#it’s just . it’s not anyone’s fault and shit comes up and people are sometimes just like that. so it’s fine.

[once-ina-blue-moon]

tfw you go through an entire day waiting for meetings/calls/people to get back to you just to find 30 minutes before you were supposed to do any given thing that it’s been cancelled so now you’ve wasted the better part of your day waiting & preparing for stuff that didn’t even end up happening and now you have work you have to be doing instead of doing something else that’s actually enjoyable . 🙂

[abcdeception]

One take I’ve seen which sort of annoys me is this idea that if Jonathan really wanted to leave the show after Sebastian died, he could’ve just told Cam so & then he would’ve been free to live his life as he saw fit. Beyond the fact that we know he did tell Cameron he wanted to stop performing, or at least that he voiced some kind of protest about performing certain shows (from the final episode, Transposition), there’s the point that it’s really fucking difficult to say no to the people you care about.

(^ from Transposition, ~38:54)

From this scene alone we know that Cam had to talk Johnny into continuing to perform after their father passed; it’s obvious that Johnny values his freedom, though, so why did he ever agree to it? Primarily, because his brother asked him to, and he loves Cameron more than he wants to be free (this is true, at least, at the beginning of the show). It’s not as simple as just saying “No”. If that’s the line of logic we’re following, then Jonathan can’t carry any blame for asking Dina to retrieve the files that the FBI were hiding — she simply could’ve refused, right? Cameron, at the very least (and I do mean very least, because their father treated him like shit), got to go out and connect with people as himself. Johnny only ever had Cameron, so to deny his brother anything must’ve seemed impossible. I don’t want to start speculating about how that conversation must’ve gone because it’s counterintuitive to the point I’m trying to make, but I just think this idea (that all Jonathan had to do is tell Cameron he didn’t want to perform) is reductive, and also does a massive disservice to the really complex character dynamics at play in the show

[phagodyke]

.

[astrronomemes]

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS

a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings for when your muse needs a little TLC. change & alter as needed.

THE HURT:

“Nah, it’s not that bad. I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t think I can walk that far... or at all.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

“Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.”

“I don’t need a break. I’m okay.”

“It was my fault. It was all my fault.”

“I think I need help.”

“So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but... I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.”

“Is the room spinning right now, or is that just me?”

“No, I’m okay, I just... I hit my head. Really hard. I’ll be okay, just give me a second.”

“I’m not sick! I’m fine!”

“No, I don’t think any of my bones are broken, or anything like that. Just bad bruises.”

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy.”

“I’m fine. This just happens sometimes. It’s normal for me.”

“I’ve got a headache.”

“Seriously, though, I’m fine! Stop making such a big deal out of it!”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.”

“Please tell me I don’t look as bad as I feel.”

“I think I’m running a fever.”

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?”

“Stop fussing over me! I’m not a baby!”

“Can I stay with you tonight? I just... really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“No, I-I’m okay. It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

“I... can’t actually remember the last time I had something to eat.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You’ll get sick, too.”

THE COMFORT:

“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think you’d better take a break.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You did everything you could.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Don’t ever let yourself believe that there is.”

“You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?”

“If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me do it for you!”

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“You’re not alone, baby. You never have been.”

“Let’s get you some food.”

“You’re dead on your feet, poor thing. Come on, you need some sleep.”

“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“How many times have I told you to be more careful?!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m right here, okay? I’m not gonna leave you. I’m never gonna leave you.”

“Oh, honey, you’re safe now. I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“What happened to you, baby?”

“I’ll kill that bastard. I’ll kill him for what he did to you.”

“You look like shit, man.”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy! You got pretty banged up back there, and you don’t want to go making yourself worse.”

“I’m not trying to baby you. It’s called taking care of my friends.”

“Sweetheart, you’re burning up! Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?”

[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 // 

[m-ilkiee]

Anything for you, Fushiguro-kun - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [summary] handsome blue eyes, honeyed praises and putting your needs above his, megumi seems like the perfect guy to lose your virginity to. that is, if everything he did wasn't for his selfish gain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [pairing] aged up! fushiguro megumi x fem! reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning] no-curse au, dark content, aged up fushiguro megumi, smut, angst, manipulation, gaslighting, coercion, dubcon, fingering (f.recieving), piv sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, creampie, corruption kink, praise kink, use of pet names (baby, good girl), mention of pregnancy and oral. everyone in this fic is above 20+

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r- 18+] not suitable for 17 or younger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 2.9k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [author's notes]: i adore writing depraved megumi. please reblog, or say something nice and if you like this fic, I have an upcoming megumi fic called E-boys Ruined my Life, so please check that out and if you’re interested, apply to my taglist ♡ okay, back to the story

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main]

MEGUMI almost feels bad for you.

From the first day he met you, you've always been a good person. You're the type of person that genuinely cares about the well-being of people around you. You're considerate, kind and you never hold any grudges.

You're the kind of person that makes him sick to his stomach.

Megumi doesn't consider himself a good person. Sometimes he's nice to his friends and cordial to strangers, but that's it. He's not like you that would go out of your way to make anyone comfortable and certainly hates your style of putting others first before yourself, especially when it's detrimental.

Or at least he did. He doesn't hate it when you do it for him though.

"Megumi- i- can't … I've -mmh ahh- never done this before -ah ah-"

It wasn't his fault you were tempting. It was hard for him to stay focused when you're just so cute and pliant, being a sweetheart, a ray of sunshine. He wasn't one to care if someone was attractive or had big tits, but there's just something so appealing about you that he can't resist.

Your purity.

Ever since you mentioned you've never touched or kissed anyone, Megumi has never been the same around you. Something inside him shifted. It started with subtle touches on your arm and shoulders and then with each time you let him, he gets bolder; touching your back and moving lower, accidentally grabbing your tits or ass, roaming eyes whether you come over to his room like the naïve princess you were. He should feel like a piece of shit the way it's always you he fantasizes about whenever he jerks his cock to orgasm.

Unfortunately, he's not you and he's not going to feel guilty about it. Not like you would mind it, even, with all the cute sounds you make when anyone hits on you.

Your words are feeble in comparison to the loud moans he's pulling out of you with each thrust of his fingers in your cunt. It wasn't hard to get you on your back and legs spread out just for him to play with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he pressed a wet kiss on your neck, still fingering you deep and hard. "I'll be very gentle (name)." he curls his finger deep inside your cunt and you instantly arch your back, scrunching up the sheets underneath your fists. "Just gotta stretch that tight hole of yours real nice. Okay?"

A loud 'ah please' escapes your lips as he curls and twists his fingers into your g-spot faster and your face contorts into a perfect O as he fingers you. 

You're a panting mess underneath him and the sight has him practically drooling. Your legs are trembling on either side of his waist, as if they can't take any of his ministrations anymore. His fingers make quick work of getting you closer and closer to your orgasm and Megumi leans closer to your ear to guide you through it. "Feels good, doesn't it? That tension in your belly?"

He smirks when you nod hazily, your words unable to convey the new feelings you're experiencing right now. It only grows wider when Megumi strokes your g-spot to orgasm, to the point your hands are buried into his sheets and your thighs are violently shuddering while you scream "Megumi oh god '' loud enough to wake up his entire apartment. "Ah, please please-"

"Good girl. Keep cumming."

Music to his ears.

He pulls his fingers out of your poor, abused cunt, the drool of your clear cum connecting your still pulsating pussy to his long digits. Megumi pops the two fingers in his mouth, the tangy taste of your fluids assaulting his taste buds. He supposes this is what satisfaction tastes like - strong and pleasant- but if Megumi just wanted to taste your juices, he would have eaten you out instead.

That could wait, his cock is aching in his boxers

He has your back pressed on his sheets as he hovers on top of you, greedy eyes taking in the sight of your fucked out face and cups your chin with his unsoiled hand. "Won't you thank me baby? Gimme a kiss."

You're so obedient, puckering up as he slots his lips on yours. The kiss is messy, your tongue entangling in his and your soft hands digging through his thick dark hair while his hand squeezes your cheeks. Megumi kisses you until you're fucking breathless, letting you pull away as you pant for air before kissing you again, teeth knocking against each other desperately.

"Need to- fuck" he murmurs between kisses as you fall deeper and deeper into submission. "-fuck- I've got fuck that tight pussy of yours right now. Raw." You don't even get to protest when he adds. "Just need to fuck you raw baby. I'll get you the morning after. I swear."

"Bu-but I could get pregnant-"

"(Name), baby, please. It'll feel better to cum in you for your first time. I won't let you down. You trust me don'tcha?"

"But-"

One thing about you is that you're so easily convinced to go against everything you stand for. Megumi knows you're much too fucked out to understand the kind of risk he' about to put you through. It's selfish how he's hellbent on raw dogging you, something he hasn't ever done before and yet something about being first man that would not only dive into that pussy of yours, but also cum inside it sounds so appealing to him.

And looking at the way you're chewing your lips nervously, you just need a little nudge to agree.

"I'll wear a condom next time, baby. I promise, you'll enjoy it."

"O-okay."

Bingo. "Good girl."

He's much in a rush to roll down his boxers -practically soaked with pre- letting his pale pink erect cock spring up and slap his abdomen lightly. Your reaction was priceless, eyes almost bulging out of your sockets as he hovered above you again, stroking his cock with one hand and placing the other one just above your head. "Eyes on me." He demanded, and you complied, tearing your fearful gaze from his angry red tip moving closer to your entrance, to his face.

You're so pretty, the way your eyes are fixated on him trying not to think of the pain before the pleasure. Feeling a twinge of pity, he pressed a kiss on your cheek to ease up your nerves. "I'll be gentle. I promise." He whispers and you nod, keeping your thighs far apart no matter how bad you want to clamp them shut. Megumi rubs his lengthy dick between your wet folds, his tip teasing your poor, neglected clit before positioning himself towards your entrance.

Maybe it was sleazy for him to coax you into doing this. If Megumi was truly a good friend, he would pull away and leave, you've done nothing to deserve him using you like this after all. You came here to study and he's taken advantage of that.

"It's going to sting a little, (name). But I'll talk you through it. Just follow the sound of my voice, okay?"

Who was he kidding? Remorse was not something Megumi cared about, especially when it's him getting what he wants -you completely surrendering yourself to him and him tainting every inch of you until you're a filthy mess.

  THE blood curdling scream you let out is absolutely gut wrenching to anyone with a conscience. There's a part of Megumi that feels bad for you going through such agonizing pain of his cock splitting your poor cunt apart. Hell, tears are rolling down your cheeks and your fingers are buried in his sheets, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

"Ssh, it's okay." He coos, stroking your cheeks to soothe your pain, wiping your face with his thumbs. You're already shaking and crying, tears rolling down your trembling face, but you hang onto every word he says and lean into his touch. "It'll feel better soon, keep your eyes on me, breathe and relax."

