#happy yuri day everyone...
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gunsatthaphan · 5 months ago
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happy marriage equality to my favorite brides and grooms 🏳️‍🌈🥹🫶🏻
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hoss-bonaventure · 6 months ago
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the lesbian yearning here was off the charts
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nonbinaryspy · 5 months ago
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Some f/f requests for the FE ArtScuffle!
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roserunodays · 6 months ago
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Hiii chapter 4 is here!
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morganali-art · 5 months ago
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*runs in a day late with half a cup of cold instant coffee* *hands you this wordlessly as I catch my breath* 😵‍👍
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royaltea000 · 5 months ago
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thoughts on pruk yuri?
I’ve literally drawn the male equivs scissoring so this is just a step UP!!
When I think about pruk yuri I’m just reminded of those weird tv shows that came on late night when I was a kid of busty half naked women wrestling in mud - I think they should do the same thing but on a bloody battlefield you know what I mean???
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0809sysblings · 11 months ago
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i think amane in therapy would be me in my counseling stint when i was like 9 where i refused to talk about anything relevant and became extremely attached to a stuffed animal in the office and literally all i did during the sessions was play with the stuffed animal and make it clothes and accessories and other things out of paper or whatever else was at my disposal there while the counselor desperately tried to get me to talk about my feelings.
idk i can just see her being like "nope, nothing to talk about. im fine! anyway i was thinking today i could make Nyanko a new skirt"
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lou-is-lurking · 1 year ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Otabek Altin/Jean-Jacques Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky Characters: Jean-Jacques Leroy, Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Mild Illness, Caretaking, Aggressive Caretaking - Yuri Style, Yuri Plisetsky Is A Little Shit, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, I wrote this for shits and giggles
Summary:
JJ has a cold. Everyone suffers.
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misscammiedawn · 5 months ago
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Today is Yuri Day in Japan and I wanna make sure everyone knows about She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Tsukutabe)
It's a cute lesbian romance between two women who share an apartment building with as the name implies one who loves to cook and one who loves to eat
The comic slowly dives into the main character Nomoto a food blogger who uses cooking as an unhealthy coping mechanism for stress discovering her sexuality (explicitly asexual lesbian) and struggling to feel like a "real" lesbian because of her asexuality--
The co-lead is a woman named Kasuga, a woman who left an abusive family who are trying to guilt her into coming home dealing with day-to-day prejudice against women with large appetites and supporting characters include a non-binary coded (potentially confirmed by this point in the original-- I'm on the official translation) neighbor who struggles with eating when other people are around and a friend of Nomoto who has faced rejection and heartbreak from being a "fickle" lover because of her asexuality.
The book is soft, it is understanding and it is all about accepting and embracing people for who they are and providing support, community and growth. With all the (well deserved) love the fantasy cooking manga/show is getting, I highly recommend peeps check it out.
If nothing else as an asexual who had to deal with escaping a biological family and used to struggle with eating, it's been so SO healing to see the representation and acceptance within the book.
Plus the creator donates much of the proceeds from merch and the live action TV adaptation to further the movement for marriage equality in Japan. It's not only a fantastic story but supporting it supports the vulnerable population who the book champions <3
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I’ve been waiting to get my hands on the third volume of She Loves To Cook And She Loves To Eat (TsukuTabe) just so I could read this conversation between Yako and Nomoto. I’ve noticed several recent yuri manga have been discussing asexuality lately, and I’m glad to see more.
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I admire author Sakaomi Yuzaki, not only for putting these topics in TsukuTabe, but for also using their audience to try and bring about some positive change for actual members of minority groups in Japan.
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bravewolfvesperia · 9 months ago
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Well, it... LOOKED somewhat edible before he'd left it at the mercy of the fire, and he's certain the small explosion that had followed had played a rather... monumental part in ruining his attempt at a homemade meal for Yuri. Maybe if he garnishes it with a bit of parsley, it'll take away from the almost HAUNTING shade of black the dish had emerged as.
" Yuri! I made lunch, if you've an appetite. " He sets the plate down, unaware the still hot ( unidentifiable ) food was beginning to burn a hole into the bottom of it, and shines Yuri that bright 'n knightly grin, like a Golden Retriever waiting for his pat on the head for a job well done. " Let me know if you would like a second helping after this! There's plenty! " // ( Flynn to Yuri--- we're so sorry ahead of time, LMFAO)
@tenebriism
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Any appetite he may have had no longer existed, in fact. Did... did he really see nothing wrong with this? Nothing black and burnt about it? Some things you just couldn't save, Flynn... If he had to wait for something else, Yuri was certain he would survive in that time. Surviving this was a whole other matter.
And he... had made more?! There was no way Yuri was eating all of this by himself. Flynn could probably get through some of it too, since he apparently never really tasted true terror... but Yuri was quite positive his stomach was going to actually kill him if he ate more than just what was on this one plate.
Unfortunately Flynn was clearly proud of it... and Yuri had, for a moment, been about to warn him that he should just make something else because it hadn't quiiiite come out right... and now he just didn't have it in him. Flynn enjoyed cooking and making... whatever these monstrosities were, and that by itself was stoppable... but not when he gave the most pleased, proud, excited smiles at what he thought was genuinely edible. And it was homemade... He couldn't... reasonably... reject this, right...?
Yuri completely deflated when Flynn smiled about it. One day he really would because he really needed to step in and do something about this... but today was not that day. In fact, Yuri was not going to die alone today. If Flynn was in a good mood, he may as well stay that way now. Yuri wasn't sure he could handle watching Flynn deflate the way he had with that look on his face right now... "Uh... s-sure... Why not invite the others if there's that much? We won't be able to finish all this ourselves..."
Even talking normally was difficult, but he was trying. Trying not to sound suspicious. Trying to get Flynn to not catch on, despite how Yuri's friends had been begging him to do something about this. Nope. Instead he'd just... subject them to it too. Because he didn't have it in him to be that cruel. To Flynn, anyway. Here he was sacrificing his own stomach for Flynn's happiness. He'd sacrifice all of theirs for it too. Then Flynn would be extra happy. Everyone would be pissed at Yuri for a week. Everyone except Flynn.
If all it took was Flynn smiling that happily over potential manslaughter, a lot of people might die under Yuri's watch...
Why did he have to be so weak for Flynn in the worst circumstances?
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intersquared · 5 months ago
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happy yuri day everyone
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authorhjk1 · 19 days ago
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Idk if you saw but Yuri of SNSD posted a bikini pic, hoping we can get a sunbae series out of that or just a quickie one shot? She’s driving me nuts lol.
Shore leave
(Kwon Yuri X Julie X Belle X Natty X Haneul X Male Reader)
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"Captain!"
You tear your eyes off the controls and turn around. Your XO is standing behind you.
"We've just reported back that our mission was a success. We will enter Honolulu Harbor within twenty minutes."
"Prepare to surface the boat."
"Aye, captain."
Jackson turns to his left.
"Chief of the Watch, blow main ballast tanks!"
The chief of Watch replies.
"Blow main ballast tanks, aye. Blowing main ballast tanks."
You start to walk towards the captain's cabin to finish your report. There is no need for you to be standing around the control room. The thirty man crew can do this while asleep.
"All ahead one-third, surface!"
"Raising the planes!"
"Clear the baffles!"
Opening the door, you look back into the control room. Jackson is standing at its center, overlooking everyone's actions.
"Periscope raised."
The man behind him, Miller, is making sure that it's free to surface.
"Surface is clear!"
You step inside and close the door behind you.
"Surface! Surface! Surface!"
Jackson's command is the last you hear as your submarine is about to see daylight once more.
Stepping foot on land feels odd after forty days underwater. You try to walk as normal as possible, while your crew follows you off the boat. A group of soldiers walk in your direction.
"Captain."
The man salutes you and you do the same.
"Major."
He extends his hand for you to shake.
"Happy birthday, old man."
"Thank you."
You laugh, happy to see him again for the first time in years.
"You and your crew deserve some rest while you're here."
He hands you a couple black cards, which look like key cards to hotel rooms.
"You should stay at a fancier place than the barracks. Order from the lieutenant colonel."
"I appreciate it. Please give him my thanks."
"I will. Now get out of here."
The two of you pat each other's shoulder, before you keep walking.
"Skipper."
You acknowledge lieutenant Kang's presence. The young man is barely 22 years old, but his career has been impressive so far. The worst thing about him? He found out that you used to listen to kpop.
"Have you talked to the major yet, sir?"
"I did."
The two of you walk in silence, while the crew walks after you, until Kang can't hold it in anymore.
"Did he give me permission to-"
"He did. But you have to behave yourself, lieutenant. No drinking, no fights, or any other way to get yourself into trouble."
You know that he has a short temper. But you trust him not abuse your trust.
"Everyone is on leave. And you're allowed to go to their concert."
"Thank you, sir."
You sigh as you reach the car that the major has left for you. Most of your men will head to the barracks. You, Jackson and Miller all got a room at a hotel, being the highest ranking officers on board. And you're letting the young lieutenant tag along.
After checking in, you decided to head to the hotel's pool. Being trapped in a steel cage several miles underwater with thirty men can get on your nerves. And since it's your birthday, you're more than happy to relax and clean your body. Although the number one reason to why you're not in your room, taking a well deserved nap, are the women. You don't remember the last time you talked with a woman for over ten minutes within almost a year. Living in your barracks, training younger soldiers and going on missions that take more than a month, don't leave you with a lot of free time. And the last months had been stressful and draining.
You realize that there aren't many empty deck chairs left as you make your way through the rather crowded area around the pool.
"Skipper!"
You turn your head to see Jackson, who is already sitting on one of the chairs. Miller is sitting to his left, while one on the right still seems to be empty. Skipper is usually not the term captains are addressed with, and some would tell them to shut the hell up, but you're easygoing. At least on land, when you're not on a mission. As long as your men know that you're in charge, you don't really care what they call you.
"Well, you guys came out here really quick."
"Forty days. I need some sun, sir."
You smirk at Miller's complaint, before getting comfortable on the empty chair.
"Do you know how long we have, until we get going again?"
You shake your head at Jackson's question.
"I don't. But I know what our next mission is about."
The two men don't ask for more information, knowing full well that you're not gonna tell them in a public area like this one.
"Let's hope we can relax a little longer than last time."
"Agreed."
You close your eyes, while you listen to the two men chatting.
"I like it here. The weather is nice."
"Just the weather?"
When you open your eyes again, you realize that you've fallen asleep. Quickly looking to your left, you don't see Miller or Jackson.
"Bastards."
You mumble, knowing what they're up to. The three of you have been become good friends over the years. It would surprise you, if they weren't out and about right now, looking for a bar to take you to later today.
"Excuse me?"
You turn to your right, only now realizing that someone is sitting there.
Her face is hidden by her bucket hat and her sunglasses. But it's not her face you're focused on right now anyway. Your eyes quickly scan her barely clothed body. Her white bikini matches the bucket hat. Even without seeing her face, you can tell how beautiful she is.
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"I apologize. I wasn't talking to you. I just realized that my friends ran off without me."
"Those are some great friends you have."
"Well, I can't blame them. I already overheard them talking about a party this morning."
"Oh a party? What's to celebrate?"
"It's my birthday today."
"Congratulations. I hope you have a great year."
"Thank you. It would already improve my year quite a lot, if I knew your name."
You see her chuckle at your attempt to flirt with her. She hesitates for a moment, before she answers.
"Yuri. Kwon Yuri."
"Nice to meet you."
You reach out your hand and she shakes it as you tell her your name.
Hers does sounds familiar, but you can't really tell.
"Are you here on vacation as well?"
You shake your head at her question.
"Not exactly. Me and my crew are just having a shore leave, while we wait for our next mission."
"Oh, you're in the military?"
"I am. Navy."
"Oh, that's so cool. Do you work on one of those big ships that are lying in the harbor nearby? I walked past them yesterday."
"No, I'm the captain of a submarine. We only got here a couple hours ago."
"Submarine? You don't hear that everyday."
You try to steer the conversation in another direction. There isn't much to talk about when it comes to your job anyways. At least not something you're allowed to talk about.
"So you're here on vacation?"
You haven't had the pleasure of sleeping with a woman for way too long. And you have to admit it's getting harder to restrain yourself. If your lucky and Yuri is down for something more than just talking...
"I am. I've been working a lot recently and thought I would take a break, now that my project is done."
"Your project?"
"I'm an actress."
"I'm actually not surprised to hear that. It would be a shame if someone beautiful like you didn't show her face on TV."
You bite your lip, knowing that you're going a little fast here. But if this the opportunity you were hoping for, you're definitely going to take it.
"Thank you. Although I like to think that I got this far because of my skills. Not because I'm pretty."
You nod in understanding.
"That's true. Have I seen you in anything? Or have you just started acting?"
"I've been doing this for a while, but I doubt you've seen me before."
"Okay, then. What genre do you usually do? Action? Romance?"
"I played a love interest of the male lead for my last project."
"Damn. Now I'm jealous of the guy who played him."
Yuri laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.
"You can't keep complementing me like this."
"Why not? I haven't seen a woman in over a month. I have to get everything out of my system at some point."
"Well, there are a lot of beautiful women here. I think you're being a little unjust by only giving me your attention."
Her smile tells you that she doesn't really mind at all. You make a point of looking around the area and the pool.
