#don’t play with her when she��s in the zone
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
7 RINGS — yu jimin.

"i see it, i like it, i want it, i got it."
synopsis. it starts with a glance—karina watching you a little too closely, your name slipping into places it shouldn’t. then it becomes a habit, an obsession—one you don’t notice until she’s already too close, too intoxicating, too impossible to resist.
pairing. idol!karina x idol!beefy!fem!reader
warning(s). 18+ (smut), power imbalance, alcohol consumption, reader was supposed to be gp but i got lazy and ended it early, facesitting, reader is a virgin & shy
words. 2.5k
authors note. zhank u for the request i hope u enjoy ok bye thx
navigation. main masterlist. request.
the first time you notice it, you're on stage, mid-performance, sweat slicking the back of your neck as you move through the choreography. it’s not unusual to have idols watching—everyone does it at these joint events—but when your eyes briefly scan the crowd, there she is.
karina.
seated with her members, half-focused on the camera trained on her, the other half on you. she’s watching, eyes sharp, lip caught between her teeth like she’s analyzing every move you make. the moment your gazes meet, her lips twitch up into a smirk, and then she looks away as if nothing had happened. as if she wasn't staring at you so intensely, it was like she could see under your skin.
you don’t know what to think. but the way your stomach swoops is telling.
fancams catch it, of course. the clips flood twitter within the hour:
"karina caught staring again. if y/n goes missing we know who did it..."
"she’s so real for this."
"girl is ovulating.”
you think it’s nothing at first. just coincidence. maybe she’s zoning out. but then it happens again. and again.
at a variety show, she picks your song for the random dance segment. in an interview, she calls your group "her favorite juniors" before the mc can even finish asking. at a fansign, she smiles at the sight of a fan showing her your photocard, almost taking it for herself before she realizes and hands it back.
the more times it happens, the more you start to wonder. why is karina so invested in your group? why does she always seem so attentive during your performances? you never ask her directly—it feels presumptuous somehow—but when your companies start bringing you closer together, you learn to read the signs.
she doesn’t treat you like her junior. not anymore. her gaze is appraising, evaluating—not unkindly, just…intense. and when you're called to the same event or magazine shoot, she speaks to you like an equal, as if you're one of her peers rather than a k-pop rookie. it's strange, but not unwelcome. in fact, you kind of enjoy it.
the night after the performance was a blur: the high from the stage, the adrenaline of the crowd, the dizzy excitement of drinking too much champagne. you were tipsy, giggling a little more than usual, the alcohol warming your blood as you and karina stepped into the same car, heading back to your dorms on different sides of korea.
the drive was quiet at first, but then the laughter started. a joke here, a teasing comment there. she had no qualms about putting you in your place, but she did so with a smile. as if she knew exactly how to make you laugh, even though you'd only interacted a handful of times. it didn't take long for that warmth to spread further, until you couldn't tell the difference between the champagne buzz and the feeling of being around her.
when you got out of the car, you were still smiling. still tipsy. and when she grabbed your hand to lead you inside your dorm, you let her. pulling her back when she tried to leave your room and return to the car outside.
"what?" she asked, voice soft, brows raised. "do you want me to stay?"
the question hung in the air for a moment. a loaded one.
you hesitated. then nodded.
"yeah, can't have you falling over and hitting your head," you said with a light laugh, playing it off as a joke.
but when you met her eyes, you could tell she saw right through you.
"okay," she murmured, lips curling up in amusement. "whatever you say." you could see she was tipsy as well, the pink on her cheeks mirroring yours.
when she closed the door behind her, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. your heart was racing, your skin prickling. you were aware of every inch of space between you, yet somehow hyperaware of how close she was.
then, she stepped forward. closing the gap.
you go still.
and she waits—watching, reading you like she always does, giving you the chance to pull away.
you do, dropping your gaze to the floor. "i uh, i never had my first kiss before."
a pause.
"can i be your first?"
your breath catches in your throat. this isn't what you expected, but you don't know why. because she's karina? because she's older than you? or is it because you've spent the last few months wondering whether this could happen?
you take a deep breath. nod once.
karina smiles. and leans in.
"close your eyes," she murmurs.
you do, and she presses a kiss to your cheek. soft, barely there. testing the waters. you swallow thickly, stomach swooping again, hands instinctively reaching out for her. she's warm under your fingertips, soft against your chest as you lean into her. her lips touch your jaw this time, moving closer to your mouth, teasing. teasing until you turn your head just enough, meeting her halfway.
the first brush of her lips against yours is gentle. so gentle you hardly feel it. but it's enough to send your heart racing faster, to make your head spin with a fresh wave of warmth. when you press closer, she hums softly against your mouth, one hand sliding down to grasp your waist.
the next kiss is harder, deeper, her tongue sliding between your lips. your grip tightens, pulling her flush against you, needing to feel the heat of her body through your clothes. she kisses like she performs: precise, focused, determined. like she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. and you let her guide you, let her control the pace and the pressure, and the way she makes you melt with every stroke of her tongue.
eventually, she pulls back to catch her breath, smiling at the dazed look on your face. her fingers brush your cheek, eyes flickering across your face like she’s memorizing every expression you make. you’re still trying to catch up, still processing what just happened when she leans forward again, brushing a chaste kiss against your lips.
“have you really never had your first kiss before?”
you blink, still dazed. “i—yeah. never kissed anyone before tonight. why did i do something wrong?"
karina laughs softly. "no, of course not. it's cute, that's all."
you blush, feeling embarrassed at her response. being an idol means you don't date, which also means no kissing or anything beyond that. you know most idols have had their first kiss by now, but you've been too busy with music to even think about romance. now that you have experienced it, though, you wish you'd done so sooner. especially if it was going to be karina.
“you’re cute when you’re nervous,” she murmurs, voice just slightly hoarse, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip.
you let out a breathy laugh, trying to mask the way your pulse is hammering. “and you’re—” you stop yourself before you can say something stupid, something that’ll give you away.
karina tilts her head, amused. “i’m what?”
you swallow, shaking your head. “nothing.”
she hums, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t press. instead, she leans in again, her lips just barely grazing your jaw as she murmurs, "tell me when it's too much."
too much? it's already too much, just standing this close to her, feeling her breath on your neck and her hand on your hip. but you don't say that. because you don't want her to stop. so you nod, letting out a shaky breath, and karina smiles against your skin.
she kisses down your neck first, featherlight, teasing. then her teeth scrape along your pulse point, making you shiver as the sensation shoots straight between your legs. you inhale sharply, hands tightening on her hips, and she takes it as an invitation, sucking harder.
"is this okay?" she asks quietly.
you nod. "yeah—" your voice cracks. "yeah, keep going."
her lips twitch against your neck, almost like she's laughing, but then her fingers are curling under the hem of your shirt. slowly dragging up your sides, fingertips leaving sparks in their wake. your breath stutters in your throat, goosebumps breaking out across your skin, and she hums appreciatively at your reaction, nails scraping lightly along the curve of your waist.
karina would admit she's obsessed with you. she knows it's ridiculous, but she can't help herself. the moment she saw you, she was drawn to you. something about you captivated her from the very start, and it only grew stronger over time. when your managers started bringing you together, she found any excuse possible to be around you—to watch you dance, to sing with you, to just see you smile. and now here she is, in your room, with your body pressed flush against hers. it's surreal.
she wonders if you feel it too. the attraction. the pull. but then again, maybe she's reading into things. maybe this is nothing more than curiosity, an experiment to satisfy some teenage fantasy. if so, she'll take what she can get, as long as she gets to touch you.
"wait," you whisper suddenly. she stills, pulling back to look at you. "sorry, i'm just… i wanna make you feel good too."
it's her turn to blush this time, eyes widening in surprise before she regains control of herself. "you sure?"
you nod, biting your lower lip, and karina lets out a soft laugh.
"alright," she murmurs, leaning forward once more. her lips find your jaw again, trailing down to your neck as her hands slide under your shirt. fingers brushing over your stomach, tracing the lines of your ribs, teasing along the bottom edge of your bra. you gasp when her nails dig in, scratching lightly, and she takes the opportunity to bite down on the side of your neck.
"what did you have in mind?" she breathes, hot against your skin.
you hesitate, unsure how much you want to give away. she pulls back to meet your gaze, watching you intently, waiting. it takes a moment for you to gather yourself enough to answer, but then you finally manage to say, "i…uh…can you sit down?"
"sit?" she echoes, raising an eyebrow.
your face heats up instantly. "um…yeah. like, on my face."
her eyebrows shoot up even higher, mouth falling open slightly, like she wasn't expecting that. maybe she thought you were going to ask for something vanilla. or maybe she assumed you weren't ready. either way, she seems pleasantly surprised by your request, and you try not to squirm under her stare.
"okay," she says slowly, grinning. "if that's what you want."
"it is," you confirm. "i've never done anything like this before, but—"
she cuts you off with a kiss, one hand coming up to cradle your cheek. it's gentler than before, softer. as if she's savoring the taste of your lips, the feeling of you pressed against her, the sound of your breath hitching when her tongue brushes against yours. you whimper quietly, clinging to her tighter, and she smiles into the kiss.
"i'll be gentle," she promises, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "unless you ask me not to be."
you shiver at the thought, stomach twisting in anticipation, but instead of responding, you simply reach down and tug at the hem of her shirt.
she chuckles, amused. "eager?"
"a little," you admit.
"alright."
she moves back and starts removing her clothes. first her top, revealing smooth, toned skin underneath, followed by her jeans, until she's left in nothing but a pair of panties.
your mouth goes dry at the sight.
"like what you see?"
you swallow, nodding. "yes."
she pushes you backward gently, guiding you toward the bed. you lay down on the mattress, head resting on the pillow, and she crawls after you, straddling your lap. your eyes flicker across her body, drinking in every inch, until finally they settle on the dark stain between her legs.
your hands tug at the band of her panties, trying to pull them down, and she helps you, shifting forward so she can lift one knee up, giving you access. once her underwear is gone, you let your gaze wander again, staring at her center. she's slick and glistening, and the sight makes your head spin.
she shifts forward until her thighs bracket your face, hovering above you. you can feel the heat radiating off her body and smell the faint scent of arousal lingering beneath the perfume on her skin. you breathe in deep, reveling in the way your head spins from the mixture of sensation and scent, and then reach up, hands finding her hips and tugging her down onto your face.
the first touch of her bare skin against your lips is electric. hot and slick and wet, sending a shockwave through your body. you gasp softly, tongue instinctively darting out to taste her, and she shudders, her grip on the bedframe tightening.
"s-shit," she mutters. "that's so hot." you hum in agreement, the vibrations making her twitch above you.
your arms wrap around her legs, holding her steady against your mouth. she wishes she can see the way your biceps flex when you grip her hips, the way the veins in your hands stand out, the way the muscles in your forearms bunch as you keep her still. she can feel them, though, and it turns her on even more, knowing how strong you are. how easily you could hold her down if you wanted.
she can feel the pleasure building already, spreading through her body like wildfire. your tongue is eager, greedy, devouring her without hesitation, and it feels better than she expected.
"god, you're so good at this," she groans, rolling her hips slightly.
you moan again, the praise going straight to your core, and she can't help herself. she rocks down against you, grinding against your face. the sudden movement makes her gasp, pleasure shooting through her body, and you hold her tighter like you don't want her to move. which is true. you love the feeling of her weight on top of you, the taste of her on your tongue, and the scent of her filling your senses.
"oh god," she whimpers, thighs shaking slightly. "please."
your hands move to her ass, pulling her even closer. she cries out when your tongue slips inside her, hips bucking involuntarily. she tries not to grind down on your face too hard, but you seem to enjoy the way her muscles clench around your tongue, and she can't stop herself.
"please," she repeats, desperate.
you moan again, tongue working faster, harder, deeper, until she can't take anymore. her entire body trembles, the tension coiling tightly within her before snapping, sending her crashing over the edge. she moans loudly, riding your face, chasing her release as she shakes and twitches and gasps.
her orgasm lasts for several seconds, her legs quaking uncontrollably. finally, she collapses forward, leaning against the headboard.
"fuck," she breathes, panting. "holy shit."
you pull away, licking your lips clean, and grin. "yeah?"
she laughs weakly. "yeah." then, her eyes travel down your body, taking in the sight of you, and her expression shifts from blissful to predatory.
"take off your clothes."
#bytemee works#karina x reader#karina smut#aespa karina#jimin x reader#yu jimin#yu jimin x reader#aespa x reader#aespa smut#kpop smut#smut#sub!reader#karina x fem reader#karina x you#karina x y/n#yoo jimin#aespa x fem reader#aespa x you#aespa x y/n#fem reader#female reader#wlw smut#x reader#one shot
567 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Would Climb Every Mountain With You
Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R
14K of fluff and fun

For those interested this is the song that played in my head throughout the inception of this one;
You shoved the last of your gear into your duffel, relishing in the zipping sound that pierced the silence of your sparsely occupied apartment.
This was a quick turn around, even for you.
You were back for your nans 82nd birthday which was in a few days and to catch up with your friends and family.
You’d barely been back on UK soil for 18 hours, in your Cumbria flat for only 15, when you got a call offering you a trip as a tour guide in the Pirineus Aragonese, otherwise known as the Spanish Pyrenees, for 3 nights.
Usually you’d ignore such a request at this point in your career but for a 3 day trip there were more 0’s than you would expect on the pay packet. Too many to refuse.
You were one of the best in the business, so trampling around the low level bases of a fairley commercial mountain range was a bit novice for you.
These days you find yourself in the thin air over 6000 meters, or in a remote rainforest, or trekking through the Sahara, guiding millionaire white men who made the move from being armchair adventurers to have-a-go adventurers in the very safe manner which your expertise offered.
You did it because those IT consultants, those bankers, those surgeons, paid well.
Very well.
Well enough to fund your explorations.
To go to those heights that really drove you. 8000 metres. The death zone. Where the air was so thin you couldn't stay long or your brain would lose oxygen.
Or the amazon, making contact with a tribe to warn them of encroaching foresters.
Or to the arctic. To witness the last of the planet untouched by man.
As you shut the door behind yourself, barely even checking it locked. Fuck. You thought, as you downloaded the boarding pass sent to you.
Your mum was going to kill you.
But god. You loved the outdoors.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I hate the outdoors!”
Alexia growled smacking a hand against her forearm, trying in vain to swat the midgie which was trying to make her blood its next meal. She hated the high pitched zoom that travelled past her ear as it moved back through the mini bus to try and find a more peaceful meal out of one of her teammates.
“We know Ale…” a tired voice from next to her groaned “you’ve mentioned it once, twice. Maybe a thousand times.” Mapi rolled her head off of her girlfriend's shoulder where she had been in a light doze. Interrupted by her captain's loud complaints.
“I’m just saying.” Alexia continued to grumble “I don’t know why Jona is making us do this. Team Bonding? We are a very bonded team already! I make you all pancakes on sundays!”
Mapi rolled her eyes at the blondes protests. She’d heard all of this before since Jona had announced the 3 day team bonding trip at the start of pre season. She could recite Alexia's complaints by heart.
“I’m excited.” She shrugs, eyes cast over her girlfriend who had moved to nuzzle into her side.
“Traidora” The captain replies, eyes gazing out of the fast moving countryside out of the window. She felt worse and worse the more they moved away from the city into the endless empty space around her. She could feel civilization leaving her grasp as the bars of signal went down on her phone. “You’ve been brainwashed by your nordic girlfriend.” She lets out simply. Ignoring Mapis' offended scoff and dodging the light slap sent her way.
“Behave Maria.” A tired voice let out, without opening their eyes. Like a school child who had been told off, the tiny defender backs down and settles back into her girlfriend's shoulder. And if Alexia sticks her tongue out at her like a toddler then well. Who can provide it?
“God” she thought to herself as she settled her head back against the vibrating glass, starting a mental countdown of when she would return to her city center apartment “I hate the outdoors.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I probably should buy new walking boots.” You thought to yourself as you clambered out of the minibus which dropped you and your small team at the muster point. Your boots fit like a glove but they did look a little worse for wear. All scratched and battered. The green laces prominent against the dark brown leather.
Who are you kidding? You knew you would never buy new boots.
You could still make out the scratch deep in the leather where you hooked your foot behind a rock as you careered down a shale summit when you were still a novice. A mark against the toe protection where a dog in the Andes got a bit too friendly and attacked your foot. Nah. These boots were the closest friend you had.
A rumble of a car cut against the silence of the mountains around you and you could just make up another mini bus trudging up the mountain pass from the elevation you stood at. You had a few minutes before the clients arrived.
“Who ‘av we got then?” you asked and you turned to face Rio, your long-time guiding partner when you were in this part of the world.
Full name Mario he was a kind man in his 40’s who lived for bad 80s music and loved his kids more than you thought any human was capable of love.
“I am unsure, Mi Amiga. I just got the paperwork that told me it was a team of 23 ladies. They assured the operator we have no fitness issues. They have translators in the group, multiple languages so we're best sticking with English. I have all the health forms here, everything looks good. Some dietary requirements but nothing we can’t handle”
Huh. A weird group. 23 fit women with translators in the group? Weird.
“Women. Rio. We prefer the term women.” you gibe him, “Urght. 23 women is a lot. I hope it isn’t a hen party. Penis straws aren’t my thing, if you know what I mean.” you knock your elbow into his ribs and let out a cackle.
You were very very gay. A fact that wasn’t lost on Mario as he had unfortunately been witness to more than a few hook ups after expeditions over the years.
“Si, I know what you mean, that rock over there knows what you mean, tu idiota.” he replied, rolling his eyes and moving to help the team with the checklist of essentials.
Your knee deep in gas canisters and spare tent pegs by the time the mini bus holding the clients arrives.
You untangle yourself with a sheepish smile to Rio as you move to meet the van and he moves to tidy your mess. He’s the practical guy. You’re the nice guy. It's your job to go and meet the clients and explain the expedition and answer any questions.
“Hol… Holy shit.” you start. What you intended to be a lively welcome in your best spanish quickly got lost on your tongue with each woman who exited the van.
Fucking hell. These women were gorgeous.
Specifically the last women to emerge from the van. All blonde hair and hazel eyes.
And tattoos.
And fit.
And tall.
And. Not to be a dick about it. Very gay.
You shake yourself out of it. Come on. Be professional. Stop being a gross guy. You scold yourself.
You turn to Rio who’s finishing up with all the kit who laughs at your expression; “Not a hen party then?”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“... so on day two we will reach the gorge, follow the treeline across the ridge, through the forest finding some good places to camp and then finally end in Arén. Where your bus will meet you and take you back to Barcelona. Is that good?”
The group lets out a murmur of agreement and an enthusiastic “Fantastic!” is heard above everyone else and Alexia rolls her eyes.
“Mapi, you really need to control your girlfriend. If you're not careful she's going to run away into the wilderness.” she mutters to her best friend.
“Shut up Ale.” Mapi hisses back, but it isn’t missed by Alexia how Mapi slowly inches herself closer to her girlfriend and hooks her fingers through the waist strap of her backpack, as though physically stopping her from leaving her, renaming herself Hedi and living the rest of her days in the mountains.
Alexia lets out a scoff of laughter, which was louder than she intended.
“There, at the back. A question?”
Suddenly Alexia finds the eyes of the team watching her, most with a glint in their eyes as they were all victims to her complaining over the last few weeks.
Listen. She's not bothered she has 22 sets of eyes on her.
She's used to it. Especially these eyes. She's their captain.
That's not what causes her mouth to dry up and her pulse to race.
No. That's you.
For the first time since getting out of the van Alexia looks up and sees your gaze directed straight at her. Holy shit. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
And she had seen a lot of women.
But you, standing there in your khaki shorts, simple vest top, hair tied up and a bandana and dirty old boots took her breath away.
You gave off an aura of cool. Dark raybans perched on your face and muscles rippling against a backpack bigger than you.
You were the coolest woman she had ever seen.
“Sorry, the paperwork said everyone would understand English, or had access to a translator. That's my fault. Can someone translate? Or I can spe-”
A ripple of laughter goes through the group but its Mapis cough and small kick that pulls Alexia out of her stupor.
“Vaya, I understand, lo siento, no. No questions here. Just. So excited to get going! Vamos Amigas!” Alexia cheerfully ended, ignoring her teammates' confused faces at her complete 180 as she hoisted her backpack on and threw you her most dashing smile.
Maybe she could make something out of this weekend after all.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You threw a smile past 3 of your group on the trail as you made your way down the mountain.
“Hola chica’s” you let out cheekily, throwing a wink at the three, who had quickly become your favourites.
You loved love and you could see how much the small brunette you learned was Mapi hung onto every action of her girlfriend. Ingrid's enthusiasm was one you shared, born of a childhood spent outside and Alexia.
Well.
Alexia was a mystery. Quick to smile and eager to please but there was something there. So confident and yet you could make out the blush on her cheeks at your innocent wink.
And god. Was she gorgeous. Chiselled and…stay professional!
They made a very likable trio and you had been spending most of your hike with them so far but you had to share the love and you left them behind a few miles ago to go scout out the front of the pack.
This was how you and Mario worked. You would take it in turns to be at the front and the back of the group - keeping everyone together and pacing everyone so they remained in a close-enough group to manage safely whilst not hampering or rushing anyone.
You’ve got to admit.
These girls were fit.
Even you found it difficult to keep up.
Though, to be fair you had to hike double with the overlapping on the hillside and your pack that weighed about 6 extra stone.
Still, you wouldn’t swap this job for the world. You thought to yourself as you spied the last team member a few metres down the mountain you halted and waited for them to reach you. Feigning that you were just taking in the view so that they didn’t feel bad about being at the back.
Someone has to be.
“Don’t worry about it” you let out easily at Pina and Patris apologies, “You guys are doing it the right way. Take in the view! We’re hours ahead of schedule”.
And you were. These girls really were athletic. You really should find out what the hell they do for a living.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Capi, what are you doing now?” Mapi grumbled as Alexia came to a stop.
She tosses her bag down and rummages through it, picking out a small bottle and spraying herself quickly before hiding it away.
“Vamos Mapi, you go up. I’m just… taking a moment.”
“No problem Alexia, we can wait with you. Is it your knee? Are you okay?” Ingrid's kind voice asked, her brows furrowed in concern for her captain.
“Si Si I am good it’s just…”
“Ah! I know!” Mapi exclaimed “the sudden buen humor. The changes in pace. I can’t believe it! Capi has a crush! With the mountain boss lady! Wait… is that perfu…”
Mapi is quickly silenced by Alexia's large hand covering her mouth as the captain looks down the mountainside in concern. You’ve passed them and are out of view and she hopes out of earshot.
“Callate idiota” she hisses “Ew!” She pulls her hand away and wipes it on her shorts whilst Mapi grins cheerfully, her tongue safely back in her mouth.
“I do not! It is good to feel nice, that's all. I am just taking a moment. Please. Ingrid. Take her away before I push her down the mountain.”
Alexia pleads to the Norwegian, who is more than happy to grab her girlfriend's hand and continue the best weekend of her life, explaining all about the different types of trees they would see as Mapi hangs on her every word.
Alexia isn’t alone for long until she hears your peel of laughter as you round the corner with the two meneces that were Patri and Pina.
You say something that makes Patri laugh and she shoves you playfully to one side which makes Alexia's heart jump into her throat.
“Ay! Idiota! Do not push her! She could slip!”
She takes your bark of a laugh and the soft look you give her happily, embracing the warm feeling that it makes in her chest.
“Sorry Capi.” Patri mocks, saluting with a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Alright. That's it. What the hell do you guys do? You’re all mega fit, speak about 15 different languages and now you’re introducing this insane leadership structure. Is this some sort of new-age google thing?” you ask, incredulously, hands on your hips and question in your eyes.
There's a moment of silence and then all three of them burst into laughter at the same time.
“What? What did I say?” you ask. “What do you think we do jefa de montana?” Pina asks, as you all continue your hike upwards.
“I don’t know… really rich estate agents?” you ask, prompting more laughter from the group. “Erm… oh! I know! You’re all personal trainers in old folks homes but you’re taking it really, really seriously? OH! I know” You’re all spies!” you exclaim, just to hear Alexias laugh again. Which you are rewarded with.
“No tonta. We are all footballers. We are the Barcelona Femini first team!” Alexia lets out, arms wide, all three of them pausing with expectant looks on their faces in your direction.
“Ah. Makes sense. Cool.” you let out, smile their way and continue leading them up the mountain.
You sense you’re walking alone all of a sudden and turn to see all three of them standing like fishes, mouths open staring incredulously at you.
“What? What's wrong?” you call down.
“Footballers, you strange mountain woman! It’s more than cool! We’re the best in the world!” Patri lets out, incredulously.
It’s your turn to bark out a laugh. “Ha! Sorry chicas, I promise I will be suitably impressed once we reach camp” you wink as you all continue upwards, a peaceful silence settling over the three of you.
“I’m more of a rugby person anyway.” you break the silence.
A moment of pregnant pause.
“Push her off the mountain Patri.” Alexia orders, jovially. “On it Cap!”
You cackle as you run away from the three chasing footballers and the only thought that is running through your head is, ‘God, Alexia smells good.’
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ella es tan bonita” Alexia mutters to herself, as she watches you from across the clearing, after helpfully dumping herself outside of Ingrid and Mapis tent as Ingrid sets the whole thing up as well as going behind Mapi and re-clipping all of the clips and double checking all the poles, whilst ensuring Mapi doesn't see her.
“Ay, Capi. Stop creeping and come help. Or set up your tent, you need somewhere to sleep.” “I will, I will” Mapi takes a seat next to her captain who doesn't look like she's moving from her perch anytime soon.
“So, you’re in love, si?”
“Si…” Alexia lets out dreamily, “Wait. No! Shut up, I didn't say that.”
Mapi opens her mouth, ready to tease the hell out of her captain before… “We heard nothing Ale, don’t worry” Ingrid lets out from inside the tent. Mapis' mouth closes with a small frown at the idea of her teasing ammo being taken away from her.
“She is so cool though.” Alexia continues, “You know, she’s been to the arctic three times? And climbed 4 of the worlds highest summits. 4 of them? One on her own!”
“We know Ale,” Ingird responded, kindly, appearing from the tent “You’ve told us a dozen times. Come on. Let’s see if she needs help with anything.”
Alexia moves as though she’s just intercepted a stray pass in front of goal.
Rapid.
You stand, ignoring the aching in your back as you put the finishing touches onto the makeshift fire pit.
You’d spent the last hour scouting and setting up camp for the group. Mario was off helping some of the girls set up their tents for the night.
You both preferred the ease of a hammock slung between two trees with a mosquito net being the only thing between you and the stars. That meant you were both able to carry more provisions for the group and set up your camps quickly before moving on to help the clients.
“Do you need any help at all?” you hear accented english, you turn and Ingrid offers you a kind smile. “No, no you’re good guys, make yourselves at home.” you gesture to the logs that had been moved into a semi circle around the firepit. Logs collected by Mario waiting for the night to arrive.
You're on your knees setting some water to boil as you hear an annoyed grumble and a slap of skin “mierda!”. You turn on your knees and find yourself faced with Alexia, sitting on a log near you losing a one woman battle against a thousand midges.
“You must taste nice.” It takes you a minute of the blonde blushing and red face to realise what you’ve said. You stand and move to sit next to her “No! No sorry I didn’t mean… I mean…” you take a deep breath and…. “You smell nice.”
Mapis' bark of laughter makes you roll your eyes good naturedly, the blonde next to you still looking at you somewhat star struck.
“No really Alexia…” you move closer and breathe the blonde in, she smells sweet, floral…. Stay professional!
“That’s why they’re attracted to you. Your smell, and…” you move slowly, gently and take her arm in yours… “some people just react to the bites more, this looks like it could become sore.” you brush over a large, reddening bite on her inner arm.
Alexia, meanwhile, is acting as though your touch isn’t setting her blood on fire. She’s apparently chosen to hide this by just staring at you, wide eyed. Another midgey lands on her skin and you feel her arm tense in your grasp as she moves to swat it but you hold firm.
“Ey ey, there's more of them than you and we’re in their territory. Take only pictures, leave only footprints and kill…”
“Nothing but time!” Ingrid jumps in, excitedly, “Yes Ing, that's the one” you reply, as Ingrid sits proudly. “Mascota del maestro.” Mapi teases her.