You nod and take deep breaths between sobs, focusing on just him continuously comforting you. Megumi has never lied to you before and he won't start now. You just need to follow his instruction, so you let yourself ignore the searing pain of accommodating his entire length in one go and relax for him. All for him.

You'd do anything for Fushiguro Megumi.

The pain fades slowly but surely and the feeling of fullness for the first time is utterly delightful. The stretch hurt less and the need for him to just start moving was growing. "Megumi, please-"

He leans to your lips and cuts you short with another deep kiss, making you melt in his arms. God, it took everything in Megumi to not go crazy with how you were throbbing around his cock, because as much as he wanted this for himself, a little part of him wanted to take care of you too. Pulling away from the kiss, Megumi raises your legs to dive deeper into your cunt, making you jolt in response.

"I know, baby. I know."

His first thrust was slow, letting the feeling of pleasure wash over him as he let out a grunt. If he knew you were going to feel this good wrapped around his cock, he would have tried to seduce you a long time ago. He starts jerking his hips into you, increasing his pace with each thrust until he finds a steady rhythm that has the both of you moaning for each other.

Megumi is enraptured by the way sweat rolls down your breast, his eyes never never leaving your scrunched up face as he fucks into you. Your hands are now on his back and your nails are painfully scratching on him with each drag of his long cock inside your velvety walls.

"Ah, Megumi… s'good… your cock…"

Your words are a jumbled up mess in your head as you let Megumi fuck you deep and hard. He looks so handsome above you, his well formed abdomen glistening with sweat and slick from your wet pussy, dark blue eyes hooded with nothing short of lust, staring down at you. His dark, spiky hair stuck to his forehead, his biceps flexing every time he connects the two of you together.

Back when you first met him, those dark blue eyes always seemed to scare you because it made him look so unapproachable. Now, they're a siren call and you can't stop staring into them.

"Fuck, your pussy's takin' me too well." he whimpers into your ears, his breaths coming out in quick pants. You feel your pussy throb in response. "Gonna make me fucking lose my mind, shit."

The sound of skin slapping skin as he thrusts into you is sinful, loud and echoing through your ears. His dick is so deep inside you, far better than his fingers and he's fucking into you with such precision that has you gasping for more. You don't think this can get any better than what he's giving you right now-

"AH, WAIT, WAIT-"

Megumi has your legs practically folded to your chest and he's angled his thrusts to your g-spot, now increasing his pace until all you can hear is the headboard practically hitting the wall with his powerful thrusts. Your body is suddenly jerking against your command as the tip of his dick practically slams into your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs are twitching, your nails are drawing blood from his back and you're sure everyone can hear a shrill voice screaming "Megumi!" over and over again.

It's music to his ears.

Megumi can't help but smirk at the way you're out of control. Your pussy is throbbing around his cock like crazy as he pistons into you and you're a mess underneath him, his main goal from the start. "Yeah, keep clamping around my cock baby, just like that." He groans into your ears between thrusts, letting your moans fuel his lust. "And touch that clit of yours like I taught yoy, hmm?"

You comply despite being a shaking mess from his incessant pounding, removing your trembling hand from his back and moving them to your clit. Your breathing is harsh as you rub your clit to his thrusts; the pleasure is intense, too intense for you. "Megumi, 's too much-"

"You can take it (name). Rub your clit."

He's greedy. He wants to see you convulse and soak his bed. He wants you to cum so hard you would be embarrassed for days, weeks even thinking about how you ruined his sheets permanently. It's like an ego trip for him, watching your fucked out self do what he wants for his pleasure.

And like the person you are, you do as commanded.

The scent of sex practically saturated the air of his room. You rub at your clit wildly, your back pressed against the sheets as he pounds into your g-spot. The coil in your belly is even more intense than your previous ones, wounding so tightly it makes you feel like you're going to burst. He doesn't let up in his pounding and you don't stop touching yourself for him, enjoying his lustful gaze as you both work together to bring yourselves to orgasm.

"You're close aren't you?" He curses underneath his breath, your cunt is sucking him tightly and he can feel his dick practically twitch inside you. His breath tickles against your skin, earning a shiver of pleasure from you. "You're gonna be good and cum with me?"

"Yes, yes…" you're screaming now, you're too close, too close to snapping and you don't care if anyone has heard you scream at this point. The whole buildimg probably knows you're fucking him at this point, something you'll deal with later. "anything for you Megumi!"

Your orgasm comes first in torrents, racking your body with violent shudders as your pussy twitches against his cock, liquid soaking his entire abdomen and the sheets beneath you. The sight of you cumming has him following suit soon after, his entire body seizing up as he pumps you full of his hot semen, jerking his hips to ride out the intense ecstasy you both feel until he's spent. Megumi slumps onto you weakly, hazy eyes peeking at your tired form through his long lashes before resting on his elbows to kiss you gently on your forehead.

"That felt great."

You're barely conscious when his lips leave your forehead, the intensity of your orgasm practically knocking you out. You stare back at him and he knows you're unsure of what to say as he dragged himself out of you and climbed off the bed to get a bath started.

Megumi had taken your virginity. It was a thing that just happened and he doesn't regret anything he did. Maybe post nut clarity is taking its time to hit him, but he doesn't care that he had just slept with you. He doesn't care he manipulated you to get his high or that he's sick for deriving pleasure watching you lose your virginity to him.

All that matters is that he wants to do more things to you again and he will.

Once he was sure the shower was hot enough, he walked back to the bed. You were sitting up now, your eyes glued onto the floor with his phone in your hands. He popped up a brow on seeing hot tears roll down your cheeks when you finally sighted him, clearly confused at your reaction.

"You… you planned this."

Oh great, you looked through his phone while he was gone and saw the notification of the period tracker with your name written all over it.

No use denying.

"You shouldn't look through other people's phones. That's bad."

He dodges the phone thrown in his direction easily and it clatters onto the wall instead. Ah well, he'll get a new one when you're done with your tantrum. "You sick bastard! You monitored my fucking cycle, just so that you could have sex with me?"

Megumi doesn't know why he doesn't feel any guilt despite you being in tears. You were a sweet girl who had just been used and it's not like you did anything to him to deserve it. Ignoring you, he got two towels from his drawer and walked back to where you sat, dropping one on your lap. "You should pee, then join me in the shower." He's so casual about everything, mindlessly wrapping a towel around his waist and it genuinely terrifies you. "Do you need help to stand?"

"Megumi, I trusted you. How could you-"

You don't complete your sentence when he pins you flat on your back, his body hovering above you. Your words get caught up in your throat as you gaze at his unreadable expression, dark blue eyes glaring down on you. "How could I ?" He breathes against your skin and you feel your legs twitch against your better judgment. "I could because I wanted you to myself."

You want to turn your head away from Megumi but he curls his long fingers around your chin and jerks it to face him. "Don't look away now (name) and don't pretend you hated what we did. You enjoyed every moment of it as much as I did."

"But you-"

Your breath becomes shaky when he pulls down his towel, now feeling your skin on his as he leans down until your lips almost touch. "But what? I didn't drug you. I didn't force myself on you (name). I never once lied to you." 

You don't resist when he lowers his lips to your neck, now kissing you gently, letting him trail his lips onto your jaw. He murmurs into your skin at your compliance, clearly pleased he had proven his point. Just as he was greedy to have a taste of you, you were willing to give him all of yourself until there's nothing else left to give.

"If you wanted a round two, you could have just asked."

As usual, you gave in to him again. Too easy.

special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @bunniejeansz @kalerah02 @maraya-007 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026 @Sycomantis666 @thisismarisaaa (bolded cannot be tagged)

divider by- @/cafekitsune

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

[ ACT ONE HERE ]

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.

summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’

MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS

“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”

“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”

“We weren’t . . . “

As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.

I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?

They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.

Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.

You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.

He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.

If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.

Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.

He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.

Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.

It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”

And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.

He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.

And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.

“Hey, [N/N].”

The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.

“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.

And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.

Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.

You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.

Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.

“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.

You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.

“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.

“Meet Fishbones.”

BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:

Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?

You could tell he was pulling his punches.

Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.

You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).

“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.

That was one of Bruce’s buildings.

“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”

“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.

Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.

His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.

He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.

He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.

What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?

"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.

Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.

“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.

Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.

“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.

No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.

“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.

“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”

And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.

You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.

“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”

“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”

Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills

[astonmartinii]

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

view all comments

user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

view all comments

user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

view all comments

user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

view all comments

user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Sometimes I think Merlin and Arthur started the sacrificing each other to save each other shit too soon into the series.

Then I remember this scene exists.

(Screenshot from S1E2 - Valiant of Merlin bringing the snake head from the enchanted shield to Arthur to warn him that he’s in danger.)

They moved quickly, but they have a damn good reason for it. I honestly can’t say I blame them.

Merlin learned two things about his destiny with Arthur from this episode:

The first is that Arthur will listen when it matters, but his father’s influence runs deep. Arthur cares more about people’s opinion of him than anything else because he’s been groomed his entire life to become the future king, and Uther is tyrannical in his power so he believes that his is the only way to rule. Arthur picked up bad habits, so while he’s still young and learning what kind of man and leader he wants to be, he could still go either way and Merlin can’t yet trust him to always make the best decisions. (Proved in S1E3 when he enlists Morgana to talk to Arthur about the Afank)

The second thing is that Arthur believes in the systems that Merlin knows to be broken, so he learns it’s better to come to Arthur with results rather than warnings, because Arthur believes the systems in place can help, even in situations where they’d be more of a liability.

Both points are then enforced through season 1 and reinforced by Merlin himself in season 2 onwards.

Arthur learned that Merlin is loyal and honest to a fault, but because of the lifelong grooming as royalty and someone who’s supposed to be “above all others” - as proven when Uther says “his life isn’t worthless, it’s worth less than yours” to Arthur in S1E4 when he denies Arthur a group of men to take to save Merlin - it takes a while for it to really sink in that someone can be loyal and genuinely like him without ulterior motive, and when he finally does recognise that Merlin’s devotion is genuinely sincere, he pushes Merlin away (S2E1) in an attempt to keep himself from getting too close and then hurt by what his father would call his own naivety, rather than just admitting that sometimes people are just bad people who do bad things.

He then subconsciously or not learns that Merlin not being by his side is bad so he keeps him around but at a distance with walls built to protect himself. I can go more into that another time. Uther scapegoats Arthur for a lot, and even acknowledges that he’s a bad parent a few times but never does anything to change the behaviour so his apologies aren’t worth shit. Add that to the genocidal tyranny, and you’ve got a fascinating character who somehow isn’t the main villain of the story. I hate him, he should go play hop scotch on quick sand, but damn is he interesting from a writing/analytical standpoint.

