#baggage cart

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[godofgrapes]

You know you’ve reached a threshold in DND when one of your party members buys a Belt of Giant Strength from an interplanar market.

[yutamayo]

Fellas, is it gay to-

Yes. Get a room.

[russellstyles]

...go with it...

Viscount Station, Mississauga, Ontario,Canada

[verfound]

MINIFIC: Oct. 23: Day 14: Mushroom (MLB, Lukanette, DLM AU)

For a brief moment – like the teeny tiniest of moments – I was considering the logistics of  getting Mason to France and really having fun with ‘mushrooms’.  It would have been very easy, actually, but…I couldn’t do that to Luka.  I already stuck him with Dingo.  😂

For @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers October Minific Challenge 2023.

Read on Ao3

To Feel Alive Again: Ch14: Mushroom

“…I’m hungry,” Marinette said about halfway through the second movie.  They had both agreed horror was…probably not the best option, and they had abandoned the DVDs to find something on a streaming service.  He hadn’t really complained when she’d pulled up Finding Nemo.  She hadn’t really crawled off of him yet, either, though her head was now resting on his shoulder instead of hiding in his chest.  She hadn’t said anything about it yet, though, so he wasn’t going to, either.  She peeked up at him, and he tried not to notice the way she was biting on her lip.  “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” he said.  “You brought popcorn, right?”

“I’m hungry,” she said.  “For food, not snacks.  Want a pizza?  I’ll buy.”

His nose wrinkled.

“I’m not a big fan of pizza,” he said.  Her eyebrows rose.

“Seriously?  Everybody loves pizza,” she said.  He chuckled and tugged on a pigtail.  He wasn’t sure when his arm had moved around her shoulders, or when he’d started playing with her hair, but she hadn’t asked him to stop, so…

“I used to deliver pizzas,” he said.  “When I was a kid.  It was a lifetime ago, and I actually loved that job, but it turned me off pizza for life.”

“My papa used to make the best pizzas,” she said, sighing.  “He grew his own toppings and everything.  There was one summer he went a bit crazy and grew like fifteen different types of mushrooms.  I don’t think I ate mushrooms for a year after that, but it was a pretty good pizza.”

“…ew,” Luka said, his nose wrinkling again.  “I hate mushrooms.”

“Seriously?” she laughed, and he shrugged.

“They grow in shit,” he said.  She laughed harder.

“Most things do,” she said.  “It’s called fertilizer and it’s really good for plants.”

“It’s called bacteria and it stinks,” he said.  She rolled her eyes and pushed away from him.  He tried to tell himself he didn’t miss her weight and warmth against him.

“Ok, then, monsieur,” she said, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch.  “What would you have me order, then?”

“…your ma’s Chinese, right?” he asked.  She nodded, but she looked confused.  “Any good Chinese places you won’t be personally offended by?”

She snorted and reached for her phone, pulling up a delivery app.

“Only if you order the crab Rangoon,” she snorted, looking up from phone.  “That’s not Chinese, Luka.”

“Ok, ok,” he laughed, stretching himself before pushing himself up from the couch.  “I need to hit the bathroom.  Order what you want.  Just, please, no mushrooms if you get pizza.”

He was down the hall and about to close the door on the bathroom when she called after him, and he almost smiled at the teasing note in her voice.

“Ok, no mushrooms – how do you feel about bananas?”

[emperornorton47]

Coffin for the road

[researchcompany]

Runway Baggage Cart Market Size, Share, and Forecast to 2031

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ACCESSAIR Systems

Avro GSE

Cartoo GSE

Clyde Machines

ERSEL TECHNOLOGY

FAB GMBH

ISCAR GSE

PINON France

Par-Kan Company

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3-Wheel Cart

4-Wheel Cart

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Civil Airport

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[themorbidjam]

Growing is knowing that setting boundaries is necessary and good, and when someone disrespects that boundary, let alone tramples all over it, to validate themselves, they’re not good for you.

Growing pains are losing relationships when you finally stand up for yourself and having to be okay with that loss that will only affect you. Because they were one sided and you were the beast of burden the whole time.

Healing is finally casting off that burden, forgiving yourself for not seeing the signs earlier, and finally letting what happened go.

[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 // 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Prodigy

Olympique Lyonnais x Teen!Reader

Summary: A slow morning at baggage claim

Two international youngsters are produced out of the Chelsea academy.

One goes to Spain and Barcelona. She plays striker.

The other goes to France and Lyon. You play centreback.

It seemed like fate that everyone would consider you rivals but you don't really care about that. You don't put much effort into looking through media articles.

You have better things to do.

"Hey, y/n! Come back here please!"

You huff, peeling off from Damaris and Ellie to head back to Ada and Wendie. You'd been sitting next to them for the whole flight from France to America.

"I don't want you to get lost. Hand, please."

"Come on!" You complain," I'm not as bad as-" You trail off. You don't say her name.

You think she must be a sore spot for the team after the three goals she scored past them in the Champion's League final. You were meant to be on the pitch that day too but during your last training session, you'd hurt your ankle and had to stay in France.

You give Ada your hand.

You live with her most of the time, although frequent sleepovers at Ellie and Daan's were a must. When Ada is stressed about things, you leave her to decompress by hanging out with Wendie, though you have to prepare yourself every time.

Your Papa is French and you've yet to decide what international team you want to play for. Wendie keeps trying to convince you to pick France.

It's kind of funny to see her try to sneak it into every conversation she can when you sleep over at hers.

Either way, Ada walks you through customs before setting you free in baggage collection.

You're off like a shot, eager to stretch your legs as Damaris and Selma race the luggage carts. Vanessa is on Selma's so you clamber onto Damaris' as she gets a run up and pushes you.

Ellie's acting as the ref and she narrows her eyes as both carts come to a stop.

"She's cheating!" You insist as Vanessa drags the cart forward using her hands. "Cheater!"

Ellie closes her eyes. "I don't see anything."

"Oh, come on!"

It's very early in the morning so there's no one else in the luggage claim, just your team.

You kind of assumed with no one else around that the bags would arrive quicker but clearly not.

You get bored of the game rather quickly and return to your older teammates.

Wendie, Ada and now Lindsey too are sitting on the floor, up against the wall as they wait for the bag carousel to start moving. You don't know who brought out the football but they did.

They're not using it though, just rolling it between them as you approach.

