#I don’t even know what it’s sponsoring just why was it such a long sponsor

[seven-thewanderer]

…why is this so long

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter two: Separate Worlds

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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Series Masterlist

The first week of marriage passed like a distant blur, marked by long silences and careful avoidance. Despite the lavish quarters with gleaming marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a breathtaking view of the sea, it felt more like a prison.

You saw little of him during the day. He vanished into the depths of the complex, consumed by duties you weren’t privy to. When he did return, it was late, and he moved silently through the common area, a shadow slipping into the room.

You hadn’t known what to expect from this arrangement, but the suffocating quiet wasn’t it. Not that you wanted a connection, he was a stranger, a cog in the machine that orchestrated suffering and death.

And yet, as much as you hated it, his absence left you alone with your thoughts—thoughts that inevitably circled back to him.

One sleepless night, the storm outside rattled the windows, the wind howling like a beast at your door. You paced the length of the sitting room, the cold marble floor unforgiving under your bare feet. The hours stretched endlessly until, at last, the door creaked open.

You whirled around, your heart racing. He stepped inside, exhausted and weary, his mask still obscuring his face. He paused when he saw you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice cut through the heavy silence.

You folded your arms and leveled a glare at him, willing your pulse to slow. “No. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

He said nothing, only placed the mask on a small table near the door. Then, he stepped further into the room. For the first time, his face was fully visible to you; he was pale, sharp-featured, with exhaustion etched deep into every line. He was undeniably attractive, a man forged from shadows and secrets.

“You’re human after all,” you muttered before you could stop yourself, mockery dripping from your tone.

His gaze snapped to yours, hard and unflinching. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” you shot back. “You hide behind that stupid mask and expect me to pretend that this is normal.” You said quickly and before you could think, you quietly added on, “I don’t even know your name.” Not sure if he heard you, you continued staring him down until he answered you.

His eyes darkened as he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I never asked for this either.”

“Then why agree to it?” The question hung heavy on you.

His jaw tightened. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, quietly, he said, “Because saying no wasn’t an option.”

You scoffed, he was being ridiculous, “There’s always an option. You just chose the easy way out.”

Something flickered in his eyes, perhaps anger, or maybe something far more dangerous. But he didn’t take the bait. “Get some rest,” he said as he turned away. “You’ll need it.”

“For what?”

He didn’t answer. You watched his retreating form until he disappeared into your shared bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. The silence stretched on, pressing against you like a heavy weight on your chest.

Minutes passed before you moved, your feet carrying you down the hall. The faint glow of moonlight seeped into the crack of his door. You stood there, hesitating, before finally stepping inside.

He lay on his side, his breathing steady but not quite deep enough for sleep.

“He couldn’t even be a gentleman and wait up,” you muttered under your breath.

The covers were cool as you slipped into bed, the space between you vast and heavy with things unsaid. Tomorrow, you thought bitterly, would be just another day in this bleak, soulless place.

———————

The next morning, the soft murmur of voices pulled you from sleep. You rubbed your eyes and followed the sound into the sitting room, where you found him standing by the window, speaking into a sleek black earpiece.

He ended the call abruptly when he noticed you, slipping the device into his pocket. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” you asked flatly, heading for the kitchenette.

You felt his gaze on your back as you poured yourself a cup of tea. It was a palpable thing, a fire licking at your skin. Finally, you turned, meeting his eyes with a defiant stare. “Are you going to stand there all day?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not used to being watched, are you?”

The question hit like a punch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your father watches everyone. It’s how he stays in control.”

The mention of your father hit a nerve, a sharp reminder of why you were here. You bristled. “What do you know about him?”

“Enough.”

Tension crackled between you like static electricity. You clenched your jaw, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “If you think I need advice from you—”

“If you want to survive here,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm, “you’ll need to understand how this world works. It’s not as simple as you think.”

“Survive?” You scoffed. “I’m not one of your contestants. I didn’t choose to be here.”

“Neither did I,” he said softly.

There it was again—regret, a fracture in the mask he wore even without the physical one. You stared at him, your heart beating faster than you liked. For the first time, you saw the man behind the title, the chains binding you both to this terrible place.

But understanding didn’t lessen the weight of it. And it didn’t change the truth: you were prisoners here, tethered by a fate neither of you had chosen.

———————

This was the second chapter! I hope you liked it.. :)

Tag list:

@sunny21200

@lucinda-reads

@shakysif

@whoisbriannaa

[chiasaaa]

— anything for you

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: sae finds himself doing things he wouldn’t normally do. all for you.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— itoshi sae knew he was beyond saving the moment he set his phone against his pillow and clicked the record button, holding up three boxes of what seemed to be pr boxes for the brands he’s sponsoring.

no, said brands did not require him to film the pr boxes. they only wished for him to use and test it out in an attempt to gain his brutally honest feedback. so why is it that he has his camera open to do a little review?

it’s because he’s deeply and undeniably in love with a so-called idiot named you. you have him wrapped around your finger, and sae was the one to curl your fingers around him for you. a little while ago—right after emerging from the shower of his hotel room—he sent a photo of the three pr boxes that laid on his bed. his manager did tell him he’ll drop it off around the night.

itoshi sae: they’re here.

itoshi sae: [sent an attachment]

you: ohhh! unboxing vid, pls!

itoshi sae: not my thing

you: aww :PP

you: anyhoo, don’t forget to eat dinner!

you: i’m just pinning my sketches in the new mood board, then i’ll head back home.

he knew there was nothing else to your response. sure, you were a bit dampened by how he flat out rejected your request, but you’re not one to dwell in such silly things either. sae knew that you would be the last person on earth forcing him to do something he doesn’t want to do, and video reviews might as well be nonexistent in his vocabulary.

even so, he decided to give it to you. reviews of the products he’s sponsoring.

oh, may god save his soul.

“we’ll start with this one.” he holds up a pastel yellow box displaying the name of his favorite skincare brand. “i heard they’re releasing a new formula for my moisturizer that’s less sticky. if it works well, then i’ll be using that for my games.”

he takes out a tube from the box and showed it to the camera, plucking the lid open. “the bottle’s bigger than the previous one too, and the design’s more minimal. i like it.”

for the next hour, itoshi sae filmed each and every reaction he had for every product he tested, telling you his brutally honest reviews and picking out which ones he considered purchasing upon launch.

sae didn’t even bother screening the videos before sending them to you, well-aware that you prefer his rawest form than anything else. it is a factor as to why he feels so lucky being with you. though, he’d never admit it right at your face, he simply hopes he shows it enough.

imagine the look on your face when you just finished locking up your office, fishing your phone out to let him know you’re about to head home. instead, you were met with three 15-minute long videos of each promotional box sent to him.

itoshi sae: [sent 3 attachments]

itoshi sae: i have to admit, i like the new sunscreen the most. i’ll contact the company and have another delivered to you.

itoshi sae: you should also try the lip glaze. i remember you’ve been complaining about how your lips dry up in the winter. i’ll give it to you next week when you fly over.

your heart swelled at the sight of him actually filming his reactions, nearly slamming into a lamp post if it wasn’t for your driver tugging you back lightly to prevent you from doing so.

you: you really filmed!

you: i’ll watch it on the way home!

you: i love you, querido <3

and your appreciative messages were enough for sae to know that leaving his heart to rest upon your care is the best thing he’s ever done. you have always been the most positive influence in his life, and you never shame him for anything he does out of his character.

itoshi sae: i love you. head home safe.

[hwallazia]

ARCH MY BACK LIKE THAT VIOLIN – 최산

⋆ synopsis. chosen to perform a violin solo for a xmas recital, he practices tirelessly at home. the haunting melody fills the air, but it’s the way his fingers move masterfully over the strings that stirs something deep within you, leaving you shifting in your seat. when his sharp gaze locks onto yours, he realizes exactly what kind of performance you’re craving—and he’s more than ready to deliver.

pairing. boyfriend! san & fem! reader.

wc. 2,8k

warnings. soft dom! san, slight switch! san towards the end tho, praise kink, slight teasing, begging, petnames (my love, princess, sannie & more), san refers to reader’s tits as his girls <3, nipple play/sucking, unprotected sex (we don’t sponsor that here!), clit play, finger fucking, masturbation (f! receiving), big cawk! san, bulge kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, san makes reader squirt for the first time!! (but not the last tho heheh)

nic’s notes ⋆ yesss she’s here, third ff of the xmas event! i had such a good time writing thisss, i insanely love violinist! san ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

“love, it’s pretty late. c’mon, let’s go to sleep.” you soothed warmly, peeking from the door as you stared at the standing figure of your boyfriend.

“lemme practice this just one more time.”

san stood in front of his black metallic music stand, which held the endless sheet music of a christmas carol. swift, feline eyes wandered through the paper as his index finger shifted over it and stopped once his phalange covered a certain bar whilst his palm grabbed his precious, dark wooden violin. he muttered something under his breath that you couldn’t quite understand, and you stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. “you’ve said that for the past 45 minutes.”

“i knoww.” he whined as he glanced at you pleadingly. after a heavy sigh, san continued. “it’s just that i can’t get this thing right. i keep on messing up the notes and i don’t know why.” in a smooth motion, he left his violin on his desk, right next to its dark brown, matching case.

with a soft sigh, you walked towards him and stroked his sides before your palm reached to cup his right cheek, san immediately nuzzled into your loving hand as he closed his eyes, melting into you.

“my love, you already know how to play it perfectly. the hard part is over—you’ve practiced so much, and it shows.” your calm, soothing voice almost like a lullaby to him. “it’s just the nerves talking right now. tomorrow, once you’re up there, you’ll shine like you always do.” you got on your tippy toes and pressed a small, yet endearing kiss on his rosy cheek. you held his face in your hands. “trust yourself, okay? i believe in you.”

san stole the cute smile plastered on your face with a big, fat kiss. his thin lips melted into yours perfectly as his tongue made its way through your oral cavity —not even asking for permission before enveloping yours in a weird coil. the insides of your mouth tingled deliciously as you felt your limbs numbing from the exquisite and pleasant sensation.

he broke the kiss, yet a string of saliva hung there like a bridge, connecting your bottom lips. your dazed eyes opened and met your boyfriend’s intoxicating, lovely grin. wasn’t that man such a fool for you.

“i love you, y’ know that? so goddamn much.” he whispered right above your lips. he was being careful, afraid that if he even grazed them, he’d dive right in again.

“yeah.” your voice cracked, but you couldn’t care any less. ‘cause that’s the effect choi san has on you, he’d leave you breathless with wobbly legs in just a couple of seconds.

though that kiss may not have lasted long, it felt as if you had traversed the entire milky way in just five seconds.

san chuckled before pecking your reddened lips again. “i’ll just practice this last one. and i promise.” he stuck out his pinky, ready to intertwine it with yours.

you glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “no need to make promises. i’ll just stay here and make sure that it’s actually the last one.”

“fine then.” he headed to where he had left his instrument to grab it again and position it below his chin; slim fingers held the bow and placed it gracefully over the strings. meanwhile, you had made yourself comfortable on the couch placed at the corner of the room, waiting expectantly for your boyfriend to start playing a song.

san’s brown irises travelled across the sheet music once again, before he exhaled, cloed his eyes and started moving the bow masterfully over the strings. a very joyful and beautiful melody began to pour out of the soundbox, the notes reverberated throughout the entire space and created a perfectly charming ambience.

his body swung side to side like a seesaw as he played those notes to perfection, skillful phalanges wandered through the fingerboard, gracefully pressing the tensed strings and emitting those notes he studied so tirelessly.

he looked absolutely majestic. the way his body connected with the music, the way his mind followed every memorized sound and just went along with what sounded and felt right, the way his brows furrowed as he swayed the bow over the strings.

he was one with his instrument, and you loved him so much for that.

as your irises scanned his frame, you mindlessly focused on his fingers, which moved fast, yet calmly over the fingerboard. suddenly, the melodic sound of his violin was overshadowed by the voices in your head, who only screamed how badly you wanted his fingers to hold you, to touch you. by then, the christmas carol would only echo in your eardrums.

you were so drowned in that man’s fingers that you didn’t notice when his cat-like eyes opened and gyrated his rocking body to meet your sitting figure. your thighs automatically pressed against each other, in search of some relief, but it only sent stronger and more consistent sparks into your excited clit. your thoughtless self shifted in your seat, and that’s when san knew.

you were getting off on that.

swift, devilish irises accompanied the sinful smirk that struck his face. he lowered his eyelids once again and purposely skipped a whole pentagram.

he had to help his pretty girl out.

and yet, the man finished the song quickly and perfectly. his eyes fluttered open and glanced at your flustered self, dark irises peered into your warmed cheekbones and dilated pupils.

the melodic echoes suddenly vanished and you blinked, san’s dangerous gaze already burying loving holes into your surprised and anxious expression.

a low hum vibrated through san’s chest. “i’ll give that one to ya. you were right, i actually could do it.” he said before putting his instrument back in its case.

you recomposed quickly, clearing your throat before standing up and wrapping your arms around his neck, closing the space between you and melting into a fondling hug. “of course i was. i’m never wrong when it comes to you.”

his expression softened even more as he kissed the tip of your nose. “cheesy.”

“learned from the best.” your eyes disappeared into two adorable crescent moons as your smile grew wider; cheeks puffing. the sight almost made san’s nose bleed.

he hummed in agreement, and in a matter of a few seconds, something about his stare changed, something that didn’t go unseen by you. before you could scramble through all the possible answers, he bent his knees and reached for the back of your thighs to lift you up. your body jumped from the surprise and your hands quickly clung onto his neck and back when he started walking, carrying you in his arms as if you were a baby.

which was partially correct, ‘cause you were his baby.

“where’re we going?”

“to our bedroom, baby. you said we needed to rest, right?” he replied in a honeyed, yet low tone—the one he knows drives you up a wall. “‘nd i gotta thank my princess for helping me out.” he paused briefly. “it’s only fair i help you back. right, baby?”

thanks to his long steps, you entered your shared bedroom in no time. san cautiously laid your body flat over the mattress, completely sprawled out in front of him.

“h—help me? what d’ya mean?” your blushed face scanned his, and you finally found the arousal lit inside his feline eyes.

“y’ think i didn’t notice you clenching your thighs together when i was playing the violin just now?” he purred into your ear as those fingers you oh so much desired glided over your upper thighs, painfully making their way down in slow motion

“i— i mean, i was feeling cold.” you blurted out. “it’s too damn cold in your studio, you’re mixing things up!”

your whining only made san’s smirk grow bigger. “oh sweetheart, we both know it wasn’t ‘cause of the cold.”

he patted your thigh softly, indicating you to lift your hips a tad. “lemme get you outta these.” you obeyed and he withdrew your black panties smoothly. you reminded yourself to enjoy your last minutes with your short satin nightgown because you knew that it was going to be the next fabric to fly through the air.

“what’re you getting all shy for, hm?” he asked endearingly as he adjusted his position so he could be perfectly between your legs, a strange kind of mercy pouring out from every syllable he mouthed.

“‘s just embarrassing that i’m horny from only you moving your fingers. ‘s ridiculous, i feel like a teenager.” you spouted as the red on your face intensified. quick fingers covered the warmed skin of your face, but even quicker fingers tore them away.

“ohhh baby.” he cooed at you. “and why’s that embarrassing?” he muttered as he swiped his fingers up and down your dampened folds. a delicious spark ignited along your back, making it arch slightly, as goosebumps began to rise at the ghostly touch of his fingertips. “after all,” his fingers stopped wandering around. “you’re getting them wherever you want.”

he whispered lowly and pushed two fingers inside, unhurriedly twisting and turning them around. his digits were dug into a quite familiar place, and san already knew where to guide them. just as if he had studied your pussy to perfection.

meanwhile, you felt full, panting steamy puffs. with your head turning to the side, you mewled endlessly. “ughh sannieee, ‘s too slow.” you complained, your voice barely above a whisper, too shy to meet his gaze, your eyes darting nervously elsewhere.

he tsked and spanked the flesh of your outer thigh softly. “you know better than to ask for things that way, babe.” he spoke in a gravelly manner. “c’mon. be a good girl and look at me.”

with a big gulp, your eyes found the strength to meet his devilish stare. a proud smirk was drawn across his face. “that’s it. now, what do you need, love?”

“f—faster.. please, sannie.” you whimpered softly, praying he’d show some mercy and not tease you throughout the entire night.

because as much as you were embarrassed to admit it, it was true. you needed him. and right fucking now.

“that’s my girl.”

and who is he to deny you your wish. he immediately rammed his slim fingers into your slit, angling them differently every time as he tried to hit all the right places, and that special, gummy spot was soon found and stroked deliciously. a loud cry escaped your lips when he pressed his fingertips against your g-spot. san grunted as your moans sent sparks right to his hardened, restrained cock. he exhaled harshly as he grabbed the corner of your dress. “get this off, wanna see my girls.”

both of you messily got rid of that fabric san would describe as annoying. now, with nothing else that could stop him, he latched his lips onto your perked nipple, sloppily swirling his tongue all around the bud whilst his free hand attended the other one.

he wasn’t going to neglect any part of you.

meanwhile, you were an unleashed whining and writhing mess underneath him. your chest heaved with every breathless sound you emitted. you felt like he was eating you alive, any of his actions saturating every inch of your being, causing your skin to tingle helplessly.

if that was how heaven felt like, you’d beg god to never let you leave that moment.

‘cause fuck. you felt him everywhere. the tip of his tongue and finger gliding over your nipples, his digits pounding your messy, wet pussy, drenched with that creamy white essence. you could sense it all at the same time, and it was about to tip you over the edge.

he pulled away from your swollen nipple for a moment. “i feel you tightening around my fingers. you ‘bout to cum, princess?” he whispered in a velvety tone, one that made your eyes roll all the way back to your skull. and he didn’t let that go unnoticed. “oh you’re so pretty when you’re about to cum, rolling your eyes back. am i filling you up that good, babe?” a loud and broken whimper was all he got as a response, and at that, he chuckled deeply. “guess i am, huh?” he pressed a little kiss on your cheek, which was covered in a light layer of sweat. though san couldn’t care less. “what a pretty girl you are, coming all undone for me. how did i get this lucky, hm?”

something unknown stirred inside you—something that could be compared with the sensation of wanting to pee. an alert rang inside you, and your shaky hands tried to tear san’s hands off your body. “s—sannie. sannie, love. i need to- ngh! please, wait—ahh fuck!” you desperately cried out loud, dying of embarrassment already.

“let me make you cum first, sweetheart. you’re so close already.” he cooed at you before attaching his thumb toyour clit and start rubbing it in circling motions. with a broken scream, you felt liquid gushing out of you in a strange way, like a spray.

you exhaled breathlessly, soundless pants pouring out your mouth. your dazed eyes couldn’t focus appropriately, they just wandered around the room dizzily. after a moment, you could reorganize your thoughts and, at least, muttered an understandable sentence. “wh.. what happened.”

signs of confusion described your expression and san only stood there, wordlessly admiring your state. he blinked twice before speaking again. “you fucking squirted.”

“what? i squirted?”

“yeah you did, attagirl.” he trapped you between his strong, muscly arms, his frame completely covering yours. dark, sinning eyes analyzed every bit of your flushed, blissed-out expression quietly. “now on my cock.”

“i don’t even how i did that, san!” you squealed as your hands reached up to cover your shining face.

“me neither. i guess we’ll just figure it out together.” he hummed lowly. “give me six rounds.”

your eyes shot open as you separated your fingers, your eyes now visible from the crack of them. “six?!”

trembling knees and arms tried their best to support you, but san pounding you from behind wasn’t helping. your jaw hung open as loud cries and broken whimpers escaped your swollen lips helplessly, your eyes could no longer focus, and you had given up on trying to adjust your vision. san grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back into a perfect obtuse angle. “that’s fucking it.”

his name left your mouth like an endless mantra. every thought of yours screamed san and how good he was fucking you. “sannie” you blurted out his favorite nickname. “y’r so fucking deeeep.” tears started streaming down your face, and that drove san crazy.

“you crying? ohhh” he cooed mockingly. “y’r so— ugh fucking gorgeous when you c-cry, look at that.”

he let go of your hair and your head fell down immediately. his now free hand reached down your belly whilst he kept on hammering his big cock into your tight, gushing pussy. he pressed his palm flat against it and you lost it. an almost pornographic moan was heard from you. “can you feel me, love? feel me filling your tight little pussy all the way up?” he groaned as he sensed his cock emptying your belly and fulfilling to perfection, not leaving blank spaces. “attagirl. taking all my cock just like that like my good girl.” a loud spank reverberated through the steamy air.

you clenched around him helplessly as your quivering fingers struggled to grasp the messy white sheets. “c—cum, sannie, cum for me, please.”

you were begging for him to come? that immediately pushed san off the abyss. “y’ wan’ me to cum? wan’ me to breed you? ‘s that what it is, baby?”

you couldn’t formulate any answer, only vague and useless mewls poured out of you. so san kept on talking. “answer me, love.” he smashed his hips against the flesh of your wet ass. “i’ll only cum if you s—say so.” he exhaled a whine. he whined. “you’ll let me, r-right?”

oh how have the tables turned.

“yeah, my sannie. fill me up.” you managed to mutter.

“thank you—thankyouthankyouthankyou.” with just a few more thrusts, he emptied himself inside your warm, gummy walls with a loud grunt, coating your cunt in a pretty shade of white. when he pulled out to paint your ass with his shooting ropes of cum, a turbulent cascade sprayed out your pussy, soaking him up.

a proud, slightly tired smile appeared across his face. “i made you squirt again.” he muttered before lying down. he manhandled you like a doll so you could be laying on his chest.

you sighed breathlessly. “you sound like a toddler beating his brother in mario kart.”

he giggled. “it’s so mesmerizing though, being the only one who can make ya squirt like that.”

you lifted your head to look at him with confusion written all over your face. “what do you mean ‘like that’?”

“babe that thing’s a cascade. like it just sprays everything everywh—“ your hands quickly reached up his mouth and sealed it.

“okay babe, we get it. save the detail.” you deadpanned.

| masterlist

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Chapter One -> Next Chapter

“Welcome back from patrol, Miss Songbird, that’s what the press is calling you right?” your boots rang out against the metal floor of the warehouse that you and your so called group of misfits called home, all runaways, all some sort of vigilante, none of you knew each other's real names and nor did you need to, it would just bring back bad memories for most of you and for all of you it gave plausible deniability it anyone ever came looking. You spotted the one you all called Foxglove sitting on one of the couches in the warehouse, she was the one who was talking to you as you walked in. Foxglove is a young woman, your age give or take a few months, long red hair and blue eyes, she was a tall young woman, probably from around Central City from where you could place her voice, but none of that really mattered, the past did not matter, only the here and the now. “Hard night or nah?”

“Not really, I just avoided a run in with Red Robin, he almost spotted me when I was on the Madison Street bridge, I almost crashed my bike trying to avoid him this time.” You spoke to her as you took off your mask, peeling it away from the skin by your eyes. Your suits and gear were gifts from someone you had saved from a hostage situation, a wealthy businessman from Coast City, Mark Austen, he had sponsored your work with no strings attached except a friendly relationship so if you needed help just ask and vise versa with him, he came by every month or so to drop of a shipment of gear and repairs and he did know your nicknames and faces but certainly not your real names, well knew yours due to your paths crossing before but that was another life. You sat down on the couch across from Foxglove, your body falling down with a heavy thump, you would need a replacement soon, you should ask Mark on the next shipment of supplies. You cracked your neck and threw your head back on the backrest of the couch with a heavy sigh. “Also, please don’t call me that, it makes me sound like one of them and not one of us, ya know?”

“You mean like one of the bats and birds? I mean that’s fine I guess.” She groaned, laying back on the couch and crossing her legs over the armrest. She was off of patrol for the next few weeks, got shot a few days back by one of Black Mask’s men and got her foot pretty messed up, so she has been on communication links and the technical sides of things. “I don’t get why you won’t work with them at all, I mean even Clove and Nettle have sucked up to work with the Bat. It’s a personal history, I’m right aren’t I?”

“You're rarely wrong.” 

“Were you one of them? Like one of the Bat’s birds?” 

“...Kind of… I…I… wasn’t… one of them exactly.” You choked on your words as a sudden weight on your chest sparked up yet again, a weight you have not felt in a very long time. How long has it been since you left them? Three years, maybe four? You brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and hugging yourself close as your eyes fixed upon one of the tinted out windows of the warehouse. “I… I don’t like talking about it.”

“Oh… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories.” She apologized to you, her more relaxed tone falling into a deep pit of sympathy to you. There was a beeping from the laptop that sat on the coffee table between the two of you, the one that she had been using to watch the communication line, someone was calling in. She grabbed the computer and answered the line, catching your attention as you listened in. “Clove, Foxglove and Nightshade here, what’s your status?”

Right… Nightshade… that was your name now.

“Ya, Henbane and I have a bit of a situation here…” Clove’s voice cuts through the line and there was a bit of unease in her voice as she spoke to you both. “We’re down Southside, by the docks, there was supposed to be that shipment tonight… that was a front, there is a lady here who wants to meet.”

“Well Nettle is up by Gotham University at the moment and I am stuck here at base with my foot-”

“No she just wants to meet with Nightshade- or she called her Songbird anyway, says she knows her.” Clove’s words made you prick up, no one has known any of you for years, you all ran away and when you did you all became nameless. “I don’t think she is one for negotiation but I also don’t think she’ll let us leave unless Nightshade is here.”

“Can you tell us what she looks like-”

“Don’t, I know who it is, or a very good guess at least.” You stood up from the couch and grabbed your mask once again and pressed it back onto your skin as you made your way back to the warehouse garage. “Turn on my spare tracker just in case anything goes wrong, Foxglove. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Do you think she’ll kill you?”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

________________________

You pulled your bike over in an alley as you neared the trackers that were on Clove and Henbane, tucking it behind a dumpster so no one would see it while you were away. The docks were dead this time of night, there was a drug bust last night by Batman so the docks were dead in case he was still lurking about tonight, but you knew he was not, you knew him better than that. You walked down the cement road, following it as you neared the water, according to their trackers Henbane and Clove were by the north east waterside of the docks.

“About damn time you showed up, Nightshade.” You looked up to see Clove leaning up against a warehouse wall, Henbane next to her. Clove was an innocent looking girl, she was fourteen maybe fifteen when you all started, so now she was just barely an adult if that, she looked like a terrified lamb with her short wavy brown hair and eyes, her freckles and round glasses. Henbane was not as innocent looking as his best friend, he was a big guy, six foot, five inches, curly brown hair and green eyes, and just pure muscle. They walked over to you, Clove looking a lot more terrified than her counterpart, she was normally the one on communication links. “She hasn’t said anything since we called and just has been standing there, waiting.”

You glanced behind them, and just ten yards or so away stood a silhouette of a powerful looking female frame, only the shape was visible in the darkness of the Gotham night. You took a deep breath in and out and took a step forward, pushing away Henbane’s hand when he tried to stop you, you glanced at him and Clove, not even bothering to force a smile at them, time for that sort of thing was long lost. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, just wait here.”