"Nope. I think I'm talking with the most beautiful woman here, right now."
"You can't stop, can you?"
Her amused smile makes you smile too.
"Like I said, I need someone to let this all out on."
You didn't expect Yuri to slightly bite her lip at your words. And then you realize that one could take your words in a different way.
"You really seem to be in need of some.... release."
You clear your throat.
"But you can keep going of course."
Yuri takes off her sunglasses and now smiles at you with her eyes as well. You already knew she was beautiful, but this is on another level. At the same time, you do feel like you've seen her before. Maybe in a movie?
"It's not like I don't like it..."
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"I need more."
Yuri gives you a happy and proud smile, before you capture her lips once more. You pin her against your hotel room's door. The two of you engage in another kiss. It's filled with passion and lust. You've been waiting for this for months. You don't know the last time Yuri got off. But judging from how hard she is kissing you back, you guess that it has been a while for her too. Or she's just turned on as hell.
Your hands leave her waist and start to explore her exposed skin. Yuri yanks off her bucket hat and throws it behind you. Her hair is a little more messy now as her own hands roam your body. While one of yours trails along the strings of her bikini towards the knots on her back, one of hers uses a finger and slowly travels down your spine, giving you goosebumps. Your second hand is lazily drawing circles on her flat midriff before it playfully tugs at the strings right beneath her chest. Her other hand mirrors your circles, but on your chest. You can feel her paying extra attention to your large tattoo, which she looked at earlier a little too long.
While you keep your lips locked with hers, you start to slowly undo Yuri's knots on her back. She draws along the lines of your tattoo. A big anchor. An equally sized dragon is winding itself around it.
Once you are finished with the first knot, you feel Yuri's breath shake a little as you both give each other a second to breathe. But soon, you're back at it again. Her hand, previously on your back, is now on your hip as she plays with the waistband of your trunks. Another knot follows the first.
You are getting bolder, now that she allowed you to undo her bikini. You let your hands travel along her waist and up to her chest. Yuri breaks the kiss as she feels your hands over her top. You give her tits a squeeze, making Yuri let out a moan. She has a smile on her face again, her arms now loosely placed on your shoulders. Her head slowly rolls back as you keep kneading her soft mounds.
"Your hands feel great. I love it."
Yuri now lets her own travel down your figure, until they're reach your trunks once more. You reach behind her and finally undo her top, before slowly taking it off her. Taking in the sight of her tits, you stay in place for a moment. But then you feel Yuri undo the tie on the front of your boxers agonizingly slow. You finally look into her eyes. She stares back at you as her fingers do their work.
Once she is done, you feel her thumbs glide between your skin and the waistband. Slowly she pulls them down. Around halfway past your hips, your trunks fall to the floor on their own. Yuri has a satisfied smile on her face as she looks down on you.
After you'd taken off her bottoms too, there wasn't much time or need for foreplay. You led Yuri to your bed, where you lied down and had her lie on top of you. Now you're enjoying yourself, tasting her delicious pussy, while you feel her soft lips glide up and down on your shaft. The position enables you to freely do with her lower half what you want to. You knead her full cheeks and pull them apart occasionally, while you let your tongue glide along her labia, before sucking on her clit. Yuri's moans are almost silenced by your dick in her mouth, which sends shivers up your spine. You feel her hands on your thighs and as she picks up the pace, it almost seems like she is fucking her face onto your cock. Just the thought of that makes you put in even more effort.
Soon, they both of you have made a mess of each other. You can't help but groan into her pussy, whenever Yuri takes you as deep as she can. And Yuri moans and sometimes let's her fingernails glide over your thighs, whenever you let your tongue flick against her clit.
When you both feel the increasing need to finally be as intimate as possible, Yuri momentarily gets off you, before turning around. Her face gets closer to yours once more as she sinks herself down on you. Her soft mounds press against your chest, you feel her nipples rub against your skin. But that's not the best part. The best part is the way Yuri's tight snatch slowly takes you inside. It leaves you breathing a little faster, her wet lips wrapping themselves around your shaft as tight as possible. A satisfied smile lingers on Yuri's lips as she leans down to kiss yours. She is now lying flat on top of you. Her hands are playing with your hair, while yours rest on her lower back, occasionally darting out to give one of her cheeks a playful squeeze.
The two of you take it slow, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. You were afraid you wouldn't last long at first, but the slow love making enables you to go longer than you expected. Yuri barely moves on top of you, slightly circling her hips, making your cock move inside of her. The two of you share one kiss after another. Her fingers comb through your hair. And she gives it a slight tug, whenever you hit the right spot inside of her. Yuri's breasts are pressed against your chest, her nipples rubbing against your skin.
Having your hands on her cheeks, you carefully start to move her back and forth. It brings more motion into the two of you. Yuri's lips find yours once more, while she lets out a moan, feeling her pussy glide along your cock. The more you make her move, the better it feels for the both of you. Your fingers begin to dig into her flesh and Yuri leaves a bite on your skin here and there. Looking up at her, you see her eyes are only half open, her eyelids heavy with pleasure.
"Oh my god."
Yuri lets out a loud sigh into your neck. It's the first time she spoke, since she took you inside. You feel her moving on her own now, so you let your hands travel along her back. Her hair is covering the both of you right now, serving as a makeshift curtain as it blocks out the sunlight.
Closing your eyes, you just enjoy the moment. How Yuri moves herself along your body on top of you. How her pussy glides along your shaft, her wet walls squeezing every inch. How her nipples move over your skin. How her moans reach your ear, whenever she doesn't lock her lips with yours.
"Yuri..."
You took too long. Focusing on the moment, feeling this gorgeous woman on top of you. You realize there is no turning back, the moment you open your eyes. Yuri bites her lower lip, looking down on you. She nods, giving you permission to finish what the two of you started.
You quickly reach down her back, your arms wrapping around her lower back, right above her ass. Instinctively, you let your legs slip out from underneath her and raise them, burying your heels into the mattress.
"Oh wow."
Yuri lets out a gasp. To her it feels like you just gained another inch. You start to fuck her now. A little faster than she moved before. Her arms now lying next to your shoulders, supporting her weight as she pushes her upper body higher. You can't stop yourself. Taking in the sight of her beautiful tits right in front of you, you fuck Yuri harder. She can't help but smile down on you, flattered by the way you seem to love every single part of her body.
"Yuri..."
You sigh her name once more. Yuri let's out a moan herself a moment later. She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You raise your hips a little higher, which makes you lift hers too. More and more of your cum invades Yuri's tight cavern, making her head sink onto yours once more.
The two of you stay in place, even after both of you have calmed down. Yuri is still lying on top of you. She has moved a little further down though to be able to comfortably place her head on your chest. Her toned midriff is pressed against your cock. You feel her fingers trace over your tattoo once more.
"You know...."
Yuri starts to talk after a while.
"My room is two floors higher. 5003. Just in case you..."
You crack a smile, your hand slowly stroking her hair.
"I will keep that in mind."
"Are you telling me that everyone is coming?"
You sigh, already knowing that this night will not end well. You expected the three guys to throw you a low profile party at a bar. Just the four of you.
"Yes, everyone. Plus, everyone else who is at the barracks and gets to go out tonight."
"Oh that's just great. How many men is that?"
Miller shrugs his shoulders.
"Fifty?"
You give him a disapproving glare. Now you wish you'd have stayed longer in bed with Yuri.
"Oh come on. They all love you. You know you have a reputation, right? No failed mission? Highest success rate?"
"So?"
Miller leads you down a long street which is taking you further to the beach.
"That doesn't mean I have to like that you invited fifty people."
"Relax, skipper."
He gives you a pat on the shoulder as you two reach the bar the three of them found earlier today. Looking to your right, you see the sunset. The sea is coloured in a beautiful orange. You'd have loved to take a moment and take in the view. You haven't seen a sunset in over a month. But Miller destroys your plan by opening the door. Music and shouts invade your ears. You walk inside, followed by Jackson, Miller and Kang. Most of the tables, around 10, are filled by men in uniforms, while two are occupied by other guests. One group looks like tourists, while the other makes you look at four gorgeous faces. Even after you were able to have sex with Yuri, you can't help but glance at the four girls a second longer. They all look significantly younger than you, with the girl on the far right looking like she just got fresh out of high school.
"Captain!"
One of the men spotted you and is now standing up. The laughter and chatter dies down. The other soldiers follow his example. You wait until everyone is standing. You hear Miller's voice behind you.
"Told you. Reputation."
You sigh as you look around. It seems like some of the men already had a couple of drinks.
"At ease."
As everyone sits back down, you notice how the group of tourists and the four girls all look very surprised by what's going on.
Suddenly, you hear Jackson groan in annoyance and you quickly realize why. There aren't any empty seats. Or rather, the only empty seats left are the ones at the table of the four girls. You see Miller stepping towards the nearest table, probably to get you a place to sit, but you grab his shoulder.
"It's fine. I was hoping for a relaxed night anyway."
The four of you walk through the bar and past some of the tables. Some of the men greet you individually, raising their glasses, or congratulating you.
"Hi. Are these empty, or are you waiting for someone?"
"No, they're empty. Please."
One of the girls spoke and is now gesturing towards the empty seats. You walk around the table and sit against the wall, next to the girl who looks the youngest. Jackson joins you on the bench, while the other two sit opposite from you.
You take one more look around the table. You can tell the girls are a little shy to restart their conversation now. The girl next to the youngest tugs her short black hair behind her ear, before taking a sip of her drink.
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The girl across from her is the one who invited the four of you to sit down. You can't help but stare at her lips for a moment as she finally says something to the girl next to her. You can't understand it, but it sounds like Korean.
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The girl she is speaking to is sitting next to Miller. She looks cute. Not as cute as the girl next you, but still kinda adorable. She seems to answer the other girl, before she takes out her phone.
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When the waitress reaches your table, the four of you order. The girls seem to have picked up their conversation. At one point it looks like the girl next to you asked a question. A question none of them seems to have the answer too. You're surprised when Kang suddenly says something in Korean. You've noticed that he has been unusually quiet this entire time. You can't blame him. The four girls are stunning. But somehow it seems like something else has held him back so far.
The girls are surprised by Kangs answer. They probably didn't expect him to understand them.
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Haneul's cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Why is he only saying now that he knows Korean? Her worried face glances at the man next to her. The man who seems to be in charge. She didn't expect anyone to understand her, apart from her members, when she admitted she found him hot, barely four minutes ago.
She was already afraid that he had caught her glancing at him from time to time. But now, she has to worry that his friend will tell him what she said. Haneul bows her head and thanks the man who spoke Korean, hoping he won't say anything. The other girls already teased her enough about her confession.
When the waitress comes back and placed the drinks in front of the soldiers, Haneul can feel how the man next to her relaxes further. He spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Now hers touch his. She can't help but bit her lip at the seemingly innocent connection. She isn't as bold as Julie or Natty, who would've placed their hands on his thigh and flirted with him. She hates herself for that. Haneul knows she needs to at least practice. Talking to her fans is easy. So why can't she do that with strangers as well?
"I'm surprised you know Korean."
Haneul looks up at Julie's words, which were directed at the man who answered her question.
"My parents are Korean. It's like my first language."
"Ah, that's cool."
"I have to admit, I'm a fan of you, girls. I'm going to the concert tomorrow."
"Oh, that's amazing."
Natty seems genuinely happy. While the three girls deepen the conversation with their fan, Haneul glances at the man next to her once more.
"Oh, fuck!"
Her inner self screams when he suddenly locks eyes with her. Haneul doesn't know if she should look away or not. But he smiles at her. And turns a little towards her.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Haneul."
Haneul gives you one of the cutest smiles you've ever seen. And the words slip out of your mouth, before you can think about them.
"You have a beautiful smile."
As the night deepens, you step outside, feeling the cold night air on your face. Haneul is walking out behind you. After her come Jackson, Miller and Kang and the other girls. It was one of them, Julie if you remember correctly, who suggested all of you should go for a walk on the beach.
You got to know all four girls quite well, who seem to be in a kpop group called kiss of life. They are all charming and beautiful, but it seems like you and Haneul have hit it off very well.
The two of you continue to talk as you walk past the palm trees and finally reach the sand.
"This is so beautiful."
Haneul can't fight the urge to take a couple of pictures of the star glazed night sky.
"It is."
You look at her and Haneul seems to catch on as she lowers her phone and turns to you. Her shy smile makes you chuckle, before you focus back on the stars.
"Haneul... Your name means sky, right?"
She looks at you in surprise.
"You speak Korean?"
"A little."
"Oh, you should've told me earlier."
You see her biting her lip and her cheeks slightly becoming darker. Is she embarrassed about something?
You hear laughter behind you. The two of you turn around. You roll your eyes as you watch Miller kissing one of the girls.
Haneul lets out a gasp as she sees Julie and one of the soldiers exchange a kiss. His hands are on her waist and Julie's are on his shoulders. Haneul is embarrassed, but at the same time, she is glancing at you, wondering how it would feel like to kiss you. Then she sees Natty and your other friend laugh together, arms locked. She watches how he slowly leans down, capturing the Thai girl's lips with his own.
You can tell Haneul has gotten more nervous over the last ten seconds.
"We don't need to do what they're doing, if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Huh?"