"Ellie's not a very good ref," You tell them," She's helping Vanessa and Selma cheat."

"Do you want to play with the ball?" Lindsey asks and you puff out your cheeks.

"I'm not a baby." You plop down next to her and she ruffles your hair.

"No but you don't do well not doing stuff and I know your phone is dead. Do you want the ball or not?"

You mumble something.

She grins, cupping her ear. "What was that?"

You mumble something again.

Ada and Wendie are grinning now too.

"Sorry. I couldn't hear. You'll have to speak a bit louder."

You glare at her and Wendie snatches the ball. "Go stand over there. Volley is back to me."

Wendie is a centreback. You're a centreback too.

You arrived from Chelsea fresh-faced and worried and Wendie decided you were her little project. She'd told you once, a little tipsy during a team bonding session, that you had the most raw talent she'd seen in a while and that she wanted to see you get better and better.

She trained you every second she could.

"Weaker foot this time," She says to you as you volley the ball back to her.

It's still early. The flight was long but you've suddenly got energy again so you can keep up with her coaching even as she gets up. She changes from throwing the ball at you to kicking it so soon you've both got a good volley going as Ada and Lindsey talk to each other.

"I didn't know Barcelona were doing their preseason here," Ada notes," I thought they'd be in Mexico."

You let the ball drop, turning your head automatically to see the Barcelona girls coming into the baggage claim.

You spot her quickly, just like how you usually do. You could spot her in any crowd.

Wendie spots her too, as does Ada. Both of them lay their hands on your shoulders.

She's across the room with Alexia Putellas though, held back by her backpack when she nearly wanders into a pillar because she's focused on eating her snacks.

You go to move but the hands on your shoulder tighten.

"What?"

Ada purses her lips. "Why don't we sit back down?"

It dawns on you then that Ada and Wendie have seen all the articles, all the articles that insist on the 'bitter rivalry' between you and your daydreamer.

"No-" You say with a little laugh," It's not like that. It's-"

A body barrels into you and lips are on yours in an instant.

You kiss your girlfriend back.

"I missed you!" She says and you peak over her shoulder to see Alexia Putellas and Irene Paredes standing there with their mouths wide open.

You laugh, just knowing Ada and Wendie are the same. "I missed you too!"

"It's so cool we're in the same city again! I've been doing my research and there's this really well-reviewed snack place near her that we should go to!" She tugs on your hand and you dig in your heels.

"Slow down, dreamy," You say," We still need to get our bags!"

"But Ale and Irene said I could go if I took someone with me."

You can hear Alexia Putellas sigh and mutter," I meant someone from our team."

Your girlfriend ignores her.

"Ada? Wendie?" You ask tentatively.

Ada sighs. "Take Daan and Ellie with you. We'll get your bags."

"Thank you!"

Your girlfriend sorts out her own escorts in the form of Ingrid Engen and Mapi León and she pulls you out the door.

You can't resist the teasing words you throw over your shoulder at your girlfriend's captain.

"I'll have her home by midnight!"

[totaly-obsessed]

Sunset Strolls

Alexia Putellas x reader Blurb

-> navigating a city's chaos for groceries, and stubbornness

-> Based on THIS post by @carolineshairtie (and Ale's hands...)

-> Word count: 640

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The streets of Barcelona were busy with people in a rush to finally get home after a long day at work. The trams were filled to the brim by tired faces squeezing into a small space, hoping for a smooth journey, while the sidewalks transformed into a runway - one person overtaking the next, running into each other and bumping into mothers pushing strollers.

In the midst of the chaos were you and Alexia, making your way to the grocery store. Your girlfriend had been at training until afternoon, and after getting home she had joined you for your daily nap. But then the realization of an empty fridge and even emptier cupboards set in - making for a rude awakening.

Training had been mostly in the gym for the day, and Alexia wanted to enjoy the last rays of sun with her favorite person - So you had walked to the store. The way wasn’t too far, and it was safe to say that both Ale and you had been enjoying just spending time together, sun on your faces and intertwined hands swaying back and forth.

The actual time spent at the local store was fun as well, Ale completely ignored your list and just went for it. Any box you touched was being loaded into your cart, and you needed to remind her multiple times that you had in fact walked there and that you would need to carry everything back home.

The young woman working the register was incredibly amused to see you and Alexia fight over who would be the one paying. You had been trying to argue that Ale had already bought the groceries last week, but your girlfriend didn’t want to hear it, saying that you deserved to have anything you wanted.

The blonde had finally won the fight, slamming her card down on the contactless card machine, holding you off with the other hand, before she gave you the empty bags she had pulled out of your handbag.

“I pay, you pack.”

That seemed fairer than just standing there, so without a fuss you started packing your newly acquired things into jute bags, which quickly started to run out, leaving you to stuff everything in, hoping that it would fit.

Alexia shook her head, an entertained smile on her lips as, before she took the bags from the counter, leaving you empty-handed once again.

“Hold the door amore?”

With a pleasant humm you did, keeping the heavy glass door open so that your girlfriend could walk through, heavy bags in her hands. “Mi alma, please!” your hand was extended towards her, trying to take some of the baggage off her. The walk was now slower than before, much more of a nice stroll.

“No, I’ve got it, you go ahead.” As stubborn as a mule -  but you don’t think it’s possible to love someone more than you did love your girlfriend, even with her incredibly strong-willed character.

The sun had started to set, the shadows much colder than they had been before. Not a lot of people were left over on the streets, trying to make it to the next bar or still trying to make it home. Restaurants started to turn on their ambient lights as people gathered.

You still had a good way to go before you would arrive at your shared apartment. Quietly, your hand that had been holding onto Alexia’s lower arm, started to make its way down, trying to take the bags out of her hand.

The blonde's head shot up, aware of what was happening. Your nice walking pace came to a sudden halt as Ale adjusted, your hands still extended to take them.  Now all the bags were in one hand, some slung over her shoulder, as she took your hand in hers.

“That's not what l- okay.”

[dailyadventureprompts]

Friends, can I share one of my favourite bits of 5e homebrew?

This system (specifically the concept of a depletion die) has been a FANTASTIC addition to my campaigns, as it really breaks players out of that habit of hording consumable items and never using them for fear of needing them more at some point in the nebulous future.

