#and i just saw my actual bus drive away

[redwidow616]

I'm gonna fucking kms i forgot one of the replacement buses only drives one station before it loops back, i just wasted even more time

[wooskirbyplushie]

Our Little Secret ~ K.HJ

✰ idol!hongjoong x fan!reader where the guys catch hongjoong not so secretly slip a paper into your hand at a fanmeet

✰ word count: 3.6k

✰ warnings: some cussing (nothing crazy), pet names (love), female!reader, glasses!hongjoong cuz that’s enough to drive me insane tbh, she/they pronouns used for reader

✰ a/n: hey so i randomly got this idea one day and decided to execute it lol. tbh im not sure if i’ll keep updating this or not just because it was only supposed to be a little drabble but im 87% sure i’ll continue it just so my friends don’t hold me at gunpoint to finish it��😭

✰ italics are used for inner thoughts, bold italic is just to emphasize words, also don’t pay attention to the timestamps for the texts later on k that’s it

dividers are created by @cafekitsune tysm !

you were late, you were so late, and you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself.

today has been marked in your calendar for almost 2 months, the day that ateez finally had a fanmeet in your city. you had saved up for the event for so long that when they announced it you didn’t hesitate to snatch your card out of your wallet to buy tickets for you and your best friend, kaylani.

but today you completely fucked your schedule up. oversleeping was not in your plans and neither was having to iron your outfit and rush to catch the train, just for it to delay for 15 minutes. in addition to the 5 minute bus ride from the station turning into a 30 minute walk because the bus you and your friend needed to catch didn’t run that day. who knew?

by the time you finally got to the venue, security were already trying to lock up the doors. i mean, it made sense considering they started meeting fans almost two hours ago.

“hey!!” kaylani shouted to try and get the guards attention. one of them looked up, utter confusion on his face as he watched two young girls jogging at them from across the parking lot.

“please we- we have tickets. the train made us late, but we cannot miss this event” you breathed out as fast as possible, trying to catch your breath at the same time. lani shuffled around for her phone to pull up the virtual tickets before the guards shrugged and scanned both tickets to let you in. “you girls either have really incredible or really horrible timing” one of the guys commented and told you to have fun.

you both squealed the second you got inside.

following the arrows and signs, you reached the auditorium that ateez was having their fanmeet in. now usually, fanmeets had a show in the first half and the actual meet in the second. but thankfully this time around it was swapped, meaning you guys didn’t miss any of the actual show. would it possibly be delayed because you were late? ehhh you’d cross that bridge when you got to it.

“we’re really here holy shit that’s ateez 20 feet away from us-“ you started rambling before lani cut through your thoughts with another squeal. she saw her bias, that had to be the only reason

“ITS JONGHOOO AHHHH”

“wow kaylani, it’s almost like he’s in the grou- AHHH LOOK ITS HONGJOONG”

kaylani rolled her eyes and mocked you. “wow y/n it’s almost like he’s in the group.” touché.

it wasn’t long before you realized they had changed quite a bit for this fanmeet. for example, the boys weren’t sitting in age order, or what you and lani called “fanchant order”. jongho was first and hongjoong was last, which didn’t really matter, but you knew your heart would race more and more as you got closer to your bias.

joong was your ult bias and had been for 4 years. you loved all of the members (duh) but the thought of possibly holding that man’s hand sent you over the moon. sure he held other girls hands, but this was gonna be your moment.

“bro. bro we’re next” kaylani whisper shouted while gripping your shoulder.

“unhand me you fein- oh god that’s jongho like he’s real.”

“RIGHT THATS THE CHOI JONGHO. 4TH GEN VOCALIST AHHHH” if you couldn’t tell she was a jongho ult before, it was super evident now. and because of that, you let lani go first.

******

if she could’ve, kaylani would’ve talked jongho’s ear off for 40 minutes. luckily he seemed intrigued by what was being said, laughing and giggling along with your friend. and now you wish you went first instead.

eventually she moved to wooyoung and was out-yapped, while you talked to jongho, really just telling him all of your favorite runs and verses he had. then you moved down again, and again, got to san and almost forgot your morals. he had you giggling for your life and the blush on your face was impossible to hide. he was THE ateez flirt.

but you and kaylani kept moving. to be real, since you were the last people in the room, there was no real rush but you decided to be mindful of the boys time.

yunho and yeosang were adorably nerdy and a hint of shy in real life, seonghwa really knew how to catch you off guard. one second you were talking about his lego collection and the next he was spewing out compliments and grabbing your hand. you tried to turn your face to hide your blush again, but you turned right into hongjoong’s direction and almost screamed. he was staring at you, and hard. what you hadn’t realized was kaylani whispering how much you “loved him” and how he was your “ultimate bias and first choice for a husband.”

yea you were either gonna go back to jongho and tell him how she brought his photocard to prom, or you were going to murder her.

you finished with seonghwa and slowly moved to hongjoong while lani stood off to the side and snuck a few pictures. “so. i’m your ult huh?” hongjoong questioned, arms folded across his chest.

you gulped, “y-yea you’ve always stuck out to me,” your voice came out in a whisper. hongjoong chuckled and leaned forward a bit.

“i’m your ult but you have no problem flirting with san and seonghwa in front of me, yea?”

“i don’t see the difference between that and you holding a bunch of fans hands, flirting with them.”

your mouth worked faster than your brain could, and you regretted it the second you finished the sentence, slapping your hand over your mouth.

hongjoong tilted his head and raised an eyebrow over the rim of his glasses. god he looked good in glasses. “quite the mouth on you…”

“y/n” you finished his sentence.

“y/n..” he trailed off like he was letting your name marinate on his tongue. “really pretty name for a really pretty person”

now you were really blushing. you didn’t care if it was fan service, he was servicing the hell out of you and you were eating it up. “thank you joong..” and he smirked in return.

******

you talked for a while (ok like 5 minutes) praising joong just like you did all the other members. he asked you what your favorite songs were, and san jumped in when he heard you mention desire. “honestly such a hater, desire is a masterpiece!!” you exclaimed as the top desire defender in tinyville. joong and san laughed before san walked off backstage and hongjoong picked up his sharpie, doodling while you talked.

you just kept going, your level of yapping surpassing kaylani while she was talking to jongho. hongjoong was eating it up though, especially when you started listing your favorite rap verse from him, even saying you could tell an ateez song by his signature giggle.

“it’s a bit embarrassing but i’ve listened to the songs so much that i just know? your music saved me, genuinely.” you trailed off before joong grabbed your hand.

“i honestly think it’s adorable.” he replied with a genuine smile. his smile was warm and bright, like lights on a christmas tree in december. you were soon brought back to reality when a guard told joong he had to wrap up with you so they could move on to the show. he nodded while messily writing something on a small piece of paper with his non dominant hand, still holding your hand with his other.

“well i guess this is goodbye, y/n. it was really nice talking to you and your friend” joong said, subtly crumbling a paper up in his hand before going to slip it into your own.

you weren’t dumb, you played like you didn’t even realize, following along with his skit. “it was really nice to meet you joongie,” you replied with a soft smile before you both got up and walked in your respective directions.

******

“you aren’t slick joong, i saw that.” san whispered while the group got dressed for the next part of the show. he was putting on a school boy uniform, adjusting the blue tie that went with it. hongjoong sat next to him, tying the shoes that he swapped into.

“doesn’t matter if you saw it, managers didn’t see it.” he responded with a shrug. joong knew him getting caught would mean having to change his number and most likely block you if you ever reached out to him, but in his head it was worth the risk.

“if i saw it, how do you know they didn’t see it captain?”

“because i waited till they turned around. and to be honest, i don’t care if they saw. i liked her.”

“liked who?” wooyoung asked as he walked over to steal san’s cologne. “because if you mean the last two people that came in, i don’t blame you! the last one was extremely pretty..”

joong just shot wooyoung a side eye before grabbing his phone, letting out a small sigh at the sight of no notification from you. he thought you guys had a little connection, right? then again-

“she probably just thought you were servicing her. ya know, your job.” san said stiffly, fixing a few stray strands of hair. joong clicked his phone off and threw it to his side with a slight head shake. maybe san was right, you probably didn’t look much into it considering it was his job to service his fans. maybe the managers did see him and they took the paper after you were out of joong’s sight. he was getting stressed over a girl he just met and even though his friends were talking to him in logic, hongjoong refused to learn that language.

he let out another small sigh before ruffling his hair and clapping his hands together to gather the group to get on stage. he had to clear his mind so he could perform. “alright guys let’s do this. hana dul set,”

“fightingggg!!” the boys yelled in unison and cheered, hyping each other up for what was to come. one by one, the boys started leaving the dressing room to take their places in the wings of the stage curtains.

seonghwa made sure everyone made it out, before looking back to see hongjoong lagging behind. “you coming bub?” joong looked at hwa, then his phone on the couch, and back to hwa before sending him a quick nod and walking out the door.

he’d be able to make it through the show.. right?

******

“soooo we’re just gonna ignore what happened back there? you know i saw that right love?” kaylani pressed you while fixing her lip gloss, making you jump out of your thoughts.

“what happened?? we just had a normal conversation!”

“normal my ass. you talked for like five minutes and then KIM HONGJOONG SLID YOU HIS-“

you slapped your hand over her mouth. you were in the empty bathroom but there was no reason to take any chances of a manager, or even worse, a fan overhearing and reporting back to one. “kay, i love you. dearly. but please lower your voice love…”

she sighed behind your hand and obliged before complaining about you smudging her lip combo. you rolled your eyes and pulled the crumbled sheet of paper from out of your jacket pocket to show your friend. the numbers were a bit wayward, but joong was writing with his left hand so it was understandable. he somehow still managed to make it legible enough for you to understand though.

“it’s his kakao talk im assuming. i still have the app from when you and i had to use it when i was in seoul.”

“do you know for sure it’s his number ?”

“of course i don’t know for sure kay, im trying not to lose my mind right n-“

“text it.”

that may have seemed like the obvious answer but you were still extremely nervous about getting caught. and the idea of getting caught by a manager was still circling around in your brain. “there’s a chance that he’s waiting for your text ya know. just text it and see.” kaylani finished with a shrug, her lips popping as she finished up her lip combo. you took a deep breath before shakily grabbing your phone and opening your kakao talk.

what were you even going to say ? hi ? that sounded basic but there really wasn’t much else to do. there was no reason to say your full name because, well, what if it wasn’t truly him ? lani must’ve gotten bored of watching you stare at your phone without typing anything because after a few seconds your phone was in her hands as she drafted up and sent a message for you.

“KAYLANI !???”

“it’s fine, i just said hey and that it was the girl from the fanmeet. unless he’s going around giving his number out to every pretty girl like a whore, he’ll know it’s you.”

she handed your phone back to you before throwing her hands on your shoulders and flashing you a slight smile. “it’ll be fine ok? now let’s go watch our boys do the utmost embarrassing shit!”

you nodded in response and stepped out of the bathroom to make your way to your seats.

now what your best friend didn’t know when you bought your tickets was that you saved enough for front row. and the surprise was pretty evident by the screech she let out once you dragged her to the seats in front of the stage.

“no way no way we’re this close HOLY- y/n forget hongjoong will you please marry me???”

you just laughed and playfully pushed lani towards her seat, “get off of me and sit down goofball.”

******

“2 minutes to showtime!!”

the lights were dimming as the members stood in the wings of the stage, mic packs being adjusted and pinned onto the boys. wooyoung was humming some vocal warmups to himself before he walked over to hongjoong. “jeez captain, lighten up. you look like yeosang told you that hwa was his favorite hyung and not you…”

hongjoong jumped, unnoticeable to wooyoung, and scoffed in response to his statement. “please, as if that would ever happen.”

“ah you’re right. you look like your mom told you that bumjoong is the favorite child.”

“is there a point to your escapades or do you just enjoy annoying me?”

a look of fake hurt flashed across wooyo’s face in response, “ouch. you must really be missing your pretty girlfriend to talk to your best friend like that joongie.”

hongjoong spun towards wooyoung and gave him, yet another, death glare. “keep your voice down are you insane ? listen, we have a job to do, get focused on that.” and with that he stormed back to his place on stage. just take a few breaths and it’ll be fine… no reason for you to snap on your members.

“places guys; 10 seconds!”

he didn’t think it was possible, but that 10 seconds was both the longest and shortest time of hongjoong’s career. he knew you were in the crowd, he knew he had to do his best just for you. but what he wasn’t expecting when he scanned the crowd was to make direct eye contact with you and your friend in the front row.

oh he was soooo fucked.

so fucked that hwa had to elongate his intro and improvise an extra end part to get joong to snap out of his daze.

“ah i’m sorry, i got caught up looking at all of our beautiful atiny! hi guys, my name is kim hongjoong, captain of ateez!!”

the crowd seemed to take it well, i mean his job was fan service. but in truth, he was lying, he was only looking at you. and to his surprise, you were looking back; in fact he could feel your eyes on him frequently, and anytime he didn’t it was just because you and your friend were laughing together.

hongjoong kept finding himself on your side of the stage, often sending you flirty glances and winks during his verses; and god you were eating it up. not to mention how obsessed he was with getting you to smile. unfortunately for him though, he had to give that same energy to everyone for his actions to not be so obvious. even more unfortunately for him, san and wooyoung were on his ass the entire time, which caused seonghwa to send suspicious glances joong’s way. fuck.

hwa approached joong halfway through the show, once they were offstage during yunho and mingi’s unit performance. “fess up, why are you clinging to one side of the stage and why do you keep zoning out?? it’s not a good look and it’s making us look unorganized on stage.“

hongjoong just toyed with the hem of his sleeve in silence. to be honest he was trying to focus but he was drunk on the thought of being able to make you smile. there wasn’t anything he could say to get hwa off of his back, so he opted for a shrug.

“are you not feeling ok? you should’ve said something beforehand joong-“

“i’m fine.” please just drop it…

“fine.” hwa started, preparing his mic to get back on stage. the irritation was evident in his actions, but his voice was still soft. “but you’re the leader, just know this shit is on your shoulders if management says something.”

hongjoong just nodded in response, following seonghwa’s actions in fixing his mic. “that’s 50,000 won for calling me leader and not captain by the way.” he retorted with a smirk before running back on stage to meet the audience’s cheers.

******

“okay atiny, you guys enjoying the show?” yeosang asked, receiving a loud roar of approval from the crowd.

“i take that as a yes! but unfortunately…” jongho started his sentence, and atiny realized that the show was coming to an end. “hey hey we don’t want to leave either, but we have one more performance for you guys! are you ready??”

the rest of the guys were set up on a prop couch for the last song, each of them holding a red or white rose, as they waited for jongho to join them. once he did, the speakers started playing the instrumental of seventeen’s “ready to love” and seonghwa started off the cover, the crowd going insane.

eventually the boys got to the ending and handed out (or really threw) their roses to people in the crowd. and to no one’s surprise, hongjoong sat on the edge of the stage and handed his white rose to you, his fingers gliding over yours during the hand off, causing a goofy smile to take over your face with a light pink blush. kaylani teased you after making sure to get the entire interaction on video, you simply rolling your eyes and covering the camera in response. joong winked before getting up to join the members for their final bow and go back to their green room.

“thank you atiny!! we’ll be back soon” san yelled as the curtains closed and yunho and mingi peaked out to wave one last time.

******

hongjoong was the first one back in the room, his mind filled with your smile and whether or not you texted him. he loosened his tie and jogged over to the couch where he left his phone, anxious but also eager. but when he heard the members following close behind, joong grabbed his phone and rushed to the bathroom; mostly to avoid being teased by wooyoung, reprimanded by seonghwa, and shamed by san.

“you ok captain?” mingi asked from the other side of the door. “you left kinda in a hurry..”

“y-yea i’m fine, drank a lot of water earlier.”

mingi just shrugged it off with a low “okay” and went back to the other members, hongjoong letting out a small breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. he clicked his phone on and surprisingly saw a kakao notification from an unsaved contact. hongjoong’s face lit up brighter than his phone screen as he opened the app to reply.

but wait. was it you or a stalker?

did someone else possibly see the paper he gave you?

was he overthinking? yes. but most of it seemed logical.

joong sighed before he reread your message.

?: hey

?: it’s the girl from the fanmeet

still he had to confirm it was you.. and he had a pretty decent idea of how to do it.

joongie: really? then say something i said to you earlier

joong figured you would take a while to write back but you actually replied right away.

?: “really pretty name for a really pretty person”

joongie: i’m glad you texted me y/n :)

he just smiled at his phone, thinking of what to text you next. should he ask to facetime you maybe? should he flirt or was it too early for that? joong’s mind had a million tabs open at once but he really wanted to live in the current moment-

until wooyoung decided to be obnoxious and bang on the bathroom door like the police.