So, yeah, they moved from “if anyone wants to kill him, they can go right ahead. I’ll give them a hand” (-Merlin S1E1) to “…Certain death. Few who have crossed the mountains in search of the Mortaeus Flower have made it back alive” “Sounds like fun” (-Gaius and Arthur S1E4) pretty quickly, but it makes sense when you think about why they moved that quickly with context of how they interact and their (assumed) past experiences.

[comesatimecomesashadow]

her *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ carl grimes x gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ teen angst, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, teen romance, semi-slow burn, fluff

fic type *ೃ༄ one shot (?) | part ii

summary *ೃ༄ in which you fall in love with the freckle-filled, blue eyed boy who wears a sheriff's hat.

note *ೃ༄ this is what i do instead of my three week old homework, enjoy !

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Arriving in Alexandria was an odd thing. Here, people tried to build a ‘civilization’, as if the world outside the walls wasn’t gone to shit already. You often ventured outside the walls without anyone knowing — Anyone excluding Enid, of course — because you were afraid of becoming weak. Immersing yourself in Deanna’s delusion would do nothing for your survival, you were sure of it. 

   When Rick and his group were welcomed inside the walls, you noticed their rough demeanors and the rugged way in which they carried themselves. They were a contrast to the people of Alexandria and because of that, their presence alluded you, even when others were weary of them. But you stayed away. Not because you were scared of them too, but because you’d rather not get close to anyone again. Regardless of what your instincts wanted you to do. 

   Enid would sometimes hang out with you alone or go with Ron and the others to fill the time that you all now had. You usually just spent the days in the attic of the empty house down the street. You’d heard a lot about the blue eyed boy with the sheriff’s hat from Enid, he seemed kinda awkward to you but you didn’t fault him. It was probably strange going from having to fight walkers 24/7 to now having the time for video games; You remember feeling that way too. 

   You were no stranger to the crushing weight of loneliness that followed all those who survived. Sometimes, you wonder if you should’ve just let yourself be eaten. But you were afraid you’d be betraying the last thing your dad told you. ‘Live! Fight and Live!’, you remembered his words vividly. You also remembered the screams that came next. 

   The leaves crunched under your boots as you walked towards your secret hangout. 

   No one, not even Enid, knew where it was. It was the place in the forest you went to whenever you felt lonely, it was a comfort to you most of the time. There in the secluded spot, you had a box with a broken lock hidden with leaves and sticks, it was full of your scavenged art supplies. Drawing was something you liked to do ever since you were a kid, it was one of the only things the apocalypse hadn’t taken from you. 

   As you approached your secret hideout, you noticed a familiar boy with the famous sheriff's hat sitting against the log you always sat at. You bit your lip and walked a little faster. ‘What was he doing here?’ You were a little upset at this. 

   “..How did you find this place?” your words were clear and loud enough so he could hear. You didn’t intend for it to come off as mean as it sounded, but then again maybe that was the best choice. You’d met different groups before coming to Alexandria and people always tended to be selfish people. Even in Alexandria, you noticed how most of the kids your age were selfish, hence why you hid your secret space even from Ron and his group. Why would this guy be any different? 

   He got up and met your eyes, seeming like a deer caught in headlights. He left your sketchbook on the ground. “I was just- Uh, I was walking around and found this place. Do you.. Hang around here, or..?” You could tell he was nervous and frankly, it felt awkward. 

   You sat on the ground next to the not-so-hidden box and grabbed the notebook he left on the ground. He opted to sit next to you. “To answer your question, yeah. I hang here by myself- most of the time at least.” You flipped to an empty page and grabbed some of your pens and markers from the chest. 

   The boy glanced down at your drawing, observing you. Then he began to speak again, less nervous this time. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Carl.” 

   “...” You kept your eyes on the notebook. Should you be friendly with him? After a few moments of silence you told him your name and could see him slightly smile in the corner of your eye. “..Are you gonna stay here?” 

   “Do you mind it?” he asked. You shook your head. He seemed harmless for the most part, maybe he wasn’t like Ron and his friends. “Then.. Could I come here sometimes?” 

   “Why do you wanna?” you asked him, finally meeting his blue eyes. You noticed the freckles on his fair skin and the way his hair fell over his face was kinda funny to you. He was.. Something. Carl looked away from you, contemplating his words. 

   “Just cause.” He said with a small smile. You laughed a little at his words, sometimes it was hard to forget you were just kids. 

   “Alright then.” 

   The next few weeks, your routine began to change. 

   Normally, you’d wake up some time before the afternoon and get ready for the day. Afterwards, you’d help Olivia with the inventory and keeping track of rations. You’d go out on a run if you were asked to and if you weren't, your time was spent at your secret spot or with Enid. 

   However, ever since formally meeting Carl. Your secret hangout spot has become a shared secret hangout spot. He drew comic book characters on one of the notebooks in the chest at the spot, brought you art supplies when he came back from runs and even brought some of his own comic books. You noticed the way his facial expressions changed when he was immersed in his comics, the way he did that awkward side smile of his sometimes, you even caught him stealing glances at you sometimes. 

   But you never addressed it. 

   Not even when you began to find yourself disappointed when he missed a day at the spot. You had to remind yourself that he was just someone you met, it wasn’t like he belonged to you or anything. It wasn’t like you expected him to be there when you knew he had his own life too. 

   You told yourself then that you’d try to distance yourself. 

   Falling for someone, especially in the middle of a damn apocalypse, couldn’t go well. It just couldn’t. But it was hard to distance yourself when he seemed to be everywhere. Whenever you helped Olivia with keeping track of the inventory, he was there with his stupid, dorky smile and innumerous freckles. When you took a usual afternoon walk to clear your head, he waved at you and even joined you with his little sister in tow. 

   He was everywhere and that made it increasingly harder for you to bury your feelings away. 

   “What’re you drawing this time?” Carl asked. Your pencil stopped at the sound of his voice. You looked up and smiled involuntarily. For some reason, ever since you met him, you started to smile more often. Maybe he was just that easy to talk to, but you hated it sometimes. 

   “Walkers.” You gazed back down at your notebook that contained the scribbles and doodles of dismembered walkers and you even drew some of them with funny expressions and speech bubbles. “I know it’s twisted, considering they're the reason the world is ..shit. But I dunno,” you shrugged, wondering what he would think. Carl looked over your notebook, his hair tickling your shoulder. 

   Then he laughed. 

    “Is this one giggling? It looks funny,” A smile graced his features and a warm feeling crept into your heart at the sight of it. 

   “Yeah..!” You giggled and shaded in the drawing with some highlighters. 

   “When did you get into drawing?” 

   You shrugged, “I’ve always been into drawing, ever since I was a kid. I really liked comics n’ stuff, so I guess that’s what motivated me.” You found it endearing that he even asked because it meant that he was interested. You have never known what it felt like to have feelings like these, to feel so close to someone, but it was exciting. ..And scary at the same time of course. 

   It was then that you remembered that you’d forgotten your intentions of distancing yourself. 

   “Yeah? How come?” He picked up the comic book he had meant to continue reading and flipped to the page that had one of its corners dog-eared. 

   You put your pencil down and looked up at the sky peeking through the various green leaves blocking it. “It’s an outlet, I guess. Whenever I got lonely I’d just draw and draw till I forgot the loneliness.” 

   Carl lifted his gaze up to you again. “Do you still feel like that?” 

   You set your notebook down and hugged your knees closer to your chest before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes. Not as much nowadays though.” 

   “I’ve felt that way before too, actually. I thought I was the only one.” Carl admitted. He looked away when your eyes met his.  

   “Yeah?” You asked quietly. 

   He nodded his hands now flat on the ground at his sides and the comic forgotten on his lap. “I feel like it’s too normal sometimes.” Carl said. You agreed with his statement. “A lot of the people here aren’t prepared t’fight. I think that’s the scariest thing outta everything.” 

   “Why so?” you drew circles on the dirt. 

   “If someone, or something, from outside the walls wanted to take this place, they could.” Carl spoke as if it was fact. Maybe he was right. The wind whistled throughout the forest, a signal to return inside the walls now that the sun was also beginning to disappear. You put your notebook and his comic back inside the hidden box and closed it. 

   “We should get back, your dad’s probably wondering where you are.” You lent him a hand to help him up and he took it. His hand was a little calloused — but warm. 

   “Yeah, I guess so.” 

   He got up, but he didn’t let go of your hand. 

.

.

.

   The day the walkers came in through the walls was the day you returned to reality. You had to admit, being in Alexandria had indeed dulled your fighting skills — but it did not deter you. Plunging your knife into the skull of the walker in front of you, you headed toward the infirmary. Gunshots could be heard which only called in more from the swarm, you had to hurry.

   After a sprinting to the infirmary, you met Denise and began to help treat some of the patients that had gotten hurt. Your hands were quick at cleaning wounds and wrapping bandages, you’d picked up a lot of things before coming to Alexandria and you’d made it a habit to learn from Denise as a precaution. Luckily, it was paying off.

   ..Until Rick brought Carl to the infirmary with a grave injury to his right eye. 

   Your hands came to a sudden stop and trembled and you couldn't stop staring at him in utter shock of what had been done to him.  “What-..” 

   Denise helped Rick lay Carl down on the patient bed. “Get me the bandages, we need to stop the bleeding,” Denise ordered. Your mind went blank but you moved in a flash, handing her all the materials she needed to help him as if you were on autopilot. You didn’t ask Michonne nor Rick how it happened and you couldn’t either way since Rick decided to take his anger out on the walkers swarming outside. 

   Your eyes were laser-focused on the numbers reading Carl’s heart rate. 

   It was then that you realized just how much you cared about the freckled boy with the blue eyes, the sheriff’s hat he never took off and his stupid smile. 

   ..It was then that you realized how far you'd fallen for Carl. 

   “Is he..” your voice was shaky but Denise cut you off. 

   “He’s going to live. He will.” Her words were spoken in a strong tone but you didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself o..r you. In the meantime, you busied yourself with the other patients, most of the people huddling up inside the infirmary had left now and were beginning to go join Rick in his fight against the walkers currently swarming the inside of the walls. You couldn’t afford to think about him living or dying when other people were on patient beds fighting for their lives too. 

   But it was hard to not think about him. 

   You could only hope he would be alright. 

   The day seeped into the night sky and soon enough, Rick and the other Alexandrians had succeeded in massacring all the walkers inside the walls. Now, they were focused on making sure the walls would hold up while you still were tending to the patients in the infirmary with Denise. Luckily, some of the patients were recovering from their injuries now and waking up. From what Denise told you, Carl was unconscious but he was stable- He was alive.  That’s all that mattered to you. 

