#we’re stopping in switzerland for a day

[winterf4iryy]

we’re going home tomorrowwwww!!!!!!!

[canthelpit0]

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

[hxneyhxrts]

Switzerland || James “Bucky” Barnes

warning: smut, unprotected sex, impact play (rough), explicit language, degradation, maybe dacryphilia

“Give me a fucking break, Y/N,” Bucky groaned.

Two hours.

They had been bickering for two hours.

It had started with a mission. A quick rendezvous for some data Sam had requested from a sister agency overseas. Y/N had figured it might be nice to get out and travel a bit.

Wrong.

“Give you a break? James, we are in Sweden! Sweden. The rendezvous was supposed to be in Switzerland. I mean, you have to understand why this is frustrating!”

“I messed up! Would you relax?”

Bucky slid the keycard into their hotel door, shouldering his way in. It was a last minute booking, since they hadn’t meant to be here in the first place. Thanks to James.

Bucky cursed under his breath, and Y/N peeked over his shoulder to see what was wrong.

Sick.

“Oh great. You booked a room with one bed. Awesome,” Y/N snarked. She shook her head in disappointment. “You know, I should’ve probably taken over booking and planning when you landed us in the wrong fucking country, but it seems I haven’t learned my lesson yet.”

“Would you just fucking drop it? I said I was sorry!” Bucky bit out.

Y/N scowled. “Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that we’re in fucking Sweden, James. Someone has to explain this to-”

“Stop calling me that.”

She paused mid-sentence. “Calling you what?”

Bucky heaved a sigh. “James. You can be mad at me, but please just… stop calling me that. You never call me that.”

All the fight left her then. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of quiet to calm down.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Don’t wait up.”

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

The hot water did little to relax Y/N’s nerves, but she was clean. And if she took an extra 15 minutes to just stand there and enjoy the quiet, well that was her business.

But she couldn’t stay there forever. She knew a fight sat unfinished on the other side of the door, and the longer she stayed in the quiet of the bathroom, the longer she pushed off a resolution.

So with a sigh, she pushed back the shower curtain and fumbled for her towel. She spent much longer than necessary drying off, avoiding the inevitable while she could.

Once her skin was thoroughly dry (and beginning to pink in the spots she had rubbed too much), she gave in to the gnawing in her stomach. She reached for her pajamas with a sigh, mentally going over how to diffuse the fight that waited for her.

Her hand met the empty countertop.

Y/N’s brows furrowed. She spun around, surveying the bathroom for her clothes.

Nothing.

Because this was supposed to be a day trip.

You don’t pack pajamas for a day trip.

Y/N wanted to scream. Because of course this would be happening. Her shit show day had reached its dirty grimy claws into the evening.

Her annoyance reared its head again, and she had to keep herself from storming out and shouting at Bucky once more for getting them in this predicament.

But she bit her tongue, and cracked the door just a sliver. “Bucky?”

Shuffling. Then, “Yeah?”

Her cheeks were already burning from embarrassment. “I didn’t bring pajamas. Do you mind calling down to the front desk and asking for a robe or something?”

“Y/N, it’s like nine o’clock. The receptionist has probably gone home by now.”

Her irritation flared. “Can you just check? The only other option is putting on the clothes I wore today and they’re filthy.”

She heard an annoyed curse and more movement. Then a metal hand was sliding in the gap in the door, a t-shirt hanging from its fingers.

“Here,” came a grunt through the wood.

A flush crept down Y/N’s chest. “I don’t-”

“Would you stop fucking arguing for once, and just take it?”

“I still don’t have any pants!”

“It’s a long shirt, you won’t need them! Just put it on and fucking relax.”

The sheer command in his voice would have been enough to make her listen, nevermind the fact that Bucky had always had her wrapped around his finger. So with a huff that sounded more pathetic than grumpy, she snatched the shirt and slammed the door.

The shirt was quintessential Bucky. Plain, dark, simple. It hung just past her hips, a bit too short to be considered decent.

“I knew it,” she growled. But there was no use in pouting about it now. It was clean and comfortable (and warm).

It took every ounce of security (and maybe insanity) to open the door and walk out. She refused to look at Bucky, but she could still feel his eyes like a physical weight on her body. After several rather awkward seconds, he cleared his throat.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. So either you make yourself cozy down there, or we’re splitting the bed.”

Not even two minutes in, and he had found her last nerve. Found it, poked at it, sank his teeth into it, shredded it. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well I guess that settles it.”

What a shit day.

With a pout, Y/N pushed her way under the duvet, taking notice of how small the bed seemed to feel with Bucky in it. Her thigh brushed his and she bit back her gasp.

“Are you wearing pants?”

“No. Neither are you. Leave me alone and go to sleep.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and curled under the blankets. She had almost dozed off when a sharp tug on the covers disrupted her. “Do you mind?”

“You’re hogging all the blankets. Do you mind?” Bucky hissed.

And just to piss him off more, Y/N yanked the blankets enough to leave him exposed to the chill in the air.

“Are you serious? What are you, 5?”

“Do we really want to start talking about ages, you old fuck?”

Bucky groaned and reached for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. “Fine. Whatever. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The peace in the room settled and remained for maybe five minutes.

Until…

“Would you stop pouting?”

Y/N threw her hands up incredulously. “I’m not pouting!”

“Yes. You are.”

“How would you even know?”

“I can just tell. It’s irritating me. Now stop,” Bucky spat.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N’s not sure how it happened, or what set it off exactly. But Bucky had gripped the back of her neck and pulled her face to hover above his too quickly for her to prepare, her hands falling to his chest to balance herself. Bucky’s fingers dug into the nape of her neck with a bruising grip, and he soon brought his metal ones up to grab her jaw.

“Enough,” he growled.

With her head caged between his hands, she had no room to move, let alone reply. It wasn’t necessary though, as Bucky pushed through, his tone turning razor sharp.

“Enough with the pouting. Enough with the disobedience. Enough with the smart ass comments. Enough with calling me ‘James’. Enough. I’ve had enough. You can’t seem to help yourself from being a pain in my ass. I’m over it. Everyone else wants to kiss your ass, I’m not gonna do that. I want-”

He stopped. His teeth bared and gritted.

So it came as a shock when his lips crashed into hers with a force so staggering, she would’ve fell back if not for his hands holding her in place.

The kiss was urgent. Desperate. It was teeth, and tongues, and lips, and spit, and lust. Y/N struggled to catch her breath, but feared breaking away to break whatever spell had fallen over them.

“Such a fucking waste,” Bucky groaned. “A mouth like this, and all you do is pout and whine with it.”

The hand on the back of her neck slid up to her hair, and with a yank he had her throat bared where he sat up to meet it. His teeth nipped at her neck, roughly biting at the skin there. Y/N threw her head back in ecstasy, biting back a moan that threatened to slip.

A warm trickle slid down her neck.

Y/N pushed Bucky off by the shoulders, her hands flying to her neck. “Am I-” she stuttered. “Am I bleeding?”

“That should be the least of your worries right now.”

And before she could protest, he had pinned her on her back. “I am going to fuck you hard enough that you feel me every time you sit down. Every time you mouth off. Every time you touch yourself,” he continued, kissing a trail down her stomach. “I am going to ruin you.”

That didn’t sound so terrible.

The moment Bucky put his mouth on her, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. This had to be some sort of punishment. To be laid out in front of someone she despised and fall apart like this. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, small gasps managing to escape.

“You can do better than that,” Bucky urged.

And yes. She could. When his tongue did a particularly sinful circle around her clit, the whine that left her cut through the air loud enough that she briefly thought of whoever might be in the room next door. But when Bucky repeated the action, drawing another series of whimpers from her, she found she didn’t care.

A groan sounded, and the vibrations from it rang through her core. “Just like that,” Bucky gasped.

His mouth returned with a vengeance, licking and sucking at her like a man starved. She couldn’t have held her mewls and whimpers to herself if she tried, embarrassment be damned.

“Please,” she gasped. “I’m gonna-”

“No.”

Bucky pulled back at once, and her core throbbed at the loss of contact. Y/N sat up on her elbows, poised to protest.

“There’s that pout again.”

And yes, she was pouting.

But who could blame her?

“If I see that pout again, I’m knocking it off your fucking face.”

She immediately sobered and set her mouth straight.

Bucky smiled. “Good girl.”

Fuck.

Y/N keened high in her throat, the sound leaving without her intending it to. A flush crept up her cheeks.

Bucky’s grin looked like it might split his cheeks.

“Oh?” he teased. “Did you like that?”

His hands snaked up her waist, pushing his shirt higher on her torso, inches of skin creeping out bit by bit. His fingers, both flesh and metal burned her skin as they trailed up her sides. She gasped as his hands finally cupped her breasts.

“You like being told how good you are? You like being my good girl?”

Y/N whined, her hands moving to grab at Bucky’s wrists. Something to anchor her, she supposed.

Or just an excuse to touch him.

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look like this? Spread out and whining for me? Wearing my shirt?”

It was becoming too much: the way his hands grabbed at her skin, the way his breath fanned over her face, the words he was speaking.

“Please,” she begged.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck, please,” she tried. “I need you.”

Bucky smirked. “Where? Where do you need me?”

This was torture. She had seen the worst of humanity. She had fought the worst of humanity. But this was pure, unadulterated punishment.

And she loved it.

“Please,” she rasped.

Bucky chuckled, a sound that raked down her nerves. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He plunged two metal fingers deep in her core, the cold biting into the lining of her walls. It stung, but it was wonderful.

“God,” Y/N gasped, a newfound sense of euphoria washing over her.

“You feel so soft,” Bucky rasped, kissing the space between her breasts with a tenderness that was unlike him.

It was too much. The cool steel of his fingers stung and her whimpering was fueled by the way they curled inside her.

“I knew you’d like this,” Bucky rasped. His hand pushed harder, deeper, until he was stroking just out of reach of where she really wanted him. “I always thought you’d be responsive, but this…” Another kiss. “This is better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Bucky,” Y/N moaned.

He paused. His lips hovered just above her nipple and his fingers stilled inside her. “Fuck, say it again.”

And so she did.

“Bucky.”

“Fuck, good girl,” he groaned, plunging back in with a renewed vigor. “You’re getting me all wet, baby. Look how pretty you look taking my fingers. Already whining, and I’ve barely touched you.” He dove in for her mouth this time, lips borderline bruising. He spoke against her mouth in a tone that sent heat rushing through her. “I can’t wait to see what you do with my cock in you.”

“I’m gonna-”

“No you’re not,” he growled, pulling his fingers away. Y/N groaned, but was cut short by a hand at her throat.

“Enough. Whining. I won’t tell you again,” Bucky hissed.

He tightened his grip around her throat, and her vision immediately blurred. Bucky smirked. “Good.”

Then he was inspecting his fingers, watching the way her essence dripped down the metal of his hand. Another groan.

“Open,” he commanded. Y/N’s lips parted, her tongue darting out eagerly. Bucky slid two metal fingers into her waiting mouth, pushing them back far enough to brush the back of her throat. Her eyes watered as she gagged, but she kept her mouth open all the same.

“So pretty.”

It was intoxicating, the taste of herself on the tang of metal, and she greedily lapped at his digits while he thrusted them past her lips. She had just started to lose herself when he pulled his fingers away.

