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defmaybe · 2 days ago

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Anatomy of a Farewell

12 Days of Christmas: Day 7, December 31st, 2024

fromis_9’s Park Jiwon x Male Reader

3.6k words

Christmas Masterlist

All good things must come to an end.

So is fromis_9 and your time with them, especially Jiwon.

“Cheers to us!” Saerom shouts, as she lifts her glass up for a toast. Everyone at the table joins in. It’s sad, really. It’s your last day to be officially together—the New Year’s Eve of 2024—and you can only hope that the wind of fate will somehow make your paths cross again.

So, what’s next?

You’ve been here for a few years already, from an intern to a boss. It has been a great experience for you, and now it’s coming to an end. Your future is uncertain again. Maybe Woollim? Maybe WakeOne? Maybe HYBE again? You aren’t so sure, and thinking about it only puts a burden on you.

You’re sitting on the outside of the bar, contemplating your life choices with a glass of beer in your hand. The December wind blows through the air, so—cold, dry, like every December before it.

“Hey.” A sound comes from your back. It’s Jiwon, a glass of beer in her hand. A faint smile is painted on her face.

“Hey,” you reply, taking a sip of your beer. It’s so quiet out here.

“You good?” she asks, sitting down beside you. Her right arm brushes slightly against yours.

“Well, you know, farewell sorrow and stuff,” you answer, chuckling softly at your predicament. You’ll have to find a new job after this, but for the last few years here, it has been worth it.

“Me too,” she says. It must be sad for her, suddenly saying goodbye to the women who’ve been with her for the last half decade or so.

You two let the silence linger in the air for a few more heartbeats, unsure of what to say next. You glance around you. There’s Jiwon. There’s a parking van, your company’s van, to be exact. There are trees. There's sadness building up inside you. There’s–

“I’ll miss them a lot, like, a fucking lot.”

You look at Jiwon again, your chin resting on your fist, trying to be her solace. It has been working so far.

“Yeah, it’s–hard,” you say. That’s the best sequence of words you could come up with, and it’s not bad, really. “You might still see them around, at least.”

Jiwon chuckles. “Yeah, I might.”

The concept of departure isn’t exactly new to you. You’ve had people leave you in the past before. It takes a few times to get used to it, really. But after that? It’s so much, much easier for you to accept your fate.

“So, what are you going to do next?” you ask, trying to continue the conversation. You want it to go on, at least you do. Despite how you’re so used to people’s departure, with Jiwon, it feels–different.

“Hmm.” She contemplates. You think she can easily have an acting career after this. You’ve seen her act before. She does it pretty well. Maybe she might star along Gyuri, one day.

“Modelling, maybe?” she says. That also works. Yeah, with a body like her, she definitely can do that.

“Seems sensible for you.”

She chuckles softly. “Thanks. What about you? Are you staying at HYBE?”

“Uh, I don’t know, really. I got the offer from a few places already, but I don’t know where I should go next,” you reply, shrugging. That WakeOne offer seems lucrative, could help your family.

“Where is it? Tell me!” she asks, smiling. She nudges you gently with her arm. But under this intoxication, you almost fall over. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Haiya!” you utter.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Jiwon holds you back in time. You’re not losing your balance yet.

“Well–” you pick yourself straight up again, brushing off the dust on your coat “–there’s Woollim, there’s WakeOne, and uh–there’s HYBE.”

Jiwon raises her eyebrows. “I can see someone like you working with Kep1er, though. HYBE sucks, like–look at us.”

You and Jiwon share a laugh in your predicaments. Yeah, HYBE sucks for you two—too few comebacks, too little promotions.

It has always been fun talking to Jiwon like this. You’d argue that Jiheon has been the closest to you, same age and all, but with Jiwon, it feels–different. It’s something you can’t quite describe.

The laughter then transitions into the silence lingers on for a few seconds more. The two of you don’t know what to say next. It happens sometimes. Still, with her, you feel safe, you feel happy.

“Maybe I should head back inside,” she finally says, smiling softly. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

—

The night rolls on. One beer, two beers, three beers. Every single one of you is getting more and more intoxicated, so are you and Jiwon.

Your eyes keep making contact with each other. With each time, you swear that attraction starts to build up. You’ve felt nothing like this towards her. She has never been more than a co-worker to you.

Is there something going on?

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping to make the intoxication subside (it won’t subside). You open the bathroom door, wash your face, and set your hair. Then, as you look up from the sink, Jiwon appears in the mirror from behind you.

“Fuck, you’re scaring me, Jiwon,” you say, as Jiwon appears to be chuckling behind you.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, sure.”

Jiwon looks away from you, trying to form the right words. “So, I’d like to ask you–if I could stay at your place–tonight.”

Aren’t they supposed to have a driver? What is happening?