You move your attention back to Alexia, “Ale, you should go and wash off, there will be a stream over there, looking at the treeline and the game track marks. It’ll take the sweetness from your skin. It will help, I have some antihistamine you should take when you get back and I'm sure I smelt some wild garlic growing just as we entered the clearing. It acts as a repellent, I will go forage some and add it to your meal tonight. It will help for the rest of the trip.”
“No, I’ll be fi….” you move to stand, gathering your wilderness knife and attaching it to your hip. “I wasn’t asking Alexia. I’m in charge here, Captain. I know what I’m doing, now go. Please”
Alexia isn’t told what to do often.
Yes she has a coach and she has trainers but she is the captain.
The expert.
But your kind and gentle nature just became firm in front of her eyes. This was your world and it was clear you knew what you were doing in it. She felt like a puppet as she stood obediently and made her way to the stream.
As she stood there, in only her underwear in the cold water, listening to the distant laughter of her teammates and overlooking the most beautiful blue-green water of the gorge beneath the mountain side. She kind of understood this whole outdoorsy thing. It was peaceful, she could hear her thoughts. Alexia was never alone. There was always someone fighting for her attention, needing something from her.
But here, she felt like her mind had gone quiet. And she could think. And breathe.
She was feeling somewhat light and philosophical by the time she made it back to the firepit.
You look up from your pan and see the silhouette of the tall Barcelona captain making their way over. She looks lighter somehow. Hair hanging limp softens her features and her face is bare, making her look somehow more beautiful. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and start to plate up the meal for everyone.
You feel Mario next to you; “Ay, smells goods, some of your best work Mi Amiga.” He mutters to you, shoving your shoulder gently, “ooh we’ve got fancy with the spices, si? Someone to impress” he obnoxiously wiggles his eyebrows at you and you very maturely, in your opinion, ignore his teasing in order to stir some sauteed garlic through one of the bowls. “Go give that to your apalastar. I’ll hand out the rest” he orders.
“I don’t have a crush” you hiss, even as you gather two bowls and make your way over to the blonde. Alexai looks up as you stand above her, seemingly having interrupted her thoughts. You offer a smile as you pass her a steaming metal bowl.
“Chicken and rice” you state, as you take a seat next to her, “with extra garlic, as promised” you smile as you start to shovel food into your mouth.
You take a moment with your eyes closed like you do before every meal before tucking in. Mario tells you that you eat like a wild dog who’s just found an open trash can, you don’t care, you love your food, especially after a long hike day cooked over an open fire.
“How do you know these things?” Alexia asks. You make the universal noise of; ‘huh’? And eye her curiously. “The garlic. The stream. How do you know?”
“Ah, it’s my life.” you reply, “I grew up in rural England. Me and my brother would go for hikes for days at a time. Not much else to do. I learnt how to read the land. You get used to it…” a beat of silence, “the solution is always around.”
Now it's Alexia's turn to let out a confused grunt, around a mouthful of chicken.
“In nature. Nature always provides what you need. If it creates a problem, it will create a solution. That's why I love it so much. Sunburn? Mud is the best sunscreen money can’t buy. Stuck in a monsoon? You’ll be saved by a cave to shelter in that's carved by the same weather that's trying to kill you. Mosquitos making you their next meal? Garlic will grow and act as a repellent. You just need to learn to read the signs. That's why I love it so much.”
Alexia grows quiet, and you can’t quite place the look she's giving you.
It’s open, and you feel maybe you shared too much so revert back to what you know. As you scrape the metal bowl clean you pull out a blister pack and present them to the footballer. “Sometimes, though, the answer is in a pharmacy in Perpignan” you grin cheekily and enjoy the blondes blush and laugh as she pops an antihistamine and swallows it.
You root into your pocket and pull out some bite cream.
“May I?” you gesture towards her arm as you see she has finished her meal. She nods and presents you with her arm where an angry looking lump had formed. You grunt in sympathy as you carefully apply the cream. Making soothing motions with your thumb making sure the cream is absorbed fully.
You struggle to remain professional with the blondes soft skin under your hands. And you struggle to pull them away. You don’t know what comes over you as you gently blow on the bite to sooth it. You don’t think you’re alone in your feelings as you hear a sharp intake of breath from the blonde, and feel goosebumps rise under your fingertips.
“I’m sorry, It helps to cool the area, it’s feeling a little hot” as you pull your hands away.
Alexia seems to be in a daze but you catch her eye as she lets out “eres tan caliente”. It’s quiet, under her breath and you see her eyes widen as she realises she's spoken aloud. “Pardon?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her.
“Oh sorry, nada, nothing. Thank you for your help. It feels better already. You’re really good at this.”
You smile at her happily, a proud buzz in your stomach at making her feel better, you're interrupted from any reply by Mario shouting your name across the fire pit. And that's when you realise you have 22 other clients all around, and you had kind of left your colleague to deal with them all.
Which makes it easier for him to convince you to fulfil his request. He always does this. And he knows you hate it. As he shakes the ukulele he’s carried up a frigging mountain at you. You can’t really deny him.
“Come on chica! Show the girls what you can do!”, you take it from him as you roll your eyes good naturedly as you settle back down, closer, somehow to Alexia, you can feel your thigh touch hers as you try to pretend that is isn't setting your world on fire.
Alexia pretends that she can’t see Mapis' eyes light up and eyebrows wiggle at her from across the campfire.
As the stars start to make an appearance you serenade the group with campfire songs you grew up on, some songs that Mario sings along with you, you strum as Mapi excitingly dances around the campfire and you continue into the night as your fingers start to ache. Lucy even teaches you the Barcelona anthem, which you murder, but it's worth it to see the laugh in Alexia's eyes.
You don’t mind making a fool of yourself if that's your result.
You feel the blonde slump more into you as the night goes on, and you feel the tension between you both increase. However, when you look across to catch her eyes you see that she's practically asleep as she sits.
“Hey, Ale” you mutter as Pina takes a turn on your ukulele, rousing her from her light sleep, “come on, the tablets can make you drowsy. You need to get to sleep.”
“Oh, no. But I don’t want to miss anything.” she mutters, cutely, you don’t think she’d be so open unless she was completely exhausted. “And I need to set my tent up.”
“Don’t worry, I set it up for you when you were in the stream.” you respond, easily, and there's that look again, the one that puts your stomach into knots and makes you unsure of what you’ve said, so you continue, “It’s next to Mapi and Ingrids. I thought you’d want their protection from the bears.”
“Bears?!” she exclaims, which brings everyone's attention to the both of you, 23 worried looking footballers now looking in your direction as you bark out a laugh.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” you respond, to all of them, hands raised as a sign of peace. They settle down… “well actually I’m not, but what did you think the singing was for!”
Mario is the only one that snorts out a laugh.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexia wakes up hot.
And thirsty.
She opens her eyes and takes a moment to remember herself and where she is. But as she hears the light chatter and banging of pans outside it comes back to her.
Last night, sitting around the firepit by your side, one she had gotten over how hot the vision of you playing the instrument was, she was being lulled into a drowsy state by your gentle singing, the stars shining above and the warmth of your body by her side.
She remembers your hands on her skin, causing goosebumps and her stomach to flutter, somehow those hands in the middle of a literal mountain range made her feel more safe than the most experienced medical professional in the most high-tech sports facilities ever could.
She remembers finding her tent from where you had set it up. Citronella candle burning outside keeping the bugs away, everything zipped up safely, and then seeing how you had set the inside up.
Sleeping bag open and inviting, all her bags set neatly, essentials on top of her bag, hiking boots sitting on pegs she definitely did not bring to air them and stop any creepies crawling into them. Water next to her cot.
God. She was in trouble.
As she crawled into the porch area she found a small metal bowl with what looked like a cut up cactus in it, goop oozing from it. She picked the bowl up and made her way over to her best friends, who were tucking into a breakfast of granola and fruits out of similar bowls to that in her hand.
“Hey, Ingrid. Nature lover. What's this?” She holds the bowl up with a curious eyebrow.
“I think you mean Hola Ingrid, How are you this morning?” Mapi grumbles, whilst her girlfriend rubs her knee and shushes her kindly, Alexia looks at her expectantly.
She takes the bowl and a smile overtakes her face, “This is Aloe, Ale.” “Aloe Ale? Are you making fun of me?” Ingrid smiles again, “No, Ale, it's Aloe Vera, it's the gel from the Aloe Vera plant. It's got healing properties and… good for sunburn, reducing irritation and swelling, some may say good for insect bites?”
“Oh, well thank you then Ingrid, that's really kind.” Alexia hums, happily.
“Ale. I love you, but I didn’t collect this.” Ingrid smiles, Mapi looks on in glee and not-at-all subtly points in your direction.
“It was the jefa de montana!” She whisper-shouts, “I woke up early and saw her coming back with that cool knife of hers… Hey… Ingri…?”
“No Maria. You cannot have a knife.” Ingrid lets out, not looking away from her breakfast.
Alexis misses Mapis' sulk, as well as the loving bickering between her two best friends, because she is distracted by you, sitting across the camp entertaining Jana and Vicky. Seemingly a boundless source of energy and knowledge. You must feel someone's eyes on you because you look up and it feels like you look directly into Alexia's soul.
She holds the bowl up with a shy smile and mouths thank you, and she re-iterates to herself how well as truely fucked she is as as you send a wink her way which makes her knees weak.
“Oh estoy jodida”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You smile as you waved the girls off from camp, it being your turn to stay behind and finish packing up the provisions and bringing up the rear of the group. With Mario leading the charge down into the gorge where you would make camp tonight.
It was your favourite day of the trek today, and you were excited about the girls reaction to the camp set up this evening. You expect that you would get there earlier than expected with these super-fit professional athletes, which would give you all more time to explore the lake. You found yourself looking forward to a certain blonde's face as she took in the view, the mountain above reflecting into the water.
It really was beautiful.
You knew yourself very well. That's the thing about being an explorer. You have to know yourself, you spend a lot of time alone and with your thoughts. You need to know your limits. Assess your feelings. Is this the half-way mark of my endurance? Do I need to turn around now? It was important for survival.
And with everything you've done you're not sure you’ll survive the next two days with Alexia Putellas.
You found her disarming. She was stoic but kind. She was serious but hilarious. Strong but vulnerable. She was stern but looked at you so softly it made your heart melt.
She was a woman of contradictions in the best way.
And you wanted to wrap your arms around her and keep her safe. Yeah, it was your job to keep everyone on this trip safe. But it wasn't your job that made you trek back 2 miles this morning to harvest the Aloe you saw yesterday. Or take an extra 20 minutes to set her tent up making sure she had everything that she didn't know she needed.
You knew why you did it, but you don’t think you were ready to be that honest with yourself yet.
You finished packing up camp and making sure there was no trace of your group and then continued along the trail. You thought you had a few hours before you encountered any of the famous fucking footballers you were guiding on account of most of them all being fucking olympians, but it hadn’t been more than 90 minutes before you spotted the same person who was clouding all of your thoughts.
“Hola Capi!” you shouted down the trail below you, you didn’t want to spook her and get to close as she looked lost in her thoughts, gazing down to the lake below.
“Ah, Hola Jefa de montaña” a smile overtaking her features. “I didn't expect you to be at the back, Capi” you tease, nudging her and continuing along at her side, “the young’uns making you feel old?”
There's that laugh again. The one that seems to fill a hole in your heart.
“no por supuesto que no, solo soy….” she trails off as you look at her curiously.
“Ah, lo siento, you don’t speak spanish, I’m just taking my time, enjoying the view, no rush, si?” she asks you, completely misinterpreting your look. You go to correct her but she speaks before you have a chance,
“So, where's your favourite exploration been?” and if there's anything that you can yap on about. It's your adventures.
Alexia loves the way your face lights up, loves the way that your whole body thrums with excitement. The way you describe the sights, sounds, smells of your travels. Her heart drops when you tell tall tales of alligator attacks in the south american swamps, her laughter bubbles as you tell her about accidental orders of bizarre and unusual foods in china, she blushes as you describe being run out a village in mongolia for sleeping with the mayor's wife (completely accidental of course).
You tell a story with your whole body, arms flailing and actions where appropriate. The time flies and the environment around Alexia is lost to the beauty she finds in your excitement.
You finally pause for breath and the silence makes you realise how long you have been speaking for.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I haven't stopped talking - ple…”
“Do not apologise” Alexia interrupts, “I like to hear you speak, your stories are so…” she struggles to find the word and takes a moment “...colourful. And exciting.” she snaps her fingers, happy with herself.
“Exciting, me? Maybe. You though. Football, huh? That must be amazing. Free to travel the world… all of your adoring fans, huh?” you wiggle your brows and nudge her again, but her coy smile doesn’t appear like you expected it to.
She grows quiet, hand playing with the long grass as you both stroll by.
“Ah. Maybe. I thought so, but now… I’m thinking, maybe I am not so free?” she poses it as a question, and eyes lift to your face, and then her surroundings.
“I love football. Football is my life. But the other things… ah. I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I could walk down to mi Mamis without wearing a cap, or a hood. Just… go. You know?”
You do know. You couldn’t imagine such restrictions. Your spirit is a free one. And Alexia seems caged. Caged and wanting to break free.
“I get it, Ale.” your use of her name brings a blush to her face. And a smile you want to keep there. “Tell me about football.” you request, simply.
“What about it? It is the most beautiful game in the world! You are English, a good football nation, it’s coming home? No?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you do. “I’m from the countryside. Football is played in cities. I cannot think of any football team not named after a City.”
“Football is played everywhere! It's the game of the Earth”
“Is it?” you ask, “tell me.” you request again.
And off she goes, she tells you how she loves her team, the fans, Barca, how the game brought her close to her father and she feels closer to him as she continues to play. You enjoy the excitement in her voice as she makes you both stop as she uses a stick to explain the offside rule. You force a cereal bar into her hand and make sure you both drink water as you go. Seamlessly, as she continues to talk about her life's passion.
Before you know it you notice the placement of the sun and realise you have nearly completed the miles for the day. You are shocked that you haven’t run into any of her teammates, though you suppose, you have both been walking slower as you chatted.
Though, that does mean you have left Mario with 23 clients. Fuck you owe him.
“The way you talk about it, It does sound like a beautiful game, capi.” you summarise, as she finishes telling you about the football camps for underprivileged kids she visits.
She pauses and looks into your face. The moment grows less jovial than the whole day had been and you hear Alexia whisper, “Eres hermosa”. “Huh?” you let out, surprised. “Oh, da nada, nothing. Sorry, I don’t usually speak too much English…”
“Ah, Capi!” you hear a third voice, raised across the clearing you had just entered, a canopy of trees above and now you are at the lake shore.
You are both shaken out of your trances as you realise you have made camp, and by the looks of it, the rest of the group had been here for a while. God, you really did owe Mario.
“Ah, chica!” you hear Marios best as he makes his way towards you, “you left me! These girls, they are loco!” you laugh as you see the sweat beading across his brow and his face still red, “the walk and walk and walk, they walk so quick!”
Jana now makes her way over, taking Alexias backpack from her shoulders,
“We walk quickly because Capi told us whoever won she would give first dibs on shower privileges all seaso….” Jana is silenced by Alexia, who shoves her hand over her mouth. “Ay, Jana, she’s an iditoto, doesn’t know what she's talking about, Si. Vamos, Jana. You can help me set my tent up.”
Jana is practically dragged away as you focus your attention again on Mario.
“lo siento mi amigo,” you tell him, “I didn’t mean to.. I think I just got carried away…” you eyes follow the tall blonde as she makes her way across camp, Jana having abandoned her on route.
“Da nada my friend. I have not seen you like this before…” he smiles at you. “I think she is good for you.”
“Oh stop Mario. You know me. I can’t.”
“You won’t. That is different to you can’t. And I notice you do not deny, now, vamos, help me anti-bear this place.”
Your next hour is spent helping Mario set up camp, you're close to a huge water source now, and whilst bears will only come looking for food you need to take extra steps to not spook your clients, you keep the provisions away from camp, high in trees, you sprinkle ash from the fire around and you place dry leaves and twigs around, you and Mario are light sleepers, any visitor to camp will make you up.
Alexia has been abandoned by her team. “Team building, sure… you all have fun guys, I’ll be here…” she mumbles to herself as she struggles to feed the poles of her tent through the holes in the canvas. She takes a look up and sees you, lifting logs for the fire. All short, shorts and rippling muscles. Those same damn old boots on your feet so sexily rugged.
She gets lost in her thoughts, images swimming around her mind of making you sweat for different reasons, imagining being stood above you as you drop to your knees in front of her as she gathers your hair in her hand….
“Do you need me to help you with your pole?” you ask. SNAP. Huh? Alexia looks up from the daydream she had embarrassingly got lost in. Ignoring the heat between her legs. She looks up, flustered.
“Q..Que?” she asks you, she looks down and sees the metal pole she was trying to thread through in two pieces in her hands.
“Oh… oops.” she continues. “Oh Ale… that's the centerframe pole. That's keeping the roof over your head. I can try to patch it up with some twine… but I’m not sure it will hold.” you tell her, examining the two pieces in her hands.
“Oh. Sorry. I don’t know what happened there.” Alexia tries to distract to get out of this awkward situation. “No problem, I will share it with Ingrid and Mapi. They won’t mind.”
You cast your eyes over to where Ingrid was walking into the lake in a two piece swimsuit, Mapi watching from the fire and almost setting her boot on fire as she paid no attention to her surroundings. You think they may mind.
“Okay Ale.” she knows her friends better than you, you suppose. “Now come, come look at this view.”
You lead her to the lakeside where most of the girls were settled, and you explain to the group some of the geography of how the gorge and lake was formed. And, to be fair to them, most of them did pretend to care. But you could tell they were just dying to jump in.
“Go on then Chicas! A few hours til dinner. Go have fun!”
The cheer that the group let out made you laugh, so did watching them as they scrambled over each other in the water as you and Mario made dinner. Lucy having produced a small ball from somewhere they all start to play in the water. Somehow, you felt like you were all of a sudden guiding 12 year old boys.
You could make Ale out, in the middle of the fray, contemplative nature fully unleashed as she laughed and played around with her teammates. You loved seeing her so free and open. Especially after your chat today.
You find yourself at the campfire again, plating up dinner for the group and you see an open space next to Alexia.
You make your way over but before you get there the seat is taken by Vicky, you miss the scowl that takes over Ales face as she slaps the back of her younger teammate's head.
“That space was being saved!” she sulks, watching as you change direction and settle yourself next to Lucy. Quickly being drawn into conversation. “Yeah, Lopez, that's her girlfriend's seat!” Mapi sniggers.
“Lo Siento Ale, I didn’t know.” Vicky looks so apologetic that it tugs on Alexia's heart as her gaze softens and she pulls her head into her chest in an aggressive hug, she kisses her hair. “está bien pequeña”.
After another night of singing, card games and this time smores you get the attention of the group; “Okay girls, serious now. We are in bear country.” a gasp goes through the group, “Me and Mario have made the camp safe but there's always a chance a bear may wander into camp. I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m saying this to keep you safe.” you point down to your calf, where a slither of scar tissue can be seen,
“I’ve been on the wrong side of a hungry brown bear before. They are good creatures, just hungry. They hate humans. If, and this is a big if a bear wanders into camp you need to just make noise. That will be enough to scare it away and bring mine and Marios attention to you. Si?”
The group is quiet for a moment until Ingrid lets out an affirmative noise.
You think your little bear chat scared them because quickly it's just you, Mario and Alexia who remain awake, as Mario tells stories of his family and the mischief his children get up to. He lets out a big yawn.
“Mario, you can get to bed. I will sort this” you point down to the dying embers of the fire. “I owe you after today.” “You do” he smiles as he stands up and makes his way across camp to his hammock.
“I will go to bed also.” Alexia stands, and you offer to walk her to Mapi and Ingrids tent with your headlamp so she doesn't trip on any ropes.
That smile again. She nods and as you move closer to the tent you hear a noise. You put your hand on her arm to stop her, and cock your head to one side, that won’t be a bear, surely?
There! That noise again. Louder this time. Wait. A… groan?
“Oh my god.” Alexia whispers, a laugh in her voice. You're confused and then you hear it again, this time, it sounds suspiciously like a groan of a name. Maria. Oh. Oh for god's sake.
“Maybe they took the ‘make noise’ instruction too seriously, si?” Alexia giggles into your ear. This makes you bark out a laugh, quickly hidden behind her hand that raises itself to your mouth.
“Qué fue eso” you hear from the tent. For some reason, this fills both you and Alexia with childish excitement and glee. As you pull her hand with you as you sprint away from the tent as though you are 9 in a school yard and have just been told someone has cooties.
You guide her to your hammock, and stand there, giggles subsiding, suddenly unsure of what to do.
“Maybe they forgot you were in with them tonight?” you ask the blonde, who shrugs and replies “with those two I don’t think much can stop them.” this makes you laugh lightly and then a beat of silence.
“Erm, you can take my hammock, sorry, some people don't find it comfortable but it keeps the mosquitos away and I can set up a roll matt by the fire.”
“No.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make yo…”
“No, I mean. I am not kicking you out of your bed. I will go on the matt… “
“No Ale. With your blood you’ll be eaten alive without a net… maybe..”
“Si?”
“Maybe we can share? The hammock is huge and it's normal for people to share in survival situations, you know, to keep warm and stuff.”
“Creo que tener calor será el problema.” “Pardon?” “Ah, nothing, I just said yes we should share.”
This keeps happening, and you think it's hilarious, and you let out a coy smile, “roomies?” you ask, Alexia matches your smile as she nods.
You let her get settled into the hammock in her sleeping bag before you pull it wider, there being plenty of material to hold you both comfortably. You forgot, the design of the hammock encapsulates you both, the canvas bowing upwards forcing you both into the middle, and creating a shield around you, mosquito net a curtain around you.
Suddenly, all your senses are full of Alexia. Alexia beneath you and stars above you. God. Have you died and gone to heaven? No. In heaven you wouldn't be separated by 2 layers of polyester sleeping bags.
You shuffle around to try to take some of your weight off her and lie by her side. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a type of embarrassment you never do when usually sharing this space, probably with another explorer, usually in some death defying situation.
You don’t know how this perfectly safe encounter makes you more nervous than those. In those situations, you don’t have time to be embarrassed by how heavy your weight is on the other person, how it's been 2 days since your last shower…. How your breath must smell.
“Estas bien” she lets out, softly, and those two words calm you more than a half a bar of phone signal after days of trekking in the Atlas Mountains ever could. One of her arms envelopes your shoulder and your head settles onto her chest. “Lo siento my arm is in the way…”
“Estas bien.” you reply, softly.
Alexia has never been more comfortable in her entire life. The warmth of your body weighs on hers, the smell of you infiltrating her senses, the stars above and the gentle sway of the hammock.
Sleep is already dragging her as you whisper, “buenas noches que duermas bien ale”.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexia wakes to the feeling of movement on her chest. Before she opens her eyes she takes stock of her body. Her arms now fully wrapped around you. Hands tangled in your hair. You burrowed into her chest. She is warm.
She is happy.
She knows you're awake. But there's no springing apart in embarrassment. God no. She's not ashamed. She wants this moment to last forever.
But it can’t.
You groan in her arms as you both hear Mario clanking pans to start breakfast. You pop your head up like a meerkat to take note of the surroundings. It's early. Dew still in the grass and an early morning fog over the lake. The light is dim, the sun not yet as awake as the occupants of your hammock.
“Morning Ale” you croak, morning voice in full effect. You finally turn to her and your breath is nearly taken away by her beauty. Her face is open, hair bedridden and eyes bleary from sleep but smile tugging on her lips as she looks at you with that look.
“Cómo estás aún más hermosa por la mañana?” she asks, in a whisper trying not to break the silence of the morning, it just comes out of her mouth without thinking, and she can’t stop it.
You freeze in her arms, and for a moment she tenses.
“...pardon?” you ask. Ale covers herself, “Ah lo siento, I asked. Did you sleep well?” you hum in acknowledgement and she isn’t sure what to make of the look that you sent her way.
“Yes, very well thank you. At least you’re softer than the floor.” you joke, eyebrow arched.
“I am not soft!” she replies, affronted, “I am all muscle actually!” She sits up and begins to tense her biceps jokingly. This is the Ale that frightens you the most. Frightens you how deep your feelings will run. All jokes and soft edges and smiles. You need a moment.
“Alright alright superwoman. Go put the kettle on, will you? I’m going to jump in the lake to wash off before your girls wake up.” and with that you lean out of the hammock and pull your shirt off as you go, leaving you in a sports bra and Alexia with her mouth hanging open.
Which is why, not 6 minutes later, Ona is awoken to the sound of her tent unzipping.
“Lucia” she hears whisper-yelling, into the entrance of the tent. She freezes, sleep-addled mind confused… is that… Alexia?
“Lucia!” more urgent this time. Ona rolls away from her girlfriend and sees Alexia's head popped through the tent. Looking around urgently.
“What do you want, Ale?” Ona groans. Her girlfriend is dead to the world, an atomic bomb wouldn’t wake her up.
“I need Lucia!”
“What for. What has happened… it must be… 6am?” Ona grabs for her watch, confirming her suspicions.
“Si, pero eso no importa, I need Lucia to translate for me.”
“You speak better English than she does Spanish.” One is very very confused. “What needs translating?”
“I do not need English, I need British.” Ah. This is making sense now, The whole team had seen how love sick their capi had been over the mountain boss. It was unnerving for them, but all of them wish nothing but happiness for their well respected leader, still, it’s always fun to tease.
“Ah, mi Capi. This has something to do with the jefe de montana, si?” a teasing smile enters her face, “por favor, tell me, what's happened?”
Alexia looks frustrated, looking at something outside of the tent, but seems to accept her fate as she lets herself fall into the tent, practically on top of Ona, whilst holding a… kettle?
“She asked me to put the kettle on. But Ona, I don’t know what I’m putting it on! Is it a special kettle? it doesn't do anything, look!” and with that the young defender gets a metal kettle thrust into her face as though it's a rubix cube that she has 30 seconds to solve
Her captain looks at her so urgently it would be sad if it wasn’t so hilarious. Ona can’t help herself as she bursts out laughing. All this does is further aggravate her captain.
“Oh, olvídalo, idiota, voy a despertar a Kiera.”
“No, No, No, lo siento mi Capi. You forget, I lived in England for years. She means for you to go boil the kettle. For hot drinks.”
Alexia looks at her dumbfounded, “then why didn’t she just say that!”
“I know” Ona looks at her with faux sympathy, as she passes the kettle back to her she looks so determined to complete the little task she's been set that offers her a lifeline.
“Capi, wait.” Alexia turns to look at her expectantly, “I have… experience? With the English.” her eyes dart to the lump that is Lucy sleeping beside her. Well Alexia can’t argue that.
“Make her a Tea. Just trust me.” Ona continues, sagely, as though she had just passed on the wisdom of the universe.
Alexia looks at her, about to question until…
“Tea? Someone's making tea?” Lucy grumbles, rolling over into Ona, seemingly awoken from her deep slumber like a dog who's just heard someone mention a walk.
Alexia doesn’t have time to open her mouth when she hears from the next tent over where she saw Keira set up last night, a thick english accent,
“Ey wait, Is someone brewing up?”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s half an hour later and, with intervention from Lucy when Alexia tried to rip open a tea bag into your cup, that you have a warm enamel mug shoved into your hands. Alexia looked at you as though she had just handed you a pot of gold, all shining eyes and happy smile.
You feel much fresher after your early morning dip, trail shorts and vest back on and in two loose plaits that fall down over your shoulders. You look at the mug curiously, before you take a heavenly sniff of the liquid inside.
You thank the blonde, bashfully, and can’t help but place a grateful kiss on her cheek as you move past her. You pretend that your lips aren’t on fire from the contact. For her sake you also pretend that you didn’t see her stumble over a non-existent log at your action.
What you do miss though, is Ona sending her a wink, and the smug ‘i-told-you-so.” look at her face as she leans against her own girlfriend, who is happily drinking from her own mug.
You finish helping Mario make sure that all the girls are fed for the day before you stand in the middle of them and clap to gain their attention.
“Alright ladies! I hope you all slept well,- ” a mumble of affirmation goes through the group,
“I think Ingrid did not sleep so well.” Pina shouts across the group, “Si,” Parti joins in, “Did you see a bear Ingrid? Just I heard you screa-”
A rock is then thrown at Patris head, “ouch!” and you turn to see was directed by Mapi, Ingrid's face in a deep blush. The girls all burst into laughter.