They nodded before you walking off, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared her, it was the first time in years that anyone has found you, you knew that your family had been searching for you since you left but they never found you, on both sides of things, with and without masks. But really you shouldn’t be surprised that she was the one who found you first, she was not a part of them exactly but she cared for you nonetheless, if you can call it caring. You came to stand next to her, looking over the still waters of the night. You saw her turn to you out of the corner of your eye, you felt her hand come up onto your cheek gently caressing your skin before reaching for the mask and peeling it away from your skin, revealing your face before both of her hands came up your face to turn your head to look at her.

“You’ve grown so much.”

“Hello Talia.” Seems like you were right about who was waiting for you, none other than the daughter of the demon, Talia Al Ghul. You would need to get in touch with Mr. Austen sooner or later and see what he could do about shutting down the media on you and your friends, you needed to stay nameless. You pushed her hands away from your face, grabbed your mask from her hands and pressed it back onto your face. “Make this quick, this is on your son’s patrol route and he’ll be here soon-”

“He is also your brother if you had forgotten.”

“And yet, you are not my mother.” You glared at her, eyes narrowing at her as she turned to look back over the moonlit waters. “I will ask you one more time, what do you want, Talia?”

“You remind me of your father.”

“Fuck this, I’m heading back to base.” Right as you turned to head back to your bike she grabbed your wrist, holding you back, you should not try to fight her, she could break every bone in your body if she wanted to, she would not do such a thing, not to you, but she certainly could. You snapped at her verbally, your voice like daggers. “What?”

“Something dangerous is brewing in Gotham, something beyond what you and your… friends can handle.” She glanced over to where Henbane and Clove were standing, just out of earshot before looking back at you. “Go back home tonight, my dear.”

“Or what?”

“If you leave me no choice, then I will wait here until my Damian arrives here on his patrol and tell him about who is behind that mask you wear.” 

she released your hand and you stepped away from her, glancing back at her after she spoke, just looking her over, she certainly was not bluffing about this. You turned away from her, walking away, back to Clove and Henbane as you called out to her. “Well I better get a headstart then.”

“You are making a mistake, dearest.”

“I have made plenty of those before and I am still alive, Talia.” You heard her sigh and you waved back towards your friends and you just knew they would be asking a million questions after your conversation but you pressed your finger to Clove’s mouth as she was about to peep. “I’ll explain later, get a hold of Foxglove and get her to tell everyone to get back to base now.”

“But Nettle is-”

“No buts, we don’t have any time to fight on this, we need to regroup and I need to fill you all in about… more than a few things.”

________________________

“So what’s this emergency meeting all about, something Nightshade got caught in?” Nettle questioned, everyone was sitting around the kitchen table, well the only proper dining table you had in the warehouse. Nettle was a short young man, you all took him in about a year ago, seventeen now, short blonde hair and green eyes, he was the one who had the most known backstory out of all of you, and that was you all knowing he was from Metropolis, you didn’t ask questions and you did not need to know. 

“More like my past coming back to haunt me.” You sighed and crossed your arms, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, feeling a need to physically distance yourself while you gathered your thoughts. “You all have been in Gotham for quite some time, but I was born here and well a few things have come to the surface.”

“What things?” 

You sighed at Henbane’s question, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, it was a  burner from Mr. Austen because god knows you cannot have something for them to find you. You had opened up to a news article about a disappearance from a number of years ago, your disappearance. You set it in the middle of the table for all of them to read the headline at least and see the photo underneath that. “My old family, if you can call them that, knows my identity as of around three or so hours ago.”

All of them just stared at the headline for a long moment, Clove was glancing between you, the phone, and everyone else to see their reactions before her gaze fell back to rest upon you. “You’re one of Bruce Wayne’s kids?”

“Yep, I am his youngest daughter and biological child.”

“And we should be afraid of Bruce Wayne, why? He is just some rich playboy-”

“No he is not.” you cut Foxglove off and everyone’s heads turned to you. “The whole rich playboy persona is a cover up, he… he… he’s the Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, whatever you want to call him.”

“So wait, are your siblings like Nightwing or Robin?!”

“Wait, were you a Robin?”

“She couldn’t have been, Henbane was the one who taught her how to fight… right?”

“Is this why you don’t like the Bats?”

“I… just one at a time, please.” You asked your friends as they suddenly bombarded you with questions and statements and they all hushed at your request. “First of all, yes, those are my brothers, but I wished they weren’t. Secondly, no I was never a Robin or whatever, I didn’t want to be and even if I wanted I would not be allowed to be, I never learned how to fight, they thought they were protecting me.”

“Weren’t they?” Nettle questioned you, glancing about the table for approval from the others. 

“They did not… I… let me explain.” You jumped back onto the counter, crossing your legs and sitting down on it. You took a deep breath in and out, closing your eyes and taking a minute to calm yourself. “What I am about to tell you brings back some bad memories and it took a long time and some help from Mr. Austen to connect all the dots on this since a lot of it my mom didn’t want me to know because I was young and she wanted to protect me…” “It’s okay.” You heard Henbane’s voice tell you, like he could practically hear your heart racing. “Take as much time as you need, none of us like to think about the past.”

“I’m fine… I’ve had a long time to come to terms with this… but thank you.” You opened your eyes and smiled at your friend and his intimidating frame was not frightening to you, not anymore, actually it never was, he was the one who found you alongside Foxglove when you managed to sneak away during a charity gala, they found you in that alleyway not long after they found each other. “My mother was engaged to Bruce Wayne a long time ago, before the first Robin, Dick Grayson, even came around and when he was just starting really as the Bat. My mom loved him, but if they ever had any kids she didn’t want them to be involved or hurt by anything he got involved with, she didn't want that sort of life. So she called off their engagement and left him, and like clockwork she found out she was pregnant with me a few days later.”

“She raised you by herself?” You nodded at Clove’s question and a deep look of pity came across her face. “That must have been so hard for her.” 

“Don’t we… not gonna lie we were filthy rich, we were just fine with my mom’s own money.” That comment drew a laugh from Henbane and Foxglove along with an embarrassed chuckle from Clove. “My mom was a really great mother and an even better single parent, I was always by her side, she took me all around the world and it was just us for a really long time. Then one day we returned to Gotham for some big charity party when I was seven I think and she saw Bruce again and he saw me… I was young and naive to the dangers of the world like most other children, but then again the children in his life had been right with him fighting crime, I mean that woman at the docks, she is my half-brother’s mother, she is the daughter of the leader of the League of Assassins, Talia Al Ghul…”

“...are you serious?” There was a shocked silence in the room after you said that before Henbane spoke up and you nodded to his question, he just stared off as he leaned back into his chair. “Jesus Christ…”

“Ya, he is now the current Robin, Damian Wayne, trained by the League of Assassins- but that is another story, sorry I was rambling. Anyway he never got over my mom and now that I was around he wanted to protect us and I know my siblings may have been the ones to kind of prove his point with that. I know my oldest brother, Dick, tried to talk to my mom about that but that didn’t work and so then Tim, he… he started to look into my mom to find blackmail.”

“To blackmail your mother.”

“Right on the money, Clove. So when it was the day before we were supposed to leave and this part is actually my fault… I ran away from my nanny and I almost got kidnapped and I got saved by the Red Hood-”

“Wait, is the Red Hood also-”

“My brother? ya, he is, his name is Jason… he was actually pretty nice to hang out with, him and my sister Cass, Cassandra Cain. I remember after he rescued me, Jason took me to Wayne Manor and I met my father for the first time and I remember it was nice, until it wasn’t… I remember my fath- Bruce coming back later that night with my mom, they were going to get married and it just felt off. I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what until it became clear to me over the years, Damian threatening my classmates at school when I was kid when they only wanted to have lunch with me, or when I found a file upon file about me and my mom and photos of us in Tim’s room, or hell when I got a boyfriend he almost got strangled by Damian and got his life threatened, and when I punched a kid at school I got sent to Bludhaven to live with my brother, Dick, or there was the time I was… I was having sex with my boyfriend and for that I got locked in my room for over a month and then… actually I don’t like talking about that.” You sighed and let your shoulders relax, looking over your friends and gauging their shocked and disturbed reactions. “You all get the idea now, and so as of a few hours ago they know I am still here in Gotham and who I am behind the mask, thanks to Talia Al Ghul who I have an… interesting relationship with.”

“But why?”

“I refused to go home, thanks to the feed that has been shown on news she found me and well she is going to tell them, or rather she has already.” You glanced over to the evidence board that is over on the far end of the warehouse, by all of your gear and the bikes, well you and Clove were the only one with bikes, Mr. Austen was working on an armored car for the others since you can Clove were the only one to know about motorbikes, you from the times you snuck into the Batcave or when Jason brought you down to hang out while he worked or even when Kate Kane snuck you out on hers. “She told me that something dangerous is in Gotham, beyond us, but then again I do not know if she would lie about that or not… it’s been awhile since I last saw Talia… she was very fond of my mother, kind of like my dad is of my mom.” 

“So what now? If something like that is here we can’t team up with the Bats anymore, that would be crazy to risk losing one of our own.” Nettle added in looking at everyone around the room. “And plus they know we know you and where you are.”

“So we just need to be more cautious on patrols, we have a shipment from Mr. Austen coming in tonight before patrols. I can see if he will be willing to help us out, teach him the communication lines so when my foot is healed I can head out with the rest of you.” Foxglove spoke up to Nettle’s concern before she looked at you. “Then I am guessing from what you said, Mr. Austen already knows.”

“Ya, he recognized me the moment of that first delivery when I was out of my suit, he is a friend so we can trust him.”

“Mkay… wait a second…” Foxglove paused and looked at you, an idea already coming to her mind. “If they know you are still in Gotham now then you don’t have to hide anymore. I mean how many press are going to recognize you four years later and the Bats aren’t out during the day besides Signal but you aren’t in costume during the day so it’s not like he can interact with you at all unless he wants to expose himself.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“You can head out during the day, find allies, I mean you couldn’t before cause your family is still in Gotham and didn’t know you’re here and Nettle can’t still because he only went missing a year ago and would be too recognizable, but the rest of us can.” Foxglove grabs one of the writing pads from the table and a loose pen, waking you all over to gather ‘round as she begins scribbling down a schedule, or something along those lines. “We don’t leave the warehouse alone, groups of two or more now, the Bats will connect the dots but none of us have civilian identities anymore, I mean hell, Mr. Austen calls us the nameless, no one will know or recognize us anymore. I am stuck here for now cause of this foot, but when I am free to move, Henbane is with me on the streets and Clove is with you, Nightshade, but until then both of you are to stick with Nightshade, and then Nettle and I will hold up the fort here.”

“So then… where to now?” Clove questioned, looking at you, or more specifically, looking you up and down, clearly judging your appearance of sweatpants and a tee shirt since you have pretty much been in hiding for four years, not much need for nice clothes. “Actually some different clothes would do you some good, c’mon, I’ll lend you some of mine and we can ask Mr. Austen for some cash to go shopping when he swings by later tonight.”

“Our sugar daddy.”

“No, more like our rich wine aunt who spoils us.”

“How about we just call him our benefactor?”

“No.” 

________________________

Luckily your rich benefactor gave you more than supplies for vigilantism, but also supplied you more everyday transportation and funds for those sort of normal items, like a licenced bikes along with your armored ones for your use, along with fake ID cards, but you really did not need those anymore, you could even park in a parking garage, that felt weird to you now. You could not remember the last time you stood in a coffee shop line, maybe the last time Barbara and Dick took you out, you felt so flustered that Clove had to order for you. 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself over if, I remember the first time Foxglove and I headed out to the streets for the first time, it felt like a whole other world, it just takes time to get used to.” Henbane tried to comfort you as you walked out of the coffee shop, drinks in hand. “Clove was also a fish out of water.”

“It just feels weird to be out here, like normal.” 

“Well, we’ll get you back to normal soon enough.” Clove patted you on the back and you forced a smile before staring down at your iced coffee, this felt nice, it felt normal. “Any other place you need to stop by before heading back to the warehouse.”

“...Actually ya…” You looked up at Henbane and Clove, taking a deep breath in and out. “Call me crazy… but I want to go see my mom.”

“Your mom… wait, that means going back to Wayne Manor-”

“Clove, I haven’t seen her in four years, please.” You looked your friend dead in the eye and smiled, one of hope for a change. “They’ll respect a truce, especially with what I know from Talia, I don’t think she would have given a warning when she only wanted me to try to get me out of the way of it, besides maybe some of the leads we have for out cases connect to what’s coming and she knew and that’s why she wanted us out of the way.”

“I…fine, but we’re going in with you.” Clove responded before Henbane could and she shot a look at him when he tried to. “We’ll send word to Foxglove and Nettle along with Mr. Austen, so if anything goes south they’ll know where to find us and besides don’t they?”

“They do, but still Nightshade, we need to stay safe and this-”

“I’ll be fine, after all we do have leverage.”

“And if you’re not fine?”

“Then I’ll be safe from whatever Talia warned me about.”

________________________

Your bikes pulled up to the gate of Wayne Manor, it had been years since you saw the grounds you used to live at and none of it has changed, it has the same sprawling grounds, the same iron and brick fence, and surely the people inside have not changed much either. It took you a moment before you heard the intercom buzz next to the gate, luckily it was just audio and motion, not camera. 

“It’s… it’s me, I’m here to talk.”

You could practically hear the shocked silence from the other end of the line before the gate swung open and you could pull forward before it shut behind the three of you. By the time you pulled up to the front door and took off your helmets the door of the manor had flung open and you saw Dick as the first one standing there, staring at you, he looked like he was about to cry at the sight of you. At the sight of someone, both Clove and Henbane tensed up, ready to jump in front of you at a moment’s notice, Dick quickly caught onto their defensive behavior and his eyes narrowed at them, glancing between the two of them.

“Talia told Damian last night… Please tell me it’s not true.” As Dick spoke those words, his eyes fell on you just as you could make out the silhouettes of everyone else in the doorway, minus Duke, he must be on patrol. Damian and Tim came just next to Dick, they really didn’t look much different from how you last saw them, more tired maybe, you could spot Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra behind them, and it felt like you could practically hear Bruce’s footsteps from inside the manor. “Please… you can’t be.”

“It is true…” The air left your throat as you saw a muscular figure push past his children and there in the doorway you make eye contact with him, your father, Bruce Wayne. His gaze left like death by a thousand cuts, but you swallowed your fear and looked him dead in the eye as it felt he was daring you to say that again. “I am not lying, after all my mother taught me better than that.”

You heard your father sigh and rub his temples with his forefinger and thumb as he walked down the stairs, he was still acting like you were a child and the life you lived for the past four years has just been a game you have been playing with your friends at recess. “Let’s get you inside and we can talk this over while Alfred gets your room ready.”

When he reached out and grabbed your wrist you felt yourself stiffen up and there was not a moment of pause before Henbane reached out for his throat, a big mistake. Without skipping a beat, you saw your father release you and reach out and grab your masculine friend’s arm and flip him onto his back and then the next thing you knew you were pushed behind Clove as she had pulled out her handgun and had it pointed at your father’s head, another mistake, but it seemed your father was more in a negotiation mood. He glared down at Clove, looking her dead in the eye behind her thick glasses. “Put the gun down.”

“No-”

“Clove, put down the gun.”

“You said this was going to be a visit! I don’t want to lose you-”

“Clove, please!” You were practically begging your friend at this point, you could practically hear her heavy breathing as she was on the point of tears and breaking down and sobbing. “Clove...”

You just watched your father grab the gun from your friend’s hands, tossing it on the ground. He looked back to your siblings in the doorway. “Dick, Jason,  get them inside and sit her down, she needs to calm down.”

“But-”

“Now!”

Dick didn’t argue any further and he walked down the front steps and ushered Clove inside, talking to her as if she was a citizen in distress, meanwhile Jason just practically picked up Henbane over his shoulder and carried him inside as if he was just a giant sack of potatoes. 

What vigilantes you all were.

You felt Bruce’s hand come to rest upon your shoulder and you looked him in the eye as he smiled at you, it should be comforting, a fatherly smile, but you just hated that look, it just always made you feel like there was a pit in the bottom of your stomach and you wanted to vomit. 

“You’re back home-”

“I’m not staying.” you cut him off and slapped his hand away. You glared at him, gritting your teeth behind your lips. “I only came because I was warned about something dangerous and because Talia’s actions have let me walk outside again. So you would be wise to not to do anything, because if me or my friends aren’t back before patrol tonight then I promise you all of Gotham will know who the Batman is along with the rest of you, and do not try me on this because I promise you I am not nor even was that helpless little girl you pictured me as.”

“...Fine, we’ll discuss this inside.”

[acesofspadess]

Lucky Star

max verstappen x reader

warnings: PDA?? breaking up??? curse words,

summary: upgrades to his car were fine, but having his lucky star in the lone star was even better

Max had not won a race since June, many fans believed it was because of the breakup between him and his now ex Kelly, but no one really knew why his demeanour that was unfazed and really not up for fun changed over the summer break.

You did though, that’s because you were what changed. You had officially met Max at the Monaco Grand Prix a few months back. You were not new to the F1 world, having been to a few races in the past. You had a very strong love for the sport and went whenever it was possible. You had been invited by RedBull for your work in Tag Heuer- one of their biggest sponsors.

As a designer for one of the most expensive watch brands, you got paid very well, being able to live in the principality yourself, but not many people knew who you were, and you were more than okay with that. You lived yourself as you wanted, without the opinions you couldn’t care less about flooding your comment section.

“And this is Y/N from Tag Heuer. She’ll be in the garage this weekend.” Christian introduced you to Max. “Max, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand with a smile. You shook his hand with a greeting of your own. “Are you ready for this weekend?” You followed up, politely. “I hope so.” He laughed in his natural fashion. “It’s hard to overtake here, let’s hope you don’t have to.” You joked back and he looked almost happy you had an idea on what you were talking about. “You know in the chicane….”

That was the first time you met Max, you had small conversations throughout the weekend, but not enough to leave a lasting impression, or so you thought. Over the summer, Tag Heuer was creating a custom version of their Monaco watch for Max himself, and to the company, it only made sense that it was designed in Monaco, by the new head of design that lived in Monaco…you.

You walked into the back room of the store setting up for the appointment that was scheduled in a few moments. Nothing in you thought Max, who met people everyday would remember you, especially after his public breakup with Kelly and lack of a race winning car following Spain.

“Y/N?” You looked up from your iPad to see Max walking in. “It is indeed. How are you?” Max seemed to go through the formalities and the extent of designing the watch easily, but you could tell something else was on his mind. “Well, this isn’t too far off the original design, only a few colour changes. It should be ready in a few months time.” You said walking out of the office with him in tow. “I’m sure you know if you have any questions you can always call.” You ended your speech. Max nodded looking out the glass doors before looking back at you. 

“I do have one question.” He started and you nodded at him to continue. “Would you want to have lunch with me?” He asked softly, a blush rising to his cheeks. You smiled at the question, of course you would love to, but until you handed these papers off and your process was done, that was a very strict…

“Max, I would love too,” you started softly, and Max was smart enough to know where your tone of voice was heading, “but until this,” she waved the small iPad, “is out of my hands, you know I can’t.” You finished telling him and he looked at the iPad like he would another car on track.

“How long?” The look on your face said enough about your confusion. “Until this,” he pointed, “is out of your hands?” you but your lip to keep your chuckle at bay. “Maybe two, even three weeks.” You admitted. “I’ll wait then.” He promised. “Max, not to say I’m not flattered, but we’ve had a handful of conversations in the past, months ago even, when you had a girlfriend, is this even a smart thing for you to do?”

Max seemed mildly taken aback. “You may have a point,” he nodded his head, “but I enjoyed our conversations a lot, I didn’t feel like Max Verstappen the world champion, I just felt like Max.” He reasoned and it was one you couldn’t argue. With a slight chuckle you agreed, “Three weeks it is.”

You had actually managed to get to Switzerland and set the watch into work within two weeks, but when you told Max, he had been in Ibiza with Lando and Martin Garrix. You two talked as much as you could over the time zone, and by the time you finally met up for your date, it felt natural, like you had done it plenty of times before.

Over the course of the next few months you and Max spent whatever free time he had in his apartment. You never minded just sitting on his couch while he streamed with Redline or just winded down, you simply enjoyed each others company. At first Max didn’t know how to attend to you, he was used to having to go out almost every day, buy things, order other stuff, or just constantly be running in his relationships. After you had told Max you didn’t need anything from him other than himself he relaxed and you two were better than ever.

You hadn’t been to any more races since becoming Max’s girlfriend. You were in the process of designing a new watch, and that took a lot of your time.

Austin was the first race of the triple header Max had made you promise you would attend. You were happy you did as well. You had watched Max win anything for the first time since Spain. You wiped the small tears that went down your cheek as you watched from the pit-lane but more filled at every wipe.

You watched as he got out of his car and ran to his crew that congratulated him. You hadn’t seen Max smile this much at a race in a long time. Despite having interviews- that Max didn’t care for- he came running to you and with no thought in his head and kissed you, shielding most of the kiss with his water bottle. “I love you.” He whispered and you knew the tears were no longer from his win. “I love you.” You recited back to him and he kissed you again smiling as he pulled away before running off to his interview.

After making your way from the pit lane and into the garage Christian patted your shoulder, “I think you should be around more often.”

maxverstappen1 posted!

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[kooyabooya]

OMISSION

m reader x julie // 21k words

There’s always going to be that one occurrence in your lifetime. Where, even when all possibilities of it happening just doesn’t seem to line up, still does. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

Doomed to regret, or relieved of the fact that you’re given a chance after waiting for who really knows how long, it all arrives in the same fashion. You’re pretty certain that things like these transpire for a reason; and sometimes, the best part about this mystery is what’s to come after. 

Truth be told, it’s an unexplainable miracle how Julie still remembers you after all these years. 

Okay, that statement itself might be an over exaggeration, and it’s been roughly about five years? Maybe seven? Shit, it might be even eight or more. The game of life doesn’t have time for someone like you to stand idly, dozing off and unbothered like that’s how you want things to be. 

Nonetheless, you analogized this to your circle of friends about how you and Julie are like parallel lines: destined to be side by side, never to cross each other's paths to meet in the middle. You’ve convinced yourself long ago there would never be any form of instance crossing past that line of being in love with her, ever. Despite what everyone says otherwise, the teasing never stopped; a recurrence every once in a while with your high school friends (and hey, it’s not your fault that you tense up at the bare mention of her name or see a picture of you and her together from when you were kids and not have a crossing thought of what could’ve been). She’s been the one person who was always there for you, until eventually going away and out of your life before you could even understand what any of that meant in the first place.

It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time you’ve set eyes on her or the last, because a part of you seems to stop in their tracks whenever she’s within line of eyesight. 

–

Midday, at the peak of rush hour traffic around the airport, there’s a scramble of newcomers and departing travelers through the doors of the terminal. The sporadic influx of people with one or two hand carries, and various cart goers with enough baggage to stay in the country for more than a projected month. 

You pull the corner of your lip when you see a familiar shade of bright ash colored hair, retro shades shielding her face from anyone that might notice at a glance. Her luggage was surprisingly less than what you have expected: a bulky backpack that’s roughly the size of her entire midsection (she could go hiking or backpacking for all you know) and a large suitcase with a duffel bag stacked on top of it. 

Julie being Julie, she decided to go the comfort route of her outfit rather than the haute couture style that she always plasters her social media profile with which was a nice change to see considering the amount of sponsors she has at her age. She scans the line of cars with the hazard lights on along the lane, immediately bee-lining for yours while you’re leaning against the side with the engine still running and not with the hazard lights on, just to make it easier for her to spot you. 

When she finally stops her footing a few inches before the curb, she lets out this sigh when the handle of her suitcase clicks back in, plopping the duffel bag onto the ground as if she’s making her presence known, you take a quick look around ensuring that she wasn’t trying to make a scene. “Hey,” she calls over. There’s no second thought; you could be fifty feet away and still spot her. 

Julie runs a hand through her hair, chin tilted up slightly when you get onto the sidewalk from the street, signifying the clear difference in height. She’s at your neck, and you’re glad that she stayed around there - you know, just to annoy her. 

Coming off ever-so casually, “Hey.” 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

You lift your eyebrows with one at the highest point you could take on your forehead. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” 

A shake of the head, you’re giddy in an instant second. 

“Seriously?” She starts, pulling out her set of earbuds and her glasses simultaneously, raising an eyebrow before squinting her eyes closely to your face, and all you’re doing is just letting your head fall a few degrees left to keep her second guessing. “There is no way they let you be my personal chauffeur for today.” 

“Well, about that.” you scoff, stepping on the concrete away from the asphalt while also fishing out a folded twenty dollar bill from your pocket. “I was doing some errands for my parents before I got hit with the last minute memo to pick up some girl that’s been too busy with stardom.” 

“What’s the adult dollar for?” Julie asks, fighting the smile terribly while you’re matching the same energy. “Are you tipping for yourself?” 

A pause forms between the two of you, staring, reading into each other’s expressions. The white noise of cars coming occasionally broken with scattered honks across the place. You kinda look stupid with the twenty dollars in between your fingers, but Julie breaks first by looking down, you’re rolling eyes at how simple it’s been after all this time - easing into her, and she does the same. 

She steps forward with swinging arms, capturing you in between them. Julie was always the outgoing one with affection. Growing up, you kinda got sick of her being up all in your space. Now, you’ve come the long way ‘round; her hand lightly grips the back of your neck, you’re shaking her side by side with your arms around her waist, suddenly she’s got a hand to your cheek before she pinches it just to annoy you. One thing for sure: you enjoy the small bubble entrapping you with her, not giving a care for what’s going outside of it. 

“Oh my god?” you tell her breathlessly, half drunk on the sweet scent of her hair, pushing her back slightly to get a second look at her, trying to process how much she’s grown. “You- your hair….”

“I know right?” she acknowledges, tilting her head off to the right while hiding away. “Didn’t think that orange would be my color in the first place and now, I own it.” 

She looks good, and somehow she’s still the same Julie you remember spending a good chunk of your entire childhood with to know that unchanging fact. 

“Long flight?” you ask her, hands on her shoulders with a quick massage. “You know what they say about airport crushes; see them once, and they’re gone the next moment for forever.” 

“No one has ever said that.” Julie laughs, flipping some of her hair over the shoulder, her lone hand lightly underneath your forearm, not letting the faintest clutch of your sweater get to you because it will, and it seems that the personal point still stands, but you remember the conversation with her regarding that all those years ago - unsure if the sting is still present or not, you’ll have to ponder sometime later. “Always the one to say complete nonsense to me and expect to understand it,” she closes the distance with you again, a slightly more prolonged hug, relaxing into your embrace again with a sleepy sigh, “But yes, I’m still tired.” 

“So much for getting lunch.” 

“Oh, we can still get lunch, if you’re paying of course.” She says, pressing both of her index fingers together innocently, dodging your eyes on purpose before you realize what she’s actually doing. 

“Typical of you, Julie.” 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” She replies, shaking her head. Your peripheral view catches a person wearing a neon yellow vest approaching you two, probably coming over to issue a warning that you’re picking up and not parking. Looking in the same direction, she too, takes the hint, realizing that you’re in a slight time crunch and the reunion can take place somewhere else. “Besides, I was always the one to get you lunch after school when you said that you weren’t hungry.” 

“I could just take you straight home,” you say, popping the trunk to put all of her belongings in the back.

“Don’t! I’m kidding, obviously.”