“Uh, I thought you guys had a driver?” you ask, puzzled, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, the problem is that–” she pauses, giving way to the silence as she moves closer to you, her breath is on your neck. Her right hand touches the small of your back softly, making you shudder “–except for Saerom, I can’t let anyone know I’m staying with you.”

“Oh.”

—

“Hmmph, you smell–hmm–so fucking good,” she says, peppering kisses on your neck. Her lips feel so soft. Her thighs are locking your body in your place. You can’t move, but you’re more than happy being under her restraints like this.

“It’s Yves Saint’s Libre.”

She retreats from peppering kisses on your neck with a puzzled expression. “Women’s perfume, really?”

You chuckle. “I mean–it smells good. You even said that!”

“Fair.” She shrugs dismissively before diving onto your neck again. Your body shudders in response from the pleasure and the low temperature of the room. Her hands wander around your body possessively, trying to claim you as hers (you’re already hers). She smells so good. It’s probably La Vie Est Belle, the same one your sister uses. There’s a bit of alcohol in her scent.

“Mmm, y–you also smell g–good, Jiwon,” you mutter, struggling to get the words out under this immense pleasure.

“Mmph, thanks! It’s–”

“La Vie Est Belle. Yeah, my sister uses it.”

Jiwon lets out a chuckle, clearly satisfied with your knowledge. She then pushes you onto the bed, making you land with a soft thud. It’s game time for her.

“Would you mind turning on the heater?” she asks, slightly shivering, as she dives onto your neck to plant the kisses.

“S–Sure.”

You reach for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the heater. Her lips remain busy, placing kisses on your neck. She starts to strip herself of the restrictive clothes, embracing the warmth from your heater. She unbuttons her coat (it’s a little too big for her, if you’d have to add), revealing the red blouse under. Her cleavage is showing off nicely by the collar. God, she looks so great.

“Can I?” you ask her for permission to touch her chest. She looks so damn tempting, and you just couldn’t resist it.

“Go ahead,” she allows, mouth still busy on your neck somehow.

You reach out to touch her small, firm breasts that are hanging in front of you. You figure that they’re soft to the touch. They just fit in your hand. She’s perfect, and you decide to give her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm, just like that,” she whimpers, pulling back from your neck to allow you easier access to her confined tits. Her body arches back slightly. Her blouse lifts a little to show the small of her toned tummy.

You give her breasts the treatment they deserve—grab, squeeze, knead. You’re making her moan in pure pleasure. She loves this.

“Mmm, fuckkk~” she groans. Her body vibrates under your touch. You’re revelling in the way she’s becoming undone like this. You’re revelling in the way her breasts feel in your hands. She’s so pliant, so yours.

“Baby,” Jiwon says, voice all airy from the bliss.

“Yes?” Your hands are still kneading her breasts softly

“I want–no–I need you inside me. Now.”

You giggle, quickly taking off your coat to make it equal. “No foreplay?”

“Me kissing your neck and you grabbing my tits are enough foreplay, baby,” she answers. Her voice is so light, so airy, so diluted. “I’m already fucking wet.”

You look into her eyes. They’re gleaming with unbridled desire. She wants this. She needs this. She needs you.

“Oh, s–sure,” you answer awkwardly before hastily unbuckling your belt. Your pants come off easily, and then there’s only your tight boxers left.

“Would you mind?” you ask, wanting her to be your guest in taking the last barrier off.

“Sure, why not?” she scoffs, before she grabs the edge of your underwear, teasing you, making you want more. She runs her thumbs along your waist, making you groan in the looming disappointment.

“God, thought you want me inside you,” you moan. She’s such a fucking cocktease.

“Just wanna hear you moan first” she replies, snaking her right hand under the piece of cloth. She brushes against your throbbing cock softly, making you moan to her wish.

“G–Goddd~” Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Pleasure is coursing through you. It’s electric.

Jiwon giggles, before finally pulling your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its confinement. Your legs shiver from the still-cold air of the room. It hasn’t gotten much warmer yet.

“Already hard?” she playfully asks, softly flicking your shaft.

“Just for you.”

Jiwon lets out another laugh, clearly satisfied with your witty response. “Good answer.”

A smile escapes your lips, as Jiwon is still watching your cock with wonder. She really loves it, doesn’t she?

“So–” you reach out for her chin, tilting her face up slightly to meet your eyes. She looks nothing short of ethereal tonight under your dim room light. What a woman “–what are you going to do with me?”

Jiwon smiles. “Wait a second, dumbass. Can’t I just admire him for a bit?” Her eyes go back to watching your cock intently.

“Not after you promised me a ride, Jiwon,” you reply. You have needs too, and it’s currently not being sated.

“I’m not good with promise,” she says, giggling, and you can’t help but smile at her response. She then gets up into a sitting position again, tying her hair into a bun. Holy fuck, she looks so hot with that hair.