   You wanted to talk to someone, tell someone about all the feelings you were bottling up- but Enid was nowhere to be found. Neither was Ron or the other kids, and you couldn’t tell Denise because you knew how stressed she must have been. You left the infirmary and went outside to take in some air. The woman with the sword.. Michonne, you think her name was; She was outside of the infirmary as well. Carl’s dad, Rick, was there too. 

   “How is he?” Rick asked, you could hear the anxiousness in his voice. 

   You tried to give him a smile, “He’s doing better than when you brought him in, thankfully.” A few tears escaped Rick’s eyes but a small smile crept onto his lips. “..There was nothing we could do about his eye. But, ..He’ll live. You can go see him right now, he’s uhm.. He’s unconscious though.” Rick nodded and Michonne seemed relieved, but Rick was the only one who went in. Michonne stayed out on the steps with you. 

   You sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, your arms crossed and your heart full. 

   “Are you okay?” Michonne asked you genuinely.

   If it were in another time, any other time, you probably would have lied. But as soon as one tear strayed from your eye, a multitude of others seemed to follow. Michonne’s expression softened and she offered a hug, embracing your shaking body racked with emotions you couldn’t name. You didn’t know if you should be relieved, or worried- or both! 

   “It’ll be okay, [Name].” 

   You took a shaky breath in, “How..- How do you know that?” You looked up at her, your vision blurry. 

   She wiped your tears carefully, “Because we’re the ones who live.” 

   The words she spoke to you that day gave you hope. Luckily for you and his family he woke up a few weeks after the whole ordeal. However, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, like you had done before you met him. 

   You couldn’t look at him, not because of how he looked.. 

   ..but because you knew that the next time you saw him face to face, the dam of feelings you held inside would burst open instantly.

[neptuneiris]

True Intentions | (One-shot)

Be the only one or be an 'sometimes'?

pairing: modern!aemond (best-friend brother) × fem!reader

summary: even knowing his reputation, you've always had a little secret crush on the most popular boy in school, Aemond Targaryen, until it becomes impossible to hide it when your brother Cregan makes friends with him and you begin to see him more frequently.

word count: 9.0k

I'm very excited about this!

I hope you really like it, I loved writing this even though it took me a while, but here it is finally:) comments and reblogs are appreciated beautiful people, thank you so much for reading!❤

warning's: language, slight angst, mention of alys, sexual content, spanking.

You always hated it when your brother Cregan brought his friends over to your house when your parents were away, whether it was to watch soccer games, play video games or have some fun at the pool.

You especially were never the type of sister to bring friends over, rather you were the type of sister who preferred to go to friends' houses, as you never mentioned your house as an option.

It just wasn't comfortable for you.

And apparently it wasn't enough for your brother and his friends to see each other almost daily at school that they also had to go to your house.

But you couldn't really do anything, he's the older brother and it wouldn't make any difference to accuse him to your parents since logically there's nothing wrong with him inviting his friends over, besides they work almost all the time and probably wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

So you can only lock yourself in your room with food as a provision, put on your AirPods and wait for them to leave.

And that's what you do, all the while Cregan and his friends prowl around your house. But you reach your breaking point when again Cregan plans a pool party.

"Are you serious?" you inquire, clearly annoyed, "I swear to God, Cregan, this is not going to happen again."

"Oh come on," he gives you a tired look, tossing balloons and animal inflatables into the pool, "Live a little, sis."

"No! You always do this, the same old shit!"

You reproach him as you follow him back into the house, where at the kitchen island is a stack of beers that he begins to store in the fridge completely disinterested to your clear dissatisfaction with it all, as he just doesn't care.

"Last time everyone was coming into the house like it was nothing to leave the whole floor wet, they also left a mess all over the kitchen, pool and garden," you remind him annoyed, "Not to mention we had complaints from the neighbors for all the fuss you made."

"Fucking Hell, will you relax? I'll take care of everything," he says looking at you wearily, only increasing your anger more, "The guys won't be long and I needed everything to be ready."

"That's what you always say but I'm the one who ends up cleaning everything up in and I'm the one who deals with the neighbors because of you fucking fault!"

"Fine!" he exclaims in exasperation, looking at you, "You have my word, I'll take care of everything this time, yeah?"

He looks at you seriously to get back to dealing with the beers, but you don't believe half a word he says.

"Now do you want to help me turn on the pool lights? Also lock the upstairs doors, just in case."

You slowly shake your head in his direction with your arms crossed with your completely serious and annoyed look in his direction.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You don't wait for him to say anything back nor do you say anything else, you just annoyingly turn around and walk upstairs to your room, preparing to be another long night confined to your four walls.

And this is what happens every time your parents aren't home, having to put up with the liberties Cregan takes to do whatever he pleases around the house.

During the week he usually doesn't invite anyone over, except for a few times he invites the Velaryon brothers, Jace and Luke, over to play video games after school.

The weekend is when it really bothers you that he throws big parties without your parents knowing.

It's not until one day when you get home from your music lessons at almost seven o'clock that when you open your front door, you hear a lot of voices and laughter.

You close the door hard enough to announce your arrival and look into the living room as you head for the stairs, when then, you see them.

And they see you too.

With handsome faces and infectious smiles, besides their unusually silver hair and blue eyes that steal the breath of every girl in the school, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen, the kings of the whole school and also the most players, are in your living room having a few beers and smoking with Cregan.

And Cregan is the first to react.

"Guys, the lady of the house is here," he says, "So let's take this to the pool, shall we? Before she starts screaming."

You watch him with a completely serious look on your face as you see Aegon let out a small chuckle to himself. And without a word, you avert your gaze and continue on your way to the stairs, feigning disinterest.

However, you don't leave without one last look at him, Aemond Targaryen.

From your single couch and with a cigarette between his long fingers, gives you back an intense and burning look that makes you feel a strange sensation all over your body.

And just like all the other girls at your school, you can't help but feel equally captivated and attracted to him, Aemond.

But it's not something you really go around telling everyone, let alone something you want your brother to know now that he's apparently become friends with him.

However, you should have expected him to notice.

And it happens when Cregan again throws a pool party with all his friends and him too, where you don't confront him much about it like previous times and that's what gets his attention.

"Which of the two is the one you like?"

He asks you suddenly with a curious expression and a hint of suspicion in his voice, making you watch him with confusion on your face.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Targaryens."

He points at you with his gaze, crossing his arms and looking at you again attentively and suspiciously.

"You haven't caused a scene since the two of them have been coming around often and you certainly don't look upset when it used to be a problem with anyone coming around, so you definitely must like one of the two of them, so tell me, which one?"

Your whole body tenses up completely upon hearing your brother's words and you inevitably start to feel terribly nervous, as well as your heart starts to beat too fast, especially because of his suspicious look on you.

But you feign innocence and confusion, only to stare at him with your most incredulous face of all and try to evade him.

"You're talking nonsense."

"Oh, am I?"

"Cregan," you observe him seriously, "Have you ever seen me talk to either of the two of them here or at school?"

"Hmm," he says for a moment, thoughtfully.

Still he doesn't look entirely convinced and analyzes you with a completely intent and penetrating gaze, making you feel more nervous but you control him well.

"Still I find it odd that you don't complain about them when they come."

"Then maybe you should think about the fact that I just got tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again," you persuade the subject, "No matter how many times I complain, you'll still do what you want," you tell him seriously, "Besides, you assume that as if I didn't go to the same school as you and didn't know the Targaryens."

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," he says instantly, just as serious, "Do you think I'd like to see you start dating one of them?"

"And why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" he repeats incredulously, "I'm your brother, of course I care."

"As if I care about the girls you date," you tell him just as incredulously.

"Well, at least I have a good reason here," he insists, "I know them, both," he clarifies, "And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

"Stop being ridiculous," you tell him with your clearly annoyed tone, starting to head to your room, "And even if I will start dating one of them, it's none of your business."

You sentence to finally leave him behind, leaving a tension in the kitchen, while inside, you finally stop feeling tense and nervous, but Cregan continues with his suspicion.

He almost had you, almost.

And after that conversation, automatically the Targaryens come to your house more often, even more than usual.

Even after school, Cregan invites them over, the two of them and also the Velaryon brothers, where they all together invade your house and you start to witness the personality of him that he is mostly known for.

And it happens one day you're making yourself food and you hear them all talking from the living room.

"Oh, this fucker is texting Savannah," you hear Aegon's excited and amused voice.

"What!? Savannah Williams!?"

"Yeah, since yesterday. I saw her name on his phone when she texted him."

"So what do you say, dude?"

"Not much, actually," you hear his voice.

"But haven't you gone out with her before?"

"Yeah, but you know, it was casual," he explains, "Just now she told me her parents aren't home."

"Oh dude, if I were you, I wouldn't waste the opportunity," your brother says excitedly.

"But what happened to that girl at the party last week? What was her name? Emily, I think."

"Ah Emily… yeah, we had a thing but it was casual too. We only met once after that party."

"She was so hot, but Savannah is hot too."

"Yeah, I know," you hear his nonchalant voice.

"So will you go see her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

You hear them continue to talk, but you tune out and sneak off to your room unnoticed.

It's not the first time you've witnessed these conversations, though. It also happens when they are in the pool and you find yourself back in the kitchen preparing food.

But you can't concentrate because through the glass of the huge windows you see Aemond's bare chest marked. This is a distraction but you try to ignore it as much as you can, but to no avail.

When then the movement and sound of him emerging from the water catches your attention and that of Cregan and Aegon.

"Where are you going?"

"To Cerelle's," he announces, with his phone in hand and his towel over his shoulder.

"Yo! Cerelle Lannister!?" exclaims Cregan in surprise.

"She's so sexy," Aegon says, grining.

"She told me she's home alone and wants me to come over," he explains, as you watch him quickly move his fingers across his phone screen.

"Good luck, dude!"

You feel another pang of disappointment when you hear all this and also when you see how he smiles and starts to make his way over here without taking his eyes off his screen.

This immediately makes you react to quickly go to your room so you don't cross paths with him.

Even though you know his reputation and how you are aware of his numerous 'adventures' with other girls, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach and wonder if he might ever be interested in you.

Not in that way, since you really don't want to be another girl on his huge list, but be something more genuine and real to him.

But that's totally ridiculous and impossible.

You tell yourself in disbelief, seeing the reality, as it's clear he's not looking for something serious and you don't want to be a 'one night stand' for him if you'll be ignored, forgotten and to some extent humiliated afterwards.

One day, taking advantage of the fact that Cregan is not at home on the weekend and neither are any of his friends, much less your parents, although that is actually no surprise, you decide to make this day for yourself, relax and enjoy your own company.

You decide to stop paying attention to your phone and with your towel in your arms, you leave your room and go down to the pool.