God you were going to miss this group.
“Ok, Ok, Ladies calm it down. So, we have a choice today. Last full day on the hike… if you want it to be.” a curious mumble goes through the group. “Si, so, when we plotted this route someone…” you eye your partner “failed to mention that you are all literal athletes, so, we’re actually ahead of schedule, I’ve spoken to the bus company and if you want to then we can actually make it to the rendezvous spot today. It gives you a day back in Barcelona to yourselves before you start back at your traini….”
“No!” you’re interrupted as the group turns to Alexia who looks as though you’ve just asked her to never kick a ball again.
She takes a moment and realises that she's on her feet in front of the group, half of which are looking at her as though she's lost her mind, and the other half are looking at her with wry grins like they know exactly what's going on.
“I mean, we should not. We need to bond. As a team. Si?” she asks the group “That is why we are here, and we should do that. Yes.” She looks at her teammates determinedly, nodding, as though daring anyone to question her.
“But, Ale, you said that you hate–”, you see why Alexia is the best football player on the planet as you witness the speed in which she moves over to Jana and covers her entire face with her hand, stopping her words.
“No Jana, shhh pequeño. You look unwell. Are you feeling okay?” All Jana can do is nod under her giant hand as Mapi sniggers behind hers.
Okay, maybe you wouldn’t miss this group too much. They can be a bit weird. But you pretend that you don’t put more enthusiasm into your next sentence.
“Or, we can take the long way round to the rendezvous point, we’ll get some great views of the lake from that ridge over there” you point upwards and 23 eyes follow your movement, “set up camp for one more night, me and Mario can set up a Bonfire for our last night, yes?” he nods, “and then back to the bus in the morning if we would prefer?”
“Si, That we would prefer!” Alexia answers for the whole group, though the enthusiastic nods behind her assure you that they agree with her.
“Okay then, let's pack up campers, we'll have some elevation gains today!” you smile, clapping your hands together and a groan settles through the group as you move to pack up the breakfast items you hear Mapi and Alexia talking,
“Todos estamos haciendo esto por ti y por tu capitán de vida amorosa, recuérdalo el día del entrenamiento en circuito.”
Alexia responds in a tone you haven't heard from her before, “Lo sé, gracias Mapi. Simplemente no estoy listo para decir adiós todavía, ella es especial” she looks direct at you as she responds, no attempt to hide her spanish words, and the intensity of her gaze makes you look away.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All you wanted to do was a repeat of yesterday, hang at the back of the group and walk with Alexia. Maybe let your hand brush against hers a few times more than necessary and learn all about her life in Barca.
But, you were the best guide on this side of Europe for a reason. And you think Mario would push you off the mountain if you left him to do it again, even if he tells you he wouldn’t, you still felt bad about yesterday.
So today, you found yourself at the front of the group. Weirdly, Alexia by your side with a few of the older girls, as well as Jana and Vicky who were hanging off Alexia's every word. It was cute, watching her with them.
Whatever fatigue she was suffering from yesterday which slowed her down so much seemed to have lifted, as her strong legs carried her with the rest of the group upwards. The elevation not bothering any of the women.
You were just hanging back with Mapi and Ingrid for a moment. Mapis backpack was bothering her, probably on account of her trying to carry all of Ingrids kit, you were teasing her as you helped to re-adjust the weight as Mapi was grumbling about how she definitely was strong enough to carry two sleeping bags, a tent as well as two sets of clothing whilst Ingrid was literally carrying a pillow, when the hair on the back of your neck stood up.
Something didn’t feel right, you looked up and could still see the front of the group, Alexia and Vicky chatting, going off Aleixas hand movements there was some deep football discussion going on.
You take stock of everything around you. In order to be in your line of work you needed to be aware of all of your senses, if one failed, another would pick it up, a smell in the air brought your attention and you turned to see droppings just off the trail. A large amount of droppings, and, oh no, green. You turned again and saw a tree bark torn up further away from the trail.
Fuck.
Bear droppings are green and quickly turn black as they oxidise, bears tear up trees and rocks as they pass through an area. These droppings were fresh, very fresh.
That, tied with your fantastic intuition, made you nervous.
The group had continued onward as you took stock and Alexia and Vicky had turned a corner just up the trail. You quickly help Mapi back into her backpack and move through the group quickly, making your way to the front.
“Detener!” you shout, wanting Alexia and Vicky in your sights. You turn the corner and your shout has caught their attention as they are both frozen, looking at you expectantly.
What they fail to notice, however, is a bear on the trail in front of them, not 20 metres away.
It’s a young bear, that you can tell, which is good because of its size, but the worst possible situation because young bears, like humans, are stupid.
They are curious, they don’t see you as a threat, but if there is a bear this young here, there will be a mother bear somewhere around which you definitely do not want to be on the wrong side of.
You need to separate your group from this bear as quickly as possible. But without freaking them out.
“Alexia, walk towards me.” you instruct, seriously, arm out reaching towards the two girls, whilst you hold your other arm out behind you. Stopping the rest of the group before they can move forwards.
“What’s the matte— oh meirda…” Alexia has turned and seen what's on the path in front of her. Her back immediately straightens and grabs Vicky to pull her behind her. You hate the quick movement that they make as you inwardly cringe at their actions.
“Alexia, stay calm.” you slowly move towards them, “do not make any quick movements.” you don’t receive any sort of affirmation as both girls seem to be frozen in place.
“No te muevas rápidamente, no corras. Caminar hacia atrás lentamente” your use of spanish seems to get through the fear as you see Alexias feet start to scramble backwards, pushing Vicky behind her, who remains shielded behind her back.
You move forwards, slowly, arms still raised and as soon as in touching distance, pull Alexia behind your back. You can’t see her face as you refuse to move your eyes from the threat in front of you, but you can feel the terror running through her body.
Meanwhile, the bear is having a great old time, sniffing around and pawing at the ground. He’s stopped on the trail and is looking at you, curiously, as he starts to move towards you, you hear a yelp of terror from one of the girls behind you.
Usually, you know, to make yourself big and back up as slowly as possible, but you’re in a group of 23 novice hikers, and you knew you had to get this threat away as quickly as possible.
So instead, you make yourself big, you raise your arms in the air and start to move forward. You feel a tug on the back of your shirt and a frightened whimper from the tall blonde who seems to have grasped onto your shirt.
You take a big stride forwards as you move a hand back to untangle Alexia's grasp from your shirt.
“OYE, OSO. LO SIENTO AMIGO, TINES QUE MOVERTE!” you continue to move forward and wave your hands around. The bear cocks his head at you, curiously, you’re still moving closer and an alarm is going off in your mind, he’s gotta start moving or you’re going to be too close for comfort…
“SEGUIR. IRSE” you clap your hands together sharply, and that seems to frighten the curiosity from the young bear, who quickly scurries off the path and deep into the bush on your right hand side.
The silence of the moment is suffocating. You take a moment and breathe some deep breaths. Filling your lungs and slowly releasing it. Once you feel your heartbeat settle down you turn on your heel and open your eyes to face the group behind you.
There, you are faced with 23 shell shocked faces. Mouths comically dropped as they all stare at you in awe.
The silence is interrupted as Mario catches up to the group, singing under his breath, you see his head pop up from the back of the group and an innocent smile on his face, “Hey chicas? What did I miss?”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“...And then El jefe de la montaña practically tackled this enormous bear that was virtually salivating at the thought of eating Ales pert butt as a light snack!”
Mapi dramatically, and incorrectly recites her version of events for what feels like the 5th time for the rest of the group who were hanging back with Mario during the excitement of the day.
The whole group sat together at the bonfire that you and Mario had erected, you’d gone the whole hog and dragged logs over to create a circle around the fire. You’d cracked out the marshmallows you’d been hiding deep in your backpack and you and the girls had had an evening of jokes, stories and, after Matio whipped his ukulele out again, songs.
You’re sitting with Ingrid and you miss the warmth at your side that had been present over the last two days. Alexia is sat with Vicky, and, whilst she’s been nothing but pleasant to you since the incident this afternoon, you feel like a barrier has come up between you.
You try to not overthink the situation, who are you anyway? She's Alexia Putellas, and, over the last 3 days you've learnt that that's a big deal. Of course she isn’t interested in you. God. You need to be a professional. You try to stay in the moment and stop your mind from running away. You feel the heat from the fire on your face as you close your eyes.
“... and how did you learn to do that?” you hear, and as Ingrid nudges your side, you realise Mapis question was aimed at you.
You open your eyes and see the attention of the group on you. There may be an entire football team's eyes on you but you can’t help but zone in on a certain set of hazel eyes which bore directly into your soul.
“I told you, I’ve been on the wrong end of a bear in my time.” you try to joke, pointing at the scar again running down your leg, and you get a few chuckles, but you note, Alexia's face remains stoic, and her frown deepens at your words.
“What happened?” Vicky asks, next to her. She receives a light slap to the head from her captain, “Aye, don’t be rude pequeño.”
“I don’t mind Ale.” you say, heart warming at Alexias protectiveness, “well, little football superstar” you address Vicky, “I was on a 6 month trek through the Andeas, we wanted to see if we could find any further remains from the Incas. We did by the way. Anyway, I was young, and stupid and we hadn’t stored our food safely, which, you’ll note, me and Mario have done today.” you reach across and give your partner a fist bump, “a mother bear wandered into our camp whilst I was alone. I was an idiot and got between her and an open packet of cheetos.”
“Cheetos!” Vicky asks, incredulously.
“Yes! Turns out they love those cheesy snacks” you wink at her, “she attacked and luckily, my camp leader was just coming back and managed to deploy his bear spray just as she managed to take a good swipe at my calf. I was lucky. But it wasn’t her fault. I was in her land and didn’t protect myself properly.”
Vicky waxes lyrical about your story for a while, asking you a million and one questions. The conversation across the campfire moves onto the upcoming season for the team as you and Mario start to set camp up for the night around them.
“Hey, Al, Me and Ing are heading to bed, I promise we’ll behave tonight, but I can’t promise I won’t cuddle you.” you hear Mapi address to Alexia,
“Great, look forward to it” Alexia replied sarcastically. Mapis retreat to bed seems to have set off a chain reaction amongst the team who all start to say their goodnights.
You can’t pretend that you aren’t upset that you won’t have a repeat of last night in your hammock. The sadness swirls in your stomach, but you remind yourself that the whole thing seemed to be a fantasy you’d made up in your mind.
You look up to the sky and with your head torch can see that it seems to have darkened somewhat. You move away from camp and string a rope above your hammock, you throw over a tarpaulin which covers your hammock and protects you from any rain.
As you move back to the fire you decide you’ll wait it out instead of throwing water on to drown the fire. You have some excess energy from the excitement of the day and you know you’ll just lie awake in your hammock anyway. As Mario squeezes your shoulder in goodnight you notice that Alexia seems to be hanging around the edge of the circle.
“Night Ale.” you say, kindly. It’s not her fault you have a massive unrequited crush on her.
You don’t know her well but she seems…nervous? Hands playing with themselves and feet unable to stay still.
“Nig… actually… Can we talk?” she asks, chin turning upwards and vulnerability showing on her face.
You nod and you are surprised when she sits next to you and asks, “why do you still do it?”
You look at her, curiously, she is so beautiful. Sharp angles of her face illuminated by the dying embers, perfect lips, the arch of her nose. She takes your breath away. You have a question in your eyes.
“This. As a job. You got hurt…” her hand moves, and god it's only been a few hours but you feel like you’ve been touch starved for years, as she lightly traces the scar on your calf. Leaving behind a wake of goosebumps. “You’re so brave…”
Maybe it's her touch that makes gives you the confidence but you dont think before you reply,
“I could ask you the same thing.” She has a question in her eyes now, so you repeat her action, hand moving to touch her knee where you can see the surgery scars that pull tight against her skin.
You feel her take in a breath and you think you may have overstepped until she takes your hand in her large one, keeping your hand resting on her knee.
You look into the fire as you continue; “I love my job. I can’t imagine my life without it. It gives me air in my lungs. It's my reason to live. And yeah. I got hurt. I've been hurt before and I’ll be hurt again.” Alexia squeezes your hand at that, “but that's why we do what we love, isn’t it? You’re so brave every time you step out onto a pitch again” you direct your question to her, “we learn from our mistakes, come back stronger from our injuries, not just in our skills but as people? No?”
There's that look again, those open eyes, that expression you can’t place.
“Football is the same for you Ale. I can tell. When you talk about it. Think of that feeling you get. That's why I carry on. I love it, and it wasn’t that bears fault I got hurt, It was mine. Just as it wasn’t the rocks fault as I slipped 200 feet down Mt Kilimanjaro. They’re all lessons on how to adapt, on how to come back stronger.”
She nods, a look of understanding in her eyes and turns her gaze towards the fire. But doesn’t let go of your hand.
You don't know what Alexia is thinking. You don't know that she feels like every word out of your mouth feels like you've plucked it straight from her heart. You're deep. She feels like finally someone gets her.
“You spoke Spanish today.” she lets out into the silence.
Ah, you think, she hadn’t missed it like you thought that she may have done in the heat of the moment. And, as usual, you try to break the tension with a joke.
“He was a Spanish bear. I wanted him to understand me.”
Alexia doesn't laugh but instead turns to you again, “I feel stupid.”
There's that vulnerability again.
“No. Never feel stupid Alexia, you are the most intelligent person I have ever met.” you reply, instantly, and turn your body to hers,
“You didn’t tell me that you spoke spanish… everything I have said…”
“I meant to! Honestly I did, I mean I told you I lived in Peru for two years.” she raises her eyebrow at you… “Ale they speak Spanish in Peru.” “Oh.”
Her eyes drop down to the floor and you can’t physically allow that look of sadness to sit on her face for a moment longer.
“I think you’re more beautiful in the mornings too.” you whisper, the only noise around you the crackling of the drying embers around you.
Alexia looks up at this, eyes somewhat, hopeful? And it's that look that gives you the belief that maybe maybe she feels the same way?
“Si? Even though you made me smell like garlic?” she asks, before the syllable is even out of her mouth you reply. “Si, tan hermoso. Aunque tal vez sea más hermoso ahora con la luz del fuego.”
You stood in front of a bear today.
But the scariest moment of your day is as you move your head towards hers, slowly, more frightened of this rejection than any wild animal.
You look deeply into her eyes and the permission you seek is gained there, she gives you a small nod as she closes the distance between you both. Her lips finally meet yours in a gentle and sweet kiss.
It's like fireworks have gone off in your stomach.
Your mouth tingles where it presses against hers, your lips softly encase her lower lip and you hear her squeak of satisfaction which is the cutest fucking thing you have ever heard in your life.
You kiss as though you have all the time in the world. It is gentle and slow. Until it is not. And then you kiss like a pair of horny teenagers as it deepens and you groan into her mouth as her tongue seeks permission in yours.
You would have continued all night had mother nature not intervened.
You’re good with your senses and you hear the fizz of the fire going out before you feel the drops of rain on your skin. You pause your movements and look deep into Alexia's eyes.
“Y hueles deliciosa” you whisper, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle as you make her laugh.
“Will you sleep with me?” you ask, her eyes widen in panic at your question and it takes your lust-addled brain a moment to catch up, “wait. No! No Lo siento, no soy un asqueroso! I mean. Will you stay with me tonight in my hammock? No funny business, I promise!”.
Your hands move off the taller girls hips where they seem to have found themselves as she settled onto your lap, and you hold them high in surrender.
Alexia saw you face a bear today.
And the look on your face now is more panicked than it was then.
She smiles at you, god she has it bad she thinks.
“Si, I will, and… maybe some funny business?”
You’re lucky that your bark of laughter doesn’t wake up any of your campmates.
Content that the rain which is now falling more heavily will take care of the fire, you rush the blonde to your hammock, lifting the tarpaulin above her head so she could duck down and she settles herself into the material like a seasoned pro.
You open up your sleeping bag and turn it into a blanket which will cover you both as she opens up her arms and you settle into them. It’s pitch black in the tent and you feel as though your other senses are working to make up for it. The rain patters against the plastic sheet above you and you enjoy the sound as you enjoy the warmth beneath you, the hammock still swaying gently.
You shuffle in the blondes hold, moving so that you can lie stomach to stomach. Your face close to hers, you exchange gentle kisses and enjoy the feeling of her hands on your back as you gently scratch against her scalp.
Your head on her chest as sleep starts to take you, still enjoying the heat of her body and the ministrations of her hands which have moved beneath your t-shirt.
“Maybe the outdoors isn’t so bad.” you hear her whisper as sleep takes hold.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Life is funny sometimes.
You think to yourself.
You think about how you got here.
Not 24 hours ago stood in Arles, a minibus packed with footballers in front of you, and, in most cases, gawking at you, faces pushed against the windows, comically, as Ingrid moved through the inside of the bus, slapping heads and pulling them back into their seats.
You’d held Alexia's hands. You’d followed her lead this morning and since you both woke up and made breakfast at the campfire, she hadn’t stopped being affectionate, seemingly, no hint of hiding her affections from her teammates.
She’d hung behind with you and helped you pack up camp, as you both spent what you thought potentially was your last morning together.
It was light, you both had laughed easily and teased each other relentlessly.
Until that moment, when reality struck. You, due to fly back home to England in a few hours, and Alexia, about to board a bus which would take her miles away from you.
You’d already scribbled your number onto a trail mix wrapper and secured it into her hand. She had promised to message as soon as she could and you had promised to keep in touch, trying to keep the tears that teased your eyes at bay as you settled your face into her warm palm.
But it hadn’t felt right.
It wasn’t fair. It was too soon. This had felt too right.
So you hadn’t been able to control yourself, as you faced her back as she boarded the bus when you asked; “Hey, Ale?” she’d turned and you knew you hadn’t misplaced that look of hope in her eyes, “Have you ever been to an 82nd birthday party?”
The grin that overtook her face could only be matched by yours.
So here you now found yourself. Standing in your nan’s garden under a gazebo as the English rain lightly drizzled, only 2 hours fashionably late for the event you actually arrived back in England for 4 days ago.
As your brother had opened the door earlier, you laughed at the shock on his face when he took Alexia in. All blonde, lean and mediterranean and very out of place in the middle of the drizzle of the English lake district.
Your whole extended family had popped up behind your brother, smiles and coy grins on their faces. Your mum broke the stunned silence at your arrival, more specifically, at the blonde by your side.
“I’ll put the kettle on.”
Alexia's face broke out into a huge grin that literally warmed your heart.
“I know how to do that!” she had replied, excitedly, her spanish accent thick.
Well, maybe not that out of place.
fin.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text



request: please I’m begging you write more parts to the Patrick Zweig Coach fucking his much younger client I’m dying that was too good
tennis coach!Patrick x fem reader, part 1
cw: nsfw (18+), d/s overtones tbh, dom!patrick, dirty talk, minimal use of daddy kink (reader says it once), not proofread
You were sore for that next week of practice. Getting fucked by a tennis racket handle wasn’t on your bucket list but you’re not particularly mad at it either.
You thought the dynamic would change between you and your coach but it’s like he went right back to ignoring you.
It wasn’t until Wednesday’s practice when you were preparing for a tournament you had this weekend.
You were genuinely out of it. You were going to be versing Anna Mueller and she’s currently ranked number 4 for women’s juniors. Sometimes you got in your head about things even if you knew how good you were.
During your serve drills Patrick could tell you were off. By the time you got to scrimmaging you weren’t giving it your all to beat him like you usually would.
On your next rally Patrick catches the ball instead of returning your serve. He walks to middle meeting you at the net, “You’re not fucking with me right? What’s going on?”
You sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the cardigan tied around your shoulders, “No I’m not I just- I keep thinking about the tournament this weekend.”
He gives you a tight lipped smile, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Anna Mueller is all show, no real skill. And she’s a racist bitch, you’ll beat her into the ground without even trying.”
You let out a chuckle at that statement, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or light a fire under my ass,” I mean who doesn’t want to beat their opponents, especially the racist ones.
He smirks, “Why can’t it be both?,” He takes a step closer, the net still in between you two. You instinctively take a step closer just to be in his personal space. He bites his lip quickly, you can tell he’s thinking. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “And I said if you were good this weekend, I’d give you what you want.”
The smell of cigarettes fills your senses. A smell you usually hate but for some reason it just works for him. You let your eyes slip close momentarily to imagine what your first time with Patrick would be like because jesus fuck—
“We don’t have all day L/N, let’s go,” He calls out from his place on the other side of the court. Shit, how long were you standing there with your eyes closed?
You half jog back to your side of the court and take your cardigan off. When did it get so hot?
You turn quickly to look at him again, only to see him quickly push his sunglasses back down and clear his throat. Oh he was totally staring.
Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Ready Zweig?” You call out right before you serve an ace.
…
The tournament had just finished and you absolutely crushed Anna Mueller. You tanked in the first set but came back and won the last two by a good margin. You were so zoned in you didn’t even notice when Patrick had moved his tennis bag to his lap to cover up his problem.
You were so hyped at the end, you felt like it was the best tennis you’ve ever played. Not to mention the points you’d win from this to boost your own rank.
You looked around the stands for Patrick but he was nowhere to be found. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion but you’re sure you’ll see him later. Your parents had covered two hotel rooms for you both for the weekend.
You made your way back to the hotel so you could take a shower and change. Once you finished there was a knock on your door.
You opened it to find Patrick leaning against the door frame with a CVS bag in his hand. You took a second to take him in. Curls damp, like he just took a shower. You were able to actually look in his eyes for longer than a millisecond (since he’s always wearing sunglasses) and they were beautiful. A mashup of light hazel and green. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans that stretched over his long legs. And he was only wearing socks? No shoes.
“You gonna let me in or you wanna keep checking me out?” He smirks. You move to the side so he can walk inside.
You close the door as he takes a seat on the bed after placing the CVS bag on the night stand.
“Where’d you go? After my match.” You ask sitting next to him so your thighs are touching.
He shifts so he can face you, “Had to get some stuff, take a shower,” He gestures to the bag on the nightstand.
“You didn’t even see if I won or not, and what did you just have to get from CVS?” You ask. To be honest you’re not even really paying attention, just enjoying being this close in his personal space. Maintaining eye contact so you can fully drink in this dreamlike experience.
“Just condoms,” He’s says so causally like it’s toothpaste or something.
You scrunch your eyebrows together, “Don’t they sell that at the little hotel store downstairs?”
He smirks again, “And how would you know that?”
Blood rushes to your cheeks, “I just wanted to check I guess. And you never answered my questions.”
He shrugs, “I already knew you were gonna win and downstairs they didn’t have magnum.” He says so casually AGAIN. Fuck.
He sees the “oh fuck” realization on your face so he has to ask, “You’re not a virgin right?”
You shake your head no. Quite the opposite actually but he just made you nervous for some reason.
He moves his hand to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb resting just above your ear, “What happened to the confident little brat who made me fuck her with a racket huh?”
Fuck. You move forward to crash your lips together, you’ve been waiting for this for too long to get nervous now.
He kisses you back and it’s almost bruising. Tongue, lips, and exchanging spit. It’s filthy. He pulls you back before he says, “On your knees.”
You followed that command quicker than the speed of your serves. He chuckles softly and you look up at him, hoping this time you’d get what you want and not a tennis racket.
He stands up so your face to face with his clothed bulge. You can feel your mouth start to water subconsciously. He unzips his jeans, pulling them down until they fall at his ankles. Now he was just stood in front of you in his boxer briefs and a much more prominent bulge.
You felt some need to prove to yourself so you start to mouth at his bulge through his underwear.
“Fuck, woah slow down. Did I say you could do that?” He groans while grabbing your hair and pulling you off.
“No but I just—“
“I thought you said you were gonna be good? You were good this whole week, don't mess it up now.”
“Okay I’m sorr—“
“First rule is you only speak if I say so okay? Or if I ask you a question. Got it?”
You nod before you realize he just asked you a question. You rush out, “Yes yep got it.”
He smiles, “You’ve always been a pretty quick learner.” He moves his hand from your hair back to his own underwear. He pulls them down slowly, letting his hard length spring free and fuck. You knew he was big but this was a lot.
He continues, “Now, I’m gonna let you suck my cock but don’t try to be too ambitious. If I want you to take more, you’ll know. And if you need me to stop for any reason just pinch me.”
You nod staying in your place on your knees. He grips the base of his cock, rubbing his tip along your lips. You want so badly to open your mouth, lick the tip with your tongue. But you can’t, not yet.
“You can open.”
Before he even finishes that statement your mouth is open and you’re sucking on the tip. Little kitten licks in between. You refrain from trying to swallow him down because you haven’t been instructed to yet.
He moves his hand back to your hair, pushing you further down. You choke a little, but try to keep calm so your gag reflex doesn’t act up.
He lets out a low groan as he keeps pushing in, “Fuck,” and then he pulls out almost all the way before he presses back in.
This time you try to suck to the best of ur ability. Making a mess, spit building up in your mouth, covering his cock, drooling out of the sides of your mouth. You still haven’t taken it all but you bob your head up and down, covering the expanse of his cock that he’s allowed you to take.
The wet sounds of you choking, gasping, and breathing hard around his dick filling the room. Soon he pulls all the way out letting out an exasperated, “Fuck babe, gotta prep you now. Get up.”
You stand up, knees feeling sore from the roughness of the hotel carpet.
“Take off your clothes and lay down on your back.” He says, stroking his cock aimlessly, waiting for you to lay down.
This is the fastest you’ve ever taken your clothes off, record speed. You get into position, laying down on your back. A few pillows behind you so your back is elevated. He lays down on his stomach between your legs, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed.
He lets his finger run down the middle of your folds, gently grazing your clit, before he pushes into your hole.
“You’re so wet already, maybe I didn’t have to prep you,” He says before adding a second finger, pumping in and out of your slick hole.
He picks up the pace and you are a moaning mess. Moaning, whining, and whimpering just from his fingers as he keeps pressing against the right spot.
“Does that feel good baby?” He asks before he inserts a third, curling his fingers inside you now.
You nod before you remember that you have to answer verbally, “Yes please more, feels so good.”
He speeds up his pace, assaulting the soft spongy spot inside of you until you feel something build up in your stomach. He keeps eye contact with you, biting his lip as he watches the pleasure take over your face.
“Ah, ah, ah—Patrick wait I- fuck” You say in a high pitched whine as a rush of liquid gushes out of you, squirting all over his fingers.
Patrick pulls his fingers out, “Knew you had it in you,” he smirks moving up on the bed to capture your lips in another kiss.
This kiss is slow, like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. He bites your lip as he pulls away from the kiss, “Good?”
You nod definitely a little out of it. “Yeah,” you reply, your volume barely above a whisper.
“Still wanna keep going?” He asks, pushing your hair back behind your ear.
You nod, biting your lip as you smile, “Duh. Didn’t get what I want yet.”
He scoffs playfully, “I could argue that you did.” He grabs the CVS bag and opens the box of condoms, taking one out. “Would you like to do the honors?”
You nod again, sitting up on your knees and opening the wrapper. He strokes himself a few times to get himself back to full hardness before you roll on the condom.
He moves you to lay down on the other (dry) side of the bed and lines up with your entrance. He drags his tip along the center of your folds, teasing your hole, “Sure this is what you really want?”
You let out a huff, “Yes Patrick, how many times do I have to tell—shit“ Your cut off as he pushes inside of you.
He looks up at you as he bottoms out, “You still good?” He grunts out.
“Stop treating me like a baby, I can take it,” You gasp out. It really is a lot. You feel ridiculously full. Almost comparable to the tennis racket. “You literally fucked me with tennis racket.”
“Ungrateful as always,” He shakes his head before he pulls out. You whine at the loss before he flips you over so your face down ass up.
“You were good all week, now you wanna be an ungrateful slut,” he tsks before slamming into you without warning.
“Oh fuck,” You basically scream out at the abrupt intrusion. He grabs both your wrists, holding them behind your back, before he really starts fucking into you.
He grunts out, “I was trying to be nice but you keep testing me, fuck you feel so good.”
He continues holding both your wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand grabs your hair. Pulling you up so he can whisper in your ear, “So you’re gonna take whatever I decide to fucking give you, got it?”