“Please,” you utter. You really want this. You really want her.

“Please what, baby?” she playfully asks, drawing a line on your shirt. You’re quivering under her touch.

“J–Just fuck me already, Jiwon,” you answer shakenly. You’re in dire need of her pussy now.

Jiwon smiles before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding it down, revealing her drenched panties underneath. She looks so tantalizing.

“Fuck, this is cold,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Want me to be on top?”

“But you’ll get cold!” she says, concerned about your wellbeing. What a kind woman.

“I have to be a good host.”

“And I have to be a good guest!” she replies sternly. She’s so adamant about this, isn’t she?

“Get down here then, Jiwon,” you say, gesturing to her to lie on your bed. She reluctantly complies, hesitating, still worrying if you’d feel cold.

But you already have other plans.

You carefully have her lying down on your bed next to you, on her side. You take off her wet panties, slowly, rewarding you with a light, small moan and the view of her wet pussy. You then lift her leg to rest on your thighs. It’s for easy access to her cunt.

“You really are a good host,” she says, a smile forms on her gorgeous face.

“Thanks.”

You line up your needy cock with her puffy cunt, ready to fuck her properly. You look into her eyes, and there’s nothing but desire. No anxiety. No apprehension. No second thoughts. She’s ready.

“Fuck me.”

With that, you thrust your hips into her wanton pussy. Her body shrieks in pleasure and a slight tinge of pain. Your cock is stretching her out wide. She feels great, so tight, so right. Her inner walls are grazing your cock, making you moan in unbridled joy.

“Goddd~” you moan. You’re feeling so ecstatic with her pussy wrapping around you. Then, there’s the clapping of your thighs. There’s her airy moans. There’s her gleeful expression. You love this. You love the way you make her moan. You love the way you’re feeling right now.

“You feel so good, baby. So big, so thick,” Jiwon groans, eyes closed with the boiling pleasure. Her hands hug around you ever so tightly, not wanting to lose you into the cold of the night.

“Ha–th–thanks, Jiwon,” you reply, stuttering. You just cannot handle the feeling that’s coursing through you right now.

Jiwon’s expression is nothing short of pure bliss—the closed eyes, the smile, the slightly arched eyebrows. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying your cock inside her.

You continue to slowly slide in and out of her needy pussy, enamored in the feeling of her walls hugging around your cock. Electricity shoots through your body. It feels great. She feels great—the warmth, the smell, the sound. She’s perfect.

You finally catch the tempo of fucking her folds, so you start to quicken your pace by a little. Her moans become shorter and shorter. She’s losing herself around your cock.

Jiwon bites her lip, finally opens her eyes. She looks up at you with pure lust in her pupils, and you swear that this is the most beautiful she has ever looked—in your tight embrace, on your bed, biting her own soft lip.

“Mmm, fucking love this cock,” she utters without any shame, leaning in to plant a soft peck on your forehead. Warmth emanates from the spot. It feels good.

“Love your pussy too, baby,” you say, making her laugh in your embrace.

She then leans in slightly closer, staring into your eyes. Is she going to–

“I–I–” Jiwon stutters. Her train of thoughts are derailed under the pleasure you’re giving her. You feel too good.

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, drawing the tension, dragging the answer, making her restless.

“I’m already inside you, so–make that what you will,” you reply to her with a soft chuckle. Your hips are rocking into her pussy gently, trying not to hurt her.

Jiwon laughs. “No, I mean–fucking just doesn’t have enough emotions as kissing!”

“Kissing is just tongue though,” you deflect, protecting your point. She does have a point, at least, just not as strong as yours.

“Look at doggy,” she brings up her point. “You don’t have to look at each other, making it less intimate, a lot less.”

That makes sense. She just won her debate against you.

“Well, it seems that you’ve won, Miss Park.” You giggle, nibbling her chin softly. “Guess you can kiss me on the lips.”

Jiwon’s face lights up with a smile, before latching her lips on yours. The kiss is fervent. The kiss is passionate. She invades your mouth aggressively, a contradiction to the slow love making below your belts. Her grip on your face is tight. She doesn’t want to let you go.

Her lips taste like beer. It still lingers inside her mouth as you pierce her mouth with your tongue. You suppose yours probably taste the same. The kiss still feels electric, indeed. Jiwon lets out soft moans and whimpers into the kiss. God, what a feeling.

Her right hand then travels below your belt, smacking your plump ass. Your body jolts in response to the violent hit. She lets out a giggle.

Finally, she pulls back from the kiss. Your hips are still rocking down below, pounding her cunt with softness. Her face is all flushed, so enamored in the kiss.

“That felt great,” she says, a smile painting on her ethereal face.

“Me too, baby,”

Jiwon chuckles at the pet name, before starting to moan again. Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are barely open.