That’s your Julie. 

“Unless you don’t let me pick the place to grab something, then I guess you could take me home then, if it isn’t that much work for you.” She remarks while you’re rounding the car from behind, slotting in the gap to open the door for her before she swaps places with you on the outside and her on the opposite side. 

Regardless of the absence, she’s hit it off with you again like nothing had ever happened, the habits of goodwill when you’re shielding her head from the roof of the door frame and shutting it when she finally sits in. 

It’s like a rerun of old memories coming back. When the whirr of the engine springs to life from the ignition, paired with the dragged out sigh of Julie settling into the passenger seat of your car, leaning the seat all the way back with her feet on the dashboard. She’s also surprised that you kept a few trinkets that she put in the interior, but the main takeaway was the polaroid on the left side of the speedometer. The image wasn’t that big of a deal if you’re looking at the date scribbled with a sharpie, but it’s her lips pressed against your face on the last night before she went away to pursue her own endeavors. As for the gesture itself, Julie laughs it off since the main reason was because she had one too many drinks - which was understandable, to say the least.

(Well, friends have their own ways of showing off their love from a platonic standpoint, so this was just one of those instances; nothing more.)

You and her just talk for what seems like ages, forget with the notion of playing catch-up. She’s only been here for probably less than an hour and half at this point, and you could care less with the traffic on the way to the niche coffee spot where you and Julie have always gone to after school days and study sessions. 

She points out to you that everything is pretty much the same since she left it - like she runs the place - and in a way, it felt like that to you for a while. It’s all in the scattered corner stores, the park with those two stationary bikes that she’d ride just because she’s bored, that one avenue of houses that you and her talked about owning one day if the lottery was won between the two of you. All of these things start coming back to you like stills from an old film camera. 

“I helped get the house redone with flooring and everything,” you tell her, flicking the blinker up and looping right into the parking lot of the cafe. “Figured that it was time to change some things up around there for once.” 

Right when you set the car to park, clicking off the seatbelt and she too does the same; you glance over to the passenger seat while grabbing for your wallet and keys, seeing Julie on her side, head propped up to her hand, a leg tucked to her chest before she nods her head down to let the set of sunglasses fall weirdly on the bridge of her nose, fixing it soon after while softly smiling back. “Anything else that I missed out on that I haven’t heard from the others?” 

You look up, pursing your lips together with a hum, trying to give somewhat of a legitimate answer, “Perhaps one thing: me.” 

Julie stares at you unimpressed, slightly cringing at what was just said while you’re wearing a dumb grin spread across your face. Her chin dips diagonally, insisting silently that you give her a valid explanation, but you don’t. She knows your fair share of flings and failed talking stages, and she’s not far off the cut too; coming to you for advice about how guys operate because you understood well that some of them only think with their fucking crotch and not their brain most of the time. 

She sighs, this time with a light smirk in acceptance. “Fine, I’ll take that to be an acceptable answer.” 

Phone and wallet in one hand, the other opening the door, a turn of the head shields you biting your inner lip, mind slowly falling into the delusional thought of filling the gap in your amygdala of what should’ve been done in the first place. 

Maybe if you had the chance to go back in a time machine to alter the causes, the outcomes might’ve been in a much different space entirely. 

–

Though, it’s worth mentioning that you and Julie have never actually tried dating each other up until she left during junior year. The idea itself wasn’t necessarily tempting, but the lone strings in your heart decided at best that it wouldn’t escalate anything higher than what you already had with her. 

–

Sure. 

Everything comes natural when it’s with Julie. Out of everyone in your small circle of friends, it was you and her that have been tethered together since you two were basically in diapers. She was born a few days before you; in the same hospital, on the same floor. Your mothers already had a tight-knit connection even prior to you and her even stepping in the picture of their lives. Then there’s the special aspect of being a pair since preschool; nearly all the moments were either you and her not too apart from the other. 

You poke a straw through her latte before handing it to her first, only to take the same drink and bring it back around for you to have to take the additional one you bought instead. Everything starts to settle like old times. She’s telling you stories about what she’s doing with her career; nothing short of traveling around the world, giving you the most colorful way of what occurred even if it was the most simplest of things. The brand deals, the collaborations, how she loves what she’s doing. You couldn’t be more proud of her for taking her life by the reins because you and her both agreed that staying here in this town would only hold her back to what she really wants. 

“So,” she starts, placing her phone down after showing her pictures of her recent outing somewhere in Poland. “Remind me what you’re doing again?” 

She’s sitting across from you on the table, leg over the other, hands linked at the knee. Her drink is almost finished, there’s a half eaten croissant while you’re playing back all of the things that might be worth noting. You look up to see that subtle smirk, a hint of her dimples that you’ve probably fantasized about kissing because they’re just there, her pretty cat-like eyes, low and heavy, and her hair just looks amazing to see since the papaya color really suits her well. 

“Well, it’s nothing really worth sharing,” you say, grabbing another sip through the opening of your drink, “This job I got starts in a few weeks, and oh- grad school’s finally done and over with.” Julie nods in excitement, clapping quietly with her fingers while you’re waving a hand up to save the embarrassment. You show her the grad photos and ceremony, and tells you looked good, apologizing for not showing up earlier to be that for your massive accomplishment. 

“Anything else that you’re doing to pass time?” she asks, stealing your drink since she finished hers. 

“I write a little here and there. No big deal.” 

“You do?” 

You shrug, “Kinda, sort of struggling with this one story or idea that’s been rattling my brain for the past couple days now.” 

Julie does the similar action like she did earlier while getting out of the car; that slight lean back with narrow eyes to subject something suspicious. “Is it the kind of writing that I think it is?” 

“Jul, it’s just poems.” you tell her, adjusting your chair closer while she spills a mess of giggles while you snatch back your drink for another sip to keep yourself distracted. “You know that I get lost with reading. It was just that one time that you caught me red-handed.” 

“You’re not at fault for hooking me onto that kind of stuff too.” she replies, fingers bridged together to support her chin with her elbows on the table, “I will say, the mind can create the wildest imaginations.” 

“Have you noticed what you’re doing with those outfits and dances?” 

“Hey, I read those comments every now and then.” Julie takes back your drink to finally finish it, placing the cup off to the side with the half-eaten croissant to open up the table for conversation. “It’s just one way of staying engaged with fans without even interacting with them.” 

That’s the kind of line you drew with Julie: being her supporter while she’s coming into her own. Making a name for herself through her own route of success to being famous, garnering attention by the minute with every post that she makes of herself or with others. You find yourself staring at pictures of her in outrageous outfits a little too long at times, watch the parts of her in videos on loop because she’s radiating with happiness, enjoying what she does. Her voice is distinct for you to pick out, and you’re wondering also: what did the world do to deserve an angel like her for just being the way she is? 

She was a constant in your life, the couple of minutes you set aside in your schedule to see what she’s up to while in school or work - an out reaching thread you’ll dip down to see where she is or what she’s doing. 

Can’t be mad at her for not keeping up with you after all this time anyway. 

“Why did you bring me here?” Julie asks, her tone serious with hands now on her lap. 

Instead of sugarcoating the inquiry, you’re mature enough to the point where some things are best given flat out the first try rather than scaffolding the truth bit by bit. 

–

(It’s a flashpoint in the same spot years ago; the end of one thing, the start of another. Only main difference of this was the seating arrangement: you with your back against the fence and Julie on the opposite end with someone carrying a tray back inside the cafe. 

The receipt was already on the table, empty orders of drinks just waiting to be discarded. It’s sundown, and the inside was already packed with various students cramming in bits and pieces of study guides for that history test they’re all convinced that they’ll fail. Not you, because you’re confident in your academic abilities so why lose sleep over it. 

“I’m finally going forward with this.” Julie tells you, sitting idly while she just went you through the potential plan of her journey to success. Bottom line still stands: she’s going away, and the news still hits you like a deer caught in headlights. She nudges your shin that makes you snap out from your trance off into the distance, “Are you even listening?” 

“I am- I was.” you answer, shaking your head while scratching, because you’re aware of the facts. Julie has been pushing to get herself off with her feet up in the sky, and managed to land a chance to finally make that silly dream of being famous into a reality. It’s been brewing behind the scenes, seeing her pace back and forth between phone calls while having a quick bite before dinner at her place. “So it’s really happening this time.” 

“Yes.” She says, as if the news itself already didn’t tear an opening in your heart from the beginning. Any lingering feeling that was there for her was about to be ripped away from you in the next few days, and there’s not a lot of time left either; so why put in effort to even try and convince her when her mind is already made. 

“Only a matter of time until you’re finally gone.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“You know how I am with things like these.” you tell her, flatly. “The sentiment coming from me feels wrong, but it's your dream and I don’t want to jeopardize that.” 

Julie’s expression softens, meeting your eyes. They’re filled with fading stars while hers are glassy, lip quivering while she reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing the ridges across the wrinkles of your knuckles - how the touch will be an unknown to her, inevitably. 

“You’re not hurting me.” she says, smiling, confessing like it’ll give you some comfort to live with. “You never did.” 

She knows your wavelength better than anyone else besides your parents. Nodding at her reassurance, you put away the one thing that you should’ve said in hiding, since it’s already too late. You don’t even know when she’ll be back let alone have the expectation for things to be the same later, because it won’t be. 

It’s also impossible to satisfy the urge in telling her everything right here and now, put all of your thoughts and feelings on the table with no regrets; it’s there, but you’ve stomached the feeling deep down enough to keep it inside.) 

–

“I mean, this is where we left things,” you tell her, bearing a smile, “why not start right where we left off?” 

–

What’s talked about throughout years is all recapped in the matter of a few hours. You’ve gone around the town in different spots, talking about the notable events that occurred in each and every one of them. There’s a fill-in between different friends and shakeups of relationships and careers that has Julie in shock at the misdirection through the juicy details that never in a million years she would believe had happened. It’s still going, even when you drop by your home to see your parents and their adopted child (figuratively speaking) for a bit before carrying on with the drive to absolutely nowhere with the switch from your car to your mom’s SUV. 

“What’s it about?” Julie asks while you stop at a red light. “Don’t tell me it’s a shitty sob story you’re struggling with.” 

A press on the brakes, maybe a little too hard that slightly sends your body and hers jerking forward. And to that she punches your shoulder while you’re laughing. “For calling my story shitty.” 

You’re reminded of her rudeness with words - letting out all the profane words that she’s been forced to bottle up for so long, letting it slip here and there for comedic relief. But with you, the rules never really applied to her, and you’ll do a limit test of crossing various things off the list, it’ll happen. 

“Still haven’t answered my question.” she reminds you, a pinch to your arm also to let you know that she’s not playing around. You let her get her way, something that you’ve accepted a long time ago. Now with her newfound image, she’ll use that to her advantage that won’t definitely come back to bite her in the ass. 

The glow from the excruciatingly long light catches Julie’s face from the corner of your eye. She raises a brow in suspicion when you look forward out into the open road, endless waves of darkness swallowing up the fading street in the distance. “It’s about past lives.” 

“What.” she snorts, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

(You wave your hand back at her while she giggles, and you say that maybe staying at your house was a better idea than going back into town.) 

“This was exactly what I was talking about,” you tell her, glancing at her side profile, the canvas of her cheeks, her hair in a loose ponytail that she’s twiddling around between her fingers, eyes looking up to the sky above before looking back as an implication to continue. “I found inspiration about this one movie where two friends who’ve been forced apart from each other, only to find their way back in the most cliché way possible.” 

“So original.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Julie lets out a bigger smile, the one where her eyes also mirror the same movement as her lips. “Give me a more indepth version of this when we get to our destination and I’ll reconsider your pitch.” 

As soon as she says that, the light finally turns green, and you gradually press down on the gas pedal. 

–

Here’s what the general consensus doesn't know about you and Julie; an omission of facts, one might say. 

Only a few handful of people among your circle of friends would know of the situation where Julie had convinced you to pose as her fake boyfriend sometime around sophomore year. To be fair, the guy trying to court her during lunch was a bit of an ass when talking to her - being so stuck up and over his own head that made you want to punch the dude, so not even more than five seconds of their interaction was enough for you to shut any sort of speculation down entirely. 

Everyone from the outside looking in would all share the same tune: there would be no way in hell that you’d get past the friends aspect with Julie. 

(But it did happen; in that short time, and even if it wasn’t actually a real relationship with her- well, that didn’t really matter anyway.) 

It’s all over your face. In pictures from different hangouts, videos in school projects, people calling out of you daydreaming during in between classes or breaks, getting in trouble for cutting class just to make sure everything was according to plan (and not because Julie forced you to ditch since you would say yes regardless).  Most guys who were gunning to have their chance turned down by Julie would fall back entirely whenever they see you and her walking together - because they somewhat already knew of the endgame about to occur.  

As for the memory itself, you faintly recall some sort of verbal agreement with her, things to sell the whole act from both parts: hand-holding, the mandatory dates, and all of the other stuff that was easy to fall into since you and her were so comfortable with each other already. The only issue, however, was the projected timetable of how long this fabricated ‘relationship’ was supposed to last. 

“We have everything down,” she tells you, scruffing up the soles of her shoes along the sidewalk one day after a ‘much needed debriefing’ at the park. She’s pulling you by the sleeve - you know, for good practice. “I think we’ll be fine going forward.” 

“You didn’t say how long we’re supposed to keep up this act for.” you say, opening the gate to her front yard and up the steps to the door. “The three month rule exists for a reason.” 

“And you expect me to believe that?” 

“It’s an unspoken requirement.” you reply flatly. 

Julie bats her eyelids at that, getting on the first step of her porch to make herself taller to you, twists her body mirroring yours with hands on both sides of your collarbones. She lifts your face up, thumbs on your cheeks that could pose as teardrops because of how solemn your expression was, and she smirks at the appearance. “You’re nervous.” 

“Nervous?” you ask, face slightly flushed and side-eying her fingers pinching your cheek. “I was just a little hesitant, that’s all.” 

“What’s there to be afraid about?” she asks, stepping closer to the edge where it was natural for you to circle your arms around her waist. Deliberate, but every action with her was just right without having to question yourself if you’re doing what she wants you to do. “I helped you with all of the things that I wanted you to do with me in this relationship.” 

You sigh, “Not all things.” 

Julie looks at you puzzled, head cocked to the side at the unknown mentioned. Knowing her, she’s quick enough to realize what was being implied without having to say it explicitly. Few seconds pass, humming, trying to let those nerve synapses do their work before eventually realizing what was running through your mind. “Ah,” she says, nodding along to your level of thinking. “If you wanted me to say that, then you should’ve.” 

“What were you thinking?” 

“You’re a terrible kisser.” 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” you tease, scanning Julie’s eyes, her pert smile, the subtle lip bite you catch at the last second before hiding the lower half of her face with the oversized sleeve of the sweater. 

It was the last thing that was necessary to do. You’re thinking of the test drive of that from the other day, how you just gave a weak peck of a kiss only to poorly play it off as being ‘not ready’. Julie assures you that it was okay, and you tried it again. 

(The second time was a lot better. And, uh, it still needs more, hm-) 

“If we really want to make this work,” you tell Julie, fingers clasped together behind the small of her back, gravitating her closer to your chest. Her hands are slithering around the back of your head and neck, “Best to have it done properly. No mistakes.” 

Julie nods in agreement, reminded that she was the one who roped you in to do all of this for her. This facade could have some sort of meaning when it’s over, but for the moment you could see on her face that she was relieved. “Right, if you want the part, you have to own it.” 

Her head dips down to yours, sealing the deal with a kiss, smiling at the improvement when you return it fantastically well. She pulls away with half-lidded eyes, and maybe this lip lock was the first of many, time can only share so much. 

“Alright then,” she whispers against your lips, brushing against yours delicately, “that was a whole lot better.”

–

Aside from selling the act from nearly all of your friends, you kept it to yourself that this ‘relationship’ with Julie should’ve been real from the start. Though, you can’t even blame yourself for the idiot you’d become whenever Julie’s steamrolling into your personal space in between classes. If anything, even if they knew the thing was real or fake, they all took the hint of backing off to give you two the respected space whether it was intended to be actually authentic or not. 

Even if you wanted to be discreet - which, more often than not, was the complete opposite -  it did feel like they were invading your guys’s privacy if it was in the halls, in front of the door for her next class or yours, or even at parties to which everyone spread word that you couldn’t stand being a few seconds away from Julie - keeping yourself in close proximity unless she said otherwise. 

(Like you’ve admitted; you’re an idiot for letting yourself be this way for Julie. You can't really help yourself when she’s so forward with wrapping arms all over, keeping herself magnetized with you before her going away was even in the picture. Laughing about silly things that others from the outside could never really comprehend what you and Julie talk about. Having conversations with her was incredibly easy; that, and along the hands on hands or hands on legs or arm on shoulder. Then there’s the loving gaze you’d give her - staring shamelessly and blatantly doing it with no problem at all as if it was the last few seconds you’d ever have, and it would be everything.

So. The ‘act.’)

Sometimes you’d completely forget the whole purpose as to why you’re even doing this thing with her in the first place, since it felt so natural. It’s typical for a high school romance, kissing with a reason behind it or without having one at all. 

You’d do it to punctuate something, convince her to consider otherwise, lower your eyes and tilt your head, slot your lips with hers. If you were with anyone else besides her in this scenario; it would have the same effect, but wouldn’t hit your heart as hard as you wanted to. Julie would stare at you, nodding, understanding, having known that this cosmic binding was meant to stay that could transcend time itself - linking pinkies together, as an extension of your hearts being hitched together. 

When she finally called the verbal agreement of the fake relationship off, you were certain that things would still stay the same between you two; which it did, of course, but she was open about the loving intentions you had for her, regardless if there was a label to it. 

(You and her would hide away from others after that, still, just because the company with each other was better compared to your friends - no disrespect to them, of course. And all of those times of doing that - well, you made it known how you really felt about Julie without saying it. The kissing was there as a plus, remember?)

–

The point still stands: you remember all of it. You expected Julie to be the same; hoping to shield the feeling of her leaving with every intent as possible until the clock would eventually reach zero. It was never a part of the conversation, but the weight hung heavy even if you or her mentioned was coming to pass. 

You’ve learned to drop such expectations - much like taking things with a very small grain of salt, because any solid assumption would only lead to thoughts that would only crumble you from the inside out. The more blanks you have, the better. 

Delusion might be one thing, blindly falling in love was a shot in the dark to your own admission, but that silly idea of ‘she fell first, he fell harder?’; come to think of it, it might’ve been put in writing long ago and it all circles back without any single warning at all. 

This is what people realize about Julie, and you were the first person to know of this: she always breaks through other’s expectations. 

She’s an ever changing current of some form that could only be described as groundbreaking. Pushing boundaries of standards to new horizons. A highlight that was destined to shine brighter given the right tools and exposure to let her do that one simple thing that she’s good at, being herself. 

Miles ahead of everyone, never wanting to look back. And there’s you, falling slightly behind from her, on purpose - because watching her take on the world was something that you could handle for as long as you lived in the same space with her. Distant, but not far. The small thread of imaginary rope in your head clinching onto the fact that she’ll see you for you, and maybe the labels could all be sorted out in due time.

“And here we were,” she begins, arms out to the sides like gliding on air. She’s in your varsity jacket, in trade for the unfinished ice cream in your left hand, nursing it for yourself while she’s elevating herself on planters or benches; anything to bring joy with the simple things no matter how silly it was. “Feels so good to finally be home for a quick minute.” 

It’s a little bit late, the light posts are on, wind gusting through the small park where you’ve shared countless memories when you and Julie were kids. Everything around the place is timeless, only replaced with a few renovations scattered here and there around the area, but still the same. She’s alongside the railing, the other side a calm river housing scattered sounds of crickets and cicadas. 

On the opposite end, was your mom’s SUV with the back parked in. Some fine luck that they made a space to be near that big old tree with enough branches and leaves to serve as shade when the sun hits the highest point in the sky. Despite the darkness, you liked it compared to the daytime, whereas Julie was the inverse. 

“Does anyone know?” You stop short when she turns around, hands pocketed in that lent jacket. “You, being here. On vacation if this was your plan for a while now.” 

“Well yeah,” she responds, approaching closer with her mouth open while you spoon feed her another bite of butterscotch from the small cup, pulling lips inward to clean any remains of the desert. “Sure, I could’ve gone anywhere else to have time off, but I chose to come here. Decided that it would be a good thing to come and see everyone after so long.” 

You nod at that, admiring the reason. Hiding that small tug in your heart that should be small enough to not notice. 

Julie knows you better than yourself sometimes, and she can see from your eyes that you’re trying to go beyond what's being said. 

She steps forward, because she can, and you’re not against that. This is where she thrived back then: doing everything to make you uncomfortable. And yeah, it was very simple for her to do back then in high school; the little gesture she does with her shoulders and scrunching face to let you know that she’s won. Putting up with her antics was one thing, but it was nothing that you can’t handle - practicing all of the little tricks and quirks to perfection in the hopes of holding your own if it ever happened again, just like now. 

“Look at you,” you chuckle, “always on some form of borrowed time.” 

She steps closer, hand out to guide yours with the empty cup of ice cream, setting it on the stone adjacent from you two. 

You’re not sure who’s really in control of who in this current moment. All of this was led on from the continuation of bouncing stories between your work life and hers, the details of people in your corporate circle commensurating a string of complaints and drama that you’re not all invested in, but kept an open pair of ears for them just out of the goodness of your solid gold heart. Julie also spills her fair share of things that she’s done, telling all with that maddening grin of hers, the way her cheeks elevate at the pull of her lips, how her eyes draw this curve that hides the irises while you could see the gums beyond her teeth. The low glow of the light post casts this in bronze, the timeless features you’ve seen countless times, in all of its glory. 

“Do you remember,” she prompts, closing the distance once more with her chest slightly puffed up, shoulders rounded back and relaxed, hands still in the pockets of your jacket she’s borrowing. “About that time where we posed as a fake couple back in high school?” 

“All because you couldn’t take the fact that everyone wanted you back then?” 

“Maybe say it a little better than that,” Julie muses, nudging your elbow to keep on teasing, “You’re within the ballpark, however.” 

“Right.” 

Julie smirks, mixing a noise between a soft laugh and sigh, looking up dutifully with those doe eyes. “God,” she says, studying your stoic expression, “even now, you’re still the same after all we did.” 

This might be a double-edged sword of words, a back-handed compliment if you’re going to dissect the linguistic skeleton. That old rhyme of ‘stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’, has never been more true than now. You remain unfazed, smirking, staring. The wind suddenly picks up where it sweeps Julie’s stray strands of hair in front of her face. 

You can’t help but giggle at the way she leans down with a small squeal, hands covering the top of her head to prevent any mess caused by the natural course of nature. Helping her stand up straight, your fingertips sweep those tousled strands, smoothening them to eventually make it look more presentable, not giving any care with how your hands are cupping her face. 

Her question pops up in your head again: about how all of this seems familiar. Feeling the small pull of tension in the air when you gaze into her eyes again - filled with a longing that was tucked away, radiating with sparkles that shouldn’t even look real, but they are. You’re trying to think, and yet, “Maybe. You could be right. And you being here with me like this tells me exactly everything that I need to know.” 

“Really.” Julie coos, dimples deepening, “Would you like to elaborate on this?” 

“I think you can explain that a whole lot better than me.” 

She nods her head, raising a hint of suspicion with an eyebrow, “You think?” 

“I know,” you respond. Guilty as charged, she played you this entire time, and somewhere along the lines of accepting it the best way, “Well, you know too.” 

Thousands of miles apart, decimating that to the single digits, now being mere inches apart - closing in like before; and maybe you were just falling into an old habit the way you pull her face towards yours. Something like this takes practice, could honestly come off as a natural action at this moment: you kissing her, like it was meant to happen. You could never forget all the times she made you feel like this. Only difference is, she’s slipping through the cracks along with you. 

Julie tugs herself closer to you, trying to mend her body into yours; becoming one. She’s ballooning more into the press of your lips before shying away, shrinking, hands moving from your elbows straight up to the nape of your neck. One of your hands snake to the smallest point of her back, holding her curving spine steady, not letting up the exchange of her intoxicating air passing through your mouth and nose - it only has you feening for more. 

And she hums this sound, low and deep, firing impulses within you that will take nearly every bit of brainpower left to resist. 

“Juls,” you murmur softly, pulling away for a slight second, feeling the clutch of her hands around the fabric of your sweater-

All of that attention is zeroed in on this transcendent sound that she makes, sealing it with your lips again, all needy and deprived and in desperate want that would literally kill you on the spot. She’s willing to take you away, devour every bit because she will, and you’d be okay with that. 

“You have–” she gasps, “no idea.” Dear Lord, she’s breaking by the instant - pulling herself back with your fingers tangled in her hair. The moonlight towering over illuminates this glow on her skin, basking in it while you’re giving her this same look of endearment that you’ve had for most of your life. You might be deserving of it, she could say otherwise; maybe it’s one of fate’s tricks blessing you for once. 

“You do remember.” Playing into Julie’s mind game, falling into the sinking temptation that she’s unknowingly doing over you. It feels tense, but at the same time it doesn’t. “And here I was beginning to wonder if you’d forget everything–” 

“Trust me,” she tells you, hand ghosting over the length of your collarbone while yours reels her small body closer. By the neck, she pulls you to close the distance. “My memory is just as good as yours.” 

(Oh, and it’s how you’re reminded again and again: at how Julie is one half of your brain - a perfect compliment to you for so many years. No one even comes close, and some have tried; they could never get you like she does.) 

“I want you,” Julie’s soft voice twists your ears right back. “Fuck, I’m only gonna say this one more time: I need you.” 

You probably don’t recall the number of things you dreamed of hearing, but this might be one of them. It’s not a question or an answer, nor a quote said intrusively. If anything, this was the green light you’ve been waiting for; there’s just only one thing left to do then. 

–

Forgetting Julie was always going to be an impossibility. 

When a girl like her has her face in literally everywhere that you could imagine: in photoshoots, brand events, social media engagements; the magic of being famous really transforms one’s landscape if they can break the threshold - which she has, and in one way or another - she could never hide away from the bright lights. 

Except at a time like this, you’re glad the darkness envelops both of you. 

“Mmph.” 

Your vision is focusing in blanks, searching for something, fixated on the silhouette of your hand floating over Julie’s head, slowly bobbing down along your length, lips wrapped tight around your cock and her tongue sweeping the grooves along the underside; the ligaments at the knees are way past the possible bending point where you could take them, hips forward while this girl is laid flat on her stomach with the trunk open, and you’re also thinking: who in the actual fuck would be out walking this late in the night to see this form of public indecency? She stops halfway, shakes her head side-to-side, coaxing the head on both sides of her inner cheeks, humming with every intent of praise at how good your cock tastes in her mouth. 

“Fuck,” you rasp, letting your head fall slack backwards, smoothening Julie’s silky hair when she pulls back up, teeth grazing the tip that has you let out a pathetic groan. “You’re so good at that.” 

“Mmmmh.” 

The pop she makes off the head is sinister, and you’re already imagining the smile she has spread across her lips, swiping her tongue across to make them more wet than it already is. She’s giving you a hard time to think straight, and you’re still blown away with how forward she was into blowing you, not wanting to waste a minute before you and her could even make it back to the house. 