His now spit-slick metal hand dug into the flesh on her ass when he had managed to (easily) manhandle her onto her front, leaving her gasping into the pillow at the sting. Her scorching flesh burned hotter against the cool brush of vibranium. Y/N’s entire body was on fire, made worse by the intensity and heat of Bucky’s gaze sliding over her skin. She was still lost in that feeling when she jumped against the sheets with a whimper, Bucky’s hand soothing over the now sore spot he had left after striking the flesh underneath.

“That one was for snapping at me all day,” he taunted, a smirk evident in his voice as he raised his hand again. Y/N braced herself for the strike, but still cried out when it landed. “And that, is for calling me ‘James’,” he growled out.

She was panting, breath ragged and sharp in her lungs. “You-” she gasped out as his fingers drew lazy circles over the marks he had left on her ass. “You can’t-”

“I can,” he hissed, wrenching her head back by her hair. “And you’re going to take everything I give you.”

Any sane person would’ve refused. Kicked him off of them with a snide comment and gone to bed, maybe even pretending this never happened to salvage any scrap of dignity left after everything that had happened.

“Got it?” Bucky growled with another tug to her hair.

“Yes, sir,” she groaned back.

The older man sighed contentedly, releasing his grip on her hair and dragging both hands down her spine slowly. “I think you’ve had enough spanking for now.”

A small surge of something close to panic roared through her, panic at losing this feeling, and the sting she could still feel on her ass.

“No!” Y/N gasped out before she could stop herself, too far gone to feel the bite of embarrassment at her words. Bucky’s hands stilled on her hips, and his fingers flexed against her skin.

“No?”

“Please,” she nearly whispered. “Please keep going.”

Silence hung, low and heavy around them for several moments. Had it not been for the weight of his hands still on her, Y/N would’ve thought he left.

Then, a groan, low and guttural, like the sound was being punched out of him. Bucky’s hand slid around the front of her neck, the heat of his flesh seeping into her throat. His grip was tight enough to pull her head up, but just barely. Suddenly, his mouth was right next to her ear, tone low and threatening, much like one he used when speaking to their targets.

“This is your last chance to tell me to cool off before I ruin you,” he bit out.

It was as good of a warning as she was gonna get, Y/N knew from their time together on missions, seeing the “Winter Soldier” firsthand. A sick thrill ran through her blood.

“Please,” she insisted.

A resounding ‘smack’ rang through the air as Bucky brought down his other hand against her ass, metal impacting soft skin. Y/N arched back against him, simultaneously running from and chasing the feeling.

More smacks followed, each one worse than the last. Her resolve was crumbling beneath her with each blow. Sensing her drop, Bucky smoothed both hands over her abused cheeks with a smirk.

“What happened to begging? Hm?” he taunted, digging his fingers into her already bruising skin just to see her hiss and try to pull away.

“Please,” she slurred against the pillow.

Bucky laughed, a mean and cruel sound. “Is that all you know how to say now? Have I already fucked you that stupid? I’ve barely touched you sweet girl.”

Y/N’s head was reeling, an emotional whiplash pounding at her temples as he mocked her and soothed the bite all in one breath.

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you,” she whimpered out, writhing as his hands pressed her further into the mattress.

Bucky muttered a sharp ‘fuck’ under his breath, before recomposing himself. She could hear the shuffle of him ridding himself of his pants, and she held her breath when she felt the rigid line of him press against her already sore ass.

Y/N keened high in her throat and pressed her hips back into his harder. Bucky pulled back just barely, teasing her.

“You sure about this?”

And maybe it was the gentle note of sincerity staining his voice that made her head swim, but Y/N found her breath catching once again.

“Please,” she insisted again.

And then Bucky was pressing into her slowly, inch by torturous inch, until he was seated all the way to the hilt with a strangled moan. Words failed Y/N as she felt the head of his cock pressing into the deepest and most intimate part of her, already leaving her aching in his wake.

Bucky dug his fingers into her flesh, pulling her back against him to sink into her even further. It was overwhelming, the way he filled every space within her, leaving her no room to even breathe. He was unlike any other partner she had ever had, and Y/N had the sick feeling she may never be satisfied with anyone else. She wrapped her fingers around the smooth metal of Bucky’s wrist, dragging his hand up to settle around her throat once more. The older man’s grip stayed loose where it rested against the skin of her neck as he let out a shallow breath.

“Don’t,” he panted. “Don’t do that. I don’t think I can be gentle with you if we start that.”

It was sick, so sick, the thrill that thrummed through her veins at the thought of Bucky, the Winter Soldier, stringing her out and using her body in that brutal way that only he could.

It was that same thrill (and slight mania) that sent her over the edge of insanity (and stupidity).

“Is that so?,” she gritted out with as much teasing in her voice as she could. She felt him tense behind her, deadly quiet and still as he waited for her to continue. “Or are you just worried you won’t have enough bite to match your bark?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Bucky’s fingers tightened around her throat to the point of it being painful, her breathing slowing to almost a stand still. His hot breath ran across her ears as he leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this.”

The pace he set was immediately brutal, leaving no time for her to adjust to the sheer size and force of him. The sharp curve of hip bones dug into her ass almost painfully with every thrust as he filled her to the hilt. Words failed her completely, nothing but wanton moans stuttering out between her ragged breathing. Normally, she’d have the sense to be embarrassed about her volume altogether, but this was not the same run-of-the-mill hookups she was used to. This was untamed and raw and torturous.

Another moan slipped between her rough-bitten lips, and then Bucky was slipping his grip up to her chin and cheeks to grab her face hard and turn her head painfully to meet his wild eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pushing her face away again before dropping his hand against the flesh of her bottom once again, leaving a sting in its wake.

His manhandling only made that pit in her stomach worse, and Y/N clenched her jaw to stifle the whimpers free flowing from her mouth. It only seemed to spur the soldier behind her even more.

His cock was dragging against her walls sinfully, and she wondered if she had ever felt this full before. Or if she’d ever feel this full again.

“You want everyone in this goddamn hotel to hear you?” Bucky ground out when yet another pathetic sound escaped her. He pulled his hips back just enough to slip out of her before yanking her up by the arm to roll her over onto her back. The intimacy of facing him as he dismantled her piece by piece was overwhelming, and Y/N nearly cowered away from the heat of his stare as it roved over exposed form, but Bucky was quickly slipping his cock back into her and she was keening once again.

Bucky’s hand reared back quickly, and Y/N braced herself for the slap to fall against her ass, but gasped when the strike landed across her cheek. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes at the burn, but the moan that tore from her throat betrayed her arousal at the impact.

The older man towering over her laughed, a full and mocking sound that made her want to simultaneously sink back and chase the cadence of it. His tone was nothing short of taunting when he sneered at her. “You’re getting off on this.”

Her cheeks burned again, this time from shame instead of smacking, and she pulled into herself just barely. It was humiliating to be this vulnerable in front of him, but the thrill of him seeing every dirty part of her and fueling all of it gave her a sick sort of satisfaction.

“You like when I get rough with you, pretty girl? You like it when I treat you like the whore you are?” he crooned, a gentle hand smoothing down her cheek as his thrusts picked up even more. That same hand gripped her cheeks hard enough to make her lips pucker, a smile pulling up at his lips as her pupils blew out. “My little whore. All mine.”

Mine.

Y/N whined, that knot tightening even further. “Please,” she gasped out for what felt like the hundredth time.

Bucky smirked. “Please, what? What is it, baby?”

Any other day, his teasing would’ve earned him a lashing from her, but she only found it more and more enticing now. “I need to cum,” she panted, on the verge of tears. “Please let me cum.”

She could see the effect her begging had on him, his eyes darkening considerably. “I don’t know-”

A choked sob broke from her chest, a single tear rolling down her cheek hotly. It was all too much, and she had the feeling she’d combust if he didn’t grant her relief. “Please,” she begged once again, more desperate now.

“Fuck,” Bucky gritted out between clenched teeth, eyes zeroing in on the path of the tear staining her cheek. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

She could have wept as the wave of euphoria swept over her, pulling her under fast and hard and wracking through her body with an intensity she had never felt before. She clenched around Bucky’s shaft like a vice, and she felt him twitch before he was spilling into her with mutters of “all mine”. His thrusting continued as she rode out her high and even long after it had passed, making her whine at the sensitivity. He only pulled out when she weakly shoved at his shoulder, too overstimulated to take much more.

They were both panting as they stared at each other, and Y/N said a silent thank you to whoever could hear her that Bucky looked just as wrecked as she felt. He pulled away from her quicker than she would have liked and retreated to the bathroom. She heard the faucet turn and on and off before he reemerged with a wet rag. Her face flushed as he nudged her knees open and made to wipe at his seed dripping out of her before she stopped him with a hand to the wrist.

He leveled her with a look that made her toes curl, that same bit of dominance she had seen firsthand creeping into the expression. “I was just inside you, and now you’re trying to keep me from cleaning you up?” Y/N swallowed, still too embarrassed to let him take care of her like this. Bucky scoffed, and his voice turned stern. “Move your hand. Now.”

And even though they were done with whatever had just happened between them, Y/N found herself obeying the order. Her partner took care to clean her up gently before tossing the rag aside in the small pile of dirty linens they had accumulated. He slid into bed next to her, lifting the sheets slightly before pulling her into him with a strong, muscle chorded arm. Silence hung around them for a moment.

“Should we talk about this?” she whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would shatter the calm.

“No,” Bucky replied simply, sinking a stone in her heart before he continued. “You need to rest right now. Talking can wait until you’ve slept.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but Y/N didn’t want to leave things unchecked just because she needed rest (even if sleep was tugging at her eyelids heavily). “Are you sure? Maybe we should-”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, you’re going to sleep,” he insisted, pulling her in tighter and tempting her with his warmth.

She gave in with a playful huff, burrowing into his chest with a private smile. It felt natural, to be with him like this.

But Bucky Barnes always has to ruin her good mood.

“Who knew bossing you around was all it took to get you to shut up.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a laugh crept up her throat. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N felt the smile he buried in her hair as he pecked the crown of her head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

note: i’m not aiming for accuracy, im aiming for a good time

[mickeyswhore]

Billy's Plaything

A/N: Part 2? Maybe?

Summary: Billy is your stepbrother, he makes you embarrassed. What happens when you tease him instead?

Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: inappropriate step-sibling relationship, creepy behaviour, light smut.

GIF by @coppoladelrey

You hated Billy Loomis, despised him. You often dreamed about him being dead, but that was only half of the time, the other half you wanted him in your bed, you dreamed about him fucking you in the best way possible, or when both of those emotions collided and you thought about fucking Billy Loomis after he came to your bedroom to yell at you.

After his mother left, his father found a nice woman to settle down with. The only problem? That was your mother, and the two of you met and it was clear as day that you hated him and he hated you but both of your parents were too in love to notice the animosity, ever since your father died when you were 5, your mother was never in a relationship and she was so happy, so you decided to just take it for her happiness.

His father was a nice person, he treated your mother very well and made sure to get things you liked and also paid for a lot of classes just to accommodate for uprooting your life and moving to his house. But Billy? He infuriated you, he made your life hell but it was such small things that it didn't make sense to talk to your parents.

“WHAT THE FUCK, BILLY?” He did it again, he stole so many of your panties and he always had the same excuse.

