to sing with her, she 100% will try to recreate the following musical numbers:

• Lay all you love on me -Mamma Mia

• Every duet there is in Teen Beach Movie, her favorite childhood movie

• The cellblock tango -Chicago and Ex-Wives -from Six, if the rest of the fight club joins as well

• Popular from Wicked, strangely enough, she's Glinda

• Seventeen -Heathers

• Candy Store -Heathers featuring Isabel as Heather Mc Namara, Josie as Martha Dunnstock, and PJ as Veronica (She was heavily forced to after Brittany suggested it)

• Smooth Criminal -The Glee cast cover

• If you're a good singer, or at least a decent one, at the end of the song she'll hype you up more than anyone in the crowd, even carry you (this also applies to my plus size! lovelies, DON'T YOU WORRY, she has muscles)

• If you're a bad singer, then you'll be shit together, the worse your voices sound, the better you'll enjoy it

• Onto the kissing and overall more stereotypical relationship stuff, aka the not-so-comfortable part of my asexual-spectrum girlies.

• As previously shown in the original material

• Kissing is slow and passionate, she likes to enjoy your lips as much as possible, taking in every movement, taste, and breath

• Hands on your jaw and neck EVERY FUCKING TIME

• The first few times you offered her some chapstick or lipstick, or lipgloss, or lip oil, or anything, she would kiss you making you chuckle in surprise

• Now you don't even need to ask, she'll just be like

"Hey, your lips look beautiful," and peck you on the lips

• If you're alone it definitely turns into a whole makeout session

• She just claims it tastes too good not to do it

• Every once in a while she'll hug you from behind and aggressively kiss your cheek

• Good luck kisses before every test

• Her favorite kind of dates are picnic dates

• She takes pictures of the sky whenever she feels it matches your vibe

• She takes A LOT of pictures of you ANYTIME, ANYWHERE, she even went as far as to buy a film camera because they make everything more magical

• She reads A LOT

• She obviously knows too much about social injustices and everything regarding that realm, but she likes other things as well

• Avid fantasy reader, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES,

• Going back to this need for escapism, she was heavily raised by George R.R. Martin and Leigh Bardugo

• Definitely screamed, jumped, and overall looked like she was in a sugar rush when both Game of Thrones and Shadow and Bone came out

• She wasn't exactly allowed to watch Game of Thrones at the time it came out, so she watched when she was 16 instead

• Shadow and Bone, however, oh boy, it was whole event

• She cosplayed Sturmhond and made you cosplay as Zoya

That's it for now children, if I come up with anything else I'll do a part two or even better write something more complete

#hazel callahan bottoms movie #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan angst

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helloalycia · 6 months

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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: with everything left in limbo between you and Lucy Gray, there's no chance to talk about it because reaping day is finally upon you.

warning/s: usual warnings that come with the Hunger Games, such as death and violence and all that jazz. Also cheating, again.

author's note: and this is the final part! it was a fun one to write so i hope you all enjoyed it! kinda have an idea for another lucy gray one but whether it’s fully thought out is another thing, so stay tuned! 😂

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

As if things weren't bad enough lately, the Hunger Games reaping day was finally upon us. Every year I tried so hard to forget it existed, knowing the results would be inevitable and I should just make the most of my life without worrying about it, and every year I found myself growing scared the few days leading up to it, mainly because it meant it was one year closer to Y/S/N being old enough to have her name in the mix.

My parents, Y/S/N and I were approaching the square where the reaping took place, neither of us saying a word, but I could see their fear in their eyes. Y/S/N was holding my hand, trembling slightly, and I hated that there was nothing I could do to put her at ease.

My eyes raked over the residents of District 12, all getting in line as the peacekeepers kept guard, and then Y/S/N tugged at my hand, making me look down at her with concern. She nodded to the left of me, where the Covey were getting ready to line up. Barb Azure was the eldest at nineteen, so gave them all a big squeeze with Maude Ivory before leaving them to go. I caught her gaze and she gave me a sad smile, nodding reassuringly, and I did the same. Maude Ivory seemed to spot Y/S/N and lifted her hand in a slow wave. I noticed the only person who was missing from their group was Lucy Gray. Where was she?

"Why don't you go stand with Maude Ivory?" I encouraged Y/S/N with my best attempt at a smile. "Her and Barb Azure are probably lonely."

Y/S/N glanced at our parents, who seemed to understand what I was doing and nodded with approval.

"Good luck, Y/N," Y/S/N mumbled as she hugged me tightly once more, and I almost didn't let go.

After she ran to join the others, I gave both my parents a final hug, pretending I couldn't notice the tears in their eyes, and watched as they joined the rest of the crowd at the back, made up of those either too young or too old to take part.

As I turned to find my place in line, Lucy Gray suddenly appeared, startling me. I hadn't seen her since a few days ago when she kissed me, and it had ended so awkwardly that I still wasn't sure what to think. But right now, it was the last thing on my mind.

"Just wanted to see you before it starts," she said kindly, and my heart warmed at her words.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, noticing the frown on her lips, and it looked like something more than just everyone's usual fear of the Games.

She sighed, looking down at her fumbling hands, before avoiding the question and instead saying, "I'm sorry about the other day, Y/N. I really am."

I lifted my brows slightly, not expecting her to bring it up, especially not now.

"Thanks for everything," she continued, a tight smile on her lips. "For being there for me."

"What?" I asked, because she wasn't making any sense. "Lucy Gray, I–"

She hugged me suddenly, arms wrapping around my shoulders briefly, but long enough for me to smell the spritz of an old floral perfume on her neck and make my head go cloudy. Leaning back, she kissed my cheek before I could react, and gave me a knowing look as my skin warmed where her lips just were.

"Remember to stay away from Billy Taupe and Mayfair," she reminded me sternly. "You promised, remember?"

I furrowed my brows, searching her eyes for some sort of explanation to why she was acting so strangely. "Lucy Gray–"

"In line, both of you, now," a peacekeeper interrupted, pushing between us and shoving me slightly to the others.

I tried to look at Lucy Gray once more, but she offered me a slight smile before joining her line. I told myself I'd have to talk to her afterwards, but then as the reaping took place, I realised why she'd been so confusing.

She was to represent District Twelve in the Hunger Games.

I could hardly believe it, not when the mayor called her name out on the stage, not when she threw a snake down Mayfair's dress, not when she sang her song of defiance, and not when they whisked her away, never to be seen again.

She knew she was going to be chosen. I wasn't sure how, but she'd figured it out, already prepared to go out with a bang, in typical Lucy Gray fashion.

It wasn't fair. All because Mayfair held a pathetic grudge, she'd made sure Lucy Gray paid the price – it had to be that, otherwise what was the need for the snake? And now I was never going to see her again. After everything, I couldn't talk to her, hear her voice, see her pretty little smile, ever again.

Why?

I was hurting, still in disbelief but knowing the Covey were even worse for wear, definitely unable to accept that their sister was truly gone. Unfortunately, I had to work that evening, but the Covey weren't performing tonight. There was nothing to celebrate, and even the Hob itself was emptier than usual, nobody quite in the mood to remember the stolen life of another.

Instead, the Covey were sat at a table in the corner, saying nothing and looking distraught. I wasn't sure what to do to make them feel better because how could they? All I knew how to do was be a waitress, so Miles let me bring them some fruity, non-alcoholic drinks on the house, a rarity and a treat, but one they definitely needed right now.

"Hey, guys," I said, tray in hand as I approached their table. Setting it down, I began to share out the drinks one by one.

"We can't afford that," Barb Azure mumbled, and neither of them touched it.

"It's my treat," I said sympathetically. "Thought it might make you feel a bit better."

"How are we supposed to feel better when she's gone?!" Maude Ivory snapped in a broken voice, before jumping off her seat and walking away.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling stupid as I looked to the others. "Sorry, I– she's right. I didn't mean it like–"

"Don't, it's okay," Tam Amber cut me off with an apologetic glance. "We're just missin' her. It's hit Maude Ivory hard."

I pressed my lips together, nodding sadly.

"Thanks, Y/N, we appreciate it," Barb Azure added, offering a small smile, before taking a sip.

"If you need anything, just let me know," I told them earnestly. "I'll be here for you."

They nodded, and I reluctantly left them to it, knowing they probably wanted some space.

There had never been a winner from District 12, and I hated that that's all I kept thinking as I thought about Lucy Gray in the Games. She could still win, there was a chance she could, but she was a performer, not a fighter. Her chances were slim. There, but slim.

We couldn't watch the Games, the Covey and I – nobody in District 12 could. The reception was simply terrible, no matter how hard we tried to tune in. There was one evening however, when Y/S/N and I were at the Covey's home. We'd been visiting them often the past few days, both to cheer Y/S/N up and to simply be there for them, but this night was different. Tam Amber had been able to get some signal on their small TV, using a lot of tinfoil and taking advantage of the clear night.

"It's on! It's on!" Maude Ivory shouted, pointing at the screen. "Don't move!"

Tam Amber held his position on the antenna, tilting his head to get a good look at the screen. Clerk Carmine turned up the volume and I wasn't sure what we were watching at first, unfamiliar with the Hunger Games as we rarely had access to it. And then I noticed the expensive clothing, the bright lights, the witty presenter – it was in the Capitol. Some sort of interviews were taking place between the tributes. A girl from District 11 was finishing up her interview and we all watched with slight amazement, rarely seeing anything like it.

A spotlight shone onstage and the audience fell quiet. It was quiet, before the familiar sound of a guitar strumming sounded, and to everyone's disbelief, Lucy Gray walked out into the centre of the stage.

"Lucy Gray!" everyone said with realisation.

It was her! It was really her! Only a few days had passed since she'd been stolen away, but it felt like forever without her energetic presence alongside us. My heart was beating exceptionally fast as I studied her. She was wearing the same dress she wore on reaping day, but it looked as if it had been cleaned, ironed and made brighter – a white dress with vibrant rainbow ruffles at the bottom, only the brightest for someone who loved colour. Her lips were painted red, eyes dusted blue, and she looked as well as could be, though a little slimmer. I wondered if they were feeding her, concerned it could hinder her in the Games.

Her voice started soft, gradually growing strong as she sung about herself and a mystery lover, whom everyone soon realised was Billy Taupe. And as she finished her hauntingly beautiful song – "Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping. Now what will you do when I go to my grave?" – we realised she'd only confirmed our suspicions of it being because of him and Mayfair that Lucy Gray was chosen as a tribute.

"It's their fault," Clerk Carmine said what everyone was thinking, upset as it dawned on him what kind of brother he had. "He let this happen."

Y/S/N wrapped an arm around his shoulder comfortingly as we all watched the screen, the cutaways to the audience cheering after her performance. And then as we were all savouring the sight of Lucy Gray for a little longer, the signal cut out.

"Sorry," Tam Amber said with a sigh, stopping his stretching and sighing. "It's not gonna work."

"It's fine, thank you," Barb Azure told him.

Nobody spoke for a moment, the sound of the static the only thing to fill the room. If it was interviews today, then the Hunger Games would officially begin tomorrow.

She'd be fighting for her life tomorrow, and there was nothing we could do about it.

The Games ended yesterday, that's what rumours around town were saying, but nobody knew for sure since nobody could watch them, and so nobody knew who'd won either. I was trying not to think about it, unsure whether to believe it they'd truly ended or not. For all I knew, they could have still been going on, or they could have ended days ago. Either way, the last thing I wanted to imagine was Lucy Gray battered or bloodied or bruised.

Instead, I tried to distract myself with the job at hand – working. In particular, throwing some old beer crates out back in the bins as Miles had asked me to. I was on the third one, carrying it from the backdoor of the Hob and to the bins next to it when I felt someone's presence behind me. Curious, I turned around and my jaw dropped, the crate almost slipping from my grasp.

It was Lucy Gray.

"Hey, darlin', what's with the long face?" she asked, tilting her head and smiling playfully.

I blinked, certain I was imagining this – it wouldn't have been the first time she'd infiltrated my dreams. But when she didn't disappear, I found my voice.

"You're back," I said hesitantly, afraid I'd be mistaken. "You're here. You're– how? How are you here?"

"Why, I won the Hunger Games, of course," she said like it was nothing, an easy accomplishment, which we both knew it wasn't. "Turns out I wasn't finished here after all."

Her statement was so insane that I couldn't help but let out a quiet snicker, tears filling my eyes when I accepted that she was finally home. She'd done the impossible – she'd won.

Setting down the crate, I swallowed the lump in my throat before approaching her suddenly, pulling her in for a hug. She was here, she was real, she was home.

Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly, head tucking into my shoulder and curly brown hair blinding me. Every part of me was ignited by her touch, unable to believe she was actually here.

I wanted to say so much to her, and yet nothing came to mind because I was too overwhelmed with her presence, my senses invaded by her scent, her warmth, her touch. Just when I tried to pull back to truly look at her, she pulled me closer, tighter, and I couldn't do anything other than let her embrace me a little longer.

After a moment, I pulled back, eyes scanning her worriedly. She looked a little tired, circles under her eyes covered by makeup, and her hands were tougher than usual – I felt them through my shirt – no doubt a result of what she'd endured in the arena. But she was alive, and that was all I could have asked for.

"When?" I asked, voice embarrassingly thick with emotion. "When did you get back?"

"Midday," she answered, brown eyes bright as they flickered between mine with focus. "I went straight home after they sent me here on a train. Reunited with the family. Counted my lucky stars."

I smiled a little, still in disbelief, and hung onto her every word.

"Then I wanted to come 'n' see you," she continued lightheartedly, though there was some truth to it. "See if you'd forgotten about me."

I began to laugh, wiping away my stray tears. "I could never, Lucy Gray. Nobody could."

She smiled appreciatively, before looking down at her hands, long eyelashes casting a shadow across her face as she blinked. I could have watched her for a while, merely existing, glad that she was back, but she needed more than just another admirer right now.

"I won't ask you what it was like over there," I said gently, making her look up again. "I can imagine you don't wanna talk about it. But if you do, well... I'm here."

She exhaled through her nose, smile widening. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

I didn't know what to say, suddenly embarassed under her stare, and she chuckled at my reaction.

Clearing my throat, I changed the subject and pointed over my shoulder to the Hob. "Are you staying tonight?"