Haneul turns to you, her eyes wide open. You hesitate, but it seems like she does want you to kiss her. You place a hand on her shoulder and eventually lower it a little. Further and further, until you reach her small waist. Haneul's eyes are glued to yours the whole time. But you catch them darting down to your lips from time to time.
Once your hand is on her waist, you pull her closer. You press her body against your own and you can feel her perky tits rub against your body, right underneath your chest. Leaning down, you see Haneul closing her eyes.
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She seems so different from Yuri. Maybe it's her age or inexperience. But it doesn't make her any less attractive.
Your lips meet and you have to admit that Haneul's lips feel softer than you thought they would. You let your hand slowly wander over her back as you deepen the kiss. Haneul melts into you, her own hands pulling slightly at your shirt.
"Look at those two lovebirds."
Your kiss is interrupted by Julie's cheeky remark. You realize that you and Haneul have been standing like this more than a couple of seconds. For you, it felt like a short moment. But the other six are all looking at you.
"We are waiting for your answer, skipper."
"For what?"
You seem to have missed the question. A proud but shy smile appears on Haneul's face.
"Are you okay with all of us heading to the nearest hotel?"
You wonder why they're asking. They could just take off. It's not like they're on duty or something. But then you catch how Natty is casually leaning against Jackson, while her hand seems to be placed on Miller's back. While Kang, despite having his hands on Belle's waist, seems to exchange a knowing smile with Julie.
Their plan quickly dawns on you and you look down at Haneul. By now, you're pretty sure that Haneul wouldn't oppose to a night together. But, even if you have to share, the idea of being able to be with all four of them almost makes your head spin.
"What do you say?"
Despite the darkness, Haneul's cheek are laced with a darker red than ever before.
"I-I wouldn't mind."
The way to the hotel room was uneventful. You could tell Haneul was still nervous, but you managed to calm her down by taking her hand in yours while you walked. The receptionist raised an eyebrow when you told her all eight of you would share a room for the night. But she didn't say anything and just gave you the key card to a slightly bigger room.
Now you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down on Haneul. She is fumbling around with your belt. Miller is sitting on your left with Julie kneeling in front of him. The other four are on the other side of the bed behind you.
You can't help but watch as Julie opens her mouth and takes Miller's cock into her mouth. She is definitely more experienced than Haneul, who only got your pants off now. You catch her hesitating, but a moment later, she pulls your boxers down as well. Her wide open eyes are focused on your cock. She slowly opens her mouth as well. Reaching out, you take her cheek in your hand, encouraging her. Haneul's eyes smile up at you as her pretty lips close around your tip.
Your head rolls back as you feel her tongue moving around. You're so glad you and Yuri had fun earlier today. Otherwise, Haneul's cute face would've made you cum right there.
She lets her tongue dance around for a moment, before pressing it underneath your cock. You feel her taking more of you inside her mouth. On instinct, your hand moves up to the top of her head. You can't help but stroke her hair as Haneul does her best to pleasure you.
"Good girl."
You groan, when you feel her sucking on your cock properly. You expected her to have no experience at all. But it seems like Haneul does know just enough.
You glance to your left once more as you hear someone choking. Julie has placed her hands flat on Miller's thighs and is almost face fucking herself onto his cock.
Haneul can feel that you got harder by looking at those two. She takes a deep breath and then lets her lips glide further down your shaft. The younger girl can't compete with Julie, but you're more than happy with what she is doing. You reach behind her to hold her hair back, focusing only on Haneul.
"You're doing great."
You can't help but praise her. She looks so cute, while she sucks you off.
Haneul places her hands on your thighs as well and looks up at you. Almost as if she's asking for permission. You nod, curious to see what she's going to do.
"Damn."
You groan when you feel her throat tighten around you as she pushes her head down further. She quickly begins to cough and choke. Haneul's spit starts to leave her mouth. It gets all over your cock, your lap, her shirt and her thighs. But she tries to keep going, bobbing her head up and down.
"Don't close your mouth, open it wide."
You almost jump when you hear Julie's voice right next to you. She is kneeling next to Haneul, her arm stretched out as she keeps jerking off Miller's wet cock.
Haneul retreats, letting your own cock fall out of her mouth.
"Relax your throat when you first take all of it. It makes it easier."
Haneul listens closely to Julie's words.
"Like this."
Your hands dig into the sheets as Julie suddenly decides to deepthroat you. You can feel how she is forcing her jaw open wide enough to take all of you inside. Haneul watches in awe as the other girl bobs her head up and down. Julie doesn't even choke this time, her throat relaxed enough to take it all.
You notice how she still doesn't stop stroking Miller's cock. From behind you, you hear Jackson groan something.
You have to distract yourself like this, not wanting to cum early. Julie is doing an amazing job and now backs away to give Haneul another chance.
The younger girl tries to imitate Julie and takes most of your cock inside her mouth at once. You feel how she is able to take more now, her throat almost greedily sucking on your cock.
"That's it."
Julie smiles at her, before letting go of Miller's cock. She spits into her hand and wraps it around his length once more, making sure her saliva is all over shaft.
Haneul has now lifted her once more, letting her lips glide along your length.
"You're doing great."
Julie pats the back of Haneul's head. When she looks up at you, the older girl gives you a seductive wink. Before you can react, Julie pushes Haneul's head down, deep into your lap.
"Take it all, baby."
Her voice is still sweet and carrying, but her hand on Haneul's back makes the younger girl choke and gag.
And then, Julie uses Haneul's mouth to jerk you off. She lifts her head up and down, making her lips glide along your cock.
You barely notice that Miller is now standing next to Julie. She's sucking him off once more, but making sure she is fucking Haneul's face onto your cock at a steady pace.
You feel bad for Haneul. But at the same time, you can barely hold it together. Her tight throat just feels so damn amazing. The way her whole mouth almost takes in all your cock. The way her saliva gets everywhere. The way she gags whenever your tip hits the back of her throat.
You sigh in relief when Julie lets go off Haneul's head and focuses back on Miller. Haneul takes you in deep a couple of times more, before she finally backs away. Her big eyes and the strings of her saliva connecting her lips with your cock make her look so cute but sexy at the same time.
You reach out and wipe the spit off her lips. To your surprise, Haneul sucks on your thumb in return.
"Get on the bed."
You guide her to her feet and make her lie on her back. She watches you as you now undo her shorts. Glancing behind her, you can see how Natty is giving Jackson a titjob, while Belle is giving Kang head too.
But you focus back on Haneul as you pull her pants off of her.
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You push the small piece of fabric that is covering her pussy to the side, exposing her snatch.
Haneul gasps when she feels your lips touch her thighs. She expected you to head straight for her core, but you tease first. It only takes you a couple of kisses, before her eyes silently beg for you to pay attention to her pussy.
You take both her thighs in your hands, spreading them apart so you have enough room. You kiss her right next to her lower lips, making her sigh in frustration. When you finally do let your tongue glide along her lips, Haneul's head rolls back. Her eyes close and her hands grab the sheets as you begin to eat her out.
The young girl's moans echo through the room. She occasionally lets out a small squeal or sigh whenever you suck on her clit. By now, one hand has moved to your head as she is slightly pulling at your hair, trying to get your tongue deeper inside of her. The other covers her mouth as Haneul tries to reduce the volume of her moans. She doesn't want to be the loudest in the room. Embarrassment is still colouring her cheeks.
But she doesn't have to worry much, when she hears Julie moaning shamelessly next to her. Miller is lying next to Haneul on his back, while Julie is riding his face. The older girl throws her head back and grinds against him, while his hands hold her waist.
Haneul almost jumps when Natty's face suddenly appears above her head. Jackson made her get on all fours on the bed and is now eating her out from behind. Natty basically moans into Haneul's face. The younger girl can't help herself. The Thai girl just looks so amazingly hot like that. She reaches upward with her free hand. Natty gladly follows Haneul's guidance and lowers her head. The two girls share one deep kiss after another.
As they both loose themselves in the sea of pleasure, Natty's limps grow weak. She gets lower and lower as they break their kiss. Finally, Natty is almost lying on top of Haneul. The younger girl's face meets Jackson's. She hesitates, but eventually she captures his lips with her own. She can taste Natty's juices.
You do the same with the Thai girl. You share a deep kiss with her, while she slowly inserts a finger into Haneul's pussy. The younger girl moans louder now, but you pull away and stand up. Natty follows your movements and invitingly opens her mouth. You push your cock past her lips.
Looking past her, you see that Jackson is doing the same with Haneul. While the two girls lie on top of each other, they give the two of you head.
"Damn."
You groan, acknowledging how skilled Natty is. She definitely did this more often than Haneul. You feel her tongue doing all kinds of tricks as she keeps her lips sealed around your length. You place a hand on top of her head and give her mouth shallow thrusts.
As you use Natty's mouth, you watch Julie, who keeps riding Miller's face. Seems like she got a hold of the lieutenant as well. Kang is standing on the bed, right in front of her. One of Julie's hands is wrapped around his length, while her lips are sealed around his shaft as well. Her other hand is entangled in Miller's hair.
Wait, where is Belle?
She catches your eye as she slowly crawls over the bed towards you. Just when she's about to reach you, you reach for her face, pulling her up by her chin. Belle smiles at you, before the two of you share a kiss. It doesn't last long, because Belle now reaches down to have a taste of your cock as well.
Natty starts to moan all over your cock when Jackson slowly pushes his cock inside of her. You watch her eyes roll as she suddenly finds herself trapped between the two of you. When Jackson pushes forward, he basically makes her take you down her throat. Belle makes sure that even your base is cared for, while Natty becomes helpless.
Belle suddenly gasps in surprise when Miller reaches around her waist and pulls her body towards him. Julie is already an all fours while Kang fucks her from behind. The older man now puts Belle into the same position. But instead of fucking her, you catch how he starts to eat her ass. The younger girl quickly turns into a moaning mess. Her and Julie both exchange one kiss after another.
Looking down on yourself again, you notice how Natty is starting to drool all over Haneul's beautiful pussy. It now looks so wet and so good, you can't help yourself. You almost have to push Natty's head off your cock for her to leave you alone. Now her moans are louder. You reach down and place two fingers on Haneul's clit. You feel her jump at the sudden touch, but when you start playing with her, you hear her moan as well.
"Damn, Natty. Haneul is such a tight girl."
"Yeah, she is. Such a tight cunt."
You make Natty watch as you slowly penetrate Haneul's glistening folds. The older girl keeps drooling all over the younger girl's pussy, coating your cock in her saliva as well.
"Does she feel good for you? Is she being a-"
A particularly hard thrust leaves Natty speechless for a moment.
"Is-Is she being a good little girl for you?"
"Yes, she is."
You take a hold of Natty's chin and make her look up at you.
"You like it when your friend is a slut?"
She eagerly nods, another moan leaving her mouth.
"Do you want to see how I use her tight pussy like a fleshlight?"
You talk a little louder, making sure Haneul can mentally prepare herself.
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck her like the slut she is."
As Natty talks, you feel Haneul's legs close around you in conformation. It seems like the younger girl has lost all of her shyness by now.
You properly take a hold of her thighs and start to fuck Haneul's pussy. A moment later, you hear a string of moans and whines leave her lips. You watch how Jackson momentarily pulls out of Natty and thrusts down into Haneul's wide open mouth. You doubt the young girl has ever had two cocks inside of her at once. The two of you alternate between both of their mouths and pussies, turning the two of them into begging messes.
"Are you really going to-Oh god!"
You glance to your right as you hear a loud yelp. Belle is now on top of Miller, who is sitting on the bed. Her feet are planted on his thighs, her hands are holding onto his wrists. His own hands are on her waist.
"You're so big, oh god!"
He makes Belle take his cock into her ass. Slowly at first, before he starts to pick up the pace a little. You can't help but notice how good her pussy looks as well. Not as good as Haneul's to be honest though.
You don't really remember how you ended up in this position. After Haneul, you do remember being inside of Julie and the Belle. Now, you're lying on the bed and Haneul is on top of you. She's facing you, her hands on your chest, supporting her weight. To your left, the other three couples have gotten into the same position. The three guys and you are all lying down, while the four girls are each riding someone. At some point, the four of them all got into the same rhythm. They all lift themselves upwards and then impale themselves on their partner below at the same time.
"I-I think I'm gonna...."
Haneul's voice gets cut off when your cock is finally too much for her. You could tell she's kept it in for a while now, just to be on the same level as the other three. But now she finally becomes undone, shaking on top of you. Her snug pussy twitching around your cock. You hold onto her waist, making sure she doesn't fall down.
The next one to go is Belle. She is riding Jackson, who's lying next to you. With a loud gasp, she joins Haneul in her orgasmic state. When Haneul finally calms down, she looks at you.
"I-I need a break."
You nod, noticing that she really is out of breath. You help her with climbing off of you. As Haneul lies down, you get up. The fact that she just came on top of you has you longing for more. And the way Belle has started to pick up her pace once more, indicates she can take more as well.
Now kneeling behind her, you reach around her body and cup her breasts. Her bounces slow down and you move a little closer. Jackson reaches behind her and pulls Belle's cheeks apart.
"Why are you-"
She gets the answer a second later as she feels your tip push pass the tight ring of her ass.
"Oh! Oh, god! I've never taken this much before!"
You thrust inside of her, making Belle almost fall forward.
Jackson and you start to work together. Whenever you push inside Belle, his hands on her ass push her upwards as well. It makes her take even more of you, while her pussy glides along his shaft. And then you almost pull out of her as you pull her down with you, impaling her on his cock.