You know what else this system is great for? ADVENTURING SUPPLIES. Now rather than expecting my party to go shopping and fiddle with small change and encumbrance, I just say they have a group "supply die" that's split across all their packs and baggage. How large is that supply die? Tally the group's collective strength bonus and compare it to the "average remaining uses" section of the chart. How much does it cost to resupply? There's a handy-dandy "cost" chart that you can just multiply by 10.

Rather than tracking rations, we just roll the supply die once at the end of each long rest. Whenever my party needs a random doodad that they that they could've picked up in town, they can roll the supply die and take it out of their bag, after that it's added to their permanent inventory until they lose it. Beasts of burden and carts act as a separate strength tally, with a beast able to carry 2x it's base strength bonus by default, and a cart multiplying that number by 5.

I've been looking for a system this elegant FOR YEARS and and finally I have it. Enjoy friends, let me know if you end up using it in your own campaigns.

[godofgrapes]

Leo Brierin, the Lion of Lai’Brierin

Bladesinger Wizard

Brigadier General Leo Brierin, the Lion of Lai’Brierin, is the most powerful battle mage in Karrnath, a direct agent of the crown, and a pain in the ass of everyone he meets.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Odette and Clare with bodyguard reader hired by Carmilla to protect them only ending As something more.

Twin Tempations

Carmilla accepted nothing but the best.

Especially when it came to her daughters.

You went through several 'trails' and tribulations before Carmilla gave you the job, the woman instilling the deepest sense of duty and dedication into you before you even met the girls.

Clara was... unimpressed.

She worked besides her mother for decades, and put simply, her standards were exceptionally high so, well, she wasn't impressed.

She understood why you were hired.

Her mother hoped plenty of individuals for similar roles.

She just didn't agree with the decision.

Odette... didn't really care.

Yes, it was slightly demeaning that their mother felt the need to hire another bodyguard, but honestly, so long as you didn't get to big for your boots and get in the way, she wasn't all that bothered.

And so, after the greeting and usual back and forth, Clara being sure to let you know she doesn't think all that highly of you, you just acknowledging it, the girl unsure how to respond to your neutral exchange.

Your major duty was to follow the pair around as they handled various jobs for Carmilla.

From weapons shipments, to collecting stray angelic steel. Your duty being to stay by their side as they carried their duties out.

You of course, just followed them around, doing as you were told, usually resulting in you carrying around the bulk of materials for them.

Loose weapons, crates, baggage and just anything they couldn't be bothered to carry.

You would of course, do your duty as a bodyguard.

Or at least you'd try.

As while your presence alone would deter many creeps and sleeze bags that may have wished to prey on the pair of attractive young ladies, well, put bluntly, Clara wouldn't pass up on any chance to mark you 'redundant'.

And while her comments were almost constant, you'd just shrug it off, ignoring her snide comments while keeping up your professionalism, doing as you were told so long as they didn't do anything to actively endanger themselves.

You'd often find yourself helping in business, whether it be pulling a cart of munitions or simply holding the clipboard. Though even then, Clara was always adamant on checking it herself, determined to not let you 'screw it up'.

And well, despite her hostility, you fell into a routine.

You'd follow them around, helping with whatever job they'd been given.

And when not on the clock you'd train, working yourself hard, or oddly enough, find yourself hanging around Carmilla herself.

Now granted, Odette and Clara would both spend much of their time around her too, unless they were on a job, but when in Carmilla's 'Sanctuary', you'd often find yourself shadowing the woman, waiting for the girls to be sent out on a task.

Now your relationship with the girls would be... rocky... at best.

At least in the beginning.

Clara, as mentioned, was fairly bull headed, the woman a capable fighter in her own right, the demoness always sure to let you know she didn't need you.

She'd challenge you to countless duels, you always refusing to raise your hand to her.

You could take her snide and snippy comments. They were literally nothing compared to what Carmilla would do to you if she discovered you accidentally hurt her daughter while sparing.

And well, she really didn't respect you, seeing you as just another mindless goon sent to watch them work.

Odette on the other hand, was more hospitable.

Now she wasn't exactly your best friend, but she certainly wasn't hostile, the two of you able to hold a conversation without it turning into a one sided snide comment competition.

She didn't really see the need for you, especially with Clara at her side, but she honestly wasn't apposed to more security on their runs.

You'd actually discuss the business on many occasions, the young lady impressed with how much you knew on weapons design and angelic steel. Your mind far more of a steel blade as a posed to the dull hammer Clara propagated.

You'd of course wield those very weapons, so your knowledge was quite intimate in many regards.

Still, having the discipline and drive to use such weapons was nothing to scoff at, the weapons as much a danger to the weilder then it's potential target.

Your little tuff with Clara would come to ahead just after an extermination.

You'd be out collecting angelic steel.

Why would the daughters of one of the most powerful overlords in Hell personally be out collecting handfuls of steel, especially considering she'd have hundreds of souls under her control?

Clara mostly.

She loved field work. And Odette was always happy to get some work done, especially with her sister.

And well, you were kind of stuck with them.

But It'd be as you grabbed some steel, trying to lighten Clara's load, ya know, doing your job and caring for them that Clara would snap at you, telling you off that she could do it herself.

She'd go on, telling you she could more than protect herself and her sister, she didn't need some chump off the street to do what she'd been doing for years.

Odette would attempt to step in and defend you, but Clara wouldn't have it, screaming at you before storming off, breathing hard as she ignored her sisters calls.

With a sigh, you simply told Odette to finish up while you went after her.

Clara would be be marching away angrily, steps heavy as she marched down a decrepit street, the girl muttering and snarling to herself, about you, why do they even need you?! Why would mother give some random such a job?! Doesn't her mother know she's more then enough?!

She hated you. Hated how orderly. How polite. How disciplined you were. How Odette and even her MOTHER seemed to like you!

She hated you!

It was as she finally calmed down that she realised she was lost.

And with a sigh, she'd start walking around, trying to centre herself.

She'd quickly find herself in a decrepit alleyway, the girl freezing as a group of Sinners waltzed up to her.

Clara would tell them to fuck off as they cat called her, and despite her attempts to walk away, she'd find herself surrounded.

She didn't panic of course after all, she had... she... had... her weapons...

It was then that she realised that in her anger she'd thrown her weapon to the floor, leaving her defenceless.

And suddenly she understood why having a dedicated body guard may be a good thing.