You let out a whimper from how overwhelmed with pleasure you feel, “Yes fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
He smirks, “Too late for that.” He lets go of your hair letting you fall back into position. He grips your hips and starts pounding into you. Each thrust more bruising than the last. Hard and fast. It feels like you’re gonna break.
You go from leaning into the thrusts pushing yourself back against him, to almost trying to pull away. Not because you weren’t enjoying it but because your g-spot was starting to get overstimulated, it was starting to feel too good.
“Fuck baby, can’t run away now. This is what you asked for right? What you’ve been drooling over for the past two years huh? Bet you used to touch yourself thinking about this right?”
You can’t even think straight enough to realize he’s asking a question. It’s not until he comes to a halt to say, “I asked you a fucking question.”
Now that he’s still inside you, your brain finally processes what he said. “Yes fuck, Patrick I— yes, I did, I did. Please don’t stop please,” You whine.
He picks up his pace again as tears start to fall down your face. He can hear your sniffling mixed in with your moans, “Aw baby, are you crying? Does it feel too good?”
You nod. Your face smushed against the pillow that’s catching your fallen tears. You let out a weak, “Yes daddy,” and you don’t even realize what you just said, too fucked out to register.
“Shit why would you— fuck,” His hips stutter, “Christ you’re so fucking—fuck baby you’re gonna be the end of me.”
“Please please, so close,” You whimper. You can feel yourself on the edge until-
“Cum for me baby, want you to finish all over my cock, this what you’ve wanted for two years right? Show me how much you needed it.”
And that’s all it takes. You feel that sudden rush again before you squirt all over Patrick’s dick. He curses under his breath pulling all the way out in between thrusts to fully see it. That image is enough to have him spilling inside the condom, his thrusts stilling.
He pulls out slowly, taking the condom off and throwing it away. He grabs a small hand towel from the bathroom and comes back to you on the bed half asleep.
“I figured you’d be too tired to shower but are you sure you wanna sleep here? My room’s right next to yours and my bed isn’t…yeah.”
You nod sleepily, “‘Mkay, there’s a connecting door I think?” You lazily gesture to the door in the middle of the wall.
“Oh that’s…convenient.” He pulls on his jeans haphazardly, taking out his key card. He leaves your room, leaving the deadbolt on to hold the door cracked open, and you hear some shuffling outside. You assume he’s unlocked the connecting door on his side.
He comes back to your room, unlocking the door on your side, revealing direct access to Patrick’s room. He picks you up with ease, probably from all those years of tennis, and sets you down in the middle of his bed.
It’s chillier in his room. Probably has the AC blasting, so you curl in on yourself trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again.
He makes his way over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little. Then he takes a beat before he decides to cover you with the comforter, tucking you in.
“Better?” He asks as he lays next to you, on top of the comforter because he’s still hot.
“Better,” You mumble back before you fall asleep
#mel writes✍🏾#mel’s inbox💌#challengers#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#dilf patrick#patrick x reader#patrick x you#patrick zweig x y/n#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig smut
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ominiscience
Sylus x gn!Reader
I just love when Sylus gets to protect MC from others
Warnings: unwanted advances, alcohol mention, protective Sylus, Mephisto keeping an eye on you, pet names, swearing, established relationship
Word Count: 1,009
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Wish you could’ve come with me. It’s boring here without you :(
You sigh as you send the text, leg bouncing as you thank the bartender for your drink. There’s no alcoholic sting when you take a sip, but you don’t expect there to be. You do have to drive back home, after all. Or maybe you’d risk the drive to the N109 Zone, just to see Sylus.
Tara invited you out to a bar to celebrate a mission success. And despite helping you in that success, you didn’t want to risk the leader of Onychinus being in Linkon around other Hunters. But you also didn’t want to disappoint Tara, especially when you’d been spending so much time in the N109 Zone when you aren’t working. You didn’t want her to think you didn’t enjoy her company or value her friendship.
Except, she got swept up by a cute guy five minutes after sitting down. They smiled together and laughed as they danced to the music, holding hands and swaying close like they’d known each other for years. And you were left at the bar to nurse virgin mocktails and cling to every message he sends you.
Awe, poor kitten. Shall I send Mephisto to keep you company?
You can’t help grinning.
For company, or for target practice?
“Hey, gorgeous.” You startle and turn toward the voice. A man gestures to the stool beside you with a smirk that makes your skin crawl. He looked completely normal, even a little handsome, but something about the way his eyes looked at you had your senses on high alert. “This seat taken?”
You glance down the row of seats. There are quite a few open, further away and a safe distance from you. “No, but neither are any of those.”
He laughs at your comment and sits down, leaning his elbow on the counter and barely glancing at the bartender when he orders. You shift your drink closer.
“I like a seat with a view.”
Your phone buzzes again. You start to pick it up so you can answer the new message, hoping your clear lack of interest will get this stranger to leave you alone, but another hand grabs it and slams it back onto the bar, trapping your hand with it. His grip is relentless, squeezing your fingers together uncomfortably as he leans closer. You smell the alcohol from his drink on his breath.
“It’s rude to ignore someone, sweetheart,” he chastises. “What’s the matter, you got a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
He chuckles. “I don’t believe you.”
Your phone begins ringing, vibrating against your crushed hand while it plays a silly tune, one you’d picked out just to annoy Sylus. The man snickers. “What kind of ringtone is that? Is your friend calling? She must be cute, too, huh?”
“You can answer it if you want,” you say, taking on an air of confidence. “Maybe she’ll think you sound pretty cute, too.”
He grins, eyes studying your hand beneath his as he considers the offer. Your heart is leaden in your chest. If he doesn’t answer and Sylus doesn’t threaten him into the next lifetime, you don’t know what else to do. The bartender’s back is to you as he talks with another customer, and Tara is probably too engrossed in her new admirer to notice your struggle.
“Alright,” he finally agrees. You try not to breathe a sigh of relief just yet as he releases you and you hand over the device. The idiot doesn’t even bother checking the call photo background, a stolen snapshot of Sylus with snow in his hair and fireworks lighting up his face. He just accepts and brings it right up to his ear, smiling at you confidently. “Hey, cutie.”
You bite your lip to fight a growing laugh from bubbling up as you watch in real time as his face changes through several different emotions.
At first, he’s just confused when a man’s voice answers the call. Then pissed. He’s glaring at you when he starts to hang up, but stops and listens again. The anger flickers into worry for a second. A split second. Enough time for his mind to try to rationalize that the words, the threats, coming in from the receiver aren’t real and can’t possibly happen to him. And then it settles. Color drains from his face. His eyes are wide, glancing from you to the people around him helplessly, clutching the phone with both hands. You can’t hear Sylus’s voice, but you wonder if he’s using Mephisto to relay the man’s movements.
It’s only been a couple minutes when the man slowly pulls the phone from his ear and holds it out to you, cradling it in both hands like a highly reactive bomb. He stammers until he finally whimpers out, “It’s- It’s for you. S-Sorry.”
You take the phone and he trips over himself trying to get away, frantically searching the crowd for the mysterious stranger that threatened his life seconds ago.
You hold it up to your ear. “Thank you for that.” You take a relaxed sip of your drink.
Sylus chuckles. “Did you enjoy the show?”
“Mhm.” You glance over your shoulder. “Where’s Mephisto hiding?”
“Outside. Up a little, look to your right… There you are, sweetie,” he purrs. Mephisto’s red eyes shine like rubies through the glass of a high-set window. You can’t see his body, only the movement of his eyes as he jerks his head around. “As I was saying, have you had dinner yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Good. Name anything you want. The chef will have it ready by the time you get here.”
You turn away and smile, trying to hide just how dopey it looks from him. “Do you have any work to do tonight?”
From the smile in his own voice, you’re sure he saw it anyway. “Just say the word and my schedule is cleared.”
“Which word?”
There’s an anticipatory pause. You can imagine the feel of his breath on your ear as he whispers into the microphone. “Please.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads#lads x reader#lnds#lnds x reader#gn reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader
996 notes
·
View notes
Text
four. apples rotten right to the core
masterlist.
a/n: help i made toxic clarissexreader shes like a frat bro ex
You take a bite of an apple, the juice running down your chin as you mindlessly watch some sitcom or another. Your free hand wipes at it, your brows furrowing as it sticks to your hands.There’s a few more minutes before the league arrives, and you’re wasting your time eating, or polishing your weapons. Out of the corner of your eyes, you feel Clarisse’s eyes on you.
She’s watching you carefully, eyes drawn nearly closed as she gazes at you. It brings back memories, of slow nights spent with her, where her hands would smooth over your scarred skin and pry uselessly at your locked-up heart and plead with desperate wanting, a promise that this time, she’d be better.
(“(Y/N), please, I’ll listen. You don’t have to leave, I’ll take care of it. Please,” She begs, her hands on your waist and her face on your stomach.)
You take another bite of the apple. You ignore her hungry eyes, sat primly next to Jamie. It got worse after you removed your earrings, letting your mottled cheek face the world. Your friend leans on your shoulder, eyes lidded as he stares blankly at the screen with a confused look on his face. He’s frowning when he says, “The timeline makes no sense.”
“Yeah?” You ask, eyes flicking to his frame.
He nods, sitting up, “Bro, it’s-”
A knock at the door. Your head whips over, clutching the apple tight. They’re here. Clarisse goes to the door, a leader in her heart. She opens the door, staring out of them. She holds that position for a long, awkward moment. A power play, probably. She’s always been a fan of keeping people on their toes, reminding them that she’s better.
She steps aside, letting the League, or what of the league’s been appointed to help. They file in, left to stand and stare at the demigods scattered, sitting on couches and chairs. Their eyes are drawn naturally to you, scanning your frame. Dick, Jason, and Bruce are all among the gathered heroes and the most awkward. Dick - Nightwing - is shifting skittishly, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. Red Hood just stares, hand close to his gun and his body pointed ever so slightly to the exit. Batman just stands there, perfectly still. The cape cloaks any movement he could be making right now, leaving you to just stare.
Your father flinches back near imperceptively, eyes widening as he sees you. You meet his gaze, staring up at him through your eyelashes.
Look at me, you think. Look at me and see what you made, what I’ve become.
He looks at you, until a body steps in front and keeps you from his eyes. Clarisse. She stares out at them, a hand on her spear, Maimer, as she frowns, “In half an hour, we’re heading out to put seals up. I’ll have (Y/N)’s group on the borders. You’ll be traveling down the edge of Gotham. There are six sealing zones, each one randomized when you arrive at the prior zone. Understand?”
You nod, Will and Jamie doing the same. The heroes assigned to you, Nightwing, Superman, and Impulse, nod as well. She runs down the list of assignments, herself being sent to the heart of Gotham. They’ll activate a spell that replicates the soul and signals of an injured powerful demigod. It’ll lure the stronger - and thankfully dumber ones - out from the shadows. The ones that remain are left to the Sealers and Travis’ group, who are to travel throughout Gotham on patrol.
“At the end of her spiel, she turns to you. A tender look overtakes her eyes, a quiet devotion before she turns back to the league. With a sigh, she says, “Let’s get a move on. The hope is that we’ll be through at about five. If you start on the outside, you’ll work your way in. We know we won’t get all of them, but we at least need to get most of them.”
She turns to the demigods, making eye contact with each of them, “Do you understand?”
Travis laughs, a softly bitter thing, “Yes ma’am.”
“Watch it, Stoll,” Clarisse frowns at him.
He raises his hands in surrender, standing up, “What, only want that from (L/N)-”
Her hand shoots out, clutching at his shirt collar. Jamie laughs, shocked, his eyes wide as he glances from the daughter of Ares to the son of Hermes. You frown, a scowl on your face as you watch their stand off. You don’t notice the way Bruce’s eyes narrow, trained on Clarisse as if studying her weaknesses, trying to learn her inadequacies. Or the way Dick stills, a body of shifting limbs and straining muscles suddenly slowly to a stop. Or the way Jason shifts, his body leaning forward and his legs shifted wider as if to attack.
You’ve never needed to notice it before, because you always knew it wouldn’t be there. You didn’t have any need to expect it now. You could survive without their protection. You can survive without their attention.
You throw your half-eaten apple at Travis and Clarisse, Jamie booing them, saying, “Uninspired! Basic! Giving Twilight ass love triangle!”
You turn to him, eyes wide, “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me.”
“It’s true!” He insists, sitting up to stare at you, “You’re Bella, Clarisse is Edward - not good for you but tragically the hotter of the two-”
“Hey!”
“Shut up, Travis! And Travis is the poor second choice!”
“Travis is dating Katie.”
“Oh. Forgot about that, lowkey.”
You sigh, standing up and grabbing your now-dirty apple from the ground and tossing it in the trash. You turn to Clarisse and Travis, raising your wrist and pressing the bracelet, blankly watching as it turns into a sword.
You point it at them, saying, “We have better things to do than your stupid ass posturing. Besides, I’m not taking you back.”
Dick squawks, “Take her back? (Y/N), you’re too young to be dating!”
He grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he grips your shoulders desperately, “You can’t be dating! (Y/N)-”
You stare at him, a mild look of disgust on your face as you gently remove his hands from your shoulder, “Let’s… not.”
He stays still, watching as you turn around and face your friends, “Let’s just get started. I don’t want to spend hours doing this, I have a life.”
Clarisse sighs. She looks at you, a frown on her face. She steps closer to you, so close you have to crane your neck to see her face. She’s always been taller than you, with broad shoulders and lean muscles. She smiles mockingly at you, leaning down until you’re almost nose to nose.
“You’re not in charge, (Y/N). We’re waiting for Chiron’s word.”
You smile back at her, a scornful look in your eyes. For just a moment, pink flits across your eyes, (e/c) shifting, “If I say we go, then you’ll find yourself listening.”
She glares, opening her mouth to say something she’ll surely regret, that will lead to her drunkenly IMing you sobbing when Will stands up and gets between you.
“Chiron messaged! We’re going, we need to go and you two need to get away from eachother! This is their first impression of us!” He says quickly, latching onto your wrist with one hand, and his free one gesturing to the league.
You sigh, “Sorry about that.”
Diana interjects before anyone else can, “It’s alright, (Y/N). Lets go.”
You make eye contact with your father, awkwardly holding it as he stares at you blankly. |Everyone begins to file out, and just before you follow him, he clasps your shoulder. He says, “(Y/N). I’m sure your… situation has left you far more independent than you need to be, you’re still far too young to date.”
You look at him with wide eyes, mouth open incredulously. He must see the look on your face, and recognize it, as he clears his throat and says, “Nonetheless, I am… proud of you.”
He turns and leaves, leaving you to just stand there. How dare he? Nine damn years of relying on yourself, and now he dares to come in and say ‘how dare you date’? What the fuck! You scowl, scoffing as you turn and follow him down out of the apartment.
Piece of shit.
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
Superman’s driving the truck. Will’s next to him, fiddling with the GPS, as you, Jamie, Impulse, and Nightwing are piled in the trunk bed. You’re sat across from Jamie, Nighting close enough to brush shoulders as he tries to lure you into conversation with meaningless jokes and small, vague memories of your past. You know just as well as he does that these memories were the only ones you share.
“...You were so small!” He says, nudges you with a small smile.
You smile awkwardly at him, fiddling with your bracelet. His eyes keep being drawn to your scar, which he stares at for a few seconds before remembering himself and looking away, “Yep. That’s what happens when you spend nine years in near-poverty.”
He quiets down, staring at you for a second. You give him a tight-lipped smile, like the one you’ve seen Chiron give to some of the more uptight parents from camp. You hope to emulate him.
Jamie snickers, disguising it as a cough into his shoulder. Dick shoots him a glare, before turning back to you like a puppy.
Just as he opens his mouth, Will sticks his head out the window, “We’ve got the first one! Down by the Bay! Let’s get in, and get out.”
You nod, turning your bracelet into a sword. You stand up, using the roof of the truck to steady yourself as you look out. You park roughly, and you jump out quickly, running to the site. Will comes up beside you, passing you a small dagger. With a deep breath, you slice your palm.
Dick gasps, hand flying out before he stops, looking as though it was painful. You drip your blood in a circle around you, squeezing tightly to urge more blood out. Eventually, you form a simple design around you, and you carefully step out of it.
You shake your hand and turn to Jamie, “Light it up.”
He carefully hops between lines of blood, standing in the middle. He clasps his hands in prayer, mumbling ancient Greek beneath his breath. As he finishes the line, the blood begins to glow brightly before settling into a shimmery red.
You sigh, turning to Jamie, “You’re bleeding for the next one.” He laughs, nodding as you pile back into the car. Will checks the GPS, putting the new location in. You brace yourself, ready for whatever comes next.
#demigod!reader#platonic yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere dc#dovechild#dividers by fairytopea#clarisse x reader#clarisse la rue#yandere pjo#yandere clarisse
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
Agora Hills | Eren x Chubby!Reader
Ahhh! It’s part 2 to The Weekend! I didn’t expect y’all to like the first part as much so I’m hoping this lives up to y’all’s expectations😂
Warnings: Mean!Eren (but really only to Mikasa and Historia) Pick Me!Mikasa and Historia (they will be dealt with) smut(cunnilingus, P in V, mentions of fingering, panty sniffing)
She felt like she was going to be sick.
How could he?
How could you?
She cried in your arms, she poured her heart out to both of you and this is what you do?
No.
It had to be you.
You must have tempted him, this was just some elaborate revenge for her talking to that one guy at Connie’s party a while back.
Because no way her Eren would be caught dead with you.
— —
Mikasa’s knees were ready to give way.
All throughout the day, you and Eren had been carefully avoiding her but it was time for your daily meetup at lunch with the rest of the group, so she’ll give you an opportunity to explain yourselves and if she’s willing, she’s open to forgiveness.
Oh how she wishes she’d have just skipped lunch.
She was seated next to Historia in the cafe, along with Armin, Jean and Connie awaiting the arrival of you both. She needed Historia for moral support, having told her of your treachery. Historia wasn’t nearly as upset as Mikasa had expected, but she chalked it up to shock because honestly, she was shocked too.
As soon as the doors to the cafeteria open, everyone’s head turns, the sight of Eren holding the door open for you coming into view.
He walks in after you, eyes raking over your figure as if he didn’t help you pick out your outfit for the day.
It was a simple halter top and mini skirt combo paired with some short, heeled sandals, but that wasn’t what brought the smirk to his lips.
No, it was the pretty gold anklet with his initials and the gorgeous emerald necklace that he’d paired with it that brought the smile to his face.
You looked so pretty with his claim on you.
You both saunter up to your friends, hand in hand, before Eren pulls out your seat for you, taking the one beside you for himself before you both engage in conversation with the guys.
“So, does no one see a problem?” Historia asks incredulously. Has she entered the fucking twilight zone?
Armin shrugs, doing a onceover of the table, “I don’t think so. Everyone’s here right?” He asks, getting a brief nod from everyone.
Not that you and Eren were paying attention. You both were too busy giggling amongst yourselves.
“Eren?” Mikasa squeaks out. She couldn’t believe that after all this time, he’d just throw her away. And for you of all people?
Oh no.
She’s worked too hard, put up with too much to just let him go.
He begrudgingly looks away from you, his mood immediately dampening as he addresses her. “Yeah?” He sighs.
She ignores his disposition, wanting to know just what the fuck you two had going on. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” She grits out through clenched teeth. Eren rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to you, playing with the emerald pendant, “Nah, why? What happened?”
Mikasa blushes as everyone turns their gazes towards her, the tension palpable. “What happened? What happened, Eren, is you parading her around like she’s your girlfriend when we-” “When we what, exactly? Look Mikasa, you’re a nice girl but (Y/N)’s different. She makes me feel some type of way whenever I’m with her. We just click in a way that you and I never could.” He cuts her off.
Her heart breaks, tears threatening to fall when she casts a glance at her friends, but the way they avert their eyes has her stomach dropping further. “You guys knew?” She barely manages to get out.
Connie and Jean mumble affirmations, but Armin stutters out a reply, “But not for that long, Mikasa!” He squeaks out, however, Historia’s had enough, “That’s enough! Eren, you’re being cruel. You can’t possibly want her over me-Mikasa!” She exclaims. Eren snarls, his temper spiking. “I’m getting real tired of you guys talking about my girl like that, so I’m only going to say this once,” He grits out. “Being cruel is pretending to be Mikasa’s friend when you’ve been begging me to fuck you behind her back. Being cruel is telling me that Mikasa’s a pathetic bitch and that I can do better than her. And you know what? You’re right! And you’re fucking looking at her, so the both of you can fuck off out of my face.” He practically spits at her. Historia’s jaw drops and Mikasa just wants the earth to swallow her whole.
She rushes out of the cafeteria, Historia hot on her heels, spewing apologies. Eren turns to you, thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “You okay, baby?” He asks, pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Yeah, just not very hungry anymore.” You sigh. Eren frowns, but you’re sure to reassure him. “It’s not because of them, babe. Just wanna be alone with you right now.” You murmur, running your manicured hand along his arm.
He smirks, now eager to get you both out of there. “Hey, we’re gonna rain check on the lunch.” Eren announces to your friends. He helps you out of your seat, guiding you out of the cafeteria.
“He’s fucking whipped.” Connie jokes, gaining laughs from the two men.
— —
You both barely made it past the threshold of his dorm before you were on each other, tongues darting into each other’s mouths eager to gain dominance.
Eren presses you against the door, hiking you up to press his clothed cock against your cunt. “You don’t think anybody noticed, right?” He mumbles into your mouth, the taste of you too good to pull away from. “You fingering me under the table?” You ask. He nods, pulling back slightly to move his attention to your neck, the previous love bites fading to make room for new ones. You shrug, moaning as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot, your panties dampening further as a result, “Who cares?”
Eren chuckles at your neediness, moving to press a searing kiss to your lips as he walks you both to his bedroom. He carefully placed you down, pulling back fully to look at you.
He doesn’t think you fully grasp the hold you have on him, but there’s plenty of time to convince you.
He moves to peel away the tight mini skirt and top you have on, your lacy thong being the only thing keeping him from your warm center. You whine for him to get undressed, the sight of his hard abs and tattoos causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He obliges you, removing his hoodie and jeans along with his boxers before he rejoins you on the bed.
He runs a finger over your soaking panties before pulling them down, strings of your arousal sticking to the small piece of cloth.
The next moment is hazy to the both of you, all Eren knows is that he’s not going to be able to go one day without your pussy on his face.
He dives in, his tongue immediately lapping up the juices that escaped from your slick hole before trailing up to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. You whine, clit throbbing under his ministrations. He takes long, languid licks up and down the slit before flicking his tongue over the bud. You gasp as you cum with a shout, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
He’s faring no better, the way your thick thighs clamped over his head, squeezing him further into your cunt has him rutting against the sheets, the tip dripping pre. He pulls away when the need for air becomes necessary, taking in gulps of air while nuzzling into your fupa.
“You’re so pretty, baby. So fucking sexy.” He mumbles into the soft skin. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, the soft locks falling from your fingers. “Want you to fuck me, ‘Ren.” You whine out, aching to feel the length of him stretch you out. He complies, pressing kisses along your body before he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, the taste of you still dancing on his tongue.
He uses the kiss to distract you from the slight sting of his cock stretching your cunt. He hisses at the feel of your warm cunt wrapping around his cock, the slickness of your juices making the glide into you that much easier.
He sits up slightly, fucking into you as he reaches over you to grab something, groaning and cock twitching as he grabs his prize. You barely manage to look up to see your panties pressed against his nose, tongue laving over the damp patch.
You cry out at the sight, your pussy quivering as you pull him into a messy kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth. You both whine into each other's mouths, declarations of love spilling from each other's lips as you both reach your high. You clamp down around Eren, your cunt gushing and clenching as you coat his cock in your essence and he fills you up, warm cum painting your walls white.
You’re panting, the exertion catching up to you both as you snuggle into each other, your fingers tracing over the tattoo with your name on it. You’re tired, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re at it again.
It’s a good thing neither of them could keep him satisfied.
— —
Taglist:@xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @jesus-son-of-god @you-need-namjesus
#anime x chubby reader#anime x reader#x chubby reader#anime x black!reader#x black reader#aot x black reader#aot x chubby reader#eren yeager x chubby reader#eren yeager x black reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x chubby reader#eren yeager x reader#x reader#chubby reader#x black!reader#attack on titan x black reader#attack on titan x chubby reader#attack on titan x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).
pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader
genre. fluff
wc. 200-400 for each character
an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33

kaeya alberich
you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.
“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”
“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”
oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.
he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.
“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”
kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”
“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.
klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.
you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”
“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.
you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.
“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”
“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.
“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.
childe
you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.
his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.
the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.
ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”
you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”
he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.
“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”
“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”
“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.
if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-
when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”
kamisato ayato
these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!
thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?
“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”
the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.
“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.
he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.
“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.
ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”
your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”
you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!
“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.
“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.
“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”
kaveh
three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?
“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”
the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.
kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.
“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?
his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”
you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”
kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.
your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.
“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”
neuvillette
“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.
but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.
“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.
when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.
“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”
the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!
but why can’t he bring himself to say no?
the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.
when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.
it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.
“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.
neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.
“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”
neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”
#kaeya x reader#childe x reader#ayato x reader#kaveh x reader#neuvillette x reader#kaeya fluff#childe fluff#ayato fluff#kaveh fluff#neuvillette fluff#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Last Mask (17.2)
Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader
Chapter 17.2 - Keep You From Burning [NSFW]

Story Masterlist
NEXT : Chapter 18.2
PREV : Chapter 16
SFW ver. : Chapter 17.1

[Hwang In-ho’s Flashback…]
Hwang In-ho stood among the desperate, the hopeless, the damned. The neon glow of the voting panel illuminated the sea of green tracksuits, reflecting off the dull, exhausted eyes of players who had just witnessed how real this game was. He exhaled slowly, suppressing the satisfaction curling in his chest.
This was why he had come. To witness this firsthand. To prove that Seong Gi-hun’s naïve idealism was nothing more than a delusion. That these people weren’t victims. They were willing participants.
Gi-hun had begged them to quit, to see reason. But several players had openly rebuked and reprimanded him. Even when he admitted that he had won these games before, some didn’t believe him. Many doubted him. Then, player 100, a man drowning in a 10-billion debt, spoke up.
“Then let’s use him,” he declared, looking around the crowd. “If he really won, then he knows how to survive. We can use him to win this together.”
A murmur of consideration spread through the players. That’s when In-ho heard a scoff. Heads turned, including his, and he spotted her among the X zone. Player 423.
She looked out of place here. She didn’t look like someone who had been swallowed by debt. Even the way she carried herself was different. Calm, assessing, like she had already weighed all possible outcomes.
She met player 100’s eyes and spoke evenly. “Do you really think the next games will be exactly the same as before? They know there’s a previous winner here. They’re not going to let him give us an advantage. The games could be entirely different tomorrow, but we know one thing. Elimination means death. We should prioritize surviving over chasing money.”
In-ho watched closely, intrigued. Well, at least someone is using their brain here. But he knew it wouldn’t matter. The greedy always drowned out the rational.
And just as he expected, her words weren’t met with agreement. The desperate fools snapped back, dismissing her concerns. Their desire for wealth overrode logic. It was pathetic, really.
He glanced at Gi-hun, eager to see that moment of despair in his face. See? he thought. They don’t want to be saved. They never did. Gi-hun’s righteous crusade was laughable. He had come in, thinking he could be a hero, but these people weren’t his followers. They were gamblers who had already decided to risk it all.
Gi-hun moved to the back of the room, toward the unvoted players. A last attempt to change their minds. Desperate, In-ho mused. Pitiful.
Before Gi-hun could reach them, a triangle guard stepped forward and raised an MP5. The room tensed as Gi-hun froze, slowly raising his hands in surrender.
“From here on, we will not tolerate actions that disrupt the voting process,” the square-masked guard announced coldly.
In-ho smirked, barely hiding his satisfaction. There it is. The proof. You thought they were forced into this? That they were victims? Look at them, Gi-hun. They chose this. Just like they always will.
So much for ‘forced into it.’
Minutes into the vote, a slight movement came among the crowd of players in the X zone, and player 423 appeared. She moved quietly, heading straight for Gi-hun, who still had an MP5 aimed at him. Without hesitation, she reached for his sleeve and grasped it.
She spoke softly, “Come on. Let’s go back in.”