“hey some of us actually have to pee ya know!”

open tab number one million and one, strangle jung wooyoung…

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (4)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: soft!regina, fluff, pining, LOTS of pining, regina is falling for the reader hard, reader is a gay mess, regina is a lesbian who’s terrible at emotions. (don’t get too used to fluffy chapters this is the calm before the storm…)

(this part 4 of the series, read part 3 here)

you end up replaying gretchen’s party in your head over the weekend. you can’t seem to stop thinking about the look in regina’s eyes when she saw you and dani talking. it was the angriest you’ve ever seen her, and then afterwards she just pretended as if it never occurred. yet it was engraved into your brain like a branded memory; permanently there for you to think about at night.

you couldn’t figure out why regina was so enthralled by you… if you could call it that. as you started to become more aware of what dani said on friday night, how you were regina’s “puppy”… it caused you to overthink a few things. this entire time you thought regina was getting closer to you all of a sudden because she enjoyed your company. now you feared it was because she just wanted some new pet to play with.

you and regina had developed a routine on the nights you couldn’t convince your parents to allow you to stay the night. she’d call you, and you’d talk for hours; sometimes till you fell asleep. though saturday night you used a flimsy excuse of being at your grandmas house; she new it was a lie. then on sunday, you barely texted her at all. she knew something was up right away, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

as soon as you walked out of your house to catch the bus on monday, regina’s jeep was parked on the side of the street. your heart immediately began to flutter as it usually does whenever you see the blonde. she rolls down her window, and you catch a glimpse of how gorgeous she looks. your legs have a mind of their own as you begin to walk up to her car, furrowing your brows. “don’t you usually pick up gretchen on mondays?” you question, and she shrugs, flashing you that colgate smile that makes your knees week. “she can take the bus. get in, loser.” she taunts you.

you can’t help but sheepishly smile as you get into her passenger side. “she’s gonna freak out. she was texting the group chat all weekend about how her parents found puke in her grandmas ashes.” you giggle, and regina lets out this strained laugh that isn’t her usual one. “yeah, i tried calling you but you were busy.” she grumbles, and you tense up slightly. “and you were dodging my texts. what gives?” she asks, as she begins to drive. she doesn’t turn on music like she usually does, only showing you how serious she is.

“i just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on friday.” you start cautiously, and she frowns, an agitated expression etching itself onto her features. “seriously? that fucking bitch deserved a slap, y/n.” she defends herself, and you flash her a look. “i’m not talking about the slap… i mean, i’m actually surprised you didn’t do worse.” you joke softly, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the air. regina lets out this tiny exhale; if it weren’t so quiet in the car you may not have heard it. that’s when you take in how wrought up she seems, as if she’s been stressing over something.

surely she wasn’t stressing over you avoiding her for two days… right?

“then what is it? why are you being weird?” she questions demandingly, sounding genuinely upset. “because i can’t stop thinking about what dani said!” you huff out, sounding the most frustrated she’s ever heard. upon seeing your exasperated demeanor, she calms down slightly. realizing something was actually wrong. “y/n, everything that loser said was bullshit—“ she starts, but you cut her off, “she was right though! i am such a different person now and it’s only been a month.” you counterpoint, causing her to bite her tongue.

regina hates to be interrupted, but she really enjoys you and whatever it is that’s budding between the two of you. she doesn’t want to lose it because some stupid jock said something at a lame party she only went to in order to save face. “and you don’t like who you are? you don’t enjoy the way we’ve been hanging out all the time?” regina questions, you shake your head. “i love spending time with you… but dani called me your puppy, gina. is that seriously what people think of me now? is that what you think of me?” you ask persistently.

the blonde shakes her head rapidly in disagreement. “i don’t think of you as my puppy… just because you have the qualities of one, doesn’t mean i consider you one.” she tells you, and you frown. “how do i have the qualities of a puppy?” you can’t help but ask, and she shrugs. “loyal, obedient, always happy to see me.” she flashes you that infamous smile, and you roll your eyes in response. “y/n, dani is just jealous because you’re hanging out with me and not her. she only said that to get under your skin, and clearly it worked.” she states, and your silence causes her to reach for your hand.

her touch sends shockwaves throughout your body. “don’t be angry at me over some comment a dumb jock made because you wouldn’t go into a basement with her.” she practically pleads, and you know it’s the closest thing you’ll get to any sort of comfort from regina george. “besides, don’t you like hanging out with me?” she questions, and you throw her a look that says “are you serious”. “of course i like hanging out with you, you’re like my favorite person.” you admit, and regina feels something tugging on the heartstrings she didn’t even realize she had.

“then stop listening to what anyone else says.” this sounds more like a command, so you find yourself nodding dumbly. your brain always goes fuzzy whenever she tells you to do something, and the only coherent thought is to do whatever regina says. god, maybe dani was right, you are regina’s puppy.

you walk into school with the blonde by your side. you’ve adjusted to the gawking students that ogle regina as she walks by. you really don’t blame them; ever since freshman year you’ve been one of those people who gaze at her in admiration. until now. regina’s strange interest in you hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else, and you’re now beginning to adjust to all the attention.

“please never make me take the bus again!” gretchen exclaims as she storms up to the both of you, and regina rolls her eyes. “i had to pick up y/n today. you’ll survive.” the blonde sounds unamused, causing gretchen to huff in response. “i already said i’m sorry, even though it’s totally not my fault i have a totally hot basement that makes people horny.” she says, and regina narrows her eyes at her friend. “we discussed this already. i’m going to be taking y/n to school from now on.” her tone is up for no disagreements, and you shake your head in protest. “it’s okay, gina. i don’t mind taking the bus—“ you start, but she cuts you off.

“i like picking you up. hush.” she shushes you quickly, and you try to ignore the way the back of your neck heats up. gretchen pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. as the three of you approach regina’s locker, karen bounces up to you guys. “did you guys here about the new girl who’s transferring here tomorrow?” she asks curiously, and regina quirks a brow in clear interest. “a new girl? why wasn’t i informed about this?” she questions, and karen shrugs. “i heard it from arnold who says he heard it from elizabeth g.” she explains, and the blonde presses her lips together tightly.

“a new student nobody bothered to tell me about… huh.” she says as she thinks about it for a moment. “she better be more interesting than the last new student we had. jeanette renolds is such a bore.” the blonde adds simply, and that’s that. the topic of the “new student” doesn’t come up again. at least not in front of you.

during lunch gretchen begins to talk about how close homecoming is, regardless of it being 3 months away. “you’re running for homecoming queen again, right regina?” gretchen asks, and regina glowers. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i?” she responds with a question, before looking at you. “are you going to vote for me to be homecoming queen?” she asks, her voice flirty and sweet. your cheeks flush under her gaze, “of course, i voted for you last year too, gina.” you confess, and this elicits a large smile from your favorite blonde.

“everyone voted for regina last year, and this year it’s not gonna change. i don’t even think you need a campaign manager this time either.” gretchen says, and regina rolls her eyes. “i am my own campaign manager, idiot. but i have y/n to help me with more stuff this year, like what color scheme i should go with.” she says suggestively, as her gaze flickers over to you. your eyes widen in slight panic, “what?? i can’t pick your color scheme! i’m terrible at picking out stuff. i mean, you chose my entire wardrobe.” you remind her, and she shrugs.

“don’t care. your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so we’ll start looking at dresses next week. for you too.” her tone is left for no debates, and you don’t really pay attention to anything past “your opinion is the only one that matters to me”. the heat rises to your neck and face, and regina’s grin deepens. “are we still hanging out after school, or are you bailing on me today again?” regina pointedly asks you, and you nod eagerly. “we can try that new pretzel place—“ regina cuts you off, “you’re so cute, i can’t do too many carbs but i’ll get you pretzels on the way to where i’m taking you.” she declares, and your eyebrows perk up.

before you can question the blonde the bell rings, “i’m not doing anything after school—“ gretchen tries to say but regina cuts her off. “i didn’t ask, and you weren’t invited.” she hisses, and gretchen huffs. nobody dares question why regina is so adamant on spending time with you; especially alone time. honestly, you’re a bit scared to ask her as well. not because you think she’ll be mean to you, regina is never mean to you, no, you’re just afraid you may mess up whatever this is.

you’re ashamed to admit regina has become the center of your universe. she takes up all the spaces in your brain, and you can’t even go an hour without thinking about her. you and regina end up hanging out after school as promised. you end up sitting in the passenger seat of her car, a medium sized lemonade in your hand along with your mini pretzel bites. regina steals glances at you every now and then; you contentedly hum along to the song that’s playing as you curiously gaze out the window.

the only thought that keeps circling her mind is how much she likes this. just being around you.

“are we going on a hike?” you ask your hundredth question, and regina groans. “no, i hate walking.” she reminds you, and you have this adorable expression on your face as you think about other possibilities. the further from town you get, the further your mind wanders. “the beach?” you ask, and she shakes her head. “nope; i hate getting sand in my shoes and car.” she deadpans, and you go quiet for another few seconds. “we’ve been driving for almost forty minutes… what time are we coming back?” you inquire, and regina rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“you already wanna leave me?” she responds with a question of her own, and you shake your head rapidly. “no! i love hanging out with you, i just gotta text my mom and let her know before we end up somewhere with no service.” you explain yourself, and regina pretends as if she’s thinking about it for a moment. “just tell your mom you’re gonna spend the night at mine.” she orders, and you flash her a look, “gina, i can’t spend the night on a monday.” you remind her, causing her to huff.

“fine, tell her i’ll have you home by ten-thirty.” she mutters begrudgingly, and you smile in satisfaction. you send the text to your mom right as regina turns onto another highway to leave town. “okay, now i’m really curious! please tell me where we’re going.” you sound more excited than before, and the eagerness in your voice tugs on the blonde’s heartstrings. “it’s just a little place i like to go when things are too much. todays like the first pretty day we’ve had in awhile, and i wanted to take you.” she reveals, causing something inside of you to melt.

“y-you wanna take me to your spot?” you sound genuinely stunned, and regina snorts. “duh, who else would i wanna bring there? gretchen talks too much, karen doesn’t know what’s going on half the time, and everyone else only hangs out with me because i’m “regina george”… it’s only natural for me to take my special girl to my special place.” she retorts easily, causing the blood to rise to your face. regina smirks as she notes how flushed your cheeks are; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of the affect she has on you.

“we’re almost there; finish your pretzels.” she commands, and you don’t have to be told twice.

the sun is nearly setting by the time you both pull into a secluded area off a random road in the middle of nowhere. you can’t help but wonder how regina knows about this place; how long she was driving to find it one day. as she drives further into a green grassy area full of trees, with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps in the tree lines. your eyes widen as she drives further, only going deeper into the beautiful woods.

you roll down your windows excitedly, “oh my gosh this place is so pretty!” you squeal tempestuously. regina tries not look at you in fear she may swerve and ram into a tree, but your sudden uncontrolled behavior causes her to smile widely. if anyone she knew were to see it, they would hell froze over. she’s glad you aren’t paying any attention to her, because you would’ve seen the unusually soft expression on her face. you turn to look at her, catching her grinning from ear to ear, “we haven’t even gotten to the really cool part.” she tells you, and your eyes enlarge as they gaze into her.

“cooler than a literal forest out of a picture book!?” you ask and she chuckles, “you’re way too easy to impress. i’m starting to think i could park behind the 7/11 with you for an hour and you’d have fun.” she murmurs, and you shrug as you look back out the window. “as long as it’s with you.” you say this so easily, and it causes her smile to fall. her expression morphs into a baffled one, and she can’t stop herself from wondering why... why do you enjoy being around her so much?

regina makes a slight turn, and you let out this breathless gasp as your eyes land on a creek with a waterfall. it isn’t big, but it’s beautiful. “oh my god… gina! this is so beautiful!” you shriek erratically and you unbuckle your seatbelt as you the car comes to a full stop. you run out, and her eyes widen, “hey! i said i hate walking!” she hisses, trying to sound angry but she can’t even recognize herself.

if the girls heard me right now, they’d never respect me again.

“come on, gina!!” you order her, and regina— the girl who never takes orders from anyone— sighs as she turns the car off and gets out. “look at how clear the water is!” your enthusiasm causes regina to approach you, and act as if she hasn’t already seen this place a hundred times before you. it looks different when you’re here… regina can’t seem to place why. she isn’t sure if she’ll ever enjoy coming here without you again, and she doesn’t care. all she can do is stare at how the light of the sunset reflects off your big, wondrous eyes.

“if i would’ve known you liked this place so much, i would’ve brought you here awhile ago. i just never thought of bringing anyone till now.” she admits softly, and your smile deepens, which is something she didn’t even think was possible. “you haven’t bright anyone else here?” you ask timidly, and she nods earnestly. “just you.”

her confession causes you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her abruptly. her eyes widen a bit; she’s never been the hugging type… yet as your delicate grasp tightens around her lovingly, in a way she’s never felt, she can’t help the way her stomach flutters pathetically. she hugs you back, and can feel you practically melt into her. you’re so happy, and it hits her that you’re happy because of her. she’s made people cry, yell, curse, and run in the opposite direction… but she’s never made anyone feel happy.

the fleeting thought alone terrifies her like nothing else ever has. regina george is falling in love with you, and she isn’t sure how to stop it.

a/n: please don’t hate me but tumblr wasn’t letting me tag some of your accounts 😭💔

taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehot0 @syddie-reads @slaysksmska @cas-is-weird-ig @scarlettbitchx @pianogirl2121 @puppy-danvers2016 @messsor @dmenby3100 @that-one-little-soybean

[heavyhitterheaux]

Hello

See Me Through You Series

You had me at hello

Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later

Series Masterlist

Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.

Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.

Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.

“What does your ugly ass want?” You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.

“If I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!”

“No, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.” You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.

It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.

You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.

“Y/N!”

“Just kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?”

“Little one? I'm 6’1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.”

You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.

Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.

So the rumors were true, he was really here.

Joe Burrow

Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.

“Ja'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.”

“I thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.”

“YOU CAN'T PROVE IT!”

“Hmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.”

“I threw them away.”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“Will you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.”

“Hmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.”

“Uh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!”

Click.

Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didn’t bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.

The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.

Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didn’t have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.

Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.

“HEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.” He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.

“Just you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.” You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.

“Hey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.”

You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.

“Didn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.” You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.

“It's entertaining to watch.”

“Hmm, because of the outfits?” You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.

“No, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.”

“It's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.”

“Something like that.”

“Stop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. I’m convinced she’s going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.” Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.

“I'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.” You told him as you gave him his headphones.

“I'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?”

“Hmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.” You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.

You usually hated working out with Ja’Marr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.

Joe and Ja’Marr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.

On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.

Deep down you knew that your brother didn’t like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didn’t notice was Ja’Marr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.

You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving Ja’Marr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.

“I fucking hate her boyfriend.”

“Wait, what? He’s here too?” Joe asked as he was looking around.

“No, I saw that he called her and I’m guessing that she went to go and call him back. I can’t fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But she’s happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what I’ve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.” He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.

“But he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. I’m always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didn’t take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesn’t deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten she’s not too far behind.”

It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and Ja’Marr could tell that you were visibly upset.

“Pebbles, what’s wrong?” Ja’Marr asked but you simply waved him off.

Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and Ja’Marr did.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s hurry up and get this done.” You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.

“You aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?”

Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.

“Don't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.”

“If you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.”

“JA'MARR! NO!”

“And Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.”

“I… I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.”

“I'm here for assistance if needed.” Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.

“Yeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.”

“Oh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.”

“Bam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.”

The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.

“Need some help?”

“Hmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.” You replied as you both laughed.

“I got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.

As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.

“Do you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.”

“Yeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?”

“Hmm, let's find out. I think I can.”

Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.

“Thank you for that.” You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.

“Any time.”

“By the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.” You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.

“I'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.”

“How much? 50?” You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.

“Nah, you can do better than that.”

“Okay, 500.” You said as you shrugged.

“Damn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.”

“He's teaching you well.”

“Hmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.”

“Looks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?”

The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.

You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.

“So, did you break up with Trevor yet?” She asked as she began to stretch her arms.

“Uh? Good morning to you too, Erin.”

“Good morning, now did you two break up yet?”

“No, Erin.”

She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.

“Nobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.”

“But I like him!” You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.

“Yeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with Ja’Marr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.”

“Joe Burrow. He plays quarterback.”

“Oohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.”

“ERIN!”

“What? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!”

“I have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?”

“So? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.”

“And he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.” She replied as she smiled at you.

“I…-”

“What are you two going on about over here?” Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.

“Y/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!”

“Erin, shut up!”

“Oh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?” Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.

“I.. don't but I will find out for you.”

“And slip them my number while we're at it.”

“He helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.”

“Erin telling everyone's business as usual.”

“Hey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.”

“Sometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.” You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.

“And you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.”

Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.

After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.

Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.

“Ooh, there goes your man!”

“Erin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!”

“Why not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.”

Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.

“Oh shit, here comes your husband!”

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“You'll get over it.” Erin said as she smiled.

“Morning princess. Just got out of practice?” He asked as he came up to both of you.

“Morning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.”

“Hey Erin, pleasure to meet you.”

“You too and the pleasure is all mine.” She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.

“I was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.”

“Y/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.” Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“And then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?” Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.

“You're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.”

“Lead the way.”

“We're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.”

Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.

On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.

“How are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?” You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.

“A little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.” Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.

“But that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?”

“I didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.”

“Hmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.”

“Always confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.” He responded as he gave you a small smile.

“I can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.”

“I've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.” Joe replied and you looked at him confused.

“Um? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.”

Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.

“It is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.”

“You need my number to be able to do that.” You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.

“Mine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.” Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.

“I've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.”

“Good, because I like being around you too.”

Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.

“Pebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!”