But just as you finish walking down the stairs and are about to turn down the hallway, the doorbell rings.

You stop with a tired expression as that alone has slightly disturbed the zen zone you now find yourself in, but having no choice, you turn around and head to open the door, thinking it must be Mrs. Arryn to ask you for sugar, as usual.

But when you open the door, it is not Mrs. Arryn, but rather you come face to face with Aemond, taking you by surprise and takes your breath away for a moment.

If he is surprised to see you, he doesn't show it, just raises his eyebrows slightly and you notice how he shamelessly runs his eye up and down you, making you embarrassed and nervous as you remembers your outfit, which is a cute black two-piece bikini.

And you quickly try to cover up a bit with the towel in your hands, although in reality this shouldn't embarrass you, since you're at home and you didn't expect to see him, besides this bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Or so you think.

"Hey."

He says to you dispassionately in greeting mode, with a look that you can't really describe but that makes you feel more nervous and you feel your heart beating too hard.

"Hi," you try not to stutter, "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Aemond watches you with a little mischievous smile barely visible and a spark of amusement in his eye.

"No worries," he tells you in his soft tone.

"Hum…" you place your confused face, "My brother is not here," you let him know, still finding it strange that he doesn't know that.

"Oh," he is silent for a moment, watching you intently, "He's not?"

You shake your head.

"He said he was going to Alysanne's, but he left hours ago," you explain and he hums in understanding, "Did you tell him you were coming today?"

"No, although I should have, I was just passing through and decided to come," he explains to you as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his silk jacket, "I left my wallet here last night," he tells you later, getting your attention more, "That's why."

"Oh," is all you say, not knowing what else to say for a few seconds, "Well, I'm not sure what time Cregan will be back. But if you want to go up and get it, I'll be at the pool."

You allow him passage, as it's not as if he's a complete stranger and it's not as if he doesn't hang around here often either, it's as if he and Aegon live here too, being the brothers Cregan wished he had.

"Okay, thanks," he tells you as you step aside and make room for him to come in.

"Just close the door when you leave," you tell him, still feeling your heart beat too fast against your chest.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you, nodding in your direction.

"All right."

You give him a small smile and without saying anything else to him, you walk past him, hurrying to get out of his sight and urgently needing, now more than anything else, to get your whole body into the warm water of the pool that will make you stop feeling so tense.

And this is why you don't feel Aemond's piercing, burning gaze on you as you pull away, admiring your bare skin and having a perfect idea of your naked body to the imagination.

And with that alone, he feels himself getting hard at the sight of your smooth, long legs, as well as getting a good look at that ass of yours jiggling as you pull away.

He wets his lips and with a little grin, finally makes his way to Cregan's room, thinking about little things since you're here alone…. now with him.

Meanwhile you, wanting to forget that Aemond Targaryen is in your house right now, submerge yourself completely in the water, where you immediately feel a sensation of freshness and relief.

The water caresses you and envelops your body completely, while you let out a small sigh of pleasure and begin to get used to the new temperature, letting the revitalizing sensation envelop you completely.

Then you emerge with a slight jump, remove your wet hair stuck to your face and begin to swim elegantly, where your arms and legs move at a steady pace and the water takes you in all directions.

You submerge again for a moment and watch the horizon, as your house is on a hill and you can see the lights of neighborhoods below, being a beautiful sight when the sun sets and also when the sun goes down.

However, again your zen zone is disturbed when you hear the movement of the kitchen glass doors sliding, so you turn around in confusion and again feel all your nervousness wash over you.

Aemond makes his way over here, but what strikes you more than anything else is how he has clothes in his hand and also one of the many clean towels Cregan has in his bathroom.

You look at him confused face and he looks back at you with his intent gaze.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The words get stuck in your throat, watching him still confused, feeling really very nervous and not understanding what he is doing here since he was supposed to go get his wallet and then leave, while he stands at the edge of the pool, watching you.

"Hum…" you say not really knowing what to say, "Are you going to wait for Cregan?"

He averts his gaze from yours, then drops the towel and clothes on a chair with dispassionate movements, to return his gaze to you.

"Yeah, I can do that too."

You watch him warily and with a slight distrust, but not in a bad way, it's simply nerves.

"And what are you actually here to do?"

He looks at you slightly amused.

"To keep you company, of course. Unless you don't want me to," he hastens to clarify.

And here your dilemma begins.

Being alone here with Aemond, in your house, in your pool, was a scenario you longed for and feared at the same time. You longed for because that's how your mind works when you're attracted to him, but feared since anything could happen.

And knowing his reputation, maybe when the moment happens, if the moment happens at all, you don't know if what will come next will be bad or good.

Also, you don't know if Cregan will arrive at any time or even later, so if he arrives in a couple more minutes and sees you alone here with Aemond, you don't even want to imagine the scandal he will make.

You don't know if Aemond has considered that possibility too but if he has, he doesn't seem to mind.

"So?" he looks at you expectantly.

But you again, can't utter words.

You don't want to look bitter by telling him no, that it will be best for him to leave, but you also can't find another way to politely decline.

And on the other hand… there is that inevitable emotion in your being that begs you to invite him into the pool with you.

You let out a long breath and swallow hard before responding, trying to hide your excitement and nervousness.

"Hum… yeah, sure, if you want," you say acting nonchalant, averting your gaze from him and distracting yourself with the water.

Aemond can't help but put on his smirk again and right in front of you, wanting to give you a show, he takes off his shirt, to which you watch him helplessly out of the corner of your eye and make sure he doesn't catch you admiring the view.

He's wearing that usual silver chain around his neck that makes it stand out against his skin, making him look only even sexier when he doesn't have a shirt on and God, you don't know if you can survive this, thinking it's a bad idea.

Then you watch as he pulls on a pair of Cregan shorts, secures his hair in a low bun and finally steps into the water.

In a nonchalant way you make yourself more towards the shore, unobviously avoiding getting too close to him as he swims towards the center of the pool, making it more impossible for you not to watch him as it's getting dark and the last orange rays of the sun beautifully illuminate his skin that glows slightly from the water and his face.

And then feel his intense gaze on you, while you try to distract yourself with your eyes, trying to focus only on you.

But it is genuinely impossible.

However, he doesn't make any effort to talk and neither do you, which you are grateful for, to continue to feel the calmness and relaxation throughout your body, although it's a little hard for you being here alone with him.

And it's a bit awkward since neither of you are talking, but is there anything to talk about?

He's one of your brother's best friends and you're just the sister, the two of you don't really know each other, so it makes sense. But still you feel the slight tension between the two of you and you don't even know why.

You wonder if he feels the same way too when suddenly his low, amused voice almost makes you startle in your place.

"I've always wondered why you're so quiet when Aegon and I come over."

You look at him with a slightly surprised expression, not expecting that, feeling again how your heart is beating too fast from nerves, for what are you supposed to tell him?

You should tell him that you have a crush on him and that your brother warned you about him?

"I know it's your house and I come with your brother but… you look like you hate me or something."

Oh God.

You think, only making you feel more nervous, especially since it's really impossible not to see a part of his torso and pectorals that looks almost glowing from the water and sunlight, not expecting to hear those words either.

And you force yourself not to turn your back on him anymore to watch him while they talk, adopting a relaxed and confident attitude, just like him, when actually inside you are shaking with nerves.

"You just said yourself, you come with my brother, not me," you say softly.

And while he watches you and listens attentively, he also struggles just like you not to see too much of your breasts confined in that black bikini of yours that makes you look too sexy, especially the way the wet fabric looks and your skin on your chest and collarbone too.

"And I don't hate you," you clarify, slightly amused and absurd, "We just don't talk, that's all."

"Because you haven't given me the chance."

You look at him expectantly.

"I don't remember a single time you ever tried to talk to me."

"That's exactly why," he tells you softly, "Because you run away before I can try."

Now it is you who watches him completely attentively, while you feel your heart beating like crazy and you look away from him for a moment, not knowing what to say or do since he is right, feeling really very nervous, especially when he starts to swim slowly towards you, with a determined look.

And you for insisting, you start to back away, watching his slow and calculated movements with some trepidation, having an idea of what he intends to do and you know it's not a good idea at all.

"See? You're already running away," he points out to you with his amused and satisfied look.

And you don't miss his determined look, how his head is slightly tilted as he continues to slowly advance towards you, with the corners of his lips twisted upwards in a small smile and his blue eye glowing, while his prosthetic eye remains the same as ever.

And you still don't want to agree with him.

"That's not true, I'm not doing anything," you defend yourself in a weak and pathetic attempt.

"Oh no?" he raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

And you start to lose it all when he's already in front of you, cornering you.

"Aemond," you call him in a sigh in warning mode, fully alert, leaving his name in the air as you become very nervous of his intense, dark gaze on you.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?"

You watch him with a slight expression of surprise and even more nervousness, as you press your lips together and try to say the right words.

"No," you reply softly, "But I know you're no good either," you confess.

And he frowns, watching you interestedly.

"What do you mean?" you are silent for a moment, as you give him a sad look, serious and obvious at the same time.

"We both know what," you tell him softly, without much detail.

And at this, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed, immediately noticing how you clench your jaw and look away from yours for a moment, serious and thoughtful.

You know he shouldn't have to be upset with you for implying a truth you both know, especially him, but still you can't help but hold your breath, hoping that maybe you haven't gone too far.

All the while thinking that maybe you've ruined the first chance you've had to talk to him by telling him that he's no good by reputation, since that's not your concern, but at least you make it clear that that's not what you're looking for now.

"And you don't even want to try?" he asks you quietly, turning his gaze back to you, attentive and completely willing.

You stare at him, completely speechless, as you feel your whole body tense and your eyes are slightly wide open, your lips parted, not having the slightest idea what to say at the same time as a million questions invade your mind.

And just at that moment, Cregan's words come back to your mind.

"I know them, both. And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

So you know.

Aemond is not like you and the only thing he wants is to fill his list, no matter with whom, not even if it's the sister of one of his best friends, who are supposed to be 'forbidden', somehow.

And that's why you decide to answer him truthfully, no longer caring if you hurt his feelings, even though you doubt it very much.

"And be just another girl on your list that you never speak to again and suddenly pretend she doesn't exist anymore? No thanks."

Not wanting this to go any further, since you knew all along that letting him stay was a bad idea, you move as fast as your body in the water will let you, walking away, wanting to keep your distance again.

But just as you pass by him, he's faster and you feel his big hand grab your arm and twist you in a demanding motion back towards him, slamming his chest against yours, locking you in his arms, making you gasp in surprise.

His face is above yours, completely close, causing you nerves and you try to free yourself from him, but he doesn't let you, even having that determined, attentive and dark look.

"Do you ever stop running away?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

"What do you think you're doing?" you hiss nervously.