“It probably got mixed up with my boxers, you need to chill.” His voice was so calm but his smirk made you furious, so you slapped him. Your breathing was hard and you felt yourself getting wet because of Billy and you hated yourself for it. “I’m gonna give you a pass because you’re probably on your period or something…” You were about to slap him again but he stopped your hand by holding your arm, fuck he was strong you thought. “You only get one of those, baby.” He was looking at your lips, fuck you wanted to kiss him.

“Let go of me.” Billy laughed, he knew as much as you that your words had no weight behind them.

“You can just remove your arm.” You snapped out of your trance and removed your arm from his grip.

“You’re a fucking psycho, Billy.” You were so annoyed at him, his eyes darkened and he got even closer to you.

“But what does that say about you?” He whispered in your ear, shivers running down your spine but you frowned. “If I am a psycho like you say, why do you want to fuck me?” You were stuttering and Billy laughed at your sudden shyness. “Do you think I don’t hear you fucking yourself calling my name, huh? Do you think that I never noticed you trying to take a peak at me changing? Baby, you’re not subtle at all…and I bet that if I put my fingers inside your tight little pussy, you’d be so fucking wet.” His smirk never left his face, you got caught and you hated that he was right.

“You’re wrong, I would never call your name when I’m cumming. You’re just delusional.” You were proud of yourself for not stuttering but Billy laugh.

“Who said that you called my name when you were cumming?” With that Billy left you in his room, you were flabbergasted by his antics and you felt like shit because despite his antics, you wanted your step brother to fuck you.

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

It kept getting worse, Billy was teasing you all the time and you were so annoyed about the fact that he had that much of an effect on you. Billy made you into his plaything and you had no say in it whatsoever, it was infuriating and the fact that he was plaguing your dreams and fantasies made all of this ten times worse.

“We’re going on a trip to Switzerland, I trust that you kids will be alright for a week?” Billy’s father announced at dinner and you saw how happy your mother was, so you decided to simply go along with it and not say anything.

“Sure, dad. Hope you guys have fun, don’t forget to call.” Billy smiled and then he looked at you, his gaze was making you feel as if you were naked, he saw right through you and you hated it.

“I’m so happy for you mom.” You kissed her cheek, even though your mother was the reason why you were living with Billy, you could never resent her. She deserved to be happy, even if you weren’t.

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

You decided to just be in your room and not see Billy, but you weren’t that lucky. He came to your room and was snooping around, you hated when he did that but decided to ignore him. Giving in and fighting was what Billy wanted, so you decided not to fall for it. Be strong, you thought to yourself.

“You’re gonna ignore me the whole week, baby?” Billy laid in bed next to you, but you decided not to react. “Come on, have you been dreaming about me?” You took a deep breath, but decided to change the dynamic between the two of you.

You straddled him and got extremely close to his face, you could tell that he was surprised and you were so proud of yourself for making him speechless.

“Every night, baby.” You whispered and started grinding on his cock and it was hard already.

“What you’re doing?” He asked with a small voice, he definitely wasn’t expecting that from you, Billy does the teasing, not you.

“What we want, right?” You kissed his neck and Billy pushed you away and left your room, you started laughing and went back to reading your book.

Billy left you alone all day, you were grateful that you weren’t an ass out of yourself in front of him and maybe the worst was behind you now, but wrong you were.

You were now ready for bed, you put on your nightgown and already moisturised your skin and you were happy. When you were in bed Billy entered your bedroom, and he got on top of you with a predatory look on his eyes and you too stunned to speak.

“I gotta say, you caught me off guard earlier but we need to fuck so we can stop playing this game, baby.” He was expecting your answer, but you were simply looking at him, you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “What do you say, baby?” You nodded your head but Billy wagged his finger in front of your face. “I need words, baby…come on.” He whispered.

“Please, fuck me Billy.” He started kissing you, there was no tenderness to it simply lust. Billy started playing with your nipples, and he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Oh, baby…you’re so wet, you’re such a freak for wanting your stepbrother to fuck you, huh?” His words making you even more turned on, you were moaning and pulling his hair, it felt so fucking good.

When you were about to cum, the phone rang. You and Billy were frozen but you were the first to move, he finally removed his fingers and you picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey, honey. Just called to let you two know that we arrived at the hotel, and I love you very much. Try not to kill each other.” Your mother laughed, you did too, awkwardly.

“I love you too, mom.” The two of you started to chat about other things, and she hangs up.

You slowly start to walk back to your bedroom, now that you’re less horny it started to dawn on you that this was a bad idea, Billy is your stepbrother for fuck’s sake. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted him, you didn't want to ruin your mother’s relationship.

“It was my mother.” You announced to Billy.

“I heard.” He got closer to you, and started to kiss your neck but you stopped him.

“We shouldn’t do this, Billy.” He was now making patterns across your arm.

“Why not?” He kept eye contact with you, making it hard to keep your resolve.

“Our parents are happy, Billy. If we do this, they might break up.” His touch was comforting, but it really wasn’t helping.

“I get what you’re saying, but they won’t find out.” You didn't seem convinced, at all. “I won’t force you into this, ever. But just so you know, I need to fuck this tight little pussy and I know that you need my cock deep inside you until I fuck you dumb and you don’t know anything but my name, baby.” He kissed your cheek and left your bedroom.

You could hear him masturbating, he sounded so hot and when he finished he yelled your name. You had a decision to make and Billy made it all up to it, he wasn’t going to pursue you, if you wanted…you were going to have to get it.

[hughes86-43]

love confessions | N.Hischier

part 2 to this blurb!

note- tbh, I’m not good with angsty writing, so this probably didn’t turn out that good. I still hope you enjoy it!

warnings- not that I know of, but plz let me know if there are some!

Truthfully, you had no idea what day it was or what time it was. Everything had been blur since you left Nico’s house in Switzerland and flew right back to New Jersey, needing to leave before everything got much worse. Although, how much worse could it get when you showed up unannounced at your one-true loves house, told him how you felt, had no clue how he felt, and then his blonde hook up came down the steps. So yeah everything was a blur, and you had no intentions at the moment to fix it.

Currently, you’re laying in your bed, covered up in blankets, wearing the same pajamas that you threw on when you got home two days ago, and your hair up in a top knot. You had no one to see, so you didn’t put much thought into your appearance, that is until you hear a knock on the front door.

Rising up from the bed, you try to think who it could be, since your friend was at work it couldn’t have been her. You adjust a robe around your frame and try to settle down the crazy pieces of your hair. You also try to make your under eyes a bit more better since you had been staring at your phone for the whole day, but you knew there was no use.

Once again, the person at the door knocks again. You look into the peephole and see the one person who you never thought you would see again. Nico. You sigh and yell through the door, “Go away! I’m not home!”

He knocks again, “Y/N! Stop being an ass and open the door! We both know your home!”

You walk over and pull the door open, fed up with him, you reply, “Who do you get to tell to stop being an ass? Clearly, you should be telling yourself that!”

He winces, he expected that he thought. “Can we not do this in the doorway? I just want to talk and explain.” You sigh, contemplating. “Please, just hear me out and then you can decide if you want me to leave, and I’ll leave.”

Deciding to forgo an actual answer, you just turn from the doorway and walk deeper into the apartment, hoping he would get the hint to come on in. He does, and he shuts the door and kicks off his shoes.

You grab a water from the fridge, not bothering to ask him if he wants one. You point to the couch for him to sit while you choose to continue standing. “Well, go ahead,” you tell him as he hasn’t talked in about two minutes.

“Okay, one, I’m sorry about how I acted when you arrived at my doorstep. I was honestly just shocked and hadn’t expected you to show up.”

“Or hadn’t expected someone to interrupt your little hookup?” You let out a dry laugh.

“Stop, we’re not at that part yet.” Nico says as he fiddles with the couch cushion.

“Oh, then what part are we at then?” You ask, standing with your hands on your hips waiting for an answer. Although you’re still in your pajamas and robe, you honestly didn’t care.

He sighs and looks back up at you, “We’re at the part where I tell you that you’ve always been the one, and I just hadn’t realized it.”

You widen your eyes at his words, letting out another dry laugh, “Oh, really? How’d you come to that conclusion? Was the blonde not good enough for you, so you had to come running to me?”

“Listen to me, will you?” Nico says, standing up from his spot on the couch. “The blonde girl was one of my friends, she’s with one of my guy friends, and she was there because she waiting on him to get back. She heard most of the conversation and came downstairs, not expecting to see you there. So honestly, I’ve never hooked up with her, and I had no girl with me when you showed up.”

You wince a bit, “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Nico stands awkwardly there, trying to gauge how the rest of this conversation will go.

You run your fingers over your cheek, and walk to the chair by the couch to sit down. Leaning back into it, you ask, “Then, why did you let me leave? Why didn’t you even say anything?”

“Honestly, I was shocked you showed up at my door. I wasn’t expecting it, and I certainly wasn’t expecting you to tell me how you liked me.” He flops back down on the couch. “I know I should’ve stopped you, and I truly did feel bad, but I still let you go. I’m sorry, and if that isn’t good enough, then I’m still sorry.”

You nod, “It’s okay, honestly I shouldn’t have ran, I was just scared that I let out how I felt about you, and you didn’t feel the same way back, so I was scared that it would end whatever friendship we had.” You look down at your hands.

Nico gets up from the couch and kneels infront of you. He reached out to lift your chin up, “Hey, I know I was stupid for how I acted in that moment. However, I’m still glad that you came and told me how you felt. I’ve been wanting to tell you since forever, but I guess I thought you would realize how much better of a guy you could get than me. Someone that doesn’t have to travel all over the place, someone that would be constantly there for you.”

You move your hand to run it through his brown locks. “Nico, I could never be with a guy that is as good as you. So what you travel so much for hockey, it’s what you love to do, and I’m not going to take that from you. I love you, a lot actually.”

“You do?.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“Ha, yes! Didn’t the whole me coming to Switzerland and spilling my feelings for you, not convey that?” You laugh out.

Nico gives you a big smile, “Yeah. Yeah, it did.” He kisses your forehead.

“I guess we could’ve said this way sooner, if we just got out of our heads about it.” Nico laughs at that. He stands back up and offers a hand to help you up. You take it, and he pulls you into a hug.

Melting into his embrace, you say, “Come on, I’m tired, I haven’t slept in two days. You looked tired as well, so let’s go to my bed.”

“Lead the way, babe. I’m all yours,” he says as you drag him into your room.

[greynatomy]

soulmates

lia wälti x reader

i just started writing and came up with this. idk how i feel about it, but it was an idea.

also… writing endings are very difficult.

———

A couple years back, in a small town in Switzerland, two best friends decided to have a stroll around their town. They come across a very familiar park that they’ve been going to as kids.

Not far from the girls, are two boys, playing a game of football. Too occupied in their game, they didn’t see the two girls, who also weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, and ran into them, literally.

The boys quickly get off the ground, dusting themselves off and offering a hand to each lady.

“We are sorry about that.” One of the boys said.

“We weren’t paying attention.” The other saying.

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“We weren’t paying attention ourselves.”

This was the start of four friends’ unbreakable bond.

Over the years, the four grew up together. If you see one of them, the other three aren’t too far behind. Each girl eventually fell in love with one of the boys, same with the boys.

They finished school, got married, moved into houses right next to each other and to no one’s surprise, the girls fell pregnant at the same time.