“I took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.” You told him as you stabbed your eggs.

“WAIT, you took Joe!?!?”

“Yes, say hi. You're on speaker.”

“Hey Ja'Marr.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

“Joe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.”

“I got you.”

“Bye, baby brother.”

“Wait! I didn't give you my order!”

“Text it to me, bye.”

Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.

“When do you have class?”

“Not until one.”

“You want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.”

“I get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.”

“Joe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?” You asked as your face heated up.

“Someone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?” He asked as he winked at you.

This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.

[breaclerealtai]

Ok. I finished House's Head/Wilson's Heart last night. I have thoughts. *****S4 and slight S5 spoilers*****

Wilson's grief is so hard to watch. Amber and Wilson's last moments together broke me.

But holy shit, can we talk about the pain House is going through?

First of all, why was House alone in a bar getting plastered? Because he was already struggling that hard to deal with his Wilson Time being cut in half. Why didn't he just drink at home? Because he wanted to create a situation where his keys would be taken, and Wilson would HAVE to come and be with him, even just for the duration of a drive home. He couldn't bear to go even one more evening without him.

Aside from that, the fact that Amber and House are so similar; House was basically watching what he and Wilson's life could have looked like if he was born a woman.

( When I saw the girl looked just like me / And it broke my heart / The lengths you went to hold me / To get to have me - Should've Been Me by Mitski)

The thing is though, House didn't even hesitate to put his life and brain on the line, just so that Wilson could have a chance to be happy with his girlfriend. Not for Wilson to be with House, but for him to be happy, with or without him.

And it's not his leg we're talking about here. We've already got a glimpse of how devastating it would be for House to lose his leg. But for him to survive the procedure, and lose his BRAIN? To lose his puzzles? To lose the one thing that makes him him? That, to me, is a far bigger sacrifice than his life. House was willing to live the rest of his life confused and mentally disabled, never able to diagnose anyone again, if it meant Wilson could be happy.

On the Heaven Bus with Amber, House straight up admits that he'd rather die than have Wilson hate him. He fears losing him more than he fears death itself. He would rather die thinking Wilson loves him, than live for a second in a world where he doesn't.

Now imagine how it feels to get off the bus and head back to a place that could contain his absolute worst fear, a fear worse than death.

And it comes true.

Not only does Wilson hate House, not only does he leave him, he tells him that their friendship all along was never real. Not only does he deny the friendship that House stays alive for, he denies the friendship that House had been staying alive for all those years. In that moment, he not only denies his sacrifice, he denies the thousands and thousands of moments of vulnerability and sacrifice before that.

House stands there, silent and motionless, because he can't actually comprehend it. His mind won't let him. He doesn't get upset or angry, because it hasn't actually registered in his head. It's not true.

He sits on the floor of Wilson's empty office, he keeps going back to the last place he saw Wilson, because he can't even comprehend that he's not there anymore. For him to even accept that fact, is an unimaginable Hell.

House would have mangled his body and destroyed his soul for Wilson's happiness, and he doesn't even acknowledge it.

Amber's death is sad, but at least Wilson was there for her in death. She knew she was loved when she died. House nearly died multiple times, and instead wakes up to hatred.

I know how grief can change you, so I understand why Wilson left. House and Wilson are my favourite dynamic in the show, but a part of me wants House to just walk away too for his own sake. It hurts to see him still cling on to Wilson when he's so ungrateful.

House seems like the most arrogant and selfish person on the show, but in reality he's completely selfless.

[teaboot]

True facts about my home town that I think about sometimes:

Nobody knows how big it is or what the borders are. There is some general consensus on what buildings are inside the town and which buildings are outside the town, as well as which buildings are definitely a different town entirely, but there is no clear "You are now in" or "You are now leaving" type locations you can point to on a map.

Tangentially, there are people one or two towns over, less than a 45 minute drive away, who will regularly ask "where is that?" Or, "I've never heard of that place" when you mention the town by name.

There are so few people that it is technically classified as a Village.

For many years, our only gas station did not sell gas. Once it began selling gas, I remember that they had to patch up the giant hole in a nearby billboard and use it to declare, "We Have Gas!", which was hilarious.

The whole place is mostly just woods.

There is some disagreement among locals as to whether or not there are wolves in the area. That being said, I have absolutely seen wolves in the area.

There is a public transit system that passes through. That said, it only stops by three times a day, and there are no set stops, so you kind of just have to pick a spot on the side of the road and hope for the best. If you are already on board and want off, you have to ring the bell and tell the bus driver where to pull over, which they may or may not do depending on the driver, the weather, traffic conditions, and general vibes.

I had three neighbors and I didn't even see any of them until about fifteen years in. One property across the road was a farm where I never saw anyone outside, but cars and equipment would move places throughout the day.

There is a post office. The woman who operates it is generally regarded as either incompetent or genuinely malicious, as she will often send mail back where it came from  with the justification that she doesn't believe your address is real.

The nearest actual city, with schools and a library and a hospital, famously has absolute dog shit cell service to the point that it is locally famous for it.

My childhood home specifically had a reputation for being a bad traffic spot despite being along a strip of straight road with no turns, and we regularly had to patch up holes in the fence from cars going through it. Most notable was one crash that woke me up as a child on Christmas morning, which I received a lovely thank-you card for noticing after I fetched my parents to assist.

Another time when I was a kid I went outside to find a car with the rear wheels in the air, nose-first in a ditch. I was home alone, so I went inside to call 911 on the landline, where I was immediately put on hold.

Someone stole our church and kept it for several years before inexplicably bringing it back and leaving it behind town hall. Just lifted it off the foundation and trucked it away.

The whole place is just around 100 years old and if you go into the woods you can still find hundreds of humongous tree stumps with foot holds carved into them from when the first white people came in and started settling down.

Apparently an entire family was axe murdered here in like the 80's and nobody talks about it

[harunovella]

bae watch; s.g. - lifeguard!gojo headcanons

a/n: in the midst of working on my gojo series, I saw this still and just had to throw something together! I forgot making hc’s was a thing? would’ve saved me sm time to get out all my fic ideas… anyway, here’s some lifeguard!gojo x beach goer!fem!reader, enjoy (no warnings, just a bit suggestive at the end & not beta read)

- gojo satoru knows he is the hottest man alive, he has no humility in that aspect, it’s just obvious to him… why else would people—specifically mothers—constantly gawk at him when he walked along the sandy beaches in that red lifeguard sweater unzipped, chiseled abs and solid chest on display, and tight (matching) shorts to top it all off? not to mention, the rounded dark shades that he always let slid down his nose to send the ladies winks their way… he’s handsome, he’s sexy, he’s every synonym for attractive known to man

- there’s no doubt the partners of said women (should they be their with a boyfriend or spouse) are dripping in jealousy… how can they compete with that? those ocean ices, snow white hair that shined under the sun lilac and that subtle ton on his smooth skin… all recipes for jealousy. gojo thrived off of it, it boosted his ego… no matter how many times his friends warned him to take it down a notch, the man never cared, this was his serotonin! so of course when there’s a new cutie on the beach during the summer—a new regular—he can’t help but want her attention as well!

- and by her, I clearly mean you. he wants your attention. he’s a slut for it, he needs everyone’s undivided attention on his washboard abs and charming smirk that held pearly white teeth. however, you weren’t giving it to him. you didn’t pay him mind and he wasn’t liking that…

- you, for once, took the summer off from college. sure, you were in a hurry to finish, but your mental health came first and you needed time away…

- the beach was actually in your home town, the school you attended was more inland and you needed to get closer to nature somehow. and that somehow was the ocean blue before you. you didn’t live to far, a good half hour drive depending on traffic, sometimes relying on the bus if you were feeling a bit lazy… most of the time you came with your childhood friends you kept in touch with. most were already working their full time jobs while others were on the same boat as you, managing work and school life. the bright idea of enjoying the summer at the beach almost daily came from one of your good friends and you couldn’t quite turn the opportunity down—you practically grew up on the beach. you just didn’t expect an obnoxious man to obstruct that… let alone, your view. 

- according to one of your friends, gojo satoru was the local hottie… the man everyone wanted but no one could have. a true, living and breathing tease. all sorts of rumors floated around him but you didn’t pay him mind… wasn’t like you were interested anyway! right?

- wrong! who were you to deflect the gojo satoru’s charm? well… at least you tried…

- you spent what felt like days ignoring his every move, the constant flirtation, the obvious need for your attention specifically… you weren’t sure why, he barely even knew you!

- unbeknownst to you, one of you local friends was actually good college friends with him—ieiri shoko

- what you didn’t know was that your belove lifeguard begged and begged and pleaded his old brunette college bestie for any and every detail about you: from your favorite color to your oddest quirk. she didn’t understand why at first, for as long as she’s known the man, he’s never cared for anyone other himself (not entirely true, he actually really loves his friends)… that is until it hit her. he actually had a crush on a girl who didn’t want anything to do with him! how odd was that?

- wasn’t all that odd when shoko was a good people reader and she knew that deep down inside (not too deep) you very much found gojo attractive. she’s seen the way you look at him when he’s not paying attention. she’s seen the way you’ve counted his abs, your eyes bouncing from side to side… and she’s definitely seen you doodle little sketches of him along the margins of the books you were reading in ink… you’re not so innocent yourself.

- thus! she plays matchmaker! she helps her little (but really, giant) white haired friend to get the girl under one condition: he doesn’t fuck it up!

- and he swears tooth and nail he won’t!

- to her surprise, he actually is doing everything to get your attention. not always the right way but he’s trying. he asks you how you’re doing, but then let’s put a snarky remark, only to save it with a compliment out of nowhere. he may be a great flirt to women he actually has no interest in, but when he’s flirting with a girl he actually wants… he’s awful… oddly enough. 

- and yet… you start to fall for that? when those goofy moments slip? he always kills it by trying to play it cool (you wish he wouldn’t) but when that awkward, flustered gojo escapes… it makes your heart skip a beat. makes it race just a little bit…

- maybe that’s why one day you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss outta the blue. maybe to get a reaction, maybe because you’ve been wanting too—he’s got pink plush lips, who wouldn’t be tempted to? also… maybe you wanted to shut him up because, really, wasn’t it obvious he won you ever? he already had you visiting more than before (alone), he already was sitting by your side on his breaks… you never shooed him away, actually spoke to him, and even brought him food most of the time. was he that oblivious? he just kept blabbering on, thinking he still needed to win you over but, really, it actually wasn’t as hard as he thought (which kinda scared you but here you are, kissing him out in the open as if he wasn’t a lifeguard on duty).   

- you obviously latched onto his jacket, had him yanked your way, maybe even slid in between his legs to get a better angle… gojo maybe have wrapped his massive hands around your waist to keep you there and he may have gotten significantly hard to the point you felt it and couldn’t help but laugh hid it kindly with your extra towel and a “rain check? you know, when you’re not in the middle of watching over people…” and gojo being the fool he is couldn’t help but pout, complaining about “how can I go back to the tower when I’m like this! you have to help me!” 

- and guess what? you know those little changing tents? maybe you two slid into one, maybe you loosened up those shorts that accentuated his thighs and ass and maybe—just maybe—you got on your knees for him as a reward for his efforts of winning you over ♡ 

[sellasstories]

BUS RIDE

word count: 1.3k

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

⚠️warnings⚠️

explicit smut, exhibitionism?

prompts:

caitlin fingering you on the bus on the way to a game

jealous caitlin (kinda)

You jumped out of bed as soon as your alarm went off. You were travelling with the team today! After checking that you had everything, you made a quick breakfast and called Caitlin.

“Good morning, babe!” you chirped excitedly. “Are you up yet? Did you pack last night?”

You heard bedsheets shift as Caitlin sat up and groaned. “Don’t worry, love, I’m packed. What are you so excited about this early in the morning?” she wondered, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Come on, it’s our first away game of the season! Why aren’t you excited?” you retorted as you cleaned up your dishes.

“Because it’s literally 5am,” Caitlin grumbled. “And it’s such a long drive, you’ll get bored of it so fast.”

“Whatever, I’m still excited. You had better be happier when I see you on the bus,” you threatened jokingly. “Speaking of which, I’m leaving now so see you there!” You barely gave Caitlin a chance to say goodbye before you were hanging up, grabbing your bags, and rushing out of your dorm.

You put your bags on the bus and climbed in, realizing that Kate was the only person already there.

“Hi, Kate!” You waved at her exaggeratedly.

“Why are you here so early?” she asked you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you retorted. “I’m just really excited for some reason.”

“Me too, actually,” giggled Kate. You sat in the empty seat next to her and chatted as the bus slowly filled up.

Caitlin finally stuck her head through the door, still looking grumpy. You watched her eyes scan the bus to find you, and she raised an eyebrow when she saw you sitting with Kate.

You turned to Kate again, ignoring your girlfriend as a joke. “She looks so jealous,” Kate said quietly, nudging you with her shoulder.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go hang out with her,” you sighed dramatically as you stood up. Caitlin had just passed your seat, so you followed her to the back. Caitlin sat down heavily and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is something wrong, princess?” you asked sweetly, straddling Caitlin for a few seconds as you climbed into the window seat.

“It’s cold, I’m exhausted, and my girlfriend was sitting with another girl,” she pouted.

You pressed a kiss to her lips. “You’re ridiculous! Kate is my friend, and yours too. I’m all yours now, don’t worry.” Laughing, you kissed the tip of her nose.

“Whatever, let’s just go to sleep.” Caitlin couldn’t stop a small smile from showing on her face. You got your AirPods out while she spread a blanket over the two of you.

You shuffled your chill playlist and sighed contentedly, snuggling into Caitlin and closing your eyes. You focused on the sounds of the road and the music, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Your breath caught and your eyes snapped open as you felt Caitlin grab your leg, draping it over her lap and pulling you closer. You shot her a confused look, but she just closed her eyes, resting her hand on your thigh.

You closed your eyes again, but were too distracted to fall asleep. Caitlin’s hand was very high up, and she was lightly tracing shapes on your inner thigh. The basketball shorts that you were wearing had already rolled up from the way that you were sitting, but when you felt Caitlin’s thumb graze the hem of your panties, you knew that she was doing this on purpose.

“Not right now,” you breathed, trying not to look like anything suspicious was going on.

Caitlin didn’t even open her eyes. “Why not? We have so much time,” she mumbled.

“Someone could see! We’d be in so much trouble!” The panicked edge to your voice must have convinced her because she stopped her movements, instead sliding her fingers just under your waistband. You opened your mouth to protest again, but decided against it when you realized that her hand wasn’t moving.

Your relief was short-lived, because even though Caitlin had listened and appeared to be asleep, you couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if you’d let her continue. Trying to calm down, you shifted in your seat, but your movement caused Caitlin’s finger to brush against your clit. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you came to a decision.

“Cait, wake up,” you whined, running a hand down her arm. She blinked slowly and looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly. You nodded quickly, shifting against her hand and hoping that she got the hint.

“Forget what I said earlier. Please touch me,” you mumbled desperately.

Caitlin didn’t answer, only smirking as she moved her hand down. She closed her eyes again as she started a slow rhythm on your clit with two fingers.

You buried your face in her chest to hide the blush on your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your hips. Caitlin was applying just enough pressure, and it felt amazing.

You slowly relaxed, dropping your head onto Caitlin’s shoulder. You allowed the fog of pleasure to overcome your thoughts of getting caught, closing your eyes with a shaky exhale.

Caitlin continued at the same pace, occasionally dipping a finger into your entrance to gather some wetness. Your complete trust in her allowed your mind to really wander. You imagined how hot her fingers looked under the blanket and hoped that she didn’t notice your breathing hitch.

You knew that Caitlin was getting off on this, and it made you wonder how far she would go. Your mind conjured images of her on her knees in front of the seat as she ate you out, the blanket long gone, and you shuddered as your breathing got heavier.

This time, Caitlin noticed. “What do you need?” She pressed her lips to the top of your head.

“Keep going,” was all you managed to say.

Looking around, Caitlin started to increase the pace of her fingers. Practically panting at this point, you pulled your sweater over your face to muffle the sound.

“I know, love, I know,” Caitlin said soothingly. She titled your head up with her free hand and leaned close to your ear. “Look at me, I wanna see your face when you cum.”

You found yourself blushing again, the intensity of her words and her fingers setting your body on fire. She pressed harder on your clit, and it was enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm hit suddenly, and you weren’t quite able to stop a moan escaping from your open lips. You closed your eyes and willed yourself not to react to the overpowering feeling of pleasure spreading out across your body, still trying not to draw attention even as your mind became fuzzy.

Caitlin kept rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing out the feeling of euphoria. She decreased the pressure once she saw your eyes focus back on her. “That was so hot,” she said onto your lips, pulling you in for a kiss.

You watched Caitlin gingerly slide her hand out of your shorts and wipe it on the blanket. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you said breathlessly. Seeing that it was now fully light out, you checked the time on your phone. “You got me off for two hours?” You asked in disbelief. “Cait, how is your hand not cramped? We have a game this afternoon!”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, consider it endurance training or something,” she brushed off your concern. “Besides, it wasn’t even my shooting hand.”

You smacked her playfully on the arm before laying down in her lap, already questioning where the confidence to do that had come from. “You’re actually insane,” you giggled, looking up at her adoringly.