Her eyes flickered over to it, lighting up excitedly. "I might perform a few songs, why not?"

At this, I suppressed the urge to smile and admitted, "That would be nice. I missed hearing your voice. I– I missed you."

Her eyes fell back to mine, smile faltering a moment. "Even after how we left things?"

Our last encounter before the reaping came to mind, and I nodded honestly. "Especially after that."

She hummed, smile fading completely, and I wondered if she was thinking about it too.

"I've been so worried," I admitted, my heart beating a little quicker in my chest with each word I spoke. "We all have. But the TVs didn't work and the peacekeepers wouldn't tell us anything."

"I didn't mean to worry you," she said sweetly, taking my hand and squeezing it. "The Covey said you and Y/S/N checked in with them whilst I was gone. You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," I said, placing my other hand on hers and taking it between mine.

She glanced at her hand, making me realise I was still holding it, and I let go gently.

"I should go home and get ready," she said with a nod. "But I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

"Can't wait."

Her smile widened and she turned to leave, my eyes unable to look away from her retreating figure for fear she'd only be a dream.

As promised though, she returned to the Hob a few hours later, and by then, word had spread fast about her victory and return. The Hob was bustling with people, all unable to believe Lucy Gray was finally back. Even Mayfair and Billy Taupe were there, mainly in disbelief that she'd survived, but I tried not to focus on them since they didn't matter anymore. They couldn't do a thing anymore.

The Covey hadn't performed since Lucy Gray left, so everyone was in for a real treat when they kicked off with her introduction. Spirits were high, drinks were flowing and I couldn't have been happier than when I saw Lucy Gray back onstage, where she belonged.

We'd left things in a strange place, but it all seemed so futile now. My heart was full of adoration for the Covey girl, and maybe it was time I just started listening to it instead of overcomplicating everything.

It was a long evening, and by the time I'd finally finished cleaning up with Miles, we both left and waved goodbye to one another, my feet hurting from standing on them for so long. Only, as I was about to start my walk back to the Seam, I spotted Lucy Gray waiting outside, startling me.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said between a laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Hand to my chest as I regained composure, I said, "No, it's fine. It's... what are you still doing here? It's been half an hour."

When her and the Covey had finished performing for the evening, it had been too busy for me to spare a moment to say goodbye to them, so I'd just assumed Lucy Gray had gone home with them.

"I was waiting for you," she said simply, and I instantly felt bad.

"If I'd known, I would have hurried," I said, stepping towards her.

"It's okay, I didn't want you to rush," she assured me, before shrugging. "I missed you. It's been too long and I just wanted to walk you home."

My expression softened at her words, a warmth spreading in my chest. "You don't need to," I told her.

"I want to."

I pressed my lips together, exhaling quietly, before nodding and readjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. She flashed me a stunning smile before joining my side and leading the way.

"You did great tonight," I said to her, glancing over and trying to ignore the flutter in my chest at her profile. "Your songs, your spirit – everything."

Her smile grew. "Thank you, that means a lot. I guess I just really missed performin'. It's not the same as singin' for the Capitol."

"Tam Amber managed to get signal one night," I said without thinking. "The night of the interviews. We just about caught yours. Your song."

She sighed, her smile fading into more of a grimace as she remembered, and I felt bad for bringing it up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to remind you," I quickly said, frowning. "I– never mind that."

"It's not so easy bein' back after everything," she admitted, looking to me, before stopping walking all of a sudden, I stopped too, and then she continued, "but I've realised a lot of things."

I furrowed my brows slightly. "Like what?"

She clenched her jaw, before her dark eyes met mine with conviction. "I didn't kiss you because you were Billy Taupe's replacement."

Surprised she'd bought it up, I asked, "What?"

She didn't dare look away as she answered, "Back before the reaping. When I kissed you at the bonfire. It– it wasn't me confusin' my feelings or usin' you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

I wasn't sure what to say at first, unable to make sense of what she was admitting. Because if that was the case, then that meant she liked me, and how could that be?

"It's okay," I said slowly, heart rate beginning to speed up as she held my gaze. "It's history now."

"I don't want it to be," she said desperately. "I missed you so much, Y/S/N. I was there and– and all I was thinkin' about was the Covey, your sister and you. All of you, and how I had to get back to you all." She swallowed hard, stepping closer. "With you, I need to clear the air. Because after everything, I've learnt that life is too short and too tender to let things slip by. And I've fallen for you, Y/N. Deeply. And you just– you need to know that that's why I kissed you. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

Frozen in place, I hoped she couldn't hear my heart hammering in my chest, or feel the shivers on my skin from the warmth emanating from hers. She was stood so close, enough for me to make out the tears pooling in her eyes, and I didn't know what to do. This whole time, she liked me. I wasn't a fool for thinking so – Billy Taupe had been wrong. All this time, I'd had a chance and it was almost ruined because of my own stupidity and insecurities.

"What are you thinkin'?" she asked between a halfhearted chuckle, a tear slipping from her eyes. "You're stuck in your head again, darlin'."

"I'm sorry, I–"

"Don't be sorry," she said, taking a step back, and she'd misinterpreted where I was going with this.

"No, I mean, I–" I began, but the words were lost on my tongue, and the more she looked disappointed, the stupider I felt. "I didn't know, Lucy Gray. I didn't expect it. Billy Taupe, he–"

Another of her tears fell, and I groaned quietly to myself, shaking my head. Why would I have ever listened to him in the first place?

"I'm sorry," I repeated, meeting her gaze with the utmost sincerity and guilt. "I should have never listened to the likes of him."

It was her turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"I let him get in my head," I admitted, cheeks heating with embarrassment. "He convinced me that you were using me as a replacement for him. That you only liked me because–" I stopped myself, it sounding stupid when I said it aloud, especially to the girl in question. "It was stupid. You would never do such a thing, I should've never listened to him."

She frowned, trying to find my eyes, but I was too embarrassed to look at her. "That sounds like him. I'm sorry he did that."

"No, I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head and getting stuck in my own head again. "I ruined this, and then you left, and all I kept thinking about was how I let you go, and if you didn't come back then–" I paused, frowning to myself, before finally lifting my eyes to meet hers. "I've always liked you, Lucy Gray, but so does everyone else. And I didn't wanna be just another Lucy Gray admirer. But you saying this– meaning this– it's just– you're just– it– you can't–"

She began to smile, nodding. "I get it."

I stopped talking, flustered and embarrassed and unsure what else to say or do, because after so long, the girl I liked actually liked me back.

She stepped toward, hand lifting to my cheek and cupping it gently, and I practically held my breath as her glassy eyes met mine. Then, she looked down to my lips and leaned in, kissing me.

Unlike last time, I let myself enjoy it, closing my eyes and kissing her back. Her lips were soft, sweet like her lip balm, and fit perfectly against mine. This couldn't be real, she couldn't be real. After everything that happened, she was here and I was getting a second chance. How?

After a moment, we both pulled away for air, though she didn't let go of my face just yet, nor I with my hands on her waist. I opened my eyes, submerged in pools of brown, and forgot how to speak, lips tingling where hers just were.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she said quietly, thumb tracing my lips gently, and sending shivers all over my body. "I thought I ruined it, the last time. Lost you for good."

I shook my head. "I don't think you ever could, Lucy Gray."

A smile formed on her face, and then a laugh escaped her lips, and she looked at me once more, making me feel like the most important person in the world.

She kissed me again, and I wondered what I'd done to be so lucky.

#lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird imagine #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #rachel zegler

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viaviv124 · 4 months

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Bullfrog Character Study and why i feel so bad for him

Did you notice that Bullfrog does not cry at all until his execution? Not when Jade died, not when Pey'j died and, to our knowledge, not while he was in jail.

When Bullfrog talked with Rayman and mentioned Pey'j's death he sounded so bitter. Yeah he probably said it to hold a mirror in front of Rayman but also i feel like at first he didn't intent to say this, that this just slipped out and he then decided to roll with it. I do not know much about Assassins Creed but i do know that he had to embody the Brotherhood's ideology of freedom, peace and equality. To my knowledge to "peace and freedom" also counts "free of vengance/hatred/bitterness" and so on because these feelings do not make you free, hence why Bullfrog tried to stop both Dolph and Pey'j from acting in vengance (allthough with Pey'j it also was so the Warden doesn't detonate the bomb). And espacially because of the survivors guilt Bullfrog thinks he has to be the perfect assassin.

However, Assassins are just people too. People are flawed and cannot follow this perfectly. And Bullfrog was incredibly bitter. Probably not just bitter too, one can just imagine what he felt. He lost everything he cared about again. He failed again. Not to mention, i doubt he ever allowed himself to grief. And i feel like feeling that horde of emotions also lead to self loathing to a degree.

Bullfrog is supposed to embody the Brotherhood's ideology, hell, the entire brotherhood considering he's, to his and our knowledge, the only one left. He's not supposed to feel everything he's feeling right now, yet he does and it eats him up. The survivors guilt forces him to perfectionism. If he can't be the perfect assassin, then what is he? To him he's failing his ancestors and brothers, his fallen comrades, the ones he's fighting for, everyone.

And despite all of that he never once allowed himself to cry.

Except when he was convinced he was going to die.

Bullfrog cried during his final words as he apologized to Dolph for failing him. And i can promise you these tears weren't just because of the apology, no, in these few tears was at least a bit of everything that happend. Because he didn't have to stay strong anymore. He thought that's it. This is where he and the brotherhood will die. And he probably felt two main emotions in that moment. Hopelessness and relief. Hopelessness for very obvious reasons i doubt i need to elaborate, but relief? He didnt have that burden anymore. He thought he was going to die so that weight he's been carrying for who-knows how long would be off his shoulders. It's a very small price, but at least it's something.

Everything i've said so far is why a certain comic by @pitafish hits so hard to me. I won't show it here because i didn't ask for permission, but basically what happend is that Bullfrog and Ramon were lying in bed and Bullfrog had a breakdown so Ramon sang to him and hugged him to soothe and comfort him.

[Edit] i just got permission to link the comic so here you go

Bullfrog let himself cry. He let himself be vulnerable. He lets himself be an individual with his own thoughts and feelings instead of an extension/personification of the brotherhood. And most impressively, he did that in front of someone else. He let someone else soothe him, hold him, take the place of comfort he himself always took for others.

And that's what makes it hit so hard.

In conclusion, Bullfrog deserves a hug, a blankie, hot chocolate, to bawl his eyes out and some well-deserved rest.

#Do i have to get up in 5 hours? Yes. Do i care? No.#captain laserhawk #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #captain laserhawk blood dragon remix #clh #clh bullfrog #clhabdr

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masonmyluv · 7 months

Text

Part 1

A/N: I really hope you will all like this story. It’s my first pretty long story (it will have around 10 parts, so stay tuned ;) ) that I’m posting here. You can also find the story on my wattpad account (username: tmrxlover_writer).

Pictures are from Pinterest, the filter is Cinnamon on Polarr.

Warnings: none

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Another day at Uni after he just scored his first La Liga goal . He was buzzing, but had to be on time for classes. He was sure the whole university will congratulate him. Being famous was difficult when you just wanted to be a normal student.

"Our boy Fermin is back!"

You looked up from your notes to see Fermin being congratulated by the whole class. People hugging him, patting him on the back. "Thanks man" he kept saying, trying to make his way to his place. He just wanted the class to begin so everyone could leave him alone. "Hey" he said, sitting next to you. "Hi" you replied quietly. Being the shy nerdy girl was bad enough when you were sitting near the hot athletic guy. You asked yourself multiple times why did he choose to sit near you in the first year. There were a lot of empty places, but he chose the second row in the front, exactly near you. "Anything that I missed?" He asked, looking at your notes. He always admired your beautiful handwriting and how organised you were, so he knew where to choose to sit at your first class together. Surely not the guy with only a piece of paper and a pen, but rather the girl surrounded by books, coloured pencils and a cup of coffee. He didn't have the balls to ask you to get coffee in the morning, even though he wasn't drinking it, he would offer to come along with you.

"Erm...not really. We talked about more practical stuff. I made some notes if you want to take a picture or something" you offered shyly. You never ever gave your notes to anyone because they were just some lazy asses who didn't care about anything, but you were here to learn. You wanted to be a physiotherapist. They were here just to get a diploma. Not Fermin though. He was passionate about the subject, even though he missed a lot of classes because of his packed schedule. You were willing to help him because he showed interest. And appreciated your work too.

"Thanks. Actually I had an idea, I mean a proposal" he said. "I'm quite behind with everything, so I was wondering if you'd like to meet somewhere and help me catch up? It's okay if you don't want to" he said nervously. Why the heck was he nervous? He scored his first goal in freaking La Liga and was nervous talking to a girl he's seen almost every day in 3 years. You thought about his idea, you wanted to help him, but you weren't the person to meet up in random places to study. You liked the confined space of your room and desk, and maybe the library or the coffee shop, when you had to do computer work.

"I don't want to sound... uhh... like I'm inviting myself" he said blushing as if reading your mind. "But I can come to your place, if that's okay with you". "I... uhh" you rambled on, but the professor was already in class, ready to read one of his boring presentations for 2 hours. You barely paid attention to what he was saying, debating whether to accept Fermin's idea or not, while drawing random patterns on your copybook. Fermin noticed you zooming out so he scribbled something down on his own copybook. He nudged you so you could read what he wrote.

It's okay. It was just an idea :)

You shook your head, writing under his: we talk after the class.

For the rest of the class, you took notes, while Fermin tried paying attention, but his mind kept drifting off somewhere else. What if he overstepped with all this I-can-come-to-your-place-to-study thing and you would think he's weird? He face palmed himself for that, but you were his only hope to pass the exams this semester. The professor finally ended the class and you started packing your bag. Neither of you spoke until you were out of the class.

"Listen I—"

"It's okay if—"

You both stopped mid sentence and chuckled. "You first" he encouraged. "So, I think it's okay for you to come. I live alone anyway. Just tell me when it's okay with you". Fermin couldn't believe what he was hearing. You never ever invited someone over and he could respect that it was your safe place and he didn't want to intrude. "Are you sure it's okay?" He asked and you nodded. "Okay, let me see. Actually I'll text you the day before because I'll have some recovery trainings and I'll be free to come" he said. "I know it's difficult to put up with me" he chuckled nervously. "It's okay. It's not like I'm a party animal or anything" you said. "Okay... I'll let you know soon. Bye. And thank you" he said, climbing into his car. He thought of offering you a car ride, but maybe it was too much overstepping in one day, so he just waved at you and you waved back to him.