She was no such pushovwr even without her weapons, but there were a Lot of them, the girl not sure how many of them she could take before they overwhelmed her.

And it was just as a man was about to reach her, a sinister smirk smeered across his face that his head would explode.

And before she could quite process it, you were suddenly before the girl, and you... you were magnificent.

You, quite literally, cut your way through the Sinners.

You putting those skills, and weapons, to good use as you cut and shot your way through the crowd, their numbers rapidly shrinking.

Rip and Tear!

It'd be as you went one on one with an especially large demon made a go at Clara that you'd be forced to jump in, defending the girl, but having your hand cut off for your effort.

Even with one hand missing, you still cut down the rest of the fucks before turning to her, checking on her

Clara would snap at you for asking if she was alright as your bloody stump dripped to the floor.

You'd tell her that didn't matter, you were her bodyguard. She was your priority. You didn't matter so long as she was alright.

She could see how genuine you were. How dedicated you were to her and your job.

And she felt... awful.

After a few moments, she'd apologise. Telling you how sorry she was for treating you so poorly, promising it would never happen again.

And much to her surprise, you just smiled, laughing actually before you reached out, gently brushing her hair back.

You telling her you appreciate it.

It wasn't necessary, but you really did appreciate it.

Clara would blush at that before laughing it off, punching your shoulder, telling you you should get back, you agreeing as you gripped your stump.

After that you and Clara were on much better terms, you two getting very close over the following days.

In fact Carmilla herself would notice how close you and Clara got over the next few months, even dualling on many occasions, the young lady learning more then a few tricks from you.

Of course you and Carmilla still spent time together, you often shadowing her in her day to day whenever you weren't out working with the girls or spending time with Clara.

But as you grew closer to Clara, you'd also strengthen your relationship with Odette. You'd accompany her on expeditions, works and research works.

And while you were always friendly, it never really breached a professional arrangement.

That was until one particular resource shipment.

You were supposed to pick up some very important materials from a new supplier.

Unfortunately this supplier was a stupid piece for shit, and tried to just gun you down and take the money.

Of course, you wouldn't allow her to fall to any harm.

Though unfortunately for you, the bastards who betrayed you happened to have one of Carmillas very own carbines, attempting to take out Carmillas daughter.

Of course you didn't let that happen, acting as a human shield, taking the bullet as you protected the girl, recieving a ruthless gut wound, and since it was an angellic bullet it did serious damage, you struggling to protect the girl as you git her the fuck out of there.

You sluggishly picking off several goons before you managed to get her out, the two of you stranded for several hours, Odette doing her best to dress your wound, the two of you sharing a surprisingly light hearted moment before you managed to contact Carmilla and get a pick up.

Now Carmilla would be slightly erked at the turn of events, she would understand that the situation was out of your control.

And given your harsh wound protecting her daughter the woman would spend a small fortune tending to you.

Clara especially defending you, not that she really needed too, but it was nice to see the girl warm to you.

Carmilla caught off guard by Odettes rather harsh defence of you, the girls almost zelous defence of you clearly inspired by your selfless act, the girl actually hostile towards her mother for the very first time.

A first for both women.

So after backing off, you and Odette would enter a new balance in your relationship.

A balance that would rapidly become lopsided as Odette and Clara would begin vying for your attention.

Clara through sparing, the two of you dueling or debating your choice in weapons.

While Odette would talk shop, the two of you discussing weapons development, or just having a casual chat on Carmillas business empire.

It really didn't matter what you were talking about, so long as the two of you were close and chatting they were happy.

The three of you getting closer and closer, you and Clara bonding over your mutual combat experience, while your wit and intellect rapidly sharpened with Clara.

Funnily enough, despite the clashes in personality and Claras usually blunt personality, it would be Odette who confessed first.

The studios girl admitting that she was infatuated with you, the girl asking to perhaps become more.

You'd of course take a day to think.

Though having time to think wasnt a luxury you were granted as the second Clara found out about her sisters confession, the girl would confess herself, the headstrong young lady confessing as she pretty much pinned you down mid duel.

Of course she only pinned you down because you let her, the girl rather blunt as she told you you meant a great deal to her and... and she wanted you.

And that's how you found yourself pinned between two headstrong daughters of one of the most prominent Overlords on Pride.

You were of course split between the two, you not wanting to hurt either, but knowing that choosing one would devastate the other.

But funnily enough, the decision would also be yanked from your hands.

The two would discover the others confession, tearing at each other.

Funnily enough, having to step in to divide the two would result in them demanding you choose.

And so, you snapped, scolding the two, stopping the sisters from fighting, demanding they settle down or else you won't choose either of them.

And funnily enough, they did settle down, the power shifting drastically into your favour in a shocking display of power.

The girl's would take up a new stance, both doing their best to seduce you, though in rapidly different manners.

Odette doing so by leaning heavily into the simple yet affectionate way you interacted, relishing the time you spent together, Odette far more playful, not missing a chance to seduce you. Though even then, she couldn't help but be the adorable dork you held so fondly.

Clara on the other hand was faaaaar more physical.

It actually being during a rather rough sparing session that she'd sweep you off your feet, pinning you down, the girl all smiles as she rather seductively demanded you choose her or her sister.

It'd be after a week of the two fighting for you, constantly arguing and snapping at the other that you'd finally snap, telling them you'd date them both, and that's how it'd be.

And much to your surprise, they agreed.

And that's... well, that's how you ended up as both the bodyguard and the S/O of the two daughters of Carmilla Carmine.

It actually worked out surprisingly well.

You spending time with each of them in their own element.

You and Clara duelling, sparing and enjoying each other physically.

While enjoying Odettes intellect in person, the two of you having many a 'stimulating' conversation, the girl not at all hesitant to tell you she wanted you.

You'd do your best to keep this new dynamic under wraps, not wanting Carmilla to discover your new relationship with not just one, but both of her daughters.

As even if you and Carmilla held a level of mutual respect, that was not a fun prospect on your part.

And keeping up your usual relationship with the woman, the two of you speaking after a job, or even duelling, the Matriarch of her slice of Hell going out of her way to see your consistency, as well as testing your skills.

Your dynamic with the girls would, oddly enough, develope smoothly.

You and Clara bonding and developing in the field, you and the young lady often competing in a playful manner, playing off each other strengths, more then happy to compete with each other's strengths, even if you openly placed her safety over your own.