Just like that, the soldier lowered their weapon, no longer seeing Gi-hun as a threat. Without another word, the latter followed 423 back into the X zone.
In-ho’s dark eyes noticed how several players were staring at you with lingering look.
His turn to vote came quickly. Stepping up to the voting counter as player 001, he briefly wondered if Gi-hun would grow suspicious of him. The last time Gi-hun played these games, player 001 had been Oh Il-nam – the host of the Squid Game in South Korea.
With a neutral expression, In-ho pressed O.
A roar of cheers erupted from the O players behind him. Greedy fools, celebrating their own downfall. With his back facing the crowd, his lips curled into a smirk. These people had chosen this. Gi-hun’s attempt at playing the hero had been nothing but a joke. They weren’t forced. They weren’t trapped. They were exactly where they wanted to be.
He spun around, his gaze immediately landing on Gi-hun. The man stood still, eyes cast downward, shoulders heavy with the weight of failure. In-ho’s smirk deepened. There it is, he thought. That crushing realization. You’re not the hero they wanted, Gi-hun. You’re just another fool who thought he could change them.
But before he could fully savor the sight, player 423 nudged Gi-hun gently, whispering something to him. Without hesitation, Gi-hun and player 390 turned and followed her back to their corner.
In-ho’s eyes stayed on player 423.
Is she the type to keep propping him up? To keep feeding his delusions? He had seen it before. People clinging to the idea of hope, of salvation. Was she one of them? Or was she something else entirely?
For now, he would watch. He had time, after all.
***
“Help us then, sir.”
Gi-hun, player 423, and 390 looked up. Gi-hun’s expression hardened immediately, but player 390 and 423 studied In-ho more carefully. Gi-hun didn’t respond at first. He seemed content to ignore them. But In-ho knew how to get him to talk.
He just had to appeal to his ‘heroism.’
So, he did. “Honestly, I was scared. I wanted to quit and leave. But you made me think maybe I could play just one more game.”
That got Gi-hun’s attention. Just as expected.
Before Gi-hun could respond, player 423 spoke up, her voice calm but pointed. “Looks like it’s a bad idea revealing you’re a previous winner.”
In-ho almost smirked.
Gi-hun turned to player 423. “I thought it would make everyone understand… that everyone here is doomed to die as long as we stay here.”
Player 423 nodded silently, accepting Gi-hun’s reasoning, before glancing over at In-ho. Their eyes met, and she held the contact for a moment before looking away, almost bashfully.
In-ho didn’t break his gaze, but when she finally looked away, he turned back to Gi-hun and laid out his first trap. “Sir, you know which game’s next, don’t you?”
Gi-hun fell for it and announced to everyone nearby that the next game would be Dalgona.
“Four shapes? Which was the easiest one?” player 390 asked quickly.
“Triangle.”
“Which was the hardest?” 390 pressed.
“Umbrella.”
“Umbrella?” In-ho scoffed, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Some people actually chose umbrella? Those unlucky bastards must have bitten the dust.”
Gi-hun looked at him pointedly, obviously feeling the jab. In-ho held his stare, enjoying the brief flicker of irritation.
As player 100 suggested keeping this information to themselves, Gi-hun spoke up “heroically”, stating that he was sharing it with everyone in order to save their lives.
“And we don’t even know if the next game will really be Dalgona,” player 423 added.
In-ho glanced at her again. She wasn’t wrong. So far, she was the only one who had spoken with intelligence and logic in this room.
After a while, all of the other players left the corner except for In-ho. He carefully observed the three individuals in Gi-hun's small group. It is time to become part of his inner circle, he thought.
Once he got an opportunity to slip in, In-ho finally spoke up, asking why Gi-hun came back after winning. Gi-hun explained that he saw the money as belonging to the people who had died in the game.
In-ho thought Gi-hun’s guilt was pointless. He told him that feeling bad wouldn’t bring anyone back, but Gi-hun argued that if he had voted for X, they could have all escaped. In-ho calmly reminded him that 186 players had chosen to stay, proving that they wanted to be there.
The tension between them grew as Gi-hun refused to change his mind. He still believed he could save people. Before the argument could get worse, player 390 stepped in, telling them to focus on surviving the next game instead.
In-ho smirked to himself. Gi-hun was easy to figure out. Full of guilt, easy to upset, and determined to be a hero. That made him the perfect person for In-ho to control.
“But we can’t always rely on him,” player 423 interjected. “He doesn’t need more pressure from everyone expecting too much from him.”
In-ho noted her words carefully. Unlike the others, she wasn’t looking for a leader to follow blindly. She understood the weight Gi-hun carried and didn’t want to add to it.
He had expected the usual desperation – the kind that turned people into obedient followers. Yet, here she was, pulling in the opposite direction. Did she genuinely care about Gi-hun’s well-being or was she trying to keep the focus off of him? Either way, it was something worth watching.
He kept his expression neutral, but inside, he calculated his next move. For now, he just listened. Observing. Waiting. Timing was everything.
In-ho sat quietly as player 388, now introducing himself as Kang Dae-ho, approached Gi-hun’s group with eagerness. He claimed they needed to stick together and quickly tried to integrate himself, offering a handshake. Player 390 wasn’t convinced and dismissed him with skepticism.
Dae-ho hesitated, scanning the group. He glanced briefly at In-ho, who kept his head lowered, and then at Gi-hun, who barely acknowledged him. But then his eyes landed on player 423. She was the only one who didn’t look at him with doubt and In-ho watched closely as she accepted his handshake. He found her openness naïve but useful. She was clearly someone people gravitated toward.
Soon enough, Dae-ho and player 390 fell into an exaggerated display of military pride, loudly exchanging salutes and class numbers.
In-ho kept his expression neutral when player 423 asked whether Marines commonly got tattoos like that.
Seeing an opportunity to reinforce his harmless old-man act, In-ho spoke, “It’s not officially required, but many in the ROKMC see it as a tradition.”
She nodded in understanding, her curiosity seemingly satisfied.
In-ho watched as she turned away from the over-the-top military display between player 390 and 388. Unlike the others, she didn’t seem easily swept up in pointless distractions. She began cleaning up her lunchbox, taking slow sips from her water bottle, before glancing at him.
“Have you eaten already?” she asked casually.
He met her gaze and gave a warm, practiced smile. “Yes, I have.”
She nodded, returning his smile without hesitation. “Good. The food they prepared for us was worth it. It’s a waste not to eat it.”
In-ho felt amused. This will be the last time you will have proper meal, he thought.
Then, shifting her attention, she looked at Gi-hun’s untouched lunchbox. “You need to eat, sir. It’s better to mull things over with a full stomach.”
Gi-hun hesitated but finally complied, opening his lunchbox and eating without a word. In-ho took note of this. Although this was their first time meeting each other, player 423 had an influence over Gi-hun. Her words made him act. That was useful.
A moment later, she leaned slightly closer to him, lowering her voice. “By the way, do you know where the ladies’ restroom is?”
He gestured toward the right side of the main double doors. “That one there. The other is for the men.”
“Oh, thanks. Wouldn’t want to get lost and get shot by the guards.”
As player 423 chuckled lightly at her own joke, In-ho noticed – again – a few men sent glances at you from behind.
In-ho turned his attention back on you and smiled in hilarity. “I’m sure the guards would bring you back here if you were lost.”
She chuckled softly. “That’s comforting to know.”
Their exchange was simple, but it caught his attention. She appeared cautious and not foolishly overconfident either. Despite the situation, she managed to maintain a ray of smiles. In-ho couldn't help but assume that she was the type to hide her fear and dread behind a facade of happiness and reassurance.
“If you don’t mind me asking… why did you come here?” he asked, his voice gentle.
For the first time, she hesitated. Gi-hun, who had been listening, turned his head slightly, but said nothing. Then, with a fake smile In-ho caught on right away, she answered, “I needed the money.”
Predictable. Everyone here did. But he wanted more. “That’s all of us. But if I may say… I’m surprised. A lady like you shouldn’t have to bear the burden of crippling debt.”
Something shifted in her expression. The polished calm wavered just slightly.
She looked away, her gaze falling to the floor. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “The debts are my parents’, actually.”
In-ho studied you carefully. The way you hesitated, how your eyes darted away. It told him something. There was more to your story, more than just a desperate need for money. He filed the observation away, storing it for later. You weren’t like the others. They were here to survive for themselves. But you? You carried a weight that wasn’t entirely your own.
He had seen people like you before. People who took on burdens that weren’t theirs to carry, who fought battles that weren’t meant to be their own. It made them strong in some ways, but vulnerable in others. A person like that could break under the wrong kind of pressure.
Then, a fight had broken out on the other side of the dormitory. Player 333 was on the floor, getting beaten by player 230 and his lackey (124). The crowd did nothing, just stood there, frozen with fear or disinterest. Even player 390 and Dae-ho, who had been loud moments before, simply watched, their sleeves still rolled up, tattoos exposed.
Then, player 423 spoke. “Good thing I finished eating. Still, ganging up on him is just unfair.”
Her words made In-ho glance at her. She seemed frustrated, maybe even considering stepping in. He realized this could be a chance to earn Gi-hun's group's trust. By stepping in first, he could present himself as someone reliable, someone worth keeping close.
In-ho stood up. He strode ahead, walking past player 390 and Dae-ho, approaching the unfair fight with steady steps.
He ultimately had to physically overpower the two bullies, which he did with ease that was almost comical. When he let go of player 230, the entire room erupted into cheers and praises.
In-ho observed the unexpected praise that followed. The applause and admiration were foreign to him in this environment. He hadn’t expected approval – only fear or wariness. Yet here they were, cheering. It reminded him of when he became a police officer, a job he had dedicated his entire youth to. Back then, the respect and admiration of others had felt earned, a validation of his sacrifice.
Even player 423 clapped, her expression genuine. She had no doubt taken note of his ability, but rather than suspicion, she responded with admiration.
As he walked back toward their corner, he caught player 390 and Dae-ho murmuring among themselves. Soon, he arrived at the corner, and both boys looked at him with newfound respect.
“Sir, that was incredible,” player 390 said, clearly impressed. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Dae-ho added, “Seriously, the way you took them down without breaking a sweat. Are you some kind of martial artist or what?”
In-ho smiled, keeping the mystery alive. “Let’s just say I’ve picked up a thing or two along the way.”
The two men nodded in unison, seemingly satisfied.
“Man of mystery,” Dae-ho muttered appreciatively.
Player 423, however, leaned forward slightly. Her voice was softer and caring. “But you’re not hurt at all, right? You seemed upset.”
Her concern was unexpected. In-ho turned to her, meeting her gaze, and let his smile soften. “Not at all. I left and came back the same.”
Player 390 and Dae-ho continued to marvel at him, the earlier tension in the dormitory now fading. The fight had made its mark, and In-ho knew he had established himself as someone not to be underestimated. But player 423’s reaction lingered in his mind till that evening.
In-ho found out that player 423’s kindness and hesitation made her easy to manipulate. She was cautious but not distrustful, willing to take advice if it sounded reasonable. That was exactly the kind of person he needed to secure his place within Gi-hun’s group. If he played his role well – friendly, wise, and unassuming – he could ensure that no one suspected his true identity.
***
As the robotic voice announced the second game, instructing players to form teams of six, In-ho watched the tension rise. Player 390 immediately questioned Gi-hun about Dalgona, but before he could answer, player 100 and his group approached.
“Isn’t this the Dalgona game?” player 100 asked bluntly.
Gi-hun’s subdued response confirmed otherwise. The disappointment on his face was unmistakable. He had wanted to help, but the reality was settling in. The games weren’t the same to his past experience. In-ho smirked inwardly at Gi-hun’s naivety.
Player 100’s patience snapped. His frustration boiled over as he accused Gi-hun of misleading them. The anger in his voice drew attention, fueling the simmering tension in the room.
Before things could escalate further, player 423 spoke up. She directly challenged player 100, reminding him that she had warned the games wouldn’t be the same. In-ho watched with interest as she held her ground. But instead of backing down, player 100 turned his ire on her, mocking her intelligence and ridiculing her for speaking up.
In-ho couldn't help but notice player 423's shocked expression when the old man hurled his insults at her. She had been all smiles just moments before. Suddenly, he felt a spark ignite within him – something he hadn't felt since losing his job and his wife’s passing.
That's when he decided to intervene.
With measured steps, he positioned himself between them, his expression cold and dark. His voice carried quiet authority as he uttered a simple but firm warning: “That’s enough.”
Player 100 and his lackeys finally walked away, still clinging to their bravado, throwing sneers in Gi-hun’s direction. The moment they left, Gi-hun turned to his group and muttered an apology, guilt weighing heavy in his voice.
That was exactly the opening In-ho had been waiting for.
He stepped in first, his voice calm and reassuring, telling Gi-hun there was no need to apologize. He even expressed his hope to be on the same team with him. The reaction was immediate. Gi-hun looked at him in surprise as if struggling to believe that someone still trusted him after his miscalculation.
In-ho inwardly smiled. The doubt in Gi-hun’s eyes quickly melted into something closer to relief. He had taken the bait. Gaining trust this easily almost made In-ho pity him. Almost. But he wasn���t done yet. He had to play the long game, solidify himself as someone reliable, someone Gi-hun would lean on without question.
And when the time was right, Gi-hun would tell him everything. His plans, his thoughts, how he intended to stop this game operation.
All In-ho had to do was wait.
However, he didn’t take you into account.
Once Dae-ho left the circle to find another player for their team, Player 423 suddenly turned to In-ho, her expression soft, her eyes warm with quiet admiration. A small, sincere smile spread across her lips.
“By the way, thank you for the back-up.”
In-ho turned to her, momentarily caught off guard. The way she looked at him – tilting her head slightly, her gaze innocent – was the epitome of gratitude. There was no hesitation, no manipulation, no ulterior motive. Just pure appreciation, directed entirely at him.
It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like this.
He had spent years living in cold detachment, watching people from behind a mask, always calculating his next move. Affection, trust, admiration. Those were tools to be used, emotions to manipulate. And yet, standing here, looking into her eyes, he felt something stir inside him. Something unfamiliar.
Warmth.
It was so human. He rarely allowed himself to feel anything beyond necessity, but this was different. It was a quiet reminder of who he had been before everything in his life fell apart.
Before he lost her.
His wife had once looked at him like this. And now, here was another girl whom he did not know the name yet, seeing him as just a man. A man worth looking at, worth appreciating. She unknowingly stirred that same feeling within him. It unsettled him yet he wanted to bask in it more.
In-ho returned the smile to smile. “It’s no problem. If he or his friends say anything rude or try to push you around, just tell me. I’ll protect you.”
In-ho took in the way her expression shifted – soft, unguarded, and almost shy. It was rare for him to be looked at like this, not with suspicion or calculation, but with something gentler, something warmer. He realized then that they had been holding eye contact for a long moment, neither of them breaking away.
His eyes traced the way hers flickered slightly, dipping down just for a second, to his lips, before returning to his gaze. He wasn’t sure if she even realized she had done it, but he had.
For once, he let himself linger in the moment. No plans, no calculations, no manipulations. It’s just the quiet, shared space between them. Because for the first time in a long while, he didn’t mind being seen like a normal person.
This would be for a short while, he thought. At least before her elimination… unless she ends up winning these games.
Dae-ho had secured another teammate – another Marine – and the group seemed satisfied. Then, a petite girl, player 222, approached and asked to join. When she revealed that she was pregnant, the entire circle instinctively glanced at her belly.
In-ho’s thoughts drifted for a moment. Had the recruiter known about her condition before she was pulled into the game? Perhaps not. She was small, and her belly wasn’t prominent. It was possible she had managed to hide it from everyone.
Then, before anyone else could respond, player 423 spoke up, “You know what? Take her and Mr. 096. I’ll go find another team.”
She was already stepping out of the circle when In-ho moved without thinking, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder.
It was instinctive. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between the small moments they had shared, between her quiet strength and the warmth in her voice, she had become someone he wanted to keep close.
Could it be that he’s clinging onto something that made him feel warm and human after so many cold and isolated years? Or perhaps he at least wanted to bask in her warm embrace before she gets eliminated.
His fingers curled slightly, just enough to make sure she didn’t take another step. She turned, eyes wide in surprise, and that’s when he noticed another hand land on her other shoulder. Player 390. Then, Gi-hun and Dae-ho took a step forward.
In a tangle of overlapping words, all of them spoke at once, “No, no, no.”
***
[Back to present…]
The metallic rasp of the zipper filled the room as Young-il tugged it down. Your breath caught in your throat with each inch the fabric parted. The zipper stopped at your belly button, revealing your bra as the cool air kissed your newly exposed, sweaty skin.
Young-il broke the kiss only briefly to glare down and yank the jumpsuit off your shoulders with a sharp tug impatiently. It slid down your arms and past your elbows, catching for a moment on your wrists before you sat up and he released them from the confines of the garment. You lied back down with the sleeves puddling around your waist, revealing the creamy expanse of your skin.
Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, lips parted invitingly. Young-il wasted no time, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. His lips moved demandingly against yours, tongue delving deep, exploring and claiming. You found yourself powerless to resist as your own tongue danced with his.
He rolled his hips against yours, pinning you beneath him as he savored the taste of your mouth. The heat of his body seared through the thick fabric of his black outfit. With his body pressing you down, you could feel every hard plane and angle of his body, the solid muscle beneath the material.
The kiss grew more urgent as if he was losing control. His hands roamed over your newly bared flesh. Gloved fingers skimmed over the soft swell of your breasts, grazing over nipples that pebbled under his touch. His thumbs circled the hardened peaks, teasing them to stiffness.
His hands then slid down to your hips, gripping the bunched up fabric of your jumpsuit. With a swift, impatient tug, he yanked the garment downwards, peeling it down. The material slid over your thighs, calves, and finally off your feet. He tossed the crumpled jumpsuit aside carelessly, leaving you bare before him except for your bra and panties.
You focused your gaze on Young-il’s face and was rendered breathless. His gaze darkened with lust as his eyes devoured every inch of your newly exposed skin. The dim light of his bedroom cast shadows that accentuated your curves, rendering you practically radiant to his hungry gaze. He leaned down, his breath hot against your neck before his lips found your flesh. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and the delicate line of your collarbone.
You turned your head to the side, a sudden bashfulness overcoming you as you whimpered almost inaudibly, “Wait... I'm sweaty. Let me take a shower first.”
“No need,” he breathed. He seemed undeterred. If anything, the sheen of sweat on your body only served to excite him further, highlighting the beauty of your form in the most intimate way.
His hands began to explore your naked body, his gloved fingers skimming over your skin. He traced the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. Each touch left a trail of goosebumps in its wake, your body responding eagerly to his caress.
Young-il's gloved fingers slid over the smooth fabric of your bra, tracing the delicate lace and satin that covered your breasts. With a quick flick of his wrist, he unhooked the clasp and tossed the garment aside, leaving you completely exposed to him.
His gaze lingered on your bare chest, his eyes taking in every detail as if committing it to memory. Your cheeks flushed with a delicate pink as you averted your gaze, your hands trembling slightly as they rested on either side of your head on the soft sheets. Your body was revealed in all its vulnerability as his heated and possessive gaze bore into you. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, your body still glistening with a light layer of sweat.
He reached out and gently squeezed your breast, causing it to pucker. Lowering his head, he traced a path between your breasts with his tongue, eliciting a soft moan from you as you arched closer to him.
He peppered kisses along the slope of your breast before taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and playing it with his tongue. Whimpers and moans escaped your lips as your body responded to his touch. The room was filled with the rustling of sheets as you moved against them and the sound of his tongue flicking against your skin. The bed frame creaked as he shifted to better explore your body.
Without breaking eye contact with you, he let go of your wet nipple, saliva still connecting his mouth to your breast. You couldn’t help but stare at his eyes – dark and clouded with lust. He then moved to suckle on your other nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands roamed over your skin, exploring every inch of you as he continued to trail kisses down your body.
He reached the waistband of your panties and hesitated for a moment, his dark gaze flicking up to meet yours. In their depths, you saw a swirl of hunger, of desire, of something almost primal. It made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.
With a sudden jerk, his gloved hands grabbed at the edges of the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. You gasped as the cool air brushed against your exposed skin. He discarded the last piece of your clothing just as carelessly as he had done with your bra.
His gloved hands reached for your thighs and brought them up against your stomach, folding you in half. You yelped in surprise, the suddenness of his movement caught you off guard. You felt exposed and vulnerable in this intimate position. Your body was fully on display for him to see. It sent shivers down your spine.
His dark eyes clouded in arousal as he stared down at your exposed sex. The smooth skin and delicate folds of your lower lips were on full display. He reached out with a gloved hand and ran a single finger along your slit, feeling the heat radiating from your arousal. A low, approving groan rumbled in his chest.
You averted your eyes to the side. With a shy and almost embarrassed expression, you crossed your arms over your chest as if trying to regain some sense of modesty after being fully exposed. Your exposed breasts were pressed together under your arms.
With his hands on the back of your thighs, he pushed your legs further apart, opening you fully to his hungry gaze. His breath, hot and heavy with desire, fanned over your most intimate place. You shuddered, your hips twitching with anticipation.
Without warning, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your folds, tasting your essence. A gasp of pleasure and shock escaped your lips. Your body jolted in pleasure, the rustling of sheets accompanied you, as your hands fisted in the sheets.
The wet, slick sound of his tongue moving over your folds was interspersed with quiet gasps and moans from both you and him. The wetness between your legs created a symphony of sensual sounds as he licked and sucked. You could hear the slight squelching noises as he delved deeper, his tongue flicking and circling your sensitive clit. As he drew more of your juices to the surface, your body thrashed in pleasure on the bed as he drove you towards bliss.
His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he feasted on you. You were helpless to do anything but feel, your body writhing with pleasure. Obscene slurping and sucking sounds filled the room as he ate you out with gusto.
You were locked in place and helpless. Your body twisted and writhed on the bed, unable to control the waves of ecstasy that washed over you. The sounds of wet licking and sucking filled the air, punctuated by your moans and gasps of pleasure. Each slurp and suck echoed off the walls, mixing with the rustling of sheets and your frenzied movements to create a soundtrack of lust and animalistic desire.
As your body began to quiver and your slick walls fluttered around his tongue, he sensed your impending climax. Your thighs trembled and clenched around his head as your moans grew louder and more desperate. The wetness between your legs increased, coating his chin and dripping down onto the sheets below.
He could feel your body tensing, your back arching off the bed as your climax approached. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, gripping them tightly as if trying to hold yourself in place. You were teetering on the brink, ready to plunge into the sea of ecstasy that awaited you.
Just as your orgasm was about to crash over you like a tidal wave, he suddenly pulled away. His face emerged from between your thighs, glistening with your essence. You let out a sound of dismay, your body still coiled and yearning for release. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide with distress. His eyes were dark and focused on you as he wiped your juices from his chin.
As soon as he saw the disappointment on your face, a smirk appeared on his lips. He said, “Not yet, sweetheart. I have another place for you to come all over.”
His words sent a thrill down your spine, your pussy clenching at the crude promise. You could feel the hard bulge of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, hot and thick even through his clothing.
Suddenly, he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. A symphony of breathless moans and gasps filled the room, accompanied by the wet sounds of your kissing. Meanwhile, the rustle of fabric echoed in the room as their bodies pressed together, accompanied by his hands expertly moving and exploring her body, eliciting soft whimpers and sighs from her.
He suddenly pulled away from the intense kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting. You watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he leveraged himself up and knelt between your still-spread thighs.
His dark, intense gaze remained locked onto you as he slowly peeled off his gloves. The black leather fell away and he then began to remove his own clothing. He took off his black coat, revealing the toned muscle beneath inch by tantalizing inch. His chest was broad and defined. His abdominal muscles were still defined, but visible signs of aging could be seen. Despite everything, you still found him physically appealing. It was hard to believe that he hid all of that under his player's tracksuit and all-black outfit.
Next, he undid his belt, the jingle of the buckle echoing in the otherwise quiet room. He withdrew from the bed and stood. Now that he no longer held or pinned your body to the bed, your legs finally found their way back to resting on the bed after being folded and then spread out. He stepped out of the pants and kicked them aside. Left in only his black boxers, the prominent outline of his thick erection strained against the fabric.
His eyes never left yours as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slowly drew them down. Your breath caught in your throat as inch after inch of his hard, thick cock was revealed. It sprang free, long and heavy, the swollen head already glistening with arousal.
He climbed back onto the bed. His hands gripped your legs apart and pinned them to either side of his hips. Your slick, swollen folds were laid bare before him, glistening with your arousal.
Young-il paused for a moment, admiring the sight of your needy, dripping sex. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Without warning, he flicked your sensitive clit with the pad of his thumb, making you gasp and buck against his touch.
He flicked it again, and again, each snap of his fingers sending jolts of electricity through your core. You writhed beneath him, your back arching off the bed as you struggled to maintain control. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, he surprised you by slipping a finger deep inside your tight channel.
Your walls clenched around the sudden intrusion, drawing his finger in deeper. A low moan spilled from your lips as he began to pump his finger in and out, stroking that secret spot inside you that made your toes curl. He watched your face intently, drinking in every flicker of pleasure and need that crossed your expression. Without warning, he added a second finger, stretching you further, filling you more. Your hips bucked upwards in response, seeking more of this delicious friction.
His fingers pumped faster, thrusting deeper, stroking your silken walls with ruthless precision. The obscene sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filled the room as he fingered you with increasing speed. His thumb circled your clit mercilessly, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice.
Young-il could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his plunging fingers. He knew you were close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. His eyes darkened with lust and hunger as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He curled his fingers just right, rubbing against that spot that made you see stars.
Just as your climax was about to overtake you, Young-il suddenly withdrew his fingers. Your walls clenched desperately around the sudden emptiness, aching for his touch. Your eyes blew wide and mouth fell open in disbelief at the cruel timing.
He smirked down at you, a wicked glint in his dark eyes, as he watched the disappointment and frustration play out across your beautiful face.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, thumbs digging into the soft skin as he leaned down to your mouth.
“Patience, flower,” he said, his voice a low, seductive growl that sent shivers down your spine despite the frustration coursing through your veins.
Suddenly, he gripped your hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass. With a sharp tug, he spread your thighs even wider, opening you fully to him. Your slick folds glistened in the low light, quivering with a desperate need that only he could satisfy at this moment.
He positioned himself between your legs, the thick head of his cock brushing against your needy clit. The contact made you gasp as your hands dug into the sheets. Slowly and deliberately, he rubbed the tip of his member along your slit, coating it in your slick arousal.
Your breathing became labored as everything came crashing down on you. This is finally happening, you thought. You had never done this and had fought hard to protect yourself and your body. Now, you were willing to let it all go and open yourself up to the man you had fallen deeply in love with.
He gripped your hips tightly, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he slowly pushed forward. The thick head of his cock stretched your slick folds open as he began to enter you inch by delicious inch. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his hardening length, drawing him deeper.
Halfway inside, he suddenly leaned down, folding your body in half. Your thighs pressed tight against your abdomen as he crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Shock jolted through you at the sudden onslaught, but you found yourself welcoming his invading tongue with an open mouth.
As he plundered your mouth, claiming you thoroughly, he thrust forward harder. More of his thick cock speared into your tight heat, stretching you wider around his rigid flesh. Overwhelmed, your mind hazed with sensation. You released the sheets and wrapped your arms around his back, inadvertently scratching him in the process. You could only cling to him as he slowly, relentlessly filled you.
His tongue dominated your mouth, absorbing your muffled moans and whimpers. Your body trembled, back arching as he sunk into your silken depths. The mix of foreign sensations – his tongue conquering your mouth, his cock conquering your pussy – left you dizzy and breathless. The wet sounds of his deep, filthy kiss and the obscene squelches of his cock sinking into your dripping cunt filled the room.
He didn't stop until he was balls deep, his pelvis flush against yours, his heavy sack resting against your ass, and the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. He broke the kiss, both of you panting harshly as you struggled to catch your breath. His dark eyes burned into yours, pupils blown wide with lust and desire.
For a long moment, he simply held you there, buried to the hilt in your quivering heat. The thick weight of his cock pulsed inside you, stirring your insides and claiming you utterly. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he began to move.