When you arrived home, you thought about this day. What the heck was today? Of course you gave him your notes pretty often, but him to come here to study? That was a whole new level.

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Hope you like it 🤍

Feedback is appreciated 😊

#fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez #fermin lopez marin #fermin lopez smut #football imagine

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lunas-side-anime-blog · 5 months

Text

aot veteran/104 corp icks bc im back on my bullshit

someone requested AOT veteran icks, they didn't specify nsfw or not so I did both and also added sasha connie and jean bc i luv them:) feel free to message/inbox with requests!

(levi, erwin, hange, jean, sasha and connie)

Levi

will visit ur place and organize things without you asking. he'd just be like "ur welcome, now your kitchen makes sense" and ur like sir, I don't know where anything is now??? also he'd def the type to proclaim he's better than you for only getting two hours of sleep when you got four. honestly so many icks come to mind for this one, imma limit it to those two for now (stay tuned lol)

nsfw: tries to be rough with you but forgets his own strength. will try to throw you on the bed, but he does it too hard so you completely miss the bed and fall on the other side of it and he's just standing there like "🧍🏻...my bad."

Erwin

you cannot convince me this man doesn't wear water shoes at the pool. you guys say you want a dilf until you actually get one bc this is the type of shit it entails^^

nsfw: erwin cannot dirty talk for shit. im srry but if you're a lil kinky this isn't the man for you. try to call him daddy and he'd be like "we don't have kids?" and you explain the kink to him and he'd just say, "have you considered therapy?🤨" now he's concerned, boner gone, you feel called out, just go to sleep tbh

Hange

they're def a firm believer in natural deodorant and won't take the graceful hints that it's not working. prob wouldn't chill w them on a hot day is all i'm saying

nsfw: feel like they'd be really good in bed tbh like i'm struggling to think of an ick. hange has big dick energy, weirdos just do it better idk. i think maybe hange would try to spit in your mouth (they a freak) and they have so much and its thick and globby like the back of the throat type spit, your gonna choke bro im gagging as a i type-

Jean

bring back toxic masculinity because Jean's hair care routine is so good to the point he'll call out your split ends, i just know it

nsfw: a fucking chatterbox like his homies know everything. you've walked in on him telling connie in extreme detail how he had you in a full nelson last night while you screamed bloody murder and he doesn't see why ur mad. "babe, if anything i'm bragging about you 😏" fucking idiot istg. also kinda gross but I think he's the type to keep sniffing his fingers after fingering you like well into the next day EWW

Sasha

obvi she can't share for shit so I think she'd be an annoying person to eat out with. like yk when you're with your friends and only one person puts their card down so the rest can Venmo them? I think you can ask her to Venmo 20 and she'd send 15 and say something like "oh I didn't eat as many fries" but she fr did. never puts her card down either so believe it or not? jail.

nsfw: will literally be on her phone mid-sex with you. feel like she'd be really into the subway surfer vids and yeah, you go down on her and look up and she brought her own entertainment? ipad child behavior

Connie

i think he'd say "we" when talking about his fave sports team as if he contributed. like, "really connie, you helped win the superbowl? did you score a touchdown?" grow tf up

nsfw: insane bush on this one, i feel like he doesn't groom for shit and whatever, that's your choice! but I also feel like college-aged modern connie would talk shit about women who weren't bald down there and won't eat it unless it is. HYPOCRITE!! I think when he gets to his mid-twenties tho he'd mature (sasha beat his ass)

#aot headcannons #levi ackerman #levi headcanons #hange zoe #hange headcanons #erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin headcanons #jean kirstein #jean headcanons #anime headcanons #connie springer #sasha braus #aot x reader #aot fluff #snk levi

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wolfsetfree-if · 8 months

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Hi! Sorry if it was asked before, but could you please explain how werewolf hierarchy works? I think that I kind if understand that alphas are on the very top like chieftains of a tribe, what about the rest? Who is next? What is delta? Is omega the lowest ranking member? And what do packmates do according to their ranks? Especially deltas. Finally, ate there any other designation except for alpha, beta, delta and omega? And what do they represent?

Sorry for bombarding you with questions, I just got very curious about the werewolf lore, especially yours because each author writes werewolves differently.

Hello, dear anon! I loved receiving this many lore questions <3 let's start from the beginning

Your comparison to a tribe is completely on point because packs were born in ancient times as sort of tribes and they have kept some of the structures and rituals to this day. There isn't a proper hierarchy, though. Just, everyone has its place and specific role.

There is only a sort of line of command when hunts are concerned, with alphas at the top and omegas being the ones to either stay home or act more according to their instincts (usually, alphas don't order omegas around. They just allow them to do their thing and most importantly alphas protect the vulnerable members of their pack). So this means that there isn't a lower ranking member per se.

In the pack, there are in total five designations: alphas, betas, gammas, deltas, omegas. (There may be more werewolf designations, but I will explain them if they are relevant to the plot)

Alphas are the ones who ultimately make the decisions in the pack. Not because they are dominant, but because they are the first to put themselves in line to protect the pack, or to bear the blunt of any decision that might go badly. Alphas are built to be resistant and deadly. Also to feel incredibly protective and territorial of their pack.

Betas follow alphas in hunts, and generally they are built for teamwork - in contrast with other roles who work better alone. Betas are intelligent and sensitive to the mood of the pack, they are quick to react and follow directions. They, too are quite protective, but not as territorial as alphas.

Gammas are the ones who guard the territory. Or scout the land. They are incredibly silent, and the fastest type of were (if you don't count omegas when they are feral). They generally work well with betas, and are in tune with other werewolves, responding to directions as the others decide. They can, though, disobey and fight if they don't feel like their orders are fair.

Deltas are the hard working wolves of the pack. Physically built for resistance and stamina, they aren't fast or agile. Instead, deltas usually help gammas guard the pack territory and rarely leave it (Indigo and Raine, the two deltas, weren't with Bela at the djinn lair). They experience strong urges to provide for the pack, and to protect it (they can be even quite possessive of the pack).

Omegas are, at the same time, the strongest designation and the most vulnerable. Strong because they are built to kill anyone that might threaten the pups/injured pack members - including strong supernaturals or even other werewolves. Vulnerable because omegas have a docile nature and can be exploited by supernaturals who are aware of this. Omegas are rarely aggressive, but they can go feral if their pack is gravely threatened.

In a way, omegas are kept in high regard by the pack. They are looked after and respected (in good packs) for their role.

#ask #pack roles #alphas #betas #gammas #deltas #omegas

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greenandsorrow · 2 months

Text

the fox (2): Found something real that's out of touch.

Alastor x fem!fox!reader

stay tuned for the final chapter

"To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world."

~Le petit prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The girl woke up with a start. Her mother was by her side. The monotone sound of the machines attached to her body could be heard. She had died but they had brought her back.

In the few minutes it had taken to revive her, her soul had wandered all the way to Hell- due to how there hadn't been any guidance from Heaven. Her death hadn't been meant to happen. Not yet.

Time flew differently in the afterlife, since she had spent a good fifteen days at the hotel, but as mentioned, only a couple of minutes at the hospital.

The girl lived. She left the hospital, but she kept her promise to Alastor. She never forgot about him. While he was in Hell, thinking she was in Heaven, she was alive, roaming Earth.

She searched a plethora of archives at Louisiana's library and she tried to gather as much information as possible from her grandma about Alastor the radio host.

A serial killer that would hide his victims' bodies on deer haunting ground. He had been killed while mistaken for one. Hence his appearance in the afterlife. He was also found to be linked to voodoo practices- for hurtful purposes.

He had been a bad man in all his life. He had caused pain to others, but she couldn't just ignore the way he had been there for her during her short stay in the hotel.

Alastor was the one cooking her Jambalaya when she was sad and entertaining her with his charm and wit. That's how she'd always remember him. The smiling, gentledeer with the black cane.

She went as far as visiting Louisiana's old cemetery. Why would she leave flowers on the grave of a killer? Why would she sit and reminisce about one of Hell's most devious sinners? She wasn't the one to give him forgiveness. She didn't even try to justify his vile actions. The flowers were simply her way of saying "thank you, because even though you've done so many wrongs, you did at least one good deed and that was helping me".

The photograph on the grave -placed behind a now broken frame- was fading slowly but surely. The young man that looked back at her had a smooth, tan complexion and bespectacled, smart eyes. The shade of his eyes and hair reminded her of hot coffee in the morning. The quality wasn't great, but then again, coloured pictures weren't as advanced back then.

Alastor's visits to Rosie grew more frequent after his little, fluffy friend vanished. He'd sit for hours with his hellborn bestie, telling her about every single detail of his experience with the young girl.

"I'm surprised you didn't just devour her Hun! I'm sure she'd taste so delicious!"

"Dear Rosie... I have to be honest with you... If there's one person except from my mother that I would never hurt... It is her, the fox."

Both of whom were gone for the foreseeable eternity.

With Rosie refilling his tea cup frequently and asking him additional questions, Alastor couldn't help but think about the fox.

It hadn't been all good times, but now that she was gone, even the not so pleasant memories carried a bittersweet quality to them.

For example, there had been many arguments between them and the girl hadn't been scared to show him her teeth, quite literally.

He found himself thinking of her again as he made his way back to the hotel, after his visit at Cannibal town.

Alastor's memory...

She was being nosy again. Asking too many questions.

"Well yes, I did die in the woods like you... It's peculiar. This is the first time I ever meet someone who died under the same circumstances... not the exact same, but you get my drill?"

The girl had shrugged, but she hadn't been able to suppress her smile at being given attention. Alastor had continued talking, simultaneously warming up his voice for his radio show.

"What if this is too much of a coincidence? What if this is part of some bigger plot..."

"A bigger plot? How so Alastor?"

He liked the way she pronounced his name. She'd say it with caution, like it was something important that should be respected.

Sometimes people get sent in our lives for a reason. Sometimes they teach us a lesson. Sometimes we are the lesson. Sometimes they are reminders. Reminders of things we had forgotten that existed.

"Do you have a tail?"

"What do you expect?"

"Oh please show me!"

As much as he wanted to be intimidating and taken seriously, even if he was an overlord, the fact that his body got changed into a deer was somewhat humiliating. He. Is. Not. Prey.

"Not happening."

He should have shown her, just to see that sparkle in her eyes. Regret.

Charlie was singing. It wasn't like him zoning out, but a few weeks ago the fox had been in that very same room, walking away... frustrated.

Alastor's memory...

"Oh dear..." he had muttered, following after her before swiftly stepping in front of her and slightly raising his arm, blocking her way.

"Now it would be quite rude to simply walk away, would it not?"

"Manners are the last thing occupying my mind after I was thrown in purgatory."

He had let out a chuckle of agreement at her point.

"Sometimes a bit of charm can take you a long way in life... and besides the company of your sweet self would be delightful!"

"Can it take me to Heaven?"

"What about a story sweetheart? It was so brutal when I first spawned here... just thinking about that time makes my tongue tingle with the sweet taste of blood."

"I hate this place."

She had been unhappy all the time he knew her.

In a mockingly sympathetic tone Alastor had tried to distract her.

"Awww... are you really not enjoying your stay here in our beautiful hotel? I'm sure you have met some really interesting individuals."

"I prefer my well deserved place in HEAVEN thank you very much."

All their conversations had always circled back to that exact point.

While she was beginning to grow on him, to her Alastor was still no one. She would chat with him, but he wasn't someone special in her heart. The radio demon hated himself for allowing that bond to bloom, but he hated himself even more because it was one sided. Him being on the losing end.

And there had been another fight that very same day.

"LET ME DOWN"

"Ask nicely."

"I hate you."

Alastor's playful attitude had vanished.

"Hate is a strong feeling. What is there to hate? My looks? My voice? My past?"

"You're a demon. You're... I hate you as much as I hate this place."

"Think again."

Sometimes it was truly infuriating how stubborn she would be.

"Um... I... I don't know. Everything."

"Everything?"

Despite himself, Alastor's tone had gotten slightly bitter.

"Well... this just ruins the mood now. Don't you think it's rather unreasonable to hate someone you've known only for three days? I can tell you're quite childish... but you're not that childish, right young one?"

She had placed a palm on his chest to push him away. She was practically glowing from purity while he was emitting pure darkness.

The radio demon had looked a little surprised when the girl had pushed him away without showing fear. Leaning in, he'd spoken in a whisper while his hot breath had hit her cheek.

"My dear, you shouldn't resist what's happening... Just allow yourself to stay with us at the hotel... As a sinner."

Alastor had decided to corrupt the new resident of the hotel. His taunting words and unsettling change of size hadn't fazed her... The girl had been scared, but still, she had managed to give him a few really sharp scratches. Yet, he hadn't responded to pain at all.

...he would always carry the little scars she left on him. A reminder that she had been there.

The real reason he had wanted her to stay was selfish. It would have done her more harm than good. He didn't like how he had acted like the bigger person.

But when it had happened -the ridiculous scratches- with a threatening voice he had told her...

"You think you're so strong Fox, huh? Because if I wanted to, I could crush you with just a single motion of one of my fingers."

"Then, you'd... you'd have Heaven against you!"

He had bursted into a laugh.

"Oh dear... I can't believe how naive you are! Heaven is not going to do anything to defend an insignificant person such as yourself. They're more worried about themselves and their perfect little world. The ones you look up to are always the first to disappoint you mon petit renard."

He never understood why he had said that to her. He had practically tried to save her from a heartbreaking realization. A realization that had always pained Alastor in his childhood. To know you have to fend for yourself. While he had perfected the art, he wished she didn't have to.

He had forgotten they were fighting.

She was dreaming of him, again. Red hair. Razor blades for teeth. The sound of static filling the air and making her hair frizz.

The girl liked that memory, it was one of her favourites to relive in her sleep.

The fox's memory...

"No, my dear fox, you're not a good soul. In reality you're really just a little hypocrite and have a high opinion of yourself- haha!"