Two girls.

Born within a month of each other.

Two girls who would grow up being best friends. You both would become inseparable. Always attached to the hip.

You started preschool together, eventually going off to kindergarten together.

One day, when you were both ten years old, under the old maple tree in her backyard, two other friends of yours are standing close together, both her hands holding onto yours.

Your parents watch through the kitchen window, wondering what you kids were up to now. To their surprise, they watch as Lia pulled you close, like how she sees her parents do, and gave you a little kiss on the lips, pulling away, wide smiles on both your faces, your two friends clapping and cheering.

Only when the two of you ran inside the house did they understand what happened.

“We got married!” You yelled, while Lia said, “She’s my wife!” Referring to you.

The four friends looked at one another in understanding.

They created soulmates.

From then on, Lia would always refer to you as her wife. “Hi, wife.” She would often say whenever she sees you, a love struck expression on her face. You would always respond with a kiss on her cheek, caressing the other with your hand.

You both were quite young, but old enough to know what love was, as both your parents were the examples you had to know about what love was.

Unfortunately, on one summer day, your parents had informed you of your move. Having to move away to another country. Away from Lia.

Your twelve year old self immediately ran towards her house, never needing to knock, straight towards her room, where you found her on her bed. She already knew it was you without having to look up, but once she did, she saw tears staining your cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Papa said that we’re moving away. I don’t want to move away.”

All Lia could do is hug you tight and not let go.

When the time came, everyone promised that they would communicate and not lose contact of each other. It could be the first time in years that the best friends would no longer be together.

Lia gives you one last kiss and you hope it wouldn’t be the last.

You ended up in the United States, telling Lia through letters which you send through the post, Lia doing the same. But as the years go on, the letters eventually stopped when you were fourteen. You cried for a week straight, mourning what could be the ending of a beautiful friendship.

———

You were now thirty years old, who’ve accomplished so much and made a name for yourself. You became a professor at Stanford, teaching about the wonders of science, becoming quite popular to students.

Lia of course became a force in the world of football. You were never one for sports m, but you aren’t ashamed to admit that you’ve kept up with her career, cheering her on through the television.

It’s been sixteen years since your last contact with her, you don’t know whether she still remembers you or not, but she was someone you couldn’t exactly forget.

You did hear that the Arsenal women’s team would be playing a match in Los Angeles, so you asked for a few days off and made your journey all the way down.

You were lucky enough to get tickets close to the field. Watching Lia play in person for the first time was quite the experience. You cheered for her as loud as you could, cringing whenever she was tackled down.

Arsenal ended up wining 1-0 with an assist from Wälti. The team made their rounds around the stadium, thanking as much of their supporters as they can. You stayed in your seat, eyes following her as fans started filtering out, you being one of the last ones still there.

“Hello, Miss.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by security.

“Yes?”

“I was informed that I needed to escort you down to the locker room.” You didn’t really know what was happening, but you did follow him. “Just go right in there.” He points to a door.

You walk through the door to be met with the whole team of Arsenal, who quieted down once they saw you. You stand awkwardly in front of everyone as they stare at you.

“Hi, um, did you get lost?” Someone asked.

“Uh, I don’t think so? I followed some security person.��

“Hi, wife.”

You snap your head to the left so fast it could’ve given you whiplash. You turn you whole body to face her, her standing so close to you. Slowly, you lift your right hand to her cheek, caressing it with your thumb as she nuzzles into it, your lips finding its place on the other, the familiar gesture makes the midfielder starts to tear up.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“How could I forget our wedding under the maple tree?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“You know,” Lia began. “I’ve been waiting for the day I see you again.”

“How come?”

“Because I wanna make it real?”

“Make what real?”

“You being my wife.”

You and Lia were in your own bubble, completely forgetting about the rest of the team that surrounds you, who has never seen the love struck look on Lia’s face until now.

“What’s going on?” Caitlin asks, confused as the rest of the team is.

“This is my wife, and we’re gonna make sure it is not fake this time.”

At this moment, you felt like you were back in Switzerland, under the maple tree in her backyard, Lia by your side.

Two souls who lost their way, back together again.

[femoso-seben]

Humanoid monster

Previous, Next

“What was that about?” Soap asks Gaz. The two of them backed down when the reporters got nosy, they followed her all night long hounding her for answers.

“Abraham believed In a theory, it's written in Latin so either she knows Latin or Abraham told her.” Gaz grumble digging through his notebook.

“What theory?”

“There was a time were humans and monsters got along, they worshiped this female deity. She was murdered, and war broke out, Abraham was born in the last few days of her reign.” Gaz explains finding his notes he had written about back when he was in school.

“So?”

“So Abraham no longer speaks about this time, and in one of his papers, he theorizes this deity is still alive.”

“Mate—”

“That woman is highly educated, she shouldn't be, she wasn't born here she *came* here. Teaching humans is banned in all states except for Switzerland, how does she know?” Gaz asks Soap shrug, it didn't sound important to him but from the look on Gaz’s face said it all.

“Mr. Garrick,” the two sergeants froze and turned to see Priscilla standing there peeping her head in head feather raising in slight embarrassment. “Do we need to cancel flight training?”

“No!” Gaz shouts and walks closer to her. “Your mother.”

“yes?”

“Did she go to school?” asked a question with a smile.

“No… Why?”

“Well your mother knows things she shoulders like a diety—“

“Oh you mean Abraham’s fairytales? he likes to tell fairytales when we were little, you know? of a better time where we’re all equal, it helped most of us sleep.” Priscilla says fondly with a sweet smile on her lips.

Gaz sighs and Soap pats him on the shoulder, with a small reassuring look and smile, “See mate, you overthinking it.”

“Your mother where did she come from?”

“She came from South America and found most of us traveling up to North America and sailing over to Asia, then traveling to Switzerland.” Gaz nods and the two walk to the field with the little Harpies.

The press saw them, and the monster swarmed them, “What’s your view of the orphanage director?” The first reporter asks.

“She’s my mother—"

“So she cut off your wings?”

“No! She found me like this—“

“If given the opportunity would you go home?”

“This is my home!” Priscilla shouts her frustration begins to teetering on tears. Gaz spread his wings out blocking her from the cameras.

“Don’t bother the kid—“

“As a soldier in the monster military aviator wing, what’s your view of this almost dystopian utopia?” One Gargon asks her snakes hissing with delight and anticipation.

“I am weary but everything here so far looks good, and the orphanage director didn’t know we were coming or how long we are staying,” Gaz said in the most PR statement possible. Switzerland has one of the biggest armies, and it is wise not to attack its citizens and their politics. The media followed them, Priscilla couldn't stop looking over her shoulder, they were making her uncomfortable.

“What's your relationship with each other?” a reporter asks.

“I'm helping the younger harpies fly.”

The reporters mostly watched, occasionally they would speak to their camera, and it was easy to hear them.

“Most of these harpies are missing wings or mutilated. We suspect that the orphanage—”

“Shut up, pendejo!” One of the kids shouts at the reporters. “We all had these injuries before the orphanage.”

“It’s done by you monsters,” another girl snaps.

“Why do you defend this place?”

“It’s our home,” nearly everyone replies.

—-

The air of attrition on cordiality was fading, for every child was a surveillance camera all going back to Mother Maia. This was not lost on anyone, not the soldiers or the reporters.

The children slowly became guarded. Weary and secretive. It wasn’t lost on the task force that they were no longer welcomed there. The gargoyle creatures that usually only watch began to show themselves more often, the dragons were more active, and they were expanding their territory.

Both sides of the war were left with little progress made, and far more interest in the orphanages. The human side is more than the monster’s.

“Maia,” Abraham walks into the dimly lit office. She looks up, and the veil hangs up on her hat hook. Abraham nodded and sat down. “My old contacts have warned me that the monsters have decided to hack—”

“I understand” Mother Maia responded in a calm tone, “I’ll change a few things. The only thing they will get is the spending log, it’s best.” She smiles and begins to type away.

“There have been talk about monsters adopting—”

“I will not allow it,” Mother Maia looks up, “we both know the children who will be adopted will be sent into the military or worse eaten, I am no fool and neither than you.” Abraham smiles and nods before standing up, his wings doing a small stretch.

“I am glad we are on the same page,” Abraham said with a smile, Mother Maia only nodded and continued to work.

Abraham always knew humans were not equal to monsters in strength, but their intelligence is quite admirable. It’s been centuries since Abraham found a human he could view as equal, but another Maia was that human.

She was articulate and wise for someone who never had a true education. And yet with his simple guidance, she was able to keep her children.

“What about the new disease?” Abraham froze and sighed. Everyone knew at this point, even the humans.

“The Monster scientists have named it Cerebrum deterioration, or as the soldiers call it brain rot.” Abraham studied Mother Maia’s face, most humans couldn't hide their glee when disguising this topic, all except for Mother Maia.

“How pitiful, has it linked to the human resistance?” she sighs the scars across her face rippling with the slight movement of her face.

“No, the scientists said it was discovered rather than made.” Mother Maia nods and continues to write.

“Let's keep informed if a war breaks out this could affect this free state.” Mother Maia said sternly. Abraham agreed. “And when the vaccine is made, be sure to be one of the first to get it, you are a model.” Abraham laughs but nods.

“You are a strange one—”

“I am only being realistic Abraham, even though you've been a pacifist for a few hundred years, you still hold power.”

“Of course.”

[hugheswritetr]

Unforgettable

MASTERLIST

Heartbeat | Jack Hughes

Author’s note: my fav chapter so far;)

Song: Unforgettable- French Montana

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Thalia’s POV

The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and i finally found the comfortable position to tan.

I haven’t got much time to tan during this summer, always running around, spending time with family or Luke.

I try to fill my free time with them as much as possible, knowing that once the summer ends, I am returning to Switzerland for my last year of boarding school.

But back to my tanning, If you didn’t notice, I am really enjoying the time for myself.

I just wish the process was faster, because I want the tan lines right now . Oh how I love being a girl.

My mom is cooking lunch with Ellen, so the Hughes family is over. Luke finally returned from his tournament, and it couldn’t be more perfect. The only two people who can’t share my enthusiasm are Quinn and Mattheo.

They are groaning few feet from me, laying on the outdoor sofa with ice packs on their heads. Thats what underage drinking does to you, my friend.

I can faintly hear Luke and Jack shouting at eachother as they play football, the ball nearly hit me a few times, but because of how good I feel right now, I can’t imagine myself caring.

After my mini breakdown I endured yesterday, today is a perfect calming day. My nerves settled down a bit after the talk with Jack, and I feel lighter.

Sure, I still have some anxiety left but I know I have a lot of time to figure it out. Nobody has it figured out at the age I am at, and I know that by then I will be calm and collected.

I hope.

My train of thoughts is stopped when I suddenly do not feel the sun on my face. I open my eyes and see Jack standing over me. I would start cussing him out, but today is a great day, so I choose not to.

But the words he says take me by surprise.

“Scoot over” he instructs me, and I free some space for him on the towel. “What do you want, Jack?” I suspiciously ask.

“Just want to spend some time with my friend, is that a crime ?” he chuckles. I look at him, and see no sarcasm in his eyes. He settles down beside me, the skin contact making me shiver. Why is he wearing no shirt? Thank god he isn’t tho, at least I have something to look at.