He began to move, slow and gentle at first. The thick head of his cock dragged against your inner walls as he withdrew until just the tip remained inside. Then he slammed back in, sheathing himself fully in your slick heat once more in one powerful thrust. He repeated the same action, each thrust causing your breasts to bounce and sway alluringly.
He suddenly pulled away from you, causing your arms to slip off his back. Then, he gripped the backs of your thighs and pressed them against your stomach, folding you in half. You whimpered in surprise. His pace began to increase, his strokes growing longer and harder. His movements became more forceful, rougher and quicker. With every deep thrust, your moans grew louder and more distinct, escaping from your lips uncontrollably.
The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Each thrust was accompanied by a groan of pleasure from him and a gasp or moan from you. The bed shook and creaked under the force of his powerful thrusts. The grip of his hands on your thighs tightened possessively. As he held you in place, all you could hear was the symphony of pleasure and desire between two bodies lost in the heat of passion.
Out of the blue, he leaned over, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. It was as if he wanted to be the only one to see you in this world, mounting and claiming you possessively. His eyes, once filled with ruthlessness and fury towards his opponents, were now darkened with an intense and unquenchable desire for you. You couldn't help but wonder if he had been holding back all this time. After all, you had caught him stealing glances at your lips on multiple occasions.
His movements were unrelenting, forcing you to slide up the bed with each forceful thrust of his hips. But he didn't let go completely; he held onto your hips, pulling you back onto him in a never-ending rhythm.
His form hovered over you, his sweat-slick skin glistening in the dim light of the room. With every thrust, his chest and abs flexed, his face contorted in pleasure. You could see the veins popping in his arms as he pounded into you unceasingly. The sheets twisted and bunched beneath your bodies, evidence of the intense passion between you.
Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with the delicious friction of him moving inside you. The feeling of being filled so completely was incredible, more than anything you could have imagined. The sensation was intense, too much and yet not enough all at once.
Eventually, his desire became too overwhelming for him to control any longer. His hips slammed into yours with brutal force, the obscene slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the room. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs, replaced by strangled cries and whimpers. Your breasts bounced wildly, the movement sending ripples across your soft skin.
The room was filled with the rapid rhythm of your bodies colliding, the wet and primal sounds of skin on skin. The creaking of the bed frame and the rustling of sheets were accompanied by your shared moans and gasps. With each forceful thrust, the air was knocked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. Your body moved in perfect symphony with his as they danced together in a frenzy of passion and desire.
Young-il withdrew his hands from the sheets and gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, fingers sinking into your tender flesh. He pushed your knees up to your chest, nearly folding you in half as he loomed over you. His eyes blazed with feral hunger, drunk on the sight of your body surrendering to his dominant thrusts.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he snarled, voice ragged with lust. “Fucking tight and wet, squeezing all over my cock.”
He punctuated his words with a particularly rough thrust, burying himself balls deep. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red as you looked away shyly. You were surprised that he could speak to you in such a provocative manner. It was incredibly alluring and it only served to make you even more aroused.
Slick, obscene squelches and wet slaps filled the air as he took you with animalistic fervor. The bed shook and shuddered, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of his hips. Sweat dripped down his chest and abs, his skin glistening in the dim light.
He angled his hips, changing the trajectory of his thrusts. The new position allowed him to strike that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you with every slam of his pelvis against yours. Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as pleasure bordered on pain, your body writhing beneath his relentless assault.
The wet slaps of your bodies colliding filled the room, mixing with your gasps for air and the occasional grunt from him. Each thrust elicited a shy and breathless “Ah!” from you, punctuating the symphony of your fucking. Despite your attempts to stifle them, the moans escaped your lips uncontrollably.
Young-il's grunts turned guttural and harsh as his thrusts grew more erratic. The bed springs creaked and groaned under the force of his movements, the headboard slamming rhythmically into the wall. The air was thick with the musky scent of sex and sweat, the sounds of your coupling echoing obscenely in the room.
He leaned in close, baring his teeth and sinking them into the tender skin where your neck and shoulder met. You gasped as a sharp pain shot through you. Despite the discomfort, your body arched instinctively, pressing closer to him. He bit down firmly, but not enough to draw blood. His hips continued their relentless rhythm against yours, driving you further into the bed. Your hands reached out and grasped at his back, leaving red marks in your ecstasy.
Young-il released your neck, a deep mark indented in your skin where his teeth had been. His dark eyes, wild and intense, bored into yours. Without warning, he grabbed your thighs, hands gripping the backs of them tightly.
“Spread your legs more for me,” he commanded huskily. He didn't wait for a response before using his grip to fold your legs up and back, essentially bending you in half. Your knees pressed to your breasts as he held you in a mating press.
This position allowed him to sink even deeper into your core. Each powerful thrust now kissed your cervix, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. The headboard slammed rhythmically against the wall as he rutted into you like a man possessed.
His face hovered inches from yours, eyes blazing with a dark and primal hunger. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, could see the sweat dripping down his chiseled jawline. His breathing came in harsh pants, each exhale hot against your lips.
His hips never ceased their relentless rhythm as he grunted, “Such a good little girl, so tight and perfect.”
He released your thigh with one hand and used it to forcefully grip your chin, turning your face to meet his gaze. Your eyes were heavy-lidded with extreme pleasure. Your mouth was already open, filled with moans and gasps, and he took advantage of the opportunity to press his lips against yours. His tongue darted into your mouth as he continued thrusting his hips into you. The intense kiss only added to the sensations of pleasure coursing through your body.
You were overwhelmed as he slammed into you, simultaneously devouring your mouth. The only thing you could do was to scratch his back in an attempt to alleviate the sensation.
Young-il’s hips surged forward with wild abandon, the obscene slap of flesh against flesh echoing through the room. The bedsprings screamed in protest with each powerful thrust. His cock pounded into your soaked, clinging heat, the veiny shaft stretching you exquisitely.
Drunk on lust, he gripped your thigh with his other hand, holding you in place as he rutted into you like a man possessed. The new angle allowed him to strike your cervix dead-on, each brutal thrust sending waves of intense sensation crashing through your core.
Your body started to quake and tremble, your walls beginning to flutter around his plunging cock. The pressure built rapidly, your climax fast approaching. Obscene, choked moans spilled from your lips, mixing with the animalistic grunts tearing from Young-il's throat.
The room filled with a symphony of carnal noises – the wet slap of skin on skin, the creaking of the abused bed, the panting breaths and garbled cries of two people lost in the throes of passion. Young-il's eyes flashed wild and feral as they drilled into yours, his handsome face contorted in pleasure.
“I'm close,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “Come for me. Come.”
His command, coupled with the relentless pounding of his hips, sent you hurtling over the edge. Your vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of color as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of sheer ecstasy consuming your body. Your nails raked down his sweat-slicked back as you clung to him, back arching as your walls clenched viciously around his pistoning shaft.
As your climax overtook you, Young-il let out a loud groan. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm as the first hot spurts of his release shot forth. The sensation of his thick seed painting your insides pushed you into a second, even more devastating orgasm. Your body seized and trembled, back arching clean off the bed as you screamed your pleasure.
He collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, pinning you as he emptied himself inside your spasming cunt. Each twitch of his cock was followed by another gush of potent cum, flooding your womb until you swore you could feel it sloshing inside you.
He buried his face against your neck, panting harshly as the final waves of his climax rolled through him. Slowly, his movements slowed to shallow, lazy thrusts as he rode out the aftershocks.
The two of you remained entwined, him still buried deep inside your quivering heat. His weight pressed you into the mattress, the heat of his skin seeping into yours. The room was filled with the sound of ragged breathing – yours mingling with his – as you both struggled to regain composure in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.
Young-il lifted his head slowly, his dark gaze meeting yours. There was a new softness in his eyes, a tenderness that wasn't usually present. A small, satisfied smile played on his lips as he took in your dazed and blissed-out expression. He brushed a few damp tendrils of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and rough from their exertions.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, his breath tickling your skin as he let out a soft sigh of contentment. His lips brushed against the tender skin there, pressing a kiss onto the bite mark he had left earlier. A shiver ran through you at the intimate touch and a satisfied hum resonated from deep within him.
“My flower,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your skin. His hands ghosted down your sides, tracing small circles over your overheated flesh.
Turning his head slightly, Young-il pressed another kiss to your shoulder before pulling out of you slowly. It was a sweet discomfort that had you gripping his arms tightly, biting back a low moan.
He rolled over onto his back, drawing you into his embrace. Your head fell onto his heaving chest, your body still shaking with the remnants of your climax. His hand moved to soothe your trembling limbs, fingers drawing slow, calming circles on your skin.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his tone soft as if he was afraid to break the spell of the moment. The rhythm of his heart thrumming underneath your ear was a soothing lullaby that began to lull you into a state of drowsy relaxation.
Your body was achy and sated, and the pleasant throb between your thighs was a testament to Young-il’s fervor. You could still feel the remnants of his release trickling from you and soaking into the sheets below. It was dirty and obscene but also incredibly intimate in a way that made heat bloom in your cheeks.
The both of you lay naked on the bed, your head resting against his chest as you side-hugged him. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a rhythmic lull that should have calmed you. He lay on his back, fingers trailing slow, absentminded strokes along your damp skin. His gaze – now relaxed – was fixed on the ceiling, while your heavy-lidded eyes remained locked on the wall.
Your bodies glowed in the dim light, entwined beneath tangled sheets. The rise and fall of his chest beneath you was grounding, steady. Yet, beneath that warmth, doubt festered.
Your mind churned with conflicting emotions. You finally got to think clearly. Relief, disbelief, betrayal, longing. You had surrendered to him too easily. You had given in to his touch, his presence, before you had the chance to fully comprehend the weight of his revelation. He wasn’t just Young-il, the man who protected you, the man who made you feel safe. He was him. The orchestrator of this entire operation. The one who had watched hundreds of players fall, one by one.
Your stomach twisted as your thoughts tangled further. Was he lying when he said he cared for you? Had everything that two of you had been a calculated act?
You shifted slightly, your breath hitching as you swallowed back the lump in your throat. His fingers, still ghosting over your back, stilled for just a moment before resuming their slow, deliberate movements. Did he know what you were thinking? Was he waiting for you to speak?
You wanted answers. You needed them. But at the same time, you feared them.
The quiet stretched between you both, thick with unspoken words. Eventually, you knew you had to be the one to break the silence. He probably expected you to drift off to sleep after the rigorous love-making, to let exhaustion override any lingering thoughts. Maybe he wanted you to be too spent to question him, too vulnerable to resist whatever control he had over you.
But you weren’t about to let that happen.
You lay still for a moment, staring at the wall, gathering your thoughts. There were too many questions, too many emotions swirling inside you, but you needed to start somewhere. Pushing aside the heaviness in your chest, you finally spoke.
“This is the second time you did this.”
His fingers, still idly tracing patterns along your skin, stopped. You felt him glance at you, questioning, but you kept your gaze fixed on the wall ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes just yet.
“You tried to divert my attention from anything shady you did,” you continued, your voice quiet. “First was during the Mingle game when you kissed me after killing Min-jae. And now… now this is the second time.”
Silence again. A heavier one this time. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, like a presence pressing down against you even though he hadn’t moved. His breath was steady and measured, but you knew he was thinking. Calculating.
Finally, he exhaled slowly. “You think I’m trying to manipulate you?”
You let out a short, humorless laugh, still refusing to look at him. “Aren’t you?”
His fingers moved again, this time gliding up your arm as if trying to test the boundaries of your trust. “Back then, I was. I didn't want you to be frightened of me.”
“Then what about now?” you inquired, turning your head slightly and finally locking eyes with him. The intensity of his stare made your breath hitch, but you refused to back down.
He stared at you quietly for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips contrasted with the cool air around you, sending a shiver down your spine.
When he pulled away, his voice was low but steady. “I miss you. You ran away and hid from me. I was worried. But now that you’re here, I’m glad.”
His words wrapped around you, heavy with emotion and something unspoken, something deeper. His tone was firm, yet there was an edge of vulnerability lurking beneath it – something he rarely let slip.
Your chest tightened, emotions warring inside you. The Young-il you knew – the one who had protected you, cared for you – still existed in those words, in that voice. But the Front Man, the orchestrator of these deadly games, was here too. And you didn’t know which one you were truly facing.
His fingers traced slow and random circles along your arm as he waited for you to respond. You swallowed hard, searching his face, but all you found was contradiction. A man who held power over life and death, yet who now lay beside you, speaking of protection as if it absolved him.
You averted your gaze, staring at the wall as your fingers curled against the sheets. Your voice was quiet but firm when you finally spoke. “So Young-il is not your real name?”
There was a pause as if he had expected this moment but still wasn’t quite ready for it. “No. My real name is Hwang In-ho.”
The name lingered between you, unfamiliar and yet deeply tied to the man beside you. You tried to process it, to match the name to the person you had come to know – the protector, the strategist, the liar.
“Why did you fake your name?” you turned your head slightly, enough to see the flicker of something in his eyes. Hesitation? Guilt?
His jaw tightened before he answered. “I needed to keep an eye on player 456.”
Your brow furrowed. “Gi-hun?”
He responded, “He’s been outspoken about stopping the games. Long before he ever stepped foot in here, he tried to chase me and the recruiter down. He made his intentions clear. So I disguised myself as a player, changed my name, and befriended him. I needed to find out what else he was planning.”
You stared at him, trying to reconcile the man who had watched over you, who had risked his life for you, with the one who had spent days lying to everybody, especially you. “So... you disguised yourself and fooled everyone. What about me? Was I just a part to make you look normal?”
His brows furrowed as he gripped your shoulder tenderly. “No. You were never part of the plan.”
He exhaled slowly as if bracing himself for something. “I didn’t expect to care about you the way I do.”
Your stomach twisted at his confession, torn between believing him and shielding yourself from the betrayal you felt. You wanted to demand more answers, to know how much of what you shared had been real. But part of you already knew the answer – his touch, his protection, his lingering gazes. Those couldn’t have been faked.
But that wasn’t the important thing. Your relationship with him, whatever it was, couldn’t matter more than the lives at stake – the players who were trapped in these games, fighting to survive. His games. The ones he managed, orchestrated, and upheld with unwavering authority.
You rose from his chest and sat up. In-ho stayed lying down but his gaze was locked with yours. You slightly turned your upper body to look at him and started, “So, what happens now? Do I pretend I don’t know any of this? Do I pretend that you're not the one pulling the strings? That you aren’t the reason so many people have died?”
His expression darkened, but not in anger. In resignation. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Is it?” you scoffed. “People are dying. And you—”
You clenched the sheets between your fingers, struggling to keep your voice steady. “You’re standing here like you have no choice. But you do.”
He exhaled sharply. “You don’t understand what’s at play here.”
“Then make me understand,” you challenged, finally turning to face him fully. “Make me understand why you’re doing this. Why you’re still here. Why you let me believe—”
He ran a hand down his face, the weight of your words pressing on him. “Because it’s not as simple as walking away. The moment I put on this mask and stepped into this role, I have a duty.”
You felt your stomach turn. “So you’re just going to let this continue? Let more people die? Let our friends die?”
His silence was deafening.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before fixing him with a hard stare. “And what about them? Jun-hee, Yong-sik and his mother, Dae-ho, Jung-bae... even Gi-hun. Do you feel nothing for them? For what they're going through? They trusted you. Gi-hun trusted you as a friend. That mother prayed for your return. Do you not care that they’re still trapped in these games?”
His gaze flickered with something unreadable. “It’s not that simple.”
You sighed. “That’s all you ever say. But people are dying, and you’re letting it happen. You’re the one in charge. You could stop this.”
He exhaled through his nose, his voice quieter this time. “I don’t have the power you think I do.”
“Then who does?” you challenged. “The investors? The VIPs?”
Young-il’s gaze sharpened, something shifting behind his eyes as if realization had just struck him. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly before asking, “I assume you find out about VIPs from following me as a manager hours ago, but I don’t recall mentioning about their investment. Who told you?”
Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his question pressed down on you. He studied your face closely as if searching for any cracks in your composure.
Then, his voice dipped lower, more controlled, more knowing. “I know you have friends among my guards. Who are they?”
Silence stretched between you. The air felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. You refused to answer, your mind racing through the consequences. You couldn't betray them. 011 and Gyeong-seok had risked so much for you already. The least you could do was protect them now.
You took a slow breath, steadying yourself. “Why does it matter? I watched you as a manager. I found out a lot of things. It’s obvious.”
Young-il’s expression darkened, his posture stiffening. “That’s not an answer. Someone among my guards helped you with your disguise.”
You forced yourself to hold your ground, refusing to give him anything more. His grip on control was absolute, but you could see the slightest shift in his demeanor. He didn’t like that you had access to information you shouldn’t have. That much was clear.
“I don’t owe you an answer,” you finally said, voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “Not when you’ve been lying to me from the start.”
Young-il’s jaw tightened, his gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, you thought he might press further, demand the truth from you. But instead, he exhaled slowly, composing himself.
“You should be careful,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Knowing too much in this place is never a good thing.”
His words weren’t a threat. Not exactly. But the warning was clear.
Still, your mind was far from settled. The conversation had left you feeling hollow. It seemed like your words failed to break through the walls In-ho had built around himself. Frustration curled in your chest, mingling with the lingering sensations of your shared intimacy.
You shifted, inching yourself to the side of the bed. Immediately, you heard a movement behind you.
“Where are you going?” In-ho asked. His voice, usually composed, carried a note of urgency.
“Out of here,” you muttered, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.
You couldn't stay. Not after everything. Not after learning the truth. You couldn’t believe you had laid with a man who orchestrated so much suffering, who played god over the lives of others. The thought made your stomach twist.
A dull ache flared in your limbs, a deep soreness from the way he had taken you – rough, passionate, desperate. But you ignored it, steeling yourself as you planted your feet flat on the cold floor by the side of the bed.
“Don't,” said the man behind you as the mattress shifted. His voice was softer this time. “Just stay here for the night.”
You didn’t respond. You braced yourself and rose from the bed, but the moment your weight shifted, your legs wobbled beneath you. A sharp exhale escaped your lips as you stumbled, barely managing to catch yourself before you plopped back on the bed.
Before you could make another attempt, an arm looped around your waist, firm but gentle. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you.
“You're not going anywhere,” In-ho murmured as he pulled you back onto the bed.
You tried to push him away, but your body betrayed you, still too weak to resist properly. He took the opportunity to bring you back to the center of the bed and away from the side. His grip was solid as his lips pressed against the back of your neck.
“Stay,” he whispered between kisses, his lips trailing down the curve of your shoulder. “I may have led this hell myself, but I will be the one to keep you from burning.”
You closed your eyes, torn between the storm inside you and the undeniable pull of his touch.

SFW ver. : Chapter 17.1
NEXT : Chapter 18.2
PREV : Chapter 16
Story Masterlist

I apologize for the late update because I got sick and is still very much sick. I got the triple combo one (fever, runny nose, and coughing fit) and I tried to continue writing but then it turned out it was a quartet combo, with the additional one being a headache. So now I'm a bit better so I could function better. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones! It motivates me a lot! What do you think about Hwang In-ho's flashback and his view towards everything? Is it so him? Is he OOC? What do you think about his view towards you? Remember, this is a slow burn fic. Anyway, I decide to split his P.O.V. into multiple parts so I hope it would keep readers guessing about his true intention with her and his feelings towards her. Of course, you are more than welcome to re-read and form a guess about what he really feels. Anyway, what do you think about the smut/sex scene/NSFW scene???? That's the moment you've all been waiting for???? Do you really think In-ho will stop just with one round, though????? Now, what do you think about your conversation with In-ho at the end? Do you think it's so him? Is he OOC? What do you think about the "you", though? What do you think she will do afterward now that In-ho finally have her? I really want to know your reaction on this! Anyway, thank you very much for giving my story a chance. I love reading and re-reading all of your comments!
Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.
#hwang in ho#hwang in ho x reader#hwang in ho fanfic#in ho#the front man#player 001#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game s2#front man x reader#front man x you
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Burning Bridges
Jennifer Check x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Notes: Requested, angst ig but not really, mentions of homophobia, smut, face-sitting, fingering, positive ending
Summary: Jennifer is your ex-best but after hearing she went into the woods with Low Shoulder after a fire broke out, you go after her.
An: Another Jennifer Check request in the books hope you enjoy it, request are open but I have a few to get through first.
Etc. Masterlist | More Jennifer Check
You hate Jennifer Check. You hate the sway in her hips, the soft glow of her skin, that stupid shiny lip gloss she wears. Girls like her are everything that is wrong with society. She got off on being some mean provocative bitch and you couldn't stand that.
You knew what kind of person Jennifer was because you used to be friends with her. Some would say best friends. However those days were behind you.
After you came out a lot of people turned on you, her being one of them. You couldn't handle the snarky comments or the looks of disgust.
When you fell out with Jennifer, you would've thought that you wronged her. The way she acted as if you were the one that betrayed her.
In truth, you believed that her ego couldn’t fathom the idea of being dropped. She was the one that was supposed to cut people off, not the other way around.
Any opportunity she had to get under your skin she took it. She wanted to see you squirm. Yet you were used to her actions, and though they really did bother you, you’d never let her see you sweat.
That's exactly how you ended up in some lame bar in Devils Kettle. Jennifer had tried to intimidate you into not going, which meant you simply had to be there.
You had heard Low Shoulder was going to be there, but you didn't really like their music that much. It seemed like every other person in your school did, as they were all packed into the place.
“What kind of loser shows up to an event alone? No friends, no date, how sad.”
You already know it's her by the tone. You roll your eyes, “What kind of loser shows up to an event with someone just be preoccupied in another person’s business? It’s pathetic really.”
She huffs, “You know all about being pathetic, don’t you?”
“Sure do, I got to see it up close and personal during our friendship,” your words make her storm off into the crowd.
“Would you just be her friend again, please,” Needy’s choice to stay behind was not at all surprising to you.
“Needy, why would I do that?”
She let out an exasperated sigh, “Because she misses you and you miss her. You guys have been going at it like a married couple since you stopped hanging out.”
“Divorced couple is more like it.”
She shakes her head, “No, it’s not; because all she talks about is you and I’m sure she’s always on your mind.”
Your eyes find her in the crowd. She’s playing it up to some band member on stage. The way her body moves makes something tingle beneath your skin.
“She seems just fine to me, Needy.”
The blonde gives up and joins Jennifer in dancing to the music. You on the other hand zone out, people watching the crowd. It’s not until someone yells fire that you snap out of it.
Soon the people that were dancing, become panicked. They begin screaming, pushing and shoving. You end up getting out of the bar fairly quickly. When you do, you end up stumbling into Needy.
“Where’s Jennifer?” You asks the other girl, searching the crowd.
“S-she went off with the band. I tried to stop her, but-”
Your anxiety doesn’t lessen with that knowledge. It’s not your business, she’s not your friend anymore, but it doesn’t sit right with you.
“Which way did they go?”
Needy points to the forest and you shake your head. You mumble profanities under your breath taking out your pocket knife, as you walk into the dark forest. You listen for sounds and follow what you believe to be a dim light. Something warns you against calling her name, so you don’t.
You hate the woods and the dark and Jennifer. Part of you could not believe that you were doing this. Jennifer is a big girl, if she wanted to go into a creepy creak, with a bunch of weirdos, then that was her business. However, you also knew it was wrong. If you knew about it and anything happened to her, you’d feel like shit.
Maybe Needy was right earlier in the bar, you should just make up. Knowing that you could’ve been burnt to crisp hating someone who you used to call your best friend, didn’t sit right with you.
You squint your eyes as you come across a dim light. There you see the members of the band all encroaching on Jennifer, who was on the ground. She was slowly moving away from them, but there wasn’t anywhere for her to go.
“HEY, GET AWAY FROM HER!”
The boys that were looking at her, turn their attention to you.
“Why don’t you just go on and mind your business,” one of them brandishes a knife.
You point your own knife at them, “I don’t think I will. Jen, come on. I already told Needy I was coming to get you, if we don't come back, she’ll just get the firefighters to come look for us.”
You keep looking at the men while your hand is extended to Jennifer.
“She’s bluffing,” one of the members looks at the front man.
“Are you going to take that chance?”
Jennifer carefully stands and grabs your hand. You pull her into you. You keep the knife pointed at the men as you slowly back away. Once you’re far enough you sprint the rest of the way out the forest, dragging Jennifer along with you.
When the bar is back into your view, you hunch over and place your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.
“Oh my god, are you guys, ok?” Needy runs up to both of you.
You look over at Jennifer to find her already looking at you, “I want to go home.”
Needy tries to get clarification from you, but you shake your head, “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Y/n.” Jennifer’s voice is small when she speaks, “Take me home, please.”
You’re partially shocked, but you hide it behind a few nods, “Ok.”
The three of you walk back to where you had your cars parked. You tell a quick goodbye to Needy before getting in the driver’s seat of your car. Jennifer climbs wordlessly into the passenger seat.
When you arrive at her house she stays in her place. You give it a few minutes before saying something, “Jennifer, we’re here.”
“My parents aren’t home. Do you- could you come in?”
Your seatbelt is off before she finishes the sentence, “Of course.”
You follow her into her home and up to her room. You stand awkwardly, it feels like a foreign space even though you've been in there before.
“So...”
“I know you hate me, but thank you for saving me anyway.”
You sigh, “You hated me first, Jen. After I came out you didn't really fuck with me.”
“That’s not true,” she rebuts.
“You looked at me differently and I heard you talking shit about me,” you tell her.
“You’re an idiot,” she says getting closer to you.
Your brow furrows in confusion. Her arms link behind your neck and it has you blushing brightly.
“What're you doing?”
She looks at you through her eyelashes, “Yes, I was looking at you differently after. As for talking shit, all I did was defend you from some homophobic assholes.”
“Defending me?”
“Yeah, defending you, doofus. You aren’t the only girl in school that like girls.”
“Oh.”
Her fingers play with the hairs at the back of your neck.
“Oh.”
“Are the dots connecting?”
You are still in disbelief, “You like me?”
Instead of answering she kisses you. Your hands are delicate as the hover over her hips. It’s soft at first, but naturally things pick up.
She pulls you over to the bed, straddling you with ease. As you make out her hand travels into your pants. You jerk your hips upwards at her touch.
She breaks the kiss, but only to put her fingers in her mouth. You watch as she sucks them eyes hooded, “I like you a lot.”
She slips her shirt over her head, which encourages you to do the same. From your position on your back, you let your hands climb up to her breasts, squeezing them.
She moans and grinds down in your lap. You need more and she is going to let you have whatever you need.
“I- I want you to sit on my face,” you say out of breath.
“Are you su-”
“Now, please,” you beg.
She stands to quickly strip off the rest of her clothes. When she climbs back onto the bed her thighs are resting on either side of your head. Your mouth salivates at the sight of her sticky cunt.
She doesn’t put her full weight on you at first. Your arms wrap around her thighs, making sure she is fully seated before you lap her up. Your tongue is pliant as it moves through the folds, eager to taste her.
“Oh shit,” Jennifer braces her hands on her headboards as you devour her.
You hum ever so often finding yourself addicted to her taste. Your tongue pokes at her entrance which elicits some loud whines from her. The sound was nothing in comparison to when your lips wrap around her clit sucking as though you were trying to get an ice cube through a straw.
Her hips begin rock on your face as she chases her orgasm. She free one hand from the headboard just to hold your face closer to her cunt.
“Fuck, you make me feel so good. I love your tongue. I love your tongue. Letting me ride your face, god I missed you Y/n. Don’t ever leave me, fuck don’t ever leave. Who’s going to make me cum like a desperate little whore, if you don’t.”
Her words only spur you on. Though you feel yourself gave to adjust your breathing you don’t stop. You give her ass a few smacks which has her shuddering against your face. With a final needy taste of her clit she falls apart on your face.
She rises off your face only to connect your lips. Her hand finds it original place in your pants.
“You’re soaked babe, let me help you.”
You nod desperately, not trusting your words at the moment.
She begins to slide your pants down and you raise your hips to help her, pulling your underwear off in the underwear.
She comes up to kiss you while her fingers play your folds. You whine into the kiss. “Please,” it’s a whisper against her lips.
“It’s hot when you beg,” she says easing two fingers into you. She watches as your face contorts with pleasure as she slowly pumps into you.
She pulls them out causing you to whine again,” come here.”
She readjust so that she is behind you and you are leaning back into her arms. She pushes her finger back inside of you with a slightly faster pace. Your eyes close as you work on not leaning back fully against the girl.