She had been curled up in a ball in her bed. Luscious hair flowing and a light dress covering her small body.

Alastor had walked into the room she was occupying and had sat down next to her. He had spoken in a soft and caring voice.

"You don't have to try and stay holy while you're here in hell... This is a safe place where you can act out your hedonistic desires and not worry about being judged by anyone!"

"Jeez Alastor! I don't have such desires... My only desire right now is a fluffy blanket and some hot chocolate."

Alastor had snapped his fingers... He then had turned into a shadow, slipping away like sand and returning like a chilly breeze... With hot chocolate and a very fluffy blanket he had most definitely stolen from Charlie's bedroom.

Her eyes had widened and she had smiled.

"Oh my gosh..."

He had grinned in response. It wasn't like him acting on impulse, without deeper motives.

"I told you mon renard! This is the best place you could possibly be to try and relax! Here we are free from all the restrictions set on us in Heaven!"

"Thank you Alastor!"

She had never bought a thing he had told her and he knew it. But this act had somehow been calming this... this weird apprehension. The demon had somehow known that his time with her would be limited. She hadn't belonged.

In comparison to him, she was a saint, an angel even.

While she had been drinking her hot chocolate, he had taken the opportunity to really look at her, imprinting her features in his memory, engraving the shine of her fangs and the blush on her cheeks in his brain.

"Now just look at that cute little face of yours!"

"Oh, look as much as you want. I'll be gone soon anyway."

She had said that with such a confidence. He wouldn't have shown her, but she could sense it. He was sad.

Alastor had simply chuckled and then sighed.

"Yes I guess so. But for now just rest... Maybe tomorrow will be your lucky day!"

He gently stroked her hair, until her eyes had closed.

"Sleep well darling~"

That night she had decided he was someone to her and not just anyone.

She never knew, but that same night he had noticed how small she actually was compared to him and had genuinely smiled.

She smiled in her sleep, mimicking the motion he had made... months ago.

...time flies.

The car accident is now years away.

All the parts-> here!

🧡Please do not repost or directly copy my work.

🧡This fic's title is a lyric from 'Not about angels' by Birdy. It's not proof read, so forgive any spelling or grammar errors.

🧡The human Alastor fanart isn't mine. All credits go to the artist.

🧡I am aware this isn't everyone's cup of tea -writing wise or plot wise- but it was a spontaneous idea of mine I wanted to try and make work.

🧡dividers-> @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

🧡my masterlist

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crazycookies73307 · 4 months

Text

Part 1!

Being gay was difficult when everyone shipped you with a guy.

Maybe it was her own fault for not being public about it, but honestly, her business was her's alone.

Common sense would proclaim that maybe she just wasn't interested in guys in general, and considering her past partners, it should've been obvious. But then again, her current friend group was relatively new, having moved to a new place. And not to be mean,but common sense was something that they seemed to lack.

This lack of common sense was evident, when the guy they shipped her with, knew she was gay, and was also down bad for someone else in the very same friend group.

Maybe it was the inner romantic in her speaking, but those two were simply meant to be.

The rest probably failed to notice it, but you were the one that completed him, not her.

You were the one who supported him regardless of your own troubles. You were the one who could easily read him, despite having known him for a far lesser time than the rest of the group.

The reason why you were so overlooked was probably because of your preference to stay in the background of things. Your presence was never overbearing, always comforting. Almost like a mother, in the sense that the group, including herself, felt comfortable with you, even when you were not physically present, as they knew you'd be there for them.

Never asking, and always giving.

She had deduced from your behavioural tendencies that your love language was acts of service. Though not always necessarily in the romantic sense.

You grew to be the support system of the group, helping them when they themselves weren't aware that they need it. You never waited to be asked, you just did whatever was needed to do.

You were always aware of what everyone was feeling, and that was something she envied sometimes. Like, how do you manage to be so in tune with anyone?

That being said, this awareness of yours and you selfless, caring attitude came to the forefront whenever he was concerned.

Being a girl herself, it wasn't hard to guess why.

To say that she found it to be the most wholesome thing she'd ever witnessed would be an understatement.

She first came to know of it when she caught you smiling at him once. What gave you away was the fact that he wasn't doing anything. He was just laid across the desk at the library, during on of your group's study sessions. You, being the unofficial mother of the group were also turned into their tutor. You had helped everyone, and he had finished half of his work and was waiting for you to help him with a certain part of it He hadn't said anything, he just took one look at you, to see that you were busy helping someone else, and he just laid his forehead to the desk, as though to mentally preparing himself to catch your attention. The others hadn't noticed anything, and she wouldn't have noticed it herself, had it not been for the fact that she was right next to him. She had looked up to see you, wrapping up whatever you were explaining and looked at him. Just one look, and you smiled.

And in that one smile, she knew.

You, my dear, were whipped.

Your smile was one of fond exasperation, knowing he would probably convince himself to not ask for your help, and moved over to him. By then, he had gotten up and was attempting to solve the question himself, and you moved beside him to simply state a couple of hints needed for the question. He had let out a quiet laugh, one only meant for your ears.

But being the eavesdropper that she was, she had heard it loud and clear.

And that one interaction was what led her to quietly simp for the two of you.

He was kinda hard to read, and she herself was intimidated at first. But he turned to be the first in the group to figure out her orientation. That was what helped her overcome the intimidation and get closer to him.

He soon became her confidant, the one she spoke to whenever she needed advice. She even gushed about her crushes to him. While she gushed, he listened. Being the type of guy he was, he never 'gushed'. At some point, she was convinced that she would have have to give up on her dream of you two living together in a beautiful home with two kids and a dog.

But she soon figured it out, that he might not 'gush' about anyone. His feelings were conveyed otherwise. It was through his eyes, through his gaze, that always followed you, for as long as he could without being caught. It was through his actions that protected you from even the slightest of inconveniences. It was through his minor comments, that he let slip of how your hard working attitude was to be admired.

Soon, she realised that you may have been the one to fall first. But he fell harder.

But the fact that neither of you were bold enough to be the one to make the first move was the root cause of all her problems at the moment.

Knowing girls, she had a feeling you wouldn't confess, for the fear of rejection would overcome anything else. But she also know of the impulsive nature of boys, in general.

A push was needed in the right direction, and if the fates had decided her to be the one to do the job, then who was she to argue?

At some point in their friendship, she let it slip that she would have totally gone for you, had it not been for the fact that you were already off the market. She didn't bother to mention the fact that you're straight.

He had immediately froze.

"What do you mean she's off the market?" He'd asked. And she'd innocently commented about how you were actually on the recieving end of quite a few confessions, and that it was only a matter of time before you found someone you wanted to be with.

She'd never seen him go into a frenzy as he did then.

Oh, to be in love.

"What confessions? Who? When? How come I didn't know? Why didn't-"

She had laughed at him and asked him to calm down. She'd asked him why he was so surprised, after all you were quite pretty. A pretty girl being confessed to was not exactly a new thing.

He had glared in response.

And in that one look and she knew, he wasn't surprised, no. He didn't doubt your ability to pull anyone you wanted.

Hell, he knew that better than anyone.

What he was worried about, was that he might've lost you to competitions unknown. Jerks who only fell for a pretty face.

In his eyes you were not just pretty, you were beautiful. And that wasn't even the best part of you. What attracted him even more was your heart, your character, and anything and everything that made you, you.

Granted he'd never let you know of his intentions, for the fear of losing you, but maybe it was time for the fear to take a backseat.

He looked at her, determination glinting in his eyes, as he said that he had something to do, before it was too late.

She'd smiled, mischief glinting in her eyes, as she wished him the best of luck. Watching as he marched out of the room, reaching for his phone, to wherever you were.

She laughs quietly, looking out the window as she thought of how some dreams could could come true, with the right push at the right time, in the right direction.

She just hoped she'd find someone to be cute with herself.

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #osamu miya #iwaizumi hajime #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu drabbles

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ravennaortiz · 4 months

Note

Hey

Juice 10,24 please

Thank u

Hey there! Lets see what magic we can cook up with Juice and the prompts 10:Shit. There's only 1 bed and 24:No panties?. As Always 18+. This is a little AU

Juice was exhausted as he walked the small cabin that the two of you were staying at for a bit under Chibs orders. Jax had led the club to far in to destruction and the bullets you had taken because of it had been the last straw for Chibs. The two of you had been in the car for the better part of two days and wanted nothing more than to shower and sleep in a decent bed. As Juice trudged back to the car eyes blurry from lack of sleep it hit him.

Shit. He thought to himself as he stopped midstride and walked back through the cabin quickly before sighing heavily. Making his way back to the car where you sat waiting for the all clear you, he tried to put on a smile. You weren't buying it though. "Whats wrong?" you asked as you stepped out of the car carefully. "There is only one bed" replied Juice as he grabbed your arm to steady you. "Your really bad about being helped as a sided note" he added with a laugh. "Not the first time you've said that in the last two days. " you replied as the two of you walked to the cabin with him mostly holding you up.

"I don't get why my uncle is being so....dramatic. This isn't the worst injury I've had nor is it my first bullet wound" you continued. Juice was silent for a moment. While you were not wrong, he also knew like Chibs that Jax had shot you on purpose and he had not been aiming at your leg originally. "He just worries about you. Your the only family he has now" stated Juice as he helped you settle down on the couch before going to get the bags from the car.

***

"Where are you going?" you called sleepily as you turned in the bed as Juice stopped in the doorway with a small blanket and pillow. "Couch to sleep. Duh" he replied with a grin. "Why?" you asked as you watched him. Valid question thought Juice to himself. "Your uncle wants me to protect you not sleep with you" joked Juice making you laugh. "Have you asked him that? " you replied grinning as you caught his unease. "Besides isn't it easier to protect me if your in the same room?" you add as you patted the bed beside you.

"Fine but I'm not happy about this" replied Juice as he made his way over and got in next to you. "Whatever you say" you replied a smile dancing across your face before speaking again. "Wonder if you would change your tune if you knew I only had a tshirt on" you whispered low enough for him to hear. Juice leaned up on his elbow to look at you in the darkness. The two of you had always been close and flirtatious. Juice weighed his options if you were giving him the green light Chibs would probably be okay with this.

"No panties huh?" replied Juice as he moved closer to you as his hand snaked to your hip lightly caressing the fabric of the tshirt making your breath quicken. "Guess you will have to see for yourself" you whispered as you felt his hand move lower toying with the hem of the shirt. "Guess I will" he replied with a grin.

Want more Juice? Click here

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#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #juan juice ortiz x reader #imagine juice #juice fanfic #juice imagine #juice fanfiction #juice imagines #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz headcanons #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice soa

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chessholic · 4 months

Text

Bored - The Toymaker

Author's Note: I wasn't really happy with this, but I thought maybe you guys would enjoy it. My english is broken and the german accent-thingy didn't help at all. However this one post did help me a lot and I wanted to put it here for you all (thank you so much, you saved my ass). This is also my first Tumblr post so this is rather exciting. More is to come so stay tuned I guess. My obsession always lasts for a while. :) Thank you. Have a great day, night, evening or morning. <3

The Post That Helped Me:

ー

Summary: The Toymaker had turned you into one of his toys. However regardless of your situation you couldn't help but feel rather, well, bored.

ー

Sitting on the shelf was nice for the first few hours after you had gotten over your fear. You were beginning to come to the conclusion that you were messed up, well mentally and now physically too.

That's because you couldn't help, but admire him. Even now you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. He had his caramel coloured leather apron on top of his waistcoat that was the colour of a plum. Your eyes wandered to his face admiring every bit of it with few disgusted voices nagging at you in the back of your brain.

'Stockholm syndrome darling'

'You are disgusting'

'You should be ashamed of yourself'

'He is dangerous you idiot'

Deciding you were already screwed you returned back into admiring him. His blond grey hair was curled and styled without any imperfections. How did he do it? You could use some advice, well, not anymore. Your hair was beautiful all the time, perfect, too perfect. You weren't a human, you were a doll, his doll.

And who exactly was he? You didn't quite know. You didn't even know his name, you didn't know if he had a name. You only knew that he was The Toymaker. And every sane person would be rightfully terrified of him.

However you had been pulled towards him from the moment you did step into the store. You had been mesmerized by him. However you did admit you were afraid too, especially while playing the life-or-death game.

If you had known better you would have chosen something else that day.

ー

You had been looking for a present, you found the perfect one. However the very charming shop owner had just stated you were short on a few pennies.

"Bloody hell", you mumbled turning a shade of red from embarrassment. You thought you had enough. "I apologise for taking your time", you said reaching to collect your money.

"Nein nein", he teased softly stopping your hand making you almost shiver at you making physical contact with him.

"How about zis, let us play ein game-", he proposed before stopping to look at your confused expression.

"-If you vin, you can take dee toy, for free, nein charge", he stated smiling like the Cheshire Cat. It was almost giving you shivers, but for the wrong reasons. The smile gave you a picture of a cat and mouse.

Only if the mouse would get into the cat's trap.

"And if you win?", you asked hesitantly.

"You vill stay with me and play mein games, du und ich, forever!", he declared cheerfully giving you a mischievous smirk in the end. He was challenging you.

Did he somehow know that you couldn't refuse the offer? You later learned that he did, in fact know.

"What do we play Mr...?", you asked a bit scared of his changing demeanor.

"You kan call me dee Toymaker, meine Liebling", the Toymaker said making your cheeks flush a little.

Why on earth were you flustered?

"Und what we vill play, zat is your ge-decision", the Toymaker told you. Maybe it was polite to let you choose?

What did you like to play? There was one game that instantly popped into your mind. At the same time the Toymakers grin widened making him look psychotic.

"I shall choose that we play a game of chess", you stated fiddling with your fingers nervously.

"That is a splendid choice my dear, we shall play a game of chess!", the Toymaker celebrated like he had already won.

Wait. Where did his accent go?

Before you could voice your questions the Toymaker snapped his fingers and your life was never the same again.

ー

Now you have been sitting on the store's shelf for god-knows-how-long. You couldn't move. You didn't really remember what it felt like to be a human anymore.

'Bloody hell, this is boring', you thought staring at the shop. You had seen customers come, but never leaving. You had a suspicion of what might have happened to them.