"Oh, yes! Ruin me!"
Belle quickly gets into it, the feeling of having two holes filled overwhelming her.
"Fuck, that's so hot."
Julie sighs on your right, who is riding Kang's cock. Next to her is Natty doing the same with Miller. The two guys exchange a look.
"Hey, wait!"
Natty complains, but Miller ignores her. He pushes her off of him and kneels behind Julie. The oldest has a mischievous grin on her face.
"Oh, yes. Give it to me, boys."
She moans loudly when the two of them start to fuck her ass and pussy as well. She doesn't seem to care at all that Natty just lost her own opportunity to feel good.
You motion her to come closer and Natty quickly crawls towards you. After she lies on her back, you hold Belle with only one hand and insert two fingers of your other one into Natty's wet pussy.
All three girls are now moaning together again, while Haneul is still lying on the side. Still recovering.
"Fuck."
You groan into Belle's ear, desperately trying to fight the urge to bite into her naked shoulder. Her ass is just so tight. It feels so good. That tight ring of her muscles keeps squeezing the life out of you, while you feel can feel Jackson's cock inside of her as well.
"Oh my god."
Belle sighs and moans. By now, she has become dead weight. It's up to you and Jackson to move her up and down, while you use her holes. Eventually, her strength leaves Belle's whole body. She collapses on top of Jackson. He's still inside her pussy and now you start to fuck Belle's ass a little faster. You make her body rock back and forth on top of him.
Natty seizes that opportunity and quickly climbs on top of Belle. You hear Jackson groan, you can't tell if it's their combined bodies on top of him, or just Belle's snatch. Either way, you're now able to switch between the two girls.
You pull out of Belle's snug ass and push inside Natty's pussy.
"Oh, yes. Fuck me hard."
The older girl sighs, backing her ass up a little bit more.
"Oh, that's it. You're gonna give us your cum?"
Julie's words push you towards the edge as you feel her hand quickly stroking your cock. The four girls are all kneeling on the floor in a circle, their backs up against each other. The four of you each stand in front of one of them.
Kang is the first to finish. With a loud groan, he cums all over Natty. Her face and her tits are painted waited after only a couple of seconds. Belle is the second one to get hit. Miller unloads all over her face as well, some of his cum hits her hair and Haneul as well.
Julie puts your cock into her mouth as well, urging you on to not leave her hanging. At the same time, Jackson orgasms too, painting Haneul's face. The youngest gasps at the rather unfamiliar feeling. But before she can say anything, Belle already captures her lips with her own. The two girls engage in a messy, cum filled make out session.
You suddenly feel a second pair of lips on your cock. Natty's painted face greats you as she eagerly lets her lips wander along your length.
"Fuck."
You groan, the two girls quickly getting you to the point of no return.
When they realize you're about to cum, they both lean back. They use their hands to push their tits together. Mouths wide open and tongues out. Natty closes her eyes, while Julie looks straight up at you.
You finally finish, painting both of their faces and tits. The sight in front of you almost makes you hard again already as you see the two girls sharing your cum.
You thought your birthday would've already been the highlight of your shore leave. But you're proven wrong, when you wake up the next day to a snap from your new friend.
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 6 months ago
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Vaggie: "Charlie, babe? Can you come over here for a sec? I need help proving a point."
Charlie: "Okay!"
Charlie: (ZOOMS over)
Charlie: "I'm here." (cradling vaggie's hand tenderly) (beaming) "How can I help...?"
Vaggie: "You just did."
Angel Dust: "Fuckin' show off."
Vaggie: (at angel dust) (Smug) "Your turn."
Charlie: "? Are we playing a game??"
Vaggie: "No but it's still gonna be fun."
Angel Dust: "Shush. I'm tryin' focus here! Ah-HEM."
Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husky man~ Would ya come over here an' help me with somethin', mr. whiskers-"
Husk: "No."
Angel Dust: "Pweeease~?"
Husk: "Fuck off."
Vaggie: "And there we have it."
Angel Dust: "Bullshit! You're NOT more attractive than me, toots! Not even personality wise!"
Charlie: "Was that the point we're proving?"
Angel Dust: "NOTHIN'S PROVEN!"
Charlie: "Did it even need proving??? I mean, look at her."
Angel Dust: "I'm lookin'. It's a lesbian only her lover could love."
Charlie: "I DO really love her~"
Vaggie: "And I try hard every day- Angel shut up- to be a little bit worthy of that love. Case in point."
Charlie: "Wait, go back to the point about not feeling worth-"
Vaggie: "Old news babe. Hey Husk! C'mere for a moment!"
Charlie: "-she's dodging the question!"
Angel Dust: "She's bein' an annoying bitch of a friend."
Husk: (slouching over) "The fuck do you want."
Angel Dust: "Shut. UP."
Vaggie: "Nothing much. Didn't want you to miss out on Angel Dust pouting that's all."
Husk: "Yeah?"
Charlie: "Awww Vaggie, that's really thoughtful!"
Vaggie: "Just doing my lesbian duty."
Charlie: "Angel Dust is a guy though?"
Vaggie: "A gay guy. It's solidarity."
Angel Dust: "I hate you."
Husk: "Huh. Fake hating people looks good on you, looser." (smirk) "Cute pout."
Husk: (wanders off)
Angle Dust: "......."
Angel Dust: (grabbing vaggie and lifting her to eye level) "I love ya we're besties for life and if ya do this t' my heart again 'm shanking ya in the middle of the night with a shiv made from a sharpened yuri manga."
Vaggie: "And I've never wanted you more. As a friend."
Charlie: "Okay good great wonderful friendship moment everyone. Now!"
Charlie: (holding out arms)
Charlie: "I want MY girlfriend back." (pouting) "Please."
Angel Dust: "May the sapphic be with ya."
Angel Dust: (dumps vaggie in her arms)
Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husk....! Guess who's POUTIN' agai- Whiskers stop runnin' an' look at me!!!"
Husk: "Once was fucking enough."
Angel Dust: "Once is NEVER enough fucking with me~"
Charlie: "Wow. Husk sure can move when he wants to..."
Vaggie: "Meh, he's not even using his wings."
Charlie: "He's really not is he? Aww!"
Charlie: "...."
Charlie: "...Vaggie. Is my pout cute too?"
Vaggie: "The cutest, sweetie." (smooches pout) "And most bi-utiful."
Charlie: "HEHEH."
Niffty: (from above) "I bet she'd pout even HARDER if I dropped this DEAD RAT in her hair."
Charlie: "A WHAT!?"
Niffty: "Dead rat."
Vaggie: "Don't you dare-"
Niffty: "Whee! Here we go!"
Chaggie: (running and screaming)
Angel Dust: (distantly) (shrieking) "HUSK RAT HUSK HUSK HELP RAT DEAD RAT HELP HUSK HUUUUUSK!!!!"
Husk: "-oh shit hold still DON'T FLING IT AT ME ASSHOLE-"
-EXLPOSION-
Cherri Bomb: "wHY IS THERE A RAT CORPSE IN MY BRA!?"
Niffty: "Your welcome!"
Cherri Bomb: "How! HOW IS tHERE A RAT CORPSE! IN MY BRA!!!!"
Charlie: "Cherri run just run-!"
Cherri Bomb: "Already one dead rat boob surprise too late for that!"
Niffty: "Happy pride month everyone!"
Niffty: (GIGGLING)
Niffty: "I bleached and dyed each rat corpse a different rainbow color~"
Alastor: "...Hmm?"
Alastor: (oozing out of shadows)
Alastor: "And no rat for me, my dear? No pride for poor old Alastor?"
Niffty: "For youuu? Iridescent cockroach!"
Niffty: (impales one on his antlers)
Alastor: "Oh I AM touched! ...Might I ask why the change in vermin, however?"
Niffty: "Irony!!" (CACKLES)
Alastor: (confused) (still touched) "Ah."
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fanarchoslashivist · 2 months ago
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I think what I love about Vontra is that you immediately pick up that she's an antagonist.
Spoilery bits below, mostly I'm rambling.
We spent this whole movie with characters being introduced as threats, they attack Roz, break her, steal peices of her, insult her. Roz is subjected to the brutality of the food chain every scene of the movie, but for the animals this is natural, this is normal. You eat others, others eat you, you fight to stay alive every day.
Roz's compassion in encoded into her, it's the human pack bonding that makes everyone in the film think she's weird, and she never loses this most human part of herself. Proof that she was made by human hands, it saves her and everyone else.
Except that it's a part of human kind that humans in power don't like.
The place that made Roz wants everything to be perfect, it's a city of the future, an oasis for select humans to escape what is slowly revealed to be a world in ruins from climate change, but we never see more of that except the passing scenery of destroyed cities.
Life is still growing, still thriving, and corporations are still building walled cities and promising the ultra wealthy a completely subservient servant class.
When the ship arrives to collect Roz, the ship she's been trying to signal half the movie, we don't know what to expect. Are they friendly? Are they here to fix her? She's been slowly breaking down the final half of the movie, leaking fluid, losing peices, shutting down as her battery depletes faster and faster. She gets fatigued, she uses a prosthetic, she goes days without moving.
She is disabled.
And down from this ship that is supposed to rescue her drops a peppy sounding companion who promises to 'fix' her.
Even though she is programmed to sound happy to put others at ease, as she states, you know immediately that she is Bad News.
The way she talks down to Roz, her manner of speech, her constant invasion of personal space, her pointed questions that are obviously accusations.
Yeah we all went "ooh toxic yuri >3" because we love queer coded villains getting flirty.
But it was also very obviously meant to feel violating, specifically similar to medical violation.
Roz was on display as a disabled robot, something in need of repair, in need of help, but Vontra saw her as something needing to be Corrected, not simply fixed but full factory reset, all the bits of her that are unique sent away to be studied.
Roz wanted help, she wanted to belong, she wanted to be repaired, but she also still wanted to be HER. However it's her disability that influenced her changes in coding, she needed to create her own updates to get around issues she faced, and it created a personality she enjoyed being.
She wanted a choice, but Vontra was programmed to see all deviation from the norm as something in need of repair. Roz wasn't a person in need of help, she was a defect to be collected, studied, adjusted, and put back out into production.
Respecting Roz, her boundaries, her thought process, even her willingness to be touched, it didn't even occur to Vontra. Because Vontra is a robot programmed to collect broken robots, and Roz is a broken robot.
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iznsfw · 10 months ago
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Manic Robotic Dream Girl
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena
IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut
8,311 words
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Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 
Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.
That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 
Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—
“Vodka.”
“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 
“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 
Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 
Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 
Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 
In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.
Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?
“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.
A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.
Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 
Take your drink and thank Yuri. 
The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 
You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.
Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 
Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.
Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 
Loneliness?
You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.
The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.
Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.
So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.
A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 
He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”
“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”
WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.
Their lives.
He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”
The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.
“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”
“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”
Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.
The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 
Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.
The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.
Huh.
While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.
He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).
Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.
“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.
-
Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 
Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?
Your table?
It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.
YENA.
Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.
The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.
Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 
Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 
“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 
You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 
“And that is?”
“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”
You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.
She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 
Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.
“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”
“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”
How did you—how did she—
Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 
“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”
Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 
Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.
Maybe she’s just a confident woman.
“Come on, I dare you.” 
“Only if you go first.” 
“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 
Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?
You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 
Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—
“Don’t have one.”
“Sorry?”
She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”
There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.
So no, you’re not buying it.
“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”
“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”
You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.
The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 
That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.
“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”
“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”
Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.
Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.
“My story is, uh, weird.”
“Tell me.”
“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”
Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.
“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”
“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 
Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”
A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.
Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.
“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”
Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 
“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”
It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.
“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”
You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.
She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”
Yena kneels.
There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.
So is your dignity.
Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 
“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”
She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.
“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.
You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 
You don’t.
The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?
Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.
“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 
Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 
Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—
“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”
At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.
You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 
The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.
While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 
“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.
Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.
Perfect hair, too, you note.
Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.
She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.
Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.
Yep, perfect.
“Good—fucking—girl.”
Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.
“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”
What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.
You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.
She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 
“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”
-
You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.
This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.
“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”
“I, uh…” 
The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 
“Well?”
The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 
“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”
He stares at her. 
“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”
You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?
His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.
“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”
The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 
Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 
She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.
Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 
The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”
You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.
“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”
Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.
“I’m not from the North, you know.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”
You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.
You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.
Stop in your tracks. 
See the blood running down her arm. 
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”
You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?
“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”
You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 
But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 
To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?
“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”
Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 
She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”
“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”
First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 
Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”
Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.
She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 
The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.
She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”
“I guess we’ll have to see.”
Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 
You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 
Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?
The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 
“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.
Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.
You wouldn’t mind that.
Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.
And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.
“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”
“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”
Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 
You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.
You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.
How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 
She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 
“Holy shit, Yena…”
“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”
Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.
Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.
“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 
“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”
“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”
She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?
You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 
“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.
Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 
You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.
Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.
“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”
She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:
“Of course.”
Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?
Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 
Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.
“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 
Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 
“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”
“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 
Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.
The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.
The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.
Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”
Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.
All just to be better.
She is.
“Yeah.”
Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 
It disappears as fast as it arrived.
“Wrong fucking answer.”
Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?
Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 
What the fuck? 
Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.
Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 
“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 
The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—
“Chaewon?” 
Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.
And yet here she is.
Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.
She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”
There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.
“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”
She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?
You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 
“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.
You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.