“How are you holding up?” She asks innocently, seeing the hint of her honey amber eyes dart at you while her wrist is giving a wandering tug up the length, tensing up every fiber in your lower back to keep it there. 

“Do you really want me to give you an answer?” And Julie chuckles at the flex of your thigh when she runs her fingernails over it. 

Julie then gets back right to work, enveloping your cock into that sweltering heat of her mouth, coaxing it in all the ways you’ve fantasized before - grunting and exhaling spells of air when she dives down deep, deeper, massaging the head with her slick throat - all the way before putting a ring with her thumb and index finger at the base, practically purring at the constant rhythm she’s doing on you, to get you undone. 

Your stomach does this funny little twitch, like a punch to the gut once her hand finally gets to dance along the shaft, stroking along the slick surface while her mouth services a fresh supply of wetness swirling all over. She hums in approval when you take matters into your own hands, wrapping two fingers across the bottom of your cock while she’s happily bobbing her head along the length, picking up a consistent rhythm of spit and dribbles coming out of her mouth, pushing you towards that breaking point, sliding her plump lips across the tip before swirling back in, hollowed cheeks, your eyes slightly rolling back, vision swimming, hunting for a way to stay conscious. 

And the only subjective thing you’re inclined to do, not like there’s any other option for anything else, is to just let her have it. You’ll cum for her, all over her pretty face, and have her slip your cock back into her mouth to make you cum again in a few minutes flat. She knows that it feels good for you, there’s no doubt about it; how you can see her eyes with the occasional glow of your phone going off to break light, glaring at you with every intent of swallowing you. 

“Paint my face baby.” Julie whispers. It’s not a proposition, she wants it to be set in existence, “your cock is so pent up for me, all you have to do is just let go.” 

“Christ-” 

That’s what pretty much sets you off. 

Your shaft is molten around your hand, cockhead pressed agasint Julie’s perfect lips, hips jolting in quick pulses; you also might’ve heard your kneecaps crack a bit in the dead silence, three thick threads of cum landing on the curves of her cheeks, hearing her hum in content. Her mouth opens to let the next few shots of release settle into their new warm home, head wrapped around that opening, riding out the last bits of sensation as you’re draining everything all over her face and in her mouth. The overhanging light for the trunk switches on with what remains of your spent energy, catching that smug grin when she’s resting your cock on her cheek, parting lips open with a small dribble of cum leaking from the slit still, to which she licks with her tongue on the underside while having her eyes still trained on you. She’s all blissed out, irises focusing and unfocusing - almost cross-eyed; and just like before, you’re captured around her little spell once again. 

A few seconds later and she’s wiping the damage from her face, licking it up from her fingers - fondly taking in the sweetness of your cum on her tongue while feeling out her jaw again, trying to internalize the feeling of your dick filling her slutty little mouth. She won’t forget it, and neither will you. 

“You taste good,” she mumbles after getting up on her knees, ducking slightly so that her head doesn’t hit the roof of the car, “y’know, if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” 

“Decorum, Julie.” You tell her, straightening your legs out for what felt like an eternity. “Thanks,” you follow up, “I do try my best with my own things.” 

Julie lets out a snort, wiping her lips with any lasting remains of her drool mixed with your cum, “Jackass. Always so stuck up for being an ass.” 

“You just said ass in the same sentence twice,” you comment, propping yourself on elbows to where Julie leans down across the width of your chest, towering over you. 

She leans lower while your head bumps the backseat, face nearly centimeters away from yours, hearing and feeling the needy breath against your lips when your hand skates up her waist, teasing with a fingertip before you lightly clutch her back, allowing her to fall down and kiss you. 

She’s not far away from you now, but instead right here in your arms. This is progress; good progress and maybe even better. You can barely see the hickeys along the column of her throat in the darkness - something that you’ll revisit to make her revel in the feeling of your mouth over them, a get back of sorts in trade for giving what she wants. 

“I hate how you’re such a smartass.” Juile tells you while pulling away. But hey, at least she’s saying that with a smile. 

–

The whole town gets slapped with inclement weather throughout the week. 

And yeah, you’re pretty much giving your phone screen or laptop or even the television that no one really uses around the house a dirty look when you see the consistent set of numbers with the picture of a few clouds mixed with rain at the bottom of them. Though, it doesn’t really make sense for it to rain when the weather was nice for once up till now. The percentages of rainfall were particularly high, especially around this time of year which typically means: hey man, it would be best to just stay inside, maybe catch up on some of those books you’ve been putting off for quite a while because of school. You could also use this ample time to finally get that story also, get some words in while the thoughts are fresh, or something like that. A third option would be calling Julie, since as it turns out, her parents are gone - which also means she’s home alone, and whatever you do with that piece of information is entirely up to you. So what’s it gonna be? Besides, you still need answers as to what your current dilemma is with her relationship-wise, and ignoring the fact that she feels the same way should be ringing alarms in your head as it is. 

You could curse your mom or bless her, because she gave you a favor to do by going to her house to drop a few things off. 

One worrying drive later in the wet darkness, and a well managed job to beat the unrelenting rain before it got worse, you’re at her doorstep knocking. The steady thrums of the droplets hitting the roof before the knob clicks and the hinges creak open. She lets you in with no hesitation, patting your wet hair while you’re tending your soaked jacket to the coat hanger. 

“Didn’t your mom say that it was a good idea to wait until this storm lets up?” Julie asks, walking ahead to the living room while carrying one of two bags that you brought over, contents being various snacks and clothes that you were willing to give to her since you hardly ever wore them. “Thanks for bringing my favorites for me,” she beams happily, “I haven't had these in a long while.” 

“Managed to get them a day before today,” you tell her, trailing along her pathing where the space in the house opens up more. “I thought the forecast said less than 40% of rain would come.” 

“You still believe in what they say on the news?” 

“Not all the time, but it’s good to stay informed.” 

Julie steps away into the kitchen while you plop down on the couch, leaning your head back on the cushion while the sound of plastic rustling fills your ears. Few moments later, she comes back with a sizable bowl of pretzels, placing it on the table before she goes and gets two bottles of water; which you scoff at first but appreciate the simplicity of maintaining a healthy diet. 

You and her pick up right where you left off. Talking about anything and everything that was worth it in terms of interesting topics. The television has one of those random sitcoms provided on the streaming service after trying to search for one for about five minutes or so, feeding each other occasionally while trying to hold in laughs while staring at each other. 

“How long have you had that color?” Gesturing with a head pat to yourself while Julie downs the lasting remnants of what’s in her cup. She gives you this gaze with the clack of the glass on the table, leveling her gaze with you - the low glow from the tv serving as the prominent source of light, catching the smallest sweep of her hair right at the ends, tilting her head to match yours in curiosity. 

“For about a month. And honestly,” she breathes, “I was pretty skeptical about choosing this color in the first place,” she adds, pulling her knees closer to her chest, “but I guess you could say that I was convinced to try it out.” 

You purse your lips, reaching over the the near empty bowl of crackers while Julie is holding in a laugh, offering the other half to her with an outreaching hand - to which she leans over with an open mouth, happily receiving the remains on her mouth while you’re alternating glances from the screen to her. 

“By the way, my parents actually just went out to visit my grandparents,” she adds, realizing that shere was a missing set of keys from the pot where you set yours past the front door; not to mention the two vacant spots on the shoe rack where they would usually be. “So I guess it’s just us alone here if the storm doesn’t let up.” 

And by some comedic timing, you get a text on your phone. Basically it just says from your mom to stay over at Julie’s for the night, after getting news of the road being unsafe to drive with the rain as the cause of one or two accidents already. 

(You might consider yourself lucky; but what good would that serve since you’ve already put yourself miles ahead of the competition in getting with Julie?) 

“If this is some form of good news,” you tell her, showing the message bubble from the phone screen, to which she unleashes this gummy smile, understanding by that cosmic connection you two have built together that doesn’t really need a logical explanation. “I think you’re in good company for tonight at least.” 

Julie then leans forward. No- she launches herself at you while you and her were sitting along the bottom of the couch, playing along by letting her weight collapse on top. You pay no attention to how her arms hook around your neck, but you do focus on the press of her lips to your cheek; it’s honestly worth sharing a laugh at her nestling into the groove along your neck and collarbone, patting her back to let her know that you’re also happy with staying. 

There’s this odd silence, to where she pulls away. You could also hear the faint sound of whatever sitcom was on the screen to provide a calm ambience. It’s appalling to how beautiful she looks without any makeup on, hand mindlessly clutching onto her oversized sweater to where she tenses up on impulse - almost unsure at first, only to grab your wrist soon after. 

“I’ve been wondering,” she prompts, face upright while you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “how come you and I never made anything official between us?” 

“What do you mean?” you blindly ask. “I thought I made myself obvious enough about how I feel about you.” 

“You were,” she responds, inching her body closer towards yours. “Though, it hasn’t crossed my mind before recently, when we–”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“You’re not weirded out about it?” 

Anything that you say from this point on would only solidify your case. You’ve always wanted the idea of Juile being all to yourself, despite her being big enough for everyone else to get a wanting chance at her too. This realization came to you on a random day, probably, when you’re just going along with your day before you suddenly dropped whatever you were doing - staring off into the distance because at the end of it: you’ve fucked yourself head over heels for her from the start. 

“I wanted-” your words get caught up behind the tongue while Juile’s fingers are branching out to your shirt. 

“You sound unsure about something.” Her voice is laced with mischief, teasing. 

“-to talk about last time, and even if we do bring it up, you know- us,” you add with a raised hand with hers, “I just hope that it’s not a one time thing.” 

“It’s not.” she tells you, face pouting with scrunched brows. “You worry too much sometimes, even back in high school, you were always like that.” 

She’s not wrong, but also, she’s right for calling you out. 

“I could just leave right now if it makes you feel better.” You start to stand up from the floor, only to be stopped by Julie’s tighter grip on your hand, causing you to freeze for a moment. 

“I’m just glad,” her shoulders rise and fall with the pressure mounted on top of them finally lifted from whatever was plaguing her, “That after all this time: you still stayed for me.” 

It’s just like that other time, and you’re catching her train of thought faster than the words can come out of her mouth. This wasn’t something to think twice about - if you don’t take the second golden chance fallen at your lap, it’ll be a lasting regret filling the back of your mind once she goes back to the world that she created for herself. 

“You know.” She tells you, with that endearing grin of hers, filled with so much of everything that has you fractured from within, because she doesn't need to say anything else. “You know all too well for me anyway.” 

A hesitating shuffle of your butt across the hardwood, you’re scooching closer to her, lowering eyelids, hand trailed to the nape of Julie’s neck until you and her make ends meet. In an instant, she’s suddenly reformed into this being of wanting, need, someone who will let you have their way over them. 

She pulls away panting, you give her another kiss to the jaw. “Funny, how the tables have turned.” You tell her, twisting your head to the opposite end before she meets your lips again - this time a little more hectic, hands grasping along the fabric of your shirt, almost peeling it off at the first go. 

“C’mon now,” says Juile, hand underneath to your stomach before trailing down to the waistband of your pants, “Don’t make me change my mind like last time.” 

–

Here’s a silly thing: upon arriving, Julie suggested that it would be a good idea for you to sleep in her room (and in this case, it has happened before; way too many times to be exact, gossiping about nonsense or cramming material at the last minute the night before a big test. Another funny memory to recall.) She teases that it’s nothing for you to be worried about, and it's not like you were going anywhere else for tonight. 

Instead, you insisted on using the guest room that she has, but here’s the funny part; you and her don’t actually make it back up to her bedroom anyway. 

The harmony of a laugh she lets out when you slip your shirt off of your frame, catching her staring for a few seconds too long - biting her lip and some of her index finger, she can’t help but be in awe. A new, fit, and refined look that replaces the scrawny and nimble image that you somewhat hated for the longest time - towering over her on the cushions of the couch, helping her slide out of that oversized shirt to see a white sports bra - sweatpants soon after with a matching set. You’re nicking your head to the side in disbelief, eyes overloaded with the image straight out of your fantasies - only this time now to be all too real. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, unable to blink while you get a hand on her hips, off to the right where there’s a small tattoo - an anchor, grazing your thumb over to see if that was also another secret she kept from you (from everyone, for that matter) - there’s also her impossibly slim waist, her luscious thighs, the definite line down the middle where her abs are at. This could be another win in your year of success, and then again, no one else but you gets to see her like this. 

“Got something to say?” Julie asks, smirking with her head slightly tilted back, up on elbows, “They do say that girls are breathtakingly beautiful wearing white.” 

A click of your tongue, not willing to argue with that take, because she’s right. It’s within the lines of superiority, giving someone the respect that they deserve. She could have it, but she also likes it when you don’t even think of giving her that kind of luxury. “My mouth has a lot more things to say than just words,” you tell her, the pair of hands sliding up to the tight elastic resting underneath her breasts. 

“Care to share what you’ll do to me?” 

You get rid of that annoying sports bra, for starters - hands filling up with the supple size of her breasts, fast to wrap around her upper back while you’re peppering the new territory with kisses all over, her head falling back even more to open up and let you ravage and mark and the tens of other things that you’ll get your chance on, eventually. 

She’s heaving with shaky breaths, not wanting your lips to leave her body the more you indulge in her perfect skin. Nails are quick to dig into your back, slightly, and it’ll just add on from there. The levels of touching, holding, kissing, and the anticipatory downright fucking you’ll give her soon enough-

“Am I on the right track for you so far?” you ask, quick to get your lips on hers while she’s shrinking into a whimpering mess into the couch. 

Julie has managed her good graces for so long now, and you’ve played the waiting game. No matter how long it took, it might be a gamble with your feelings for not being able to move on - it was possible then, but as of this moment, you already made your decision. 

“You’re the fucking worst,” she pants, a loosely planted hand that slides off when there’s the press of your thigh against her clothed pussy, feeling her legs sandwich you in between to prolong the wanting feeling. “I’ve been wanting- waiting for so long.” 

“Really now?” you say, voice filled with heat when you help her slide out of her sporty bottoms, finally cutting the last line of caution tape. A quick look down - and her cunt is there, in all of its glory - slightly glistening at the lips and primed for what’s to come. You’re surprised at how wet she is, even more surprised when she grabs your wrist to get your fingers alongside her aching slit; a small hiss of air passing through her teeth inward while you're spreading her little by little. “We’re a little ahead here aren’t we?” 

“Fuck- please,” Julie spits out, eyes scrunching shut while you press a finger in to asses, and she’s practically liquid down there. She’s acting completely different from earlier - failing terribly to keep composure - but she’s just as infectious as she always is. “You don’t think I know the amount of times you’ve yanked one out while thinking of me? Believe me, I know.” 

“I didn’t say anything about it.” you reply, thumb lightly pressing against her clit while your middle finger curls a bit inside her, feeling her hips shoot upward off the cushion. You’re also doing everything in resisting the urge in the growing bulge in your pants, to ignore how badly it’s throbbing for you to snap and get yourself acting exactly how she wants to fuck till one of you goes dumb; cock drunk or pussy drunk, it’ll end in those one or two ways. “But it’s true: I want you also.” 

Julie just mewls at your fingers, clenching around them, that forces a soft chuckle out of you. This was the first time that she’s losing her patience, and you’re going to milk the hell out of this moment for as long as you can. 

“Don’t be-” she’s rambling with an open mouth, blinking fast, “Don’t be a bitch. Everyone knows that I wanted you for so fucking long.” 

Well what do ya know? She would be the one to cut the wire and jump on the grenade between the both of you in confessing. There are very little things kept secret with her, some things you might’ve forgotten along the way, but you’ll keep this in your mind for as long as you live. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, pressing your lips together while you slide your fingers out of her, the squelching sound vile for your ears to register. Hands are quick to meet her hips, scooching closer with a pull, to where her ass meets the top of your thighs. “Yeah.” 

“Need it,” she pleads, “Need your cock inside of me.”

You’ve managed to get your sweats off in record time, pressing her legs up to where her heels are facing the ceiling. These feelings from embers that were supposed to die out years ago, but they never did, and this dirty act serves as a testament of everything you’ll put out on the table - for her. It’ll be shown in her swollen lips, the trail of hickeys scattered across her body, down to the crimson marks from your hands holding on for too long. Consider this a long shot in a stroke of luck - because no one will know her like you do. 

And when you’re doing this steady approach of rubbing the head of your cock, against her aching cunt, waiting to be filled - you don’t even think twice about it at all. There’s this relief, washing over; almost in reverence to being dipped in holy water through the baptism ritual, feeling her walls slide all over the length of your cock. There’s also this shared ache, the mirrored rise of both your chest and shoulders. Once the ache finally subsides, you just stay inside her for a second. 

“You–” and albeit you’re at a loss of words also; Julie’s face writhes, grasping for both of your hands secured past the middle, keeping her in place. The limitless amount of things that you’ll get your way in: mouth fast to her neck? You’ll do it. Pin her against the armrest of the couch with her ass up, or maybe have her do the work in bouncing back, and she will. Managing your cock fully inside her tight hole was good to settle with for now, “This fucking cunt, Juls–” 

She sucks her stomach in, mouth now slackened, the utterances and noises that she unleashes would never hold up in an interview if they gave her the opportunity to speak her mind as she pleases. But she’s not caught up in the city and it’s stars; instead, she’s with you, on her couch, in her house, taking your- “Baby,” it’s really sweet how she keeps up with the pet name, “fuck, fuck, fuck- I can’t with your- your cock is - that’s so deep, holy fucking shit-” 

You’re pretty much slightly drunk at how well she wraps around your cock, crying without fail. The octaves rising up with every hit back in, and she’s absolutely knocked. It won’t stop with the wash of rain hitting the window panes, feeling the rising heat between you two grow gradually larger, fixated on the extremely tight vice she has over you, and you’ll take that as a gift. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” your voice drags lowly, upping the ante the more you carve your cock into her, the tight hotness becoming more and more addicting by the minute. Julie was always an advocate for showing confidence in her looks, and it shows: in her pictures, the way she flaunts around that has everyone’s jaws dropped to the floor, all angles and good sides of her - behind closed doors, you’ll make sure that no one will see this version of her. 

(And in a way, you do get it, you’ve understood the script written in your head now that you finally have the feelings fully reciprocated, and claiming this girl as yours would only be the start of it.) 

When you’ve finally pushed her over, screaming, that’s the only cue you’ll ever need to keep breaking her. 

“Please, please, please-” 

“Tell me all about it, hm?”

Julie grins with her eyes squinting barely open, gasping out some form of a declaration. 

“You’re, fuck- fuck me,” the air between you clashes with the contrast of warmth from the bodies - the coolness of the air conditioning filling the room, only for it to be backdrafted. Her flawless face is amazing to look at, leaning up for you to dip down and kiss her, hands still fast to her hips, her back arches with a slight lean back, trying to keep the motion going with every stroke and grind and touch you have over her. She’s getting close, you can feel it in the addicting clench, and you’re almost at your wit’s end. 

“Needed me for so long, hmm?” you ask, smiling against the hot surface of her porcelain features, “then cum baby, all over this dick. I know you want to.” 

She mumbles, something close to a string of ‘yeses’, and her whole body trembles. 

It’s filthy, gross, impure, sloppy, pushing deep; angling past the trench to a euphoric feeling that she’ll only demand from you. The way that your hips slap against the bottom of her thighs, grasping her hips and across the supple skin the more you fuck through her orgasm. In some way, this was your get back for what she did to you in the back of the SUV that night, needing little to no words to punctuate the lovely sounds of her hitching breaths with every stroke back into her wet, tight cunt. Her grip on your wrists goes deathly, clenching you the same way her pussy does on your cock, and she’s still stuttering - the whimpers and whines the only serviceable words she can only speak while you groan in slamming her deeper into the couch. 

There’s really no room for a margin of error, every drive back into her only gets you closer to that edge, and while she’s reduced to nothing less but a piliant puddle of mush from the head down, you unbury yourself, fist wrapped around the length of your shaft when you finally release your hot, sticky load all over the fine canvas of her midriff. Covering her - over her chest and waist, all fucked out silly and just laid out to immerse in the ropes of cum spread out across, soaking her. 

“You- you,” Julie sputters out, while you have a hand off to the left side of her head, barely supporting yourself with what little energy left in not toppling over her nimble body. “Oh my god. Oh my god?” 

You’re still riding on that high, finally letting your body go slack when you meet her lips again. She moans in content, how her tongue clashes against yours, trying to power its way through into your mouth. Pulling on the bottom of her swollen lip, just to be a tease, “Julie,” you mumble, breath grazing against her cheek, smiling. That same lip wobbles a bit, an implication that she’s still processing what just happened, aside from the shaky breaths and unfocused eyes. “Baby.” 

A lazy smile brightens up her whole image. Her eyes are fluttered shut, but her lips and the faintest tip of her ears tell a different tale entirely. It’s the same smile you fell in love with since seeing it the first time, it never gets old. 

“I love it when you say ‘baby’,” she starts with a soft tone, gentle, tender. “You have no idea how bad my head spins when you say those things to me.” 

Through the small pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window panes and the roof tiles, you think to yourself at how this moment should never end. The present moment like now will be ingrained into your brain for as long as you’ll move on with living. “I think.” you say with a whisper, laying your body over her - kissing her cheeks, her forehead, feeling her hands slide up the well defined muscles on your back. She tries to hide away, putting her head off to the side, and you’ll get the top of her neck too. Anything for her to finally have you, it’ll be a fair transaction. “I do.” 

“Tell me more?” 

“I’m just glad you didn’t forget about the many things that I’ve already put myself out for you.” you tell her, and she nods in agreement. The interlink between you two has never been stronger than ever, and this moment will just solidify it. 

–

You’re scouring through the fridge and cupboards for something substantial to satisfy your spontaneous midnight cravings. There’s actually a load of different options; a wide variety of chips and snacks in the pantry. In terms of drinks, not much for you to work with - and a glass of water or milk would be good enough to take since it wouldn’t be much longer until you’ll eventually fall asleep. 

Unless you're Julie, who’s standing next to you in the kitchen while you’re assessing her foods (still naked along with you, by the way), licking off some of your cum off her stomach slowly, a stray finger trailing up your waist since some of it did get on you as well. 

It also doesn’t help how she’s sucking on her fingers shamelessly - hollowing her cheeks, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue that will only put your head in a downward spiral. She’s massively fucked for doing that, with those cat-like eyes she has - but dude, you’re still staring at her. 

“Can you like-” you nick your head off to the side, diverting your attention away from her to lock on the same open bag of half-full pretzels she put in the bowl when you first came in, deciding to settle with that but pulling it out onto the edge of the counter. “Do you really have to do that in front of me?” 

“Doing what?” she asks you innocently, almost stupidly. She’s wetting her bottom lip, and man is she evil for doing that continuously. “It’s not my fault that you came so much. My pussy is just that amazing for you.” 

Oh, fuck her. Seriously. 

She’s back to her chirpy, bubbly vibe with that tone in her voice, the witty remarks also came back in full force. Your brain is probably in overload mode with how she’s blinking sweetly, smiling all knowingly like she usually does. It’s a longshot that you’ll draw this up to be a one-time thing, let alone be a golden chance done by your work single-handedly. Within these walls and as long as she’s with you, everything about it just feels right in its place. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you breathe, closing the door to the fridge with a quarter-full bottle of orange juice, Julie getting ahead with two empty glasses ready on the counter. Everything that she does even if it’s the simplest of tasks is undeniably attractive for some reason; no matter if it’s her on the balls of her feet, reaching the cupboard or walking past you with the sway in her hips, one thing does settle back into your mind: she’s here, and that’s pretty much all that matters at this point. “I should give you a napkin to wipe off the stains on your abs.” 

“Or I could just keep on licking it off while you pour me a glass.” She muses, tilting her head up while you kiss the crown of her head, pulling a few lazy strands of hair to the side, “Why did it take us forever to finally do that? I mean, and here I thought that you would be a little more underwhelming with your moves in bed.” 

“You mean the couch, Juls. C’mon. Let me remind you that you’re the one who went and kissed me first.” 

“And the things that you said about dreaming to fuck me actually came true,” she laughs, lightly clinking the rim of her glass with yours before sharing a nice, homey drink together. “All of those jokes about you and the guys wanting a chance with me, well guess what, you’re the winning contestant that blew away the competition.” 

Side-eyeing her, you press your back to the fridge, she’s standing on the opposite end, legs crossed together - mirroring your posture, she’ll match whatever energy you give her, knowing that you’ll always do the same. This could be some silly pairing of toothbrush to toothpaste, and despite the difference in lifestyles, how your lines of successes came at different times, it seems that the parallel line you drew between you and her long ago finally reached a crossroads, which is a good thing, of course. 

“The girls also said the same thing,” she tells you, “about how out of everyone in our circle of friends, it was somehow going to end up with us being together.” 

You take that with a grain of salt, unsure if what she was saying was true or not. But she knows that she’s right; you took the realization first before she did - since she’s usually stubborn in some cases and won’t listen until it finally hits her, but it took her long enough. All of those rumors back in school and the whole skit of you posing with her may be a tipping point, but after putting yourself through that with her, a part in your head was always confident that she’d see what you’re seeing. 

“Maybe they saw it first before you did,” you say, pulling her by the arm and into your space, feeling her arms circle around your waist while you’re rubbing her shoulder. “I’ve always been like this.” 

“You got there first,” she replies coyly, tilting your head down for another meaningful kiss, “Blame me for being oblivious.” 

–

Turns out that Julie’s parents came back to the house first thing in the morning. Well, they’re pretty relieved that you came over and stayed the night even with the weather going absolutely crazy over the past few hours, telling you about how one of the old trees came down blocking the road and cutting off access in some areas of the town. They didn’t bother to ask about the obvious marks spread across her neck and yours, and the bite mark on your wrist was also a small concern to be worried slightly - uh, you’ll talk to the girl regarding that later. 

As for the present situation in terms of appearance while breakfast was made, you’re wearing one of her shirts that was blindly pulled from the closet before instantly passing out soon after. In all honesty, Julie liked how cute you looked with that stupid Hello Kitty graphic across your chest, but it was still a good laugh. 

“She could’ve given me one of your shirts,” you tell her dad, passing a plate with half a stack of pancakes soaked in syrup, “Though, my clothes were already drenched from the rain and all.” 

“I would’ve been fine with it,” her dad says, “Would’ve been better to get you changed out and not keep you in your own clothes for the night.” 

“He knows that I steal from your closet as it is. He’s also crazy if I was gonna have him walking around the palace in one of your shirts, dad.” Julie butts in, bumping your shoulder while her parents are drinking in the sight of their daughter getting along so well with you like it’s old times. They’ve treated you as if you were one of their own, and it goes the same way whenever Julie stays over at your place. Even as kids, staying over and waiting for the other to pick you or her up was always the usual gig. Julie’s parents saw you as someone who is very easygoing, only to be chained to their daughter till the point where separating you two was a stupid decision. You could also assume that they even talked to her about the whole relationship stuff, and they’d be supportive of it, and marriage wouldn’t even be an issue to get around with.

“Will you be busy this summer?” Julie’s mom asks, breaking all the stories from past years in the kitchen. “You finished school and everything, right?” 

“I did,” you answer, feeling Juile’s arm on your shoulder, pulling your head towards hers to wipe off a small patch of syrup stuck on your bottom lip with her finger. “Not supposed to start my new job for another few weeks or so.” 