[flamingo-writes]

Leather and Lipstick — Hobie Brown x Reader

@inthishousewestanencanto requested: “Hi! May I ask for a Hobie request? Some possible smut if that's something you write? If not, him making the reader their own battle jacket?”

A/N: i took more than I thought writing this, but I also intended to write a fix half this length. I also merged both things in one, and I feel kinda proud of it. I hope you enjoy it 😩

Genre: fluff, smut.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: smut of course. Not proof read.

Hobie Brown was tall. And he was skinny. Granted, he had superhuman strength, could lift an entire bus if he wanted. But he was naturally a skinny guy. His muscles were toned, but not ridiculous toned to make him look like a dehydrated model. He was proportionally toned, muscles buff enough to make him look irresistible to you. Small waist, narrow shoulders.

And it was precisely his thin complexion what allowed him to fit into your clothes. Just like you could fit and drive him crazy wearing his clothes, he could do the exact same thing to you.

He especially loved stealing and wearing a dark red leather jacket you owned. It always smelled like you. It was soft. And you always left random trinkets in the pockets. Sometimes it was your lipstick, sometimes it was your earrings, sometimes it was the tiny origami animals you did with post it notes when you got bored at work. He loved exploring the pockets of your jacket, he never knew what he was going to find.

One time you tipped the inside of the pocket by mistake. Hobie could almost hear the sound of your heart breaking as you said how your favourite jacket was in her last moments, as the insides were starting to rip, the edges were starting to look worn and the paint was starting to fall off. It had been with you for the best part of almost ten years. And you’d found it in a secondhand store. Who knew how long had that jacket really have.

Hobie made it his mission to patch up and fix your jacket before your birthday.

“Man, I’m gonna try and fix it, but I don’t think she has that much life left in her…” You said.

“I’ll do it,” Hobie said with a nonchalant shrug as he started thinking of all the things he could actually do with your jacket.

You didn’t hear nor see your jacket for months. You started forgetting about it, only nostalgically remembering you once had a gorgeous scarlet jacket when you saw pictures of you wearing it. But knew Hobie was actively keeping it secret, as he never told you how it was going. You knew it was going good from the cheeky grin he gave you every time you asked.

The next time you saw it wa shack at Hobie’s place after the night out you had with your friends. You went to a bar, talked and drank for hours. And it was around four a.m. when you left back to your place. Awake as if it was barely 11 p.m. you walked into his place. His hand on your waist as he pushed you against the wall and kissed you between giggles.

You didn’t even try to resist Hobie as you kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes. His snaked around your waist as he pressed his body against yours. You moaned sweetly into his lips.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you hot and bothered as you glanced at him.

“I’ve still got one last surprise for ya,” He said in a low purr.

“God, Hobie, you’ve already given me a wonderful day with my boyfriend, a fantastic evening with my friends, you know, I’m still kinda expecting birthday sex, but what else can you possibly give me? You’ve already given me everything,” You chuckled, following him as he walked into his room.

“Oh, you’re gonna get your birthday sex, don’t worry, luv…” He chuckled. “Close your eyes,”

You did as he said as you heard his wardrobe open and the rustling of hangers.

“Stretch out your arms,” He said, you complied.

As you felt something leathery and slightly heavy in your hands, your heart stopped briefly.

“No…” You whispered.

“Open those pretty eyes,”

In your hands you saw your scarlet jacket. Renewed. Enhanced. Spikes around the collar, and the cuffs. Black patches sewed with floss along some of the edges. At the back there was a beautiful drawing of your favourite animal made out of polygons with white paint.

“Hobie!” You whispered breathless. “Oh my god, Hobie!”

“You have to see the best part, look at this,” He said as he showed you the inside, completely new fabric covering the insides, and where the old washed out tag with the brand and size was, now replaced with a black patch with a drawing of a pencil with “HB No.2” written on it. His familiar signature, referencing the drawing pencils. Underneath, there was something else written: “For the Love of My Life, my Beacon of Light. I love you. -HB”

You looked up at Hobie with wide eyes, as they got teary.

“Wadya think?” He asked.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, trapping his lips in a fiery kiss. His hands latched on to your hips at once. Pulling you over to the bed, making you lay down.

“I loved it. Hobie, it’s wonderful…” you said breathlessly as you pulled Hobie on top of you.

“Would you model it for me, luv?” He purred.

You chuckled and nodded. Getting off of you, and laying besides you, you say up and out on the jacket, standing up and modelling the jacket.

“The jacket doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as the girl wearing it,”

“Come on, Hobie. It’s beautiful. I loved it,” You said.

“I’m glad you liked it,” He said with a gentle smile.

“You know how this would look even better?” You asked, smirking as you took off the jacket.

Hobie raised an eyebrow as he watched you take your shirt off. His heart racing as his eyes and smirk widened.

As you put your jacket back on, this time not wearing anything underneath. The jacket covering your breasts, leaving your chest exposed, as Hobie stared at you wide eyed.

“Fuck, I can’t believe how incredibly hot you look, luv,” He said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.

Pulling you down, straddling him, he leaned closer and started kissing your neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands exploring your skin underneath the jacket. Between his hands and lips, you felt delirious. Letting a soft moan escape your throat as one of your hands sunk in his wicks.

“Fuck, Hobie…” You whispered.

“Isn’t that the plan?” He teased, making you chuckle.

“You’re such a smartass,” You said kissing his head.

“You like that, don’t you?” He said pulling away as one of his hands caressing your cheek.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping your boob. His thumb sliding over your nipple, making you close your eyes and moan.

“You sound so hot when you do that, babe…” He said in a low voice, as he kept teasing your nipple, staring at you enamoured.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at him. Licking your lips, as your stare darkened. Picking up on the look you were giving him, he leaned forward and kissed you. His other hand slid down your cheek to cup your other breast, giving them a gentle squeeze before his fingers teased your nipples. Gasping against his lips, you rocked your hips on top of his, this time, stealing a moan from him.

Melting against each other, while normally you’d passionately devour each other, this time you went slower. Equally fiery, but much slower. Taking your time to undress each other. Loving caresses, and declarations of love dissipating in the air, mixed with moans. The heat rising as you gave into each other.

With little clothes left, Hobie lying on the bed with you sitting on his hips. Wearing nothing but leather and smudged lipstick. He stared at you with drunken eyes.

“You know how else would this jacket look great?” He asked.

“On your bedroom floor?” You asked, making him chuckle.

“Man, too predictable?”

“You used that pick up like the first time you brought me over to your place…” You chuckled. “I was wearing—“

“That sexy blue sundress…” Hobie sighed as his hands slid up your body, pushing the jacket off your shoulders.

In a swift move, once Hobie took off the jacket, he grabbed your hips and turned the both of you over. Leaving you undergrad as he nestled between your legs.

“For the record, you always do look sexy…” He said.

You giggled as you cupped his face. “Kiss me, Hobie…”

Without having to be told twice, he leaned down and kissed you.

The night went on as you let the heat of the moment consume you. Clothes burning close together, as he slid inside of you. Stretching you in such a delicious way, building a rhythm that was soon going to drive you crazy. Delirious, as Hobie knew exactly how to make you feel ecstatic.

With every push, he was building your orgasm. Somehow being simultaneously rough and gentle, making your eyes roll back. Your voice growing higher and higher, as the sound of your voice was driving him insane.

“Fuck, babe…Look at me…” He purred as you opened your eyes, looking at him. “That’s right, babe…”

“I love you, Hobie…” You gasped.

“I do too. Very, very much, baby…” He said as he leaned over, his nose brushing against yours.

His hips slowed down, as his hands patched on to your hips, lifting them up slightly. Going deeper than before, you let a loud moan out as you bumped your forehead against his. His length brushing against the right spot, and his tip kissing your cervix.

“Babe, I want to cum…” You whined.

“Everything at its time…” He chuckled softly as he built up his rhythm again.

Arching your back, you cried out his name as your hands clawed to his shoulders. His hips snapping against yours, as his own grunts only added to the heat in your belly condense.

With every push, every gasp, you felt yourself dissolving, every second closet and closer and closer to your climax.

“Ba-babe~”

“You like that?” He asked with a cheeky grin as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, going deeper.

“Ye-yeah…”

“Such a pretty girl,” He purred as he sped up.

His relentless pace eventually threw you off the edge, as you cried out his name, your fingers clawing to his arms. The consuming heat of your orgasm burning you inside out. Your walls desperately squeezing him, sucking him in as he groaned, lost in pleasure as he chased his own orgasm. The delirious spasming of your walls soon made him come undone. His hot seed shooting inside your insides, coating and painting your walls.

He kissed your forehead, halting his movements. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feeling of his body relaxing and the sound of your soft panting, catching your breath.

He got off of you and collapsed on the bed besides you. Rolling to your side, you snuggled close to him.

“Happy birthday, luv,”

“My best birthday so far,”