This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 
A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.
She’s the last thing you ever heard.
614 notes · View notes
carpkoinobori · 3 days ago
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[⟢] cop car — karina x reader
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[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]
song(s): cop car - mitski | no te pido mas - helenita vargas | de oro - la familia andre | la murga - willie colón | la cuchilla - las hermanas calle
summary: you grew up desperate and made your way to the top, even started working for DAS. but your first assignment shouldn’t have been this— they sent you to die. your body lived, though. you didnt.
pairing: patrón!karina x halcón!reader (also x teniente!giselle)
tags: angst, like horrible angst, toxic and I mean Very Toxic yuri, major character death, implied sexual content, this is DARK, set in 1970-90’s colombia, kind of ambiguous but happy ending? reader is lowk stupid and a bop
wc: 10.9k
cw: karina is horribly manipulative, cartels, guns, selling, making, and use of drugs, use of weapons, murder, bombs, death, etc. this is about the colombian cartel ok shit is fucked.
ex: before there’s any outrage I AM COLOMBIAN. all information is acquired through primary sources (ex: family who literally lived through it). most info will be accurate, but my family specifically lived in medellín, calí, and barranquilla. this is set in bogotá. apologies for any city-based in accuracies.
a/n: this is for you aettudae my #1 ❤️
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1964, Cundinamarca, Colombia Local time: 1:00 A.M. Location: a small town in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia Objective: . . .
You were born on the outskirts of the city. Bogotá, the capital— the inside was rich, used to be filled with tourists, big buildings and fancy cars. The outside was él pueblo, where you’d wake up at three in the morning, walk to the nearest bus stop, which was probably a few kilometers away, take the buses that never ran on time with the rest of the exhausted men and women heading to work— work for rich people that ran the city till nightfall, get on another bus, and walk a few kilometers home, every day, constantly, while getting paid barely enough to support your family.
That was if you didn’t get robbed, or blown up in the middle of the city, of course— political unrest stemming from La Violencia had made FARC, and the cartel had begun to ramp up production and organization, planting car bombs under public buses and cars. The country was rife with bombings and gang violence till the late 90’s.
But right now, it was in the very early morning.
You would be born in 1964 to a poor family living in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia, right on the outskirts of Bogotá. Your mother would be killed in 1970. Your father would be killed en la cantina, at night, in 1972.
You had been working since 12, anyway. Being told of your pathetic father’s death by a police officer who clearly did not care was when it was decided— you would not die in this town. You would make a name for yourself.
You were right, of course. You did make a name for yourself— you took down one of the most prominent cartel leaders in the country.
Or, at least, that’s what the media thought.
LA VERDAD DE LO QUE PASÓ EN 1989. —————————————————————— THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED IN 1989.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:00 P.M. Location: Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad | Administrative Department of Security (DAS) HQ Objective: Enter the meeting
You made it into DAS at 21.
Really, it was probably just because the high-rank workers felt bad for you. They understood— a girl from the outer part near Bogotá, no parents— you just wanted to make the country better for people like you.
You were given small jobs like paperwork and editing documents, until now. They were calling you in for your first meeting. Despite your usually serious nature, you couldn’t help a bubble of excitement. You’d finally be able to help like you’d always wanted.
which is why it was confusing why everyone was so somber when you walked in.
“Good morning,” you greeted, taking a seat.
“Good morning, y/n,” replied the woman who headed the ground-team. All your coworkers around her looked solemn, and you stared at them all puzzled.
“Your first assignment will be to infiltrate a specific branch of the Bogotá cartel— we fear they might be working with either FARC or plan to merge with another faction, and they’re already quite dangerous as it is— we don’t need more of them,”
the room was silent. You knew what this was— your first year on the job with barely any training. They were sending you to die, just to get some information.
You sat up straight, squaring your shoulders. You would get the information to help your people. You would live.
“I understand,” you replied, with a nod, standing to collect your file.
The woman handing it to you leaned in, a pained look in her eyes “Perdón,”
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 10:54 P.M. Location: Una cantina Objective: Scout an in to the “organization”
The woman in charge of the specific section of the widespread cartel that was causing so much destruction frequented a specific bar. You had been given her file— she was beautiful, with dark hair and pale skin, but she didn’t seem to be colombian. It didn’t really matter, to you— you weren’t here to ask her why she’d made these choices— you needed to infiltrate one of the largest cartels in Bogotá, on your first job.
you sighed, your head in your hands, the bartender giving you a cursory glance. The place was seedy, filled with alcoholics and sex-workers, as well as probable cartel members, which is why you were here.
You sat up, looking around. It was said Karina frequented this bar. You prayed she’d show up, making the sign of the cross.
God delivered— she walked in, with two other people you didn’t quite recognize— one had dark hair, as well, with big eyes, although her face was serious. The other was lithe, thin— her hair was shorter, and lighter in color, more similar to a brown.
You knew what you’d have to do to start getting information. It made you feel a little sick— a part of you, though, was grateful Karina was so beautiful. Her smile was cocky and smug, like that of someone who knew she was untouchable. She made conversation with her two accompanies, talking and laughing and drinking. You waited for an hour or so, so that she was now most definitely more than tipsy.
you walked over, wearing a short, tight black dress that let you fit the bill of another profession, looking at her through half lidded eyes.
another thing about the cartel. if they wanted a girl, they’d have her. The club was a dangerous place, the bar was a dangerous place— you’d seen a man get shot at a hamburger cart. The cartel was ruining the country.
you pushed down your sudden wave of resentment, focused on flirting with Karina. Her friend, the long haired girl, stared at you for a long time, scrutinizing. You wouldn’t know what that meant, for a while.
Karina grinned, tilting her head. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t see why not,” you smiled, voice practiced to be smooth and flirty. You didn’t drink, usually, but you needed the courage.
She handed you a shot of aguardiente. It was dry and burned your throat, but it was good. You made conversation. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You smiled, putting a hand on her arm. “Seems a bit.. dirty,”
Karina smiled, predatorily, teeth glinting in the low yellowed light. “Just trying to relax. You don’t seem like the type of girl to frequent this place. Why are you here?” She asked back.
“Oh, just.. trying to have a little fun,” you replied, lowly, voice ghosting over her ear. She seemed to like that answer.
“Yeah? Why don’t you come home with me, then?”
Your smile widened, although your eyes with still half lidded, touches fleeting. You still played your part.
“I will,”
you ended up going home with Karina. It took months to get her to trust you, but you had finally managed to get her to let you start working. All it took was a sob-story, a fake name, and she allowed you to work in her jurisdiction.
and so began the first objective: names. You needed names.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 4:33 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
Karina had a home, of course, a large one— you had seen parts of the inside many a time. Of course, they also had some warehouses where they kept goods, where some of the members could crash for a night. You usually stayed with Karina, following her orders.
Some of the members used fake names. You had managed to catch onto one— Ning Yizhou, or NingNing. It was kind of stupid to put part of your real name in your fake name, but plenty of members didn’t use false names at all. You supposed it was just because they didn’t have much to hide.
The name was quietly recorded into your notebook— in code, of course, specifically pigpen-cipher, although you mixed it in with a few different things, referencing dice code as well to make it more confusing— the members of the organization sometimes forgot to call out their chosen names for each other, slipping up. You didn’t mind, though, it made your life easier.
The group had a whole network across Bogotá, planning to move into Medellín, which you felt was not a good idea, but had said nothing.
at one point, Karina brought you all out to eat at a very nice restaurant. You had become a favorite of sorts, for her. She didn’t suspect a thing, thank god.
They began to make small talk, conversations imbued with remarks about the ‘business’, people causing problems, supply and demand, and those annoying Americans.
the waiter came, and everyone quieted.
”Una cerveza, porfa,” Karina was first.
“Dame un refresco, por favor,” Giselle.
You felt something.. off. Obviously, Giselle wasn’t colombian. None of these four women were. But they all learned Spanish here. None of them really spoke Spanish beforehand. Giselle was speaking very.. correctly. Or, at-least, not using slang from colombia. Had she learned Spanish in Mexico? Castellano? Was she part of another gang?
you hadn’t noticed it was your turn to order with all the thoughts running through your mind. You looked at the waiter, glancing at Giselle.
“Si me haces el favor, una gaseosa,”
Giselle didn’t seem fazed by it. but something was off about her. Something was very, very off.
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“Karina,” you called, walking into her office. She seemed to be writing something down. Most likely something about funds or money. She did have people in the banks to clean her money for her, but she didn’t like others running her finances. Too much of a chance for embezzlement. A part of you liked she was smart with her business.
“Winter told me you called for me?” You murmured, leaning against the side of her desk, tilting your head, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Ah, yes,” she affirmed, turning in her chair to you. “I have a job I need you to complete. You’ll be going with Winter,” she informed. “It’s nothing that difficult. You’ll both be going on some runs. It’ll just be delivering a few.. products, to a contact. It’ll be a long drive, maybe a few hours. She’ll come get you at four in the morning, exactly,”
Your face stayed carefully blank, but you plastered a content smile onto it. “Of course, I’m glad to be of any help. Speaking of help, Karina, you seem a little stressed..” you smiled wider, voice imbued with a sultry tone.
Karina was honestly a bit foolish. Smart with money, bad with people. Perfect for you.
She still suspected nothing, you thought, as she kissed you, hungrily.
the night ended with her paperwork left unfinished, and you asleep in her bed.
Winter was probably not going to be happy.
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Winter was waiting outside the room for you, arms crossed and leaning on the wall. You had dressed into something casual— just jeans and a shirt. You glanced over at her with a blank expression. “What do we need to deliver?”
She seemed to be thinking, before pushing off the wall, and beginning to walk. You followed.
“Guerrilla wants some weapons. We’re just there to deliver,” she muttered, cigarette hanging half out of her mouth, unlit. You made your way to the car, getting in the passenger, the supplies in the back. “It’ll be a long drive up the mountain. Let’s try not to get stopped, yeah?” She muttered, starting the ignition.
You drove in silence, for a bit. The humidity of the air was starting to get to you. You hated the heat.
Winter didn’t talk to you, much. You didn’t think she liked you. You were pretty sure it was because she believed you weren’t worthy to be in the gang— you were just Karina’s plaything.
you didn’t really care what she thought, though. You had a job to do.
after a few hours, you had made it sufficiently up the mountain to the trade-off point. You stepped out of the car.
It was still foggy, from the rain and the altitude. You almost felt a bit lightheaded— but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. The plants and mosquitos were certainly bothersome, but you said nothing. Helping Winter lug up all the weapons was definitely hard— you weren’t very strong. Winter stared at you in annoyance, mumbling curses, most likely about you, under her breath.
the trade off was successful, but then, yet again, you had to make your way down the mountain with duffel bags of money. It was heavy. Putting it away in the trunk was simple enough. You collapsed back into the passenger, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You felt gross.
“Why was that so heavy?” You muttered, under your breath. Winter closed the door of the driver’s side.
“It’s not that heavy, you’re just weak,” she spat, annoyed. “You made us take an extra half hour. You’re not efficient,” she continued.
“It’s hardly my fault, Winter! This was my first job, I don’t-”
“I don’t know why Karina thought it’d be a good idea to let you help, you’re absolutely shit at it,” she retorted, acidly. “The only thing you’re good at is being her whore,” she cursed, as a snide closing remark.
You turned to her as she drove. You may be making sacrifices to get information, but Winter had no idea what you were working towards. It was an insult to your pride. Yet, you couldn’t think of a retort.
“I’ll work harder,” you muttered. “I want to be useful,”
she scoffed, but at least you said you’d try. She still didn’t like you, though. “Face it, sweetheart,” she began. “You’re not cut out for this life,”
When you arrived back to the warehouse, Ningning spotted Winter before you. You were taking some of the bags out, but could still here from the inside.
“Kim Minjeong! What took you so long?” She chided.
Winter rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Quiet down, Ning. Karina’s toy isn’t supposed to know our names until she proves herself. And anyway, she’s nearly useless. She’s the reason I took longer,”
you obviously pretended not to hear as you hauled money bags inside.
Two names down. Two to go.
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Giselle and Karina were two harder to find out then the other two. You were sure with enough time, Karina would tell you her real name. She seemed on the verge of it, anyway, with how much she wanted to hear it fall from your lips.
Giselle, though.. you had no contact with her. She was always off, managing distribution or making sure people stayed in line. You never saw her around much.
but slowly, you began to become part of the group. You mostly helped on small runs, with either Winter or Ning. Ning didn’t really care what name you called her, writing it off as semantics that didn’t matter. Winter, of course, took herself very seriously, so you continued to have to address her formally. She was such a pain, but honestly, you didn’t mind much.
what you had to focus on now, most of all, was getting Karina to trust you.
that came in the form of another run. Although this time, it went so, so wrong.
You were meant to drop off a shipment near Medellín. You didn’t think anything would happen, really— the mountains were a bit far out from Bogotá, and it was closer to the border anyway.
You had been given a gun. It was handed to you by Ning a few weeks prior, under the orders of Karina. You knew how to use one, and no one asked why.
the drive there was mostly silent. Winter still wasn’t very warm to you, yet, she didn’t hate you. You had begun to earn your place, and she respected the effort, if anything.
You drove, and the closer you got to the warehouse, the more dread washed into your bones. “Winter,” you called, under your breath. “I think we’re being watched,”
“We’ve been down this route a million times, y/n. We’re fine, no one would-”
a gunshot rang out through the silence.