While you would happily go toe to toe with the feisty Clara, you and Odette happily played off each other, the young woman easily, almost scarily, able to set the scene to dominate you, easily getting you beneath her as she showed off that cunning intelligence.

Your relationships would steadily grow more and more intimate, Clara and Odette having their own, and yet powerful hold over you, both women happy to tease and draw you in, and always dominating you, yet never taking the power from you, happy to make it so you were in control, yet never more then when you were a simple bodyguard.

You'd find yourself in more and more intimate situations with the pair, both Clara and Odette demanding a certain style of... smooching~

You'd end up in a very compromising situation after a particularly stressful mission, you single-handedly defending Odette from a gang of hoodlums.

And dragging you back home, the girl giving Carmilla a hasty debrief on what happened before she'd drag you to her room for a quick 'discussion', the girl instead tying your arms behind you, rather aggressively smooching you as you lay back in one of her chairs, the girl sat on your lap as she unleashed her less then subtlely pent up arousal upon you.

And it'd be as she shoved her tongue down your throat, hands gliding over your form, that Carmilla would knock on the door, asking to speak with Odette.

Of course the girl would freak, hurriedly shoving your clothes into your hands before all but forcing you out through a hidden exit.

You'd stumble from her room, stumbling into the hallway just around the corner from her room as you desperately slid your pants on.

Just managing to get dressed, you stumble along, hopping as you furiously buttoned up your shirt. And reaching further down the Hall, intent on putting space between you and Odettes room.

Only to stumble upon a monolith of a demon.

Zestial.

The tall, slender, green and black demon overlord staring down at your for several moments before a wicked, almost wicked, smirk crossed his face.

He'd release a sinister chuckle, the man sighing softly as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh... young love. Sweet as wine, bitter as... well, a wine."

The ancient overlord giggled, the man gently combing your hair back before simply turning, waltzing away, leaving you a shocked, terrified lil demon, you hurriedly scurrying off the second Zestial was out of frame.

Of course, running off to the other daughter, Clara was just as bad. And finding you in only your tight, form fitting, crotch hugging pants.

Clara finding that very interesting~

The two of you hanging in her room.

And by 'haning' I mean she also strapped you to a chair, though this time the young lady had cuffs for it.

Why did she just have a chair and cuffs prepared for you?

That's not important.

But you would grow closer and closer to the pair, though Carmilla seemed intent on breaking up any chance you had to go past a uh, certain barrier.

But it wouldn't be until one sparring match, Carmilla wanting to do a 'live practice', i.e. the two of you using actual angelic weapons in a serious duel, the two of you going at it.

You'd hold nothing back, the woman leaving several nicks and shallow cuts on your body.

While that would be a major fuck up for most, considering Carmillas skills and your own extensive training, you considered yourself more then capable.

It'd be as you fought her off yet again, that the Matriarch would pi you to the wall, her angelic steel heels dangerously close to your throat as she stared you down.

And with a stern gaze the woman would tell you bluntly, she knew.

You'd freeze, able to use the moment to throw her off.

She'd stare you down, telling you bluntly that she knows your having relations with her daughters.

You'd stay there for a long moment before sighing.

You knew if she wanted to kill you she would have already, so, you went clean.

You told her that you didn't know how, or why, but the woman's daughters took an intimate interest in you.

You didn't know how you were blessed to earn their affection but you were, and while you completely understood the woman's trepidation towards you, you swore you'd never do anything to harm them.

Those girls were your very life.

Your reasons to exist.

And while they liked to act like it were a game, you took it seriously.

You loved them, as strange of a dynamic as it was, the two girls meant the world to you, and while you'd gladly give your life for them you'd ask the Matriarch to spare you.

Not for your sake, but for the girls.

Knowing full well if the woman simply killed you it'd not only break their heart but destroy her relationship with the girls.

Carmilla showed no expression, staring you down for several moments before humming.

She'd let you off with a cold stare, telling you while she wasn't fond of her daughters competing for the same person, let alone that person being their supposed bodyguard, she respected your grit, admiring your willingness to hold true to your duty and serve her daughters equally, despite the emotional ties.

She'd tell you she'd respect herr daughter choice in partner, but put bluntly, if you hurt either of them, she'd neuter you like a dog.

And with that terrifying note, you begun an oddly intimate relationship dynamic with the girls.

While initially the dynamic consisted of the two girls competing over you, it quickly morphed into an oddly intimate threeway dynamic, both girls acknowledging you as their natural partner, the two reaching a truce as they both pursued you.

And with Carmillas unspoken blessing, your dynamic bloomed into a surprisingly soft and intimate relationship, the three of you becoming an adoring, intimate trio, finding ahealthy balance and loving each other warmly.

You, Odette and Clara all bound into a loving, warm and deeply intimate relationship, the three of you holding a deeply loving bond as the sisters mutually agreed to pursue you.

An odd dynamic to be sure, but no doubt an equally loving and intimate one.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - X - GOT A COUPLE THAT'S OUTSIDE, THEY KILL ABOUT ME THOUGH 🪦

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD 🖼️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~4.3K

Warning: Same as all the others for the most part, mentions of violence and un-aliving someone.

Summary: Picking up where we left off. Rio and the Reader try to establish a new normal until the reader gets a call regarding James. Having had his fill of the back and forth Rio finally makes himself known to James and puts an end to the chaos.