You could see the shop even eyes closed that's how long you had spent examining the shop from your shelf.

"My my, is someone bored, meine Liebling dollen?", asked a teasing voice suddenly from your left. You turned to look at the charming man who was smirking. You had heard the smirk already from his voice.

'Let's play something, please', you pleaded in your head fully knowing he could hear your thoughts.

You didn't expect to see the Toymaker speechless. He seemed to be lost for words the first time in his time being.

"You want to play mein games?", he asked gingerly, like you were playing an evil game with his feelings.

'Do I really have something to lose anyway? Yes, please'

"What do you want if you win?"

You knew that your freedom was off the table. However something came to your mind.

'I want to be able to speak and move'

The Toymaker looked puzzled. Like this was some kind of mystery he couldn't crack.

'I want to speak with you, walk around the store and play with you'

Some rare emotion flashed in the Toymakers eyes, you couldn't place it in that exact moment. Because a pain flashed inside you making you gasp for air. Then you realised what had happened.

"I- I can speak", you stuttered confused, but joy was evident in your voice.

"Well yes, it would make the game rather impossible perhaps if you couldn't speak or move", the Toymaker scoffed slightly while picking you up from the shelf.

You knew it was bullshit. It was a rather poor excuse. Feeling brave you decided your next action without too much thinking.

You put your arms around his neck and bury your face to his neck inhaling his scent. He smelled like wood and colone, intoxicating. His scent wrapped you into a safe bubble making you smile.

"Thank you", you whispered. You didn't think he was evil all the way. There was evil in good. So in evil there was good.

The man had stiffen trying to figure out what you were doing. After a moment he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. Slowly he melted into your touch, even though he tried to fight against the warm feeling. But eventually he didn't want the warmth to go away.

"You are welcome meine Liebling"

ー

#the toymaker #the celestial toymaker #the toymaker x reader #doctor who #doctor who image #the celestial toymaker x reader

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sawyerconfort · 7 months

Text

dancing with the devil | verna x reader

I'm back!!!

this one is just a spooky season special, as I've been away for all these days and haven't done one yet, I thought it would be cool to do it now!

this oneshot comes a lot from my obsession with Mike Flanagan's work, which even led me to watch The Fall of the House of Usher recently.

and, of course, it also comes from my obsession with Carla Gugino.

so, I hope you like it!

late requests coming out soon, so stay tuned!

enjoy!

requests open, but please be patient with me.

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

PROMPT: It's New Year's Eve, and you find yourself in a bar, completely alone, with no one to give you the good luck's kiss. But a mysterious new barista catches your eye, and she could be your salvation, if only she didn't hide so many secrets.

***

You weren't one to complain, but it had been a pretty horrible year.

People generally await the New Year with a lot of ambition, full of resolutions, glamorous plans and self-centered achievements. But you do not.

You just wanted the next one to be better.

As if the miserable conditions you were experiencing at Fortunato were not enough, not being paid enough for the effort you made, sitting at the reception desk at the behest of the great Rufus Griswold - who did nothing except try to harass you in every way -, in a routine exhausting where you could never sleep properly, you still had your parents, and the terrible relationship you had with them.

So, when you sat at that bar, at the lonely counter, all you thought about was stuffing yourself until you pass out, hoping for a counting miracle. Some people were getting along well when you arrived, and others were giving you side-eye, but with the thought that you were less attractive to them, you decided that the counter would be the best option.

Suddenly, those eyes that looked yellow from afar fell on you, and the figure that carried them turned around, with a subtle smile.

"I see someone needs a drink, hm?"

You looked at her, and shrugged, before answering. "Just today. I can't drink, I still have work tomorrow."

She continued to smile, and you had the slight impression that her eyes had returned to their normal color. Clear, deep and very eye-catching. But it could just be the impression, because you were too exhausted to make sense.

"Ah, I understand. Just a minute, I'll prepare something relaxing for you, miss…"

"(Y\N)."

She nodded, turning away and concentrating on preparing whatever the drink was. Like I said before, you were too tired to care about what drink you were going to drink. If you could just get to New Year with something in your throat, that would be a good idea.

After minutes that felt like seconds of waiting, the barista turned to you, two shiny glass cups in her hands. She was still smiling subtly as she slid your glass and turned hers in her other hand.

She served you with the same smile, and then looked at you. "It's funny, I can see there's something wrong with you... Something that's stopping you from celebrating tonight."

You looked back at her, frowning, and sighing afterwards.

"It's true, it was... It wasn't a very good year", you commented, feeling terrible for venting to a stranger. "But the year ahead will be better, I know that."

"And why is that? Why was it so bad?"

"My boss, my work... everything makes me exhausted... and not having anyone to talk to is really bad at these moments...", You took a sip. "Um, that's great, is it Merlot?"

"It's Merlot, but it's not one of the best...", the barista said, tapping her glass still. "I've seen and experienced better, around the world."

"Have you been around the world?", you asked, unable to resist your curiosity. She smiled and nodded. "Where did you go? On that expedition?"

"I've been there too, but not just on this occasion", she said, and suddenly stopped, as if she were saying too much. "You know, it's interesting, being on the other side. Sometimes it's tiring, it breaks my heart, but... It's good, there are things there that are worth the effort."

You were more intrigued. She didn't look like the type of person who would travel around the world, wearing black clothes and a gothic look, as if she wanted to hide on purpose. Generally, these trips are made for people who want to be seen, above all else in the world.

"What are you talking about, exactly?"

"Have you ever had a dream... a desire... a deep, hidden desire that no one has ever fulfilled, and that you yourself didn't imagine you could achieve?", she looked at you with the same curiosity as you. "I'm like... A dream maker. I go on these trips just for that..."

You frowned, still not understanding, but took another sip to hide it, nodding.

"Are you the personification of the genie in the lamp?"

She laughed. "Ah, I would like to, but no. It would be a lot of ego on my part, but I would say that I'm better than him", she laughed. "Verna is my name, but the name never makes that much of a difference to me."

“Different name, never heard it before,” you said, drinking again. "Are you from here?"

"I'm from nowhere. I'm everywhere, at all times... it's strange, I know, but it makes sense to me."

You nodded, finding it strange. And then, he found it even stranger when she helped herself to the Merlot on the counter and drank some. She smiled at you, still tapping the glass.

"But what about you, (Y/N)? Do you have any desires that you thought would be unrealizable, unattainable? Please be honest with me."

You opened your mouth, and then thought a little. "No. I think I'm happy this way. Except for a few little things that I would change here and there..."

She softened her gaze and took a sip, her clear eyes suddenly yellowed again and wide, fixed on you. "What kind?"

“Like, my boss giving me the justice I deserve, and stop hitting on me,” you laughed, drinking the last sip and pouring yourself again. "Not much."

"Your boss is too terrible for you, (Y/N)," Verna replied, smiling. "Don't ask me how I know this, but I do. One day someone will show him what's really good, don't worry."

You frowned. "You seem so sure, are you some kind of psychic?"

She laughed. "No. I would like to be, but no. I... I see people's possibilities. And that's it. I help them based on the possibilities."

She stared at you again, and looked away at the TV, where the ball was falling on the screen in Times Square.

"Oh, it looks like it's almost time," she whispered, laughing. "Your year is going to be great, (Y/N), I'll make sure of that."

“You…” you started, but she shushed you, smiling.

"You just have to make a deal with me."

"What kind of deal?"

Verna thought for a while, and then smiled. "Wow, you seem so sure..."

She was mocking you, of course, you realized right away, and with a muffled laugh, you glanced back at the TV, hearing people echoing a countdown. The ball finally reached its destination, and you turned around, seeing Verna's yellow eyes glued to yours again. She suddenly leaned over and stole a peck from you, taking a little too long to pull away.

“Was that your deal?”, you whispered, smiling mischievously. Verna took a moment to open her eyes and then tilted her head, as if agreeing.

She thought for a while and then finally said, her voice low, slowly close to your ear, as if she wanted to seduce or bewitch you. She had one of the softest voices you'd ever heard, and apparently she knew how to use it.

"Actually, it was a plan to find out if you were trustworthy, if you were innocent enough to accept my deal…", she whispered. "And because I know, deep down, that what you wanted most was to be kissed on New Year's Eve, my sweet client."

You trailed off, looking at her, getting lost in the soft expression on her pale face. Suddenly, an impulsive idea occurred to you, and you leaned in again, kissing her, this time with more intensity. When you touched her hair, behind the back of her head, you had the impression that it melted at the touch, as if Verna were just an illusion, as if she were the literal cosmic dust from which human beings possibly emerged.

However, the kiss didn't last long. She pushed you away with her feather-light hands, and to the naked eye, it looked like it was just a breeze of wind stopping you both. She touched your face, running her fingers lightly across your cheek as she whispered:

"We can't do that right now, (Y\N). I'm afraid you're not sober enough, and it wouldn't be wise for me to take advantage of this."

You looked at it for a moment and realized it made sense. But she had kissed you first, so it was clearly just an excuse, as always happened. You started to wonder if your kiss was that bad.

"But, Verna…"

"Please, darling. I'm trying to be reasonable. Like I said, I work with possibilities, and the possibility of us working out is less than zero. Don't get me wrong, it's just in case…", she hesitated. "Condemning pure-souled humans to my cruel and inevitable fate wouldn't be extremely political of me."

You sighed, and gave her the space she needed, even though you couldn't take your eyes off her. Verna was the same, and you could feel that, despite what it seemed like, that moment you shared wasn't just fun, much less just a New Year's kiss.

Verna poured you the rest of the Merlot and, with the same soft expression, touched your face again. This time, her voice was clear, and in a moment of vulnerability, she made it more than explicit that she wasn't lying when she said:

"But we'll still meet, (Y\N)," she whispered, her fingers again like soft feathers touching his skin. "Our deal may not have been sealed, but you've proven enough innocence and courage to convince me that you're capable of this. You'll have a great new job, I promise, and your boss will never bother you again."

She nodded, and you allowed yourself to nod too, so confused that you definitely didn't know what to believe anymore. There was a little devil on your shoulder urging you to try again, and there was another devil, right in front of you, who would be harder to convince than you expected.

"And of course, you will have my full protection," Verna whispered, smiling. "I'm not going to promise you eternal life, because that would be impossible even for someone like me. But I promise, and I need you to believe me on this one, I promise that I will move mountains so no one will hurt you again."

You smiled, and drank the last sip. Suddenly, another impulse. This time, a question, instead of an action.

"What are you? An angel? A genie without a lamp? A tempting devil who seeks souls and deals?"

Verna smiled, and simply looked away at her glass again, magically empty. "I already told you. I'm nothing, I don't have a life. I'm just what your mind wants me to be."

You were confused, but suddenly, a memory hit you hard. When you looked at Verna, it was as if she already knew.

"I really need to go. My mom will be furious if I get home late, even on New Year's..."

She nodded. "Please don't take any chances. This part, I won't be able to protect you."

You laughed, stood up and slid out the only dollar bill you had. Verna looked at the ballot, he turned it around and handed it back to you, denying it.

"No need. The bill is already paid."

"What?"

"Please don't insist. I insist."

You looked at her, shrugged, and frowned, suddenly realizing that maybe it was for the best. She kept watching you, until you left, and as soon as you turned outside, on the street, you noticed who had just walked through a solid wall.

The bar was gone.

And she was gone too.

Even more confused - and blaming the drink -, you put your hands in your pockets to protect yourself, and walked back home, into the daylight. As soon as you crossed the street, however, another very curious thing caught your attention.

There was a raven, standing still, resting on a post. It was just any raven, but it was a raven, and it looked down at you. Suddenly, you had the impression that he had winked at you.

"What nonsense. Ravens don't blink," you whispered to yourself, looking at the raven again. He remained there, standing still, as if he hadn't even noticed you. Deciding to ignore that crazy night, you turned around.

As you disappeared down the street, you whispered to yourself once again.

"Ravens don't blink."

Oh, but if you only knew that they do more than blink... If you only knew...

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #imagine #fluff #angst #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou x reader #carla gugino #carla gugino x reader #verna x reader #I love verna I would make deals with her for sure #this year's spooky season is finally out!#yes I'm back who cheered #requests coming soon

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helloalycia · 7 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] // 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

summary: as tensions rise between your tribe at Black Hat and the Ottos at the ranch, you're certain the killing won't end. Of course, things start to change when the Clarks join the ranch, and one Clark in particular seems to be after the same thing as you: peace.

warning/s: mentions of discrimination, violence, death and injury.

author's note: hey all! so this was a request on here about a month ago and i've been trying very hard to get it written up, but between work and being ill lol, it's been hard. Finally though, it's here! this first chapter is a lil quick-paced to get through the scenes in the show, but it slows down after this and there’s much more alicia x you scenes too. four parts to expect, so stay tuned :)

(also peep the new layout 👀)

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

I was finishing eating lunch when my dad returned from his outing with a small party from our tribe. He didn't look hurt in any way thankfully, but when he spotted me, he dismissed those around him so he could speak to me privately.

"Hey, Y/N," he sighed, pulling me in for a side hug. "How are you?"

I returned the hug, curious to what he wanted to share. "I'm good. What happened? Did you get into another confrontation with the ranchers?"

The ranchers were those inhabiting Broke Jaw Ranch, owned by the Otto family, and whom had problems with us at Black Hat Reservation ever since they stole our land. Prior to the dead rising, my father and ancestors had been trying to win back the land the legal way, but legalities never worked in our favour. Now, no more laws meant resorting to the old fashioned method – violence. And that was exactly what the ranchers practiced, which made me fear every time my father left our home.

"We came across Troy and some others," my dad explained. Troy was one of Jeremiah Otto's sons – the other being Jake – who also headed up the ranch, and he was an absolute dickhead, but a dangerous one. "We warned them to stay away from us."

"You think they'll listen?" I asked.

He tried not to smile as he suddenly threw a bag on the ground from his back, and out tumbled several pairs of boots. Presumably Troy and his party's.

"They should get the hint," he answered. "And if not, they know the helicopter was us. They know what we're capable of."

I sighed inwardly, knowing he was referring to the helicopter our people had shot out of the sky the other night. It wasn't something I was particularly proud of, even if I wasn't directly involved, but it did serve to send a message. I understood why we did it, but sometimes I only wanted peace and not more violence.