Julie’s mom hums in excitement, “Look at you, all grown up and getting your life together in the real world. Like your parents, we’re also proud of you too. Julie especially.” 

You gawk at Julie comically, earning a side-eye from her before she playfully slaps your shoulder in retaliation. Both of her parents let out another laugh while you’re veering your face away from her hands. She puts a leg on top of yours on the seat, subconsciously palming it while feeding you another piece of pancake from your plate. “I really appreciate you guys, and I don’t think I could ever express that enough.”

“And you have already.” Julie agrees, openly kissing your cheek while you’re internally breaking down for a slight second soon after. That assumption about her parents being super supportive if you and her finally made it official - well, that was most certainly the case when the both of them nod in approval towards you and her. 

“Your parents love me, and we most definitely love you.” Julie says, and you’ve never been more reassured or comfortable about anything in your life. 

–

Everything falls into the same sense of normalcy like it was before. Some days you’re spending your time at her place, and on other days she’s over at your place. And in between those days where it’s just you and her together, it’s replaced with the sporadic rotation of hangouts with old friends and colleagues who got wind that Julie’s now a mainstay (just for the summer, in case you forgot). 

Some of your friends also tell you and Julie about their insights about the same stories, all while sharing a few bites of appetizers and circling drinks until one of you guys play the silly idea of putting all your credit cards on the table for the waiter to pick a lucky winner at random to pay for the whole meal. 

Not long after, the small party migrates from the restaurant to one of your friend’s houses, where the drinks seem to keep on coming it feels like - being a bit buzzed on the couch while your eardrums are pounding from the somewhat acceptable cover of whatever song they blindly picked from the song book. You’re a little out of it, but still conscious enough to have another sip of water as the viable substitute, words loosely slurred but still discernible to be fine with. 

That is, until Juile is heaving out on your arm, leaning over away from the couch, laughing about some funny memory that happened back in high school - it’s also worth mentioning: she’s drunk, and also a lightweight. You could also look back at the apparent irony that she wouldn’t go all out with the alcohol before entering the restaurant, but here she is - completely lost in the plot at this kickback. 

“You’re gonna throw up if you lean forward like that.” you tell her, holding her up by the shoulders to correct her posture, some hair is also in her face and you part it off to the side with the instinctual thumb rub on her cheek. 

“Did you tell everyone here that you and I finally fucked?” she slurrily spits out, causing everyone in the group within the close proximity of the couch to be in a collective state of shock, though, that’s quickly dissipated with you confirming everyone’s suspicions - despite not being fazed or fully surprised. 

(Before anyone else asks, you’re telling the group. Yes, we also made it official after God knows how long. Are you happy now?) 

–

Later, she’s back in your room for one night, maybe two. 

The whole place is riddled with waves of nostalgia, Julie’s additional presence opening up the sweet wound that never really hurted you in the first place; if anything, it makes the nocturne appearance of the moonlight breaking through your blinds and into the space where you’d want to keep things just the way they were. It’s in the trinkets and collectibles; the multitude of shirts you’ll let her steal (which she already has), a trophy that she broke on accident, and the wilted corsage for when you took her to do anti-prom activities for fun when she gave you the news about moving away from you and this town. The small recap on film running through your head is short-lived, kind of like the roll burning up when there’s nothing left - much of a story unfinished. You and her could recount all of the things that make your room yours, and you wouldn’t mind wasting time talking about the many different kinds of nonsense with her. 

“I’ve been wondering,” she tells you, “actually, more than just wondering.” 

She’s straddled across your lap, fingers dancing along the back of your head - your hands and eyes are wandering all over, from the visible window of her cropped shirt, helplessly holding onto her on her sides, the gradual curve from the rise of her ass, hiking to the spots where you’ll bruise her skin and–

“I’m sorry,” you’re left breathless and laughing a good amount when you look down at her sweatpants, “since when were you so bold with hiking up the ends of your lacy panties for me to notice?” 

Julie presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, knitting one brow closer to the bridge of her nose, hands neatly rested across your traps while she’s snickering at you keeping your eyes stuck to her body - letting your fingers trail up and underneath her cropped shirt, realizing that she didn’t have a bra underneath to begin with. She reads into your next move when your hands stop at her sides, crossing hers over and slipping the shirt, tossing it in some corner of the room where you’ll look for it later, taking in the valley of her breasts and the nice size when you get your thumb and finger beneath them. 

“You’re getting off topic.” She says to you with a click of her tongue, calculated, knowing that there were more pressing measures to be discussed rather than have you shamelessly lusting and drooling all over her pleasantly enticing skin. “Answer the question, dickhead.” 

“Language.” you chuckle, leaning your neck up for a pitiful kiss - to which she accepts. 

It’s awfully quiet around your side of the neighborhood. The only things that break the silence in every few moments or so is the distant beep of the smoke detector downstairs; that, and probably the occasional pass by of a car down the street.  

She asks you the question bouncing around her mind, but you pay no attention since you’re leaving chaste kisses across her chest. 

“Hm?” you have the audacity to hum, causing Juile to flip some of her hair forward - a flash of her ego at best; and another thing about it, you’re so into that. “Must’ve missed the question again. Wha–” 

“You really didn’t have anything serious going on while I was away?” Julie’s implying about any kind of special connection, whilst being very indifferent in the way that she speaks. “Not even good fuck that’s worthy of swiping your v-card?” 

“Okay, then explain how good the experience was when you were doing it with me.” you reply, touch of the fingertips nestling on the outer edge of her back - sliding lower, more forward when you give the faintest pull to bring her closer to you chest. “I’d love to hear all the details about it, actually.” 

“You just want me to say that you’re a good fuck for me.” 

“In more ways than one, yes.” 

Her arms make way, coiling around your neck - tauting themselves gently when you slip the lace at her hips between your fingers. Pulling them down a bit, just to test something, an attempt at best to make her open up all the neat perks and merits of what will entail later. No need to get more depth in the details, you already have most (if not all) of it memorized about her. She’s leaking out the bedroom eyes in the blackness of your small room, and it’ll reel you in whether you’re sensible to resist them or not. 

“If this feeds your ego,” she tells you, singing the sentence along her tongue and to your ears, “you’re right, and I won’t bother to argue.” 

Like you could ever complain to her or vice versa, Juile knows that her own pride will come tumbling down at the cost of you - as you’re electrifying her with every passing touch, sliding the pants and underwear off of her while giving her no chance to recover with a tit in your mouth. 

A pop off the nipple, and she’s running a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself focused, and failing. “Want me to prove myself to you again?” 

She presses her lips to yours, hard. A clash of the tongue and pull of your neck for more leverage, rut her hips across yours to test the friction - that growing heat from within her core, a singularity that many others would die to feel let alone hear the lovely sounds coming out of her mouth. 

“Please,” murmurs Julie, smiling against the bottom of your chin, the grip on her ass tweaks tighter. You’re already imagining the red marks that would defile that creamy, holy skin. 

“Try me,” she husks, “you’ve pretty much earned it.” 

–

(Julie has never been more right about you. The way she puts up all of these walls and red tape; basically begging you to rip right through them, and you do. She’s flustered and left in broken pants the first time you make her cum, screaming and trembling by the second, and you have her a sobbing mess by the third time ‘round, coming undone by your cock. When you slide out of her well-worked pussy, her eyes roll back and up - raw, undone, satisfied - a move up to licking you clean with a swipe of the underside, a kiss to the tip that keeps you hypnotized for a few seconds, and she wants you to keep this in mind. 

“Have I proven a point?” you ask her in full content, hand fastened to the headboard of your bed while you’re straddling her chest, happily wrapping her pretty lips around the head of your cock. “You looked like you enjoyed it a lot.” 

She curls her back in and out when you finally shift and collapse next to her, a lazy kiss to your neck, humming sleepily as if she gave up in keeping it hidden from the rest of the world. “I did,” she whispers ‘round the cuff of your ear, kindly admitting it along your skin. “You’re everything I wanted bundled up all into one.”) 

–

The implication still stands: Julie was never meant to stay rooted to this town. 

She altered her own destiny into becoming a well known individual (since the term ‘famous’ wasn’t too appealing to put it, according to her). She’s sharing all of these different experiences, events, the interactions with people she would have never thought of meeting in her life let alone be in the same space as them. You’re sharing a buttload of things from your end of the scope, how some things stayed the way they are, for the most part. And it’s something that crosses your mind–

“I never really said to you directly about how proud I am of you,” you tell her, happily swinging your right leg around on the swingset outside your guys' favorite cafe. “I’ve told your parents countless times whenever I would see them, but-“

She has her leg over yours, shoulder meshed with her head leaned over - in one of your hats doing its job well enough to keep her appearance concealed; a bit pointless when literally everyone around the town could recognize her with ease. 

“They told me,” she reassures, fiddling along the plastic bit of the string from your hoodie, pursing her lips out with a crease of the eyebrows. “You couldn’t keep in touch with me, but they could, and maybe I could’ve squeezed you in along with them - all you had to do was just ask.” 

Her lips quirk when she makes eye contact with you, rolling them over and right when she scrunches her nose, knowing well at how much you could put up with her antics. 

“That would’ve made things a whole lot easier, but hey,” she laughs, admitting stupidity where it stands, “What matters to me is that you finally had the chance to tell, despite everything.” 

Well, I’m proud of you. You’re saying it again, this time straight to her face and not playing as the messenger. I was with you every step of the way, and now we’ve both made it to where we want to be, and maybe more. 

You’re pulling a piece of hair over the cuff of her ear, she melts at the touch of your palm. Julie then leans in eyes pulling to a close, then the abrupt call of your name on the intercom signifies that the order was ready; letting out a short laugh while a parting slap to her thigh separates you two for just a few moments. 

One quick tip later of a few cents, and she looks up with those oversized rims of her glasses, smiling sweetly once you hand her the same latte she always orders during schedules and events. She’s sipping it instantly while you’re moving her leg up back to where it was before; nodding along at how good the drink tasted. 

She appears distant, pondering about something - zoning out to the distance while she slowly learns back against your shoulder. You’re looking out also, letting the eyes wander for anything in the cool early hours of the morning. 

“Do you resent me? For leaving you? This town, our friends, and everything behind?” she suddenly stops drinking to ask. 

Blinking, you’re trying to find something substantial for an answer. “Well…” 

“Be honest.” she says enthusiastically. “I want nothing but the truth.” 

It takes only a few moments to consider, and you’re always honest with yourself when it comes to talking to Juile. She always wanted to understand your side on certain things: opinions on important matters, what kinds of clothes look good on her and what doesn’t, even the stances on who matches with who and the possible compatibility between the two that isn’t you or her. You lick your lips, tilt the drink in your hand but just enough to not where it’ll spill. 

“I’ve already told you what I thought about everything that day,” you say, placing the drink on the bench to prevent from letting the wetness from the cup soak to your fingers. “It hasn’t changed. And it never will. Me being with you since the beginning should already say enough.” 

“Ah, you’re right,” she breathes, pouting her lips slightly because you could easily tell that she’s managed to let that slip from her mind, and you don’t blame her for that. She continues to ramble on about all of these regrets that seem to unravel and fall out - her cool breaking down once the realizations set in of the countless sacrifices she had to make. “How silly of me, overlooking that day.” 

A shake of her head only brings the disappointment to the front faster, and she keeps drinking up her latte. You catch the smallest hint of a twinkle in her eyes, the middle part of the plastic top hitting the edge of her nose once finished with the beverage. Instinctually pressing your lips to her cheek as reassurance, she smiles at that, letting you take her empty cup to toss a few steps away from the bench. 

Coming back, she’s on her phone, smiling her heart away at something that she’s proud of for sure; you can’t help at how cute she looks when she’s all geeked out - emitting more confidence that you could only dream of matching.You’ll get a chance of that with her help, or not; either way, if she’s happy, you’re happy. 

“I was out in Europe for a shoot before our break,” she lets you in on her project, “The concept is very niche for all of us, and I’m very happy we pushed forward with this. Consider it as an insider look as appreciation for the way you’ve been treating me.” 

She’s showing you a quick slideshow of Julie in an extremely wicked bikini top, a roll of green wrapped around her middle in a poor attempt of a ribbon around her body. Then there’s the short video of her on the stationary bike, and then the actual choreography. It’s leaving you in shock, so there’s really only one way of reacting. “I- holy shit. Julie, the–” 

You’re watching how exciting it is for her to show these things to you, it’s adorable. She lets you in about all of the logistics, music, overall approach to how they wanted this thing to be received. The drive, passion, how everyone played a part into making this work; you understand that level of thinking entirely. “Right? This was exactly what I was talking about.” she’s tapping along your arm, “I can easily tell which part is your favorite already.” 

“Not even gonna say it.” 

“You should because it’s me.” 

“Fucking christ,” you mutter, swiping her phone to get a closer look. She leans closer with a mischievous giggle at the thumb replaying the clips over and over again. “Hate it, someone like you should never be this hot.” 

“But I am.” she replies, placing both of her legs across yours. “That’s the fucked up thing, isn’t it.” 

“It’s also amazingly fucked up how good you are at twerking.” 

“Didn’t come from practice baby, it’s all natural.”

You’re left gaping at her, shocked even. Julie’s eye smile is the only thing you see while she's covering up her face in embarrassment, wondering if the current judgment you’re giving her will stick for the foreseeable future. 

It’ll throw you for a loop, but it’s still hot. 

“I might have to rethink my life choices from here on out.” you tell her, staring up at the ceiling with a smile while she playfully punches your shoulder out of annoyance. 

–

A beat later, you’re staring at the ceiling. 

More specifically, the ceiling in your room, barely holding it together when you look up at the sight of Julie’s backside, cock vanishing in between in that glorious canyon of her ass, bouncing up and out with the pitches in her moans go further up the gradual scale. 

“Fucking hell,” you hiss, hands resting along her calves while she slams her hips down, lightly thrusting yours up to meet her in the middle. The pressure already hot around your length, murmuring some words of praise that fall toward nearly inconceivable to understand. She sits up, and you’re hypnotized by the way she raises her hair up to reveal more of her surprisingly toned back, peeking over her shoulder, while your head just plops back to the pillow behind. 

“You like that,” she murmurs, rocking her hips in a forward-backward motion along the stiff line of your cock, “oh- you love when you get to have my ass like this for you.” 

“God-,” you huff out, pathetically, vision blackening to a fine point. “Holy shit- I could never get tired of this pussy, ‘feels so damn good.” 

She falters forward, letting most of her lower body do the work, spreading her thighs out more for your hands to come to grips with. Flipping some of her hair back, while reversing her ass at the angle where you feel all of her, you’re worried if your dick will stay in one piece by the end of it. 

“Just sit there like a good boy and relax,” Julie tells you, with a firm determination above the creaks of the bedframe, “don’t even do anything.” When she grinds down, deep, to where you’re thrusting your hips upward to hit her favorite spot, she coos at how you failed to put up with her instructions. “Look at you, not even listening to what I’m saying, shame on you.” 

“Don’t really care,” you offer - an admission of guilt would be a better way of describing it, “You always get what you want anyway, so it’s my turn.” 

You could feel the smile from across her lips, happily taking the opportunity to fuck herself over your cock choking her all the way down to the hilt. The slick sounds coming away from your groin and hers is a lovey track you’ll never get tired of hearing, and she adores the sounds coming out of you as well, it’s unholy, slamming back down with the sweetest whines projecting from her mouth. 

She shimmy’s her hands up your thighs, sitting upright, letting you rest inside her warm hold for just a second while she catches her breath. Then, with a move of one leg, and the other to follow, she’s on the opposite side, caressing your head while your fingers are quick to get her hips moving again, amazed when you slide up in her, quivering thighs and a shaky breath to get you softly laughing. 

The slaps of her hips on yours get louder for a few moments; admittedly, you kinda just let yourself go because her cunt should not be this easy to spread apart. In addition to that, her mouth hovers next to your ear, mumbling words or something remotely close to a verbal sound while you’re fixated on the clench her walls have over you. 

The vision only fades out more, then the hearing also goes: 

“Pill.” she tells you. That singular word entails a thing. One thing, and probably the testaments that will come after - if you’re ready for it, but let’s face the facts: for someone like her and the industry that she’s affiliated in, no one is ever really ready, but you’ll be in on it if she’s the first on board. 

You’re not letting up your pace anytime soon, grabbing a handful of her ass, and bringing her back down to Earth. “Juls, you–” 

“I want your cum.” she simply says, “just yours.” 

It’s also not worth putting up a fight for much longer when she cums first; the gritty groan that has you sighing in tandem. She’s powering through with her lips on yours, wanting your body to completely crumble underneath her, fucking past your threshold - a kiss to the corner of your lip, in the most menacing action she could do to you, well pleased and–

“You’re so- fuck, filling me up was also one of your dreams, wasn’t it?” 

Hey, in all fairness, let her have this one on you. If it means having her breasts all over your tongue or her nails gripping the nape of your neck, you’ll be adamant in not letting her go. 

–

Your mind gets in this gray area. Things might be in a constant loop in terms of activities, or maybe you’re dialing it back from the hammering heatwave the other day. It’s not that, just the foggy morning on a lazy Sunday. 

You’re taking slow steps across the hardwood floorboards in your house, glass of water in your hand. There weren't any plans for you and Julie for today, so the second best option which was the logical one was to stay inside, despite doing that for four out of the seven days last week. There’s also this quiet appreciation you have when the ominous setting of the house is in complete darkness, with the light fog serving as the present light source when you reach back to your room upstairs. 

Upon returning, the visible spot of where you slept, and Julie adjacent to the right, still knocked out. It’s very calming, you realize, how peaceful she looks while sleeping, the gentle rise and fall of her chest underneath the sheets. The small tousle of her hair is spread out across the pillow, with her left arm and leg in the same position as it was when you were in bed with her before waking up.  

Mindful of what she mentioned about her sleep schedule being all over the place at times, you decide to admire her bare face when you’re thumbing her cheek. 

She twists a bit at the touch, the subtle stretch of her body underneath, shaking off the slumber little by little. The comforter resting along her neck shifts down, revealing the apparent lines of hickeys across the column of her neck - a favorite preference of yours that you’re carefully examining while she slowly flutters her eyelids open. 

A look up, and you’re leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Figured I’d let you sleep in for a bit longer, but it looks like you don’t want to.” 

Julie pulls a lazy smile, shifting her body slightly deeper into the cushiony confines of the bed, not wanting to move. “Do I want to know when we both passed out last night?” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” 

“It’s also not like we’re gonna do anything today. I mean, it’s been hot for most of the week. And, we only got lucky with the rainfall around here.” She finally decides to sit up a bit, pull some of the sheets over her body for a little more coverage. Your parents are out early again seeing relatives, an advantage in this current scenario: just you and me alone? Where you’ll fuck me again and again until the screams bounce off the walls and the neighbors will come over to complain for the hundredth time-

“You’re right. We don’t have anything planned for the time being,” you tell her, another helpless kiss to give that sends your brain giddy signals because your gorgeous lover and best friend for years is making you act like a freaking kid once more - not that you’d complain about it. 

“Aside from watching that series you found, I’d rather just stay inside for today.” Julie suggests, scooching closer to you on the edge of the bed. “Cook us something for breakfast.” 

That will happen, eventually, but you’re too busy working your lips all over Julie’s face. Tip your forehead in, get a kiss to her temple, then her cheeks, a stray one next to her nose, the end of her nose, her jaw. She’s too smitten with the private displays of affection, gratefully accepting it with an arm thrown over the shoulder, lightly laughing a crinkled nose with her face brightening. 

It’s moments like these, away from the attention of others, behind closed doors, where the cameras and die-hard fans of Julie’s persona don’t typically have the golden chance to see, they’d envy to be in your place - as the one person out of everyone in her life to have this side of her. She tells you that fame itself is a weird paradox to get sucked in by, and in a way she’s absolutely right. You know from the get-go that Julie is one of the most beautiful, soft-spoken, and well respected individuals you have ever had the blessing of knowing. 

“Anyone ever told you how amazing you look?” you ask her, her squinted eyes losing all seriousness when you laugh. 

The look of adoration you have on her bare, sleepy face. It’s a sight that you don’t want others to cherish other than yourself. 

“I’d rather just stay in this room and stare at you if I could.” 

“Isn’t that what you’re doing already?” she asks, biting her lip while you’re tilting your head from right to left, mimicking her doe eyes that she rejects with a hand soon after, for now. 

You bite your lip, let out a tsk, and something snaps in your head for one second. Lips are fast to the line of her neck, hand slithering to her back, laying her back down on the bed gently. Julie tenses up for a moment, then lets her body go slack, allowing you to leave no nook or crevice untouched with the feeling of your tongue. 

“Breakfast?” she asks. 

“Not now,” you answer, kissing the pulse point right beneath her jaw, soothing with a soft bite of your teeth, “Just indulging.” 

“I see.” 

She murmurs and squeaks once you let your hands join the party. Kneading and massaging her breasts while you shift yourself down to the line of her collarbone, inhaling the leftover aroma of sex from the previous night. Her hand’s quick to the back of your head, tugging hair while you let your right hand jump down to her hip. A move of the sheets, to open things up, and your mouth shifts in between the cleavage, getting lower. 

Julie putting legs together was a futile effort, sliding along her luscious thighs while your tongue streamed down her abs. The grip of her fingers got a little tighter, closer to desperate. 

“Enjoying your fun?” 

“Very.” 

Your eyes lock on to that tattoo that hugs above the hard bone of her hip. It's a simple design: an anchor. The meaning of it is something that she never got around to explaining, feeling the ink across the pad of your thumb before smothering it in a string of kisses, to where she laughs at the silly feeling. Your hands curve up her waist, while your head is at her belly, descending down even more to where you're hovering right above the designated area you’ve set your sights on. 

A check of the clock in a quick glance, and it reads nine-thirty. There’s definitely some extra time to waste before starting the day. 

Juile lets in a sharp inhale when you get yourself comfortable, arms underneath her legs, parting them. She sees the glint in your eyes when you’ve finally started to bring the trail of kisses from her inner thigh upwards, anticipating for what’s to come. You can tell that her vision is getting hazy, a cross-eyed gaze that only pushes you to absolutely ruin her, and hold your end of the deal. 

“Have I ever told you,” you start, a teasing kiss to her folds, “how amazing your body is?” 

“I don’t think you’ve told me explicitly, but showed in other ways.” she replies, propping herself up with an elbow and a heel down to your spine. 

That’s your Julie.

You press her down, from the waist, a harsh suck on the clit, and get the first few samples of her addicting slick down your mouth. She sucks in her gut right underneath your fingers, and you hum in approval. 

Pulling away, licking your upper lip, and some of her bed hair gets in front of her face, heaving. “And by the way,” you tell her, “I”m getting you back with the whipped cream this time.” 

She nods, knowing well that it’s pointless for her to fight the foreshadowed climaxing sounds coming out of her mouth with the back of her hand. 

–

Julie brings out a side of you that only seems to really bloom fully when she’s around. It’s something that never really gets acknowledged, let alone be brought up in moments where you’re truly at your most vulnerable state - the side where all of these hardships and struggles in being a good person, blinded by perfection, all seem to wash away from the touch of her hands and lips, combined with the reassuring words of encouragement. 

That said side truly blossoms when you genuinely feel the intimacy above what the mind wants you to think. Aside from all the hand-holding, arms linked, stolen kisses while waiting at the red lights, sharing bites of the same food order, tearing away skin in little nips, the sex itself escalated a lot more than just sheer lust taking over both of you. It’s above than just the regular conventional fucking. 

So you bring it back to where you and her unpacked all of the bottled up feelings: 

On the couch, but this time at your place rather than hers. By literal unpacking, when you sink your cock inside, the relief of her walls clamping down around you, moaning out alternating expletives and your name, letting her body go limp as you increase the pace, pounding her senseless, have the raw urge to just get rough and pin her down in this spot where she’s supposed to be. You’ll want to be locked away with just her for no one else to see, to have her all to yourself; it’ll be selfish of you, but she’d agree where your head is leveled. 

“It’s not even all that special- ah-” she blurts out while you have your hands cuffed to the back of her shoulders, leaning in to place a languid kiss across the fine column of her neck. You’re fucking out all the sounds and whines out of her, bottoming out every drive in, her legs rest just above your backside ankles stacked - your mind is already frizzled out, and so is hers, pulling ever fiber inside your muscles and bones into getting her astonishingly destroyed, “it’s just- your cock is- fuck- fucking perfect.” 

She’d want you to be gentle sometimes, but when it’s rough? Oh man, you’ll let the actions speak louder than your fucking words. 

“In through your nose, Juile,” you whisper with a bump to her forehead, holding her down at the waist while your hips aim tried and true, into the hottest spot deep in her cunt where you can reach, “That’s it baby, there we go. Just be pretty for me, like this. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Ugh,” she huffs, letting her eyelids drop finally when you’ve made her reach that euphoric sensation first, gasping when she feels a hand wrap lightly around the jaw, forcing her mouth open, a few broken sounds get let out, panting. Her back arches while you slip your other arm under, and manage to drive your cockhead even deeper - it's a new feeling of bliss that has you in disbelief. “More, please-”

She is so- so slick around your cock. A dam of an orgasm within you and her just waiting to finally break. You keep the motion going: pull your hips out, and drive back in. Pull your hips a bit further out the second time, and the snap of your thighs hitting has her crying. It’s mind numbing; you’ve lost your composure with her the first time fucking your feelings out to her, and it’ll be like this for as long as you’re together. She could ruin you like right now - in the next day, week, month; hell, for the foreseeable future. The notion in itself is already devastating to think while this girl beneath you is shuddering, as you’re pounding her ruthlessly, pulling her hips back to yours, coaxing her worked pussy well past the brink to the point where you’re hearing your own heartbeat thumping in between your ears. 

“You’re so good…” she croons, lifting her head up bareilly to kiss you, get a few nails dragging along your back, let the pain soothe the filthy fuck you’re giving her. “Please, just– like that, god, fuck me, more, more-” 

“Shh.” 

Some things in life are better left unsaid. 

“I want to be yours before I go.” she whimpers, sounding off depressingly - like she’s unwilling to cope with the fact of leaving you. Her eyes are glassy, begging almost - like this was the one fear she’s afraid to live out when the time comes. 

The sobs mix in with the slaps. She’s reduced to much less than a puddle, all worn out and exhausted, reaching out in desperation, keeping you close. You and her are so flushed, the stifling warmth could make you sick. 

“Baby,” you breathe, a fast and tender kiss to give her all the reassurance that she’ll ever need. “You’re not- I’m never letting you go. Not now, not ever.” 

By the time she’s whining and writhing and spilling out these bittersweet sobs, rocking your cock down the crevice until you’re fucking your load right down her gut. You’re hunched over, fingers digging into the two small divots below the small of her back, hips bucking, a culmination - a nod, callback, homage, whatever you’d like to call it. You’ll leave your sentiment here, along with your heart, pulsing every beat out until the strokes get slow, lethargic. 

Until you finally lay to rest with a kiss to her temple. 

You tilt your face, let the breath graze across hers. Her hands are clasped together, your thumb pulling a bit of her hair away from her cheek. She’s shaking a bit, chest heaving but calming as the seconds pass on the clock. 