“Y–You’re so big, baby,” she utters.

“I–I’d argue that it’s p–pretty average, Jiwon.”

She shoots you a warm smile. “Don’t downplay yourself! Be proud of your size, alright?” Jiwon encourages you, and you can’t help but laugh at her words.

“O–Okay, Jiwon.”

You up your tempo into another ante. It has become a hammering session now. The sounds of smacking flesh echoes through your room. Sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads. Jiwon’s eyes are fluttering. She’s enjoying this.

“F–Fuckkk~” Jiwon moans, airy, diluted. Your hands wander down to her caged pert breasts, feeling them bounce in your hand. Jiwon lets out stuttered whimpers at your touch. She still feels so soft, so perfect in your hands.

“S–So good, baby,” she whimpers. She’s loving this.

“Glad I can be of help, babe,” you reply, eliciting a shaken laugh out of her lips.

The feeling around your cock is nothing short of ecstatic. Your moans are full of unpacked joy. Your cock fits into her pussy so perfectly. Her tight walls are trying to coax that white, viscous nectar out of your slit.

Her grips on your face grow tighter. Her moans become more frantic. Her breathing becomes ragged. Her muscles tense. She’s going to cum.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, baby,” Jiwon moans, as you pound her pussy with reckless abandon.

You realized that your grips on her face also become tighter and tighter as seconds go by. Your motion becomes more and more erratic down there. You’re chasing your own orgasm. You’re going to cum.

“M–Me too, babe,” you utter, so lost in the boiling pleasure.

Jiwon then pulls you into another fiery kiss. Her lips still taste like beer, but you swear that it’s like an aphrodisiac to you. Her tongue finds its way into your mouth dextrously, sweeping the insides of your mouth. Her right hand gives your ass another slap, making your whole body shudder in response. Your hands wander towards her small, firm chest, giving them a light squeeze. She moans as a reply to your touch.

Her breathing becomes faster and faster. You figure that she’s going to cum, and so are you. The all-too-familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her.

“G–Gonna cum,” Jiwon utters into the kiss. Her tongue fights yours for dominance.

“Can I–Can I cum inside you?” you ask, slightly hoping for a yes.

“I–I’m on the p–pill, go ahead, baby,” she answers, and that’s a go for you to ram into her cunt with reckless abandon. The sound of your fleshes smacking rings through the room. The room reeks of sex in this December air.

You pull back from the sensual kiss to watch her flushed face. She’s moaning. Her eyes are barely opening, fluttering in ecstasy. She loves this. She loves having your cock pounding her pussy like this.

“Th–Thanks for e–everything,” you say. Your orgasm draws near.

“M–Me too, baby.”

She’s the first to let go. Gushes of torrent are discharged out of her pussy onto you, dripping onto your bed. Her walls contract around your cock. She cries out in pure bliss. Good thing that these walls are thick.

You follow suit. Your cock shoots spurts of cum into her wanton cavern, painting her insides white. Your hips buck harshly into her. You take a deep breath as you cum. Fuck, what a feeling.

Jiwon pulls you into another kiss, invading your mouth with adeptness. Her right hand presses onto your ass, wanting you to bury your cock inside her. She moans and moans into the kiss. The sound of the wet smooches and your moans ring inside your ears.

Inevitably, your orgasms die down. Violent shots of cum turn into drizzles out of your slit. Your sheets are all wet from her nectar. Both of you are panting—tired.

The two of you lie down on the bed on your sides—exhausted, spent, satisfied. Your bodies are all flushed with red. You’re watching her glowing in the post-debauchery bliss. She looks so good. You can’t let this go. You just can’t.

“Wanna do this again?” It’s one of the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t just let it slip past your hands so easily.

“Well–” she tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at you as she chuckles “–definitely, maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘Definitely, maybe’?”

Jiwon laughs, covering her mouth. “Just a movie reference, don’t worry,” she says, patting your shoulder. She looks so gorgeous like this.

“We’re definitely fucking again, no maybes.”

—

#jiwon #fromis 9 #jiwon smut #fromis 9 smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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wonderjanga · 2 days ago

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How Do You Just Know My Parental Figure?

Marvel just knows everyone’s mom’s for some reason and gives no explanation as to how. He just does.

Supes: *shows Billy a picture of his parents for whatever reason*

Marvel: “Supes… your mom is Mrs. Martha?”

Supes: “Yes? Do you know her…?”

Marvel: “Yeah! We met in ‘61 at a pie eating competition! She was the one making the pies for the competition.”

Supes: “Why were you at a pie eating competition? Were you participating?”

Marvel: “Uh yeah? I wanted that prize money and pie. Anyways, me and her hit it off when we got to talking. Then, the time bubble happened, but when it burst, we got back in touch and we make pies together now!”