I stare, no shame in that. The hard ridges of his abs on the tanned skin are making it impossible not to. “Take a picture, it will last longer”he says, noticing my stare. Okay, I feel shame now, but I do not regret it, the sight was pleasant, not going to lie. So sue a girl for looking.

I am sure I look like an apple right now, and the embarrassment surges through me. “ I wasn’t looking” I say, trying to save at least a bit of dignity I have left.

“Please, Lils, let’s stop lying to ourselves “ he laughs and I scoff at the cocky asshole. He knows what he is doing.

We once again settle into comfortable silence, just sitting beside eachother.

He is one of the few people I actually enjoy spending time with in silence, just soaking up him and his energy.

“So tell me about the girlfriend” I suddenly ask, circling back to the words he said to me at the draft, even though a long time passed since that, it’s still on my mind.

It pains me, but I know that Jack Hughes will always be here for me to admire, not to have. I just hope he finds someone who understands his soul and his body, the way he deserves to be understood.

“Avery? What about her?” he confusedly replies, waiting for me to clarify. “You told me about her at the draft” I recall.

“Oh, yeah, sorry I forgot” he apologises, but continues “She’s great, we have been together since my birthday, so I think we’re doing good” the smile on his face when he is talking about her making my heart break more and more.

“I’m happy for you Jack, you deserve all the best” when I turn to look at him, he’s already looking at me, smiling. “Thank you Lils” he softly smiles and throws his arm around me.

I’m grateful that there are no powers that allow others to read my mind, because all I can think about is wanting him to speak about me. I know it’s dumb, but the charm of Jack Hughes has still not left me. I don’t even think it will leave , ever.

I think about Avery, already feeling the distaste for her, but deep down I know it’s just jealousy. Jealousy about her having him, and not me. She may be a great girl, but I can’t help myself.

That is something I will have to get used to by having Jack in my life, I mean, how can you NOT fall for him? I don’t think that is possible. And if it is, I need a tutorial right now.

There is no possibility that anyone who hears his voice, sees his smile, and gets to know his character will not feel love for him. And once again, if you don’t, please pull me out of this misery and tell me how.

I still remember the first summer living in Michigan, the first time I met him. The second I saw those ocean eyes, I knew I was goner.

The second I felt my hands on his skin, making them tingle, I knew he would be forever imprinted on my mind.

The second his signature toothy smile made appearance on his face, I knew I would do everything possible to be cause of it.

He stole my heart, and I don’t think I will get it back. I also think i’m fine with that, part of my heart being a small price to pay for his presence in my life.

I notice Luke walking up to us, he left to check on the dinner, the teenage boy appetite making him already hungry. I like to tease him about it, but that’s another thing im jealous of, non stop eating and not gaining a pound. If I even breathed the amount he eats, I would be ten pounds heavier.

Okay, I’m lying, I eat the same amount, especially when I’m having mental breakdown about the latest show I’m obsessing over.

Luke plops down next to us “What are you talking about?” curisously asking. “My girlfriend” Luke scoffs, I look strangely at him, and he rolls his eyes. I’m definitely going to ask him questions.

Jack notices his reaction, and scoffs too “I don’t get why you don’t like her, she’s been nothing but nice to you” he says, defending her, making the ache in my chest present again.

“Yeah, sure” Luke answers him, not wanting to talk about her for minute more. Okay, now I’m definitely curious.

I shift the conversation, not wanting to feel the uncomfortable silence longer “Luke, do you want to play volleyball?” I say, actually hoping to press him for details, but I forget that Jacks needs to be centre for everything.

“ No invite for me?” he frowns. Luke and me answer at the same time “No”, “Sure, but I want Luke on my team” . The answer I give him making him gain attitude “I’m much better player than Luke”

I answer him with laugh as I leave to get the ball “Sure Jack, hope you enjoy living in delusions”. Let me tell you a secret, he is better player than Luke, but I love annoying him.

He shouts after me, but I just laugh.

I stay in the supply room a little longer, needing to cool down my blushing cheeks, but the cause of my blushing problem once again appears.

“Having trouble finding the ball?” he asks, stepping into the room with me. “Not at all” I turn around about to reach for it, but he decides to do the same, and closes the proximity between us by pressing his front into my back.

I instantly pull away, the blush I originally had, and I don’t even know how it’s possible, worsening even more.

Why am I still blushing? Seriously, my face needs to get it together. Man up, we can’t embarrass ourselves more, I internally speak to myself and my face.

Yeah, I know these are the signs of starting insanity, but we are going to ignore it for now.

Jack coughs beside me, making me pull myself from my thoughts. “Went to Wonderland?” he teasingly asks.

I dismiss him with a shake of the head and leave the room.

When I return to Luke, he suspiciously looks at me, and then at Jack trailing behind me.

,,What took you two so long?” he asks, suspicion evident in his voice.

,,Nothing, let’s play” I say, hoping to stop his thoughts from wandering too much.

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I always considered myself great at volleyball, but how embarrasingly we are losing right now to Jack is almost making me rethink that statement.

But I’m not a quitter, and Luke isn’t one either, and we know that we are going to win this.

Because if not, this is going to get embarrassing real fast. But it won’t, because I wouldn’t let Jack’s ego rise more. Someone needs to seriously humble that man, and that someone is going to be me.

That is one of the main reasons I’m sweating like a pig right now, because there is no chance he is going to win, and if he is, it’s going to be over my dead body.

I don’t know what was I thinking wanting to play volleyball with two hockey players, because their stamina is much better than mine, hell, they didn’t even break a sweat yet.

I’m aware of how unattractive I look right now, but I don’t even care, the sole goal is to win the game and then shower.

“Wishing you chose me, huh Lils?” Jack chirps from the other side in a true hockey boy nature.

“Not at all” I answer him, one thing I’m not going to admit is me being wrong. My competitivness matches Jack’s own one and I think if volleyball scouts were here, they would choose us on the spot.

My poor Luke is in the middle of our ego match, I feel bad about screaming at him about every mistake he makes, but I will not lose to Jack. Luke will get his apology later.

The only boy matching my screams is the one infront of me, screaming obscenities at the poor ball whenever something doesn’t go his way.

I think today the universe is on my side, because when I do the winning move, my ego rises a few feet.

“Ha!” I laugh at Jack sitting defeatedly on his knees, between catching my breaths.

Luke does not even stay to clap me on my back, I’m sure he is going to Ellen for her to comfort him about how we were yelling at him. He’s SUCH a mamas boy (don’t tell him I said that).

Suddenly there’s a hand stretched infront of me, Jack’s hand to be particular. I don’t take it, smirking as I stand up even though I have about two cramps in each leg, but he doesn’t know that.

I’m certainly not going to shorten my ego even by millimetre, duh.

He laughs at me, then he hughs me.

“Congrats on winning, not sure you would win without Luke, but I’m going to let it slide” he says, that asshole. He knows damn well that I carried the team.

I don’t even answer him, my heart set on the shower I’m going to take.

What I don’t know is that by the time I was collecting things in my room for the shower. He beat me to it. In my own house.

But I’m not going to be mad, he deserves at least one win today. I laugh at my thoughts. I always knew I was funny.

If someone finds out what’s up with men and their long showers, let me know. I’m pounding on the door of the bathroom, because I honestly can’t wait no more.

I don’t even get my second pound in at the door, and hes opening them.

Once again, he knows what he is doing. Because he is standing there in all of his bare-chested glory.

Suddenly, my mind is a bottomless pit and my mouth stopped functioning, because I can’t even form and speak one word.

”Cat got your tongue?” he knowingly asks, getting second ego victory that day, dork.

I spare one last look at his chest, of course I’m not going to leave without looking. When he already catched me, I don’t have to hide it.

I push past him for the second time that day. Why does this keep happening to me? Entering the bathroom, I release a sigh.

But when I notice the familiar scent of the bathroom, I know that he used my bodywash, making a smile appear on my face.

He is going to be falling asleep with my scent today. I hope he enjoys thinking about me.

I know I called him delusional today, but I’m starting to think I should have been reflecting that one on myself.

Shutting down my thoughts, I step into the shower, the warm water calming my aching muscles.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

When I step out of shower and I notice the tan I gained, I smile from joy because that was the original plan for today.

The cooling lotion on my skin feels great, and I almost fall asleep from the relaxing effect it has.

Until I smell the scent of the food from downstairs, my stomach now agressively grumbling.

I put on some sundress I fish out from my closet, not even caring what I put on, I just want to fill the void in my stomach.

I braid my drying hair, not wanting to have a side of them with my meal. Men have it so easy with their short hair.

As I sit beside my now hungover-free brother, who is finally not complaining anymore, I notice the happiness radiating from the people around the table, making me smile.

The food is great ( shotout to my mom and Ellen ). Everyone is laughing and I’m winning again, beating Jack once again in our private kicking tournament under the table.

I laugh at him and stick my tongue out, making him smile. At least he is not a sore loser, because that would be sad for him.

He takes all these losses like champ and I think I found my new hobby, winning.

Everything is perfect right now.

[formulakatya]

TWO WORLDS | MICK SCHUMACHER

“it’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart”

not my gif :)

summary: where you and mick are childhood best friends and grew up in racing together, and yet mick made it to formula one with nothing but love and admiration from everyone and you left the sport with nothing but scars

pairing: mick schumacher x ex driver!reader

notes: i’m probably going to make a part 2, loosely based off ‘astronomy’ by conan gray and that one line from ‘daylight’ by david kushner, unedited (sorry)

warnings: a little angsty but it kinda gets better, slight talks about mental health issues and struggles, slight implications of struggles with eating, slight implications of self-destructive behaviours

—

switzerland always held a special place in your heart. it was your home country after all, having grown up in geneva. and despite having moved to england for university, you still made a point to come back ever so often to visit your family and friends— and most importantly, spend time with your dogs.

and, with christmas just around the corner, it was no surprise that you were back, happy to carry out the christmas traditions you’ve always loved. which was precisely why you were in your childhood bedroom.

sitting on the edge of the bed, you took in the memories and nostalgia which never failed to wash over you every time you stepped into room as you glanced around, each object in your room giving you reminders and memories of the past. each flag and poster on your wall had a specific sentiment attached to it, as did the picture frames and polaroids.

the red ferrari flag that hung on your wall served as the most important reminder of your past woes in racing— it’s iconic prancing horse staring at you almost in mockery for your failure in achieving your dreams whilst the very same people you competed with had, or were at least on their way to achieving.

glancing to your bedside table, you let out a sigh upon seeing the picture frame, picking it up and clearing the dust away. the frame was old, so was the picture inside of it, yet, you still remember it like it all happened yesterday.

“micky!” you exclaimed, glad to see your best friend again, letting out a smile. “how are you? how was italy?”

“it was so fun! i got you a gift as well! i’ll give it to you when you come over later!” he smiled, “i got to visit maranello and the ferrari museum! it was so cool!”

“lucky…” you pouted, “i really want to race for ferrari one day! i’ll get to formula one, race for ferrari and win 10 championships! i’ll beat your dad’s record!”

“not if i do it first,” he let out a laugh, “we’ll both get to formula 1 and we’ll be teammates in ferrari!”

“and we’ll be the best duo on the grid!”