X - GOT A COUPLE THAT'S OUTSIDE, THEY KILL ABOUT ME THOUGH 🪦

The dread of returning home to a less than ideal reality is coursing through your veins. It’s so overwhelming you can feel something is coming in your bones. The fight to maintain your centre is active. You haven't practised yoga in more than a week and you have not maintained your meditation rituals. A hand splays over your thigh offering comfort and affection along with a kiss on the top of your head as you rest your head on his chest. You can't help but wonder how he knows that right now you're in need of affection as your mind drifts. The plane starts its descent and you place your hand over Rio’s.  You wish you were happier, especially after all the effort he’d put into your excursions the day prior but it feels like that ship has sailed with those bullshit messages. Closing your eyes you sigh deeply regretting the grace you’d given him. You regret not going postal, not showing up to his job, not kicking and screaming, not telling his mother, bleaching his clothes, the whole nine yards. Clearly, he has no intentions of sparing you or maintaining your reputation. Swallowing you decide the gloves are all the way off. Cheating back just didn't seem to cut it. You’d have to hop down to the depths to meet him at his level. You sit stewing without knowing Rio has already taken care of it. He’d gotten the message confirmation before you’d left the villa this morning. It was part of the reason why he found himself capable of smiling. As soon as the plane landed he knew there would be more details. He needed James down and incapable of bothering you for at least the next month. From here on out he’d let you decide the next courses of action - unless James gets out of pocket again. You and Rio leave the airport side by side. His assertive energy is quite the thing to experience in person. People just seem to give him respect. The airport staff nod at him in acknowledgement. People come over to help him when he needs help and he delegates efficiently finding an attendant to get your bags off the baggage carousel paying them handsomely to lift the bags and push the cart. He doesn't break a sweat keeping you close. You watch him in awe as he moves with precision and purpose; you end up at a part of the airport you don’t recall ever coming across as your bags are transferred to a new attendant.

“Hey man, table for two” Rio says and your eyes bulge in horror when you realise where you are. It's a five star restaurant.

“Rio, I’m in loungewear” you whisper.

“Let me find out you're trying to impress someone else” he comments and you shake your head. “You look beautiful” he smiles as we are seated in a private area. Everyone else is well dressed.

“Thank you, it's just …”

“Mama, me being able to get my girl in a restaurant I don’t own in her pyjamas is boss shit” Rio says and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Ha, Ha! You've seen my pj’s, this is loungewear” you correct.

“Whatever you say” he shrugs and you look away laughing as a server comes over pouring you a delicious smelling tea. 

“The boss will be right out, if you need any help with the menus let me know. We’re happy to make any substitutions you may require. If you need anything click the button on the table and I'll be right out” the man explains. Overwhelmed you hand Rio your menu.

“Please order what you think I’ll like” you tell him and he smiles proceeding to do just that on your behalf. The server smiles and disappears. It’s clear he has great taste and only likes the best of the best, everywhere he goes he’s treated with the utmost consideration.

“I had a dinner planned for us last night” he confesses. It’s clear Rio is upset about having to pivot because of James. Your first instinct is an apology but you reconsider it knowing Rio doesn't expect one. 

“I wish things happened differently,” you confess. “I know it would have been gorgeous” you smile and he nods.

“It was, and I was going to ask you to be my girl because I figure being clear is the best thing for both of us. I know you’ve got a lot going on and I know you’re trying to be happy but it’s okay if you’re not. Fuck shame and James the joke. Soso said I need to be more sensitive” he says.

“Soso?”

“Marisol” he corrects and you smile at his soft side and Marisol’s consideration of you. “Anyway, I’m not ashamed of shit we got going on or what you’re dealing with. I want you to be my girl. I enjoy our time together and I’m not running from shit” he shrugs.

“I had no idea they even made men like you” you remark out loud, thankful for him. Rio smirks, raising a brow.

“Like what?” he asks and you reach across the table to take his chin.

“No words” you smile, giving him a quick peck. “Of course I’ll be yours.” You respond sitting back down. Rio smiles.

“Good” he nods and the waiter brings out a delicious plate of food you absolutely love. Rio shares some of his with your and you with him. Before dinner is over he leaves to speak with the owner. You relax in your seat and check your phone to see a message thread with Tia already making plans for the two of you to go shopping. It’s how Rio finds you and you leave the restaurant and end up at the valet where his car is waiting already loaded with your luggage. You arrive at his place forty-five minutes later. It’s so clean it looks staged.

“I didn't forget about you getting your own place” he comments, watching you hesitate. Shacking up had been against your constitution since before you and James had gotten serious. James, you shake your head knowing you're gonna have to confront him over what he did. You’re gonna have to move your things out.

“I’m in no rush. I’m gonna call my mom and tell her we got in okay” you tell Rio.

“Bet, I have a meeting across town in two hours. I’m going to get ready and head out.” he says leaving you to it.

Settling into the extra deep cushions you look around at the pristine place that feels slightly sterile. It's the level of perfection that doesn't make it feel lived in. You call your mom and she picks up on the third ring.

“Hey Ma, we landed safely.” you tell her.

“Good baby girl��� she says but her voice sounds off.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just got a call from James’ mother.” she says and your eyes close as the irritation mounts. That gag order might be necessary after all.

“Yay” you mutter sarcastically.

“Are you sitting down?” Ma asks and your eyes open as you sit forward.

“Yes?” you ask concerned.

“Apparently James was in a fight last night. It went badly for him and he’s in the hospital suffering pretty badly if she’s not exaggerating. They spent the night and all morning calling you until James was lucid enough to have them call his mother. She's furious and wouldn’t let me get a word in.” Your mom explains rocking your world.

“She’s blaming me isn't she?” You ask and your mothers silence is telling. “Why doesn't he call his girlfriend?” you question your mother.

“He wants you and she’s her son's advocate in light of your absence let her tell it” your mom explains. Sighing deeply you look at the ceiling.

“What was he thinking? Starting a fight?” you question.

Your mom sighs “I don’t know…”

“What do you think I should do?” you ask in need of guidance.

“Do what feels right” she says, being no help. Sexual healing with RIo is what feels right. But you leave your mom out of that truth sighing deeply. You resent James more and more every waking moment it seems.

“I guess I’ll go” you say finally. “Guess I’ll take this time to move my things out too”

“I’m coming down, i’ll get a hotel and we can sort it out together” she says.

“Thanks mom” you sigh in relief.

“No problem my love, let me get things sorted and I’ll call you later. Call me if you need anything” she offers.

“I will love you mommy, sorry you’ve become my secretary” you tell her.

“No problem, I've been cleaning up your shit since you were in diapers. It’s what I signed up for” she jokes, making you laugh.

“Hopefully, you get a break again really soon” you smile.

“Only a tiny one, I want some grandbabies,” she says.

“Ma!” you laugh. 

“After the divorce is finalized of course,  and you’re in a happy healthy marriage” she specifies.

“The shitty fumes must be getting to you. Light a candle, open a window, get some fresh air and I’ll call you later” you tease joking with her.

“Love you, bye” she says hanging up and you do too. Rio emerges dressed in his signature all black and you feel terrible for throwing yet another complicated issue his way.

“What is it?” he asks, sitting down beside you.