It missed Winter by a centimeter, hitting the windshield. You cursed the fact these jeeps didn’t have roofs or side-door windows. Minjeong sped up, of course— if she braked they’d fire again. It was all a blur, from there. You got out of the car, your back against the corrugated metal of the drop off point’s doors. You stared around you, pointing at an old building. “There, Winter- it’s a-”
“Snipers,” she finished, eyes wide with panic. “Hijueputa! I fucking knew we should’ve stayed away from Medellín-”
“No fucking time for that, Winter, get down-”
bullets cut through the air. You dragged Winter behind the Jeep’s metal body, looking over it and shooting wherever the bullets rained from.
there was maybe three people, four, even. Winter focused on the right, you focused on the left. You only had a pistol on you, but luckily you had enough rounds. You aimed straight at one man’s head— it was a straight shot, and you saw the blood spew out from his forehead. It was a mess of blood and bits of brain as far as you could see, his body slumping over the sandbags where he was hiding. They turned red, quickly.
You peeked over the jeep, again, about to shoot the second man on the left when—
a sharp pain was felt in your right shoulder. The force of it sent you nearly falling back, but you caught yourself. You looked straight ahead.
the sniper.
You were panicking and filled with adrenaline— you set the gun on the other man, watching him rise slowly, and—
straight into the neck, blood rushed out of the wound, and you heard a disgusting gargling noise. Blood, in some areas, was highly pressurized— it would shoot out like a fountain.
Winter had managed to shoot the sniper, finally, which was a miracle considering the distance. Right now, you didn’t care about the logistics of how, all you knew was that this was a trap. More people were coming. “Winter, we have to go,” you demanded, looking over at her.
She was bleeding from her thigh and side. Fucking hell.
you shoved her into the passenger seat, ignoring the warmth you could feel trickling down your shoulder, the way it hurt to move your arm. You started the car, and drove straight out of there. You drove as fast as you could, making it back in just around two hours and a half. You had tied your jacket around Winter’s leg, and her own around her side, the other girl groaning in pain throughout the ride. “Ya, Winter, cállate!” You spat, stressed and frazzled. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be okay-” you continued, clenching your jaw to not scream from the burning in your shoulder.
When you made it back, you stumbled out of the car, glass shards all over the hood, opening the doors. “Ning,” you called, knowing she’d always be near, most likely cleaning some blood after an interrogation or packing some coke. “Ning, it was a trap- help, please, Winter got shot,” you continued, calling out desperately. Ning appeared a few seconds after, eyes wide, rushing to the car. She helped Winter inside, laying her on the couch. She had lost a bit of blood, but the bullet hadn’t hit a major artery. You knew the bullet shouldn’t have hit her heart, either. Ning looked at you, seriously. “Go get Karina. And Giselle,”
you did as told.
you rushed to Karina’s office, the older woman looking at you with a bored expression, gaze lingering on your shoulder.
She didn’t ask any questions, just raised an eyebrow. “It was a trap,” you replied, panting, ignoring your own bleeding shoulder. “Winter.. she needs- she needs a hospital,”
Karina looked unsurprised. “Oh, yes,” she replied, holding your gaze. “How unfortunate of an event,”
Her words were.. slow. Almost mocking or sarcastic— you didn’t have time to decipher what they meant. She brushed past you, making her way to Winter, calmly
“Ning, how bad is it?” She questioned, leaning over the other girl’s body. There was no hint of worry or concern on her face, just curiosity.
“Not fatal, but serious. It didn’t hit the femoral artery, but I suspect it either fracture or grazed her femur. For the side wound, I don’t think it hit anything major, maybe a rib, but no organs. Even so, she needs medical attention now, Karina— speaking of, where is Giselle?” She continued, exasperated and stressed.
“She should be on her way. She was coming back from a job, already. She should be here soon,” was Karina’s nonchalant reply.
you decided that she couldn’t really be waited on, and Karina was clearly unhelpful.
“Do you guys have an operating table? You know what— get me a table. Just get me a table,” you demanded, reaching for some surgical gloves.
They laid Winter on the table, turning on all the lights. You positioned a lamp right over her, and stared at the bullet wounds.
there were only 2. You could do this, you had been taught first aid. This couldn’t be that hard.
You began to clean the wounds with running alcohol and cotton balls, trying to wipe away the blood that wouldn’t stop, and clean the wounds. You had grabbed a pair of tweezers, planning on just yanking out the bullet yourself when Giselle slammed the doors open, staring at the scene in shock.
“What the fuck are you all doing?” She shrieked, rushing over and moving you away. “Do you have any surgical training at all? You could kill her!” She exclaimed.
“Well, you weren’t exactly coming very quickly,” you retorted, now insulted. “I’m sure it’s not that hard to remove a bullet, just take it out-”
“Are you an idiot?” She exclaimed, shocked. “Get out of the way, this is why I’m here. I’ll deal with this,”
she pushed you away, putting on her own pair of blue surgical gloves, and a mask. She moved the lamp to the wound on Winter’s chest, inspecting it. She took hold of the tweezers, cleaning the wound once again with an alcohol wipe— but there was no time for painkillers. She extracted the bullet carefully, holding Winter down so she wouldn’t squirm and hurt herself, followed by her stitching up the wound. It took around twenty minutes for the bullet hole to be stitched up.
she repeated the same process with the second, before cleaning the wounds, again, and beginning to wrap them with gauze. Winter looked pale, and in pain, but she tried to show no sign of it on her face. Once Giselle finished with her, she turned over to you.
“Sit,” she instructed, voice flat and providing no room for judgement.
Karina had shrugged, disappearing back to her office, while Ning had left to go help Winter, leaving you alone with Giselle. She removed your shirt, unclipping your bra with practiced ease, and inspecting the wound. It had started to really hurt, now, the adrenaline having worn off.
“Don’t you have painkillers?” You asked, petulantly.
“No,” she muttered back. “You can handle it. You’re part of a gang, now, there’s going to be pain,” she reminded, harshly.
She cleaned the wound with alcohol, a hiss leaving your mouth at the sting. Your breath hitched when the tweezers made their way into the wound on your shoulder, clenching your jaw in pain. Giselle looked at you, coldly. “Don’t scream,” were her final words before she removed the bullet, cleanly, in one piece.
you gasped in pain, breathing heavily as the wound began to bleed again. Giselle held your other shoulder, keeping you in place as she sewed it shut, cleaning it again, and wrapping it with gauze. “Fuck,” you hissed, wincing at the sting of alcohol.
“Stop squirming,” she growled, and it made you sit still, albeit breathing hard and cursing under your breath. She handed you two pills— painkillers— and a glass of water, after the fact.
“Don’t take baths, you’ll reopen the wound, make sure to shower. Someone will have to help you redress the wound and make sure it doesn’t get infected. Karina isn’t good with wounds, and Ning will handle Winter. I’ll keep an eye on you myself,” she muttered, and it felt more like a threat than anything.
you took the pills, drinking the water to wash them down.
you glanced over to her.
“What are you, a doctor?” You asked, curious albeit a bit sarcastic.
“Yes, technically, I am,” she responded back, flatly. “Worked in el campo for my residency, saw the Guerrilla, saw the way people were living— got into this business, just as it started. That’s all,” she finished, succinctly.
you felt like the story was too practiced. Too simple. You began to suspect that something was off with Giselle— something most definitely was. The way she was never with the rest of the group, her detachment, her strange accent— she was suspicious, and it occurred to you that if you could reveal whatever it was, you’d secure yourself a spot in the gang and officially cement your place, as well as weakening the structure and trust of the organization. It was perfect. This was a great chance, an amazing opportunity. You were sure to take it.
That is, of course, if everything went according to plan.
(It never did)
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You couldn’t shake the feeling that Karina had something to do with this. She seemed so dismissive, so.. unimpressed. What was it? Why was she so cold?
You sat at the edge of Winter’s bed, the other girl listening to your ramblings and theories half-heartedly, dazed. Ning was leaning against the wall, the both of you speaking lowly, so as to not be heard.
“She was testing you,” Ningning informed, after mulling on it for a bit.
“What?” You blinked, the words like a shock to your system. “She sent one of her men— along with the newest recruit— into a trap, with only two pistols against a sniper and three other men, all to test.. no, why would she do that? She wouldn’t endanger her own members,” you dismissed, shaking your head.
“She would,” Ning informed, flatly. “Karina’s our boss, yes, we respect her. But she didn’t get to where she is by playing nice,” she reminded. “Karina will do whatever she has to do to ensure her business, first and foremost. That is what is the most important to her. Plus, the government has been far too close to us, lately,” Ning scoffed, shaking her head with her arms crossed. “She’s probably become more careful— which isn’t good if you’re new. You’re probably in for it,” The dark haired girl guessed, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we got dragged into it, too. We’re disposable. Just pawns in this game,” she continued, pushing off the wall and reaching the door, hand resting on the handle. “But I hope you make it out,” she added. “You’ve been helpful,” was her final compliment, before she exited.
You stared at your hands. You had thought— genuinely— that Karina was kind, maybe misunderstood. You really thought you were smarter than her.
you now realized that Karina was extremely intelligent. She didn’t care what sacrifices had to be made— she’d protect what was hers, what she’d built. Worst of all, she might even know you were an informant already, she might just be playing with you.
you had walked right into the lion’s den, without even knowing. All the while, you thought you were one step ahead, that you were in control.
your head fell to your hands, a choked sob leaving your body.
you were going to die here.
Every single one of you was going to die here.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 6:25 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
it had been a week since the incident. Winter had given you her real name— Kim Minjeong. Why? She said you had earned it, after saving her life.
Things had been tense, to say the least. Ning was considerably angry with Karina, which the older girl did not like. Giselle had been speaking to Karina more often, yet, she was also out the same amount of time.
Minjeong had told you that there had been talk of working more closely with the guerrilla, and that information worried you. The guerrilla was already enough trouble on its own— with the resources from the cartel, it’d be a horrible force for the government.
It was early November, already, and Giselle had seemed beyond tense, pacing whenever you caught a glimpse of her in her room, always thinking to herself, it seemed.
she was changing your bandages, now, a distant look on her face. The movements were practiced, almost like she was working on autopilot.
“Hey,” you called. “Giselle,”
“What?” She responded, flatly. “What is it?”
“Why do you seem so mad lately?” Was your question. She kept a blank, annoyed look on her face. She continued to clean your wound, but eventually responded. “Nothing. Just some negotiations that have been going in circles for days, now. Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, stepping back once she had finished, moving to get some gauze.
“Really?” You hummed. “Anything to do with the guerrilla?”
Giselle stared, clenching her jaw. She began to bandage you, but spoke lowly. “Don’t talk about them. You have no idea what they’re like. You shouldn’t know any of this, anyway. I’m sure Karina wouldn’t like that,” she added, dangerously.
After the events that transpired on your last run, you had grown wary of Karina. You tried not to make it obvious, but everyone could tell, and the girl delighted in it. She loved the power and control, of course. Her smile was unsettling.
you quieted, after that comment. Giselle finished bandaging you, stepping away. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” she advised, but took a second to add something on. “Don’t worry too much. I don’t think she’ll kill you,” Giselle paused, a smile blooming on her face, “Yet,” she added, walking out.
Not very comforting in the slightest, but you should figure out what you could while you were here. You sighed, laying back on the bed.
Giselle was definitely lying about something— you just needed to find out what.
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The guerrilla had led a siege on el Palacio de Justicia. It lasted two days, with many deaths. You saw the current news on it, even contacted your people in DAS about it— they had strictly warned you not to unless information was found, but those were your people. They could’ve died.
Giselle watched the news over your shoulder, or listened to it while she fixed your bandages. Minjeong had been getting better, too, her leg much better. Ning watched as well, her arms crossed.
Karina didn’t comment on it. Almost like she knew it would happen.
a suspicious amount of money was given to the guerilla by Karina a few weeks prior. You felt a shudder run through you, which Giselle responded to with a bark of “Stop squirming”.
later, Karina called you into her office.
“Y/n,” she smiled, tilting her head. “You seem.. on edge. May I ask why?” She was being overly formal, and it unsettled you.
“Ever since the attack, I keep feeling like it’ll happen again,” you began, rambling— it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The fear in your eyes and shakiness of your movement confirmed that, at least, it was partially true. “Im scared, that they’ll come here, and kill us. I don’t know what to do,”
Karina’s smile stayed in place, as she ushered you to sit down on the couch, there. “Don’t worry, corazón,” she assured, a hand running through your hair. You began to relax— maybe she wasn’t so scary, after all— It was understandable, maybe it wasn’t actually a test, maybe-
“As long as you’re loyal, nothing bad will happen to you,” she continued, hand tightening in your hair. “If you were to sell us out, then, you understand. I couldn’t promise your protection,” her hand strengthening its grip on your hair, speaking into your ear.
“Now, why don’t we get your mind off it?” She offered, looking into your eyes with a faux-sweet expression.
you complied, obviously. Despite the fear, there was a part of you that was drawn to her. She was threatening to kill you if you betrayed her, yet, you still kissed her, desperately.
she kissed back, of course, hungrily and heatedly.
That’s how most of the both of your talks ended, anyway.
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1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 12:01 AM Location: una discoteca Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
It was 1986, now— had just turned into the new year. You were at a club, celebrating another year alive.