“I was always yours.” This was the lasting resolve you’ve had with Julie, “from the very start.” You’re muttering while she’s knitting her eyebrows, trying to take time to recuperate, fluttering her eyes open that tears down the final wall within your chamber. 

She tries to form something within the rows of her teeth, and though it might not be recognizable to your ear canals, you press your forehead against hers again, letting that lazy smile do damage for the thousandth time since she got here. Drink in the moment while the crickets start singing their patchy tones. 

“It’s you,” she says, tiredly. “It’s always been you.” She’s softly laughing while you’re peppering her with kisses, and she’s quick to get both of her hands on opposite ends of your face, having one for herself because she’s selfish. “No one else even comes close.” 

Finally closing her eyes, you pull a soft smile, internalizing what was just said. 

–

The agenda is running blanks - you’re stuck doing the usual, daily routine that you’ve built a proper consistency with. Sometimes, it feels like you’re running a rerun of that one annoying sitcom your dad plays to serve as background noise while doing chores around the house. 

In other words, it’s been a little bit dry. 

“You never really told me,” you tell her, leaning back against the car while squinting through your sunny’s, staring up at the building in front of you. “I’ve always wondered if you’d take the chance to teach a class here in your free time.” The building, that is, Julie’s old dance studio; one of a few places that has served a pivotal purpose in your friendship and relationship with her. She tells you that you would’ve done a few things well if you had chosen to pursue the same passion as her years ago, and you laugh at that. 

“Something to consider,” she starts. Walking back towards the car while you sigh and have an eyebrow lifted. “Think they’d take me in when I’m supposed to lay low for the time being?” 

“Talk about laying low when everyone knows you’re back in town.” You shrug. 

“I might just do it.” 

“Then go for it.” 

You pass her a drink that was bought from one of her favorite spots just five minutes down the street, puts the refreshing taste down her throat before returning the cup. 

“I’ve only got a few more days,” Julie says, twisting your attention from your phone back to her. And once again, you’re reminded. You’ve known the stakes long before she even arrived here. The low burst of a bus passing by, a daunting noise you'll hear again once you drop her off at the airport when it happens. “The company wants me back to finalize a few things before the next project.” 

“Right,” you nod, remembering clearly about the short topic when she brought it up the other day. “Can’t be a show if they don’t have their star present to make it happen.” 

Julie shifts a shoulder, tilting her head and prompting you to walk with her. There wasn’t anywhere else to go in this town, and you’ve done the lot. At this point, you’re just enjoying the quality time spent well with her. 

And it gets you wondering - probably the fine line between delusion and deep thought about: What would it be like if she didn’t become famous in the first place? Would she pursue other endeavors besides doing dancing and music that she could be proud about? What if it didn’t work out back then, and she had to come back here? None of those things really matter unless she tried, and look what happened; she did try, and she made it. 

It’s after all these years of building her own life, you realize again, that even though there's that apparent gap of leaving you in the dark for all this time, she’s still the same - deep down, in this very moment where no one else sees her as this superstar, but a regular person. A person, to you, that has grown much more than what you could have ever imagined possible. The list of things in your mental checklist has filled up to the point where the paper roll in would have to be extended, maybe stapled to a stack. 

You hit the jackpot in the roulette love-life that some are very lucky to have. That longtime childhood friend-next-door neighbor turned to lover seems very make-believe and cliché if put in writing, but you’ll fill the blank journal page of that story somewhere down the line. 

(An idea, or, ideas - for the topic of that entry, start forming. Maybe it’s a good thing to set some time aside to rewrite that empty draft completely.) 

She’s here now, she’ll be gone soon; but the unchanging fact is that you’ll be her strongest supporter. An act of affection that doesn’t really need to be said out loud, and you’re cheering her on even if she’s begging to stay in this town. You love her and what she does; you’ll love her even if there’s some distance between you two. 

Love. You blurt out while zoning out to the small skyline, it’s such a funny concept to think about. Even if–

“What was that?” Julie asks, stopping in place while you’re suspended on the sidewalk. “Did you say something?” 

And, some things in life are meant to be said. 

“I love you.” The own voice in your throat sounds unnatural, like a spirit possessed you into saying it. You clear your throat, not willing to hide away from anything - especially her. “I’ve always loved you. Didn’t you know that?” 

Julie turns her body square to you, a tilt of her head, inquisitively, lightly scrunching her face at what you just confessed, admitted - determining if you just committed perjury at this very moment. All she did after a second was nod in agreement, looking you in the eyes that tell a whole lot more, “Yeah, I knew that.” 

You cringe, throwing the most gummy grin at her imaginable. She laughs, walking forward with a small hand slap to your chest. It’s silly, cute, and so sweet. This girl has weaved into your heart, threading it so tightly that everyone else outside your little bubble knows that you’re hers. A keepsake, one of many. 

“Think you can handle missing me?” she asks, hand on your cheek - and this time you’re the one leaning into her touch. “From the looks of it, you’re gonna be struggling. Like, a lot.” 

“Tsk,” and you’re rolling your eyes while she starts to walk again, “I worry, like a normal person should.” 

“What’s there for you to worry about?” Julie asks you with her hands stacked behind her back, “until then, we’ve got all the time in the world. Now c’mon!” 

She grabs you by the hand, and you’re left smiling since it’s been something to be fine with. Because at the end of it all, she’s always right. 

Best believe that you won’t forget it. 

-

// i hope you enjoyed!! wanted to pop in here to say a quick massive thank you for all the amazing support since my debut so far. it genuinely means the world to me and I appreciate you guys from the bottom of my heart. much love to everyone, stick around for more, and stay healthy <333 // 

[sinofwriting]

Not Quite Temptation - Max Verstappen

Words: 874 Summary: Christian introduces Max to his daughter. Note(s): This was requested months ago and I apologize to the requester that it took so long for me to write it, but I hope you enjoy! Also, I’m aware of the complaint that has been filed on Horner (the complaint from what I understand (and seen from majority sources) is about aggressive management i.e. controlling behavior). I understand if seeing this makes people uncomfortable and if it does, I urge you to scroll past and ignore this.

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Christian had been thrilled when his oldest child, his daughter, had finally wanted to come to a race. He wasn’t delusional. He knew it wasn’t because she had finally gained a larger interest in the sport, no matter how much he had tried over the years. It was simply to spend time with him. Which as much as he pretended to complain to Geri about it (because honestly if she wanted to spend time with him, it’d be much easier not during a race weekend) he loved it.

He hadn’t gotten to really be a part of her life as she grew up, custody arrangement strict due to all of his traveling. It was only later when she turned sixteen that really she and him truly got to spend time together. Her mother allowing her to spend weeks at his house, more comfortable as well with Geri being there. There was a little part of him however that was bitter that it took this long for her to attend a race, that her mother had been so insistent on her not going to races when she was underage.

He pushed away the thought, just happy that finally wanted to go to one, even if it was just to see and spend time with him.

Introducing her around, he laughs when Adrian’s eyes go a little wide.

“Why, that can’t be little Y/N? You were twelve the last time I saw you. And this high.” He raises his hand to just a little above his waist.

“Eight years changes a lot.” She laughs. “What dad doesn’t show a picture of me around?” It’s a joke, but a few people overhearing flinch, exchanging looks.

“If you’d let me show pictures of you, I would. I’m very proud.” Christian says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head, still in disbelief that he had a twenty-year-old daughter. It didn’t feel right or real.

“I know.”

He smiles, nodding at Adrian before directing to where the driver’s rooms are. “C’mon, I want you to meet Max. It’s nearly a crime you haven’t met him till now.”

“Aw, your golden child. Or second golden child.”

He mock scowls at her. “You need to stop talking to Seb.”

“No way. His girls call me Auntie.”

Christian makes a humming noise, stopping in front of a closed door and raising his fist to knock.

“Max. Do you have a moment? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

He hears the driver groan through the door. “Christian, I really don’t want to meet a sponsor right now, okay. I’m not feeling well.”

“Not a sponsor, I promise.”

“Pleasant.” She murmurs when Max doesn’t say anything else. It makes him glance down and he’s relieved to see an amused smile on her face. “How often are you forcing him to meet sponsors?”

“You sound like him right now.” He tells her.

As she starts to laugh, the door opens.

“Max,” Christian smiles. “This is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, Max Verstappen.”

“Your golden child.” She teases, before reaching out to shake Max’s hand that he had extended. “Nice to meet you, Max. My dad is quite fond of you.”

“Lovely to meet you.” He tells her, before looking at Christian for a brief second with a raised eyebrow. “Is this your first race?”

“It is.”

“Let me give you a tour, introduce you to a few drivers. Any minute now, Christian will have to go to a meeting.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” She says, leaning just the slightest bit into him and he knows that Max picks up on it with the way his eyes soften a bit.

“It’s no problem really. Besides, this means your dad will owe me a favor.” He winks.

Christian wants to protest, but she laughs and he nods. “One favor and my meeting should only be an hour, darling.” He presses another kiss to her head. “Careful with my daughter, Max and don’t take her around Toto or Esteban. That’s the last thing I need.”

“Got it, boss.”

A little over an hour later, as Christian enters the garage, his eyes quickly spot his daughter who’s talking to Adrian again, her hands moving around as she explains something to him. He considers going over, but Adrian has that look on his face. The one where he’s fully paying attention and getting some sort of idea from what the other person is telling him.

Letting his eyes wander around the garage, they pause on Max and he nearly freezes because that is the look of a man clearly checking someone out and a sick sort of feeling forms in his stomach. Following his line of sight, his fists clench and he struggles not to yell. Because it was his daughter that Max was looking at. His fucking daughter.

Looking at her, he takes a few deep breaths, comforting himself with the fact that she’d never be interested in someone like Max. Completely missing how her hair is no longer up but down and carefully covering parts of her neck and how she keeps shifting her weight. He also completely misses the small glances and smiles Max and her exchange.

[dorabellingham]

Fashion critic

warning: words of a "sexual nature"

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you do some shopping and he wants to analyze all the pieces of clothing, or better yet, admire his girl

may contain spelling and translation errors!

After finishing opening all the boxes, Jude was sitting on the couch, watching the veritable parade of luxury you had brought home. He shook his head, sometimes in disbelief, sometimes in amusement, as she arranged everything around you. Between shoes, bags, dresses, and even a pair of sunglasses that he swore he had seen you wear something similar to, the room looked like a designer store. Jude stretched his legs out on the couch and crossed his arms, with a mischievous smile on his face.

—Okay, sweetheart, let’s go. Since you spent all this money -with my money, by the way, I think you should at least try it on for me.

You stopped folding one of the bags and turned to him, with an arched eyebrow.

—Oh, really? And why would I do that, Jude?

He shrugged, still smiling.

—Because I’m the official sponsor of this game, and I have the right to approve the investment. What if something isn't worth what it cost?

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

—Oh, so now you want to be a fashion critic, babe?

—Exactly, babe. —He leaned forward, patting the cushion next to him. —Come on, go ahead. Show me what my money bought.

You huffed, but grabbed one of the dresses from the bag and went to the bedroom.

—Only because I know you love seeing me wearing these things.

—And without them too.

He muttered mischievously, and you threw a shoe in his direction before disappearing.

When you came back, wearing a short black dress that perfectly highlighted your curves, Jude's eyes widened, whistling softly.

—Wow. See? That was worth it, sweetie.

You twirled around in an exaggerated way, as if you were on a runway.

—So, Mr. Critic? Do I pass the test?

—Easy. —He smiled and gestured for you to come back. —Next.

You laughed, but kept changing clothes and coming back with different pieces. A long, flowing dress, boots that made you look taller, elegant jackets, and even a super stylish sweatsuit that you used to tease.

—This one is for when you make me lazy at home.

You said, laughing.

Jude was having more fun with each change, applauding exaggeratedly at some and even getting up to adjust details in others.

When you appeared with a red silk dress, that hugged your body in a way that seemed to have been tailored, your boyfriend was silent for a few seconds, just staring.

—So, Bellingham? Aren't you going to say anything?

You asked, tilting your head.

He got up from the couch, approaching slowly.

—I think this one… — He left the sentence hanging in the air, holding your waist and sliding his hands over the fabric. —It should be just for me.

You laughed, pushing his chest lightly.

—Oh, sure. Because I'm going to spend all of this to use it just here at your house.

—If you're going to make me like this... yes.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks blushed slightly. Jude noticed and smiled even more.

—Come on, go. Is there more or is it over?

He teased.

You sighed dramatically.

—There's more. But if you don't stop being conceited, I'll save the rest for another time.

He walked away with his hands raised.

—Okay, okay. I promise to be serious. Go ahead.

When you came back for the last time, wearing an oversized blazer and knee-high boots, he couldn't help but smile.

—That's... that's so you, babe. It suits you perfectly.

You smiled, adjusting your blazer.

—So I passed the test? Was it worth the investment?

—You passed with flying colors. But... — He pulled you by the hand, making her sit on his lap. —I don't think it was an investment. It was a gift. You deserve all of this.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

—And you think I don’t know that you love to spoil me?

—Of course I do. But now… —He looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. —I think I’m going to need a few more close-up evaluations.

[dailynnt]

AURORA

ᴺᵒʳᵗʰᵉʳⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ

༘✩ Summary: A relationship that survived a breakup but could not be forgotten. Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, their feelings had their peaks and troughs, but always remained on the horizon. You meet your ex at some event. The feelings are still alive.

༘✩ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader

༘✩Age restrictions: 18+

༘✩ Size: one shot

༘✩ Tags: ex to lovers, longing, smurt, cursing, sex, unprotected sex, detailed description of explicit scenes, alcohol

༘✩ Dedication: This work is dedicated to my beloved Armys. I wrote this work thinking of you. I hope this work resonates with you - @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007

༘✩ From author: I have long dreamed of writing a story like this and here it is in one day. I tried my best for you and I really hope you will like the way I described the love that does not die, even if it seems that it is the end. Inspired by a song I found not so long ago and it immediately associated me with Jungkook💜❤️‍🔥💘 And I'll add another one, the lyrics of which are also here. Enjoy 🙏🏻🥰

You didn't expect to see him. You thought you would never see him again in your life. Certainly not here, among dozens of strangers, in a room flooded with soft light that resembled the glare of the northern lights. But he was here.

Your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. He is approaching, accompanied by one of the organizers of the event you have come to. He keeps his eyes on you and you can't look away either. He seems to be the only one who could touch the strings of your soul, and they seem to be starting to pluck.

He approaches and stops a few steps away. He didn't expect to see you again either. Your last words had clearly created a great gulf between you that neither of you could cross.

He was not prepared for his heart to beat faster and his breath to become ragged, as if after a long run. But he couldn't show it, he had to control himself.

"Y/N would like to introduce you to one of our biggest sponsors. Jeon Jungkook." - He introduce Jungkook. "And Mr. Jeon, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She's a writer with whom our publishing house works." - Your eyes are greedy. You literally study each other, trying to find what has changed. And if anything has changed at all.

You look at him, waiting for him to behave. Will he pretend that you don't know each other? Or will he say that there is no need to introduce you? Because you used to be the whole world to each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N." - Jungkook says. So he chooses not to be an acquaintance. Hmm, in fact, he is.

"Likewise." - You reply briefly and discreetly. Jungkook pulls your hand towards him and you put yours in his. An electric pulse goes through your whole body.

He has the same look in his eyes. The same movements you know. You used to know every detail about each other. And then you lost it.

This man in front of you was your ex-boyfriend. He was the man who made you feel like the world stopped when you were with him. He was your passion, your trusted friend, your lover. Everything between you was intense and pure, but like everything that burns brightly, it burned out. The breakup was hard and painful.

You felt your heart flutter at the familiar touch. It was more than physical contact - it was like coming home after a long journey. You didn't want it, but just like then, you couldn't shake this deep attachment. You tried to forget him, tried to let him go, but he was remained by you every day, in you every thought. And now, when your hand is back in his, you realized that you was never really ready to let go.

"I read your story. It's amazing. I'm not surprised why it's so successful." - Jungkook says, and you think you're going to fall through the floor. He's a great actor, you've always known that. But you're don’t. Even though your heart is burning with excitement and old feelings are bubbling to the surface, you think you have to go. You can't even let him be with you, because you'll lose all control.

But let's be honest, the walls you've been building for six months since the breakup has cracked. Just looking at him makes you want him to be yours again.

"I am sincerely grateful for your words. But to be honest, you don't strike me as someone who reads romance novels." - You can't contain your sarcasm. Jungkook laughs lightly, his husky voice vibrating, and this vibration ignite your bones.

"Actually, Mr. Jeon is a very creative person. He's a professional photographer." - The event organizer explains, not realizing how much these words can make your heart beat faster. Because you know his profession well.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes rest on you again, and his words sound as if he wants to share something more intimate.

"Yes, I often photograph couples." - He says, his voice softening as if he's immersed in his memories. "For me, photography is not just art, it's a way to feel emotions. Sometimes music, movies, or even novels can inspire moments that seem real only through the lens." - You can't help but smile. He's fended off your sarcastic attack, but the thing is, you doubt he could have read your novel.

Jungkook glances down at your red silk dress, which fits your figure perfectly, seductively emphasizing all the curves of your body. Curves that were once his territory. The curves he knows so well, the ones he's touched so many times

Jungkook holds his breath for a moment. He remembers how that delicate skin trembled under his fingers, how your breath grew deeper every time his hands traveled over your body. And now, looking at you, he feels an almost unbearable urge to run his fingertips over your collarbone again, to go lower, to run his hands around your waist, to put his hand on your lower back, where his touch always made you moan slightly.

His imagination shamelessly draws pictures of that red silk fabric slowly sliding off your body, revealing to him everything he remembers so well. His fingers involuntarily clench into a fist - the desire is too sharp, too real. He knows he has no right to touch you, knows that there is a gaping hole between you, created not only by hurt feelings but also by time.

But, damn it, how much he wants to reach out, to touch at least the ends of your hair, to run his fingers over your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin again.

And then, when you finally catch his gaze, he quickly masks the thirst in his eyes with a barely noticeable smile. If only you knew what's going on in his head right now. If you knew that this evening is awakening in him what he has been trying to suppress for so long.

"Then I apologize for my hasty conclusions. I am sincerely grateful that you read my work." - You say and quickly add, because you can't stand Jungkook's company anymore. If he wants you to be strangers, you should stay strangers forever. "It was nice to meet you. Have a nice evening." - You say, giving the men a casual smile and walk away, barely able to keep yourself together. You don't let Jungkook know how much of an impact he has on you, even six months later.

After the breakup, your life turned into an endless marathon of forgetting, although in reality you were just trying not to remember. Your heart was cut like glass, and your mind was exhausted from trying to make yourself stronger. Every day you were learning a new role: a successful woman who was moving forward, even though your inner world was in ruins.

There was no shortage of men around. They came and went-attractive, confident, ready to give you everything you lacked. But each of them remained a shadow, and even the best moments with them felt empty compared to what you had with him. Those evenings when they spent together in bed, or just watching a movie in each other's arms, when there was no time, no space, nothing but your two hearts beating in unison.

You were trying to be "normal," trying to find your way and not think about him. If someone had told you six months ago that he would reappear in your life, you would have laughed, because you were sure that you would never let that happen again. You did everything you could to forget. You immersed yourself in work, wrote, traveled, had short-term meetings, but all of this was just a temporary escape from your own pain.

Over time, you thought, that you might actually be left alone, just to find myself again. You were no longer looking for someone who could give you back the feeling of the real connection that you had. It was your choice, your decision to try to relive this love that you couldn't forget.

But all fate decides. It's not interested in your plans or his plans. It has its own plan and it made sure that your paths crossed again. You are afraid that you won't be able to resist if Jungkook tries to make contact. You love him, but it's unlikely that you'll ever be together again.

The official event is over. You stay at the afterparty. When you enter the restaurant where the party is taking place, you feel a lot of stares. But you are not interested. You stayed after the event because you are excited. Because of the meeting with Jungkook, you can't get rid of the obsessive thoughts and feelings that want to find him and be with him until the morning.

You cautiously study the crowd around you. You don't find Jungkook. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope that he has already left, that your chance meeting was just a game of chance, and that's enough. But the part of you that never learned to forget him feels empty.

You stand at the bar, twirling your wine glass in your fingers, letting yourself relax. The atmosphere of an afterparty is lighter, more relaxed than an official event. People are laughing, the music is flowing with a soft rhythm, making your body sway slightly.

And then you feel it. A gaze. His gaze.

Like an echo of the past that won't let go. At first, you don't turn your head, don't give him that pleasure. But you can't stand it, and your eyes meet. You literally give him a second of your gaze, look away. This is enough for him. He comes closer, stands next to you. His perfume is a familiar scent that makes your pulse quicken. A scent that makes you almost crazy.

"Dancing?" - His voice is low, almost inaudible over the music, but it cuts to the core. You look up at him. His eyes are dark, deep, something has changed in them, but at the same time they are still the same. The eyes that looked at you with love and passion.

"I don't think that's a good idea." - You answer, sipping your wine so that he doesn't notice your excitement.

"Come on. It's just a dance." - He holds out his hand and you look at it. You hesitate, but the devil on your shoulder whispers: you want this. He wants this. Go. Go with him. It's just one night. And you make a choice. You put your hand in his.

He leads you to the dance floor. A slow, sensual melody fills the space between you. His hand on your waist is hot, his fingers gently squeezing the silk fabric of your dress. With his other hand, he holds your palm in his, gently but firmly.

You move to the music, his body almost touching yours. It's not just a dance - it's a dangerous game, a test of willpower. And you seem to have already lost. He has deprived you of all willpower.

You look into his eyes and try to understand what is in his mind. What does he want? Just to know what your life has become? Or does he want to try to cross the line? Jungkook's smile is mysterious. The hole from piercing on his lip stretches. You make a titanic effort not to look at his lips.

You dance, every movement a dangerous test. His hand slides to the small of your back and your breath hits you. He always touched you like this - confidently but slowly, as if he was savoring every moment.

But suddenly he leans a little closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"It's... so familiar, isn't it?" - His voice is husky, and you know he feels the same way you do. It's an unrestrained desire to give in to the feelings that overwhelm you. You pull away and look up, catching his eyes. There, in their dark abyss, something forbidden flashes. Memories. A desire.

"It's in the past for me." - You lie. "The past should stay in the past." - You try to make your voice sound confident, but you don't seem to be succeeding. His hand presses lightly on your back.

"Do you really believe that?" - He asks. The silence between you says more than words. You are standing on the edge of an abyss where it is so easy to fall.

You don't know what to say. Your heart is pounding furiously in your chest, and your hands seem to remember what it feels like to touch it, to feel its warmth. You continue to move to the music, but now everything seems even slower, even more tense.

His fingers gently run down your back, a barely perceptible touch that leaves a pulsating trail. He leans in a little closer, his breath burning your skin.

"You say the past should stay where it is." - He smiles at the corner of his lips, as if he can read your thoughts. "But it seems to be catching up with us, Y/N."

You want to object, to say something prickly, but your body is treacherously drawn to him. His hand moves even lower down your back, almost on your buttocks. It makes you hold your breath. This is nothing. It's a game you've both played before. But didn't you know that things always go over the top with Jungkook?

You stop. He stops too. There are only a few centimeters between you, but it's enough to make every cell in your body burn.

"Jungkook..." - You whisper, not even knowing what you want to say. He looks at you, carefully, almost painfully slowly. His gaze slides across your face, lingers on your lips, and then meets yours again.

"Tell me I have to stop." - He whispers, leaning closer, barely touching your cheek with his nose. "I won't touch you unless you let me." - He says it quietly but confidently. And this is the cruelest thing. Because you don't know what will be worse for you - if he actually touches you or if he pulls away.

You want to tell him to stop. You really do. But instead, your fingers involuntarily clamp down on the fabric of his jacket, not allowing you to move away.

"I can't..." - You give up. So quickly, so foolishly. This admission was enough.

His lips touch your neck very lightly, causing a shiver to run through your body. You sigh, tilting your head as if to give him more access. And he does not refuse.

"Why do you still have this effect on me?" - You protest out loud. He was quiet, almost broken by his own feelings. He ran his fingers along your collarbone, causing your eyes to close.

"Because we never really let go of each other." - He said what you needed to hear. What you hadn't allowed yourself to admit for six months.

You inhale sharply, meeting his gaze. Deep, dark, full of desire. Another moment, and this thin line between temptation and prohibition disappear completely.

"Let's get out of here." - His voice sounded almost like an order, but you knew it was not just a desire. It was a need. Your shared need for each other.

You nodded, and he immediately took your hand, intertwining your fingers. You left the hall quickly, without looking back. The night city greeted you with cool air, but a fire burned inside you.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you got in, feeling your heart pounding madly in your chest. He quickly walked around the car, got behind the wheel, and in a moment you were already pulling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" - You asked, even though the answer wasn't that important. Jungkook gave you a dark, hot, intoxicating look.

"To my place." - He answered. Your heart literally threatens to jump out of your chest. The sensation of butterflies in your stomach excites you to incredible emotions. He puts his tattooed hand on your thigh, as if to claim you. You can feel your underwear getting wet in anticipation of what will happen at Jungkook's house.

"This is crazy." - You say, barely audible. Jungkook smiled.

"And you like it." - He said, still smiling. You wanted to deny it, but why would you, when it's really true.

Jungkook closes the door behind you, and you immediately find yourself pressed against the wall. His lips are so demanding, so powerful over yours. Your insides tremble because it's all so familiar to you. It feels like the six months of separation just didn't happen.

Your hot breath mingled with his as he pulled away from you to take a breath. He was looking at your face. Your eyes were slightly squinted, your lips swollen from kissing, your skin burning from his touch. You were as beautiful as the first night he fell in love with you.

"Are we really going to do this?" - You asked. Your voice broke into a whisper as he ran his fingertips down your neck, along your collarbone, and even lower to the neckline of your dress.

"Yes..." - He says hoarsely, between kisses on your neck. "I should stop, shouldn't I?" - He asks your opinion. You want to moan as he bites your skin and then runs his tongue over the spot.

"Jungkook..." - You breathe out. You don't know if you're begging him to continue or to stop. He stops kissing your neck. Your faces are separated by a few centimeters.

"Last chance to say no, my love." - He says. Fuck, he called you "love," he called you that because he loved you, does he still love you? You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently but firmly.

"Do you want me to say it?" - You ask with a challenge. Let him decide too, you are not the only one responsible for your actions. He squeezes your buttocks with his hands.

"No." - Jungkook says confidently. You smile seductively, giving him the green light. But he's in no hurry to continue what he's started. You know he's waiting for the words.

"Fuck me, love." - You ask. Jungkook's cock twitches in his boxers when he hears those words. Fuck. How can you say that so easily? He's going crazy. He throws himself on your lips, pressing his strong body against yours. His tongue enters your mouth with authority and finds yours. Six months. Six fucking months he wanted you back. He dreamed that you would be in his hands like this. And he made a promise to himself that if he could get you back, he would never let you go again.

Your underwear is getting wet. You are so excited that you think you will burn with passion. Jungkook's tongue seems to be punishing you for being away for so long. His hands are squeezing the meat on your buttocks with good pressure. He picks you up in his arms, and you only cry out softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook puts you down on the floor in his bedroom, interrupting your unrestrained kisses. He lightly touches your silk shoulder and runs his finger under the strap of your dress. He sees your erect nipples through the fabric of your dress. One movement and the shoulder strap is on falling down. He does the same with the other strap. He pulls down the silk and it slides over your figure.