"What is it?" he asked, sensing something was wrong.

I looked up at him, expression softening. "Can't we try to negotiate with them? I'm sure if we agreed to speak with Jake–"

"You know what this land means to our people," he said sternly. "The Ottos don't negotiate. Never have. Why would we try to meet them halfway?"

I nodded slowly, having heard this many times before. And to an extent, he was right. The ranchers and the Ottos were all the same, as experience had shown us. They didn't like us one bit, solely because we were different to them.

But if there was a chance at negotiation, Jake would be the one to go to. The most levelheaded of the Ottos, he wanted a peaceful solution, too. But my father didn't trust him, nor see it that way. And maybe I should've started to think like him, too.

"Sorry, I know you're right," I admitted. "I'm just tired of trying to survive, even now. I thought it would be over."

My dad frowned apologetically before pulling me in for a hug. "We're going to get our land back. And they aren't going to hurt us anymore. We've got the upper hand now, Y/N, you just wait."

I nodded, returning his hug, and tried to stop being so soft. His methods weren't always agreeable, but maybe they were necessary to winning this war.

"I'm gonna double check our security on the perimeter," he said once he pulled away. "Take care of yourself."

I offered him a small smile as I watched him walk away, before it faded and I felt shitty all over again. Deciding to get my mind off it, I went to the well to get some water, only for Ofelia to join my side and earn my attention.

"Hey, you look down," she noticed, glancing at me as she filled her bottle up. "What's up?"

Ofelia was one of our newest members of the Black Hat Reservation, someone my father saved from dying out in the desert. As I'd gotten to know her more and more, we became quite good friends and I was grateful to have her around, not really opening up to many people like I did her.

"Just thinking about all this stuff with the ranch," I admitted. "It's tiring is all."

"They should give back what they stole," Ofelia said with a sigh. "They can't get away with it, even now."

"I know," I agreed. "I just– sometimes I feel like the violence is a never ending cycle. They steal from us. We fight them. They fight us. We blow up their helicopter. When does it end?"

"When they surrender," Ofelia said confidently, and I envied it because why couldn't I think that way? Why did I have to be so soft?

I nodded, spacing out a little as I looked back to the well. She squeezed my shoulders slightly, comforting me.

"It won't always be like this," she promised. "We're getting close. They'll give it up eventually. And the cycle will end."

"I hope so," I muttered, before nudging her in the side. "Thanks, Ofelia."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

Barely a few days later, there was a commotion out front, and by the time I'd left the diner to see what was happening, my father was stood before Jake Otto himself and a stranger he'd brought along with him, probably another rancher. All guns were pointed their way and I grew curious to why Jake had shown up. Did he want to negotiate? Maybe there was a chance after all?

"Take them inside whilst I get cleaned up," my dad ordered, flicking his hand.

Some guards ushered Jake and the girl inside the diner as I exchanged glances with my dad, ignoring the bloody apron he wore, a consequence of him beheading a pig moments before.

"You're hearing him out?" I asked, trying to hide any hopefulness, but he knew me too well.

"Doesn't mean anything," he told me, giving me a knowing look. "But we shall hear what he has to say."

I tried to contain my curiosity and eagerness as I nodded. After waiting for him to clean himself up, we both went to the diner and took a seat at the booth opposite Jake and the mystery girl. It was quiet at first, Jake and my father eyeing each other up. Then his eyes met mine and he nodded slightly in acknowledgement, to which I returned. We'd spoken a few times on occasion, but that was in the old world.

The mystery girl beside him also looked between my father and I, though with a hardened stare as if she'd already made her mind up about us. It could have been laughable considering she didn't know us, but I was too eager to hear what their proposal was to care.

"My father will never abandon the ranch," Jake started calmly, meeting my dad's eyes. "You know that."

Without faltering, my dad answered, "Then we'll feed him to the crows like Phil McCarthy." I tried not to cringe as I recalled said rancher being left to be pecked away by crows when he trespassed on our land. "Then Russell Brown and Vernon Trimbol."

Those named were all shared founders of Broke Jaw Ranch, and the number one reason we could never have our land returned to us. My father harboured enough hatred for them for all of us, and I didn't blame him, even if he sometimes let it dictate his actions.

"Russell's dead," Jake informed us. "The adobe burned."

A little pleased, my dad said, "That karma's overdue, but welcomed."

"Vernon Trimbol's dead, too," the mystery girl spoke, eyeing my father curiously.

"I hope it was a long and... painful illness," my dad said without any remorse.

"He died with his family," the girl continued, almost challengingly. "His wife, his daughter. You killed them."

I furrowed my brows, eyes studying the brunette and her absurd accusation. But before I could even think to defend my father, he spoke calmly to Jake.

"Is this girl speaking for you?"

The girl and Jake exchanged glances before Jake ignored my father's question and instead pleaded, "We need the violence to stop."

"Soon will, Jake," my dad answered nonchalantly, before raising three fingers in the air. "Three down, one to go."

"My father never did anything to you or your people–" Jake began, but this seemed to irritate my dad.

"Tell me, junior," he interrupted, "do the lies turn your stomach? Do you taste the bile in the back of your throat?"

"State police investigated this," Jake explained, "they found no correlation between–"

"Stop–" my father banged his hand on the table with frustration, "–talking. You're boring me, like you did in court. Those days are dead."

"I thought we had an understanding, even outside of court," Jake tried again, and I could see why my father was growing more angry, despite holding it in.

"I understood," my father reminded him. "When you came here with your drunk friends, I was to serve them their food with a smile on my face. Tolerate their slurs. Clean up their vomit in the toilet, and thank them for their pocket change tips."

I swallowed hard, the memories of those days returning to mind as he mentioned them. Nobody wanted to see their family belittled, but that's exactly what we had to endure from Jake's family. The peace we wanted was looking farther and farther out of reach.

"The days of the white man's courts are over," my dad told him. "Land grabs, desecrations... over. Now you have our verdict. The first humans' verdict. You must vacate our lands."

It fell quiet as Jake stared at my father, trying to read his expression. Would he finally give in? Could this be it?

"I was hoping for a parley," Jake said instead, and I should have known it was too good to be true. "A chance to negotiate and to avoid more loss."

I glanced at my dad, seeing him stuck in thought as he digested Jake's words. But this was exactly what I was after this whole time and we couldn't just let it slip by.

"Let's do it," I spoke up for the first time, earning everyone's attention.

"Y/N–"

"No, I'm serious," I cut my dad off as he tried to make me reconsider, no doubt. "A parley is good. It's what we all need. To stop the killing. To stop the cycle."

"Exactly," the mystery girl agreed, and I glanced at her with both gratitude and curiosity.

My dad paused, studying my expression, and I communicated my hope for this all I could with just my eyes. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.

"Maybe you're right," he finally gave in, responding to Jake's offer. "If a parley can spare blood... we can talk about it. After we eat."

Just on cue, Ofelia approached our booth with a tray of freshly prepared food, setting it down before us.

After sharing an awkwardly quiet meal with Jake and his newly introduced rancher friend, Alicia, the latter excused herself to chat with Ofelia outside. I watched them leave, wondering who exactly Alicia was and how she knew Ofelia, but my attention was returned to Jake and my dad as they discussed the terms of the parley.

One of our people were to be exchanged with one of theirs as a hostage – in this case, Jake – to earn each other's trust and respect the temporary ceasefire. I was familiar with this method and even ready to offer myself up, but as soon as I brought it up to my dad once Jake left the room, I was immediately shut down.

"I'm not sending you," he said in that annoyingly calm but stern voice he pulled out on his subordinates. "I've already decided it's Ofelia."

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. "Dad, c'mon. I'm the right person for this! You know peace is all I've been preaching! I can do this, just let me! Let me be useful!"

"You are useful," he told me. "Here."

"Dad–!"

"End of discussion!" he silenced me, before closing his eyes with annoyance. "You're not going over there. Ofelia knows what she's doing. She's older."

"So, what? I'm a kid all of a sudden?" I asked rhetorically. "We both know I stopped being a kid a long time ago. Back when–"

"Don't say it," he warned me, and the hurt returned to his eyes momentarily. "Please, Y/N. Just respect my decision."

I clenched my jaw, frowning. I couldn't argue this with him, I knew it. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't hurt him, so I nodded reluctantly and left it at that.

"Good," he said with relief. "C'mon."

We joined the others outside, where Ofelia and Alicia seemed to finish up their conversation. My dad nodded to Ofelia, who approached us, seeming to know what was going to happen. After discussing the parley with her, we waited for Jake to be ready, but he seemed to be bickering quietly with Alicia on the sidelines.

"Do we have a parley or not?" my father asked impatiently, interrupting their fight.

Jake gave Alicia a disapproving stare, but nodded. "It appears we do. Alicia will be staying."

My father nodded and motioned for Jake to follow him for a moment. This was the perfect chance for me to speak to Ofelia.

"You know them?" I asked her quietly, away from prying ears.

"Only Alicia," she answered truthfully. "Remember when I told you about that family who helped me? The Clarks?" I nodded and she continued, "That's Alicia, the daughter."

I was surprised to say the least, glancing over at the brunette in question. "Small world."

"Uh-huh..."

"From what you told me about them, about her, it doesn't sound like they're like the Ottos," I said with confusion. "Why is she helping them?"

Ofelia frowned, looking down at her shoes. "We killed Travis, her family. He was in the helicopter when we shot it down."

I sighed, glancing out at the Clark girl who was standing with her arms crossed, looking like she was holding in a restrained anger. It made sense now, why she was so frustrated back there.

"It wasn't right," I said quietly, looking back to Ofelia, "but dad's stubborn. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone but the Ottos."

"Well, Alicia won't let that go," Ofelia said knowingly. "Not right now."

"But she's staying for the parley, so that's gotta be a good thing, right?" I asked somewhat hopefully.

Ofelia nodded. "She's levelheaded. Smart. She wants the same as you, Y/N. Peace. She won't wreck this, if that's what you're worried about."

I hummed in acknowledgment, studying Alicia once more, wondering if she was all of these things Ofelia was saying and more. If this was the same girl who took Ofelia and her family in when they needed help, the same girl who cared for strangers as if they were her own, then maybe all wasn't doomed.

"I have to go," Ofelia suddenly said, eyes glancing behind me at Jake and my father.

I nodded, pulling her in for a quick hug. "Be careful over there. They aren't all like your friend."

Ofelia snickered quietly. "I know." Then she met my eyes one last time, nodding in Alicia's direction. "Look out for her, yeah? She's good."

I nodded, if not for the stranger, then for Ofelia. "I promise."

Shortly after Ofelia left with Jake and a scout, I found myself washing up some dishes in the diner kitchen as usual. My dad was showing Alicia around the place, but I didn't expect him to turn up in the kitchen with her in tow, leaving her to me.

"Y/N," he called, and I shut off the tap, turning around and surprised to see to them. "Alicia is going to be sticking with you during her time here, helping around as much as she can. Is that alright?"

I raised my eyebrows slightly, glancing at the deadpan expression of the girl in question before meeting my father's eyes questioningly. Why me? There were so many other people he could have left her with. And besides, I thought he didn't trust my instincts when it came to stuff like this.

Obviously, I couldn't argue that with him in front of her, so I simply nodded.

"Sure," I said awkwardly, before meeting the green eyes already fixed on me. "You can help me finish the washing up, I guess."

"Thank you," my dad said gratefully, before leaving the two of us alone.

"Nice to meet you," I greeted her. "I'm Y/N."

"Walker's daughter, right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, before turning to face the sink as she joined my side. Swallowing uncomfortably, I felt the need to glance at her and say, "I'm sorry. About your– about Travis."

She furrowed her brows. "How do you know that? How– how can you even say that? It was your father's orders that killed him."

She wasn't shouting, but the anger in her voice was still present, only making me feel guilty because she wasn't wrong.

"Ofelia told me," I answered. "And I didn't want that to happen. I told my dad not to shoot the heli down, but his hatred for the Ottos runs deeper than anything else. Even me, sometimes."

She clenched her jaw, looking down at the sink, and I almost regretted bringing it up in the first place.

"What do you want me to do?" she changed the subject.

Knowing I couldn't do much about her dismissiveness, I nodded to the sink. "Start washing, I guess."

Between the two of us, we finished washing all the dishes and pans in no time, an uncomfortable silence filling the air, then I wiped my hands and spoke.

"I'm gonna go pick some vegetables from the field, if you wanna join."

"Do I have a choice?" she asked, neither bitter nor indifferent, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

"Look, you might not like this, but this exchange is the only way to ensure peace. If this works, maybe things can finally be okay."

She quirked a brow curiously. "And you want that?"

"What?"

"Peace?"

I looked to her with confusion. "Why wouldn't I?" She rose an eyebrow judgementally, so I asked, "Do you?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, giving nothing away. "Of course. I want to be safe. I want to keep my family safe."

"So do I," I said gently.

"Then we're in agreement," she noticed.

I sighed quietly, already leading her out the kitchen. "If only it were that easy."

She mumbled in agreement as she followed me to the vegetable patch, the both of us holding a basket to collect our pickings in. Again, it was quiet between us, something I presumed would remain considering we were still 'enemies', but it didn't last long as she spoke up.

"Will this really work?" she asked from beside me.

I paused, glancing at her as she worked. "Well, if we leave them out any longer, the sun's gonna fry them and then they won't be very edible any–"

"Not this," she stopped me, giving me a disapproving look. "The parley."

"Oh." I cleared my throat, continuing to pick the chillies from the plant. "Hopefully, yeah. If your people treat Ofelia with respect–"

"They aren't my people," she interrupted firmly.

As if she wasn't a mystery already.

"Okay...," I said slowly. "Well, if the ranchers treat Ofelia with respect, a relationship of sorts can form between us and them, opening everything up to negotiation."

"And if they don't?" Alicia asked.

I gave her a questioning look. "Won't they?" When she didn't answer, I grew worried. "Alicia, is Ofelia in danger there?"

"No, no she's not," she assured me when she saw my expression. "Not with Jake. He'll keep her safe."

Feeling warm under the sun, I used my sleeve to wipe at my face and sighed. "Jake is patient, much easier to talk to than his family, but it's not enough."