“obviously.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at the picture frame next to your bed, the memories with your ex-best friend coming back to you. the thought of all the plans you had made with each other, from travelling over the world together when you’d grow up to getting to the pinnacle of motorsport and driving next to each other.

both of you had big dreams, for yourselves and for each other, and yet you two had fallen out.

of course you still sent him congratulatory messages whenever he would have a good race and he would still occasionally text you to check up on you, but other than that, there was nothing.

you had went from best friends to almost strangers.

sometimes you find yourself reminiscing about the past and couldn’t help but wonder if he was still the person you remembered him being. and sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

you two had gone down the same path— starting your karting journey at the same track, going up to formula 4 at the same time, going to formula 3 together with the same team— and yet he had made it to formula 1 and you were left with nothing but with a mix of memories and a wound that would never stop bleeding.

of course, you had some regrets in leaving the sport, but at the end of the day, you would probably have more regrets in staying in it. it was the fact that you could do it but didn’t and the regret and guilt would haunt you forever. but, at the same time, you were glad that you had stopped.

good memories had been made; the feeling of adrenaline as you battled wheel-to-wheel, the joy being on the top step and the thrill of simply racing would be something you would miss forever.

but the bad had overrode the good.

watching what you ate to make sure you could be as light as you could be just to cut down times for each sector. the constant feeling of never being good enough and expectations for you that were always twice as high as everyone’s. the guilt that would follow you everyday if you didn’t train until you felt like collapsing.

everything you did was for love. everything you did was for victory. everything you did was for excellence. everything you did destroyed yourself inside out.

hearing a knock on the door, your reverie had been broke as you put the picture back in its original place, getting up to open the door. freezing the minute you heard the familiar voices from downstairs, you hesitated for a while before putting your hand on the door knob.

“hi, (y/n)!” the german smiled, “your mum told me to get you for dinner and then we can do some baking!”

it was as if you were kids again the way he had greeted you, and if you had to be honest, your heart ached at the strong possibly your relationship would never return to that.

“don’t tell me you forgot who i was.”

“never, mick,” you couldn’t help but smile as he brought you into a hug. “how could i?”

for that split second, it felt as if you guys were as close as before. unfortunately, your brain was quick to take over your heart as you made your way down.

you hated how your heart would still skip a beat whenever you saw him, you hated how he always made you smile and you hated how you couldn’t help but long for his company.

“hi,” you smiled, taking your seat at the table which was opposite mick’s, taking a look of the food in front of you.

“how have you been, (y/n)? it’s been so long!” corinna smiled, “how’s your engineering degree going?”

“wait, you’re doing an engineering degree?” mick asked, looking to see if anyone was as surprised. “what happened to racing? i thought you were going to elms?”

forcing a smile, you let out a small chuckle, “yeah, i’m doing an engineering degree.”

“oh…okay.”

the dinner table was filled with laughter and chatter, the awkwardness long forgotten as everyone cracked jokes and caught up with one another. your spirits lifted as you talked to gina as you caught each other and talked about horse riding.

that was at least until your dad had asked mick about formula 1.

“…yeah, formula 1’s been going great, i can’t wait to join ferrari next season…”

as much as you tried to sit through the entire conversation as everyone joined in, you simply couldn’t take it anymore as everything came back to you along with all sorts of emotions. averting your eyes to the garden, you were quick to excuse yourself from the dinner table.

sitting outside, away from the sight of anyone, the emotions came like a tidal wave and it wasn’t too long until you found yourself crying silently— out of misery and sadness for your failed dreams with a side of jealousy and anger at yourself.

“(y/n)?”

“go away, mick,” you let out a sigh, recognising his voice.

“what’s wrong? you can tell me,” he comforted, taking a seat next to you.

“you wouldn’t get it.”

“just tell me.”

putting his arm around you, mick pulled you closer to him. “please, just tell me, i hate seeing you like this. i know we haven’t talked in a while, and we’re probably not as close as we were but please tell me.”

letting out a sigh, you wiped your tears. “it’s just…it’s just unfair. god, it’s so stupid.”

it didn’t take a while for mick to pick up on what you were upset about as he quickly put the pieces together, “i’m sorry i didn’t notice what was going on back then. i failed to look out for you. i should’ve realised and been there for you.”

“it wasn’t your responsibility anyways, mick.”

“when you love someone, it’s your responsibility.”

[wordsbyrian]

Meet the Culers - Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary/Request: @dying-to-live-living-to-die "Ona x USWNT!Reader where R goes with her back to Spain for the holidays & ends up getting interrogated by Ona's national teammates"

A/N: yea, I don't actually have anything to say, enjoy the fic.

Every year since you joined the USWNT, and they found out that you prefer not to interact with your family during the holidays, you’ve had to deal with them fighting over who you were going to spend Christmas with.

This year is different though because you had sent them a mass text saying that you were going to Spain with your girlfriend this year.

You hadn’t given them any more information than that so now you’re fielding calls and texts from them trying to force you to tell them who your girlfriend is.

Your team moms, Alex and Kelley, had taken this the worst because you usually told them everything. You not telling them you’ve had a girlfriend for a year and a half already was pretty shocking to them.

Which explains the phone call you're currently having in the middle of Manchester airport.

“Can the two of you stop yelling at me for a second,” you say, waiting until they’re silent to continue, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you guys, I knew you would react like this.”

“How do you want us to react, Y/N/N,” Alex asks, “Two days ago, you didn’t have a girlfriend and today, you’re darting off to Spain with her.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a girlfriend, you just didn’t know.”

“You’re proving my point for me, Y/N,” she says.

“Listen, Y/N,” Kelley cuts in, “You have to understand where we're coming from.”

“No I don't,” you cut her off, “Once again, you guys are treating me like a child and in case you've forgotten, I'm not.”

“Y/N.”

“No, seriously, who do you guys think I went to Switzerland with?”

There’s a moment of silence as the older players take in what you’ve said.

“You went to Switzerland with her,” Alex asks, “Like last month when you went to Switzerland, you were with her?”

“I mean yea. We went to see her brother.”

“You’ve met her brother,” Kelley asks, trying to wrap her head around it, “Things are pretty serious, huh?”

“I’d say we’re serious, she is taking me to meet the rest of her family.”

You hear both of them sigh, seemingly having a silent conversation on the other end of the line.

“Okay, Y/N/N, here’s the deal,” Alex says, “You can go to Spain but you text us when you land and you text us at least once a day.”

“I was going to Spain whether you said I could or not but I agree to your terms,” you tell them, “The plane’s started boarding, text you later, bye.”

You hang up before they have a chance to respond, grabbing your stuff and moving to stand in line with your girlfriend.

“So we’re pretty serious,” she asks, smirking.

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your eyes, “I’d say we’re pretty serious, Ona.”

A few days later, after having spent a couple of days with her family and exploring both her hometown and Barcelona, you and Ona find yourselves seated in Estadi Johan Cruyff watching some of her national teammates play.

The way that they move together is one of the best things you’ve ever seen. And if we’re being honest, it makes you jealous that your team, both national and club, are nowhere near that efficient.

Barcelona dominates the entire match and by the final whistle blows, the score is a stunning 7-0 for La Blaugrana.

This is when your day took a significant turn because instead of watching the game and heading home like had originally been the plan. You’re sitting in a restaurant with a significant portion of the Spanish national team because Ona had been spotted by her teammates.

So there you are sitting in the restaurant with Ona’s hand on your thigh doing your best to follow the conversation in a language you are barely beginning to understand.

For the most part, you aren’t struggling too much. There’s a lot of talk about the game and everyone’s holiday plans and even a moment where you hear Irene Paredes ask Ona why you’re wearing shorts, to which she just gets a head shake in response.

It isn’t until dessert that the interrogation you’re expecting starts, except the first question isn’t one you’re expecting.

“What’s your zodiac sign,” Patri asks, kicking it off.

“Uh, Cancer,” you say, watching confused as she nods seriously.

“What do you want to do when you retire from football,” Mapi asks.

“Probably do some writing for TV or film, it’s what I was studying in college.”

This seems to be a good enough answer for the older woman because she nods as though you just told her the secret of the universe.

“How did your family react when you told them that you have a girlfriend,” Panos questions.

“Most of my family is dead and the ones that aren’t are better left unmentioned,” you say seriously.

“What about your American teammates,” Sandra doubles down, “Morgan and O’Hara rarely let you out of their sight.”

“I think they took it pretty well.”

Ona glares at you, “You spent 30 minutes getting yelled at over the phones before our flight and before that you turned your phone off for days after telling them.”

“That was because I didn’t feel like answering 1000 questions,” you say casually, “Besides any reaction that didn’t involve them dragging me back to the States is a good one.”

“Why would they have taken you back to America? Do they not like Ona,” Alexia asks glaring at you.

“It's not that. They just think it’s normal to treat me like I’m 14, not 24.”

Somewhere to your left you hear something mumbled and while you don't understand every word, you do recognize the Catalan words for 14 and years, so you respond anyway.

“Yes, I am aware that I look like an overgrown 14-year-old.”

That gets a couple of laughs from the gathered Spaniards and when you see Pina’s cheeks heat slightly, you immediately know who made the comment.

The interrogation slows down after that and it’s not long before your group finds itself walking the streets of Barcelona.

You and Ona are near the middle of the group, your arm around her shoulders, speaking to each other softly.

When she mentions that she’s a little cold, you do your best to avoid the eyes on you as you remove your hoodie and hand it to her, revealing the tank top you have on underneath.

This is apparently the final straw for Paredes who grabs you by the shoulders from behind, spins you around, and starts speaking to you in rapid Spanish.

After standing there staring at her blankly for a few moments, you decide to tell her what she should already know.

“I have no clue what you’re trying to tell me.”

She stops for a moment before she speaks again, this time in English.

“It’s 15 degrees (Celsius) out and you are wearing shorts and a tank top, why?”

“Well,” you begin, “I’m pretty sure it’s like -10 Celsius in my hometown right now and they probably have at least a meter of snow on the ground so this is actually pretty nice for me.”

While Paredes stomps off muttering something about crazy Americans, you’re dragged off by Mapi and out of the corner of your eye you can see Alexia doing the same with your girlfriend.

“Escuchame loca,” she says, “I’m starting to like you but if you hurt Ona. I’ll kill you.”

This, unsurprisingly, is not the first time you’ve been threatened over a girl so you take this in stride. It’s not even the first time you’ve been threatened over Ona this week, She has a very large Uncle who is definitely not as nice as she made him out to be.

All of that being said, you have no issue pretending to be scared as the blonde centerback promises violence against you should you hurt her friend.

Eventually, the night draws to a close; you and Ona are in the car headed back to her parent's house.

Barely bothering to take your eyes off the sights outside the window, you speak.

“Your teammates aren’t that bad,” you tell her.

“Really,” Ona sounds shocked, “Mapi wasn’t too mean to you at the end?”

“No worse than your uncle.”

“Tio Josep isn’t scary, amor,” she says, “Besides I think your teammates will be worse.”

You pause for a moment, strongly considering the possibility.

“I think I’m gonna just keep you away from them,” you tell her seriously, “Especially Alex and Kelley.”

“Good luck with that.”