As the dress falls to the floor, gathering at your feet, a picture he literally imagined when he saw it at the party flashes before his eyes.

His cock hardens even more, because your naked body is a frenzy. It's his weakness. That's what makes him commit sin.

He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes it. He feels that you are real. That he is not dreaming about you, as he has been for the last six months. He bends down and eagerly sucks on your erect nipple. Oh, it's a rosebud on his tongue. It tastes so sweet. Jungkook plays with your nipple with his tongue. When he sucks harder, you feel pain, pain that brings pleasure and sweet agony. Jungkook massages the other breast in his hand, and then smoothly moves to the other breast to savor it as well.

You throw your head back and enjoy his actions. You're addicted to the way he crosses the line.

Your pussy is throbbing and you're wetter than ever. You haven't had intimate relations since you broke up with Jungkook, so now you're just going crazy with every move.

Jungkook pulls away from your chest and smiles. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hard cock sticking out of his pants.

He comes close and puts one arm around your waist. You watch him closely. He leans in and you think he's going to kiss you. You even close your eyes, but when nothing happens, you open them to check where he is. He's right there, and he's wearing a cheeky, sly smile.

"Let's see how wet my girl is." - He suggests. His hand goes into your panties, instantly finding your excited clit. He presses his fingers on it and you forget how to breathe.

"Fuck. Honey, is this waterfall for me?" - He asks you, and you can't answer him because you're losing your mind to his movements on your clit. You moan, loud and seductive. Jungkook can't help but kiss you. He covers your lips with his own and kisses you deeply, hotly, while building up your orgasm with his fingers.

You moan into his lips. Jungkook plunges two fingers into your passage and wants to curse. He forgot how tight it is in here. He's angry, thinking that someone else could be in that pussy besides him. So his movements and kisses become rougher.

The pressure he creates with his fingers excites you even more. You like it, but it's not enough because it's not his cock.

Jungkook gently lays you down on the bed, which is so familiar. It has witnessed your love so many times. Jungkook pulls down your thong. He looks at your pussy with great greed, the thong sliding down your slender legs. When your underwear is in his hand, he is in no hurry to throw it away. He touches the fabric with his nose, inhaling your scent.

"This is what my love smells like." - He says. You blush. This is so damn intimate. Jungkook throws your thong somewhere near your dress at floor. You watching him.

He's still as handsome as ever. A slim, toned body where every muscle is visible when it moves. You know so well what those muscles are to the touch. Only he seems to have new tattoos on his right arm. You notice that the eye that was below the elbow is gone, and now there is a green ink mark that says "bulletproof" instead. Oh yes, it's really about him.

"Did you have sex with anyone after me?" - Jungkook distracts you from looking at his tattoos. You raise one eyebrow. Why would he want to know in the middle of your lovemaking?

"Why do you ask?" - You don't answer, but ask your own question. Jungkook takes off his pants and throws them somewhere else.

"Answer me." - He says with authority. And this word sounds more like an order. You resent this. Why do you have to talk to him about it? You, for example, know without a doubt that he has definitely fucked some girls.

"Does it matter to you?" - You ask, not listening to his order. It matters to him. He was your first man, and the thought of anyone touching your body, which is unprecedentedly his, pisses him off.

Jungkook takes off his boxers. You can see his cock, hard and erect, hitting his thighs. You salivate at the sight of it. Jungkook's nude figure drives you crazy. You dream of him entering you and finally destroying you and all your desires not to be with him.

Jungkook approaches you dangerously.

He grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed with a sharp movement. You scream, not expecting him to do this. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and leans in almost touching you. His lips are near yours and his breath burns your skin.

"Answer me when I ask you questions. Because when I want to know something, it's important to me. So, will you tell me? Did some dickhead touch my pussy? Or at least your tits, which also belong to me?" - He speaks low and commanding. His voice echoes in your head. How does he have such power over you? Why are you so excited by these words? You want to tease him more. You know it could be dangerous, but you've always been a gambler.

"What would you do if I told you that dickhead were?" - You ask. Your words have an immediate effect on Jungkook. His eyebrows raise and his eyes darken with rage. He lifts you up, pulling on your arm. It doesn't hurt, but it's sharp. He presses you down and you feel his erect cock resting against your pussy.

"So you're saying you were?" - He asks, but his voice isn't as hard as he looks. "You promised you'd be mine alone. My little slut. You wouldn't let anyone fuck your pussy. You're lying to me." - He says, smiling defiantly.

"I didn't lie. I asked you what you would do if I was like you and found a free cock? Huh?" - You ask with the same audacity. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks.

"I'd wipe him off the face of the earth." - He says casually. "Because he touched something that's mine."

"I'm not yours." - You say. But what are you saying? You are his. Every cell of that body belongs to him. You can't be with other men because you've never met anyone who can compare to him.

"Mine." - He argues with a wide smile on his lips. It makes you angry, even though you agree with him. "You're still mine... that's why you're here now. No one can touch you like I can, no one can love you like I can, no one can fuck you like I can, no one can keep your secrets like I can. I will give you all of this, and I will never let you go." - The lump in your throat prevents you from breathing normally.

You hold back the tears that threaten to fall down. Let these words be true. Let him keep his promise. Because you want to be with him. Jungkook breaks into you with a kiss to assure you of his words. Two lonely tears drops melt between your hot kiss. Jungkook pulls away and you breathe heavily into his lips. He wipes away the tear tracks with his thumbs.

"I haven't had anyone." - You confess, your voice desperate. "I couldn't even bear a strange man touching my body. So you are right. I couldn't be with anyone else." - Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He knew that.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed and invites you to sit on his lap. You climb on top, holding onto his shoulders. Jungkook's cock lies between you, and you look hopefully between your bodies. Jungkook touches your chin with two fingers and lifts it, forcing you to look at him.

"I need to stretch you first, baby. You haven't had sex in a long time." - Jungkook says with pleasure in his voice. You nod your head in agreement.

Jungkook puts one hand on your hip and moves the other to your pussy. He dips one finger into the passage and moves the top down, creating some friction. You sigh blissfully, closing your eyes. After a while, he plunges his other finger in. The pressure increases and you moan softly. And when Jungkook plunges his third finger in, you feel a slight discomfort. It's only his fingers, when he puts his cock in it will hurt.

Jungkook has stretched you properly, and then he invites you to ride him.

"Give me a good ride." - He asks you. You smile and get up to sit on his attractive cock. Jungkook puts his cock’s head against your entrance and presses. You slowly lower yourself and when his tip plunges into your passage, you almost immediately feel pain. You scream out in pain and he stops, but not for long. He gives you a few seconds and then pushes down on your hips, lowering you. You're in pain, and you bite your lip to hold back your screams.

Finally you are filled with his cock to the brim. You feel it twitching inside you.

"Fuckin' shit." - Jungkook curses. He holds back as best he can. He really forgot how tight you are.

You sit like this for no more than half a minute. In the meantime, Jungkook has been working on your clit to get you used to its length. You squeeze his shoulders. He kisses you and you want to get down to the real business.

You start moving on his hips, lifting yours. The first movements are accompanied by pain. But after a while it feels good. You squirm on his lap and let out strangled moans. Jungkook helps you by supporting your hips and admires his beloved's face. It eloquently shows pleasure.

"How do you like riding my cock? Huh, baby? Did you miss it?" - Jungkook asks playfully. His voice breaks because you're riding his cock so well.

"Yeah..." - You answer in a long breath. It feels so good, it's pure ecstasy, it's euphoria. You're chasing an orgasm and he's taking you there.

"Let's make this reconciliation unforgettable." - Jungkook suggests. He takes over the initiative with his hands. He squeezes your thighs harder and pushes you deep and sharp. Your head is spinning from these movements. You bite your lips again, but Jungkook moves closer to you. "Don't hold back the moans I deserve." - He orders. You stop biting your lips, and now your loud moans fill the entire room.

Jungkook has found just the right spot. You feel like you're about to come. Your fingernails tear off the skin on his shoulders.

"Love..." - You call out to him. "I'm close."

Jungkook absorbs your expression with an absolutely lustful gaze. He speeds up his movements, but not so that he can come. He's definitely not done with you yet. You raise and lower your hips on Jungkook's lap to finally have the orgasm you've been waiting for.

When the knot in your lower abdomen is untied, you throw your head back and moan long and hard. Your velvety walls are squeezed by Jungkook's cock, and he jerks you upward to keep from cumming himself. You don't realize it right away. Only when you're on your knees, resting your pussy against Jungkook's abs, and you feel his hands on your buttocks.

"What a good girl. You have your first orgasm." - He counts.

Jungkook orders you to lie down on the pillows and spread your legs for him. He positions himself between your legs without sinking into you. He kisses you on the lips, filling your mouth with his tongue. Your tongues intertwine in a dance of love and passion. When you need air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He goes down to your jaw, then your neck. He savored every inch of your skin, memorizing it again, as if he were discovering something long forgotten but painfully familiar.

He covered your body with kisses until he was in front of your pussy. The memory of his tongue on your clit makes you wet. Jungkook kisses your folds with a weightless kiss, and you're already trembling. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

"I forgot how sweet she is." - He comments. You lift your head to see him between your legs. He kisses the inside of your thighs, not wanting to leave an inch of skin on you that he hasn't kissed.

When he begins to lick your clit, making circular motions around your clit, you can't hold your head up. You fall back on the pillows. Your back arches unconsciously. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks and then sucks on your center. You moan again, and Jungkook thinks he'll never get tired of the sound. He's happy that he's the only one who hears these sounds.

You come on his tongue very quickly. Your swollen, excited clit didn't need much attention. You jerk on his tongue and Jungkook presses his tongue against your center to make sure you have your second orgasm of the night as long as possible.

You stop twitching and breathe heavily. Jungkook kneels down by your spread legs and you can see his beard glistening with your juice. He wipes his chin with his hand and comes closer to you.

"Is my baby satisfied?" - He asks. You are almost unable to speak. You smile and barely speak.

"It was just as fucking gorgeous as ever.” - Jungkook laughs heartily, and once again wants to kiss you. You taste your cum on his tongue. His kisses become slower, deeper.

"I've been waiting for this for so long..." - His voice was quiet, almost hoarse, when he broke away from your lips. You, too, had secretly dreamed that you would have the opportunity to be together again. And who knows how it all will worked out.

Jungkook plunged into you again. His cock entered you painlessly this time. You couldn't get enough, because this is what you will always need. You bent to meet his touch, feeling your bodies merging in a single rhythm.

Every movement was slow, as if he wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible.

Jungkook knew every curve of your body, every weakness that made you sigh and tremble. But this time it was different. Deeper. Stronger. It wasn't just desire. It was something more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips found each other again. He was everything to you that night - a fire that burned from the inside out, and a sea that enveloped you in its waves.

He took his time.

You didn't want it to end.

Your breaths mingle, hot and uneven, as his movements become stronger. He feels a wave of some new emotions, as if he is rediscovering a familiar body.

"You have no idea how much I..." - Jungkook stops, his lips barely touching yours. You open your eyes and stare into his handsome face. You notice beads of sweat on his face and a few loose strands of hair.

"How much what?" - Your voice sounds almost hoarse, and he smiles because he knows you're on the verge.

"How much I missed you." - He finally whispers. You don't have time to say anything because Jungkook is pushing you. You lie in his arms. Your legs are intertwined around his waist. He is deep inside you and this is the best moment of the whole year.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but with each new one he speeds up. He fucks you like never before, and you close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You feel another orgasm coming over you. Jungkook's hips thrust fast and you choke on the sweetest orgasm of the night.

Jungkook comes after you, filling you to the brim with cum. He jerks inside you for a while and stops only when he releases himself with a whimper.

He collapses into the crook of your neck and you both breathe heavily. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. His heavy breathing mingles with yours, and your heart hasn't yet returned to its normal rhythm. Your throat is dry, and you urgently need water.

Jungkook finally stands up and smiles at you with satisfaction. You reflexively do the same.

"You... water?" - Your voice breaks, and you're almost ashamed of how weak it sounds. Jungkook smiles slightly, realizing that you're asking him for water.

"Just a moment, my love." - He says and pecking on your lips. He gently pulls out of you. You try to sit up and cover yourself with the blanket you had sex on.

Jungkook puts on his boxers, finds a bottle of water on the table, unscrews the cap, and hands it to you. You take a few sips, trying to come to your senses. Jungkook sits down next to you, rests his hands on the bed on either side of your hips, and looks you straight in the eye.

"I don't want to let you go anymore." - He says clearly. You freeze.

"Jungkook..." - You want to say something, but you find yourself unceremoniously interrupted by him.

"I'm serious." - He interrupts. "I was an idiot for letting you leave back then. I thought it was for the best, that you and I would destroy each other if we stayed together. But you know what? It was even worse without you."

You look at him, feeling something hot squeezing your chest.

"I don't know if..." - If we should start again. You want to say. But he interrupts you again. The conversations during sex were frank, but now that you're back to reality, things are just as complicated as they were.

"I know." - His large hands gently wrap around yours. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make up for my mistakes. I don't want just one night, Y/N. I want everything. I want you. I want our future."

You see the sincerity in his dark eyes, and it almost scares you. You're afraid, even though you really want to start over.

"What if it doesn't work out again?" - You share your worries.

"I will make it work. Every day. Every time you doubt, I'll prove to you that I love you more than ever." - He leans in slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. But you don't. Your lips meet again, and this time the kiss is not so hot, not so hasty. It's deeper, more tender.

Like a hope.

Like a promise.

"Let's try again." - You agree. You look into his eyes, reading everything he didn't say out loud: fear, hope, devotion. Jungkook has never been a man to give up easily, and now he was proving it again.

Your fingers involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if checking to see if he is real, if this moment is real.

"Do you promise we will?"

He leans in even closer, his forehead touching yours.

"I promise." - He whispers. And this time you believe him.

Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, your feelings had their peaks and troughs, but they were always on the horizon. You could get lost in each other, disappear, losing light, but you came back, blooming with new colors.

Because your love is like the sky itself. Eternal. Unpredictable. And worth waiting for.

[chleem]

Flashing lights prologue

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping, (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy/translate my work!

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter 1 | index

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Talk about a scandal. 

‘Drew Starkey, rising star from OBX, impregnates girl and refuses to take responsibility.’ ‘Drew Starkey impregnates girl and forces her for an abortion.’ ‘All to know about OBX star that SA a girl.’

Even an interview starring a random girl that claims to be pregnant with Drew’s child. 

If Drew knew going to the club a week ago would cause such big damage to his career, he would have never stop foot in there. But being stubborn and a sucker for fun, he just needed the relaxation that clubbing would offer. 

His PR manager Henry, who Drew’s only sees once a year, is surprisingly quiet. He sits across Drew, staring at his laptop. His typing makes up for the quiet and tense (at least for Drew) atmosphere in his manager’s office. 

“I’m sorry,” Drew starts, genuinely, his eyes shifting between his manager Jeff and Henry. “Look, I don’t know who that woman is. She’s lying, alright? I didn’t even talk to any strangers last night. Just my friends. And I was careful with how much I drank-”

“Calm down, we didn’t accuse you of it,” Jeff chuckles, also surprisingly calm and not scolding Drew. Normally, Jeff would scold Drew so hard that it took Drew back to the days of being coached by his dad. “I’ve worked with you for almost ten years, I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Hold up. Was this a dream? He fucked up real bad, why were his managers so forgiving? So… calm? This felt way too strange. They should be furious right now, thinking of a solution and threatening to kill Drew. So why were they so gentle with this situation?

Drew adjusts his hat, pocking his tongue against his cheek. Without thinking, he simply says, “What?”

Jeff glances at Henry, who nods, looking up from his laptop. Drew furrows his eyebrows at Jeff, who simply looks away as Henry starts. “Fine, Drew. We’re all fucking pissed at your mistake. Do you know how many sponsors have asked to break up your contract? Even after we’ve came up with a clean statement? For fuck’s sake, Drew. You’re fucking thirty now, and you still act like a fucking child!”

Drew licks his lips looking away. Okay, this was the Henry he saw yelling at other artists, and what he expected when he walked into the office this morning. But now that he was yelling at him, it felt horrible still. After all, who likes to be yelled at? 

“I’ve had to pull multiple strings to help you, to clear your name up. So you better hope this is your last mistake,” Henry continues. 

Drew couldn’t help but ask, “what did you do?”

“We’ve come up with a plan,” Henry says, walking over to the printer. He grabs the paper, taking a quick look before placing it on the table in front of Drew.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow, sensing something really strange. 

And he was right. On the top of the paper, it read, “Fake dating Proposal.”

What the fuck. He reads through the first sentence in his head, with widen eyes, “In order to save Drew Starkey’s career, he must conduct a year-long fake relationship with Y/n Y/l/n.”

He falls back in his seat. “You’re not fucking serious. This is the strings you had to pull? This is fucking ridiculous! How is this-“

“Drew!” Jeff yells, making him shut up. His face was slightly red, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Drew, trust us. We wouldn’t cause more harm. This, this will save your career, save you.”

“but out of anyone-“ Drew adjusts his hat once again. “Out of anyone, and you chose her?”

“She’s the best choice of right now, and the only one who even agreed. Drew. You’re not in the place of choosing. You sign, and you accept it. Or it’s the end.”

He couldn’t believe himself right now. Literally. Out of every solution, every person, it had to be you. You, the one person he can’t stand. You, the one person that gets him worked up and annoyed. It was like the end of the world for him. 

Worse, his manager seems to agree with this solution. As if he doesn’t know how much Drew despises you. Jeff places the pen next to Drew. “I hate to say this, but Drew, you’re screwed unless you do this. We see the vision, and in a few years, you’ll see it too. Just, just treat this as another acting class, okay?”

Do I have a choice anyways, he thinks. Drew rubs his face in annoyance. Fuck. Damn you and damn himself. Getting into this stupid situation in the first place. 

He looks at the contract again. Sees your name again. And his head hurts a thousand times worse than a hangover. 

He reads through the contract terms, cringing at it. 

‘Must show up at five or more public evens together.’

‘Must show PDA at public events, such as touching, holding hands, kissing etc.’

‘Y/n Y/l/n must talk sweetly about Drew Starkey, and steer away any negative comments.’

‘During the course of this fake-relationship, being seen with any other costar of the opposite sex is forbidden.’

Much more was listed, at least twenty terms were on this contract alone. So this is the real thing. 

And at the bottom, Drew sees what was offered. Wow. You get offered millions of dollars, while all Drew receives is a clear to his scandal. 

He should at least get half the amount you’re earning, considering that he has to put up with you. “How can she get so much cash?” Drew asks, curiosity killing him. 

“Because she’s got nothing to gain from being with you,” Jeff states matter-of-factly, that hurt Drew’s ego more than it should have. He also noticed how much money this was, almost all the money he earned from acting in OBX. Wow. So not only were you a moody bitch, but a greedy one as well. 

Drew rubs his eyes aggressively, a frustrated yawn coming out. He so is going to regret this. The worst decision he ever has to make. 

You better be the savior to his career, or he was going to kill himself. 

Drew signs, pushing the paper away as if it had some kind of disease. 

Henry forces a smile, grabbing the paper. Drew gets ready to leave, but Henry stops him. “Where are you going?”

“Home. I- that was enough for me.”

“No, no. You’re going to Y/n’s filming set.”

“What?”

“Yes, you heard me. Her manager gave the green light, so you’re going.”

“Fuck, it’s only like, a minute since I signed.”

“Hey, I’m saving you right now,” Henry says. “Now, you want your sponsors back or not?”

Drew curses under his breath, never wanting to punch a wall as much as right now. “Fine. I'll go. But I can’t promise that I’m hugging or touching her or anything. She’s a complete stranger to me.”

“We just need a couple of photos to leak out,” Jeff says, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll drive you there.”

“Fucking hate you Jeff,” Drew says, walking out the office. “Henry you asshole.”

Either his managers heard and said whatever, or they didn’t care. But cursing at people who's helping him ‘save’ his career was the least of his worries. His head is just consumed with meeting you again, the brattiest bitch he's ever known.

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

word count: 1.2k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i'm sooo happy for the support and how much people liked the teaser! i was giggling seeing the reblogs and likes.

anyways, thought i should release a prologue first, to give drew's pov of this situation. apologies in advance for y/n's character and anyone who can't handle her! but i'm so excited for you guys to read ch1, which will be released later this week! like or comment to show support, really appreciate it <3

other | index | ch1

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter fifteen: The Game, The Silence, and The Weight of the World

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 15 | next

Series Masterlist

The television flickered with muted violence as players in the arena scurried between barriers, their bodies moving with the desperation of those who knew that one misstep could mean the end. The air outside was thick with the promise of the storm, but inside the office, it was almost eerily calm. The hum of the screen and the occasional rustle of papers were the only sounds, and even those felt muted, distant, as though the world outside the walls of this small room had been left behind.

In-ho stood by the television, his body rigid, his eyes focused on the screen. He wasn’t really watching. Not anymore. His posture was tense, his hands behind his back, fingers slightly curled as if holding onto something that wasn’t there. He was always so controlled, so perfectly composed. But you could sense the weight he carried, the pressure of it all, buried beneath the mask of indifference he wore so well.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sleek black leather couch, the coolness of the material making you feel small against the vastness of the space. The luxurious, yet sterile, surroundings were a constant reminder of how trapped you both were—how the game played out beyond the walls of the office, and how, in a way, you were trapped in your own little game here, too. It didn’t matter that you weren’t out there in the arena. You were still part of it.

There was a question bubbling at the back of your throat—something you didn’t know if you wanted to ask, but it needed to be asked. You had spent days avoiding it, but you knew it was always there, like an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

“You still don’t sleep much, do you?” In-ho’s voice broke through, its low, measured tone drawing your attention. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could feel the weight of his words, the carefulness with which he said them. It was as though he was testing the waters—seeing if you would give him something, anything, to go on.

You hesitated before answering, unsure of what you were ready to admit. His eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, but long enough for you to feel the weight of his gaze, the way it searched you, studying you with that intensity only he seemed capable of. But it wasn’t the usual cold calculation. There was something… softer in it. Just a flicker, barely perceptible, but it was there.

“No,” you said quietly. “I guess I haven’t gotten used to it.”

He didn’t respond right away, and you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing. But before you could second-guess yourself, he spoke again.

“It never gets easier,” he said, his voice quieter this time, as though the words themselves carried a kind of weight that he wasn’t used to bearing. “You just… learn to block it out. Pretend it doesn’t affect you. But it always does. No matter how many times you see it.” With that he turned to face you. He stepped towards the couch to sit next to you.

You looked at him, the faintest flicker of understanding passing between you both. He wasn’t talking about the players. He was talking about himself. The man who ran this nightmare, who orchestrated it all from behind the scenes, he had to block it out too. And, somehow, that realization made it all the harder to bear.

A quiet, heavy silence fell over the room again. The game played on, the sounds of it muted by the soundproof walls, but you could feel the tension in the air like it was pressing down on your chest. You hadn’t been able to escape it. Not once. And neither had he.

“I still don’t understand why you do it,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure if you were asking him to explain, or if you were simply voicing a question that had haunted you since you first arrived.

In-ho’s jaw tightened slightly, his posture stiffening as if your question had struck too close to something. His gaze never left the screen, but you could see the slight clench of his fists beneath his jacket sleeves, the subtle shift in his shoulders.

“I do what I have to do,” he said, his voice even, devoid of emotion. “It’s not about why anymore. It’s just… what’s needed.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you understood. You didn’t think you would ever understand. How could you? How could anyone? But you knew that it didn’t matter what you understood. He had made his choice long ago—whether or not it was one he had wanted to make was another matter entirely.

There was a long pause as you both sat in silence, the only sound in the room, the faint hum of the television and the distant thunder of the storm outside. The tension between you two was thick, but neither of you said a word. Not yet.

And then, almost imperceptibly, something shifted.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but before you knew it, your fingers brushed lightly against his. It was a brief, accidental touch, but you both froze. The contact was electric, like a spark igniting something that had been lying dormant for far too long. It wasn’t a touch filled with intention, but it was enough to make your heart race, enough to make you aware of his presence in a way that you hadn’t been before.

And then, without thinking—without even fully realizing what you were doing—you let your pinkie finger curl gently against his. It wasn’t a strong grip, but it was there. A connection, fragile and fleeting, but undeniable.

You expected him to pull away. To draw back, to retreat into the distance that always seemed to keep you both apart. But he didn’t.

In fact, his finger shifted ever so slightly, locking around yours. It was as though he had made the conscious decision not to pull away. And you didn’t pull back either. You just stayed there, the two of you, pinkies entwined, the warmth of his hand seeping into yours. It was a strange, quiet moment—one that spoke volumes without either of you saying a word.

The moment lingered. For a second, you thought about pulling away, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to. The connection was so simple, so raw, so real, and you found yourself leaning into it. It wasn’t the kind of connection you had expected to find here, in this place of violence and brokenness. But it was there. Silent, but real. The weight of the game, the weight of the complex, the weight of everything that had come before—it all seemed to fade into the background, just for a moment.

Then, after a long beat, In-ho finally sat a little closer to you, the leather squeaking faintly under his weight. You watched, almost in slow motion, as he moved himself closer beside you. His body seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second before he settled in, but the space between you didn’t feel as far as it had been before. He didn’t sit immediately close to you, but his proximity was unmistakable. The subtle movement of him next to you made the room feel different; it was closer, warmer.

The space between you now felt smaller, more personal, more intimate. He didn’t seem to be pulling away, either, which surprised you. He had always kept such distance—his walls as solid as the fortress he’d built around himself. But now, sitting beside you, his presence was quiet, a gentle weight against the quiet hum of the room.

He didn’t speak immediately, and you didn’t either. There was something unspoken in the way his body had shifted next to yours—an agreement of sorts that neither of you had to verbalize. The air between you both seemed charged now, a quiet energy settling in as his gaze flicked to the screen. He was still locked in, but you could see that his focus had shifted ever so slightly, a fraction of his attention now diverted to the connection between the two of you.

“You’re safe here,” he said, his voice low and steady, as though he were offering this truth in the most vulnerable way he knew how. You could sense the weight behind the words, the sincerity hidden beneath his usual calm exterior.

You turned to him, surprised by the softness in his tone, and met his gaze. For the first time, there was no coldness in his eyes, no distance—just something quiet, something unspoken, something that didn’t need to be said aloud.

“I know,” you whispered, and you realized it was true. In that moment, you felt something shift in your chest. It wasn’t the usual tension, the constant gnawing fear. It was something gentler. The connection between you, the pinky lock, the quiet way he sat beside you—it was enough.

For the first time, you didn’t feel alone in this place.

———————

Chapter fifteen!! Woo!! Lemme know what you think! Thank you!

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[cllightning81]

Set Up [CL16]

Summary: You meet Daniel Ricciardo at a Red Bull athlete sponsor event and become friends. When you finally accept his offer to go to a Grand Prix, he sets you up on a date with a fellow driver.