You had no idea where the other three girls went, thoroughly tipsy and entranced with Karina.
Karina was a bad person, you knew this. She was ruthless, and you should be scared of her.
but right now, with her hands on your hips, in the flashing lights of the club, you couldn’t quite remember that.
The two of you stumbled into the quieter, back parts of the club where there were rooms. Karina knew this place better than you, anyway.
it was still loud, and you could barely hear anything. She pressed you against the wall, tugging your hair, beginning to suck and bite at your neck.
she was most definitely drunk, you could tell by the flush to her face and how her words were looser than normal.
You knew you should’ve taken advantage of this, but you couldn’t. Your body felt hot, and instead of finding information, like you should have, you fell right back into Karina like a rat to a glue-trap.
you were pathetic.
and you knew it.
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1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:23 AM Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
Karina had called you into her office, except this time, Giselle was there.
You were beyond exhausted, but did not complain.
They were both intimidating. Giselle was staring at you, coldly, arms crossed, while Karina had an amused expression on her face, grinning, head tilted into her hand.
“Y/n, I have a job for you,” she called, in a cheery voice.
“It shouldn’t be too hard, but you’ll be working with Giselle from now on. It’ll be good for you,” she continued, standing up and walking towards you. “She’ll keep you safe— won’t you, Gigi?” She asked, almost mockingly, a saccharine expression in her face.
“You’ll have a body by the end of the day. That’s all you want her for, anyway,” Giselle retorted, irritated.
“How great! Come now, y/n, Giselle will explain,” Karina beckoned, quite happy today. Some expansion into the U.S. had gone well, you knew that much, but there was no reason she should be so.. animated.
Karina handed you a semiautomatic pistol, which you stared down at. She then smiled, handing you a small box of bullets. She still kept a smile on her face, remarking, “You know, these are special. They’re hollow point bullets— Ningning made them,”
“What? She made them?” You knew of hollow-point bullets, they weren’t a secret, just uncommon.
“Drill a hole into them, cut an X to make some petals, and there you have it— well, I’d ask Ningning, of course, I’m not a weapons specialist. It’s quite easy,”
“But why? They don’t-”
“Effectiveness. They leave a bigger exit wound, and leave shrapnel inside the body at times,” Giselle interrupted. “In other words, pain. They’re used to inflict pain,”
Karina smiled, sadistic as ever, as she watched Giselle load some rifles.
“Today, we have a few hits to get done,” Giselle informed. “You’ll be coming with me. You know how to shoot a rifle?” She asked, glancing over at your horrified expression.
“No, I-”
“What about a pistol?”
You nodded.
“Perfect!” Karina exclaimed. “You can help with the interrogation, then. Giselle, I’ll meet you at the location. Try not to dirty her too much, hm?” Karina advised, slinking away.
“That’s why she’s so happy?” You asked, in shock. “Because-”
“Because she gets to kill someone? Yeah, that’s why. She’s sick in the head. You knew what you were getting into,”
you stared at Giselle in silence. The other girl was grabbing some sniper-rifle that you had never seen before, and several rounds of ammunition.
she loaded it into the car, and you two began the drive.
you held the pistol in your hands shakily, silent for most of the ride.
once you got to the location, you watched Giselle pray. You had heard of hitmen praying before their job, and you still couldn’t understand. They prayed to God to protect them, yet, they were about to take a life.
“Why are you praying?” You asked, suddenly, acidly. “We’re about to kill people, God wouldn’t-”
“It’s my job,” she interrupted, which was a common occurrence with Giselle. “It’s my job, and I’m just asking Him to keep me alive until it’s over,” she spat, coolly. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do. But you will, soon. So just shut up, will you?” She got out of the car, slamming the door shut. You scrambled after her, and the both of you hauled the equipment up the boarded-up, run-down building, up several flights of stairs, finally beginning to set it up after a few stories, looking down at a busy road.
“Why are we killing him?” You murmured your question, watching as Giselle began to adjust the rifle.
“He owes Karina money, and he won’t pay it. He also stole some of our goods and has been cutting pure cocaine with some other shit, I didn’t really care enough to figure out what. His other friend is the one we’ll be interrogating. He’ll die no matter what he says,” Giselle shrugged, watching the empty street, the morning finally coming through the sky, although the dark, clouded sky blocked the bright sun.
“How long will we be here?”
“However long it takes,”
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It turns out that “however long it takes” meant almost eight hours. You were bored to death, yet still terrified. You were about to kill someone. And you had been here, waiting on edge for it to happen, for almost eight hours. You felt like you were going to burst into tears.
“Giselle, how much longer is this gonna take?” You complained, although a bit shaky.
“Trust me, I don’t want to be here either,” she drawled. “But he should be here, soon. He works near here,”
It took maybe another half hour before he appeared. Giselle saw him before you did, obviously— you didn’t even know what he looked like— but she didn’t immediately shoot. Her eyes stared down at him through the scope, her fingers brushing against the trigger. He was wide open, walking slowly without a car in the world. He stopped for a second, someone crossing in front of him—
click.
you heard the gun go off before you looked down.
Giselle had shot him perfectly in the side of the head. You couldn’t see a lot, obviously, you were pretty high up, but you saw enough.
his body crumpled to the ground, immediately, blood pooling around him. People screamed, cars stopped, and they all were looking around frantically trying to find the shooter. Giselle moved the gun and herself away from the window, to the side where they weren’t visible.
“Come on, hurry up— we gotta go,” she urged.
“Hold on, won’t they see us step out of the building? Isn’t this a bad idea?”
“They won’t catch us, there’s too much chaos going down there. Now come on, let’s go,”
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The drive to the warehouse was relatively silent.
Giselle was tense, but that wasn’t new. She always was. But she seemed almost.. solemn. Quiet.
you both arrived, stepping out of the car, into the meeting point. Giselle had her own pistol, you also kept yours on hand.
when you entered, there was a man tied there. Giselle tensed when she saw him, but said nothing. You figured it was because of Karina, standing behind him with the same placid, content smile. It was eerie.
“Giselle, Y/n! You’ve made it,” she smiled. “I take it the job went well?”
“It was all fine,” Giselle replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened,”
“That’s great, really, it’s good! I’m quite happy today, Y/n, because we have a special guest. I know I said he owed me money— in a way he does— but this is something far more important. He works with the Americans! Isn’t that just amazing?” She continued, happily, waving her gun around in the air as she spoke. “I’m sure we’ll get some good information out of him,”
“So, the both of you, come! Let’s begin,” Karina gestured to the man, in the dim lights.
you figured, well— the show must go on.
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The man was tied to a chair, that much was obvious. The floor was concrete, and there were boarded up windows and maybe one or two hanging lightbulbs. It was a bit dark.
the walls were steel, corrugated iron, and it gave a prison-like feel. the man was looking around, wildly, straining against his restraints.
“Hey,” Karina called, walking closer to him.
“You’re going to tell me everything there is to know about those Americans, okay? And then I’ll let you go. As long as you don’t lie,” she assured, pausing. “Now talk,” she demanded.
“They’ve noticed the supply into their country. They’re working on stopping it. They’ve already sent a few agents to infiltrate a few different parts of the cartel—”
“Which ones?” Was her sharp, quick reply.
“Medellín, primarily, but they’ve been looking to Bogotá. I don’t know much more than that, I don’t even know who the agents are, I-”
“Ning!” Karina barked, the dark haired girl appearing out of the dark. She held a pistol in her hand, jaw clenched, staring up at Karina.. defiantly, almost. “Won’t you be a dear and deal with him, for me?”
Ning glanced to the man. His eyes widened, and he began to thrash. “No! I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t know any agents! I don’t know anything!” He pleaded, desperately. Ning looked away, aiming the gun.
You heard a whispered ‘I’m sorry’, and she made the shot.
Through the head, perfectly center. Ning placed a hand over her mouth, the smell of blood biting and metallic, letting out a choked sob.
Karina looked over at Ning. “Now, Ning-ie, there’s a bus waiting for you outside. You’ll take that back to our meeting point, won’t you? So you won’t get caught?”
Ning nodded, wiping her eyes of tears. She went over to Giselle, they exchanged some words, hugged— she came over to you.
“Y/n.. I’m sorry. There’s no way to get you out, now. Be careful, don’t.. don’t trust anyone, don’t- just.. be careful, okay?” she advised, lowly, hugging you, still crying faintly.
“Ning, what- I don’t understand, why’re you acting like this?”
“You’ll tell Minjeong I’ll miss her, right? I wanted to say goodbye, properly, but.. I didn’t have time. I left a note,” she added, slipping it into your pocket inconspicuously, pulling away from the hug. “Give it to her, for me. You were fun to be around, I’ll miss you too. Don’t lose yourself, stay focused. It was nice to know you, y/n,”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her- I’ll give it to her- Ning, why are you acting like this? What’s going on?”
Ning smiled, laughing wetly, still crying. “You’ll find out, later. You’ll find out..”
Karina walked Ning out of the warehouse. You and Giselle trailed behind, still a few paces away. The bus was parked right outside, filled with people.
Karina hugged Ning, whispered something to her which made Ning clench her fists and cry harder— you don’t know from what.
Ning got on the bus with a smile, crying— though you still didn’t know why— and waved goodbye.
You looked to Giselle, confused, watching the bus continue on, further down the street, already maybe a mile or two away from you. “What was that abou-”
your ears rang. You heard it before it registered.
the bus had exploded.
there was carnage, everywhere. Parts of it had been thrown into different buildings. There were body parts strewn across the street, a crater in the asphalt, fire, along the metal— cars had been crushed, it was now chaos in the streets. You had almost been pushed back from the force, nicking yourself with the small, sharp pieces of metal. Karina was still standing, her suit dusty and filled with ash.
“Karina, what- what did you do?” you cried, confused and distraught yet again, feeling the tears build in your eyes.
Karina cooed, crouching down over you, thumbing the skin under your eye. “Oh, mi amor, don’t cry,” she reassured. “Ning was working with the Americans. The man in the warehouse knew, and was helping her sneak information along our supply chain! Don’t worry, the traitor is gone,” she ran a hand through your now dirty hair, cleaning a cut on your face with her finger. She smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, speaking lowly into your ear.
“I’m tired of these Americans trying to ruin my business. They keep putting themselves where they don’t belong. Don’t worry, mi cielo, you’ll be safe as long as you’re loyal to me, and as long as you listen. I know you will. Because you’re trustworthy, aren’t you?” She smiled, looking down at you.
you nodded, dazed. Karina had just killed Ning. Ning was dead. You had to get out of here. You figured hundreds were injured. You had to leave.
Giselle was even farther back, looking at Karina with contempt.
you didn’t notice, though. You were too busy watching the flames dance in the street.
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1987, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 9:46 P.M Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
it had been almost a year since the incident.
ever since Ning died, things had been different. Minjeong had been quieter, and angrier. Everything set her off, she came back covered in blood most of the time. You didn’t want to ask where she’d been— you’d just sit with her, quietly. Sometimes you heard her cry at night.
Giselle had been even more cagey, always out, defensive, on high-alert constantly.
and Karina.. well, you’d been spending a lot of time with Karina. You knew she was bad, you did, but there was something about her. It was just something about her, something that drew you in, and you hated yourself for it.
like right now. You were in her office, again, as she kissed you hungrily, hands gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.
your mind drifted. You reported back to DAS every so often, but you did inform them that you had to be very careful, that your reports would be sporadic. Truthfully, they didn’t event think you’d make it this far, do they were okay with waiting. They seemed to have several informants, anyway.
”y/n,” Karina growled, lowly, sucking and biting harshly at your neck. “You seem distracted. Focus on me, no? You promised you’d help me..” she murmured, almost a pleading sound to her voice. You weren’t stupid, though. Karina didn’t beg, she didn’t plead. This was mocking. You sucked it up, though.
you tried to focus on her, you did, but everything was beginning to get to you. DAS weighed heavily on your mind, and Minjeong’s grief did, too, and Giselle’s odd behavior, her accent, even the way she dressed— she didn’t seem like she was from here. She didn’t seem like she’d been her a long while.
“Y/n,” Karina snapped, annoyed. “Focus, will you? Or maybe you’ll end up like that bastard traitor,” she remarked, acidly, far too much emotion for the situation. Karina had been angrier lately, too. It must be the stress of the betrayal. Surely that’s why— it shook her to her core that there was a rat in her ranks. She had gotten paranoid.
the mention of Ning made you emotional, though. You felt tears prick at your eyes.
she looked down, and let out a laugh. “Oh, I love when you cry, baby,” she grinned, voice rough. “It makes you look so good. But not right now.. maybe in a bit. Stop being such a pussy,” she instructed, to which you nodded shakily.
and like that is how your work went, for a bit.
it wasn’t until late 1988 everything began to change.
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Karina had been busy, lately. A lot of men came to her office, ones you didn't recognize and some you did, vaguely, from other meetings.
Karina had been overtly paranoid about informants— It was a miracle she hadn't discovered you, yet— or maybe she had. Maybe she was just waiting for the right time, playing with you, maybe-
"Y/n!" She called, in a sing-song tone.
You entered her office, quietly.
"I need your help for another job. A big one. If you do this, then it'll officially make you a part of us! Isn't that fantastic, baby?"
Karina had her hands on your hips, the same practiced smile she always wore on her face.