Supes: “Huh. Ma’s never mentioned you.”

Marvel: “Really? i’ve been to the farm and everything.”

Supes: “You’ve been to the farm?!”

Marvel: “Yeah? A bake pies with her and try to help around the farm. By the way, Mr. Jonathan is your dad, right?”

Supes: “Yes?? How come I never knew this…?”

By the way, Billy goes as Billy and not as Marvel because he met like a maybe fourteen year old Ma Kent as Billy at the pie eating competition. Also, Martha knows he’s Cap so since Martha knows his identity, he figured she’d told her son. By the way, whenever Jon comes he’s so happy to see Billy cause wow! His grandma never told him there was another kid here. He figures Billy was a farmhand or something. Jon’s pretty sure that’s a thing anyways.

Wondy and Marvel: *sparring*

Marvel: “You know Diana you look just like your mother.”

Wondy: *falters slightly cause that came out of nowhere* “What?”

Marvel: *takes that as his chance to grab and throw her* “Yeah, you do! I guess it makes sense since you’re her daughter and all.”

Wondy: “Wait? you’re saying all of this like you personally know my mother.”

Marvel: “I did! Several thousand years ago. We used to be best friends! Then I was selected as a champion and had to leave and that’s when of our friendship fell out.”

Wondy: “So you’re an Amazonian?”

Marvel: “No, no no no I was an Amazonian.”

That previous champ and Hippolyta were actually besties but a young Hippolyta didn’t want her to go to man’s world because then she wouldn’t be able to come back to Themyscira. The previous champ went anyways and that was taken as a sort of act of betrayal, not that Diana’s mother would admit it. Not to mention, the previous champ couldn’t even come back to apologize considering you forget the island’s location if you leave.

Reporter: “Captain Marvel, as a member of the Justice League is there anything you would like to share with us about Bruce Wayne considering he sponsors you all?”

Marvel: “No, I don’t actually know anything about the guy. But you who I do know? Patrick Wayne.”

Reporter: Pardon? Please elaborate?

Marvel: “He was a pretty funny guy. He let me be a test dummy for all his little gadgets. It was fun!”

Meanwhile…

Bruce: *sitting on his couch watching this and remembers how he did research on his grandfather, and how most of those experimental gadgets were deadly*

Patrick and Marvel were actually pretty good buddies. They were like this 🤞. Then, the time bubble happened and by the time Billy got out, both Patrick and his son Thomas were already dead. Billy got really fortunate with Martha still being alive now that he thinks about it.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics

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diary-of-a-scarlet-ibis · 19 hours ago

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Here's a fun story

In my second and final year of highschool I was out to my friends and classmates (note our class was 5 people) as nonbinary

Now I didn't really think about it much I was mostly just vibing and trying to not fail my exams so one day when I was hanging out with in my friend's homeroom a boy I had never spoken to sat next to me and asked "so are you an it then?"

I, of course was like???? Huh? Who are you??

So he explained that my friend (his classmate) had mentioned that I was nonbinary to him and he was confused by it. But it was clear that even if he was using the wrong words he was genuinely just trying to understand

So I explained they/them pronouns to him and then told him that I personally used all pronouns but some nonbinary people might take offense at being called an it

He used they/she for me for the rest of the time we were in school together and didn't ever call me a girl

Now I was never really close to him and have no idea about what he's like now but a lot of my friends started out very similar

They didn't understand pronouns or how someone could be asexual or what words were offensive to use but they respected me as a person and they learnt and grew

(and lot of them also realized that they weren't straight or cis as they learnt more about these things)

So yeah always look at the intention behind it, not just whether they know the right words to say

i feel like it's absolutely crucial in the social justice world to take "he a little confused but he got the spirit" and similar sentiments/situations as a Win. intent is so much more important than saying it right the first time! if someone is approaching with scuffed language and incorrect terms but they're visibly being as polite as they know how, that person is a friend and should be treated better than what their words might invite in someone else's mouth.

#ibis diaries #personal #rambles

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valalice · 3 days ago

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✮ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A GAMEGIRL .ᐟ ft. 𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓼.

ʚɞ summary. a collection of streamer ellie headcanons.

warnings. streamer!ellie. modern au. fluff i guess? this is basically crack. ellie's chat can't give her a break. loser!ellie also if you so fancy it. talk about a strap on but it's nothing serious. ellie fights with kids for a living. wc. 1.4k

a/n. and the crowd BOOO'S... i know, i know literally everyone to ever exist on this app has their own thoughts on streamer!ellie, but i thought it would be fun to do my own thoughts on her <3

m.list | tlou m.list

࿐ streamer!ellie who grew to stardom during quarantine. much like everyone else in the world she had a lot of time on her hands, so what's better than increasing her addiction to gaming and worsening her already bad eyesight by staring at a bright monitor in the dark? it's not like she had much school work (she did) to care about anyway.