Pairing/s: Daniel Ricciardo x Australian!Red Bull Athlete!Reader (Platonic), Charles Leclerc x Australian!Red Bull Athlete! Reader

A/N: Had the idea that the reader is a speed skater because why not. However there's only one slight mention of that at the end so you can imagine the reader to be any athlete.

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist Charles Leclerc Masterlist Tag List Coming Soon

Public events were always the worst, but that came with being an athlete for Red Bull. It was yet another one of their sponsor events that all athletes had to attend so here you were in a fancy black tie dress surrounded by lots of sponsors and lots of other athletes that also probably didn’t want to be there. 

The dark blue dress hugged your figure in just all the places that it needed to. Accepting a flute of champagne from the server walking around the room, you settled down at your table in front of your name place. Looking at the names around the rest of the table ,you sighed as you didn’t recognise any of them. 

Ten minutes later, people started sitting around the table. The names on the table help you find out their names without having to have an awkward conversation. Scotty James was the first person to sit down. Now that you’d seen his face, you knew who he was. You’d spoken to him a few times at past events. 

“Oh hey Y/N” He smiled, and you looked over 

“Evening Scotty. No wife this time?” You asked, and he shook his head 

“No, she's at home. Wasn’t interested in another one of these events” You nodded while taking a drink of champagne. More people started to sit down, and throughout the night, you started hitting it off with Daniel Ricciardo.

~~~

A few months after the event, Daniel had invited you to watch a Grand Prix after staying in touch. Being a Red Bull athlete meant that cameras were on you from the second you walked into the paddock. Daniel is waiting at the side for you with his signature smile 

“Y/N L/N” He cheered, holding out the syllables as he walked over. You smiled, giving him a hug 

“Daniel Ricciardo” You laughed while walking with him. 

“So I’ve been thinking” Daniel hummed, and you turned your head to look at him 

“That’s not a good thing” You joked, and he rolled his eyes 

“You were complaining the other day that you saw some tyres getting more attention than you have recently, but I came up with a plan” You raised an eyebrow, looking at him

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea, and I don’t even know what it is” You muttered, and he laughed 

“I’ve got a friend. He’s also a driver, but he’s also very single, and I think you’d be a perfect match together” He explained 

“I am not going out with Lando Norris” You warned, and he laughed 

“No it’s not Lando” He shook his head

“You got Max and Kelly to break up?” You joked, and he rolled his eyes, walking into the garage with you 

“I did not. Do you trust me, though?” He asked, and you looked at him sceptically 

“Not really no” You shrugged 

“Never mind I’ll take my date back then” You rolled your eyes 

“Who’s this date with then?” You asked 

“You’ll see. You don’t happen to have that dress from the night we met, do you?” He asked 

“No, not in Monaco” You shook your head 

“Do you have any like that in Monaco?” He asked 

“Kinda? I’ve got a red version of it. Well it’s not similar in any way, but I’ve got a red long dress in my apartment. But the blue one’s back in Melbourne” You shrugged 

“Wear the red dress then. You’ll be picked up at seven tonight. That’s all I’m saying” 

“You don’t even know where I stay?” You frowned 

“I was hoping you’d tell me that detail” You laughed, shaking your head. 

And so at seven o’clock there was a knock on your apartment door. You grabbed your purse, walking over to the door and pulled it open to see the person you least expected standing at your door. Neither of you said anything as you just looked at each other. 

“Woah” He mumbled, causing you to smile slightly 

“Woah yourself” You hummed 

“You know, when Daniel said he was setting me up, I didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t you” He smiled. 

“I could say the same thing Charles” You smiled, taking his hand as he held it out for you. You walked down to his Ferrari with him. Smiles covering your faces as he helped you into the car. 

“So where are we going tonight, Mr Leclerc?” You asked as he got into the car as well. 

“Well I obviously had to find somewhere for both our diets, but there’s a little restaurant that I quite like next to the harbour, so I figured we could go there?” He suggested, and you nodded 

“That sounds like a good plan” You smiled, looking over at him before turning to look out the window at the views that were passing. When arriving at the restaurant, Charles got out of the car first before rushing around to help you out. Passing the keys off to a member of staff that would park the car safely for him. 

Getting seated was easy. Charles had made reservations asking to be hidden in the back of the restaurant so that you could enjoy yourself without having to have fans asking either of you for autographs or pictures every couple of minutes. Or the worst thing. Fans taking pictures without you realising getting the worst angles. You both ordered your drinks and food, opting for non-alcoholic drinks not even because Charles was driving but because your diets didn’t really allow alcohol. 

“So why Monaco?” Charles asked 

“I’m actually only here on holiday. I live in the UK” You confessed, and he nodded 

“Why Monaco for a holiday then?” He chuckled, and you smiled 

“Daniel invited me to the Grand Prix and after meeting him at a Red Bull athlete event. I actually got into the sport, so when he offered, I couldn’t say no. I’d like to end up retiring in Monaco, though. Sell both of my houses and just live here” You explained and he nodded

“It’s lovely here. Although I may be a little biassed but oh well” You let out a laugh 

“So you’ve got a house in the UK, but where’s your other?” He asked, leaning back in the chair 

“Melbourne obviously” You laughed, and he nodded

“Should have seen that coming” You nodded 

“Let me guess. House in Monaco and house in Italy” You guessed 

“Spot on. Hotels everywhere else” He nodded, and you chuckled. The conversation flowed easily about your different training and different lifestyles but also things that you had in common. 

“I’ve always wanted a dog but with all these competitions and travelling it just never felt right but when I retire in Monaco the first thing I do except find a home is get a dog” You nodded and he chuckled 

“Just out of curiosity, what kind of age do people in your sport retire?” He asked, tilting his head a little 

“I’ve got about a year left realistically, but I’m aiming to reach the 2026 winter olympics before I retire” You sighed 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to ask it like that” He winced a little, and you shook your head 

“No, it wasn’t you. Don’t worry. I just hate that I had to pick a sport that requires such early retirement. I love skating, and I think I’ll always skate, and obviously, going at speed is very enjoyable” You both laughed at the statement 

“Maybe we should sign you up for a hot lap. See how you enjoy our kind of fast” You smiled 

“I would very much enjoy that. I know for a fact you go about two hundred miles an hour faster than I do” You chuckled, and he frowned 

“How fast do you go?” He asked, and you shrugged

“About thirty-five miles an hour? Roughly. Give or take depends on the day, where I’m competing, and who I’m competing against” You shrugged as his eyes widened

“Seriously?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Deadly” You smiled 

“Maybe I’ll have to come watch you work one day” He smiled, and you tilted your head

“That would be so much fun getting you on the ice with me” 

And so you did. During the break between a couple of races, you got Charles onto an ice rink and skating with you. He wasn’t enjoying it as much as you were, but it made for a great second official date. Something you’d never tell Daniel just yet.

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[absolute-flaming-trash]

Been a hot minute, my friends, and I'm sorry for that.

This is something that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit and with how long it's been taking me to get other work out, I figured why not even if I'm not fully pleased with it.

I hope you enjoy regardless 💛

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 910

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced relationship, Murder (mentioned)

Please be nice, I don't write for this man often

“May I ask you something?”

It was a simple question, but one you regretted the moment it left your lips because of how it silenced the room.

Gone was the soft scratching of pen against paper as Chrollo looked toward your seated position, his expression thankfully that of neutrality mixed with a hint of slight intrigue.

You swallowed and looked down at your lap. Better than annoyance, you supposed.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, and I have to ask...” Your fingers picked at the frayed ends of the couch while your graze returned to his. “Why me?”

He arched a brow, amusement creeping into his eyes. “Why you?”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Yes.” You replied with a little more conviction in your own tone this time. “Surely keeping one person alive when the rest were doomed to die is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Are you saying that you would’ve preferred to have shared the same fate as the rest of your fellow party go-ers?”

Your cringe followed by a beat of silence was more than enough of an answer, but you felt obligated to continue since you were the one who started this conversation in the first place.

“...No.” Your teeth found your bottom lip while you tried to gather your thoughts in a way you hoped would make sense, all while pushing the memory of the fundraiser-turned-bloodbath out of your mind. “I’m saying I don’t understand.”

Chrollo leaned back in his own seat, still looking directly at you. “You’re here to keep the police from doing anything foolish.”

“I know that!” The frustration in your chest made itself known. “But you could have taken anybody. One of the sponsors of the damn thing, or even some other random woman, yet you kept me alive. I want to know your reasoning for it.”

He didn’t seem upset by your outburst, if anything it just served to increase his growing interest in the conversation.

Likely because these were the most words you had ever spoken to him at a given time.

Bastard.

“I liked you.”

Such a simple answer, and one you did not expect from someone who typically played their cards so close to the chest. It threw you off whatever balance you mentally had, and you recovered with a scoff.

“You liked me?”

“Yes.”

A twitch went through your eye when he didn’t expand on that - the sound of pen on paper filling up the room once more. You refused to let the conversation die there.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was a lie, but one you were willing to risk if it meant bringing the topic back to life, and boy did it work.

Not only did he stop writing, he set the pen down on the desk in front of him and turned his whole body to face you. “Oh?”

Shit.

“I mean, I don’t know how you could decide using something like that in a situation that was such a spur of the moment.”

“What makes you think any of what I do is ‘spur of the moment’?”

That made you pause. He had a point there. In the short time that you knew him, he had proved himself to be anything but impulsive…

Your temples throbbed with a quickly encroaching headache.

“If it wasn’t, then what? Your choice was made before the bloodshed started?”

The words were spoken sarcastically, but you had no idea just how right you were until you saw his expression change from amused neutrality to one of…

Come to think of it, you had no idea what to call the look on his face. Admiration came closest to mind, but that didn’t feel right.

“You catch on fast, well done.”

You made a face, not a fan of the condescending tone. “So, what? If I’m not sacrificed to the cops in a hail of bullets, you’re going to keep me as some kind of pet?”

Amusement crept back onto his face. “Is that what you think?”

“If it is, I hope you know I’ll fight that with every fiber in my being.”

He hummed lowly, your promise of violence completely brushed to the side. “As intriguing as the notion is, I have no intention of doing such a thing to you.”

“Then what do you intend to do?”

A small smile appeared on his face, but he didn’t answer, allowing you a moment to draw your own conclusions.

When you did, you frowned.

“Not a chance.”

“Why?”

You gave him an indignant look. “You can’t seriously expect me to willingly be with you after everything that has happened.”

“I don’t, hence your current circumstances.”

Silence filled the air again after that. A nice reminder that whatever outcome you could’ve hoped for during this exchange, you were doomed to lose regardless.

All you could do was shake your head in malcontent and pick at the frayed ends of the couch again, unable to come up with anything further to say.

More amusement flickered across his face. “You do not wish to be my pet, nor to be my lover.” He sat back ever so slightly in his chair. “Tell me then, what do you wish to be?”

“Free.” You replied without a sliver of hesitation, locking eyes again with him once more. “But we both know that will never happen, will it?”

Chrollo threatened to genuinely smile at your answer and he shook his head once.

“No. It won’t.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.  

[bonesandchalamet]

from the shining lights, to the sandy beaches, I’ll only love you — p.mellark

masterlist | pairing: peeta mellark x fem!reader

summary: bored and facing the capitol, you give the citizens of panem some drama to spice up the games

warnings: slight mentions of 18+ ideas but nothing graphic + mentions of insecurity

hours you think. it had to have been hours layered laying in woven grass blankets with flattened bread in your pockets that’s sure to be moldy soon from the moisture.

“how long have I been out?” a grunt escapes your lips to signal your awakening to them. you attempt to sit upward, but your hands were badly blistered and your arms were weak.

peeta lunged into the makeshift tent, he gently lays you back down shushing you to not worry about taking the next shift. after all, you’d been the one to trip over rocks in the acid rain, if anyone should get sleep it’s Finnick who carried you like it was nothing.

Finnick. sweet, sexy, district four, Finnick odair. the man women are obsessed with, and you could see why. his beautiful blue eyes and cocky smile, if it weren’t for the baker beside you, you’d be all over that fine man.

there was nothing wrong with peeta. his tenderness, the warmth he provides, he was an amazing boyfriend. but the ever thought of another man seemed to spark a load of questions piling up in your brain.

the storm had been out for awhile now, leaving you with some time of peace. you flip onto your left side, facing peeta, a wicked smile lifts your lips that he can’t even read. but it gives him something to laugh at in this place, “what’s your problem?”

“if you could fuck someone in the capitol would you do it? someone dressed like Effie?”

finnick makes a repulsive noise. hes had a fair share of capitol women, and even the sight of Effie was enough for him. having ran into her with zero makeup on, and nothing but a wig, Finnick odair would rather steer clear of any women from the capitol.

“I’d really prefer we think about our game plan—“

“it’s a simple question.” johanna finally wakes, she sits up carefully, her voice draws finnicks attention briefly from looking out.

sweat thickens above his upper lips. peeta knows there’s a correct answer. being in love with you, he’d never thought of another woman, so why would you ask? he can only imagine to lighten the mood, lift the spirits of the citizens watching in boredom, so he thinks it’s not harmful to play along?

“I’ve only ever wanted intimate moments with you.” peeta extends out his hand, the roughness of his palm touching your cheek, “you know I only love you.”

“this is such a yawn.” Johanna counters, she eagerly sits forward breaking the moment, “not a single woman caught your eye on the tour? you’re going to die anyway, might as well admit it.”

peeta let’s out a light laugh, and you know he’s serious. he’s only ever had eyes for you, but to Johanna, Finnick, haymitch, and potential sponsors, he needs to play in. he needs to draw them something, so he does what he’s a natural at; story telling.

“well there was a girl,” he pauses, eyes swiftly glancing at you before back at johanna, “hard to tell how old she was under those capitol lights, but she just kept following me. every room she was there, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off her.” he looks up the makeshift tent, a sadden glow casts across his face, “I wonder if I’ll see her again.”

you can’t quite remember a woman who followed him in every room besides yourself. maybe that’s who he was discussing? but he’d bought Finnick and Johanna’s approval leaving peeta to slip out the tent.

“what about you, y/n? sleep with a capitol or finnick?”

finnicks head snaps his head in the direction of his name, a spark lights in him earning a bright cocky smile, “I don’t bite, babe.”

it’s your turn to make a repulsive noise, but you know everyone at home is inching closer to their screens: would you screw around with Finnick for a night? or would you dare head back to the capitol? Finnick it is.

“just for a night,” you pause taking a long look at peeta. he’s fixated his eyes on something with the sand, probably just to occupy his mind from this conversation that’ll haunt his last memories with you, “I’d do Finnick, on the count that peeta can be there.”

“a threesome?” Finnicks words echo across the sandy beaches practically giving away your hiding spot, “I’m not sure I’ve ever done that.”

“I’d pay to be a fly on the wall of that night.” Johanna grins.

“I’ll pass. I don’t think I’d well with sharing.” Peeta blurts out.

a wide grin takes hold of Johanna’s face, yours is covered in a deep red blush that you’re thankful no one can make out in the darkness.

“peeta, possessive? never would’ve thought of that.”

it’s a shock to everyone, even you. peeta never showed any care that you were close to other guys, like Finnick or even beetee, but maybe it’s because he always knew you’d come back to him. he always knew it was him you’d love and swear you’d never leave. it must be the insecure feeling that if you saw what Finnick had, you’d leave.

to answer his worries, you wrap your arms around peetas neck and press a long kiss to his lips, “I kind of like it.”

“I’d rather sleep with haymitch than either one of you lovebirds.” finnick answers johannas question that was slightly forgotten from you three in the tent.

“come on, it’s my turn to watch.” johanna crawls out the tent, and for a second it’s just you two alone. you slip beside him, resting your head against his bicep, “who was the girl from the capitol?” you whisper.

a smile lifts to his lips, his shoulder slightly budges you to sit up, “who do you think?”

it was you. only you.

[filmbyjy]

MINESTREAM

SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.

FOURTY-FOUR – we’re okay now

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

italics is them speaking in japanese

a/n: this is going to be a slightly long read. not a super long but definitely the longest written chapter I’ve done for this smau. trigger warning (no pun intended): there is mentions of guns

you blinked once, the white light right above you was practically beaming. it causes you to blink a couple more times to adjust to the lighting. once you fully focus, you realised that you weren’t at home. you turned your head to the side and noticed ni-ki was laying his head on the white mattress. his hand holding yours tightly, like you were going to disappear.

ni-ki stirs in his sleep, he groans and slowly sits up. once he realises that you’re awake, he stands up and throws himself onto you. giving you a bone crushing hug.

“oneechan.” his voice was soft, you could hear a little crack in his voice like he was going to cry.

“riki, what’s wrong? i just fainted, little baby.” you pat his back slowly and it only makes ni-ki hold you tighter.

“you worried me. you are my only family here in seoul. mom and dad can’t even come here.”

“yvette and heeseung are here. i’m not your only family.”

“you know what i mean, oneechan.”

you laughed a little, “yes, riki. i know.” ni-ki pulls back from the hug. “where are the others?”

“yvette-chan and heeseung-kun went to buy some lunch.” just as ni-ki finishes his words, the ward door opens.

yvette gasps and she runs over to hug you. “my precious girl, you’re finally awake. you missed lunch and dinner.”

“how long was i out for?”

“about 8 hours? or more?” heeseung says.

“we tossed the flowers out. jungwon and sunoo took a sample piece and are testing things out in their little ‘makeshift’ lab.” yvette explains.

“why do they have a lab?”

“jay hyung is sponsoring them.” ni-ki says.

“but…why though?” you say in confusion.

“don’t question it, they’re in their ‘detective era’ as what they said.” yvette says.

ni-ki shrugs, he snatches the food from heeseung and goes over to the empty chair next to you. “let’s share this, you need all the good food. you’re too thin.” ni-ki pats your head.

“i am not sk-” ni-ki shoves the curly fries into your hand.

“you deserve it.”

you looked in between heeseung, yvette and ni-ki before sighing and grabbing a curly fries. ni-ki snaps a photo of you eating and send it to jay. as for jay, he was busy panicking in his seat as the bus drove them back to the campus. jake smacks jay’s thigh.

“stop it. she’s going to be fine.” jake glares at jay. jay sighs.

“i’m sorry, i just- i’m just worried about her. what if there is some problems. the last time ni-ki texted me, she was still asleep. it’s been 8 hours since then.”

ping!

jay rushes to check his phone. he notices the photo of you eating some curly fries and in a hospital gown.

‘she’s awake, you don’t have to worry hyung.’

jay sighs in relief, he finally settles down on his seat. jake pats the boy’s shoulder.

“she’s awake now. you can get some proper rest. you haven’t slept at all and i know you love sleeping. ni-ki, heeseung hyung and yvette noona are watching her. sunoo and jungwon are doing their little research things so you don’t have to worry.” jake reassures jay.

jay huffs, “okay. i’ll get some rest.” as jay shuts his eyes, there was some smooching sounds behind them and so jake throws an empty plastic bottle at sunghoon.

“shut the fuck up, sunghoon.” jake whispers. sunghoon glares at jake.

“can’t i kiss my girlfriend?”

“makeout in your room when we get back. jay hasn’t slept last night because he was busy worrying about (name). you wouldn’t know because you snuck out to sleep in Nari’s room!”

sunghoon frowns, “fine.” he pecks Nari cheek once and looks out the window. nari sighs.

“sorry, jake.” those innocent eyes.

jake groans, “don’t- oh my god, i see why sunghoon cracks whenever he sees you. you are too adorable for this world. fucking hell, i miss my girlfriend.” he turns around and settles at his seat. he starts to spam lily on his phone.

nari innocently tilts her head in confusion. “hoonie, did i do something wrong?”

“no, baby. you did nothing wrong. jake just misses his girl.”

“you know…maybe we should find a way to let jake visit lily.” nari suggests.

sunghoon notices jake typing to lily. the series of ‘i miss you’ ‘wish you were here’ ‘my heart is incomplete without you’ texts that sunghoon read through the crack in between the seats, it was depressing.

“yeah, let’s talk to yvette about this.” nari smiles and sunghoon pecks her forehead. he mutters a small little ‘i love you’ to her and she lays her head on his shoulder.

jungwon and sunoo burst through the door of the ward with a loud bang. the nurse spins around as she hands you the medicine you were supposed to take. they bow slightly to the nurse as she leaves while glaring at the two boys.

“why did you two burst through the doors like that?” yvette says.

“we found more evidence! sunoo hyung tell them what happened.”

“so i was snooping around and possibly hacked into kaito’s dad’s company database. this dumbass kept all the evidence in a singular folder. all the way from tax fraud to embezzlement. it’s actually insane because the numbers in the account just went from like 10,000 to 10,000,000 real quick.” sunoo explains.

“in won…or.”

“USD. look!” sunoo shows the pdf file that he downloaded. all the different years of bank statements.

“this is perfect but this would only land kaito’s dad in jail. what about that…thing.” yvette says.

“jungwon found some criminal offences and reports made against him. turns out he was a creep and has always been one. he likes to stalk girls, loves being a creep and was very abusive to his exes.”

“holy shit. this is great. we just need to report this to the police and have him deported and in jail!” heeseung says.

“problem is….kaito is off the grid. we have no idea where he is.” jungwon says.

“what do you mean…” you bit your lips nervously.

“he just disappeared. i think he’s about to do something again…which is not good.”

ni-ki stands up, “i am not letting him strike again. he may be one step ahead but we can always be two steps ahead of him. we just need to think like him for a bit and predict his next moves.”

the room falls silent. everyone thought of various ways that kaito could go about his next moves.

“since he already hurt (name) in a way…wouldn’t he go for jay next?” heeseung says.

“that’s possible.”

“aren’t they on the school bus right now?” you asked.

“yeah.”

you had sat up, ready to move out of the bed. ni-ki stops you.

“no, you need to rest.”

“i had enough rest. i’ve been out for 8 hours and it’s not like i was physically harmed. i just fainted. we have to get to campus now and check the bus if it’s fine or not.”

“how about me and yvette go there. ni-ki, how about you settle the hospital stuff for (name) and come with her later on after you get a the green light from the doctor? jungwon and sunoo can you make sure the 02z are fine? like call them or something?” heeseung says.

“on it hyung.” jungwon and sunoo called jake. heeseung and yvette went to the campus.

the bus halts pretty hard. everyone in the bus was flung in their seats. jake’s phone rings and so he picks it up confused as to why sunoo was calling him.

“yo, what’s up?”

“anything happened on your trip back from the camp?”

“not really? the bus did stop pretty hard right now.”

there was small cusses from sunoo, he passes the phone to jungwon. “hyung, where are you guys now? like spot a prominent landmark in the area.”

“uh, i see a scarecrow and large fields? why are you asking me this-” jake’s voice dies down when he sees someone holding a gun. “holy fuck.”

“what? what?”

“it’s kaito…”

“oh fuck.” jungwon says.

“oh fuck indeed. everyone is cowering in fear in their seats. kaito doesn’t see us yet. i need to wake jay up. he’s asleep right now.”

“okay, wait. sunoo hyung is calling the cops. send us your location now.”

“fuck, okay-” jake ends the call and sends his location to sunoo.

“jake, we have to do something about this. this isn’t even supposed to happen…how did kaito get a gun through the borders of korea…” sunghoon whispers to jake.

“i have no idea but sunoo is calling the cops right now. we need to wake jay up.”

“or we could kick that thing’s ass.” sunghoon suggests.

“you’re right but he has a gun.”

“two people are better than one.”

“how about three?” jay says with eyes shut. jake turns to look at jay.

“you weren’t asleep??”

“woke up when you two started whispering. pretend to be asleep. i have a plan.”

“at least tell us your plan?” sunghoon says.

“just pretend to fall asleep. i’ll start counting down and you two follow what i do.” jay explains. jake and sunghoon pretend to fall asleep.

kaito comes closer their seats. he points the gun at jay and slowly walks up to him. just as he was about to shoot, jay kicks him. he falls to the small staircase of the bus.

“open the door, quick!” jay tells jake. jake runs towards the front of the bus and clicks the button, all while jay wrestles kaito. jay pushes kaito out of the bus and sunghoon follows behind tackling him too.

“sunghoon!” nari yells. “be careful!”

“don’t worry, babe. i have everything under control.” just as sunghoon says so, kaito fires the gun in the air. their eyes widened as the witnessed it hitting the side of the bus. “okay, i do not have everything under control.” nari sighs. she runs down the steps and kicks the gun out from kaito’s hand. he groans in pain.

“stupid. attempting to hurt my friend and everyone here.” she steps on his hand. “hope you get punished for your sins in prison. let them cut your hand off so you suffer for eternity in a fucking 4x4 jail cell!”

jay eyes widened, “where did you learn japanese?”

“i took classes in high school but that’s besides the point, where are the cops and please check if everyone inside is safe.” nari says.

“that’s the first time i’ve heard her mutter more than 10 words.” jake says. nari glares at jake and jake flinches. he quickly goes to check if everyone was alright. the police sirens were blasting, coming closer.

kaito struggles in sunghoon and jay’s hold.

“stay still unless you want me to step on your hand again.” nari says. kaito continues to struggle and nari steps on his hand, putting pressure on it.

“okay! okay! please, i beg you. it hurts!” kaito groans. nari stops.

the policemen quickly left their car, they went over to jay and sunghoon. a few of them went up on the bus to make sure everyone was okay and 2 of them picked kaito off the ground. they held him tight so he wouldn’t be able to run away. they led him into the car and shoved him inside.

“we’ll bring him to the police station for questioning and also arrest him. we need one of you or maybe 2 of you to tell us what exactly happened and then we’ll file a report.” the police officer explains.

jake, sunghoon and nari went to follow the police officer into the car. an ambulance comes by and makes sure everyone else was okay. they even arranged another transport so that everyone got home safe. finally, they arrived at the campus. everyone wasn’t doing all too well (considering the incident that happened). jay hops off the bus, he goes to grab his bag, along with sunghoon, jake and nari’s. suddenly, he was pulled into a hug, a tiny figure hugging him tightly and he knew who it was.

“baby.” there were sniffles coming from you. he pulls you back and sees that there were tears streaming down your face.

“you could’ve been shot. why did my life have to turn out like this? i should’ve been involved with you. if i hadn’t fall in love with your stupidly handsome face during a minecraft session then you would’ve have been nearly hurt!” you rambled and rambled. jay wipes the tears falling and tilts your head up.

“hey. i’m fine, aren’t i? i wasn’t harmed. you don’t have to blame yourself.” he bumps your nose against his. you sniffled.

“yeah but-”

“no buts. i’m fine and you are too. both of us are okay so we’re okay. it wasn’t your fault that son of a bitch was insane.” you pout. jay lightly flicks your forehead. “there is no way in hell am i breaking up with you over this. besides, who will take care of our two minecraft cats?”

you whined and buried your face onto his chest. you heard a small gagging sound coming from behind you.

“you two are being too sappy. it’s disgusting.” ni-ki says.

“agreed.” sunoo says.

“i second this.” jungwon adds.

just as ni-ki turns his head to look over at heeseung and yvette, he notices that yvette was patting heeseung’s head. heeseung pouts, his large bambi eyes on display as he tries to look cute and innocent to yvette. “okay, not as bad at heeseung hyung and yvette noona.”

everything was okay now. kaito was going to jail and your relationship was definitely going to take a huge turn after this.

this was perfect…

(well, maybe too perfect. we need more funny time)

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