"Yes.. fantastic, it really is," you replied, in a murmur. "But what will I be doing?"
"You know the DAS building, here, in Bogotá? Well, amor, we'll be getting rid of it,"
"rid of it?" You tried to school your expression, but the shock and horror was plainly visible on your face. You felt sick.
"Rid of it. As in, you know— the building. I have a few ways to make sure it stays gone for quite a while. It’ll take nearly a year, I predict, but it’ll get done. You’ll be going to a few meetings with Giselle and me to make sure you can help. Is that okay, y/n?” She asked, in a faux-concerned tone. You both knew she wasn’t asking whether or not you’d do it, you had to. It was a rhetorical question. You would say yes, either way.
“Yes. It’s.. it’s fine,” you murmured.
“Good. Now, you can go. I’m sure there’s something for you to do to make yourself useful around here,”
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MEETING ONE 1988, Medellín, Colombia Local time: 4:52 P.M. Location: a small town up in the mountains; el campo Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
Driving with Giselle was really not a good time. The songs on the radio were good, though.
the other girl was so frustrated, for some reason.
“Giselle,” you chanced. “I don’t mean to pry, but seriously— why are you so.. stressed?”
“We’re about to blow up Colombia’s national security headquarters, I think anyone would be stressed,”
You eyed her, not quite convinced.
“You know, anytime we carry out a job you’re so on edge,” you commented. she whipped her head around, knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.
“Are you accusing me of something, y/l/n?”
“No,” you replied, slowly. “Not at all,”
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the meeting took place up in the mountains.
the negotiations were mostly handled by Giselle, but she looked nearly ready to scream.
“We’re paying you what you’ve asked, just give us the supply,” she repeated, voice low.
“I think it’s fair to ask for a little more, linda,”
Giselle was seething. Honestly, these men had rifles, machine guns— you weren’t about to fight them. you took out your pistol.
you pointed it right at the 500kg of dynamite.
“Take the money,” you instructed, eyes wide. You looked crazed, most likely.
they stared at you.
“I said take the FUCKING MONEY! You think I won’t do it? We can add on 130,000 more pesos, but that’s it.”
They agreed.
Giselle was silent, in the car drive. You stared at your hands.
“You would’ve done it,” she murmured.
“I would have,” you agreed, and it came with a sick sense of realization. You would have killed everyone in there, including yourself. You would have done it. Who were you? What had you become?
Giselle laughed, one of the only times you had ever seen her show a positive emotion.
“Oh, God,” she snickered. “You really didn’t think when you signed up for this, huh?” She commented. Your eyes widened, but you schooled them back into place.
no, she couldn’t mean what you thought. She couldn’t.
“Careful, baby,” she hummed. “You don’t wanna become something you can’t come back from,”
well, that’s fucking ominous.
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Your next meeting was scheduled in the following weeks. You felt like Giselle was.. watching you. Her gaze never left you, but whenever you looked back, she was always just staring out a window, or at something on the wall. It was unnerving.
The second meeting went smoothly, but ended late. Giselle was driving once again, smoking.
“Do you have another?” You asked, suddenly, glancing at her against the dark backdrop of the night.
“Another what?” She questioned, looking over at you for only a moment, before focusing on the old, pot-hole filled road again.
“A cigarette. And a light,” you clarified, holding out a hand.
“I have a cigarette,” she confirmed, handing you one. “But no light. Sorry,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
“Oh, fuck off Giselle. Just light it with yours,”
She rolled her eyes. “Why should I? Don’t you have a lighter?”
“I didn’t bring my lighter, I didn’t think I needed it,” you shot back.
She sighed, annoyed, but complying. She kept one hand on the wheel, barely glancing at the road, lit cigarette half in her mouth, being held in place by her hand. You kept your own firmly between your lips, not wanting it to fall.
she pressed the lit end to your own, eyes dark, and you couldn’t help but stare into them.
the end finally caught a spark, lighting up, and you both stared for a second more before breaking away.
You took a long drag, averting your eyes from her gaze, glad the dark of the night would hide your blush.
“Thanks,” you muttered, gazing out into the fields.
“Don’t mention it,”
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MEETING THREE 1988, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:31 A.M. Location: Karina’s office Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
It happened so very late, and you struggled to stay awake. You felt your eyes closing, but Giselle would push you, and you’d spring back up.
Karina was arguing with a man about the price of the job. She was aggravated, he wasn’t taking the accepted offer.
The meeting had started off very casual— she even offered him some of their supply. You didn’t take any, neither did Giselle, but Karina and the man each did a line, snorting it off the table.
You watched the cross that hung from her neck dangle along the table, occasionally tapping the wood. The other man wore one as well, as did Giselle, as did you— you felt just a bit guilty about it. Hopefully, He’d forgive you for your wrongdoings. Hitmen prayed to God and so did drug lords— as did nuns, priests, politicians— all prayed, all believed. At least, most did. They claimed so.
You were shaken from your thoughts by a loud crash. Karina had pushed the man against the wall, yelling, now— “¡Me estás sacando la piedra!”
Giselle never said anything like that. Come to think of it, she cursed under her breath, you weren’t even sure what language it was. you shouldn’t be thinking of Giselle, though, not when this man seemed like he would die. That shook you out of your stationary position.
you jumped up, rushing towards her. “Karina! Karina, let him go!” You demanded, trying to pull her off. Giselle followed suit, prying her off him. Karina was panting, she looked crazed. Blood trickled out of her nose, and you wondered how much of her supply she was doing.
“You don’t understand,” she growled, clutching her desk. “Just take the money,” she began, again, and the man finally nodded. She practically threw the money at him, watching as he scrambled out. She let out a frustrated sound, slamming her hands on the desk.
“Giselle, get out. Y/n. Stay,” she demanded, not turning around.
Giselle hesitated, for a moment, it was barely noticeable.
but she left.
Karina turned to you, and like so many times before— you were truly, deeply scared. And yet..
you fell right back into her, letting her kiss you, use you, until she was fine again.
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1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 3:13 A.M. Location: An old, unused road in the mountainside Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
The meetings happened in quick succession. They took place all throughout the rest of 1988, and into early 1989. It wasn’t until September that things really began to change.
Minjeong was always out. She avoided Karina, and only spoke with Giselle sparsely.
You and Giselle were in the car, currently. The final meeting had just occurred, and the both of you had gotten tired of driving.
you were both just sitting there, with the car off. Giselle spoke, suddenly.
“How do you do it?” She questioned. “How do you put up with her?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Karina. I just.. sometimes, she’s too much. Especially lately. She’s paranoid,”
“I don’t know, I just-” you couldn’t say it was because it was your job. You couldn’t say it was because a part of you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to even reply to that. “I just do,”
Giselle seemed like she wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth. It was silent till she spoke again. “I don’t understand you. I mean, you’re like me, but.. you’re just so.. different— naive,”
“I am not naive!” You protested, even though you knew very well you were.
“Yes you are! I know you’re- I-” she wasn’t being very coherent, aggravated, fingers flexing like she was antsy.
“I’m what? What am I? Just spit it out, Giselle! I’m tired of-”
She cut you off, kissing you. You were surprised, for a moment, but quickly reciprocated. Her fingers curled in your hair, pulling you closer. You braced yourself on the dash, trying not to touch the wheel or anything else that could move the car.
“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Giselle muttered, pulling you into the backseat with her. “You just have no idea what’s going on, do you?”
You panted, now slightly confused. “What?”
“Nevermind,” she groaned, pulling you closer once again.
She pulled you onto her lap, and you snaked your hands into her hair, tugging at it, blunt nails scratching at her scalp.
You didn’t really feel bad about it, is what you’d realize later, when you were driving back in silence.
You kind of wanted her to do it again.
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You and Giselle didn’t talk about anything that had happened. Partly because you didn’t want to, and partly because you feared what Karina would do if she found out. The weeks leading up to what you found to be a tragedy were tense. Minjeong was out more often than not, as was Giselle. You couldn’t warn anyone, because Karina had such a close eye on you, lately. She just wouldn’t leave you alone.
December came quicker than you would wish.
It was night when you heard Minjeong speaking to Karina.
“Jimin, you can’t do this,” she murmured, lowly, voice laced with an unseen anger.
“Why are you so tense, Minjeong? I thought you always agreed with me..” she sighed, and you could hear her walking through the thin walls.
“I can’t let you kill so many people, it’s just- it’s insane! You’re being irrational— you’ve snorted half of your own fucking supply!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Karina— Jimin, you’ve learned— spat, and the unmistakable sound of a slap resounded through the warehouse, Karina breathing hard. You heard a struggle, and panting. “I’ll kill you, Minjeong, don’t think I won’t. I’ve kept you around out of pity— and of course, you’ve always been so obedient. Why are you so hellbent on rebelling now?” She whined, in a mocking manner.
“You killed Ningning— how am I supposed to be loyal to someone who kills her own men?” Minjeong replied, voice breathy, as if she couldn’t breathe.
There was silence.
“You’ll learn. Now, leave here. If you argue against me again, I’ll feed you to the wolves,” Jimin growled, and the sound of Minjeong hitting the floor was heard all throughout the warehouse. “Get out of my sight,”
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1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
Karina was, and always will be, a mystery.
you had found out now that Karina’s name was Yu Jimin. You had asked Minjeong, shortly after what happened. You went to sleep, and awoke to the sound of the radio, blaring.
“El edificio del Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad ha sido bombardeado.”
you woke up with a start. You knew it’d happen. But there was a sense of true hatred, in that moment.
you walked out of your room.
you walked into Karina’s office.
“Yu Jimin,”
she whipped around, smile morphing into a frown in seconds.
“How do you know that name?”
“Minjeong,”
She saw the gun in your hand.
“Oh, won’t you put that down?”
You stared at her.
She smiled, then.
“You know, I knew you worked for them,” she began, nonchalantly.
“What?”
all that work, all that secrecy— it meant nothing, in the end? She knew, she always knew?
“I saw you searching for our names. You were just so.. you seemed like you’d work for the government. And then I found that little phone you had! It’s been disconnected for years. They haven’t received a single message,”
You stared, still, dumbfounded. Suddenly, this made it all the worse. She did this, forced you to help— knowing? You raised the pistol.
“Giselle,” Karina called, and the other girl appeared a few seconds later. She stared at the scene in front of her, looking between the two of you.
“Get rid of her for me, will you?” Karina dismissed, shrugging off the threat.
Giselle slowly took out her own gun. She pointed it at you, and yet—
“Yu Jimin, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, terrorism, murder, smuggling, and-”
“What? What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened, as she shot up to her feet, gripping at her desk.
“My name is Aeri Uchinaga. I work for the FBI-”
“It was you!” She shrieked, nearly mad. “You were the mole? But you- you’ve killed in my name! Won’t you be implicit?”
“I’ll be pardoned by the state, most likely,” she informed.
it all made sense now. The strange accent, the tray she was so tense, constantly— you were a bit proud of yourself for noticing all the off things about her, but now was not the time.
you stared at Karina. You wanted to shoot her.
“She could leave,” you pointed out.
Giselle glanced over at you. “She could,”
you aimed at her leg. Just a bit off from the major artery in the thigh.
a click.
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The aftermath was severe. The building was destroyed, most of your department had dissolved. Minjeong was working with the police, you had found out— although you hadn’t heard from her since the arresting.
you weren’t sure what to do, anymore. You had dedicated so much to this— and it was all for nothing. Essentially, you had failed.
You were currently living with Aeri, actually. You were a valuable witness— you had seen and done things that would hopefully be able to incriminate Karina, more than all the other records there was of her actions.
Aeri wasn’t as mean as she had been. She was actually quite quiet— but not mean. You two spoke about it. A lot had happened, and you both lived through it. You could relate to each other.
it would take time, though.
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1993, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: Washington, D.C. Objective: . . .
It had been 4 years since Yu Jimin had been arrested. She was facing many, many charges— although you tried not to keep up with the news. There was to much going on.
currently, you were with Aeri. You and Aeri had gotten much closer in the following years— how could you not? You spent almost every waking moment together.
Aeri had some work to do, so you were waiting. It was quite simple, really.
You had been offered a position, here— in D.C. You’d work on other jobs, similar to this, but far more investigative. It sounded.. good. You’d like to help people, thats alway’s something you’ve wanted.
You were shaken out of your thoughts by Aeri.
“Hey,” she called, to get your attention. “Let’s go, they’ve got some questions to ask you before you can get hired. You know how government jobs are,” she shrugged, leading you down a winding hallway.
“Yeah,” you replied, your hand in hers. “They kind of suck,”
“They do,” she agreed, with a sigh. “They kind of do,”
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A/N: I HATE HOW THIS CAME OUT 😭😭 it took me so long but it’s done. I kind of just wanted to get it over with. I don’t have much to say, honestly I might delete this. I had a good idea for it but just couldn’t find the words to execute it. sorry </3 expect a better work soon. I’m hoping to finish up some less heavy ideas before returning to my cold war AU. In any case, asks are appreciated, and I’m open to requests! thank you for reading this mess </3 also aeri being endgame is payback for you (aettudae) making her married to a man in honeycomb. that should be ME.
EXTRA: when you read ‘mi amor’ keep in mind I’m imagining to pronounced like one word, so more like ‘mia-mor’. ‘mia’ kind of sounds like ‘mya’. this will make sense to spanish speakers.
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