“I need a key” you tell him.

“My housekeeper got one cut,” he says. “Where are you headed?” he asks.

“To the hospital James got into something. I’m his emergency contact, he’s in bad shape and asking for me, it’s this whole thing” you explain not wanting to be in this situation.

“I don't think he deserves to see you,” Rio says angrily.

“I’m not sure he’s seeing much of anything with how bad it seems he was beat up.” you tell Rio.

“I don't think you should go after the shit he’s pulled” Rio stands his ground.

“I know, I’m going to go though. I can't keep running from my problems. If I go, he and his mom can say whatever. I can remove myself from all necessary non-legal documents for the time being and then I can tell her I'm going to move out my things and to stop calling my mom. Moving forward all communications will be handled through email until I retain legal counsel” you explain and Rio finds himself smiling.

“Boss shit” he comments.

You snicker. “I have a good teacher”

“Who? I’m not doing all that talking” Rio asserts.

“Take my car and call me if anything you don't like happens” Rio offers.

“You have a meeting. I’ll wait” You respond not wanting to be a distraction.

“Baby, I’m the boss, there's no meeting without me,” Rio says and you laugh, shaking your head at him. Everything about him is so sexy to you. There's no apology for owning who he is and you pinch his cheek.

“I love that about you” you smile honestly and in a second you clam up. The L word. But Rio doesnt clam up, it’s music to his ears. 

“Don’t start or we’ll be here all day if I have to list the things I love about you” he says, giving you a kiss as he stands with his heart racing like a kid. His smile is reassuring, affirming you're alright.

“Maybe some other time then” you recover and he nods, coming back with car keys and a house key for you.

“Go handle your business mama” Rio smirks, willing to let you leap. Your lungs fill with air and you nod knowing he’s there to catch you.

You feel yourself tugging at the hems of your long sleeves as you walk into the eerie hospital environment. The stark whites and fluorescent lighting clash with the depth of Rio’s home decor. No longer in his presence you don't feel as strong or as sure footed. If James has done anything over the past month, it's been turning your life upside down. After years of keeping things close to the chest, what he pulled last night was the very last thing you ever thought he would do. You guess karma is funny that way because it’s him and not you that acted the ass only to be beat up so bad hospitalisation is required. Following the directions from the information desk you find yourself in a unit that smells absolutely disgusting. You hold your breath until you grab a mask from the wall only to freeze once it's on. James’ mother Gladys watches you with folded arms. His father James Senior sits outside the room with his head down instead of pointed at you.

“Someone call my wife!” you hear James shout from inside one of the rooms. His voice is strained and the pain in it is unmistakable.

“Get your ass in there!” His mother screams near tears.

“Gladys” Senior hisses, he’s the king of time and place. Years of trying to please his family nearly makes you rush into the room with your head down, but the time of putting James your needs ahead of everyone else's is done.

“Gladys I’d like to speak to you” you swallow standing your ground.

“We can talk after you go in and tend to your husband.” Her tone is sharp but it no longer cuts.

“If you don't want to talk now I can leave and I won't be coming back” you swallow standing firm.

“Y/N, he’s in pain, one of his eyes is swollen shut and his neck is sprained from how hard he was hit. His breathing is impeded by a few cracked ribs according to x-rays and he’s got a fractured ankle.” Senior says. It’s a surprise, you've never heard of someone so severely impacted from a fight. All that muscle and it turns out he’s made of glass.

“How many people fought him?” you ask.

“Two” Senior responds and you swallow. “He wants to see you, that's all he wants. I know you two are having a rough patch-”

“He’s been cheating on me for six months. Please don’t deny it. I saw the photographs and messages between them. She knew and would talk about me like trash. James didn't defend me. It’s the truth and if he thinks I'm so crazy to make things up then that's another reason we should be divorced.” You tell his father frankly.

“He’s a successful man and you want for nothing, give a little, have a heart” His mother says, shaming women everywhere. As painful as it is, you're grateful that James and his family are in the past now.

“He’s been harassing me for the past week and a half. I had to change my number. The only reason I left is because he nearly put hands on me. Dragged me out of the car when I tried to leave him. A cop broke it up. It’s documented if you don't believe me. He’s been harassing my mother too and cyberstalking me. He’s sending horrible messages to the people I spend time with telling them I’m having an affair, that I’m crying out for attention and mentally unstable.” You vent and while Gladys looks like she doesn’t believe it, Senior seems less reluctant to accept your truth.

“He shouldn’t get physical,” Senior says, drawing the line in the sand somewhere. It’s a decent start toward progress.

“Or harass and stalk me” you add.

“He’s fighting for you Y/N, out of everyone he’s been calling for you non stop. He’s made a mistake but he loves you and I know you love him. You've been married for years, don't let a lapse in judgement or another woman take that from you. He probably let the world or his colleagues get in his head.” Senior says with excellent spin. Maybe two months ago it would have worked. Maybe if he’d ended things without the pressure of your awareness. Maybe if he’d treated you better or reacted differently but not now, not after he’s done so much to hurt you.

“She can have him because if this is how he loves - I don't want it” You swallow pushing the door open. Looking at James sympathy swells in your core. Half of his face is so swollen he’s nearly unrecognisable. He can barely handle the flu so you know this is hell for him.

“Baby” he smiles, erasing every drop of empathy in you.

“No baby, Y/N” You correct sitting in the chair and he smiles while shaking his head.

“What are you playing at? What took you so long?” He asks, trying a smile, it's hard to tell with the swelling.

“James pretending to have amnesia is beneath even you. Don’t make this worse than it needs to be with the pet names. I’ve had enough Jekyll and Hyde from you to last a lifetime” you comment with thinning patience. James’ eyes hold yours for a long while before he relents.

“I’m not gonna stop fighting for us” is what he says first.

“Yes you are, I’m gonna go to the house this week and get my things and you're going to stop contacting me and anyone I associate with.” you explain.

“You're my wife Y/N” he snaps.

“Call Japan, get down on one knee for her when you can manage it” You comment and the hint of cruelty in your disregard for his current predicament is not lost on James.

“So you can be with a club owner? I mean if you’re pissed with me for cheating what do you think he’s gonna do?” James deflects.

“No one I associate with is your business. James, why don't you understand that I’m trying to be civil when what I should do is crash out after the shit you pulled yesterday. That message was abhorrent and grounds for me to file for a restraining order which I may have to still since you're committed to thinking this divorce is a joke” you snap.