[illicitlimerence-writes]

snow | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 870 words (thank god) request: nope prompt: snowball fights ⎯ “i’m going to get you back for that, [name]!” from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: language, snowball war, both mick and reader have golden retriever energy in this. not proofread a/n: this is really short but i hope you like it anyway! REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

christmas in switzerland was something she’d never experienced before. everywhere she looked was covered in white show, the houses and cabins seemed like ones she saw only in movies, everything was too perfect.

the first day of snow was one of the best days of her life. it didn’t matter that she woke up sick the next day, she wouldn’t change the previous day for anything.

it started with mick waking her up sweetly, leaving a trail of soft kisses all over her face, her jaw, and her neck.

“wake up,” he said, feeling her breathing pattern change. “i know you’re awake, open your eyes,” he continued, nuzzling his face in her neck.

“no,” she grunted, wrapping her arms around his neck still with her eyes closed, she curled her fingers in his hair. “why are you waking me up at this ungodly hour?” she asked, peeking one eye open and seeing everything bright.

“it’s like 9am,” mick laughed, grabbing her waist and turning them over so she was on top of him.

“exactly,” she said.

“have you looked outside?” he asked.

“no, i’m cold,” she hid her face in his chest, her hand throwing the covers over her head.

“come on, look out the window,” he chuckled, his fingers playing with her hair.

she moved, placing her chin in his chest and looking up at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“why?”

“just do it,” he laughed.

she did, she turned her head to the side and saw the sky. 

“it’s morning, yeah, i see that,”

“you don’t see it?” he asked.

“see what?”

“come on,” he said, moving her to the side so he could stand up, he grabbed her hands and pulled.

“nooo,” she groaned dramatically, but let him drag her to the edge of the bed, “why are you so keen on getting me to watch out your window, i-” she said as they walked to the window, she expected to see his backyard looking like it did yesterday. but instead it was covered in white, fresh snow.

“it snowed last night.” he smiled.

“aaah!” she yelled, grabbing his hand and walking down the stairs, catching the attention of his dog. “angie, come on, we’re playing in the snow!”

“wait, hold on, wait, babe!” he called to her, only stopping her when he wrapped both arms around her to hold her back, “you can’t go out like that. you’ll get sick.”

“oh.” she said, “right, yeah,” mick let her down, going to get at least a jacket and boots for her, since she was currently without shoes or socks on. when he returned she was nowhere to be found, and the backdoor was open. 

angie’s loud, excited barking and her joyful laugh was all the indication he needed.

“baby, you’ll get sick!” mick said, already wearing his own snow jacket and shoes, he walked to her, handing her the jacket.

“i’m sorry, but look!” she pouted, “it’s snow! we’ll get to have a white christmas after all. and look at angie, look at her little footprints,” 

“yes, it’s all really pretty. now please put on these socks and shoes,” he crouched down, his back towards her. “jump,” he said. a few seconds later she was hanging from his back, he could feel her shivering against him. he walked her to a bench he had outside in the patio, he wiped away the snow and sat her there to help her put on her socks and shoes. “come on, cinderella,” he joked, but she was too enthralled watching the trees, the small fountain, everything covered in snow. he put on her shoes, and just when he was tying her shoe he felt something so incredibly cold hit his back. 

he looked up, a shocked look on his face as she stared at him with happiness written all over her face.

“oh, you don’t know what you’ve just started,” he warned her, she continued giggling. “snowball war? i’m going to get you back for that.” he declared.

“i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” she smiled.

“i’ll give you a head start,” he announced, “you have ten seconds to run away and make as many snow balls as you can, after that, it’s game on.”

she didn’t waste a single moment, she pushed herself up, letting out a mix of shriek and laugh as he tried to hold her back, but she freed herself and pushed him back. she found refuge on the side of the house, angie ran to her as she was making as many snow balls as she could. after mick finished counting she held her breath counting in her head, once she reached fifteen and didn’t hear him, she dared one peek to where he was. but he wasn’t there, and she couldn’t see him anywhere else.

angie’s bark alerted her, she turned just in time to see a snowball flying her way, hitting her shoulder.

“it’s war!” she laughed, throwing more of the white snow at him.

they felt like two kids at that moment, unaware of everything else going on in the world, the only thing that mattered was them and their fun. they’d worry about hot chocolate and medicine later.

[corpsebasil]

hiiii ? miss me?

Modern Nikolai parte tres

For some reason you aren’t very surprised when His Royal Highness, Prince Oliver Lantsov, arrives on your door randomly one morning, stopping you on the way out of your apartment with a broad grin and wide splayed arms.

“My Everlasting Delight!” He greets you, formulating a dramatic expression as he peers at you over the frames of his sunglasses. “I missed you, darling.”

“Thought you were in Milan.” You say, staring him down with an empty grocery bag in hand. He shifts on his feet for a moment.

“I uh, was. But then Vivianne…” Olly makes a vague gesture and grimaces. “You know how models are.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Well anyways,” the prince smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders, jovially tugging you down the walkway and towards the street. Cars drive by, busy in the heart of a bustling city. “I just wanted to let you know that my birthday party is coming up. We’re going to Switzerland obviously, and you must come.”

Your stomach twists and you cringe at your friend, the leather of his jacket cool against your arms as you walk. You shrug away from him, the scent of expensive cologne chasing your senses and blending with the crispy breeze of the outdoors.

“I’m not going this year.” You say, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“Why?” His head actually cocks to the side.

“You know why.”

“‘You-Know-Who’?”

“He isn’t Voldemort.” You sigh, rolling your eyes even as your heart begins to weigh heavily against your ribcage, the too full organ seeming to be longing for a way out. “Yeah. Nik.” You sigh again, louder. “It’d be weird and he’d be there and I’d just—I don’t know, have to hang out on the sidelines at a lot of points and I just don’t think—”

“You’re my friend too, you know. If I want you there than he can be mature for once and behave himself, yeah? He’d do that.”

“This isn’t about him behaving, it’s—” you pause, running a hand through your hair in frustration. What do you mean? Sure, some part of you—more than you wanted to admit—longed to see him. To see the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, see the hidden grin he’d give you when he thought someone in a room was being ridiculous, the way he’d find an excuse to touch you no matter who was around, the way—

“Y/N?”

You look at Olly. The prince’s eyebrows are furrowed, an unspoken question on his lips. You force a faint smile and loop an arm through his, resting your head on the boy’s shoulder for a beat.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” You lie, squeezing his arm for emphasis. He nods but a gleam of suspicion lights up those familiar brown eyes. “Seriously. Now what are you doing here?”

Olly watches for another beat before shrugging, relenting to your change of subject.

“Shopping.” He muses, then smiles deviously. “Join me. I have my mother’s card.”

—

The days leading up to the annual ski-trip were filling you with anxiety.

On one hand, somehow Olly had forced you—against all odds—to attend the weekend outing. An overnight flight to Switzerland later and you’re standing in a large hotel room, the view of snow-clad mountains and trees meeting your stare.

When a knock hits your door you turn, opening it hesitantly. The entire hotel smells like expensive vanilla and hints of smoke from the fireplaces, undercut with natural cleaners from the ridiculously efficient housekeepers. The figure standing outside the door gives you a hesitant smile, his freshly cut blond hair short and shiny in the light.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greets, voice laced with nerves, and your heart stops.

Nikolai.

Hello

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you. 

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it. 

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that. 

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you. 

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods. 

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces. 

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug. 

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I… Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless. 

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle. 

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you. 

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath. 

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you? 

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

next chapter

[bblgumgum]

posting this uhhh liech and prussia drabble i wrote back in like 2020 ??

Liechtenstein couldn’t remember much about her days as a newly formed country, the earliest memory she could remember clearly was back when she lived in Mr.Austrias house. Although sometimes she’d get bits and pieces of blurred scenarios involving a man with red eyes who always smiled down at her and a young boy who would talk to her about nonsensical things.

There were also other people there along with them, they all seemed very close, like a family almost.

Sometimes she thinks that she sees Mr.Austria there with them, but even so she doesn’t want to think about it much.Even trying to make sense of those memories makes her head hurt .

—

Liechtenstein and her big brother had been invited by Mr.Austria to eat dinner with him while the we’re getting groceries.Halfway through their meal a strange man with white hair and crimson eyes appeared and began to poke fun at Mr.Austria.

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit when he started to point out all the strange things Mr.Austria did.

She could’ve sworn that she saw his smile get bigger as he heard her laugh...

—

Another one of what she assumes are her very first memories had appeared in her dreams once more.

This time the man with red eyes was easier to see, and to her surprise it was quite clear to her that the man was Mr.Prussia.

Tonight’s memory involved her and Mr.Prussia going through basic combat training with who she assumed were her other long gone allies during that point in time.

She didn’t know why but just hearing praise come from Prussia in her memory like dream filled her with a great deal of pride.

What she couldn’t wrap her head around was why she had called him big brother back then…

—

Liechtenstein spent the next morning trying to figure out what to do, should she tell Mr.Prussia about her strange dreams that could be memories? Should she tell big brother and ask him what to do? What if she asked Mr.Austria and Ms.Hungary, they’ve known Mr.Prussia for a long time right?

Instead she pushed the thoughts to the back of her head and began to work on her and big brother's garden while she waited for him to come back home.

She could’ve sworn that she saw something white run behind the house a few seconds ago...

—

A world meeting was being held in Switzerland this time around and after some convincing she was allowed to attend with her big brother.

He usually tried to go in her place to make sure other countries wouldn’t try to pursue her territory or convince her to do unnecessary trades.

As she walked into the meeting room she noticed that Mr.Prussia was sitting next to Mr.Germany.

She gave a small wave over to them and was surprised to see that Prussia had given her a strangely familiar smile.

She returned it with a smaller one as she went to take her seat in between her big brother and Mr.Austria.

Not noticing that his eyes never left her, as if he wanted to tell her something.

Why does it feel like I knew him way back then, maybe these dreams are really memories of mine…

—

After the meeting ended, as per usual from what she could tell from everyone’s nonchalant reaction to America having a chair thrown at his head, she had made way to talk to Prussia.

“Mr.Prussia, can I ask you something?” He gave her a small nod but not before muttering something about “how unawesome his little sister had gotten over the years.”

“Did you know me when I was a newly formed country? I apologize if it’s a sensitive question.” She took a deep breath before continuing,”It’s just that I’ve been having strange dreams but they feel more like memories to me than anything else, and you are in most of them.” After not getting a response she began to apologize for wasting his time.

Moving to leave she was stopped by the sudden hug that Prussia had given her.

As confused as she was she couldn’t help but smile as she was pressed against his chest, feeling being confusingly familiar to her as if she’d done this before.

“I’m so glad you finally remembered Eri, I’m so happy you remember me.I’d expect nothing less from my awesome little sister.”

There was only one thing she could seem to say to him.

“ it’s nice to see you again too, big brother.”

even if she didn’t really mean it.

[moody-alcoholic]

I rewrote the final 4 chapters now I'm days behind on my projects...

Work bent me over and slapped my ass so I spent the last few days sleeping and throwing a Eurovision party... Switzerland was my favourite to win I do not understand the hate...

Enjoy this sneek peak hopefully I will get this fic finished before the end of next week <3

I'm going to sleep for the next 24 hours...