"Your father isn't very patient," Alicia commented.

I smiled dryly. "My people have been patient for centuries. More than you could know, Alicia."

"I'm not going to pretend to understand what the history of the ranch means to you and your people," she said earnestly, "but I'm hoping we can find a peaceful resolution. That's why I'm here, Y/N."

I nodded, meeting her gaze. For some stupid reason, I wanted to believe her. I think I might have. She seemed different to the others, maybe because of everything Ofelia had told me of her. I wasn't sure, but I truly hoped she wouldn't disappoint.

Unfortunately for everyone, the parley didn't last long and I still wasn't sure if it was slightly my fault. Maybe if I'd kept a closer eye on Alicia, they wouldn't have smuggled her out of there? Or maybe it was inevitable.

I wasn't sure. All I knew was one second I was telling her to get some water from the well and the next there was the sound of shooting coming from outside, along with a mini ambush of ranchers. By the time I'd grabbed a gun and made it outside, they were already driving away, a glimpse of Alicia in the backseat of their truck. And to make things worse, a few of our people were either injured or shot dead.

It angered me, but mostly I felt disappointment at the fact that we'd come full circle yet again. Alicia had seemed different earlier today, like she actually wanted this to work. So, why had she broken out of here, hurting my people in the process?

My fault for believing her, I suppose.

Of course, this didn't bode well with my dad, and understandably so. However, I certainly didn't expect him to send Ofelia undercover there, under the guise that she'd been thrown out, when in fact she was there solely to poison their militia with anthrax. As soon as she returned, that was when I found out. I worried about what was going on with her, since I didn't even know she'd left, but she was distracted.

"Ofelia, what the hell happened?" I asked worriedly, upon seeing her battered and bruised face. "Where have you been?!"

"The ranch," she answered angrily, though it wasn't directed at me. "I was supposed to make them sick. But he didn't tell me– it was fucking anthrax!"

"What are you talking about?" I said with confusion, trying to meet her flickering gaze. "Why were you at the ranch? What anthrax?"

And that's when she explained the plan, conducted by none other than my father. Except the catch was that it wasn't a little something to just weaken their militia, it was anthrax poisoning to kill as many of them as possible, and Ofelia didn't know until it was too late.

"Alicia didn't want to mess up this parley," she continued to explain. "Her mother used Troy to get her back because she was scared for her. It wasn't her fault. She still wants peace."

At this newfound information, I was surprised and also a little relieved because, stupidly enough, I still believed there was hope.

"And now her brother, Nick, is sick because of the anthrax," Ofelia finished guiltily. "And it's my fault."

I frowned, shaking my head. "It's not. You didn't know. He should've told you."

Not in the mood for my sympathy, Ofelia shrugged me off and walked away to be alone. And I only grew more frustrated at my father, ashamed at his manipulating tactics amongst his own people, all because of a vendetta.

Storming over to him in the greenhouse, I tried to keep myself calm, but it only irked me more when he tried to pretend everything was okay.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

Squeezing my fists together, I stared at him with disbelief. "Seriously? Am I okay?!"

Confused, he blinked. "Is that a no?"

"You lied to Ofelia about the anthrax!"

He sighed, like this was all a mild inconvenience. "I didn't want to. But it needed to be done. Someone had to weaken their militia."

"You don't get it, do you?" I asked with a glare. "This will never end. They killed our people. You poisoned theirs. They'll just keep coming back. It's a never ending cycle!"

"And I'll keep it going if it means getting justice for our people!" he finally snapped. "If it means protecting our home, taking back our land, then yes, I will keep going!"

I unclenched my jaw, exhausted already. "Wow. I hate to say it, dad, but maybe this just isn't worth it anymore. Maybe the ranch isn't worth it."

He frowned with frustration, about to retaliate and berate me no doubt, but our argument was conveniently interrupted by the sound of shouting in the distance. The two of us ran out to see what the commotion was, only to see some of our tipis on fire, along with ranchers driving around and shooting around.

"Defence, now!" my father ordered, and I immediately ran to grab the nearest gun before taking cover.

It wouldn't have made a difference though, as soon enough, a pickup truck belonging to the ranchers began to drive away with our reliquary in tow, one that contained many of our ancestor's belongings in one place. The only rancher who knew of its existence was Alicia, considering my father had shown it to her when she was here. Which only meant one thing.

She'd told them to steal it.

As predicted, this war was a constant back and forth and my dad was only seeking revenge, as usual. Once the ranchers had stolen our reliquary, they used it to try and negotiate peace with my father. But he was so angry that he declined and threatened them, giving them until nightfall to vacate the ranch. Instead, Alicia's mother, Madison Clark, did one even better. She offered us up Jeremiah Otto's head.

And that was how we negotiated a peace deal, where we could finally move back onto our own land, though sharing it with the ranchers.

It wasn't ideal, but if it meant no more bloodshed, and also no more Jeremiah, then my father was more than happy to accept. So, a handful of us began moving in.

Most of the ranchers seemed to accept it, but I couldn't personally be sure. I tried not to focus on that though, nor the clear divide between our people. Instead, I did what I did best. Gardening.

I was taking stock in the vegetable patches to see what was growing and what else could be planted when I heard someone approaching behind me. To my surprise, it was Alicia.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

I nodded awkwardly before returning my attention to the clipboard in hand. We hadn't properly spoken since the parley was broken, so I wasn't so sure where we stood with one another.

"So, it worked," she tried to make conversation, referring to the peace deal.

"Barely," I mumbled.

It went quiet, and if it weren't for the fact that her footsteps weren't heard, I could have believed she'd left.

"I didn't know they were going to come for me," she suddenly said, a hint of guilt in her voice. "My mother was worried."

I shrugged halfheartedly, but she felt the need to justify it, as if she cared what I thought.

"I didn't want more people to die."

Finally, I lifted my eyes to meet hers. "Nobody ever does. But when it's my people, it's just collateral, right?"

Her lips curved into a slight frown as she shook her head, and I really wanted to believe her. Desperately. Because she seemed genuine, and if she was, then this wouldn't be for nothing.

"Jeremiah is gone now," she reminded me. "This can be a fresh start."

I pressed my lips together, lowering my clipboard. "I know that. You know that. But what about the ranchers? His followers?"

"Most of them only want peace," she tried to reassure me. "They'll follow anyone who gives them a sense of safety."

I suppressed the urge to scoff. "I hope so."

"The only way to show them that is to be unified," she added.

I quirked a brow. "And how do you suppose we do that?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Work with me, not against me. Side by side. If our people see us working together, maybe they'll realise it's not a bad thing."

I exhaled quietly, impressed at her thinking. "That's a good idea." She nodded gratefully, and I continued, "But why? Why would you care? And why us?"

She ran a hand through her hair as she explained patiently, "I've already told you that I only want to keep my family safe, same as you. So, why not work together in that? You're the daughter of the leader of those the ranchers are learning to trust. They see you working with us, they'll ease up. I just know it."

It made sense what she was saying, and she'd never done anything to give me reason to distrust her. Best case scenario, we could truly establish peace. Worst case scenario, we didn't become friends. I couldn't see much to lose, so I gave in with a nod.

"Okay. I guess you're right, Alicia."

She began to smile, both hopeful and relieved. "Great. Maybe we can start with me giving you a rundown on what we're growing?"

I sighed, returning her smile, and it felt good to have a reason to smile again. "I– yeah. That would be super helpful actually."

#alicia clark #alicia clark x you #alicia clark x reader #alicia clark imagine #fear the walking dead imagine #fear the walking dead #ftwd imagine #ftwd #alycia debnam carey #feartwd

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just-a-strange-boy · 1 year

Text

better strangers - part 1

part 2 * part 3 * part 4

When you signed up for that anon hook-up service, you hadn't quite expected to meet such a handsome stranger.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), one night stand, sex with a stranger, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, Stephen being sinfully hot

A/N: told you this was coming... sorry about the ending, I'm evil. Stay tuned for the second part though ;)

You had been so convinced it would be easy.

Being here and waiting was however anything but. Even during check-in down by the bar, you had already begun second guessing your initial decision to do this, a fair amount of worries – which you maybe should have thought about before coming here – coming up and tormenting you just now.

What if you wouldn't like it after all? What if you couldn't go through with it? What if the stranger wouldn't be as open-minded as you needed them to be? What if he wasn't appealing, not great at this or just not nice? What if he was a creep?

It had been a silly idea.

You'd only been on the lookout for some fun when you signed up to that online platform.

Having heard about it from a friend, who had been very enthusiastic about the matching process and the anonymity it offered, you had decided to give into your own curiousity and checked the website in question.

Even just at first sight, it seemed to be a legit and serious platform, professional, rather progressive as well, LGBTQ+ friendly, allowing to pick from plenty of options when it came to preferences, guaranteeing a high success rate in getting your needs met to a T.

It was the guarantee you needed the most, because you were growing a little desperate, ever since breaking up with your boyfriend. You were disastrously horny, hadn't been fucked in a long while and wanted to look for a fun time to fulfill your sexual needs.

Unfortunately, you weren't forward or extroverted enough to put yourself out there on full display in a club. A regular dating app was out of question too. Well, sure – you could have chosen to check one of them out and perhaps still succeeded after a reasonable amount of time, but you didn't want to bother with the long process of messaging back and forth with people, until you'd find a potential match looking for the same as you did: one time thing, without strings attached.

The online platform your friend had suggested, made it so much easier. The name said it all.

One Night Strangers.

Signing up had been simple.

There was no need to put pictures or an actual name – since that was the point of remaining strangers. The online page just asked for a couple of details important for the matching process, such as age and gender, sexual orientation, usage of contraception or prep (absolutely mandatory), preferences and kinks, and a couple more boxes to click for additional information to ensure the most comfortable encounter.

You also had to choose which days of the week and which time of day would work best.

Checking the terms of agreement before finalizing the sign up (after all you wanted to be safe and make sure you hadn't misunderstood anything about the process), you had stumbled across the fact that the platform would determine the specifics of the encounter as soon as they had found a match. No need to even talk to the stranger. Perfect.

All you had to do, was to accept the match made and pay an estimated sum in advance that would cover the cost for the place you'd meet at. Encounters would apparently take place at a location partnered with the platform, where every participant would go through a discreet check-in shortly beforehand, meaning this was as anonymous as could get while also being as safe as possible.

Being fine with all of this, you had agreed and the platform had done what it apparently did best, matching you with someone in the New York area almost immediately: M37. That's all you knew. Well, besides the fact that your preferences seemed to align. And the where and when.

Friday, between 8-10pm, Lotus Laurea Bar, Room 12.

You hadn't harvested many doubts then, excited about the fast matching process and the fact you were meeting up with a person you didn't even know for the only purpose of getting laid.

It had been a silly idea, but you hadn't been averse to it by any means.

So of course, you had clicked the button to accept the match, paid the money, by no means a large sum, and found yourself at the Lotus Laurea Bar by Friday, shortly before eight.

The bar in question was a small, independent business with a handful of rooms and an adjoined LGBTQ+ nightclub. It wasn't a shifty or suspicious place at all, which was definitely a relief.

The check-in had been as easy and discreet as promised. The staff member had exactly known what you were here for as soon as you'd shown them the invoice on your phone.

They had been very respectful and considerate too, assuring you there was no need to worry about anything, while you'd been asked to sign a form of consent, confirming that you were of legal age and doing this out of your own will – a safety precaution you thought was fair, for legality alone.

Then they had simply slipped you the room key and told you that the stranger you'd been matched with was not here yet but would come up to the assorted room and knock as soon as he arrived.

So you headed up to the designated room 12 and made yourself ready for some dreadful waiting.

The accommodation was actually quite nice, especially considering you had paid so little for it. The room was small, sure, didn't have any windows, but smelled fresh. Everything was clean and neat, looked comfortable and you were convinced you could try relaxing for a moment here, though the loud music from the club downstairs ruined the quietness.

The ambient light however was lovely, a dark blue hue filling out the room.

The bed was somewhat medium-sized – more than enough for one person, a little small for two people sleeping comfortably in it – but since you didn't think you'd get tempted to cuddle with a stranger after sex anyways, it suited the cause well enough. On the nightstand there was everything provided that might be necessary – lube as well as condoms.

There was a bathroom included too, which you used right away, trying to fight your own nervousness as you took another shower after already having thoroughly cleaned yourself at home.

But that was the thrill of fucking a stranger, wasn't it? Not knowing what you'd be in for. Not knowing what to expect. It was just normal to experience a bit of nerves, right?

You certainly had plenty of them.

Because what if the stranger changed their mind and wouldn't come? Were you just meant to wait until ten, go home with money wasted and still underfucked? What if you would change your mind last second and flee in a rush, before M37 could even get here? Was the promised guarantee really that high? Would it be good and worth it?

Perhaps hooking up at the club downstairs after getting plastered with a few drinks would have been a lot easier to handle. They'd still all be strangers to you. But you would have had to approach them and that definitely wasn't your thing.

Besides that, you had gone through all the effort already, having showered and cleaned yourself literally everywhere. The idea was still tempting, if a little frightening.

Though in the end, you were probably just worrying for nothing. What's the worst that could happen? If you didn't like the sex, you could just say so. You could say No. Certainly the stranger would understand, after agreeing to the same terms and signing the same form of consent as you had. If you didn't like the overall experience, you would never have to do it ever again afterward.

A sudden knock to the door sent your heart rate sky-rocketing.

You waited, swallowing down your nervousness, your heart almost springing out of your chest at the sudden awareness and realization that this was totally gonna happen now.

For the flicker of a moment you were afraid of getting seriously panicky, but it was more so the rush of excitement and anticipation than the threat of a breakdown – so you tried the very best to get your shit together and took a deep breath. Brace yourself. You were going to do this.

“Come in”, you replied timidly to the knock, unsure whether you should have gotten up to greet the stranger at the door instead of sitting here on the bed. Wearing nothing but the towel from showering earlier on, part of you had also wondered whether to just get on hands and knees, waiting in the most useful position to get fucked, no need for any foreplay and introductions and such.

You figured it didn't really matter though and remained right there, expectant and curious and awfully nervous.

The door opened and the stranger stepped inside.