“That’ll change next year,” He said confidently, as he kissed your forehead.

~~~~~

Hobie tag list: @melda0m3

[ladymoody]

Hi could you right a story with cook from skins? i barely see fanficts about him. thank you if you do it 🙏🏻

SUGAR

james cook x fem!reader

︎warnings: nsfw +18, drugs, alcohol, mention of death, irresponsible driving, explicit language, fingering, squirt.

word count: 1,4k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; playlist ; characters list ; my website

"so… she's with freddie now?" I asked. cook and effy had recently broken up and he couldn't stop thinking about her. once, when he came over to sleep at my place, I even found him crying in the bathroom and it was a sorrowful sight. he told me how well effy had treated him, and how later she switched to a heartless behavior. he had tried to replace her many times with some flings but he told me it didn't feel the same because he deeply knew effy, meanwhile, he didn't even remember the names of the girls he fucked for fun.

"yeah. I saw them making out on the bus too the other day."

"oh cook..." I shifted a bit more on the couch, snuggling up to him to comfort him.

"it's okay, y/n." he moved his hand in the air as if he meant to diminish the importance of the matter. "I'm over it."

"I don't think so, cookie."

"don't call me that, you know I don't like it." he chuckled. "I'll call you sugar if you don't stop."

cook used to call me sugar when we met. he said the fragrance I used was so sweet that it reminded him of a sugary drink.

"you know it makes nostalgic."

"I'm well aware of that." he grinned, tickling my side slightly.

"what if we hang out like we used to?" I said.

"what do you mean? you mean getting drunk and high?"

"maybe. late night car drive without a destination?"

he lifted his eyebrows and hesitated. "what if we crash? getting drunk and driving doesn't sound so smart, ya know?" he brushed a strand of my hair off my face.

"cook, do you actually care? just take the highway, everything will be fine." I smirked, looking at him in the eyes.

both of us didn't really care about dying. death wasn't such a big deal after all, especially for two teenagers like us who had lost everything — cook's parents were divorced and both very absent. the only relative he still had was his little brother who lived with his mother so he rarely saw him. just like cook, I didn't have a father as he had moved out when I was very little and my mother passed away a couple of years before due to overdose. I currently lived with my aunt, who used to drink a lot of alcohol as well and didn't care about me.

“you’re right. fuck it.” he smirked and left a quick kiss on my neck before getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket from the hanger.

I smiled at him and followed him into the hall, picking up my leather jacket as well.

(skip time)

we had settled in his car — our jackets were thrown in the backseats, cook’s shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top and my window rolled down to make the wind blow my hair. we were heading to the highway.

“I love the night.” I affirmed after taking a sip of the bottle of vodka in my hand.

“me too. it’s so calm and quiet… it makes you want to screw the silence up with some good sex and loud parties.” he took a puff from his spliff. I laughed.

“jeez, cook… you really are bold, ain’t you?” I ruffled his short hair for as much as I could. “I’m glad you’re thinking about something different other than effy.”

cook’s expression changed into something darker and more serious. I had touched a soft spot.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this topic back.”

“it’s okay, y/n. you didn’t do it on purpose. then effy can go fuck herself. I’m tired of being her little puppy she uses every time she wants some good sex because mr mclair is a bloody inexperienced incompetent.”

“you’re right. fuck her.”

“fuck her.” he repeated more to himself. there was silence for a couple of minutes, just the sound of the wheels on the road and the other cars passing by. I felt the awkward moment building between us two, so I glanced at cook and leaned in to kiss his cheek quickly, then I set my vodka bottle down.

cook smiled at the gesture and turned his head to give me an affectionate look. "I should be sad more often if it means getting you to show me affection."

I chuckled and nudged his arm, "shut up". the silence fell again.

there was a bit of tension between us too, as if we wanted to say so many things but couldn't. "I was thinking..." he began.

"how many years have we known each other for?" he continued.

"I don't know... 4... 5?"

he didn't answer me as he kept staring at the road in front of him, and I was growing suspicious, but not so later a little idea popped up in my mind.

"you'd like my help, cook?" I asked. my voice was lower than before and I leaned in as I caressed his cheek.

cook smirked. I understood what he meant and he understood I understood what he meant.

“let’s try, come here…” he muttered as he pulled my thighs towards him. I got the hint and climbed over him, sitting on his lap and resting my legs on his. he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me in place and left the other one on the steering wheel.

I leaned in and grabbed his face with my hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly to pull him to me and kiss him. he happily kissed me back, now moving the hand from my waist to the back of my neck, and deepened the kiss, tapping his tongue on my bottom lip, which I merrily allowed and let him in.

I moved to straddle him, grinding back and forth slightly as we made out. the road didn’t have any turns and he just had to drive ahead, so the chances of getting into a car accident were very low.

I started feeling his cock pressing against me, shamelessly begging cook to free it. “you’ll make us crash, sugar.” he pulled away enough to speak — our lips still very close.

“just keep driving. everything’s gonna be alright.”

cook was beyond an expert in kissing — I knew effy had been lucky to have him and now it was just her loss. to be honest, I had never thought of cook in this way, only in a friendly way, but there was something that screamed “attractive” every time he talked to me about his flings and how good he made those girls feel. a small part of me wished to be taken by him and be one of his whores, and somehow I had managed to do it right now. maybe I wasn’t a whore, but we were definitely on the edge of having sex.

cook slipped his hand inside my panties as our lips moved together, and thrusted two of his fingers between my folds. I gripped him instantly, making a low moan as I felt them pump inside of me. he soon added another finger, and then another one.

oh god.

I was almost stretched to my limits as I rode his hand, completely in a heaven of ecstasy. cook kissed and sucked on my neck as he moved his fingers, leaving me a few marks but slightly visible. I knew I was very close to my release.

“cook… I…” I whined.

“I know, sugar. cum on my fingers, will ya?” he muttered against my ear. and that was quite what made me let go fully and give myself to him. I threw my head back, lifting slightly from his lap as he didn’t slow his pace down a bit — then I cried out and squirted on his shirt.

“oh my god!” I got down from the high. I was a panting mess, my back now pressing against the steering wheel which honked as soon as I leaned back.

cook took his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, licking and sucking. “taste like sugar.”

I tiredly chuckle, my eyes still struggling to stay open completely.

“I’ve always known you were this good…” I confessed.

“we should do it again sometime, mh? it helps me a lot.” he faked a pouty tone, using the effy matter as an excuse to take me again.

“naughty boy.” I leaned in and pecked his lips.

[moominbuge]

27 Dresses

⋆⭒˚.⋆always the bridesmaid, never the bride...⋆⭒˚.⋆

In which you're a chronic bridesmaid and a lover of weddings, and Ellie is a love-repulsed wedding reporter who works for a newspaper.

a/n- hiii guys i wrote up this first part today, i honestly don't know how long it will take me to write more oops but trust i want to! lowkey my first post on tumblr so if this flops </3 this part is around 700 words and is mainly just intro...actual interaction soon to come! love u mean it

You were running so, so late.

On most days, your agenda was booked and followed down to the very seconds of the day.

7AM- wake up

7:05AM- get in shower

7:20AM- exit shower, brush teeth

7:22AM- get dressed

7:27AM- start coffee maker

7:30AM- drink coffee and try not to regret your decisions thus far

You get the idea.

Today, however, you were running late. Your alarm failed to sound at 7, so you were late to the shower, which made you late to have your coffee, and so on.

On top of that, your heavenly, brown-leather-bound agenda was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t the absolute end of the world, since you basically have your schedule memorized for the next year and a half, but it was like losing your security blanket. You felt exposed. Empty, almost.

After throwing on a somewhat-acceptable outfit for your office assistant job, you swallowed your last sip of coffee before bolting out the wooden door of your apartment and down the street towards the bus stop. If you could run fast enough, you would make it just in time-

The bus closes its doors and departs, with you still standing outside.

Fuck.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Ellie woke up on the right side of the bed. Her morning meeting with the editor of her newspaper column was cancelled, allowing her to get an extra 30 minutes of sleep. When she visited her usual coffee shop to get her iced chai, they gave her a croissant on the house. She had not felt this refreshed and energized in years!

And, best of all, she felt the weight of a little leather-bound agenda in her work bag.

The night before, she was attending a friend from college’s wedding. She was surprised when the wedding invite arrived in her mailbox, since she hadn’t spoken to this girl since undergrad, but she RSVP’d nonetheless. What, who was she to turn down an open bar and the opportunity to watch a potential bridezilla/bridesmaid meltdown?

Anyways, she showed up in a nice, collared shirt and some black dress pants that were in the back of her closet. As she sipped on her whiskey and waved at some old friends, she saw something that caught her eye.

Or, rather, someone.

You, in a god-awful bridesmaid dress (seriously, what happened to neutral tones and simple silhouettes? Are bridesmaid dresses that bad to ensure that the bride looks the best?), rushing towards the exit, nearly tripping in your heels. Intrigued, she sets her glass down, and begins to sneak away outside behind you.

 “Ok, here is the deal. I’ll pay you $300 to drive me around all night, but if you peak into the backseat, I’ll drop it by $20-“ she overheard you talking to a taxi driver, reaching down to rip off your heels. The driver nods, begins to speak, but you cut him off- “Nope, I’m not changing that rule. I just need you to take me back and forth between these venues.”

You throw yourself into the backseat when the cabbie nods, and Ellie watches, amused. Who is this girl? Aren’t you the maid of honor?

You, in the backseat of the cab, begin pulling out another brightly-colored dress as the cab peels off. Ellie scoffs as she watches, before heading back inside.

You make your return just in time for your maid of honor speech that follows cocktail hour. Ellie, still stanced near the bar, watches you smooth down your dress and take the mic, gushing about how much you love the bride, how you grew up together, how you were so proud to see the woman she had become…it was so perfect, so textbook. You were either extremely genuine in your praises, or you were an amazing actress.

Following the speech, Ellie eyes you as you once again rush outside, back to the cabbie who was waiting. As you run, however, something falls out of your bag…

Squatting, Ellie grabs it from the ground. A small, yet extensively used planner.

Bingo.

[unkat]

chilaios medical au idea i have been bouncing in my head (will not be written until after my current one is done)

i am thinking of a like firefighter/paramedic story for these guys. where laios is a new shift commander/chief at a small middle of nowhere station and chilchuck is a medic from a big city who keeps getting reassigned because he is trying to recruit for a union and the company is trying to make his job unworkable/find a reason to let him go.

laios was promoted because of his work ethic and ability to teach other people about the ins and outs of emergency medicine, not because he wanted to be in charge. he is too new and disinterested in the company politics to throw him under the bus for other people, and by the time someone explicitly says he needs to fire him, he has gotten attached.

"he's reliable, does good work, and catches things nobody else here would have. i know he cussed out the family trying to get into the rig, but he had already told them no and they should be grateful he saved their daughter instead of filing a complaint! even if i were to discipline, he deserves a verbal warning and not dismissal. You were not there, and i am his direct superior."

(wins the argument and walks away trying not to hyperventilate)

also falin is a surgeon and marcille is a research fellow who abandoned her big-city super-focused projects to come out into the country and work with subpar equipment and an incompetent assistant. im not thinking like full rural hospital here, but closeish to it. could be an academic satellite hospital and she switched from like gene therapy trials to studying exposures/population/histology stuff.

shifting the touden hyperfixation from monsters->medical fascination i think would still get across the same vibes. falin is very nice and pleasant but she treats everyone nicely and pleasantly without actually empathizing with them. shes one of those surgeons who went to shadow a heart transplant in college and cried because it was so beautiful and then got a bunch of scholarships plus student loans for med school.

laios hunts and has a big appreciation for the lives of things he kills and butchering/using everything he can. then it translates to him being fascinated by the human body as an object more than as a being that is different and special from other animals that he is a part of. he is a fantastic emergency responder because of this- people are a pile of flesh that is broken somewhere, and he wants to figure out why. (this is something that I'm like. not sure if it is okay for me to include because it can be squicky/triggering. but i feel like when I'm unsure if I'm going too far that is when i am reaching the line i want to?)

the touden siblings still go hiking and mudding and spend their time off in the woods (marcille wears white shorts and sandels on a hike leaving laios to be very explicit and offering clothes to chilchuck when he offers him to join. chilchuck borrows his shirt and it is way too big, but he keeps it for a while.)

chilchuck is extra divorced. he facetimes with the girls a couple of times a week and gets them on rotating holidays. sometimes ex-mrs. tims invites him over for dinner because she feels sorry for him and her new boyfriend is also there. it's awkward but they both know he's harmless, just annoying and closed off. he smokes but has tried to quit 7-8 times. started when he was an emt and couldn't shake it because it helped him destress. he only knows how to drive well enough to pass his vehicle license renewals and still doesn't know what the buttons in his car do. the ac has been "broken" for a week before a station mechanic pushes the button to turn it back on (they should put a subway around here, stupid cars).

laios respects his experience and history of being at a constantly busy station that saw a variety of crazy shit. chilchuck initially resents him for being so out of touch, but grows to respect his leadership abilities. laios also always follows up on cases at the hospital to figure out the outcome and reflect on best practices.

he is the first person to get chilchuck to actually debrief after a shitty call and chil cries and never wants to talk about it again. but its like a seal in a dam has been breached, and opens up when they are cuddling on the couch. they spend more time off shift with each other. chilchuck crashes on laios' couch and initially feels like he needs excuses to do it until laios says he really likes talking with him and having him there. he tells him about the company's EAP coverage and that he encourages everyone to take advantage of it.

in the end, they hit that threshold of basically living together, and one of them would need to change their station (superior/employee romance) after they go from making out off shift in secret to seriously considering having laios meet his daughters in person. (they already think they're married because laios is always there when they call now)

[ellybobelly]

And Even More Lies?

Chapter 1

-

“Sergeant Barnes!” a woman yelled as he was making his daily run around the national mall “Please! Sergeant Barnes! Please! The avengers wont listen to me anymore!”

Bucky stopped as the car halted to a screech. He didn't really want to listen but there was a part of him that felt the need to. He sighed and stretched his arms waiting for some random paparazzi to come out

“Thank you sir,” came an exasperated breath “my name is Julia Price! I work with the Washington Post!”

Bucky let out a groan.

“No one will listen to me anymore and I need someone with your abilities! Please Sgt barnes! Please at least listen to what I have to say!”

It wasn't a second later that a car came flying through the air and hit a tree. Bucky quickly looked and saw the aggressor. An average 30 something year old guy who obviously has a score to settle with the woman in the car. Quickly the man started running towards them searching for the next thing that he could use as a weapon. It seemed as though he settled upon a water fountain until Bucky used it against him. With his metal arm he pulled the fountain out of the ground and smashed the red headed assailant on the head, throwing him a few feet and rendering him unconscious. It was just after that that bucky ran and took cover in the car that had approached him. There he found a shivering girl in the driver's seat barely able to put her hands on the steering wheel.

“Jules, right?” he said as he grabbed her yellow sweater sleeve “you need me to drive?”. She didn't even have a chance to answer when he started pushing her into the back seat in which she went, and then he took over the driving and sped off away as fast as he could.

“So why didn't the avengers believe you?” he asked casually as he drove across D.C, trying to make sure the car wouldn't be able to be tracked.

“I.. uh .. i” she tried to speak, clearly still terrified

“Spit it out! This isn't the time to be shy!” he yelled louder than he wanted to because he had to make a sharp turn in order not to crash into a bus. The girl took a deep breath

“I have it on good authority that there is a crime syndicate making a drug that will either amplify latent super powers or kill someone who doesn't have the genes for it!”. Julia had curled herself into a ball and held her eyes so tight that the corners were starting to tear.

“Uh huh….” bucky said, with an air of disbelief.

“I promise! No one ever got back to me because I'm not actually with a paper! I'm just a small town nobody journalist that just happened to pick up the pieces. I wouldn't have even known about it if it didn't affect my hometown!:"Bucky just kept driving until he found a back alley at a safe enough distance. It was then when he took a deep sigh and seemed to visibly relax. A bit.

“Now ‘Julia Price’” he ran his right hand through the air “explain yourself. Or at least everything that you know”.

“I pretty much told you everything I know” she was sitting in the back seat, still shaking slightly and pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan “there's some kind of drug… I don't know what kind or how it's made or how it works but– you just SAW that!!” she looked up at him with obvious fear in her eyes. Bucky just stared at her, nothing expressed on his face but his eyes were all but staring into her soul. Another deep, calming breath and “I’m sorry I lied to you earlier Sgt. Barnes–”

“Bucky.” He interrupted.

“Y-yes, Bucky, I'm sorry that I lied to you earlier about being a journalist. I mean, I am, or well, trying to be at least. It's what i went to college for”

“Just spit it out, kid. We might not have a long time”

“You're right. Sorry.” she groaned “sorry for saying sorry. It was around a month ago, I went back to visit my parents in a small town in New Jersey and there was something really strange going on. I'm sure that you're aware that there are a lot of issues with drugs being laced with fentanyl these days and it's killing people at an alarming rate. Now it seemed to everyone else, including the cops, that's all it was. However I started noticing something else. As you also know, it seems like every other day someone with super powers pops up right? Well this also started happening, but not… not like normal super powers, if that's even a thing. I noticed that it was solely low level criminals, like that one guy everyone knew was a drug dealer, but the cops never really found him doing anything that they could actually catch. So one day, I guess someone stiffed him on some payment and he burnt their apartment. It even spread to some of his neighbors! Obviously he's in jail now but—”

“So a crack head burnt someone house down and you think-” he started but was quickly interrupted

“He burnt it down with his hands! Like he had fire coming out of his hands! Like a human flamethrower or something!” Julia blurted out “The cops buried that part of the story but I saw it! I drove by when it was happening! I stopped for a minute but got the hell out of there as soon as I realized what I saw. I never said anything to the police though, because, well, I don't know what they would do if I knew” her voice trailing off with guilt.

That seemed to make Bucky pause and start thinking seriously about what she was saying “And he couldn't do that before?”

“I mean, I don't think so. He was a few grades aheads of me in high school and everyone knew he was a bit of a fire bug but he had never done anything like that! Like, Like it was magic or something”

Bucky took out his phone in an attempt to google what she was saying to try to verify it

“Listen, please! I told you the cops buried it. There's literally nothing online about it. But I know what I saw and that made me start looking into other strange crimes in my town and neighboring areas” she said and started rustling around for a journal that had fallen under the passenger seat in the back of the car “I wrote it all down. Every weird crime that was seemingly done in ways that aren't necessarily humanly possible. I thought it was localized but it not only spans the entire state, but it goes into new york and obviously made its way here”

She handed him the journal and Bucky opened it to see pages and pages of names and dates and crimes. She had even written the website address down by hand.

“And you've tried telling people about this?” he asked without even looking up.