Sneak peak below <3

“Gaz I’m going to check the room.” I hear him say ‘copy’ as he watches the corner. I walk to the door leaning in. Okay the room is longer then I thought it was going to be. I stepped in making sure it was just the lighting playing tricks on me and not that there was another door. The metal shelves had been ransacked but I could see that they had been filled with food, medical supply's and ammo. I was just about to turn when I felt someone push me. It was not hard just enough to shock me and I stumbled forward. My adrenaline kicked in and I managed to catch myself on a shelf. I looked round my AR drawn, it was a, kid I blinked not quite believing it. Older then a kid he looked about 18?

“Hi,” I said. He must have been hiding behind the door. He didn’t say anything but he looked scared. His eyes wide as he he raised a pistol up.

“Drop it!” I shouted. He was shaking, his finger on the trigger, it was me or him. I took a breath in and moved my finger to the trigger. I had to shoot him before he shot me. A second before I was going to squeeze Gaz jumped on him. I hit the floor worried he could accidentally fire. I looked up seeing Gaz sat on his back pulling his arms. I stand back up and handing Gaz a ziptie. The person is screaming in Russian, I hear his voice break. I step over his legs into the hall Price rushing past me. Ghost puts his hand on my shoulder. I want to squeeze it and let him know I’m okay. I see Price and Gaz pull him up to his feet. I turn to Ghost, his eyes are hard.

“Gaz, Mercy take the entrance.” I look back at Price.

“I’m okay cap.” I say, he looks at me and sighs.

“Go secure the entrance with Ghost.” He sounds defeated. I just want to prove I can deal with this. I nod following Ghost to the entrance. I pull the backpack off my shoulder digging in deep and pass him a door stop. He kicks it into the bottom of the door then stands back up looking at me, his thumb strokes my cheek.

“He’s a kid.” I say putting my hand on his.

“He’s the enemy,” Ghost replies. I sigh dropping my hand.

“Would you have killed him?” He asks. I think back the the moment I had to make the decision. I would have done it, it was my life or his. I nod.

“We can get info from him.” Ghost says, I know he’s right. This whole thing felt like a trap, this was best way of confirming that.

“I need to prove to Price I can do this.” I say. He nods dropping his hand.

“You can do this.” He says. I can do this. I think to myself. I throw the backpack over my shoulder and follow him back into the bunker. This is was and this is our best chance of finding Makarov and Noah. We know he is here, I trust Price and his decision making. If we were led into a trap then they know we’re here. If this was just a random coincidence then we still had the upper hand. I didn’t know which was worse. ‘Happy place got to your happy place’ my brain told me. The house in the highlands, being in bed with Simon. That was my happy place. This was going to suck. I walked into the room standing in the doorway. Price looked at me, I nodded. I looked at the kid, he was not a kid he looked older, being strapped in the chair. He was not a kid he was the enemy. He had stubble on his face he knew how to point and shoot. He was inside known enemy territory. He would have killed me and I would have killed him.

The story so far

[mariacallous]

Five months ago, software engineer Shikhar Sachdev adopted a peculiar hobby. While his friends met for drinks or played FIFA 23 to unwind after work, he would come home, boot up his laptop, and spend hours filling out job applications, for sport.

Sachdev is content with his job at a San Francisco fintech company, but he writes a career blog in his spare time and had noticed a recurring sentiment: Job hunting these days is the worst. Friends described returning home from an exhausting day of work they hated, applying for new positions, and quickly growing discouraged by clunky application software and a low response rate. Research suggests the frustration is widespread: 92 percent of candidates abandon online job applications before completing them, according to the recruitment platform Appcast.

“You might hate your boss. But if you think that searching for jobs is worse, you're never going to change,” Sachdev says. “I wanted to try to put some data behind the claim that job hunting sucks.”

Sachdev set himself the challenge of applying to 500 software engineering jobs to observe exactly what made the endeavor more or less frustrating. Halfway through, however, he hit a snag. “I wanted to chop my head off,” Sachdev says. He scaled back his target to a still brain-melting 250 jobs across a range of industries and company sizes, chosen largely at random—companies he’d seen on billboards, for instance, or friends’ employers.

Sachdev timed each application from start to finish and for consistency always applied directly through a company’s career page—he ended up spending about 11 hours total filling applications. Since he wasn’t looking for a new position, he always stopped short of clicking “Submit” on a completed application, except for a few choice roles that piqued his interest. (He landed three interviews, but didn’t pursue the jobs.) He aimed to make each application serviceable, but wasn't as thorough as a truly ambitious or desperate job seeker would be, so he figures the times he logged are underestimates.

Sachdev found it took an average of 2 minutes and 42 seconds to fill out a job application—but that doesn’t include time spent identifying suitable roles, and the time could vary widely from job to job. The longest took more than 10 minutes, the shortest less than 20 seconds. Much of this variation sprang from the particularities of applicant tracking software.

Applying to work at a company that used Workday, for instance, took 128 percent longer than average for similarly sized companies in the same industry. Workday spokesperson Nina Oestlien called customer service a “core value” at the company and says that application timing is determined by how customers configure their applications. (Disclosure: WIRED owner Condé Nast uses Workday. Also, we’re hiring!)

Starting Over

Sachdev’s job hunting obsession was born partly from rejection. Originally from Geneva, Switzerland, he graduated from UC Berkeley in 2019 with a degree in environmental economics and philosophy. Most of his friends lived in the Bay Area, and career opportunities in the region abounded, so he resolved to stay.

As Sachdev’s senior year wound down, he began furiously applying for local jobs. But his heart sank each time he reached the portion of an application that asked if he needed visa sponsorship. Since he lacked US citizenship, he needed an employer to sponsor him, likely with a specialty H-1B worker visa. “When I would click the H-1B box, my application would go straight into the garbage,” he says. “I was getting rejections four minutes after I applied.”

But Sachdev has the tenacity to power through the uttermost tedium for months on end. And he discovered what looked like a loophole. Foreigners who earn STEM degrees from certain US institutions can work in the country for up to three years without a visa under a federal program called Optional Practical Training. “Who stays at their first job for more than three years?” he rationalized. So when the visa sponsorship question popped up in an application for a product manager role at a major tech company he wanted to work for, he clicked “no.”

After he landed an interview, Sachdev spent 40 hours scouring job sites for tips, cramming his notebook full of hypothetical questions and their responses, compiling a presentation the company required—and totally neglecting his coursework. Half a dozen interviews later, he got the job. His heart soared, but not for long. When he explained his immigration status to the recruiter, she rescinded the offer. Sachdev started over, eventually landing a job with a startup willing to sponsor his H-1B visa, and decided to parlay his experience into a career blog offering help to other hapless job questers.

Job hunters have long complained about the process, but it developed fresh annoyances after moving online starting in the mid-’90s, says Chris Russell, managing director of the recruitment consultancy RecTech Media. Online job boards like Monster and CareerBuilder flooded companies with candidates, giving rise to applicant tracking systems built to help recruiters manage the deluge.

These systems promised to save recruiters time by automatically ranking and filtering applicants based on keywords. From the perspective of applicants required to laboriously enter their information into the software, they felt like a new barrier. “These systems were built with the companies in mind,” says Russell. “They never really considered the user experience from the job seeker’s point of view.” A cottage industry sprang up of tools and résumé whisperers promising to help job seekers get past the automated scanners.

In recent years, new features like psychological assessments and “digital interviews,” in which applicants answer prepared questions into their webcams, only placed more barriers between candidates and human decisionmakers. Meanwhile, the fundamentals of hiring remain stuck in the past, says Scott Dobroski, a career trends expert at jobs platform Indeed. It takes three and a half months for most Indeed users to find a job, he says. “All the other parts of our lives have sped up. The hiring process has not caught up.”

Time Wasters

While job hunters have much to gripe about, from “ghost jobs” to the dreaded “résumé black hole,” Sachdev decided to focus his efforts on the initial application process. He identified three main factors that affected the time it took to apply: the size of a company, the industry it was part of, and the applicant tracking software it used.

Applicant tracking software was a major source of Sachdev’s frustration. The most common systems he encountered were Workday, Taleo, Greenhouse, Lever, and Phenom, which adds AI-powered features on top of systems like Workday. More established systems such as Workday and Taleo redirected him away from the careers page and made him create a separate account for each application, adding significant time and vexation. By the end of his 250 applications, he had 83 separate accounts.

Newer offerings such as Greenhouse and Lever spared him some of these frustrations. Applications through Lever, for instance, took 42 percent less time to complete than the average for similarly sized companies in the same industry.

Sachdev also spent many excruciating minutes retyping information he’d already uploaded on his résumé because software would misread it. Workday, for instance, would routinely populate the education field with “Munich Business School” even though Sachdev’s résumé clearly says he graduated from non-soundalike UC Berkeley. “Sometimes it's not even the time,” he says. “It's the mental fatigue of having to do it every single time.”

The longest application to fill out was for the US Postal Service, clocking in at 10 minutes and 12 seconds, while the shortest was that of hedge fund Renaissance Technologies, which requested only his name and résumé and consumed a mere 17 seconds. In general, Sachdev found that government applications took the longest—a trend that Indeed’s data backs up—followed by aerospace and consulting jobs. Younger industries such as online banks, AI firms, and crypto companies were amongst the least time-consuming. Legacy banks, for instance, took about four times longer to apply to than their newer online counterparts.

Sachdev also found applications to large companies more time-consuming than for smaller firms. In general, a doubling of company size added 5 percent to the average application time.

While the process was largely an exercise in repetition, Sachdev encountered a few creative takes on a musty old format. Plaid, a fintech company that provides APIs to connect software with bank accounts, invited applicants to apply via API. (Sachdev opted for the old-fashioned route, for consistency.) The gaming company Roblox let candidates apply in-game.

While hiring software has historically been stacked in employers’ favor, more job seekers are using their own forms of automation. Bots and tools like LazyApply use text-generation technology like that behind ChatGPT to automatically mass apply to jobs, to the likely chagrin of overwhelmed recruiters. When Sachdev posted his results on discussion site Hacker News, one commenter claimed to use bots to fill out job applications and ChatGPT to write cover letters and correspond with recruiters, fully taking over only at the interview stage. “Can you blame him?” Sachdev says. “Because the companies are doing it too. Their résumé parsers, their application tracking software, and their tools are also using AI. So it's almost as if the applicant now has this weapon they can use against the companies.”

An AI arms race that floods the job market with unserious applicants and insurmountable filtering tools is in nobody’s interest, however. Indeed’s Dobroski says some platforms, including his own, have begun rolling out a new approach that aims to save time on both sides, albeit also by leaning on algorithms. Instead of sending hundreds of résumés into the void and hoping for the best—“spray and pray” he calls it—candidates can list their skills, qualifications, and preferences and let AI suggest suitable jobs to apply for. “The matching really speeds up the hiring process, and it connects the candidate with employers that they otherwise may not even have considered,” he says.

Sachdev has his own ideas for what would make job applications more productive for both seekers and recruiters. First off, he advises applicants to save time and mental anguish by prioritizing employers that use simpler software like Lever and Greenhouse. For jobs he’s really serious about, he’ll try to make a human connection with the hiring manager on LinkedIn.

There’s a saying Sachdev likes, from computer science professor Randy Pausch: The brick walls are there for a reason. Facing and surmounting hurdles can help a person discover how much they want something. But if an employer erects too many barriers, “is an applicant really going to think, ‘That brick wall is there for a reason?’ Or is the applicant going to exit out of your website and go apply somewhere else?” Sachdev says. “I think it's the latter.”