The ambient light was a little too dark to make out how he actually looked from the distance, but M37 seemed to be exactly that (a man, in his thirties) and more. Lean. Long legs. Dressed in a damn suit.

He carefully closed the door behind him and moved further towards the bed, and therefore also towards you.

There was an immediate unexpected tension in the air between the two of you, hard to deny. It wasn't awkward by any means. If anything, it was incredibly hot, the way he was slowly stepping in your direction, his full attention on you already, not a single word spoken because there was no need.

The stranger was enticing, pulling you in with his mere presence, dominating the scene and grasping all of your attention – you could feel your heart hammer even more, finding it hard to breath for a moment, and were eager to catch a good look at him when most of the distance had already been crossed.

With the stranger now closer to the source of light, you could make out how truly handsome he was. Definitely a lucky match. He was more than you had hoped for. Downright hot as fuck. There was something peculiar about his face, all sharp angles, from his smooth jawline to his high cheekbones, curved and full lips that were very tempting, his intense eyes, pupils blown wide with lust as he stared back down at you.

It suddenly made you feel very small sitting on this bed before him.

You weren't sure whether to talk to him, didn't know whether you should ask questions about how you wanted to do this or what the man was going to prefer to do first. Was it fair to ask how to start? Perhaps he would set the tone? It would be more than fine if he told you what to do.

As you looked him over, you wondered whether the stranger had any experience with anonymous hook-ups like this. Maybe he had. He didn't seem as nervous as you, carrying himself so self-confident, unashamed, coming to stand before you, eyes mustering you for a long moment, before he moved again.

Bringing his hands up to cup your face in them – large, warm hands – and letting the tension reach enormous heights, he eventually bent down to your level and leaned in real close.

His hot breath was lingering against your lips for a moment and he was just waiting, knowing it might rile you up and put you on edge, all while he hadn't even really done anything.

As he pressed his lips to yours, whatever barrier might have been between you (and in your head for that matter) just broke.

Since you had most certainly ticked the box for “kissing” in the sign-up process, it hadn't been entirely unexpected – and weren't you just glad you had!

Even though the stranger's lips were soft, he wasn't primarily gentle, kissing you hungrily, demanding you submit to him, claiming your mouth, tongues entwining, teeth clashing, and you found yourself getting aroused by the sudden attention.

Trying to waste as little time as possible, you slung your arms around the man's broad frame, pulling him forward and onto you, shuffling to get settled on the bed with him. Apparently that didn't need any words either. It was as if your bodies already knew what to do, slotting perfectly together.

The stranger was very careful not to crush you, holding his own weight without struggle, as he continued licking into your mouth, and to no surprise began grinding against you not long after, his sizable bulge brushing your thigh that was barely covered by a bit of towel, shooting another surge of raw arousal through your body.

Okay, maybe this had been a good idea after all. Because wasn't he just great? The platform had assigned you the perfect stranger. Handsome, a good kisser, hungry to devour all of you.

You were already dying to get fucked by him, who so passionately kept your mouth occupied, swallowing your little moans and whimpers right away, feasting on them, letting them urge him on.

Easing your grip around him, your hands moved along the collar of the man's dress shirt and you began busying yourself with opening the buttons one by one, hoping he would get the drift immediately. You needed to get him out of his clothes! And since you already were only in a towel, it was fair that you got to see him as well.

Upon breaking away, as the stranger peeled himself out of his shirt, you used to perfect opportunity of checking him out, making out a sculpted and trained torso. Of course, he looked handsome under his clothes as well!

Seemingly taking good care of himself, you wouldn't have been surprised if he had an entire row of people waiting, trying to get with him, looking like that.

So why do it like this, was the question that arose, taking the sight in, as the stranger stood back up, toeing his shoes and peeling his socks off.

Middle-aged and attractive, clearly confident enough and open to anything, he could have gotten laid anywhere. Perhaps he was in it for the thrill, liking the anonymity.

There was something oddly exciting about having sex with a stranger, you couldn't deny it, so maybe he was just in it for the general experience, like you.

Figuring that the stranger's reasoning was technically none of your concern – he was here to fuck after all, just like you, anything else didn't matter, and it was nothing personal either – you shuffled back up as well, coming to sit on the edge of the bed again as he stood before you.

You looked up at the stranger then and checking that he had his eyes fixated on you, you reached forward, your hands landing on the fine leather belt, of course only accidentally brushing the bulge he was sporting, giving him more than just a suggestive look.

The man took in a deep breath, but hummed in agreement, patiently waiting as you went to unbuckle his belt and mercifully free him from the restraint of his fine trousers, leaving his prominent erection covered by only his underwear.

God, the fact he was able to keep up par to your eye-contact, while clearly achingly aroused, told you more than you could have figured out by questioning him. He was able to keep himself restrained, looked as stoic and composed as before. He was prepared for this and feeding off the moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as you squeezed his hardening cock through the remaining fabric, continuing to keep your gazes locked as you leaned forward to bring your mouth to his clothed erection.

As composed as he was, you could hear the man's breath stuttering then, running your lips along the hard outline of his cock, and you couldn't help but to grin at his reaction. You didn't want to tease him for too long though, pulling the waistband of his underwear down, the throbbing erection springing free, practically begging to be sucked off – and you wanted. His cock looked delicious. You needed to taste him.

There still weren't any words necessary between the two of you and obviously, you currently would have rather liked to keep your mouth busy otherwise anyways, grabbing the base of the stranger's cock firmly as you placed small licks around the cockhead, lapping up the precome oozing from his tip, eyes still locked together.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, pretty boy?”, he asked. Damn.

Now you were the one to feel your own breath hitch in the back of your throat now, stopping your advances as you heard the man speak altogether, for the first time, his voice low and smooth, his words filthy and promising. He sounded so fucking hot, you could have probably drowned in the low grumble.

“Yes”, you responded in a whisper, mouth returning to his cock, tongue swirling around the tip once more, before wrapping you lips around him again, taking in as much of him as you could, struggling to breathe in deep through your nose, trying not to lose eye contact with him.

Pulling back, you pressed your tongue up to the underside of his throbbing member, savoring the taste of the man, feeling your own lust coiling tightly in your core. He was intoxicating.

The stranger didn't speak another word, his large hands coming to gently hold onto your head at first, before his grip tightened possessively, urging your mouth off his cock, pulling your head back hard by grabbing a fistful of your hair – and then, he guided your head forward again, easing himself into your mouth once more, careful at first and for another few times, eyes never leaving the sight.

You welcomed him in each time, opening wide, ready to be used as the stranger sank his cock deep into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, where you felt your own body protesting, muscles tightening, gagging around him, before releasing you again, pulling back out. Your gag reflex wasn't as shy as you would have needed it to be right now, but even that didn't seem to irritate the stranger, tightly holding onto your head as he thrust into you mouth again, not quite as deep, aware of your response.

Like the good little slut you were, you gladly accepted his advances, sucking on him hard, moving your tongue along the throbbing flesh, and the stranger fucked your mouth exactly like he had promised, using you just like you had wanted him to, leaving little opportunity to catch your breath. He groaned loudly when you tried to take him deeper down your throat again.

The thrusts slowed eventually, allowing you to regain more control of the situation – you were as relentless as he was, insistent on serving him well, reaching up to gently caress his balls, your other hand wrapping around the base of his cock again, sucking him hard into your mouth yet another time.

“I'd love to come down your throat, but if you want me to fuck you, you need to stop”, the stranger spoke up again, holding your head still for a moment, his eyes piercing deep into your soul.

“Can't go twice?”, you wondered, having pulled back from his cock altogether.

“We don't have all night”, the stranger shrugged it off and almost tenderly, he gave you a little shove, urging you to shift further back on the bed, while stepping out of his own pants before joining you there.

You weren't protesting, making yourself comfortable as you lay back into the pillows. The towel around your waist had come apart in the meanwhile and you mindlessly shoved it down to the floor – it was just a nuisance at this point – unashamed to present yourself to the other man, knowing there was no way to save your dignity anyways.

You knew the stranger's eyes were raking over you, watching you in the soft light, naked and wanting and spreading your legs for him – and he seemed entirely unperturbed about it.

“I'm sure your holes can please me just as well”, he mused then, crawling towards you on the bed, his throbbing hardness, wet with spit, brushing your thighs as he covered you with his weight, unashamed to bring your mouths together again.

And you had no doubt he would please you just as well, pressing your hips upwards into him, begging for more, aching for it just as much. You didn't want to wait any longer, couldn't, wanted to have this hard and throbbing cock inside of you, let him fuck you all the way to next Sunday.

“Patience”, the stranger scolded you, shifting a little again to reach for one of the condom wrappers provided on the bedside table, preparing himself with swift movements, and not wasting any more time, returning to your body and eager to give you what you both wanted.

You sucked in a deep breath with absolute anticipation as the stranger aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing his hardness over your wet folds, smacking it against your small nub you were proud to call your own cock. He was teasing you, obviously, because he could, all while his eyes never broke your gaze.

Patience got a whole new meaning as the stranger continued to toy with you, the tip of his cock barely pushing into you, just nudging your hole like a promise that was seemingly never going to come true at this rate – and you were absolutely about to complain, though didn't have to after the stranger gave into your wordless pleas, hands gripping your hips hard, burying himself fully into your tight heat.

You groaned at the sudden intrusion. Blowing him had gotten you so needy and wet that you had been able to take him in without any issue, the large cock was stretching you out so nicely and you were more than happy to keep the stranger in place between your legs, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to reconnect your mouths as the man started to move inside of you.

Honestly, either way would have been perfectly fine with you. He could have fucked you roughly and quickly, destroying you with sharp thrusts – or he could have taken you slowly and deeply, painfully teasing you and dragging out your encounter.

It would be good. It would be perfect.

The stranger made sure to keep switching the rhythm and pace, playing with your patience because he could, taking his own pleasure but also making sure that you would have a good time. Even though you were nothing to each other, he handled you with so much care, fucking you with a passion, precise thrusts that sent hot flashes up your spine and sparks of arousal through your entire body.

Your mouths mingled together, seemingly melting into one another, bodies entwined, sharing each others breath and pleasure like you had done this many a times before.

Your feverish kissing broke after a while, both of you sweaty messes, groaning and moaning into each others mouths, chasing your ecstasy and enjoying your lust-driven high together.

Holding onto the stranger with a tight grip, your arms and legs kept him in place – you certainly weren't going to let him go now – as you got railed into the mattress, driven closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm so close”, you moaned, brain turned into putty, intoxicated by the stranger and every thought gone, except one - you wanted him to go on. “Please. Don't stop now.”

Your soft whimpers and pleas seemed to only encourage him, the rhythm changing, slow and deep, cock filling you out to the brim, both of you breathing hard, gazes drawn to each other, neither of you capable of looking away.

“You're gonna come on my cock like a good slut, hm?”, the stranger groaned, drawing out the last thrusts painfully slow, eager to sent the two of you over the edge.

A hard shudder surged through your body, a sudden ease to all the tension building, your core throbbing, your walls clenching around the stranger, who was continuing to move inside of you, fucking you all the way through both of your orgasms.

You had felt him tense up, his body trembling as he too had tripped over the edge, and only then did your eye contact break. He closed his eyes, enjoying the overwhelming feelings all the way through his orgasm – and so did you.

Tired out, breathing hard, entirely overrun by the intensity of your orgasms, you had come to lay side by side.

You felt awfully empty without the stranger's cock inside of you and maybe, just maybe, if your stamina allowed for it and you dared to ask for it, you'd let him fuck you another time – if he wanted to stay around, of course.

You couldn't really ask just yet. Even after catching your breath, the words seemingly got stuck in your throat. Looking back over at him, you marveled at the handsome stranger, eyes still closed, little huffs escaping his parted lips, his toned chest heaving and sinking again, cock now nestled flaccid and satiated against his thigh, condom filled with his semen.

Some little part of you wondered. Who was he? What was his name? What did he do in his every day life? What else was there to him, besides the fact that he was an exceptionally good lay? Why was he pursuing a one night stand like this?

It took a moment until the man regained his previous composure and began to stir again, sitting up on the bed. He turned towards you, addressing you so casually, like he hadn't just pounded you into the mattress. “That was fun. Really needed this”, he spoke, his voice calm, not an ounce of the raw filthiness from earlier left, “Never been with a trans man before, but my, my... I got lucky to get someone as gorgeous as you.”

“You're quite the handsome stranger yourself”, you replied with a grin, positively flattered by his compliment.

The man smiled back at you before he got up from the bed. “Mind if I have a quick shower?”, he asked politely, circling the bed to where he had lost his clothes, picking them up from the floor.

“No, you...uh... can take your time... I'd... uh... you could stay around for a second round though, if you wanted to?”, you spoke shyly, finally daring to make the request.

The stranger seemed to consider your suggestion for a moment, then plucked a phone out from the pile of clothing, apparently checking the time. “Shit, it's late already”, he cussed, giving you an apologetic look, “Sorry, I can't. Technically I wouldn't be opposed to another round, but... I really need to get going.”

“Oh, okay”, you shrugged, obviously a little disappointed, but you weren't going to throw a fit about it, pulling the rumpled blanket over your form instead, not because you needed to hide any of your nakedness in front of the stranger, but even more so because you were getting a little cold without his body warmth and the heat of sex.

“Thanks for the fuck though”, you made sure to let him know, an awkward smile rising up to your lips.

The stranger shot you another smile too, before turning into the bathroom and taking, as announced, a very quick shower, returning to the room mere minutes later, all dressed up again, prim and proper.

Part of you had expected him to just say his goodbyes and leave, perhaps even not say anything to you at all since you were nothing to one another, but then he walked over to the bed again, leaned down to you and pressed a soft but unexpected kiss to your lips.

“How did you put it? Thanks for the fuck”, the stranger chuckled, “Goodbye, handsome. Was nice meeting you.”

Thus, you parted like you had met – as strangers, knowing nothing about each other except the way you looked, the way you felt, the way you liked to fuck, under the clear impression you would never get to meet each other ever again.

And then your sister introduced Stephen Strange to you – her colleague from the hospital, the man she was dating and the stranger who had fucked you.

#k writes #doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #marvel fanfiction #doctor strange smut #surgeon strange #x ftm reader #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange x you

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