“It is, you can't afford to leave me” he threatens.

“No James, you can't afford to lose me but it’s too late. I hope you treat the next woman better, if you get lucky enough.” You stand.

“You won't get anything good in the divorce we don’t have kids!” He says playing his last card.

“Thank God, co-parenting with an asshole like you would be a life sentence” you comment.

“Fuck you” he sneers and the machine he’s attached to starts beeping.

“Have fun pissing into a cup” You shoot back as his mother rushes in.

—----

Later that night

Sitting in the dimly lit room Rio can't recall the last time someone had him this out of character. But James was new to the city after all. How could he know who he was dealing with in all his arrogance. It was his arrogance that made this all easier for Rio. Getting him handled was just a phone call. Sitting he looks ahead at the imbecile that was stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers. Up close and personal with James it was clear the man couldn't differentiate between an asset or liability. He had a wife that was happy to please him, out of the way, good cook with great pussy and a heart of gold. He’d traded into a clear cut VVS diamond for one of those huge lab grown stones. He’d an heirloom for aesthetics, gold for fools gold, and now he was grasping at straws. Being fed pain killers intravenously to quell the beating that was the result of him acting out. Looking down at his gloved hand Rio looks to the gold gun, it always did the trick. Got people where he wanted them quickly. Got their undivided attention and guided them to compliance.  Sitting forward he butts the hospital bed arm rails with his gun twice before sitting back in the seat. James only stirs sleepily, rapping twice more, Rio watches as the man stirs looking around only to go from sleepy to scared. Rio watches as James sits up only to wince and hiss. His hands reach for the button to call the nurse but Rio has already switched it off. It takes James a moment to realise help isn't coming only for panic to fill his eyes at the sight of the gun laying on his lap.

“I - I - I” James begins but the first two tries are hoarse. He swallows before continuing. “IIIII, I didn't mean whatever I said or did, I was wasted” he manages. Displeased with his skills of deduction Rio says nothing as he watches him fight to sit up in disgust.

“You have two choices,” Rio says finally. “Option One: You refuse option two and I pay one of these underpaid and overworked nurses to inject something to make your life miserable into this bag. More miserable than you are already.” Rio swallows. “Two, you leave Y/N alone and sign the divorce papers”

“How the fuck do you know my wif-” Rio is quick and presses the iron against Jame’s skull. 

“Keep talking crazy” Rio smiles, pulling the gun back to screw on a silencer. Once it's fastened he returns his attention back to James. “What were you saying?” Rio asks with his head tilted, wishing James would give him one more reason. Instead of a response the coward swallows. Rio smirks, returning to his seat placing the gun on the tray beside him and giving James his attention once again.

“I mean I get it. I dont get why you cheated but I get you fighting for her. I mean …” Rio nods to himself. “It’s the way she looks at me when she hasn't seen me for a bit” Rio starts chipping away at James' resolve. “The way she calls when she needs something, her little walk, hell I don't even care about her shit crowding the counters in the bathroom” Rio taunts watching James’ patience wear down.

“So you’re her rebound” James grits.

“Rebound is better than the guy who fumbled her. Rebound has her in bed begging for more almost every night.” Rio continues.

“Enough” Jame’s grits.

“I mean I guess you know how good her pussy is, fan-fucking-tastic. I’ll probably suck her dry when I get home and then give her a son” Rio says, hitting the right nerve.

“Fuck you!” James snarks, making Rio smile.

“She probably ain’t post these to spare your ass but since youre a nosy fuck take a look” Rio says getting his phone to a few of the video’s they’d taken on the trip. James closes his eyes at the sight of Rio grabbing your boob while in a bikini in the water together before you kiss. “Aww, what's wrong? It’s no fun when I have the gun?”

“I’ll sign the fucking papers” James grits.

“Ay man, she was always gonna get the divorce whether you were here on earth or in hell” Rio mutters keeping James aware of the existing power dynamic. “Matter of fact, you're gonna send everyone you sent the last bullshit message this one and post it to your story” :

Hello,

I’m writing with a heavy heart to clarify my previous message regarding the affair between your cousin and Y/N. I realize now how misguided and hurtful my words were, driven by my own insecurities and shame.

The painful truth is that I am the one who had an affair for six long months with someone named @JapanJacobs. In my selfishness, I completely neglected my role as a husband and failed to be the partner Y/N deserved. I can’t express how deeply sorry I am for the emotional turmoil I’ve caused her.

I must admit that I also became aggressive with her during our struggles, which only pushed her further away. When she finally asked for a divorce, it sent me spiralling into a manic state that I couldn’t control. I was lost and scared, and I lashed out in my confusion.

I am currently seeking serious help for my mental health and undergoing an evaluation, but I know it may be too little, too late. I am truly ashamed of my actions and the pain I’ve inflicted, not just on my wife but on all of you as well.

I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess and for speaking poorly of Y/N, who has shown me nothing but kindness. I feel utterly pathetic for what I’ve done, and I can only hope for forgiveness, even though I know I don’t deserve it.

Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time.

Sincerely,James

Looking up from the screen James can hardly speak again. “I’m not sending that!” he snaps scornfully. His pride would not allow it.

“I think you are and I bet you don't tell anyone about my visit either. Won’t make you look too sane. Promise you this, if I have to deal with another frown from something you did to my woman you won't walk again. You try something slick and your pops will be in the morgue first. You should’ve respected your beauty but now you’ve woken up a beast.” Rio stands as James’ night nurse enters. Rio waits for James to cry foul but he doesn't. Nodding Rio gives the nurse her cue. A sleep draft is administered and before James can make any stupid decisions he’s forced into a temporary sleep. The messages are sent, the story is posted and Rio leaves the hospital having snatched away all James’ power, safety and ego. According to the nurse, recovery would take at least six months which would be enough time to decide how to end him and make it look accidental.

Authors Note: Whew, this was a long one with a little of everything. I hope you all are happy with James getting his just due. Rio said aht aht aht, you're gonna suffer like you tried to make my girl. You're gonna go crazy like you tried to make my girl. Stick around and try me big dog 😂 What was your favourite part of the chapter? Also, I still have some time to finish up the final part so let me know any suggestions below or in my inbox 📥 .

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn’t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

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A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️