“Look at yourself, baby.”
Your eyes open and you moan at the image. You can see her fucking you in the vanity mirror. The way her head leans over your shoulder to watch as she thrusts her fingers into you faster by the second.
“I love the way you sound, baby. Such a messy wet hole for me. Cum on my fingers so I can shove them in that pretty mouth. Want you to taste yourself. See how sweet you are, how my fingers make your pussy taste. So sweet for me.”
Her words send you over the edge and if weren’t for her arm keeping you in place, you would’ve sprung out of her grip. You feel your chest heaving as you finally lean back against Jennifer. She brings you down, before removed her fingers from your cunt.
She kisses your shoulder, eyes locked on the image in the mirror. Her fingers make their way to your mouth and take them gingerly. Your eyes open to watch your reflection as you suck them off.
Once you’re done with her fingers, she tilts your head towards her to kiss you. Her tongue travels your mouth, eager to taste. The kiss de-escalates unlike the first one. By the end of it she’s pecking your lips sweetly.
She tightens her grip on your torso.
“You’re my girl now.” She pauses, “If that’s something you want.”
You interlock your finger with hers, bringing her hand up to place a soft kiss on it. “I’d like that.”
After your post-sex shower, Jennifer found herself laying in your arms. Her head on your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat. The girl she had been crushing on for the longest, the girl that saved her life, her best friend.
#lowkeyerror#lowkeyanswers#lowkeyasks#jennifer check#jennifer check imagine#jennifer check x reader#needy lesnicki#lowkeyrequest
318 notes
·
View notes
Text
Transferrable Skills Part 4
Transferrable Skills Masterlist
CW: POV depiction of anxiety and dissociation, How It's Made, reader character wearing a wig (positive, protective style), Soap (nosy), mention of sex toys, Simon Riley Is Honesty Just A Big Guy (TM),
Simon and Price are gone for less than a minute before you feel awkward. You’re almost done with the water, so you look around for the TV remote. It’s Gaz, absurdly pretty for some kind of international British SWAT team, who hands it to you with a half smile before wandering off, you assume to the bathroom.
That leaves you clicking through the TV while Soap does something on his phone. All of the local channels are in German, you know, so you look for something to stream. You chance a sidelong glance at Soap, but he’s already looking at you. He grins when you make eye contact.
“So yer LT’s girl, then?”
Fuck, that’s not a question you know how to answer. “Um.”
“Leave it, Soap,” Gaz says, returning from the bathroom. He smiles at you as he pockets his phone. “You don’t have to tell us anything you’re not comfortable with. Lieutenant Riley’s a private person, we understand.”
“That’s… it’s okay.” You tap into the PictureTime channel, since it’s not one you usually have access to. As you browse through the educational options - ooh, How It’s Built! - you say, “I think we’re both… a bit surprised to see each other here.”
“I can’t imagine,” Gaz says, sitting down at the other end of the couch. “Oh, I’ve not seen this one on puzzles and cheesecake.”
You tap into it, because you like puzzles, cheesecake, candles, and paintbrushes. Just in time to finish your water bottle. The armchair is a bit narrow and awkward, so you wiggle the cushion from behind your back so you can plop it, and yourself, onto the ground. You shuffle your legs to start your warm up as the theme song plays.
“How'd'ye come to answerin’ LT like yer military?” Soap asks. “’Acknowledge’, ‘acknowledged’, all o’ that?”
“Oh,” you answer, without thinking about it. “That’s just our protocol, to make sure I understand his directions.”
“’E’s givin’ you enough directions to need protocols?” He gives you a considering once-over. “Interestin’. Impressive that it held up in an emergency. That takes practice.”
Shit. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“’S he your, what’er they called? Dominant partner, then?”
God, Simon, why didn’t you take this one with you? “I’m… not at liberty to say?”
“Leave her alone, Soap,” Gaz says, exasperated. He tosses a throw pillow at Soap’s head. “She’s in shock, Simon’s trying to keep her calm and comfortable.”
“Ghostie adopts a civilian an’ ah’m supposed to have nae questions?” Soap grins at you. “She’s got a signal if she dinnae want to talk. Four fingers, right?”
“Bother Ghost about it, later,” Gaz says. He turns to you. “Do you know what you want to eat? There’s a few places open.”
Soap doesn’t pester you, after that. The three of you settle on Mediterranean food, and then they summarily leave you alone. Gaz seems content to watch the show, though Soap watches you do your floor stretches curiously.
You could probably have moved to another stretch a while ago, but you’re still in your work slacks and blouse. You think longingly of the yoga pants you laid out on your bed before leaving for meetings. And then you cringe to think of Simon coming in to sweep through the room and pack up all of your things. You hadn’t packed a lot, but you’d unpacked into the space to make yourself comfortable.
You realize that your sex toy is charging in the bedside table and cringe. You hope he doesn’t notice it. It’s good quality, but you can always buy another one.
And then you start to worry about your phone. You’d left your personal in the room because of the time zone change slowing down all of your personal messages. You’d lost your work phone and computer today with… everything that happened. Were people trying to get a hold of you? Had news of the incident made it to the US? Would Simon see your embarrassing phone background?
You resist the urge to get up and pace. Instead, you settle into butterflying your legs.
“You need more water?” Gaz’s voice startles you, but you nod and he passes a bottle to you on the floor. “Cap says that they’re done with the official stuff, he’s grabbing food while Ghost grabs your things. Probably less than an hour before they get back.”
Your anxiety shouts that that isn’t enough time. But since you can’t definitively answer the question For what?, you take a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.”
Maybe it’s because your heart is beating a little faster, muscles a bit warmer, but you have trouble settling Into the show. Your mind races. You have to remind yourself to relax, then have to clamber to your feet and shuffle off to the bathroom because you relaxed your pelvic floor a little too much.
Your eyes in the mirror are a little too wide. The wig - every time you wear a good one, you almost forget you’re wearing it - is holding up admirably, at least. It feathers around your face, a bit squished where you slept on it. But with the smudged eyeliner and mascara you can kind of pretend you’re in an action movie.
Thank goodness agent Ghost rescued me and the other hostages, you think to yourself, pouting your lips dramatically as you wash your hands.
The last time you washed your hands there was a dead body on the floor.
“Nope,” you say aloud, practically flinging yourself into the bedroom. “Nope. Nope.”
You pace in a tight circle, kicking the door closed when you catch Gaz and Soap looking at you with concerned eyes. Two circuits later, the room is too small, so you open the door again and shuffle out to sit in the armchair again, one leg pulled up for you to wrap your arms around.
Throwing your mind into action shots of specialty machinery, you try to force yourself to settle. Your whole body feels like it will shake apart if you pay too much attention to it, so you don’t pay it any attention at all. The episode ends and rolls into the next one, so you learn about bird cages and automated pharmacy drones. You hear Gaz say something soft, and Soap answers, the burr of his voice just as quiet, mixing pleasantly with the murmur of the narrator.
You must lose time, again, because the next thing you know, Simon is crouching in front of you again. Big hands smooth over your arms, and he shushes you as you jump.
“Got y’r stuff,” he says. “Where’s your head at?”
You open your mouth, close it. Hold up four fingers.
“Mm, day’s catchin’ up, again. Go into the bedroom, get changed. No zippers or clasps. Buttons okay. Acknowledge.”
“Bedroom, change clothes,” you confirm, heaving a big sigh. “Comfy. Acknowledged.”
He helps you stand, and you can’t help but tip forward to put your face into his chest. He smells a little. Like stale sweat and gunpowder. His arms stop yours when they come up for an automatic hug.
“Go change,” he whispers into the top of your head, “An’ I’ll get rid of the rest of ‘em, eh?”
The haze around you pops. That’s the only way to describe it. One minute, everything is distantly fuzzy, and the next thing you know you can feel the circulation of the air in the room and his heartbeat against your forehead. The TV is quieter, and you can hear Price and Gaz and Soap talking between themselves.
“Acknowledged,” you say into his sternum. “Gotta go change.”
He has to gently guide you around his bulk. But eventually you shuffle back into the bedroom. Your suitcase is waiting for you in the far corner, and it doesn’t take you long to dig out your lounge wear. Soft, thin pants with cartoon dogs on them and an oversized tee you got from a fundraiser. And then you take both off because that’s not sexy.
Why didn’t I pack nicer stuff? Can I play off these lacy panties as sleep wear? He saw it all and packed it, he probably clocked those as the only sexy thing I have. You shake your head at yourself. He said to wear something comfortable. He knows what you have. This is fine.
Your friend’s son’s basketball mascot grins up at you. You decide to compromise and switch the shirt for a black cami you usually wear under a nice blouse.
When you peek out of the room, Simon’s in the middle of the couch, and he’s blocked one end by dragging the table closer to where he’s sitting. His jeans have been traded for black sweats, but you can’t tell if his black shirt is new or not. Somehow, he looks bigger, but in a nice way. Softer. If a brick shit-house could look soft. A brick book nook.
“’Ey, pretty girl,” he says, leaning enough to put an arm across the back of the couch. “Come sit, we’re gonna eat and then we’re gonna talk.”
When you get close, you realize that there’s not enough room for both of you to sit unless you’re half on top of him.
You want to throw yourself entirely into his lap. But you can smell the food now, and you’re so hungry. So you perch as much of your ass on the couch as you can and swing your legs over one of his. You meet his eyes just as his arm comes down across your thighs. His hand cups the outside of your leg in a way that makes you remember what he said.
He’s not letting you go, now.
#transferrable skills#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction#kink fics#manic pixie dream ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#the fact that this isn't smut yet is HILLARIOUS and KILLING ME#this was supposed to be a short fun romp#two maybe three chapters#Ha Ha Ha (in pain)
341 notes
·
View notes
Text
amateur | 18+



masterlist | series masterlist | info abt palestine | donate to gaza
pairing | college roommate! vi x innocent!reader
synopsis | in an attempt to break the tension your roommate suggests a little game of truth or dare that quickly turns humiliating.
warnings | 18+ mdni!! college roommate!vi, innocent!reader, humiliation, underage drinking, an excessive use of 'cupcake', temperature play, college au, dom!vi, sub!reader, possibly ooc vi?, fingering gone wrong, dubcon, foot stuff, a very minor amount of puppy play, panty play, boot worship, masturbation, toys, and hair pulling.
word count | 3.5k
a/n | ahh i'm really excited to be writing again and actually feel good about what i'm putting out!! thank you to @joeloverture for checking this over for me and being the reason i even watched arcane in the first place!! this fic is named after amateur by scene queen btw <3
Nobody expects to sleep with their roommate, and nobody expects to become their roommate's little plaything. When you met Vi you weren’t sure how you’d get along, she was confident and outspoken, you were quiet and reserved. The first week you hardly spoke, that was until she pulled out a brand new bottle of Absolut. She motioned for you to join her on the floor and set out a shot glass for each of you.
“I feel like I hardly know you, play a little game with me, Roomie,” Vi says as she leans back against her bed, her legs crossed over one another. You were both dressed in your pajamas, Vi in a black tank top and matching sweats, you in Hooters tank top and black shorts.
“What kind of game are we talking here?” You ask, mirroring her movements from before as you try to get comfortable on the rough carpeted floor.
“A little drinking game that I like to call truth, drink, or dare,” Vi smirks, setting the bottle of Absolut on the floor between the two of you. You stare it down nervously, the closest you’ve gotten to drinking is the one glass of champagne your parents allow you on New Years.
“Uhh…I-I don’t know. I’m not much of a drinker and is that a real game or-” Before you can finish your sentence Vi cuts you off.
“Yes, it’s a real game…I’ve played it before, alright? Why don’t you give it a few rounds and see how you feel, yeah?” Vi asks, trying her hardest to convince you to play. It’s been a long, very awkward week. You sigh and give in to your need to break the tension between the two of you.
“Okay,” You sigh, “Fuck it, I’ll play. Just don’t make me do something insane or I’m asking for a dorm switch,” You threaten half jokingly.
“Hell yeah, I can work with that. I guess I should explain the rules, it’s pretty much just truth or dare but if you feel like pussying out you take a shot,” Vi explains excitedly. This might be the happiest you’ve seen her all week. You’re still not entirely sure what her major is but anytime she comes back from class she looks bored out of her mind or simply annoyed that she has to go. The only time you’ve really seen her happy is when she comes back from boxing practice or the gym. You do have to admit that she looks pretty good all sweaty, it makes you just want to-
“Hey! You zoning out on me? Let’s start, cupcake,” Vi says, snapping her fingers in front of your face and literally snapping you out of your almost dirty thoughts about her. Your cheeks heat up at the nickname and you pray she can’t tell you’re blushing.
“Shit, sorry. Uh yeah, you can start,” You stumble over your words and half pray that she’ll ask you something outrageous so you have an excuse to take a shot, it might help your nerves.
“I usually let the guest start but if you insist. So, truth or dare?”
You sigh, taking 5 seconds to make up your mind about which to pick. “Uhh, truth.”
She chuckles, “Y’know I should’ve expected you’d pick the safe option. Hmm…I’ll start decently tame. Do you smoke?”
“Like cigarettes or-”
Vi laughs loud, “I’ll take that as a no. And no, I’m talking about weed.”
Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “S-Sorry…I grew up pretty sheltered I guess.”
“You could say that again, Cupcake.”
You hate how hot your cheeks get when she calls you that. You dig your fingers into the carpet, playing with the rough material to try and get yourself to chill the fuck out.
“I guess it’s my turn to ask, huh.” You look over at her side of the room hoping something will give you an idea. Her side of the room is covered in posters of bands you’ve never heard of. A cork board with a few pictures from back home sits above her small desk area. There's a girl with blue braids in a couple of the photos and another girl with darker blue hair in the others. You wonder who they are but until you get some alcohol in you it’s unlikely that you’ll ask. “So Vi, truth or dare?”
Vi smirks, “Why don’t you give me a dare, and make it good.”
You rack your brain for an idea, you haven’t played truth or dare since you were a kid so it’s more difficult than you had anticipated. “Uhh…show me the last thing you looked up.”
Vi rolls her eyes and opens up her phone, “Let me see here…if it’s porn I don’t want to hear any complaints. You asked to see this, Cupcake, just remember that.” Her phone screen illuminates her face as she opens up the safari app. She chuckles and hands her phone over to you to look. Your eyes scan the screen and you sigh with relief. Her last search was ‘Magihjy’ underneath the search bar in blue reads ‘maglight.’ You can’t help but laugh.
“How the hell did Google even know what you were trying to say? And what do you even need a maglight for?” You question.
“Me and Google have a relationship you couldn’t even begin to understand,” She jokes. “And for the maglight, I’ve heard it’s good to keep on you for self defense. My punches and some metal could do some pretty good damage. You also never know when you’ll need a flashlight so…y’know,” Vi explains.
“Huh, good point.”
“My turn again roomie, truth or dare?” Vi asks.
You decide to be a little riskier this round, “Dare.”
Vi smiles, “Thought it would take a lot longer to get you to pick dare. I dare you to…put ice in your panties.” You wish you could wipe the shit eating grin off her face after she says that.
“Seriously, Vi? That’s so childish!” You exclaim, you really don’t want to do it but you also don’t want to break and take the first shot.
“You could always take a shot instead…” She teases, holding the bottle out to you.
You weigh your options and decide it’s better to just do the dare, you don’t want to look weak over some ice, “Fine.” You get up from your seated position on the floor and walk over to your shared mini fridge where a cup of ice you had gotten only about 30 minutes ago is sitting. You sigh and pick up the cup, “At least watch if you’re gonna make me do this,” You groan.
“Nobodies making you do anything, but if you want an audience so bad I’ll indulge you.” Vi turns to face you as you scrunch up your face in annoyance. You pull your shorts and underwear away from your body and begrudgingly pour a bit of the ice into your pretty pink panties. You yelp as you feel the ice against your skin and Vi laughs at how you squirm uncomfortably.
“How long do I have to keep this in?” You whine, hating how the ice feels against your skin. It’s starting to melt a bit against the warmth of your skin. You hate that it feels kind of…good against your clit.
“Hm until it melts sounds pretty good to me, let’s hope you last that long,” Vi smirks.
You shoot her a glare as you sit back down, shifting uncomfortably and trying your hardest to not let a little whimper slip out. “I’m so getting you back for this.”
“And I’m looking forward to it, cupcake.”
“Vi, truth or dare?” You ask, the annoyance clear in your voice. You catch her giggling at your discomfort and you shoot her a glare.
“Truth,” Vi says with a smirk.
“Tell me an embarrassing story, and I don’t mean some bullshit story about how you tripped in front of a crush. Give me something good. It’s the least you could do considering there’s ice actively melting in my underwear,” Your anger makes you ramble and all it does it make Vi laugh.
“Okay! Okay! Calm down, don’t get your panties in a twist,” She laughs. She leans back on her palms and looks up at the ceiling as she tries to recall an embarrassing story. She sighs and makes eye contact with you, “There was a girl back home I was dating for a bit. She was way more experienced than I was, I mean I was a fuckin’ virgin at the time. And she asks me to finger her,” Vi’s cheeks start to turn pink, “I hadn’t even tried to finger myself yet. But, I wanted to impress this pretty girl I had already spent an hour making out with and grinding on so I said I would. So there I am with her in my lap, pretty legs spread wide just for me. I’m doing good…at first. Massaging her clit, feeling up her tits just how she likes.” It takes everything in you to not whimper, your mind wanders to how you’d look on her lap with her hands between her thighs. You snap out of it as she continues her story. You do your best to look like you’re listening and not fantasizing.
“But as soon as it comes time for me to actually finger her it all goes downhill. My virgin fingers end up in the wrong hole, nothing kills the mood quicker than a finger to the urethra,” She laughs. She moves forward and pours herself a shot as you take in what she just said.
You try to choke out a question, shocked from her confession, “You really-”
Vi cuts you off. “Yep. Was that a good enough story for ya, cupcake?” She asks before she throws back the shot. Her face grimaces as it burns against her throat.
“Y-Yeah…why’d you take a shot? You told the truth,” You ask, cocking your head in confusion.
“Would you be able to tell a story like that and not have a shot after?” Vi teases, leaning back against her bed.
“Probably not,” you chuckle.
“So, truth or dare?” Vi asks. She sounds confident and that scares you, you know whatever’s coming next will be just as humiliating as the story you made her tell.
“Truth!” You answer a little too quickly and a little too loudly which makes Vi laugh.
“You scared or somethin’?”
“N-No, I don’t have a reason to be scared. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay then…tell me something, roomie. You seemed awfully squirmy when I was telling you that story, and don’t bullshit me and tell me it’s just the ice in your panties. I have two questions for you.” You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off with a glare and a pointed finger, “Ah, don’t tell me I can’t ask two questions when I just told you about the time I accidentally fingered someone's urethra, I earned these two questions.” You can’t really argue with that logic so you sit back and let her proceed.
“First question for ya, are you a virgin?” There’s a smugness in her voice as if she already knows the answer, and you’re sure she does. She runs her tongue over her teeth and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“Uh…yeah, I am,” you answer softly, looking down at your lap.
“I should’ve known, squirmy little thing like you could barely handle hearing the word clit. Anyway, follow up question. Are you into women?”
You’re a bit shocked by her question, you didn’t expect her to come right out and ask it like that, “Yeah…I-I haven’t done anything with a woman besides kiss though. That was years ago anyway…”
“Do you know how insane it is to me that you got no action in high school? I mean…look at you, you’re hot, cupcake,” Vi rambles, motioning to your body. Your immediate reaction is to hide your face, you look down at the ground and let your hair fall over your face as you feel your cheeks heat up once again. You mumble a soft, “Thanks…” and let silence fall over the room.
Vi scoots forward a little and smirks as she nudges you with her foot, “Go on, it’s your turn again.”
“Truth or dare, Vi?”
She smiles, “Truth.”
After her last couple comments you decide to get a little more bold, “How many people have you slept with?”
Vi holds out her hand and starts counting on her fingers, she gets to 19 before she laughs, “I’m just fucking with ya. I’ve only been with three people. All back in high school. They all said I was great, if you were wondering.” Vi moves a little closer, her foot is leaning against your inner thigh, still a few inches below the hem of your shorts. Your breath catches in your throat.
“Did you top or?” You trail off.
“Sometimes, it depended on what we were both feeling. I like doing whatever will make my partner feel good,” Vi starts to rub her foot against your inner thigh as she continues, “I got pretty good at giving head and other things…do you need me to teach you a thing or two?”
“I-I-” You’re flustered, you don’t even know where to start. The feeling of her rubbing your inner thigh is nice but you want it higher up. You want her to touch you where you need it, where you’re practically pulsating. You finally get the courage to use your words, “Are you a good teacher?”
“The best,” she answers quickly, she moves closer and moves her foot up higher to your clothed cunt. She looks up at you, “As badly as I’d love to put you on your back and eat you out, why don’t we start with a different lesson, something a bit more simple.”
“But what if I want to get put on my back and eaten out?” You half joke.
“Respectfully, I think you’d come if I even breathed near your clit.”
You choke on air and start laughing, “Fair enough.”
Vi looks around the room, her eyes landing on her signature combat boots sitting by the door, “You wanna get off tonight I’m assuming?”
You nod, “Y-Yeah…I do.”
Vi smirks, “Stay sitting there for me.” She gets up from her spot on the floor and goes over to the door. She grabs her boots and slips them on, taking her sweet time lacing them up. She goes over to her nightstand next and grabs her mini wand. She sits on her bed and looks down at you, “Take off your shorts.”
You’re quick to comply, leaving yourself in a pair of grey panties and your Hooters tank top. You sit on the floor awaiting your next instructions from her. Submission comes natural to you, you want her to tell you what to do, you want to be good for her.
Vi motions for you to come over to her but as you get up to stand she shakes her head. “Crawl to me. C’mon puppy.” You whimper in response as you sink back down to your knees, you hang your head in embarrassment as you crawl over to Vi. You sit down in front of her boots and look up at her as you sit back on your knees.
“There’s my good girl,” Vi says, reaching down to caress your face. She slides her thumb against your bottom lip and uses it to pull your mouth open. She tilts your head up and leans down, “You’re gonna listen to me if you wanna get off tonight, got it?” You nod dumbly, ready to do whatever she says.
She smiles and pulls away from you, “Kiss my boots.” She leans back on the bed, resting on her palms and smirking down at you.
“Kiss your boots? Aren’t they dirty? I haven’t seen you clean them once this week.”
“Well it’s a good thing I have a good little puppy like you to get them clean for me, huh?” She mocks.
“Yes ma’am,” you answer bashfully, scooting yourself back before dipping your head down and kissing the tip of her boot. You look up at her for approval and feel your cheeks heat up as she smiles down at you. You kiss her boot all over before moving to the next one. Vi praises you as you do, “Good girl, giving my boots the love they deserve. Maybe they’ll give it back to you if you’re good enough. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Pretty little virgin getting her second kiss in such a pathetic way. Bet you’re soaked, huh?” You nod in response, continuing to kiss her boots like you were instructed. Once you feel you’ve kissed it enough you sit back on your knees and wait for your next command.
Vi looks down at her boots and looks back at you with an almost proud look on her face. “Would ya look at that, pretty girl got them sparkling for me…” Your cheeks heat up once again. She leans down and ruffles your hair as if she’s petting you, “Such a good girl for me. I think I owe you a reward, hm?” She teases.
“Please…I worked hard for it,” you plead. You stick out your bottom lip dramatically and give her puppy dog eyes.
“Oh how could I say no to a face like that,” she chuckles, “Go on mount my boot for me, puppy.”
She doesn’t have to tell you twice, you mount her left boot, you panty clad cunt pressed up against the leather. You wrap your arms around her leg, practically hugging it and look up at her as you start to slowly grind yourself against it. Vi reaches down and grabs your front waistband, she slowly wrenches it up, the fabric forcing itself between your lips in a humiliating yet pleasurable way. Vi holds her grip and nods for you to continue. You bite your lip and smile down at the ground as you grind your cunt against her, the worn out leather is much more pleasurable than you imagined it would be. The added friction of your panties being held taut by Vi makes it easy for you to soak right through that flimsy little pair.
“You’re doing so well, cupcake. C’mon be a good girl and let me hear how good you feel.” Vi grabs her mini wand and stuffs it into her panties, pressed against her clit. She turns it on and bites her lip to keep herself quiet.
You follow her orders, no longer holding back your whines and whimpers. “Shit, Vi, it feels so good,” you moan, letting your head fall back. You stop being ashamed of how you’re feeling, of what she’s doing to you. You let go and be vulnerable for her, just like she wants.
Vi pulls a bit on the waistband of your panties, matching your rhythm. She uses her other hand to keep her wand pressed against her clit. She’s squirming and whimpering on the bed while she helps get you off. You moan her name and continue making a mess of her boot and your panties. At the beginning of this week you would’ve never imagined this is how you’d end up. You squeeze around the fabric and let out a shaky breath, “God, Vi…ngh it’s so good…so fucking good.”
Vi smirks and pulls harder, practically bouncing you on her boot, “Tell me how good it feels, cupcake. Gonna make you ruin my boot and lick it back up all nice and clean. You wanna do that for me, don’t you? Wanna be a good little puppy for me, hm?”
“Yes, god! G-Gonna ruin your boots…gonna lick it up…gonna be s-so good for you,” you stutter. This feels so much better than when you’d hump your pillow and lazily play with your clit.
Vi keeps muttering praise, her eyelashes fluttering as she feels herself getting closer. She wrenches your waistband up even higher until it reaches your breasts and pushes her boot harder against your cunt, trying to get you to come. “Make a mess for me, c’mon sweet girl, make a mess for me,” she moans.
You can’t hold back anymore, falling forward against her leg and moaning her name, a string of curses leave your lips as you come against the fabric of your panties and the leather of her boots. You rest your head against her leg and take a minute to catch your breath. Vi suddenly lets out a high pitched whine and grips your hair as she rides out her orgasm, she whines your name along with some curses and praise for you. You feel her grip loosen and she lays back onto the bed. You slide yourself off her boot, smiling dumbly. “Want me to clean it up, Vi?” You ask softly.
She chuckles from the bed and gives you a thumbs up, “Have at it, cupcake.”
You lower your head back down to her boot and start licking up your come. You lick her boot till it’s clean and shiny. When you’re done you crawl up on the bed with Vi, laying next to her. Her hair is a mess and her cheeks are flushed, “Thank you for that,” you whisper. Vi smiles and pulls you into her, “Anytime, Cupcake.”
#vi arcane#vi arcane drabble#vi arcane imagine#arcane#vi x reader#vi x reader smut#arcane vi#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi arcane smut
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
I set Angel Free
All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying,
“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”
She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her.
So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did.
She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,
“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”
This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore.
This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing.
Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter.
Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped.
Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird.
I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day.
And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!
She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.
So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her.
But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.
Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her.
Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,
“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”
She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand.
“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.
“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.
“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains.
That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles.
“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.
“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.
“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”
“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.
The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.
My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.
I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake?
I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life.
Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.
“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”
She looked shocked.
“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly.
The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again.
She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most.
It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.
“I– I can’t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.
“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”
“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed.
“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”
After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air.
“It’s cold,” she said.
“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”
“I think… I like the cold.”
We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.
When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.
We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key.
Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain.
“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone.
And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.
Angel rose from the chair.
And rose. And rose.
Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air.
Then twelve.
Then thirty.
I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air.
It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.
When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky.
Then there was nothing.
#short story#original story#horror story#horror#dark fiction#surreal horror#psychological horror#dark fantasy#horror writing#creative writing#storytelling#Angel#tw: ableism#tw: bullying#tw: murder#Casadastraphobia
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
CHECKMATE:
Chishiya x Reader
Requested: Chishiya plans to betray Arisu but she has changed.
Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t changed. Of course she had changed. They all had.
Borderlands was no walk in the park; it was not a place where innocence and honesty would flourish. Borderlands was about survival in its rawest and most brutal sense.
Chishiya had changed too. At least that’s what Y/N told herself as she watched him silently surveying his surroundings, assessing every person who might pose a potential threat. She missed the warmth of his embrace on cold nights and the whisper of his encouraging words in her ear when her only worry was passing her final exams. Sometimes she could even feel the echo of his touch when he brushed past her without acknowledging her presence. “It’s better if we don’t get associated,” he would say. And she believed him, as she always did, because after all, he was Chishiya.