“Anyone who would listen! But no one will! And I know the avengers aren't really like a thing anymore but i still sent over every link and all of the proof I have” her voice was hesitant, like she was going to say the next part against her better judgement “that's why i tracked you down Sgt. B- Bucky” she corrected herself “because you're like not really an avenger, but like you kind of are? I think? But I thought you were my best bet…”.

It was then when he looked up and shut the book “you did all of this by yourself?” he seemed to finally be relaxed while looking at her “and you think it's because of a drug?”

Julias lips curled into a small smile “yes. Yes I do. And it's because all of these cases happened in towns that have extremely high deaths due to drugs laced with ‘fentanyl’. But i dont think it's fentanyl. I think it's something completely new. Something that kills some people and makes people super human at least for a bit”

Bucky's stare was incredulous but with a hint of belief still “I've never heard of anything that could do that and i'm 108 years old”

Julia groaned and rolled her eyes “I know. Its something completely new and–”

“And you need help finding out who is doing this so we can take them out?” He added emotionlessly.

Julius' cheeks turned bright red “... to find out why it works this way. B-but yes, so we can also stop this from happening”.

At that bucky just quirked an eyebrow. Julia coughed out of embarrassment “...I minored in Pharmacology….”.

“God you're weird” bucky snorted but with a slight smile on his lips

“So you’ll help?!” she shot up with excitement

“Hey, I never said that. But if what you're saying is true, I know some people who can definitely help us.” Julia smiled when he said ‘us’ but then quickly frowned

“No! It has to be just you!” she practically screamed, which caused him to lean back and give her a sketched out look “Not for any weird reason, I promise, it's just that out of everyone else, You're the only ‘avenger’ that i really trust..”

With that bucky let out a hard laugh “jesus Kid-”

“Julia” she quipped back mocking him

“Julia” he smiled and shook his head “Jesus Julia are you sure you have the right guy? I don't think there is a single person in the country, much less the entire globe that you consider ‘me’ the most trustworthy of the bunch”

Without missing a beat “why? Because of the whole winter soldier thing? That's exactly why I trust you the most.” her words came out so matter of fact and with such an honest earnesty it took Bucky by surprise. She noticed not only his change in expression but also his change in body language “I'm sorry, it's just that after everything that happened. All of it. And you'd be surprised what you can find on the dark web, classified documents and such, but after everything that's happened to you, you still have it in you to try to make a difference in this world. Like not just living out your life in peace, you actively keep trying to make the world a better place and I don't think just anyone could do that. I don't even know you but I think you're the most honourable and trustworthy man I know”.

That strange confession had thrown Bucky off guard. He was definitely not expecting some random stranger to just give him one of the biggest compliments he's ever had. Especially because it wasn't flattery, he could tell that she meant it. It wasn't something she had rehearsed either, she said it as simply as she would say that her hair is brown and her eyes green and her sweater is yellow and her car could probably use a cleaning. As the sudden awkward emotions passed he coughed to clear both his throat and the air

“You read my classified file on the dark web?” was what he came up in order break the tension that he was the only one to feel

“Well of course, it's best to get to know people as best as you can before you ambush them while they are exercising” she smirked before realizing that wasn't what he was probably talking about “Oh! I’m so sorry! I uh i -I mean yes i did but i- I guess that really is a HUGE violation of privacy! Honestly i never even thought i'd be able to talk you so I didn't really think- not that it makes it better- it was still really really wrong of me and—”

Bucky stopped her with a chuckle “Don't worry about it. Just so were all clear” he faced forward and looked at her through the rear view mirror, a shit eating grin evident on his face “You know all about me. Sgt James Buchanan Barnes, aka the Winter soldier. But you! Your ‘name’ is Julia Price. You are NOT a reporter with the Washington post. You ARE from New jersey. You have no issue crossing legal boundaries and you are trying to locate drug dealers?”

“I'm actually from ohio. We moved to Jersey in middle school” she huffed and sighed “but yes. I'm sorry I lied to you. I just needed you to listen” her voice was that of a child scolded. Bucky shook his head and chuckled

“Don't worry Jules” he saw the furrowed brow on her face, disapproving of the nickname. It just made it funnier for him. “I think you're onto something and for whatever reason you think that I'm your guy. A lot of people never gave me a break and as you said, I try to do right by the people. So I'm gonna help you."He adjusted the mirror and rolled his shoulders back, preparing to start the car.

“So that means you're in?!” her face lit up like the fourth of july and she grabbed the back of the driver's seat putting about an inch between them before she realized what she had done and settled back down with a sprinkling of pink on her face “....sorry. So uh”

“so “ bucky chuckled “are you going to get into the front and tell me where to go or are we just gonna sit here and wait for ‘the wolf of wall street’ to come back for us?”

“Actually from what I've noticed the drug doesn't last that long in people who don't have the genetic code to keep it strong. It's almost like it unlocks something” Julia started to rumble as she climbed into the passenger seat “ I think it has something to do with stem cells unlocking—” she was cut off by Bucky pushing her shoulder down.

“We can talk when I drive” he smiled but also not looking at her “so where to Ms.biochemist journalist?”

-

-

-

Like I said this I just chapter 1 of a fanfic based off of a dream I had and I thought it would make a cool story! Please please please tell me if you want more! Also please forgive any kind of typos, I don’t have a computer lol

[vividraft]

thanks to you I like the rain ✧˖*°࿐

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gn!reader x scaramouche

⇢ ˗ˏˋ summary: you moved into a new house, and a certain boy who you saw everyday, certainly cuaght your eye...

⇢ ˗ˏˋ note: this is a repost from my old account, which i deleted (@/rainstops),, and yes i combined all the parts

⇢ ˗ˏˋa/n: my old writing is all so... bad (cry) tbf i could have put more effort into it

When you moved into your new house, you didn't expect to see the same boy at your bus station every day. When you first saw him, he was wearing a white shirt, jeans and a light brown jacket. The spring breeze was cold. his eyes were lowered onto his phone, and a few strands of his purple hair fell into his face. 

you didn't move that far away, which means you still went to the same school, and as far as you can remember you never saw him before in your school. not even once he looked up from his phone, and he kept his headphones plugged into his ears at all times.

everyday you saw him, and not once did he look at you once instead of his phone. everyday you got on the same bus as him, but never got off the bus at the same time. Sometimes you saw him on the bus after school, but rather rarely.

Then suddenly he disappeared like he had never entered your life. you didn't see him anymore. you still took the same bus every day around the same times, but he didn't. it was crazy how a boy around your age you never even talked to can make you think about him that much.

That's when your mothers work shifts changed. She now left the house around the same time as you, and offered to drive you to school, every second week. and without hesitation you accepted her offer. Who would prefer to squeeze into a bus every morning?

Then one week, your mother was sick so she did not leave the house. which meant you had to take the bus again. 

Unfortunately it rained that day. maybe you could make it to the station without arriving soaking wet? Well, you couldn't.

this was probably the only time he noticed you first. The purple haired boy laid his eyes onto your wet school uniform, and on your hands which were probably cold from the temperatures, which were holding your phone, whose screen was covered in raindrops. you tried wiping them away, but your hands were just as wet as your screen. if not, then even wetter.

he let out a quiet sigh as he got a step closer to you, holding his umbrella over your head as well. That was when you noticed him as well.

you looked up to see what stopped the drops of water falling onto your face, when your eyes met with a transparent umbrella. your vision followed the hand who was holding the umbrella, to notice the boy, which you had missed a little, even if you didn't know him. his eyes were glued onto his screen as always, and white headphones still in his ears.

"thank you", you smiled.

Those were the first words he ever heard from you. you weren't sure if he heard you since he was wearing headphones, so you checked for small changes in his usually unbothered facial features. 

he pressed his lips into a small line, and blinked an unusual amount of times, as his shoulders seemed to relax.

"n...", he started, like he was rethinking his decision to say something.

"no problem"

-

you started wondering, how come you haven't seen him for so long?

but it actually just makes sense. He always takes the bus when you don't, and the other way around.

and now you were standing here with him, in the rain. his hand holding the transparent umbrella which was shielding the both of you from the cool drops of water.

your hair was messily sticking to your forehead, and yet although you looked like a mess, scaramouche still thought you looked mesmerizing.

just the way one of your hands was holding your phone, which your eyes were so focused on, while the other held onto the wet bottom rim of your shirt. the way the fingers of your one hand were dancing across the keyboard of your phone, trying their best as your hands were shaking from the cold. Scaramouche wanted to help you escape from the cold as well, but so far, there was nothing he could do.

The bus arrived, and you slid your phone back into your pocket, as scaramouche collapsed his umbrella after freeing it from most of the cold water still lying on the umbrella.

In the bus, two seats were free, which was perfect. scaramouche got to the seat first, his eyes on his phone just like you were used to it. he didn't say anything, but you could tell he made space for you, when he left the outer seat free. On days where there were more than two seats left, he sat on the outer seat since he preferred it if no one sat next to him. but not this time. 

you let yourself down on the seat next to him, and laid your hands in your laps, in hope to be able to warm them up, to no avail. scaramouche noticed, and took something from his pocket, to hand it to you. to your surprise, it was a rechargeable pocket warmer which... looked like a purple cat paw.

"are you sure-", scaramouche didn't let you finish your question when he placed the pocket warmer into your hands. 

Thanks to him, you finally warmed up a bit further.

your bus was about to arrive at your stop, and you wanted to give scaramouche his pocket warmer back.

"Thank you again for helping me today, here's your pocket warmer", you held it in your hand for him to take, but he shook his head.

"Keep it... until next time", he whispered the last three words while turning his head back to the window. 

you haven't thought about it much, but to you, his voice felt like a warm summer storm, with warm winds. you wished you could hear it more, but it seemed like he wasn't much of a talker.

you let out a warm chuckle, not thinking much of it, but for scaramouche, it made his heart bubble up. a sensation he wasn't sure if he ever felt before. 

"See you buddy", you placed a hand on his head while standing up to leave the bus, waving at him with one hand, and holding the paw pocket warmer in the other.

Scaramouche would have given away his stuff to just anyone. He wasn't sure when he would actually see you again, because unlike you, he did not understand yet why you just showed up again. 

The pocket warmer was his reason to talk to you again, and see you again.

-

after what happened the last time you saw scaramouche, you considered taking the bus at the same time that he does. but then again he didn't leave you much of a choice, since he gave you his pocket warmer. you had to return it to him.

just as planned, on the following day you saw him again. except this time you were not soaking wet. 

"hey!", you waved to him. 

"Here's your pocket warmer", you held your hand open for him to take his pocket warmer back. He took it and immediately put it in his pocket.

At this time, you didn't even know his name yet. and you wanted to know it, you really did. but would it come across as creepy if you just asked for it?

Scaramouche on the other hand is not sure why he took a liking to you. Maybe it was your [hair color] hair, or your eyes that seemed to light a spark, everytime you see a squirrel run up a tree, or maybe it was the way your shoulders loosened up every time you smelled the wind after a night of rain. or maybe it was just the way you greeted him every morning with a smile? all those small traits of yours that he noticed, made him feel a certain way. a way, he wasn't sure he felt before.

you decided that it was fine to ask for his name. if he wanted to be friends with you as well, then he'd be fine with the question.

"By the way, what's your name", you tried to make it sound as natural as possible. it  still felt unusual. you've known him for so long, yet you barely ever exchanged a single word.

"scaramouche", a short and simple reply.

Scaramouches mind played with the thought of asking you for your name, and he decided that it would be the right thing to do. his lips parted as he wanted to ask for your name. but you were faster.

"Cool name! mine is [name]", you replied.

That's how the both of you started to talk to each other everyday. But I don't mean actual conversations, all you say to each other everyday is "hi" or "good morning" or sometimes only a nod. you weren't sure if this was the way scaramouche wanted it to be, or if neither of you knew how to continue. but for you this was what made it worth and exciting getting up every morning.

you expected everything to stay the way it did, which made you upset in a certain way. a way which you couldn't explain, because could you really consider you and scaramouche friends? 

you stared on the floor when you noticed the bus arrive.

entering the bus you and scaramouche noticed the two empty seats once again, right next to each other.

The bus drive went along as usual, as you felt something heavy on your shoulder. it was the purple haired boy's head. his eyes were closed and he was very obviously asleep. his usually tense body and face was now relaxed, and for once he looked so very peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping unbothered for the first time in his life. 

for a short moment you considered waking him up, because you knew how he was going to react, if you told him he fell asleep on you. but then again you would want him to sleep as much as he needs. The bus ride was still for a good 15 minutes at least.

Shortly before you got to the station closest to your school, you decided to wake scaramouche up. but you weren't sure how. you decided on saying his name a few times and nudging him with your shoulder, because you soon noticed that saying his name wasn't enough. He blinked, his eyes still lidded. 

"Good morning sleepy head", you smiled at him. "i have to get up here, sorry for waking you"

Scaramouche continued blinking, very confused, until he understood why you had to wake him.

"did i...", 

"Yes you fell asleep on my shoulder, but don't worry about it!", you said, getting up from your seat and heading towards one of the doors of the bus.

you waved at the scaramouche once again, and instead of waving back, he turned his head away to hide his flushed cheeks, but you could still tell because his ears were red as well.

a/n: cringes and shrinks away...

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 6, In Which You Try To Look Away (It's Harder Than You Thought)

AO3

by the way, I saw today an art on twitter which is extremely Raul-coded

I am not a murderer, you thought as you ordered the ATM to give you another two hundred euros.

Even if I am, that guy deserved it, you thought as you re-inserted the card to give you two hundred more (damn those limits per withdrawal).

Even if he didn’t (and he did), nobody is going to miss him, and his fiancee will move on to the next lawyer in Oliver Peoples glasses soon enough, and besides, people die in freak accidents all the time. 

Even if they don’t, well, if every death wish resulted in an actual death, humanity would be long extinct and that wouldn't be your fault, would it now?

With that comforting thought, you pocketed the last of your ten thousand euro goal, tired from having to repeat the same task for almost an entire hour. Anything can happen, Raphael could cut off access to his account on a whim, but cold hard cash was something you could hold onto even if you fell from his grace.

"Ms. Berger," came a voice on your phone with a strong French accent the moment you picked up. It was Raphael’s banker, Francois-something, who gave you the PIN in the first place. “Would it be easier if we delivered cash directly to you? Your withdrawals keep triggering our petty theft alerts."

"Oh no, thank you," you replied, trying your best not to sound like a petty thief. "I have enough for now... I think."

“As you wish,” came his slow reply.

"But uh... could you help me make two bank transfers?" You asked after a pause. "One to my mother, Franziska Berger… (how much how much how much?) ten thousand euro, I’ll send you the details… and one for the stray cats shelter... (how much how much how much?)… five thousand euro?"

Too much? How do you quantify the cost of accidentally-on-purpose getting some useless yuppie run over by a bus in terms of absolving your sins? 

Five thousand felt somewhat stingy.

“The stray cats?” The banker repeated back at you as though questioning whether this was some sort of coded drug deal.

“Yes,” You replied firmly. “They do incredible work. Ah! The kids cancer foundation, too. Five thousand. No, ten".

That seemed about right for the guy’s life.

"Ah, you meant charity. Of course," Francois replied, relief and amusement in his tone. "Lovely, great for the ESG rating. Make sure to get an invoice for the tax refund."

It didn’t quite sit well with you to use stray cats and kids for tax refunds, but you still said yes and stashed the money deep down the rucksack. You got a bit of cash for now (soon you will go for more, because who knows), but it’s still not an income source. 

What could be? Should you ask Raphael to buy an apartment in your name, or two? You could rent it. Or a company? Tenebris, for instance. Just imagine their gobsmacked faces - especially after they gave you the boot without even a severance package.

That was a delicious thought.

You let it simmer as you sat down in an tourist-trappy Italian restaurant in the city centre, just about to order an Aperol Spritz when your phone began to ring again. You are in high demand these days.

"Anya!" Your mum gasped on the other end of the line. “I saw you on TV!"

Sure, the accident was all over the news channels. Some blurred out the dead body better than others did. You would bet your last cent that the unedited version got more views.

"Yeah, gruesome," you grimaced.

"Gruesome? Why? Ah, you mean the guy. Well, that happens all the time; they really give driving licences to anyone these days. I do hope the driver rots in prison for what he did to this poor young man. Anyway, no. I called to say, I saw you and Raul on the news”.

She managed to infuse an uncanny amount of innuendo into the last sentence.

“Raul is such a handsome man, Anya”, she sighed wistfully. “Quite the catch you got there, huh?”

There we go again. 

“What, way out of my league?”, you joked dryly. “I’ve been told that”.

“Oh, no, what nonsense! You are such a pretty girl!” Your mother protested. “More importantly, a good-hearted girl raised right; I am glad there still are decent men who still appreciate that. Did you meet Raul for a lunch?”

“Oh no,” You replied nonchalantly. "We actually… ah, we actually went to a church. He introduced me to his pastor."

Your mother sucked in an audible gasp like she'd won some kind of maternal lottery.

“His pastor, already? I am so happy for you, sweetie.”, she finally managed to say. “This is like a fairy tale come true”.

Yeah, a Grimm one.

“Sort of”, you chuckled. '“By the way, you will receive a bank transfer soon, ten thousand euro, don’t be afraid. It’s… well, take care of your health, okay? Get a decent dentist this time, a private one”.

“Where do you have the money from? Is it his?”, your mum suddenly sobered up. “Anya, what on earth is he paying you money for? I hope you are not doing anything… anything…”

"No," you cut her off and licked your lips, recalling the last thing that passed between them. “Mom, please! It's not his money, it's my company’s – long story.”

One that you haven't come up with yet.

Besides, if Raphael was giving you ten thousand dollars (thirty-five thousand in total with your other expenses for the day) for one blowjob, then you definitely had a successful career, just not in the field you had planned on.

“Okay,” your mum replied. “But still...you don’t need to...why don’t you buy some nice dresses instead? What on earth was that t-shirt you were wearing to a church?"

“I am hanging up”, You threatened half-heartedly.

You didn’t. You listened in the background to the story of how your mum’s school friend called her to say she saw “her Anya” with a very handsome man on the TV, nonplussed by the fact there was a scattered corpse in the background. 

In the meanwhile, you opened Google on your phone. 

You didn’t fancy doing that before - annoyed by that fake persona Raphael had created. But since he obviously put that much effort in it, it’s worth looking up what he had been up to and for how long.

Nothing good, for sure.

"…Raul D'Avergni, managing partner of an international law firm, inherited the private equity conglomerate, Avernus Capital. This transition was precipitated by the unexpected and tragic passing of his father..."

"…By December 2024, D'Avergni's high-profile liaison with Isabelle Arnaud, actress and socialite, had unceremoniously ended..."

No. Who? No. You didn’t need any ex-girlfriends.

"…Ms. Arnaud levied abuse accusations against Mr. D'Avergni…”

Oh, no…

“…she retracted her claims within a mere twenty hours and ensued a public apology for any harm inflicted upon D’Avergni’s reputation..."

Hmm.

"…her psychiatrist intervened on her behalf. Evidently, Arnaud was grappling with severe mental health issues that led her to make unfounded allegations..."

Raul likes them crazy, they said? Or makes them crazy?

"…Ms. Arnaud now resides in a high-end medical institution in Monaco, focusing on her mental health issues..."

What did Isabelle look like, you wondered, as your mum finished her talk and wished you a good day. You typed her name into the search bar, holding your breath in anticipation as you half-expected to see Hope's face staring back at you.