࿐ streamer!ellie whose fan base are her biggest haters that always clown on her. many of the fans who have been around since the start still joke about younger ellie, ellie who was in high school and still cringe when she started streaming. “so, yeah i graduated college. that's the reason why there wasn't a stream on saturday.”

[user000] did you get a degree in loserology?

[user001] bro has a whole college degree and still streams 💀

“i’m talking about my accomplishments and you guys are clowning me!?"

࿐ streamer!ellie who succumbed and adopted a kitten a few years ago, a ginger one at that. her face lighting up when she realizes she has yet to introduce her son to chat. taking off her headset (for once) setting it down on her desk, “i’ll be right back, chat.” leaving her room to find where the small kitten could be.

when she comes back, she holds the small ginger puff of fur in her arms with a cheeky smile. taking the kitten in her hands and holding him to the webcam “say hello to little bro, chat. haven't named him yet, was thinking we could do a poll.”

it was best and worst decision ellie ever made adopting a cat. the best because she loves the little stinker. and the worst because anytime she's on the chat is filled with

[user002] DONTTT CAREEE WHERES RICK

[user003] show us the child

࿐ streamer!ellie who has the worst eyesight ever. she wears glasses and still squints whenever she has to read something in game or the chat.

࿐ streamer!ellie whose desk is some second hand desk she got years ago. it’s gone from place to place with her and chat jokes that it's her emotional support desk. it's often littered with pop cans, various wrappers, notebooks and sketchbooks, figurines, comic books, scratched up stickers, and guitar picks. if she's lost anything her best bet is that it's somewhere on her desk.

࿐ streamer!ellie who swears she's not a scaredy cat when playing horror games, but the moment she hears any sound she's freaking out “chat, you heard that right?” "I'M NOT GOING FUCKING INSANE!" and when out of nowhere her character is getting chased her voice will pitch a little higher “HE’S CHASING ME! HE’S CHASING ME!” when the character ultimately meets their doom she’ll deadpan the webcam, “that game wasn't even that scary.”

[user004] whatever you say bud

[user005] that clip of u screaming like a little girl says otherwise

[user006] now we all know who's dying first in a horror movie

࿐ streamer!ellie who starts to get an inflation of views on her streams from clips of her being posted on tiktok (her audios have gone viral a few times). and who rolls her eyes at all the ‘wuh luh wuh?’ comments, “is the sky blue? are there forks in the kitchen? is the grass green? i love women, women love me.”

[user007] women may have we in it but we do not love you

[user008] is the women in the room with us???

[user009] BRO NO NEED TO LIE WE KNOW U DONT PULL

࿐ streamer!ellie who's mic blows out the any time she screams from a game.

࿐ streamer!ellie who is genuinely so shit at shooting games. chat knows that within the first few minutes without a fail ellie will get shot and killed, yet they still get hyped as ellie gets focused on the game. and when she does get killed, her hands will come down crashing on her desk, causing her setup to shake before stretching out in her chair stretching, letting her hands come on top over her headset before falling down over her face.

[user010] just load up roblox bro

࿐ streamer!ellie who hits a milestone and decides to do those ‘letting my followers spend my money’ it's very short lived because chat is just as unhinged and chaotic as her. “why the fuck is there a maid’s costume? fuck no.” and when her eyes rake over the cart to see that someone added a strap harness and dildo, “YO CHAT? THE FUCK?”

[user011] now thats just sad

[user012] AINT NO WAY

[user013] guys stop being mean :/ we all know it's just going to collect dust and cobwebs :/

[user014] ellie bitchless williams

࿐ streamer!ellie who enjoys doing more laid back and casual streams like building lego sets or setting up a new action figure. she’s done quite a few cooking streams which all end in disaster, “chat is there a huge difference between baking power and baking soda?” “i don't give a fuck if i shouldn't be eating raw cake batter, salmonella fears me.” “uh, should the oven be smoking like that?”

[user015] can't believe i'm witnessing ellie burn down her place in real time

or even once in a blue moon an outside stream.

[user016] ayeeee the gremlin is out of its dungeon

[user017] how does it feel to see sunlight again?

࿐ streamer!ellie who rarely post besides the casual spam of her stories, but is somehow extremely chronically online.

࿐ streamer!ellie who got banned from her mic privileges in roblox and later completely banned. all because she has no self restraint when arguing with little kids, “your avatar is ugly.” some random kid would say, “yo daddy is ugly.” ellie would bite back. and when she finds herself in yet another shooter esc game and a kid thinks it's smart to say "your aim is butt!" ellie’s retaliation to the critique is “that's not what your mom said last night you little fucker!” then shooting the kid’s character.