"You're not even letting me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Oh no?" he asks, "Did I say I only wanted you for one night?"

"That's what you do, Aemond, with every girl," you say absurdly, "Am I suddenly going to be the exception? How am I supposed to believe that?"

However, any further protest gets stuck in your throat as Aemond grabs one hand from your cheek and the other places it on your bare waist, pulling you closer against him in a possessive grip.

And you know you're losing the battle when he brings his face closer to yours, where your noses brush lightly and your breathing becomes more rapid, having no idea what's going on.

But Aemond does.

And as he strokes your soft, wet cheek with his thumb, watching you intently and with understanding, his next words make you reconsider the situation completely.

"You won't be just another girl on the list," he murmurs softly to you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

You shudder completely at his words, but also at his touch and closeness, being impossible not to look between his violet eye or his full lips, which Aemond notices, also peering between your eyes and lips hungrily.

And you don't even think or discuss it anymore when he leans his face towards you and kisses you with need, without even giving you time to react.

You moan into his mouth in surprise and he pulls you roughly to him, lowering his hands to your body where he makes you wrap your legs around his torso, then makes room between your lips with his tongue, making you gasp.

You immediately bring your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss further, a passionate kiss, where you barely give each other time to breathe properly before desperately bringing your lips together again.

A slight tingle of desire is felt between your legs as you move your body and legs to hold his torso tighter, where you perfectly feel the hardness of his cock under your ass.

You moan as you feel one of his hands grip your thigh and the other caress the skin of one of your ass cheeks, making you gasp against his mouth, closing your eyes in delight as he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft kisses on your neck.

"I fucking knew it," he murmurs in delight too in his husky voice, running his tongue over your sensitive skin, "I knew you wanted me too."

You squint completely as the hand on your ass reaches lower and nonchalantly rubs his palm over your covered, moist center.

"Aemond," you moan.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, smiling in the middle of your lips as he kisses you again.

But it's there in that moment with his hand caressing you right at your nerve center that your brain for an instant seems to react, realizing what's really going on and you stop kissing him abruptly, watching him in surprise and slight fear as he watches you slightly confused.

"W-we can't," you say in a trembling voice, "We can't do this, t-this is wrong. Cregan—

"We can't do it or we can't do it here?" he inquires expectantly.

You let out a sigh.

"Both," you say with a certain embarrassed tone, "But I'm more worried about Cregan. If he sees us, he'll go crazy."

"Come on, Y/N, you're not a little girl anymore."

"I know but he warned me about you and your brother," you tell him hopelessly, "And you're one of his best friends."

Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you and nothing else, where he is aware and so are you of the hardness in his shorts, while in his thoughts he bets that you too must be spilling your juices between your legs.

Honestly he understands your concern, but he also understands that Cregan is really no one to tell you who you can and can't date, as the decision is totally up to you.

He doesn't want to have problems with him either as he also considers him one of his best friends but you... you simply drove him crazy with seeing you in this black bikini and now he is even more so for you, wanting, needing more of you, no matter the consequences.

"Then we have to be careful and not to say anything to him," he tells you softly, in solution, "Only if you want to," he clarifies, "But if you want to stop now, just tell me and I will, before we take this any further."

But you don't really have to make a decision when you are already here, in his arms, feeling how much he wants you and you also recognizing how much you want to keep touching and kissing him, no matter what.

But he still gives you that option, to make you see that he really doesn't want to hurt you and that he respects your decisions, since you are the one in control of all this and you are the one who puts the stop, at any time.

And when Aemond sees how you are watching him intently, with indecision in your gaze, holding back your true desires, thinking fast, he cocks his head to one side and watches you curiously.

"Or do you really want me as much as I want you, princess?"

Something snaps inside you and not just from hearing that nickname for you, but from having him so fucking close and his lips being a complete invitation to you and in fact all of him.

So you think no more and again crash your lips against his, resuming what you were doing before, to which Aemond responds with the same rudeness and fervor.

And then without stopping kissing you, he carries you to the edge of the pool along with him.

Soon enough, he is sitting on the edge of the pool and you find yourself sitting on top of him, your arms around his neck as you press yourself against the hardness of his shorts.

You move your hips in circles on top of him, rubbing your needy center against his hard cock, while he caresses your thighs, your ass and all the skin he blindly finds without stopping kissing you, feeling his breathing just as ragged as yours.

Then he brings his hands up and starts sliding the strings of your bikini over your shoulders, sending fiery electricity throughout your body.

"What was it you said? That we couldn't do this here?" he murmurs hoarsely against your skin, leaving wet kisses on your collarbone and neck.

You moan, as your bikini top piece is loosened completely by Aemond's fingers and you involuntarily wiggle your hips more intensely.

"You just can't resist, can you?" he asks you amused amidst all the sensuality.

"Shut up," you whine pathetically into his lips.

This time he kisses you again, softly and tenderly, deep, as he with his hand pulls away the piece of your bikini top that covers your breasts, freeing them, causing him to groan at the sight in front of him.

"Fuck," he murmurs, "Such a pretty tits, princess."

He says to you with his eye fully dilated and watching you hungrily, then you moan as he brings his mouth to your hard, wet nipple and begins to caress it with his tongue and lips, sucking on it, while he kneads the other one with his hand.

"Oh yes," you moan, pulling your breasts closer to his face.

You continue to move your hips on top of him, desperate and needy to feel the friction his cock gives you against your swollen clit.

When you least expect it, you begin to approach your limit, as your whole body tenses and his caressing hands only add to the pleasure.

"Mhm," he moans against your hard nipple, then gives the same attention to the other, still kneading them as he pleases.

"Fuck, Aemond, please don't stop," you say under your breath.

But that's exactly what he does, he releases your nipple with a wet sound and captures your lips in a sensual kiss, making you moan and groan at the same time from the attention on your breasts.

And you sigh as he again distributes kisses all over your neck and his teeth grind against your sensitive skin.

You feel the moist heat of his mouth and hands all over your body, as if he wants to mark you with each firm, possessive touch.

You arch your neck and moan, clinging to him completely, needing more of him, driving you completely insane.

"Remember we have to be careful, baby," he suddenly murmurs hoarsely in your ear, feeling his warm breath, "And we don't want your brother to see his innocent little sister getting the fuck of her life if he comes back, do we?"

Despite all the desire you're feeling and you're dripping completely for him, his words reach your brain and scare you a little, so you force yourself to be patient and you both go up to your room.

And soon enough you find yourself lying on your bed, with Aemond on top of you, spreading your legs for him, watching with his dilated eye and gently biting his bottom lip your wet pussy ready for him.

"Seven Hells," he growls, running his fingers all over your entrance, "Look at you, you're dripping, princess."

His cock pulses in pain for release, watching you in complete delight as you moan with every movement of his fingers that collects your juices, spreading them all over your pussy, making you wiggle your hips against his hand.

"Aemond, please," you cry, needing to feel it inside you, now.

"What is it, baby? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy hard?"

He teases you, running his fingertips over your hole, making you moan, sigh and groan.

"Please, just fuck me, fuck me with your cock," you implore him.

"Yesah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please!"

"Only because you asked nicely."

He joins in, leaving you needy and trembling on your bed, spread wide open for him, watching as he removes his wet shorts and boxers, completely freeing his entire erect, heavy, hot, hard cock, just for you.

Your mouth waters at the sight and he proudly holds it in his hand, turning to make his way back to you, thrilling and scaring you at the same time as you've never had a cock like Aemond's inside you before.

"Do you take control pills? I don't have a condom."

"Yes, I take them, don't worry," you assure him instantly and he grins.

"Eager, huh?"

"Aemond," you groan and moan at the same time.

"Someone's acting like a little brat," he croons, starting to rub the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you shudder and moan, needing him inside you, "Behave yourself, princess. I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Stop teasing," you whine between whimpers.

When suddenly Aemond enters you in a single hard, firm movement that makes you release all the air in your lungs, moaning loudly at the rough intuition as he pulls it all out of you again.

"What did I say? Stop being a little brat and behave yourself," he warns you.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

You plead desperately and moan as he slams the tip against your pussy, to again enter you fully in a more careful and slower way, letting you feel all of him, making you moan.

"Oh fuck, Aemond," you moan his name, drunk with pleasure, closing your eyes tight.

"Yeah, just like that, squeezing me so fucking good, baby," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He stops once he's all the way inside you, letting you get used to his size, while you feel him pulsing inside you and all his heat flooding through you.

When he rolls his hips in a grunt and his tip touches exactly your swollen clit in need of release.

He leans fully into you, kissing your hot, sweaty skin, just like him, then slides all the way down to your bottom, where you feel every inch of his long, hard cock, moaning into his mouth, as your whole body trembles.

His hands run along your waist and thighs as he lifts both of your legs and places them around his torso, feeling him sink more easily inside you.

"You're so hot, baby. So fucking perfect," he growls against your lips, closing his eye and rests his forehead with yours as he begins his swaying hips back and forth.

"You're so deep," you moan, clinging to his back, lightly digging your nails into his pale skin.

This makes Aemond grunt and feel more desperation as he begins to penetrate you with more rhythm, all the way in, with hard movements that hit exactly that spot inside you that makes you squirm beneath him.

"Yes Aemond, right there," you moan.

"Yeah? Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, yes."

You both gasp into each other's mouths, where then his dark gaze returns to your features and he watches you intently, never ceasing to slam his hips hard and deep against you.

"You're mine now, you know that, don't you?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

His words only make you clench tighter around him and you feel yourself slowly reaching your limit, each onslaught sending delicious waves all over your core that soothes your needy pussy.

"Say it," he demands forcefully, only this time to plunge your cock back into your wet pussy with a hard onslaught that knocks the air out of you, "Say you're mine."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, Aemond. I am yours," you manage to say it, "I am completely yours."

He smiles complacently and contentedly, never ceasing to move for a moment.

"Yes, you are," he croons, "You. Are. Mine," he rams you hard to the hilt on every accentuation, not giving you time to anticipate it, making you moan loudly in pleasure and pain, "And I don't fucking share."

He brings his lips back to your skin, marking and sucking on your breasts and neck even with his heavy cock inside you, fucking you hard and grunting against your ear telling you how tight you are.

He takes you completely over the edge, where your mind goes blank with each thrust, filling you completely, swelling inside you, as both you and he begin to gasp for breath, but he doesn't slow down or change his pace, continuing to penetrate you and press you against your bed.

Until finally everything inside you explodes, you see stars behind your eyes and Aemond's warm semen fills everything inside you, coming with an almost painful grunt in your ear and with a last strong thrust that leaves you drunk with pleasure and makes you forget everything for a moment.

Things didn't end with Aemond there, not at all.