The woman clinging to Raphael's arm at some fancy film premiere bore no resemblance.

Your stomach sank as if it had plunged into the depths of hell.

She was exactly the type of woman Raphael should have on his elbow; a timeless beauty, but something more Renaissance like, the kind of faces humankind seemed to have stopped producing. She was in her mid-twenties, as well, but… hell, you could not hold a candle to that. Few could. 

Not even the Tavs. She resembled her namesake, Isabelle Adjani, in her youth, maybe even better.

The pictures showed her laughing and looking deeply in love while gazing up at Raphael, while he offered only a very formal smile to the camera. So not Hope then. Nothing like their story. She was in love, he wasn’t. 

Good.

Later snaps by paparazzi painted a different picture: a gaunt woman hidden behind oversized sunglasses and swallowed up by her hoodie, clutching to her coffee cup. 

With a swift click, you banished Isabelle from your screen and plunged further into Raphael's (Raul’s) life story.

You found a photo of Raphael in his twenties (yes, just like the Tumblr post you hated, and no, you wouldn't have fucked him at that age), caught up in a minor scandal in Sankt Moritz (apparently his fraternity brother had pissed on the Swiss flag), more gossip, his philanthropic affairs for local theatres and art galleries, numerous articles praising his professional achievements, and interviews with Lawyer and WSJ and the like. There was mention of a brief marriage and divorce in his early thirties, but when you tried to Google the woman's name, nothing came up.

The whole thing left a sour taste in your mouth. This was someone's real life story, not a fictional character. Raphael wasn't just some wealthy corporate jerk; he was a half-devil from Avernus, which was infinitely better and more sympathetic.

You were well aware that Raphael wasn't exactly a good guy. But he had his rules; he had to have his rules. As for the whole thing with Hope though... What exactly was she? An idea? A person? The fandom barely discussed her, and what little they did, you didn't like; all horrible takes, every single one.

The whole plot felt half-baked.

Anyway, what seeing Isabelle did motivate you to do was to take a real stroll down the city's most expensive boutique street.

Now, the first thing you bought was not because you wanted or needed anything, but because Raphael expected you to. You were not much of a materialist anyway; you were ideologically opposed to consumerism. These things were overpriced, generally not worth it and, on a larger scale, represented everything that was wrong with society.

You decided to enter a Valentino store out of curiosity, as you had never been inside one before. The saleswoman's disdainful look at your T-shirt motivates you to buy a black dress with a white collar, not necessarily because you liked it, but because you want to prove that you can afford it, despite the price tag of two thousand euros. 

Well, you liked it a little. The wool and silk blend was great to touch.

The details of the rest of the shopping trip became a bit hazy. You had your reasons; the consort of an Archdevil Supreme had to look really nice. If you couldn't be as pretty as Isabelle, you could at least dress as well as she did. So you started with some nice blouses and trousers, and a (just one) jacket. With that, you needed shoes. With shoes, of course, you needed a bag. Now that you had a bag (you closed your eyes as the price flashed at the till), you needed some jewellery (you needed to see what all the fuss about Tiffany's was about). And, of course, you needed make-up. 

At each shop, the sales assistants smiled wider and wider as you piled more and more bags onto your arms. By the seventh stop, it felt like their smiles were entering uncanny valley territory. 

Eventually, the banker would call you, right? But when exactly would that be? You tried to find out, but failed. It had to be over forty thousand.

The thought made you dizzy. In one day you had spent your entire year's salary. Now all you could do was hope that Raphael wouldn't make you work off the debt somehow. Unless it was the kind of work your mother suspected you were already doing for him.

You came out of the last shop with five bags and the feeling that you were a very shitty socialist. Since you couldn't carry any more, the shopping concierge (apparently it's a real job) offered to store the bags until your driver picked you up, and just as you were about to say which bloody driver, whom do you take me for, you remembered that you actually had one.

"Mrs Berger," the receptionist said cheerfully the moment she saw you in the door. "Nice to see you again! How can I help you? Oh, yes. The driver, of course. Yes, of course, let me put you through to Mr D'Avergni's personal assistant".

Oh, it's Mrs Berger and my pleasure? They were wondering if the rumours about you wanting the guy to be run over by a bus were already out there. The personal assistant's name was Camilla, her voice was the embodiment of professionalism, and she was the one who could take you to the driver, who was there in no time.

His name was Yuri and he was more talkative than you would have liked. Gruff, huge, way too big for the car he was driving (any vehicle known to man would be too small for him), with a deep booming voice and the face of someone who had spent half his life behind bars.

"Have you seen that poor bastard? All over the main road," he remarked as he passed the street cleaners. "Probably too busy fiddling with his phone to keep an eye out."

"Mghgm," you offered. 

"So, are we stopping by your place first, Miss Berger? Boss said you wanted to get some things first. Are you moving in?"

"Am I?" You ask, surprised by the news yourself, and then think to yourself: "Why not?”

Why the hell not.

****

You didn't waste any time. With a tidy suitcase in tow, you were out the door of your apartment before Yuri could get too bored. You packed the essentials - toothbrush, laptop, documents - and a few other things that suddenly felt crucial to your life.

Out the car window you watched the cityscape change from urban jungle to manicured suburbia and finally to a small gated community. The driver talked politics (he had exactly the kind of convictions you'd expect), then about how amazing Raul was (and how extremely open-minded he was to give an ex-con a job), before returning to politics. 

You didn't ask what crime Yuri did his time for. 

You knew it was Raphael's house the moment you saw it through the car window. Who else would live in such a place? Not a house, that's too boring a term; a villa, all intricate stonework, marble and terracotta, such a flamboyant display of wealth that it should have been taxed just to exist. 

Only a devil or a mafia don would call such grandeur home. So much, too much, theatrical to the point of grotesqueness; no real person could possibly live like this. You couldn't help but wonder if Raphael had been influenced by the films he had seen - perhaps he had developed a taste for modern cinema.

He must have liked The Godfather.

This place. The fountains, the statues (classical, Roman, as if sculpted by the ghost of Michelangelo), the gardens. You wondered how many souls it took to keep this whole thing running.

The gates opened and the car drove you into an underground car park that was already very busy and very Italian: Ferraris, Maseratis, Lamborghinis. You counted; eight. Who needed eight cars? Not even one for each day of the week. 

The lift took you up; Yuri left your shopping bags and suitcase in the foyer and said goodbye.

You'd never set foot in such a house before; the closest you'd ever come was drooling over Sotheby's property listings.

Why would anyone need all this space? For just one person? It was at least six hundred square metres; and the guest and service house looked like another two hundred. The kitchen and dining area was three times the size of your apartment.

You could play golf here.

For what it's worth, the villa didn't remind you of the House of Hope. Firstly, it was completely empty; the servants, if they were in there, managed to make themselves invisible. Second, it lacked the baroque, replaced by the dolce vita and flair of a Lake Como residence. Thirdly, there were no self-portraits, not even pictures, nothing to suggest that the man who lived here had a face, a history, let alone a family.

The first floor was devoted to entertaining guests: the kitchen, the dining room, the library, the ballroom (you guessed this kind of rooms used to be called ballrooms, he even had a piano in it). The second floor was half-locked, except for the master bedroom (the bed easily could accommodate two orthons and a cambion sandwiched between them) and the dressing room. 

There was also a basement - the entrance blocked by a number lock. You considered trying the PIN combination, but decided you didn't want to snoop down there... well, you wanted to snoop very badly, but you didn't want to face the possible consequences. Unless they resembled those in his private club.

So you roamed both floors twice before staking claim to your new sleeping quarters in the master bedroom by putting your suitcase down there. You checked everything else in the room: Raphael's bedside glasses, his choice of books (predictably, Machiavelli, but not The Prince, another book you had never heard of called Mandragola), even his dark silk pyjamas, which lay on the chaise awaiting their owner's return. You open his drawer: hand lotion, velvet sleeping mask, lubricant, two opera tickets (Götterdammerung) from about a month ago... 

Then curiosity led you to look under his bed, where he indeed had something stored: a large black storage box.

Oh, you just had to have a look. 

Just to get an idea of what’s on the evening programme.

Handcuffs, the real kind, the police kind, metal ones. The thought of all the women (and men) who might have been bound with them, as jealous as it made you feel, was titillating. A whip and a crop. Yes, that works for you. And what's this? Butt plugs? Only if they were still sealed in their original packaging (you were not into that kind of hand-me-downs) and way smaller. A chastity belt? Well, that's... intriguing, but probably not in your first month together. A hook? That can stay where it is.

At least nothing too extreme like needles or enemas or any of the other disgusting things you sometimes saw on weird porn sites.

Underneath all that, toys and accessories, lay another plain black box. Oh, a box in a box. Something was written on it.. 

GOOD EVENING CURIOUS LITTLE MOUSE

"Good evening," you said as you opened the lid.

Then promptly closed it again.

"No," you said. "No, no, no. It was just a fic I read and liked, I was very horny, but it's not really my thing. No, thank you. Just because I didn't have a father doesn't mean I have daddy issues. I don't care about the guy, he never cared about me, end of story".

You took a deep breath before opening the box again, hoping that the items inside had disappeared. 

But to your dismay, they were still there: a velvet collar adorned with "Daddy's Little Mouse" in shimmering gold thread, a headband with mouse ears, red lace cobweb-thin lingerie and a tail-butt plug (thankfully still in its original packaging and on the smaller side). The tail was furry and tipped with white, so you must have been a dormouse.

All of the toys were top quality, handmade, and incredibly vulgar. Well, no surprise, having seen what Haarlep was wearing in his house.

You closed the box shut again.

"I'd rather cook us something to eat," you suggested, getting up. "Some pasta. I bet you like pasta?"

You definitely liked pasta and hoped that Raul (Raphael, Raphael) would not have you hanged on the hooks and tortured for your very non-Italian interpretation. You hoped in vain, because he chimed in and tried to stop you from committing a crime:

"Working late. Don't bother with dinner. Take some time to relax and enjoy yourself. R".

As you descended the stairs, ignoring his text, you wondered - did he ever cook? Or was his kitchen just for show, with the real work done in the servants' quarters (do they still call them quarters?).

You forgot that question the moment you saw what was lying on the marble kitchen counter.

The same box you had left upstairs, still with 

GOOD EVENING DISOBEDIENT LITTLE MOUSE 

on it. 

You blinked and took two large steps back. 

The box seemed to crawl forward in response.

You shrieked; this was a bit too much. Raphael's presence, the supernaturality of it, had been subtle before; now it was becoming a bit performative.

"I got your hint," you said, your voice a shaky laugh. "Don't scare me, please. Please."

The box stayed where it was, but it radiated an energy of impatience, as if it might jump at you if you neglected it any longer.

“Fine,” you conceded, coming a bit closer. “A little romance would’ve been nice but…”

"Setting romantic atmosphere," a cheerful female voice said.

who the fuck who the fuck who the fuck

Alexa. 

Fucking smart home systems. The lights dimmed to a soft orange glow, the heavy curtains closed with a soft whoosh and a familiar tune echoed off the walls, the ballroom piano playing in the distance:

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

The melody was familiar and so was the voice behind it - smooth, silky and oh so captivating (the adjectives you would use to describe it could fill many romance novels). A deep, rich baritone. You chuckled - had Raphael discovered blues? It suited him. 

You know I cannot stand it

You running around

You loved his interpretation of the song. It felt so intimate, him singing to you, so... very, very special. Your fear vanished in an instant; you poured yourself a glass of wine and took a luxurious sip.

"I'll put these on for you," you laughed, putting all the flirt you ever had in this laugh. "But don't expect me to call you 'Daddy'."

There was no protest; Raphael was too busy singing, pouring his entire soul into it. You made yourself busy too; stripping. You weren't very skilled (any skilled), but the thrill of being watched by him awakened something in you. You caught your reflection in the mirror and damn, you were hot. 

Shrugging off your shirt and sliding down your plain black briefs, you swayed your hips at your reflection as the wine worked its magic on your mind. For once in your life, you felt genuinely attractive; he made you feel genuinely attractive. The sexiest you'd ever been. 

Slipping into the silky red lace lingerie he had chosen for you (splurged on, because it was a La Perla) - you fastened the collar around your neck. A long golden chain dangled from it, wrapped twice around the hook and cascaded down your back. Then you put the mouse ears - not cartoonish, not Minnie Mouse ones, but real fur and incredibly lifelike - on your head like a headband. 

You looked like...well, precisely what your mother suspected you were doing to pay the bills. But at least high-end. Very high-end. The only thing worse than being an escort is being a cheap one.

But there was one more item left in the box.

"Ehh," you said at the sight of the mouse tail, especially the part that was meant to be inserted. "I'm going to need... I'm going to the bedroom."

It had been ages since your last foray into such play; back when you were with that boyfriend who constantly pestered you about anal and found it somehow arousing to "accidentally" (sure, mate) poke you and mumble an insincere "oops, wrong hole". 

You didn't stick around much longer after that.

Stretched out on Raphael's sumptuous bed, you slicked up everything - the plug, your pussy, your arse - with copious amounts of lube. First, some warming. So you began to rub yourself, two fingers finding their familiar way to your clit. You couldn't shake the crawling feeling of being watched, every inch of your body scrutinised by unseen eyes.

"Raphael," you called out into the empty room, desperate for some form of interaction or response. "I would love it if you would join me... or say something pleasant”.

Now would be the perfect time to call me a good girl.

But there was no response, just an eerie silence in the room. Feeling too naked and too slutty, you pulled the blanket over you, a makeshift barrier between you and his eyes. Under the fortification, tucking the tail in seemed less daunting.

Before you could get down to business, there was a jerk at the blanket, which fell to the cold floor, leaving you bare again. Then another tug on the chain attached to your collar, pulling you closer to the bedpost.

"I'm sorry," you gasped breathlessly, both hands instinctively reaching for your collar. "I won't hide."

The chain didn’t let go, making a point out of a slight pressure around your neck. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the task at hand, stroking your clit as you guided the plug inside you. 

You told yourself to relax and take it slow; just imagine it's Haarlep. How many times had you dreamed of being squeezed and stretched between the two of them? It was always Haarlep who took you from behind; it just seemed more their style.

The plug slid in deeper. It didn't hurt, and the little discomfort it caused added to the excitement. 

Damn, this is so dirty. 

"It's in," you said as the plug settled inside you. "All the way in. What's next?"

The words were barely out of your mouth when the golden chain, suddenly a snake-like lasso, wrapped tightly around your wrists.

Pulled them towards the bedpost, stretched out and bound tightly to either side. Fear gripped you and you clenched around the plug, pulling your knees tight together.

Tightly. Very tight. A little too tight. You tried to wriggle, the metal biting your skin; you could move your hips a little, but no more. 

You couldn't get out yourself, which was not good news when you were alone (well, almost) in a very big house. Your mind immediately thought of that girl in Gerald's Game.

"Raphael?" you asked. “It’s not that kind of game, is it? It’s a nice game? Can we play a nice game?”

He did not answer, but you heard footsteps. Footsteps coming down the long corridor. Confident, quick and very purposeful.

Stay calm, stay calm, it's him, it's him, who else could it be? Haarlep? The orthon? The driver? 

The door swung open.

It was Raphael, and he was visibly surprised to see you in this state, which was absolute bullshit considering he was responsible for tying you to this very bed. 

"Well, I'll be damned," he said, covering the distance to the bed in two strides. "What a welcome home surprise, piccola." 

Raphael gave you a lecherous, wet-lipped smile and knelt on the bed between your legs. There was something boyish about it, an expression you'd never seen in the game, as if he'd just found his first bike under the Christmas tree.

You searched for “piccola” earlier today: “baby” or “little girl” in Italian. 

"I'm not going to call you Daddy," you repeated, and Raphael shook his head and laughed, not seeming at all horrified at the thought (and he should be).

"I have some compelling evidence to the contrary, Daddy's little mouse," he teased, his fingers playing with your collar. 

"Anything but Daddy," you pleaded. "That's just... demeaning."

Weirdly incestual, too. You haven’t even seen the guy, not a photo, not a… (don’t think of him why the fuck would you think of the old bastard now).

“This is the whole appeal of it, is it not?”, he said. “How would you prefer to address me then?"

Raphael? Something told you that telling him that would make him very angry, and you weren't exactly in a position to want an angry man on top of you. Raul? No, that name just felt completely wrong and made you feel like you were in a Spanish soap opera. 

Raphael began to unbutton his shirt one button at a time, revealing a white undershirt, which he then took off. 

His physique was impressive for a man of his age; not those bodybuilder abs from bg3 but a well-toned body shaped by workouts and diets, which seemed to be very much at odds with his indulgent ways. Rough brown hair spread across his chest and lower abdomen against honey-tanned skin. Every inch of him seemed so put together, so perfectly groomed.

"Master," you finally decided (there was this one fanfic…) as you spread your legs wider in an invitation. 

"Master?" Raphael seemed amused, his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the fabric. "Such flattery. So this makes you my slave girl? Tied up and ready for me to use as I please?"

Reading Raphael say such things was one thing, but hearing him actually say them in real life made you feel embarrassed. It was a bit, ugh... 

“You get flustered easily for someone who waited for me dressed like this, little mouse,” Raphael raised an eyebrow at your see-through lace. “Topolina." 

He wrinkled his nose and laughed, as if the word was funnier in Italian, and poked the tips of your mouse ears. You wanted him so badly that your lips caught his as he came closer and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. He kissed your back, his hands moving up and down your body. 

"How the hell did you manage..." he mused aloud as he studied your bound wrists.

His fingers ventured between your legs, and the moment he stumbled upon your tail, his whole body twitched with excitement, his breath catching in his throat as he traced the soft fur to reach the base of the plug. 

The playful gleam in his eyes was replaced by an intense, wild desire.

"Merda," he breathed out. "Look at that. Aren't you a dirty little girl?"

You cringed at how pornographic the line sounded (his suddenly much thicker Italian accent didn't help), but Raphael seemed to find it excruciatingly erotic.

In one swift motion, he lunged forward and forced your legs apart, his hands pulling your knees towards your chest, folding you in until your muscles screamed in protest at the stretch. 

Without warning, he thrust deep inside of you. You gasped in surprise; no preliminaries, no foreplay, no taking it slowly, just raging, explosive lust.

Fortunately, your own fingers had done their job earlier, so despite the brutal force of his first thrust, pleasure surged through you, along with a sharp twinge of friction as his cock rubbed against the toy lodged inside you.

He seemed to relish the sensation and so did you. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as your body arched beneath him; stretched and pinned by his weight, trapped, surrendering to the relentless pounding that followed - raw and invasive and yet so fulfilling.

You were so looking forward to coming again from his penetration alone. The mere thought made you pull harder on your restraints, craving the delicious pain of being bound. The furry tail must have tickled his balls because he tucked it under you so that it would tease you instead. 

"Cross your ankles behind my back," Raphael rasped into your shoulder as he grazed it with his stubbled chin. "Yes, just like that... now tilt your hips."

You responded with your most submissive “yes, master”, making his cock twitch inside you, and then sifted your hips to better accommodate his pleasure. Wrapped your legs tightly around him, pulling him in deeper, pain-pleasure soaring through you. You sniffed his hair. 

His cologne (worn leather, cherry liqueur, bitter almonds) smelled so good oh so good.

He slid his arms underneath your arse, lifting you towards him at every thrust. 