But things didn’t take long to change.
It was a game night, a particularly intricate and demanding game. She felt conflicted discovering she was in the same group as her boyfriend. She had never played with him before, and she preferred it that way, but she couldn’t shake the sense of security and illusory calm that came from knowing he would be by her side. It turned out to be a game of tag, a Five of Clubs. Chishiya remained silent as the rules were explained, leaning against the wall with an enviable calmness. Y/N kept her distance, just as he had incessantly reminded her; it was better to maintain space in public places.
Once the game began, people started to run, racing through the building that was the stage for death that night, relentlessly searching for the safe zone behind one of the numerous doors leading to the top floor. She watched as Chishiya walked slowly toward the elevator. For some reason, seeing Aguni and his henchmen, who were also playing that night, vanish down the stairs prompted her to follow him. Once inside the elevator, and as the doors closed, Chishiya turned to her.
“Follow me if you want, but don’t talk to me.” He didn’t even look at her.
Y/N nodded, swallowing hard, feeling her heart constrict in her chest.
When the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened, he stepped out. With a bored stride and his hands in his pockets, he moved toward a secluded corner, a strategic position from which he could observe the entire field without risk of being caught off guard by the hunter. Y/N slowly approached him, keeping a respectful distance. She heard Chishiya huff in annoyance, and for a moment, she was tempted to leave. She had played many games alone and survived; this time didn’t have to be different. However, when the first shot echoed through the air, all those thoughts faded away.
Minutes passed, and people began to fall, with no sign of the safe room that had been mentioned in the rules.
“The bomb will explode,” she said, gripping the railing tightly as she tried to envision where the safe door could be.
Chishiya didn’t respond.
A fire ignited within her. She wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing while people died trying to find the safe zone; they were players too, and this was a game of teamwork. She glanced at the man one last time, trying to find something familiar in his eyes that would assure her the man she knew was still there, but he didn’t look at her. She felt something inside her finally give way and shatter, and with determined steps, more resolute than her own certainty, she rushed toward the stairs, bounding down two steps at a time. In her focus, she didn’t see Chishiya watching her with astonishment etched on his face and worry in his eyes.
“Ten minutes remaining,” announced the robotic voice of her phone.
Y/N felt her body collide with a hard surface.
“I’m sorry,” she heard.
It was a man she remembered seeing in the lobby during the wait for the game to start.
“It’s fine,” she replied. She found the strange conventionality of their conversation amusing in such an extreme situation.
“Have you found the safe zone?” he asked.
“N—no,” Y/N dared not tell him that she hadn’t moved from her spot during the ten minutes the game had been running.
“Come on!” he urged as he ran.
For some reason, her legs activated before her brain, and she began to chase after the boy who would later introduce himself as Arisu.
When it was all over, and the car was filled to take the few survivors back to The Beach, Y/N found herself reunited with Chishiya. He had stayed hidden for almost the entire duration of the game, only appearing at the end, when there were barely five minutes left before the bomb would explode. A fire coursed through her as she watched him walk with absolute calm, urging Arisu to open the door behind which another hunter was hiding.
If they were alive, it was thanks to Arisu—this was the conclusion she reached and clung to when, upon arriving at The Beach, Chishiya knocked on her door.
“What do you want?” she asked as she opened it.
“You were impulsive tonight,” he replied, his tone flat and his demeanor bored.
Y/N closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to let herself be swayed by the bitter feelings that had been bubbling within her since the start of the game, perhaps even for days, which she had kept at bay.
“I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She shut the door, leaving him bewildered outside.
The next day, Y/N made an effort to avoid Chishiya. She did the same the following day. And the next. This game of hide-and-seek lasted almost a week until, for better or worse, Kuina decided to intervene.
“Chishiya wants to talk to you,” she said, entering Y/N’s room without knocking and wrapping her arm around hers, pulling her eagerly toward the man’s room.
Y/N had no choice but to let herself be led by the woman, well aware that when Kuina got something in her head, it was impossible to dissuade her. For some reason, she had become Chishiya’s loyal companion, doing anything he asked of her. “My boyfriend…” she thought. She didn’t even know if they were still together.
Upon reaching the room, Kuina pushed the door open, shoving Y/N inside and closing it behind her. Now they were alone.
Y/N watched Chishiya from behind, seated at his desk, working on one of his strange devices. No one spoke for a few seconds; the metallic sound of the gadget being adjusted filled the room alongside her quickened breath.
“Your friend is at The Beach,” Chishiya finally broke the silence, still facing away from her.
This took Y/N by surprise.
“My friend?” she asked, genuine hesitation in her voice.
Silence fell again for a moment, during which Y/N decided it was better not to breathe.
“Arisu,” Chishiya said, finally turning around.
An unintelligible sound escaped her lips as she exhaled the air she had been holding. She looked at him. His stoic expression revealed nothing about what might be going through his mind at that moment, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. Y/N tried to find something in his eyes, in his gaze, that might indicate what he was thinking. It wasn’t necessary when he spoke again.
“I’m going to steal the cards, and Arisu is going to die.”
The girl didn’t know how those two ideas were connected, but a chill ran down her spine when she realized that whatever he was planning, whatever his goal was, Chishiya felt no remorse for that man’s life. Perhaps he felt no remorse for hers either, and that was where it shattered.
Y/N didn’t wait for him to continue speaking before turning on her heel and leaving the room, passing by Kuina, who had been leaning against the wall and startled at her sudden departure.
“Y/N!” Kuina called after her.
She ignored the call, swallowing her tears as she ran to her room. Finally, everything she had been holding deep in her heart, all those thoughts she had tried to banish from her mind over the past few days… all crumbled into tears that spilled from her eyes. She wouldn’t be his puppet; she wouldn’t be another victim of his deception, wouldn’t fall into the jaws of a man she could no longer recognize.
A few doors down, Chishiya was ushering a worried Kuina out of his room. He needed time to think, he told himself as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong. He knew precisely when things had begun to go awry, pinpointing it to the moment they both arrived in Borderlands. From that instant, his sole purpose had been to get them both out of that place and, until that was possible, to prioritize her safety, Y/N’s safety, and if that meant being cold and distant with her, impassive and indifferent in their interactions, so be it. But she clearly seemed incapable of seeing beyond his harsh actions; she didn’t understand that he did it for her own good, and that his only concern was for them to leave together. That’s why he was willing to risk the lives of the pawns on his chessboard, to sacrifice them without a second thought just to save the king and his queen—just to save her. It pained him when she looked at him with that distrust, that skepticism and disbelief… “As if I could ever betray her…” he scoffed as he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his forehead harshly.
It was going to be difficult to regain her trust, especially after that last glance filled with fear and disappointment that she had thrown at him before leaving her room.
Several days passed during which Chishiya’s plans were stalled. He decided not to make any moves until he was sure that his queen was still in the game, and for that, he had to use some of his intricate tricks.
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he said, on the terrace, staring into the horizon.
“I considered not coming,” she replied honestly, “but Arisu told me it was important.”
“It is,” he responded, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice. The last thing he wanted, after days of silence, was for her to mention another man.
He turned to look at her. He noticed she was pale with sunken eyes; she must not have been sleeping well. Not that Chishiya didn’t know; he had been keeping an eye on her from the shadows, aware that she had been visibly uncomfortable and agitated after his announcement about stealing the cards. However, what pleasantly surprised him was that she hadn’t said anything to anyone, not even to Kuina, whom he sent every day to try to talk to her.
“I think you didn’t understand me well the other night,” he continued, taking a step closer to her.
“You told me you would steal the cards and kill Arisu,” she replied sharply.
Chishiya chuckled softly.
“I said I would steal the cards and that Arisu would die,” he answered, smiling with smugness.
A perfectly constructed mask.
Y/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Seeing this, Chishiya stepped closer, still smiling, coming within inches of her. Y/N felt her breath catch at the sudden and unexpected movement from the white-haired boy. Chishiya lifted his arms and uncrossed hers, letting them drop to her sides. Seizing the newly established space between them, he took another step forward and grasped her hands.
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Y/N,” Chishiya whispered softly, so quietly that Y/N momentarily thought she had imagined it.
He cleared his throat and raised his gaze, meeting her bright, anxious eyes.
His mask began to falter.
“I want to get out of here, but I want us to do it together. If we don’t get out together, if we don’t go home together... nothing would make sense,” he continued, feeling his voice waver as he forced himself to utter words he never would have thought would be in his vocabulary. “Everything I do... I do it for you. I do it because I love you.” And that was the last straw.
The woman wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Chishiya felt the dampness start to soak through his shirt, and along with the small sobs escaping from her, he realized she was crying. He embraced her too, gently stroking her back, trying to soothe her in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t something he did often.
Neither of them spoke as the rain began to fall, soaking the terrace and disguising the tears that had begun to slide down Chishiya’s cheek. “To think I could have lost her...” he thought, allowing the rain to wash away any trace of his mask.
He had spent all this time worried that the girl would remain alive, that she wouldn’t be used against him if anyone discovered his feelings for her, that she would be safe. But he seemed to have forgotten that she was not just another piece in his chess game; she was not something he could move at will. No, Y/N was his queen. Y/N was the most important piece on the board, the piece for which it was worth continuing the game. She was everything; no plan or strategy made sense if, at the end of the day, he didn’t have her. But Chishiya was a clever man, smarter than most, and he knew this wouldn’t be the end.
He swallowed his tears with regret and understood that he would never be willing to change his plans. He would achieve his goal; he would get her out of that place even if it meant lying to her, deceiving her, betraying her, hurting her, and being the cause of her tears. Savoring that embrace, he held her tighter against his chest, trying to imprint the feeling of her arms around him in his mind. He would deceive her, betray her, and hurt her; he would hate himself for it, but she would survive. She would escape that place.
And when he finally won the game he was playing, when he toppled the king, he would have a good reason to make the final checkmate, and his queen could be free; she could be happy. Even if it was without him.
© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]
--
✨
#aib x reader#alice in borderland#niragi suguru#aib#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya x reader#fanfic#ao3#arisu ryohei#kuina hikari#shuntaro chishiya x reader#shuntaro chishiya#chishiya alice in borderland#niragi alice in borderland
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
In celebration of the Sylus banner releasing, here’s the first part to my Sylus fic!
Sylus x named!mc | Touch her and 💀 vibes | Possessive Sylus
Intended for 18+ readers, MINORS DNI
Read on Ao3
Part 2 | Part 3 (coming soon)
A Kitten and A Crow
His irritation was nearly palpable as negotiations dragged on and on. Sylus let his crimson gaze flick around the men sitting at the table around him, trying to bargain for their safety in his territory while they do some bogus business deal. Really, the whole thing was boring, and that itself is what irritated him the most.
His phone began to buzz in his pocket, which brought a welcomed distraction. A slight smirk played at the corner of his mouth as the name ‘kitten’ flashed across the screen as the incoming call. She always seemed to know when he was bored.
“Gentlemen, I am afraid we will have to continue these negotiations another time,” was all the explanation he gave before rising and walking from the table. He reached the other room, thumbing the answer button and holding the phone to his ear. Before he could even greet her, a scuffle sounded and the call disconnected.
“Mephisto,” was all he had to say before the crow flew through the window with a croaking call in the night. He tapped her name in the call log to dial her phone, pushing down the anxiety that threatened to crack the iron hold he had on his composure.
“Kitten?” He questioned when the call connected.
“S-Sy,” came her labored breathing. A pained whine escaped from her and he growled.
“Where are you?” His query came as a sharp demand, grateful that he had already sent Mephisto to find her.
“Sylus, d-don’t-“ her words ended in a cry as the sharp crack of flesh connecting with flesh came across the line. Rage pulsed through Sylus at the sound of a struggle, the phone being kicked away, before the line went dead.
The deep crimson-streaked shadows shrouded him without a second thought, transporting him to the rooftops for some sort of vantage point. He couldn’t feel her aether core anymore, the ever present hum that had become a source of comfort, but he somehow knew she was still within the N109 Zone. Within his territory.
There. A signal from Mephisto and the copper stench of fresh blood flooded his senses as he followed the crow’s direction in his signature shadowy cloak.
He arrived in the alleyway that Mephisto hovered over, mere blocks away from his own base. A man held her limp form by the throat, gloating to her unconscious figure.
“Once we get that Onychinus bastard out here, he’s done for!” Maniacal laughter followed his statement as he tossed her haphazardly to the side.
“Ah. So, you intended for a trap, then,” Sylus said with a deadly calm, dropping into the mouth of the alleyway from the cloud of darkness.
“Hah! It’s true! The hunter is your weakness after all,” said the man as he turned his wild gaze on the newcomer. Sylus didn’t recognize him, but figured the idiot must be from an opposing faction.
“Do you know what happens when you touch what is mine,” he said with a voice full of venom, striding into the alley. But the man only grinned, lifting a pistol to aim at Sylus. A threat that Sylus pointedly ignored as he continued forward.
Mephisto landed next to Helene, giving his observation. Bruised and battered, and a deep gash in her side that was cause for concern. She was alive, but didn’t have the luxury of time.
“Lets end this quickly,” Sylus said, disappearing into that crimson darkness and reappearing right before the man.
“Your evol is useless against me, crow,” the man cackled, aiming the pistol right for Sylus’ head. “I’ve been given a glorious chance to take down the biggest threat to our company. These bullets have been specially manufactured with your evol in mind.”
The man pulled the trigger, fully trusting that his employers had told him correct information. What they didn’t tell him, however, is the ethereal speed at with Sylus could use his evol. The bullet ripped through empty air while Sylus rematerialized behind him.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled into the man’s ear before an onyx blade appeared in his hand. His arm thrust forward. A strangled gurgle was the final sound the man made as Sylus plunged that blade into his heart from behind. He twisted it for good measure, lamenting that he couldn’t do what he really wanted to.
Sylus dropped to a knee by Helene’s side before the stranger’s corpse even hit the pavement. He brushed her blood-streaked hair from her frighteningly pale face before lifting her in his arms. It still amazed him how light she was, considering how much she ate at any given meal.
A vehicle pulled into the mouth of the alley, giving Sylus a brief pause before he realized it was his own car and the twins sat in the front.
Luke hopped out from the passenger seat and opened the door for him, Sylus carrying her frighteningly limp form forward. A hand reached out to help steady her as he shuffled into the back, but he felt a growl rumble in his chest and he clutched her tighter to himself. Luke backed off without a word, hands held up to placate the boss.
It had only taken minutes to find her, but each second that had ticked by since the call first disconnected felt like a lifetime.
#sylus qin#lads sylus#sylus x mc#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace fic#lnds fic#lads fic#sylus
134 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello , can i request a drabble wherein oc finds out that their husband politician Namjoon is having an affair with his secretary? like, oc found Namjoon was cheating when oc was watching the news and there are photos of the affair and a recorder phone call of the affair wherein the secretary was talking bad about the oc and Namjoon was just chuckling. thank u in advance ❣️
aaaa i'm excited to write this one, thank you for sending it in!
all eyes on you (knj)
pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: angst!! husband!namjoon x wife!reader, mayoral candidate!namjoon x housewife!reader. i imagine namjoon to be older than oc.
warnings: infidelity! oc will be trashed a little ok. you have been warned. the contents of this story quite literally replicate the anon's request. please don't read it if you find the topics offensive and/or unappealing. oh u guys r gonna hate me,,
The living room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the television in the background. You weren't really watching anything in particular--- just letting the flicker of images fill the empty silence around you.
You were perpetually tired.
Your mind wandered, lost in the routine of another evening spent waiting for your husband to return home from wherever he was.
It's not just this though. Namjoon had been distant lately, buried in meetings and late-night phone calls, but you had brushed it off as just part of his life as a politician.
This was the price of being married to a man like him, or so you'd tell yourself.
It was peak campaigning period. Namjoon was running for mayor. So it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to pull all-nighters.
Yet, you couldn't help but stay up for him anyway.
Unintentionally, you switch to a news channel.
Normally, you'd prefer to stay far away from anything to do with politics, as ironic as it sounds with you being married to such an ambitious politician. But, you yearned to feel closer to him, and the news channel his (and sometimes your) name(s) frequented on was the only way for you to satisfy this urge.
You sat on your luxurious yet cold, leather sofa and zoned out, staring into space.
And, oh, what a choice that was.
“Now in. Breaking news on mayoral candidate Mr. Kim Namjoon...”
Just like that, your attention snapped back to the screen when the news anchor mentioned your husband's name. Your heart skipped a beat or two.
In only a second, a thousand thoughts crossed your mind, hundreds of scenarios where he'd hurt himself, or been hurt, maybe his opponent backed out and he was pronounced mayor right this instant, maybe his opponent was hurt, or maybe he was advocating for yet another controversial decision.
Not even close.
What followed wasn’t about a new policy or a political scandal--- it was something way worse.
Photos. Of him. Your husband. Kim Namjoon. With her. His secretary. Bae Joohyun.
They weren’t just working. The pictures showed them at some dinner, leaning in close, laughing in a way that made your stomach churn.
They looked too comfortable, too familiar, as if this was second nature to them.
How cliché.
It felt like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, eager to swallow you up and wipe every trace of your existence.
It felt like time had stopped. The air around you was stagnant. You couldn't hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in your ear; until what the channel displayed next.
The screen transitioned to a recorded phone call.
You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you heard Joohyun's voice, dripping with smugness.
“I don’t know how she doesn’t see it. Honestly, it’s almost pathetic,” you hear the woman sneer. “She’s too busy playing the good housewife while you’re here with me. I mean, what does she even bring to the table? It's not like you don't have staff handling your home.”
You don't even have time to digest the attack on you because what came next completely shattered you.
Namjoon's laugh.
It wasn’t just a polite chuckle, not something he gave when uncomfortable. It was genuine, full of warmth--- the laugh you used to think was reserved just for you, not against you.
“She’s a bit clueless, isn’t she?” Your husband murmured, amusement clear in his voice.
The remote slipped from your hand and hit the ten thousand dollar carpet with a dull thud.
Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of it, but nothing could explain what you had just seen and heard. All you could think was a mix of 'Namjoon' 'he hates me' 'what went wrong?' 'how could he dare to do this?' 'Joohyun was so nice to me' and 'I want to lie down.'
The man you loved, and cherished, the man you trusted, had betrayed you. And worse, he had laughed at your expense, as if you were nothing more than a convenient joke?
You can't even begin to feel the humiliation of the news being broken to you by TV emission, because your husband's betrayal had struck you so hard, all your thoughts surrounded only him.
Yet another irony; the news of his betrayal was broken to you so publicly, yet you were so, so lonely.
You can feel your cheeks and ears heating. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you don't cry.
Not yet. You don't know why.
Instead, you continue to sit there, numb, as the rest of the world kept spinning around you.
The hours (two hours) blurred together as you sat in silence, staring at the news segment on repeat.
There was no new information. Just the commentators discussing your life. They had managed to dig into your and Namjoon's past. Then his secretary/mistress' as well.
Yeah, she had been promoted to 'Mr. Kim's mistress.'
They discussed, and agreed with Joohyun's take on you being a lousy wife to Namjoon. How Bae Joohyun is a better fit for him. Then another counter argument stating you were 'the perfect, submissive, wife material' for Namjoon.
They went into detail about Namjoon's past relationships, then moved on to scrutinizing every single interaction he had with a woman since your marriage being made public.
Then, they brought on more guest stars on the show to react to your husband's leaked voice recordings.
You felt hollow, with every heartbeat punctuated by that same mocking laugh playing in your head.
All your devices, phones, iPads, landlines, had been vibrating and ringing non-stop. You wonder if any of those are from Namjoon.
It wasn’t until the door clicked open and you heard Namjoon’s familiar, hurried footsteps that you finally snapped out of your daze. He was almost stomping the floor. Following close behind, you hear another unmistakable 'click-clack' of a pair of high heels.
Your husband stormed in, his tie slightly loosened, looking weary from another long day, along with his fucking secretary, who looks equally fatigued.
He tries to talk, “_____."
Instantly, you shoot him down, "Don't even." You stood up with false-fervour. Not wanting to hear from either of the traitors, you turn to rush to one of the guestrooms.
Before you turned, you caught Joohyun rolling her eyes, her lips pursed in annoyance.
The woman looked more irritated at being dragged into this mess than remorseful. That was the last straw.
You don't quite remember what happened next. You were suddenly so fired up. Your brows furrowed, and your tears had clouded your vision.
Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest thing--- your fluffy house slipper, and hurled it straight at the secretary’s head pulling a stupefying gasp out of your husband.
"What the fuck?!"
note: this hurt to write kinda until i made her throw a slipper at joohyuns head :( ofc this is also kinda raw and unedited bec (you know it) lazy.
do you guys want a follow-up?? perhaps a confrontation? you'll have to be vocal abt it if you do... so talk to me u clowns 😡
BTW i love bae joohyun, i just think she'd be a perfect villain for this story. smart, sexy, bitchy, and intimidating.
#drabble: all eyes on you#citrustan drabbles#namjoon x reader#namjoon fanfic#namjoon x oc#rm x reader#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#namjoon drabbles#namjoon scenario#kim namjoon x reader#kim namjoon fanfic#bts angst#husband namjoon#namjoon drabble#namjoon scenarios#namjoon x you#namjoon x yn#kim namjoon x you#kim namjoon x oc#namjoon x y/n#bts x reader#rm fic#rm fanfic#bts namjoon x reader#bts rm fic#kim namjoon angst#kim namjoon x y/n#bts married au#bts cheating au
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
BILLS BILLS BILLS !💸



tw— reader a pretty princess, reader is 26 and ino is 22, ino is rich somehow just by being nanami’s assistant don’t ask me!!,
synopsis— ino is the perfect boy for a girl like y/n.
congrats on 600 naj! @honeybleed . 90’s collab event
y/n’s worst trait was how forgiving she could be, even to the most heinous acts to her, her boyfriend now ex boyfriend took great advantage of that. It was sweet at first, him taking her to restaurants no matter how cheap they were but then it turned bitter sweet. Turning from him asking her for extra cash and even getting the audacity to even steal her credit card and use her car on his own whim. Once the breakup soon happened she had to ask the question, ‘where are all good men?’ This question even was on her mind as she was at the newest popular club with her girls.
When ranting to shoko and utahime on the Group FaceTime they took her to the new Blue Eagel club saying how there was a lot of eye candy at this joint. Y/n sipped the glass of pink Whitney she had as shoko and utahime had their usual Hennessy. Shoko smiled seeing the corners of y/n’s lips turned off.”whole lotta’ eye candy right? Get you outta that bummed out mood?” Y/n couldn’t help but make a chuckle come out her throat.”Mm… whole lot of male eye candy..”looking around the club she could see some now. a small group of tall of six men, there was about one that stuck out to her. She could’ve sworn she could see him staring at her from her small table. She was broken out her stare from how shoko and utahime made tipsy ‘ooo’ sound effects.
She rolled her eyes smiling at the two.”looks like our babe found her some skinny eye candy?” Utahime teased and it made y/n even scoff with a chuckle hidden in.”oh please.. I just got out a sticky ass breakup, what would I look like lusting over another scrawny man?” Shoko and utahime just raised their eyebrows up and down with a cat like smile.”ain’t that your type?” Shoko said in a teasing tone making y/n have a barely visible blush on her cheek.”Oh hush.. go on somewhere if y’all are just gonna tease me.” That was the invite for the two tipsy girls to make their way off to the dance floor.
Just as they left the man came closer to her table and she got a good look of him. He wasn’t very dolled up like the guys he came with. He was sporting just a normal black dress shirt, some grey slacks but had some generic lazy brown hair. He now stood right in front of her with a cheeky smile.”hey, don’t know how my buddies even do this kinda thing but.. saw ya staring at me across the room.” As soon as he said those words he wanted to cringe and turn pink when you rolled your eyes smiling.”room? We’re in a club. Don’t you mean across the dance floor?”
He played it off chuckling and scratching the back of his head.”I’m bad at catch lines what can I say? Can’t knock down a guy for trying.” Y/n liked his wit, she could tell he was obviously just a nervous boy but still very smooth with his comebacks. She took a sip of her pink Whitney.”mhm.. take a seat yes?” He listened to her taking a seat from across her at the small round table. Now that he was taking a close at her she was a gorgeous girl, with a beautiful dark straight haired brunette lace sat on her head perfectly when he looked at her face she had some light makeup on but her lips popped out with them lined and glossed up and even her outfit was pretty, with her wearing a light pink halter top and a pink mini skirt and chunky light pink chunky platform heels that matched her brown skin perfect. Everything about this girl was pretty to him
She noticed how he was zoning out just staring at her and snapped her fingers.”aye, eyes up here sir!” That made him blink and chuckle.”sorry bout that, can’t help but stare at a beautiful girl y’know?” That made her a bit bashful as she smiled at his cheesy lines. He could tell he was winning her over slowly.”instead of this awkward tension let me know something about the girl who was staring me down just from the dance floor.” She made a light chuckle tapping her fingers on the tables surface.”well, I just got out of weird breakup last night and now I’m here. That’s a small fact.” Ino could control the small damn he let out at that.”Ah shit, sorry that’s just a big bombshell.” She giggled at his reaction.”No no, my ex boyfriend was a bit of dick anyways.. He was always borrowing my car, money and nearly maxing my card out.”
That made ino’s brows raise.”what a way to treat a girl you love huh?” She hummed in response.”what can ya do though? Not much good boys in this town really..” Ino made a huff sound at that, the next thing he said he couldn’t even control out his mouth.”I would never do that to you.” It made y/n giggle to have a boy she barely even knew say this just 9 minutes into the conversation.”you barely know me boy, and yet you think you know what’s best for me hm?” She jokes a little which takes ino aback, everything she said made him fluster and think about the stupid words he said. He attempted to play off his words, still showing his boyish charm and overall confidence despite his blushing.”well I don’t know you well enough since I just met you well about some minutes ago but with how you stared at me across that floor and your body language maybe we can figure something out y’know?”
Before she could make another witty comment he continued.”You may look like you have more experience and a more rich taste but trust me, I could be that man for you. I could do the bill paying, the nice spa treatment and resorts. Just give me one chance.” That made y/n’s legs clench a bit, she still had some excuse up her sleeve.”you don’t even know my name.”
“Takuma ino, what’s yours?” He said it so quickly like he wasn’t taking no for a answer or any excuse. Y/n gave in seeing how determined this boy was.”l/n y/n.”
🎀 ᘏᘏ 🎀
In the 6 months y/n had gotten to know ino he kept his promise and word about treating her right. He definitely paid her bills and treated her to the best restaurants and clubs. It amazed her how he could just have this much money from being a assistant apparently. Throughout these months she started to date ino he showed a lot of chivalry for his age, there were some instances where his romance showed out.
He was very serious about paying her bills and expenses like she thought. Truthfully she thought it would just be some fun little three months she would be dating him till she was 4 months in and saw the effect. Even knowing how financially stable ino was she still hesitated asking him to pay for things, it was just her mentality when growing up poor. Ino had this mentality himself when he was younger, that’s how he picked her up on her habbit of always turning lights off and yelling at him across the room to make sure to turn the bathroom light off once he’s done in her bathroom, she even did this in his house without noticing.
When she was scolding him once again about turning the shower water and lights off more often he just hushed her with a finger on her lips.”babe babe, I can take care of all that dumb bill shit.” It stunned her a bit how he hushed her and he chuckled noticing.”I’m your rich new boyfriend did you forget?”
Another instance was him amazing her when taking her to a fresh new restaurant. It was foreign to her a little, as she looked at the fancy menu and the other customers around she felt a bit out of place even in the mini pink dress she had on. Ino could feel how uncomfortable she was, he had gone through the same feelings she did. Across the small table he put his hand on hers rubbing the back of her hand.”hey, enjoy yourself y’know? You deserve the best treatment. Can’t let ya leave out before you try the oxtails this place has.”
Ino was definitely trying to get her comfortable in his lifestyle and it was working slowly. Y/n didn’t even notice how she was wearing more tennis girl wear and going to a country club with him to meet some of his colleagues and friends.
He was showing he could be the boy to pay her bills and everything and more, before she even knew it.
#ino takuma x you#ino takuma x reader#takuma ino#ino x reader#ino takuma#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#𐂯 cinny’s works#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen ino
775 notes
·
View notes