He was honest with you when he told you that he wouldn't hurt you or make you just another girl on his list, just as he was honest in telling you that you are now his and he doesn't share.

After that day in your room, the little secret affair began.

When Aemond comes to your house along with Aegon, you both behave towards each other as you were before, completely indifferent.

You don't even speak to each other and avoid as much as possible to look each other, where no one suspects the two of you. And at school it's the same, although especially there you have to be more careful.

However, you and especially he are not entirely patient, so once you reach your limit, he secretly intercepts you in one of the empty classrooms or labs and you take advantage of that little moment as much as possible.

Even in the library, you both find a secluded corner between the shelves of books and can't keep your hands off each other, where Aemond makes you come on his fingers and sometimes you also dare to suck his cock, hoping not to be discovered.

As far as you know, he has not been seen with other and his usual girls, since almost all the time the two of you are texting each other and sometimes, when Cregan is not at home, you let him know and he comes as fast as he can, not missing the opportunity.

Already being in the four walls of your room, the two of you can do whatever you want without fear of being discovered, where Aemond fucks you against your mattress in all positions.

And sometimes, when things have not been in favor of either of you, he climbs through your window at midnight and unable to hold back any longer, he fucks you silently, silencing your moans with his mouth, hands or cock, since Cregan's room is at the end of the hallway.

And this lasts for a while, all in secret, where you look for small moments to share intimate moments, hidden caresses and soft whispers in your ear that only you and he can hear.

But of course, the good things can't last forever.

Jason Lannister, a friend of Cregan's, throws a Halloween party at his house and practically the entire school has been invited. So you see this as an opportunity to be able to be with Aemond for a few moments of the party.

Cregan dresses up as a wizard and you choose to dress up as a sexy sailor girl with a skirt that exposes your legs, a simple white blouse, you put on your tie and also your hat, and then you and Cregan head off to the party.

You immediately look for Aemond, but he is nowhere to be seen, even though you meet Aegon and his younger brother, Daeron.

However, not to be obvious, you start pouring yourself drinks and talking to your friends, starting to get into the same mood as everyone else because of the music with twinkling lights and also because of the whole decorated house.

You see Aegon talking to Cassandra Baratheon, dresses up as a vampire and she as an angel, then you see Alysanne talking to your brother, dresses up as a bunny, and then you keep looking around the party, not understanding where Aemond is.

You are about to send him a message, when you look absentmindedly towards the kitchen and then, there he finally is, only he is not alone.

Dresses up as a pirate, Aemond is chatting with his ex-girlfriend, the gorgeous Alys Rivers, dresses up as a witch.

You had been enjoying the party, but your mood inevitably changes and also without being able to help it, you feel a twinge of jealousy all over your insides, watching them intently.

They both talk, she occasionally laughs and places her hand on his chest, playfully smacking it, both of them too close, while you see Aemond's grin on his lips at all times, making the knot of jealousy in your stomach tighter.

And, you mean, you can't even blame him, she's Alys Rivers.

When then at that moment your gaze crosses his casually, who slowly wipes away his smile, but you quickly avert your gaze from him as you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to act nonchalant.

But too late, he's already noticed your annoyed look.

However, you quickly make room with Aegon, Cassandra and Daeron, simply to dissemble in front of them and him as well. Then Cregan and Alysanne join in and of course so does he, but you don't even notice him and continue drinking.

You notice how he wants to approach you slyly on a few occasions, but you don't let him, you continue to laugh with Daeron, ignoring him altogether, not wanting to talk or be with him anymore.

Until the hour starts to get late and taking advantage of the fact that one of your friends is already leaving, you ask her to drop you off at your house and she accepts. You just tell Cregan, who nods and you leave the party with your friend.

And once you get home, you take off your costume, take a shower and get ready to sleep, although you should have expected Aemond to start calling you, but you send it to voicemail.

He calls you a couple of times more where you don't answer and you also get severe messages from him that you don't read, to finally leave your phone on mute and try to sleep.

But you barely last a few minutes with your eyes closed, suddenly you hear some sounds at your window.

You sit up confused in your bed, looking at your window, instantly knowing what it is or rather who it is, since only one person has the habit of doing this and you let out a long resigned breath.

Reluctantly you open your curtains and the window, where the figure of Aemond stands down there, watching you confused and attentive.

"What are you doing?" you reproach him sleepily.

"You're not answering my calls or texts," he tells you with some anger in his tone of voice, "And you ignored me the whole party."

You press your lips together in anger as well.

"It semeed to me like you were too busy," you can't help but say with some bitterness.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"It's not what you thin—

"No matter. Go home. I want to sleep," you cut him off, intending to turn away from your window.

"I swear to God Y/N, I'm not leaving until you listen to me," he warns you.

"It's after midnight!" you reproach him.

"Open the door," he demands.

"No," you say firmly.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"I don't care."

"Y/N," he warns you again.

"Stay there all night, I'm not opening for you."

You sentence and finally move away from the window, close it and close your curtains as well.

Feeling no remorse, you settle back into your bed, ready to sleep again, but only a few seconds pass when you hear noise again.

And that's when you realize you should have locked your windows.

You startle and turn your head to watch how Aemond is entering through your windows with the same agility as always, with a serious and threatening look, jumping into your room and you look at him angrily.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"You don't know what you just got yourself into," he says as he makes his way towards you.

"Fuck you," you spit back at him.

"Oh yeah, I just pretend to do that, princess."

"Alys wasn't available at this time that you decided to come and play with me?"

He lets out a long breath, rolling his eye.

"You're getting it all wrong—

"Oh I am?" you inquire, "She's your fucking ex, Aemond. I'm not stupid."

"In fact yes, you are being stupid right now, " he says, coming towards you.

And just before you can escape, he catches you, instantly grabbing you by both wrists, cornering you between him and your bed, climbing on top of you with a mischievous, menacing grin and his pupil fully dilated.

"Let go of me," you gasp, trying to shake him off.

"Listen to me—

"I mean it, get off me and get the fuck out of my house!"

He cocks his head.

"Where did this bratty attitude come from, hm?"

"Aemond," you plead, "Stop it."

"Oh baby," he croons, bringing his lips to your ear, "Can't you see? Can't you see how fucking crazy I am about you?" he murmurs hoarsely.

You try to fight your own urges, telling yourself that you shouldn't let yourself get carried away by him, that he can talk and fuck whoever he wants, while you are only exclusively for him and these are just empty words to convince you.

"Alys and I ended on good terms, we're just friends, it's nothing to worry about," he says earnestly in your ear, as your breath is cut short when you feel his knee make its way between your legs.

"Aemond," you whine.

"But if you want me to stop talking to her, fine, I will," he murmurs in understanding, only to feel his knee press lightly into your pussy, making you moan.

"Oh, A-aemond-" you try to say, feeling so good.

"Yeah, baby? What's wrong? Does it feel good?"

You can't formulate words, especially when he puts more pressure and makes you gasp more, just that making you feel good, only to then feel him drop almost his weight against you and now positioning himself between your legs, he starts rubbing his hard cock inside his pants against you, making you shudder.

Now he gasps along with you, as he lets go of your wrists and slides one of his hands under your shirt, kneading one of your breasts with ease as you sleep without a bra.

You arch your back against him and bite your bottom lip as he begins to leave soft kisses down your neck, never letting go of your touch and never stopping rubbing against you.

"Please, Aemond, please," you beg him, needing him.

He marks the skin of your neck, sucking and sucking, then brings his lips back to your ear.

"Now do you get it, princess?" he says hoarsely, "You're the only one who can make me play this fucking game of hide and seek with your brother and everyone else."

He says honestly, making you moan as he puts more pressure on his hips.

"But you know what? I've had enough and I don't fucking care if Cregan bothers or not. I don't give a shit."

You bring one of your hands to his face and turn him towards you, kissing him with need and depth where he responds in kind, where you are completely delighted by his caresses and words.

And that night Aemond fucks you from behind, hard and fast, while you hold the sheets tightly under you and avoid shushing your sobs and moans too loudly against the pillow, as every time you do, Aemond gives you a hard spank with his hand on one of your ass cheeks as a way of punishment for your bratty attitude earlier.

And he doesn't give you a chance to silence your moans as he gathers all your hair into a fist and makes your back arch, while his other hand takes it to hold your throat firmly and rests his cheek against yours to fuck you with more accessibility, fast and deep, bringing you to the peak several times.

And when it's all over, you melt into the arms of your perfect, official boyfriend.

thank you so much for reading!❤

[brucewaynehater101]

About Tim's kill count: I think Tim tries really hard to be okay with murder. He's accepted that's something other vigilantes do, that sometimes it's the most practical answer. He knows that self defense is a thing, when it's you or them... Well, no one can be blamed for choosing themselves over a villain. He is the smart, logical Robin. He can be rational about murder. Stars know someone has to, and B is too much of an emotional mess when it comes to that particular subject.

So when Tim has to blow up Ra's bases, he tries really hard to be okay with it. He gave them a three minute warning (it's not much, but he knows how fast they are), so technically it's not like it's his fault if they decided to stay. He had to do it, it wasn't even just self defense, he had a civilian hostage to take into account. It was the only logical solution that allowed him to save Batman too. So yeah, he knows his reasoning was completely sound despite the circumstances. Honestly, he deserves Kudos for not losing it considering the amount of stress he was under and the fact he nearly died and lost an organ.

So yeah, he is pretty sure he's okay with it. He knows that if Batman ever truly catches up un his RR reports of that time he's not gonna be happy. He figures he can deal with that (he can't, he can barely deal with his own guilt. Deep down he knows he'll collapse like a wet napkin).

But instead of Batman the one to confront him is Jason having heard from Talia or finding the evidence on an outlaws' mission. And Tim is relieved because this should be easy. Not only is he a master manipulator: Jason is okay with murder, extremely emotional and still feels guilty about Titan's Tower. He's not even on talking terms with B. Tim has the upper hand in this encounter.

Cue to Jason's pov and it's just so painfully obviously that Tim is trying to rationalize the guilt away. Jason doesn't know whether to acknowledge it (the kid looks like he needs to actually talk about it, sue him) or to let him be delusional for a bit longer. He isn't the biggest expert on healthy but that doesn't look like it.

Tim succeeds in getting him to promise he won't tattle to Bruce, and is really proud of himself for handling the situation. Jason is now panicking thinking about what would Bruce do if he finds out (Tim doesn't know the extent of Batman's reaction to Jason killing at first).

(I got a little carried away with the idea of Tim being convinces he's okay with murder and Jason, who is pro murder for certain people, seeing right through him like "Oh honey")

Oh!!! I've seen some fics that cover what would happen if the Bats found out about Tim's kill count or the bases, but I haven't really seen ones with dark/abusive Bruce.