Raphael said few words after that, grunting and thrusting and thrusting. Something about him was different this time - something very human - from how his sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead to his expressions of sheer lust that bordered on comical at times. 

One thing remained the same - the pleasure his pounding brought you, the familiar hooks of approaching orgasm - not any orgasm, the orgasm of being with him, his sharp talons - sinking inches deep into your flesh again. 

fuck does he feel good

rough or tender it just feels so good

his cock his tongue his breath on your neck

You screamed "fuck me", then once again, louder, not caring how obscene you sounded, and bit his shoulder without a second thought. 

The scream that escaped you was higher pitched than you had intended.

do whatever whatever you want whatever you want with me

Raphael's face creased with annoyance as his strong finger pressed into your cheek. "Easy…easy… piccola... I appreciate…. a good performance… not …overacting," he scolded as he went at you harder, pushing you to the point of pain.

hurt me

fuck me fuck me harder

You would have protested at the implication that you were pretending, but you were too busy coming under him, his hand clamped over your mouth before your temporal insanity could drive you to actually call him ‘daddy’.

If he wanted you to why wouldn’t you he is so sweet to you oh so sweet to you

The scream was swallowed by his palm as an orgasm, brutal in its intensity and lightning-fast, ripped through you, whip-snaked it. You greeted your release with a wail, biting into his hand. Raphael paused mid-thrust, apprehensive of how your pussy convulsed around him and your leg spasmed uncontrollably - if this was a performance, you deserved an award.

"You weren't pretending," he panted, awe-struck. "My apologies. You were not".

The realisation frenzied him; he spilled within a minute after, rutting into you with intensity belying his age. Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of you, his breath, cherries and tobacco, warming your throat as his cock softened within you.

"I may have gotten a little carried away," he said, sounding embarrassed and slightly apologetic as he lay down beside you. "But it seems you're more than content."

You eagerly and quickly nodded.

"Are you that... passionate with every man?" He asked as he helped you free your wrists - jealousy creeping into his voice at the mention of that mysterious 'every man'.

You couldn't help but laugh at the question. "No," you replied. "Far from it. You are not just any man. You are anything but."

Raphael let out a sigh of relief and kissed you, making no effort to hide how much your compliment pleased him. 

When you parted, you hopped awkwardly off the bed - the odd gait one adopts when they have a plug in them (no way were you going to remove it in his presence, no way) and cum was trickling down your thighs. 

Shit, the condom. Now you forgot to ask him to wear it.

Would he have?..

Ah, screw it. Google says Plan B is effective for up to 72 hours after unprotected sex, so you'll take it tomorrow - for tonight and last night. You'd never been this careless before, but hell, you'd never murdered people with a mere thought or slept with an Archdevil of Hell.

Raphael was still lying there, basking in the afterglow, when you returned.

"I have to admit, Anya... I'm seriously thinking of proposing," he murmured with such tenderness as you snuggled against him that you wondered if Raphael really was incapable of love.

"That would be quick," you replied, but made it sound like you wouldn't mind at all.

"Quick?" he scoffed. "A man knows what he wants in a woman the moment he sets eyes on her. Unfortunately, there are very few left in your generation."

You smiled, already dreaming of being the Archduchess of Hell, and half-dreaming in general from sheer exhaustion and satisfaction. 

"They lied about you being bad in bed," you murmured as sleep began to take over. "I knew it was all bullshit."

"They?" He asked, his face contorting into a scowl at your sentence. "Who are they? Anya, for God's sake, stop reading those trashy tabloids."

You closed your eyes for a moment. When you half-opened them, you saw him on the balcony outside, in a black silk robe, AirPods in his ears and a cigarette in his mouth. Behind him you could see the smoke and fire of the Avernus mountain ridge, the fireballs cascading down from the sky. Beautiful. 

Raphael gestured with his free hand, aggressively, and you listened a little closer; fortunately he was more than loud.

"...we will bleed them dry if they dare to break our agreement..."

"...they knowingly and willingly accepted our terms, they will choke on the consequences..."

"...all must pay their dues, sooner or later..."

"...an army? We have our own army..."

A yawn escaped your lips as you snuggled deeper into the plush pillows of the massive bed. Everything, except the AirPods, fit perfectly into the image of Archdevil Supreme.

You felt so chosen, so alive, so gloriously alive, and your life had just begun.

"Are you coming soon?" you called out as you tried to think of an appropriate nickname for him - something intimate, but not too cheesy. Darling? Baby? Sweetheart? Love? My favourite devil?

But he beat you to it before you could decide.

"Soon, my love. Rest," he blew you a kiss. With a loud click, he shut the glass door and cut you off from hearing the rest of their conversation. You let out a contented sigh and rolled over onto your side, drifting into a peaceful slumber.

"My love," you said in your sleep. "Raphael called me his love”.

****

The urgent need to go to pee woke you. The time was a mystery, but it must have been late enough for Raphael to have gone to bed too.

He was pressed close to you, his hand cupping your breast. You looked over your shoulder; asleep, peaceful, in buttoned pyjamas, and it was the one moment when he did not look threatening at all; vulnerable, if anything. You kissed him on the cheek and he smiled in his sleep and held you close. 

When you came back from your short (not really, a good thirty metres to the toilet) trip to the bathroom, you snuggled closer to him, preparing to doze off again, and then you heard something.

You listened closer, thinking you had dreamed it first.

Soft, gentle whimpers. You recognised the voice. You didn't know how, but you did. Something childishly cheerful and slightly mad about it.

Oh, no. No. You were happy, spooning with Raphael, and you didn't need this shit right now, especially when things were finally going so well.

Hope, please, you begged.

You got all your happy endings, so many of them, wonderful endings where Raphael was killed by the player and you got to live and your revenge and whatnot. Can I have one too, please? Without you whining and making me feel guilty for something I didn't even do?

"My love," you asked Raphael softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his side. "Can you let her go?"

"Mmm," Raphael murmured in his sleep, "Sure, piccola. Whatever you wish for."

You waited for him to act, but he only tightened his grip on the blanket and shifted slightly.

"You have all the hells and the crown and everything (and me). You don't need her anymore," you tried again. 

"Anya, let me sleep," Raphael mumbled into his pillow, away from your voice. You tried to hide from her voice under your pillow as well, but you could still hear the soft, painful moans. 

Ugh. 

They were very, very far away, but still there.

"She's still wailing," you complained, taking him by the shoulder and shaking him a little. "Raphael? Raphael?"

 "Who is wailing?” he groaned in pure frustration, and then made a half-hearted attempt at listening. “Ah, merda, not that bloody bitch again! I swear, I will plug that hole myself!"

You tried to make sense of that sentence and couldn't, but what you did get was that it promised Hope nothing good and sounded vaguely vulgar, which was even worse. 

"Don't hurt Hope," you begged, appalled by his threat. "She doesn't deserve it!"

"I don't deserve it either," Raphael retorted before turning away from you. "Please be quiet."

He should direct this request to his prisoner. 

What had really happened between them? You didn't think his obsession with Hope was sexual because, well, because, for example, he fucked you and you both enjoyed it, so he was definitely into consent, and Hope was more like a metaphor, a concept, a point to be made, and some shitty fucking rushed Act 3 writing.

"You... you didn't hurt her like that, did you? There was some talk... With that boudoir line... It was misinterpreted... right?"

Right. He may be evil, but he is lawful evil. He believed in consent and seduction, not violence. 

"I haven't hurt anyone, what in damnation are you talking about?" he growled through gritted teeth, and you let out a small sigh of relief.  "But if I don't get some rest, I might."

He hadn't hurt Hope. He wouldn't lie. He cannot; devils can deceive, but not outright lie. You read it somewhere.

Okay, he's not going to let her go and he's not going to help you and Hope was certainly not going to shut up. You have to go to her. And say what? Say what? Sorry for your predicament and the centuries of torture, Hope, but could you please be a bit quieter, me and Raphael just had sex and are trying to sleep? 

Let her go? And lose his favour, his credit card and the place next to him in his bed?

Yes, come on. It would be the right thing to do and you would do it. 

Where was she anyway, you wondered as you walked down the stairs. In the cellar? Hanging from the ceiling? You still don't have the key to the cellar. When you reached the ground floor, the kitchen, you realised that the noises were not coming from the cellar - they were coming from outside.

Outside? Did he hang her on a tree on this cold April night? 

You put on his trench coat and slipped into your sneakers. This was so unnecessarily evil, you thought, suddenly feeling much less happy about everything, especially as the pained whimpering got closer. Hardly human, you thought, more like a creature trapped and desperately trying to free itself. 

Yes, definitely more of a creature.

In fact, it reminded you of a dog. You searched the darkness of the night, determined to find it, and there it was: a dachshund wedged between the ground and a large, weathered fence, whimpering into the still night. 

The poor thing must have thought it was quite the burglar, trying to burrow under a hole in the fence to pull through. But it only managed to get itself stuck.

"Oh, poor baby," you said as you approached the dog. "Let's see if we can get you out."

You pulled on the fence to widen the opening and the cub was free.

It licked your hand in gratitude. Dogs love you. All animals do, and it's quite mutual. You had a harder time with people.

There were distant, panicked cries for Steffie somewhere in the distance; the owner was out on a rescue mission. You took the dachshund in your lap and went to meet her.

The woman was in her sixties, dark brown hair, a very aged beauty, and she looked a bit funny in her fur coat and slippers. She had tears in her eyes. Steffie ran to her as soon as she saw her.

"You silly little girl," she scolded the whining, complaining dog in her arms. She had a thick American drawl. "Why do you keep going back to his house? What's so special about him? I told you he was bad news!"

"Is he?" You asked the question when you knew the answer.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, forcing a smile to her lips. "I didn't mean it like that. You're Raul's new girl, aren't you? Samantha. I live down the road. Sorry about Steffie, she's very... adventurous."

There were exactly three houses on the street, a mile apart each.

"You meant it like that," you said. "If it's about Isabelle, she's apologised and withdrawn her accusations".

There was a pause, and Samantha's perfectly friendly smile cracked a little.

"Well, in that case," she said, before adding with forced cheerfulness, "thank you for looking after Steffie, sweetheart! You take care now."

She tried to walk away, but turned back; she was as curious as her little dog.

"I was walking Steffie when that French girl ran out of his house," she said, unable to resist the urge to gossip. "She was naked and babbling like a lunatic. She had blood on her, too".

"Did she scream something about the devil?" you asked after a pause.

"Devil? No. Not that I speak French," said the woman, making a last attempt to walk away, but failing. "Listen, I have a daughter about your age. And if some guy - ANY guy - tried to put that kind of crap around her neck, I would chop his arms off".

What did she mean? 

The collar. 

She meant the "Daddy's little mouse" collar you still have around your neck. 

Oh, don't kink shame me, you were going to say, but that kind of talk sounds ridiculous in real life. She managed to shame you very badly, so you hid the collar under your trench coat and mumbled, "I put it on myself".

That actually made her look at you again. Steffie looked at you with the same expression. 

Everybody's out to guilt trip you - Hope, the dog (the dog you saved!), the neighbour, the guy who got thrown under the bus, and you've done nothing but enjoy some devil sex.

The woman finally decided it was time to go, muttering "You need Jesus, sweetheart" before she left.

That's your God who kept women in collars and on leashes for centuries, not the Devil, you thought bitterly, and unlike the Devil, he didn't even fuck them. 

Well, only once.

***

You were back in the en-suite bathroom, washing your face in the marble sink.

Who the fuck was this man, really? What the fuck was happening? 

Your hand shot out, yanking open a cabinet door. An array of men's grooming products stared back at you - cologne, razor, facial moisturiser and scrub, deodorant, shaving gel, sleek, expensive bottles. A man took care of his looks.

Another cabinet creaked open under your touch. 

Your eyes darted to the label on the bottle - Risperidon. You had no idea what it was, but you memorised it for a future Google search, repeating it under your breath like a mantra. 

"Are you rummaging through my belongings, nosy little mouse?”

He was dead asleep last time you checked!

You jerked, closing the cupboard and stumbling back to the bathroom sink, gasping for breath. "No," you stammered, turning to find him standing in the doorway. "I mean... yes. I can't sleep. I thought you might have some pills."

His eyes were canny; he didn't swallow your lie and made no pretence of doing so. He bridged the gap and hugged you from behind - frighteningly strong and wanting every ounce of that power to seep into your bones. His strength made you realise just how much of a level 1 human NPC you were.

"You don't have to violate my privacy when I'm not around, Anya," he whispered against your skin as he began to trail soft kisses down your neck. "If there's anything that's bothering you, just ask me directly. I want us to be honest with each other."

What was in the cellar? What kind of work does he do for you? Did he rape Hope? Or was it Haarlep? Where is Haarlep, by the way? Why does Raphael want to play Raul? 

"What happened to Isabelle?" you asked. 

"Ah, I see. Is that why you asked me if I had hurt anyone?" he said. "Is that what the tabloids told you?"

You nodded.

"Isabelle had an addiction," he admitted, the crow’s feet showing themselves. "It spiralled out of control. She had… a bout of psychosis, a mental breakdown. Made false accusations to the press. She's now getting the help she needs, poor girl”.

"Why was she covered in blood?" you pressed, looking at his reflection in the mirror as an infernal light danced in his orange eyes.

For all the fire in them, they seemed icy, impossibly cold for a man who had called you my love less than an hour ago. "How did you come by this information? You seem to know more than one would expect of you, Anya. There are things about you that make me... wonder. I have been giving you the benefit of the doubt, perhaps foolishly."

Your breath caught in your throat. “The neighbour”, you said. “Your neighbour told me”.

The truth you’d spilled slaked him, but only a little. He looked at you, jaw hardened.

"Samantha? I’ll have a word with her. Very well, we were making love when Isabelle had a psychotic episode."

Making love? Really? He did not make love to you.

"She lashed out at me," he continued. "It was my blood, Anya. I would never hurt her or any other woman. Without their consent, that is."

But that couldn't be true, because there was Hope - and many others who owed him, and Raphael might have been many things, but not a liar, and yet here he was, lying right to your face.

He did hurt people. Whether they deserved it, whether they brought onto themselves, that was a different matter, but he did hurt them.

"If you need proof, you can take a look at the psychiatrist's report," he offered coldly. "The authorities got involved... unfortunately."

"I believe you," came your shaky reply. 

You desperately wanted to. 

Raphael’s eyes flickered.

"Trust goes both ways, Anya," he whispered in your ear, running a finger along your collar. "If you do not trust me, then I will be forced to ask some very unpleasant questions myself. Do we understand each other?"

Which questions? He knows everything there is to know about you. He knows your browser history.

“We do”, you said, still looking in the mirror. “Of course we do, my love”.

"Is that so?” he smiled. "I suggest we go to our bed and put that theory to the test."

[rextasywrites]

Apple pies and sportscandy (Sportacus x reader) - Chapter 1/?

"As the wind started to blow the cold air into my face, I decided to retreat back into my new place. A couch with some cup noodles and a silly tv show was waiting for me. In the comfort of a fuzzy blanket while slurping up noodles, I wondered what my time in LazyTown would bring me. What kind of new adventures were waiting for me? Would the people in town like me?"

Reader has had enough and decides to move to LazyTown to take over the old closed down bakery. A zeppelin catches her eye on the the first night, but what if its owner does more than just catch her eye?

Warnings: in this chapter there is a mention of bullying, but only for plot reasons for a short time

Please enjoy this very much self indulgent multi chapter fic! :D

*

The first time I heard of this town, I was confused. Barely any people living in there, why would anyone move there? The city is so much better!

The second time I heard of this town, I had just finished a terrible day at the office and wanted to hide forever. There was just something so terrible about bullying, a thing that should have been left behind in middle school.

The third time I heard of this town, I decided to call it quits. It was one “prank” too much, one mean comment too much. The 2 week notice was more of a 2 minute notice, and with tears streaming down my face, I sat in the bus. The world seemed grey and the people around me frozen. On one stop, a man dropped his newspaper as he left and didn’t bother to pick it up. That’s what I did, and an ad caught my eye.

“Baker wanted - Starting point as soon as possible. Call Bessie Busybody for more information.”, and her phone number was added.

A few phone calls later, I sat in the train heading towards LazyTown.

I managed to cancel my lease rather quickly as the landlord already had a different person in their eye, someone whose rent they could charge up. Within days, I had everything packed, just two suitcases full of my stuff. I never needed more, as the apartment hadn’t felt like a home but just a place to stay in. And the rent in LazyTown wasn’t high, so maybe my bank account could relax for once.

The further I got away from the city, the more colour seemed to paint the landscape. The trees weren’t grey, if one looked left and right they saw mountains and sometimes even animals, not only the walls of yet another building. It felt like I could breathe for the first time in months, if not years. The train was nearly empty apart from two other people, but at the station LazyTown, I was the only one to leave. And it was true - there was no smog, the light wasn’t coming from street lamps but from the sun actually making its way to the surface, and somewhere, there were children playing without the fear of being run over by a reckless driver.

“There you are darling!”, I recognized the voice from the many phone calls we shared - it was Bessie! I turned around and we greeted each other, a kiss on the left cheek, a kiss on the right cheek. “Welcome to LazyTown! I am sure you’ll love it here! Oh, let me show you your new place right now! Are these suitcases yours? Let me help you…”

*

A short drive later, we were at my new place. The apartment was above the old bakery. Bessie had filled me in on the details - the old owner passed away many years ago, and nobody had bothered to fill in his role, so the building had been vacant ever since. I had some baking skills from back in the day before office work was paying more money, or at least I thought it’d get me more money. Instead, all it gave me was a stomach ulcer.

Prior to my arrival, Bessie had taken it upon herself to clean the apartment a bit, at least clean enough to make sure no spiders would cozy up to me in bed. Which was…not really a comforting thought, but Bessie assured that the only spiders they had in town were these tiny jumping spiders. Tomorrow, we’d check out the bakery together for things I could still use and which needed to be replaced. The mayor had promised to come up for most of the replacements, something I’d need to thank him for as soon as I would see him. 

But on this very day? All I wanted was to get a few things put up in my new home, and get some rest. Traveling by train always made me tired, and this whole day was one constant source of nervousness and anxiety running free.

Bessie left me to my own devices an hour later after helping me put my suitcases up into the 2nd floor where the apartment was. A few things were set up, such as putting new sheets on the bed and getting some groceries into the fridge, I was thankful for Bessie’s help, but she had to leave as she needed to attend super important meetings.

The sun was slowly setting, I stood in front of the bakery, taking in the first evening in my new home town. The birds chirped in the distance, some bugs were flying around. Speaking of flying around, I had spotted a zeppelin earlier today, but forgot to ask Bessie about it.

As the wind started to blow the cold air into my face, I decided to retreat back into my new place. A couch with some cup noodles and a silly tv show was waiting for me. In the comfort of a fuzzy blanket while slurping up noodles, I wondered what my time in LazyTown would bring me. What kind of new adventures were waiting for me? Would the people in town like me?

All the thoughts and the day in general had made me exhausted, so I threw the blanket off, put the empty cup into the bin and the chopsticks into the dishwasher, and myself right into bed.

From my bed, I had a clear view through a window. I hadn’t bothered to close the curtains, but from this point of view, I was able to see the zeppelin again. A faint light was coming from there, which left me wondering - was someone living there? In the sky above LazyTown, watching over its people and whatever would come their way?

I soon drifted off into the most peaceful sleep in years, and I was not awoke by the sound of loud spinning tyres or a police car racing through the streets. It was just me and the sound of animals roaming through the streets of LazyTown, and I couldn’t wish for a better sound to fall asleep to.