[user018] kid sounds like he's 8 MAX

[user019] ellie desensitizing these kids young

[user020] TO A CHILDDDD?????

[user021] bro can only get a kill if it's a child

࿐ streamer!ellie who thinks all her jokes are knee slap worthy, but her chat couldn't be less phased.

[user022] pack it up

[user023] 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅

࿐ streamer!ellie who met you in a lobby when she's coincidentally not streaming, her team needed one more player so she shot her shot, “uh, hey,” she's totally cool right now, her palm totally isn't sweating off of her mouse “would you like to join my team? we just need one more player.” and she plays it chill when you accept “cool, cool. thanks.” but afterwards she put herself on mute and jumped out of her chair, all while her phone is blowing up with text from the groupchat.

࿐ streamer!ellie who tells her chat about it the next time she streams. “had a pretty girl on my team. i've never seen her, but i don't need to. i know it in my soul, it's my spidey sense.”

[user024] u sure u weren't dreaming???

[user025] didn't happened unless we have proof

࿐ streamer!ellie who hopes she'd see you in another lobby, but in reality it's probably a few weeks or months before she notices your handle in a lobby again, but she's always on the lookout for it. and when she does she thanks whoever is out there that she's streaming. she's solo playing this time so there's no opportunity for her to be on a team with you again, but she swears she could ascend into the heavens when you giggle at her wishing you luck in the game, covering her face from her webcam to hide that her face is turning bright red, "good luck to you too."

[user026] we all know she needs it

[user027] OKAY ELLIEEEEEE WE SEE UR GAME

“chat, i’m threw the roof. calling it know we're winning this.” ellie in fact did not win. she yet again got killed in recorded time, by none other than you. she couldn't even be upset over it “pretty and talented, damn.”

[user028] bffr u were her easy kill

࿐ streamer!ellie who by the end of it you initiate a conversation with her “i would apologize for killing you, but i just couldn't help myself.” “oh no, no. it's no problem. i’m shit at this game, it's all good.” "well maybe you could get better if we play together more?” and chat could just see the wheels turning in ellie’s head “uh—” her voice fucking cracked, “shit, yeah!” realizing she's getting a little too excited, so she's gotta tone it down “that would be cool.” smoothing a sweaty hand on her sweats. to say her chat explodes is an understatement.

[user029] WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY

[user030] WINNERS LOVE WINNING

[user031] U BETTER DUST OFF THAT STRAP!!!!

#𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 alice writes.#ellieྀི txt.#the last of us #tlou pt 2 #tlou x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #lesbian #wlw

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luvyeni · 2 days ago

Text

⚔️… ( drabble ) fantasy ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 정성찬 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ fulfilling both yours and sungchan fantasy ヾ

perv!sungchan・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・‎ public sex , unprotected sex, exhibition wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. freak!sungchan who ends up taking needy!reader even in her classroom because she’s ovulating and because he thinks he might be a secret exhibitionist 🫣

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy <3 !

before entering a relationship with you , he’d often fantasize about you while he sat quietly in the back seat and you in the front minding your own business. the thought of taking you right there in the class ran through his mind often; he’d just lift up your already short skirt and fuck you in front of everyone. the thought of you screaming for him and everyone watching made him hard , rubbing himself, biting his lip so the professor or anyone — especially you wouldn’t hear him moan.

that was before he entered a relationship, before he knew that you were always watching him as well but he was too into watching you to notice you we’re watching him; and that you were a perv just as much as he was , and that both of you shared the same fantasies of fucking each other in public.

which sums up your current situation; his hands in your skirt , his fingers stuffed inside your cunt, scissoring you open as the professor spoke. your head pressed against the table to hide your readable pleasure face. after entering a relationship, sungchan came to realize you're a sex addict, even more than he was and you were constantly needy , especially when you were ovulating. when it was that time of the month all you wanted was him, it didn’t matter where or when , you wanted him — and he would happily give it to you.

“mrs. ___ ?” the professor called out your name, sungchan stopped his movements and you shot up. “yes?” your face was hot. “am i boring you?” you shook your head. “n-no sir.” you stuttered out, your hips betraying you , grinding down on sungchan a fingers. “j-just a headache.” you toned out his lecture once more as sungchan curled his fingers. before he could finish the bell rang. “well time is up , everyone have a good day.” the professor collected his things leaving out the room, the few students who decided to attend also leaving , leaving you and sungchan all alone.