Tw: abuse, murder

Here's what I'm thinking:

Jason is fantastic for being the first to find out. He'd be supportive, understanding, and non-judgemental. He'll have no moral issues with murder. Perhaps he could have some mental breakdowns on the fact his younger brother had to resort to that or the high number of deaths or that someone younger than him had to stain their hands (which could also lead into him finally processing Damian's kills as well), but he wouldn't have any issues with Tim commiting murder.

Then we contrast that with Dick. He doesn't blame Tim. He's fiercely protective of his brother and will beat up anyone who gives Tim shit for it. On the other hand, he does have moral issues with murder. He'd probably have an internal debate with himself. He wants to support Tim, but the kid killed so many people (in this AU). Tim killed in self-defense. Dick has a particular understanding due to his time as a cop, but his vigilante rules have always contrasted with his cop ones (not just killing. Breaking laws, how civilians are treated, who your "allies" are, and whether you can trust your coworkers to do what's right). He's devastated that Tim was in that position and blames himself (maybe even takes those deaths upon his own moral conscience).

Both of them love, care, and support Tim in this. They also have very different ideas about murder.

Tim is also trying very hard to deny to himself how much death is actually on his hands. He's struggling to pretend he's fine and trying to logically convince himself that the deaths are acceptable.

In this AU, Bruce obviously flips the fuck out and acts like a piece of shit. Feel free to hc how far he takes that shit.

However, this has important ramifications against Damian. Whatever his feelings are about Tim at this point, watching his father abuse a kid he adopted (and considers his own) for the sin of killing? For self-defense? What if Damian ever kills again? Would Bruce react the same? What if there was no other choice? Also, does this mean that his father will never truly love him? Will his past always be held over Damian's head? Will Bruce ever forgive him? Is his father's love conditional? To add on, Damian has complicated feelings about LoA as well. He'd need to process the extreme destruction Tim enacted against the LoA. Just Damian having mental breakdowns.

Cass's confliction with murder and her love for Tim could also be added into this. I don't know much about the arc where she becomes a villain, but that would add to her turmoil.

Now, Alfred is a confusing one. How dedicated is he to Bruce? Is this the characterization where he sasses the man, not so subtly hides his guns around the Manor, and will stand up to the man? Or is this the one who will follow Bruce's lead even if it means psychologically torturing his grandkid? Is he somehow both at the same time? Can the kids trust Alfred to protect them or choose them over Bruce?

Babs would be protecting Tim (and the others in their support of Tim) to the best of her ability. In my mind, she's chill about murder due to her dad being a cop and her working with murderers (like Harley). She'd run interference to protect Tim until Bruce finds out, and then she'd be trying to get him away from Bruce.

Anyways, I'd love to see all of the characters, their feelings/experiences, and the conflict expanded on.

[tojiwrd]

6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!

word count 4k

a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3

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Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.

Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 

It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?

“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”

Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.

“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 

You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 

“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”

You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.

Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.

“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”

You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”

You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.

She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 

Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 

Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”

You froze, stunned and silent. 

“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—

“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 

“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 

Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”

You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 

“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”

You were sure you had moved past everything. 

After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 

No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.

Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 

‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 

You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 

You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 

You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?

As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.

“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”

You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 

“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”

“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”

You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”

“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”

You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”

“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”

“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.

But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”

You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”

“But she—”

“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”

You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 

Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 

And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 

By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.

When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 

“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.

He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”

And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 

“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 

You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”

Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 

“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’

“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.

His reply was instant. “Anything.”

“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”

It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”

“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”

“No. How…”

“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”

He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 

“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”

A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 

“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 

“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”

“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”

“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”

And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.

“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“Have that chance at being happy?”

You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 

“I do.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”

You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 

He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 

Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 

“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”

And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.

[sleepyskeleton-0]

SPOILERS FOR STH 3!!!

Scene analysis (heavily focused on Knuckles).

So there’s this scene in Sonic 3 in London where Sonic decides that despite their initial intentions to never use the master emerald anymore, he insists on using it for vengeance (after Shadow hurts Tom).

In this scene Sonic and Knuckles stand head to head and get worked up to the point where they’re charging up their powers, (Tails in kinda in the middle trying to calm them both down).

I got emotional in this scene, like full on tears in my eyes for a split second. Let me tell you why:

This is the scene that shows Knuckles’ endless patience for Sonic and Tails.

We know as an audience that Knux is always eager to go into battle, perhaps even too eager, but when it comes to his siblings, he’s always patient. So when Sonic tries to start a fight with him, he gets riled up at first but then takes a moment to calm himself down.

He refrains from hurting his brother and instead tries to talk to him calmly, to reason with him.

And if that’s not an oldest sibling strait I honestly don’t know what is.

I don’t think some people realise how hard it is to stay calm when your younger siblings are angering you. Like not teasing but properly pissing you off, especially if your sibling is a younger teenager (think 11-14 or 15).

At some point, you as the oldest have to realise that you have to be the calm one because naturally, teens are hormonal as shit and they can’t really help it (sometimes). We’ve all been there and we all know what it feels like to get wound up easily as a kid, and as an oldest child, you didn’t have someone who would calmly deal with you. Your parents would just get angry or chalk it up to a phase, so it’s either too much discipline or none at all for their first kid, then leave them to deal with the others when they grow up (obviously this isn’t the case with the trio here bc they were all taken in as teens so it’s different - the attention Tom and Maggie would’ve shown to them as babies and children are being shown now that they’re actually a family).

So shout out to all my oldest siblings out there, including Knuckles, because it’s like constantly taking punches to the face and actively remaining steady on your feet without letting your anger get the best of you.

This especially goes for a traumatic or high anxiety situation, like Tom’s injury. Sonic’s love for him and his worry and regret is consuming him in this moment and throwing him into a blind rage. Tails is also really worried, and as the youngest, it goes without saying that you try to cushion any pain as much as possible, so he’s not gonna be expected to help. Who’s left then? To help deal with Sonic? Knuckles.

He realises Sonic’s having a hard time, knows what it feels like to lose loved ones, understands the worry of “will they return home?” and how the reality of the situation can hit at any moment and how crippling it can be.

So Knuckles swallows his pride and tries to reason with Sonic.

And it’s really fucking hard to do that. Especially when being put in this position.

This rant feels repetitive but I have to get it out there just how hard it is to do this. At the end of the day, even if we are the oldest sibling, even if we have an obligation to be the bigger person, we still have feelings. All this emotional burden is gonna build up. It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just the position we were born in. It’s our job to be that pillar of strength for our younger siblings, but if you keep throwing small stones at a pillar, eventually it’ll start to chip and crumble. So to have the strength to remain steady is the real superpower.

Like holy shit, talk about dual burden. Knux is also feeling the pain of potentially losing Tom, but he’s still there to comfort and protect his family and also shoulder his own difficult emotions. Because no one was there to do that for him when he needed it the most. He may never have anyone to protect him quite like that, and an older sibling will protect their younger ones even if it means making sacrifices. Remember that parents don’t have the same effect as siblings. Adults can only have so much understanding, but growth moves with the times, and each coming generation develops in unique ways, so grown ups will never grasp the full extent of the younger generation’s struggles, just as us younger people will never understand what they went through and how they dealt with it.

So props to Knuckles, he really is 1000000% muscle, and his most important muscles, his heart and brain, work together incredibly well. He doesn’t have to be book smart, his emotional intelligence makes up for that.

(Disclaimer: this is just my interpretation so just take it with a grain of salt, also sorry for this utterly incoherent rant, I have feelings about this movie- and this silly little echidna.)

[phagodyke]

feeling like maybe screaming as loud and long as I can and falling to the ground and hitting it until I start bleeding or I finally get some attention whichever happens first. who's in

tf is up with me and randomly bursting into tears on weekend afternoons

[blacksorrow-untiltheend]

oh.

Ok.

Hi guys.

My friend and I were on call, and we were rewatching Alien Stage together.

Normal stuff, right?

But then she points out something. Something that I did NOT notice before. Like, at all.

Tw for mentions of SA and abuse

ok. There’s one scene— the scene in Cure, where Till finds out Mizi is missing. If you don’t pay attention, you’ll miss it.

In this part, Till’s already being treated horribly— which, isn’t it normal in a fucked up world where Aliens only see humans as pets, and make them compete for their lives in a singing competition?

In the part after this, His head literally gets shoved down— that’s already a lot of abuse. And, like I mentioned earlier, the aliens only see humans as pets, so isn’t this “normal”?

There’s a frame for maybe two seconds, but you could easily miss it if you blink.

It disgusts me— yeah, the reason this is happening is because he fought back, but the way they’re manhandling him? It’s horrible. And something tells me this isn’t even the first time, depending on how his whole trait is being rebellious? Yeah, he’s definitely gone through this before. and that’s horrible.

This part kinda makes me cry. The alien— for one, has partially no clothes on, besides its jacket. Till looks famished, he looks so tired, it’s so upsetting. Using these two things, we can assume they’ve done something to Till. And based on the hallucination of Mizi, it’s not impossible that he might’ve been drugged. (Less likely, but still.)

This part is me speaking from experience—

The way the Alien pets Till’s hair, as if to “comfort” him, is something a lot of Sexual assaulters do to their victims.

Here’s a reminder; a sexual assaulter can be ANYONE. Friend, family, “trusted” adult, anyone. And they will make the victim feel like it’s their fault. After they’ve done those terrible things to their victims, they won’t always leave them alone. They might treat the victim like a partner would after sexual intercourse— kindly, comfortingly, doing actions that would soothe their partner. They’ll make the victim think that it’s okay, and it wasn’t a big deal.

This is what’s happening to Till. There’s a possibility that he thinks it’s fine, despite being so tired and hurt, because it’s higher ups, it’s his master, or something else. This isn’t quite confirmed but, in my own experience, SA victims can become hostile, and will run or fight if someone tries to touch them. And till? Well, he’s hostile, and he runs away a lot. Right?

And god knows if the others have gone through this too. My goodness.

When Ivan goes to free Till, he’s passed out. They left him there.

That’s what happens with sa victims sometimes.

The assaulter treats the victim so nicely, and then leaves. Because they always leave, eventually. They leave the victim alone, feeling disgusted by themself

I love the way vivinos handled this. Not straight out saying, “oh Till got SA’d”, or something. They showed it, but in a way that not only is it not being sexualized, but it’s also painting a picture of the fact that sexual assault is anything, and it can happen to anyone. It’s a common shit idea misconception for a group of people that “females are the only ones who can get assaulted!” When that’s obviously not the case. Is Till a female? No. Did he go through that? Yes.

Tl;dr — Vivinos is awesome when it comes to handling topics that are big and relevant. And Till deserves a better life

Also, I didn’t give a good explanation, so please go and read other ones that are better.

And if you’re an SA victim, just know; you are not alone.