“fuck chan.” you moaned as he quickly sped his fingers up the moment the last kid left. “you’ve been dripping in my hand for an hour.” he said. “my hand was stuffed inside your pussy the entire class, i made you cum three times already and you’re still so needy?” you nodded. “i need you inside me.” you mewled. “please fuck me.”

he wasted no time; pulling you up, bending you over the desk. “look at that.” he bit his lip pushing your skirt up. “you’ve made such a big mess already.” he pulled your panties to the side. “no need to prep you anymore , you already soaked the chair and your pretty panties.” he wanted to bury his face in between your legs but he knew there was no time. “can just slid right in.”

unbuckling his pants with one hand, using the other to hold both your hands behind your back. “put it in channie.” you pushed back on him, unable to hold back anymore, he slipped right inside you. “oh fuck.” he cursed gripping your wrist tightly, fucking into you. “so fucking tight.”

he was in heaven, trying not to moan loudly since people could still hear; even though he wouldn’t mind , that was his dirty dream. “fu-fuck , dreamt about this moment for a long time.” he groaned. “taking you right on this table for everyone could hear you scream for me.” you moaned , clenching tightly around him. “me-me too.” you stuttered , he cursed. “yeah?” he slapped your ass , watching it bounce against his pelvis. “i bet you did , because you’re just as nasty as me.”

you moaned. “yo-you’re nastier.” you stuttered out. “really?” he said. “and whose being fucked dumb in public like a slut right now.” he bent down biting your ear. “fuck !” he grabbed your cheeks. “you’re drooling on the table right now , your eyes are crossed and you’re moaning like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t want someone to walk in and catch us?” he hissed. “ch-chan im gonna cum.” you yelled not caring if anyone heard you. “yeah , gonna make a even bigger mess on the floor.” he pressed his chest against yours. “cum.” he whispered into your ear , sending you into a shockwave of pleasure as you came.

“yes , fuck fuck fuck.” he gasped chasing his orgasm. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” his grip on your ass as he pressed against you, cumming deep inside you with a groan.

he slipped out of you , covering your puffy cunt with your panties , he groaned. “gonna eat that pretty pussy as soon as we get back to your dorm , then I’m gonna make you cum on my cock again.” he said.

you both are a couple of sex addicts when it comes to each other.

©️LUVYENI

#riize x imagine #riize x reader #riize smut #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #riize drabbles #sungchan hard thoughts #sungchan hard hours #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #sungchan smut #sungchan fanfic #sungchan scenarios

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demonic0angel · 2 days ago

Note

"What's up with Red Hood?"

"Him and Wolf got into an argument, and now the drama king is lamenting that their love life is dead."

"Is it?"

"Only if one of them died."

(🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃)

“What do you mean?” Goon 1 asked.

Goon 2 and Goon 3 shared a look and then looked back at him. “Oh yeah. You’re new to this gang, right?”

Goon 1 nodded nervously. “Yeah. I joined a few weeks ago. What do you mean by Red Hood’s love life? Is he dating Wolf?”

Both Goon 2 and 3 grimaced. It was Goon 2 who said, “No. It's even worse. Because they’re in love and not even dating.”

Goon 1’s eyebrows rose. Then wanting to know more of the tea, he asked eagerly, “Really? Why’s that? Is it unrequited? What’s happening?”

He paused, remembering where he was, before he glanced nervously to the side where Red Hood was flattening himself across the table dramatically. He was still bemoaning his fate and giving recited soliloquies to himself. It was clear that he was trying to lure out Wolf, who had went into another room to cool down.

It had been a little confusing and worrying earlier, but if it was love troubles, then he could completely understand!

Goon 3 leaned closer and pointed a thumb at Red Hood subtly. “Our boss is awesome and he knows almost everything, but he’s too gentlemanly to pursue Wolf!”

Goon 2 also leaned in. “And Wolf is just as bad! She does anything and everything to help him and they’ll flirt all the time, but I think the helmets are making them blind! They can’t see the fact that they both want to date each other even if it slaps them in the faces!"

"It's like watching a train wreck! They're so in love that it's disgusting but they're both too afraid to make the first move!"

They all glanced over, just as Wolf left the office room and approached Red Hood, who sat up eagerly to meet her. They talked quietly and then Wolf placed a hand on Red Hood's chest gently. Red Hood nodded happily and the tension eased.

Red Hood then turned to the rest of his gang, who were blatantly staring.

"Don't worry, children!" He said teasingly. "Your mother and I aren't divorcing anymore! We won't have to share custody!"

Wolf audibly groaned and slapped his arm, but Red Hood just laughed and corralled her to the office again, where they shut each other inside.

Everyone was silent. Then they all cheered loudly

Goon 1 stared at the closed door thoughtfully.

"... and you're sure they're not dating?" He asked through the screaming and cheers.

"Trust me, I'd sacrifice my firstborn to make them stop the flirty comments and lovesick looks."

#... yeah I didn't want to name the goons tbh #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anon ask #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jason x jazz #assistant jazz au #ty for the ask <3 #nothing makes me giggle more than jazz and jason being stupidly oblivious lmaooo

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endstar · 2 days ago

Note

She seems almost nervous… like the end herself will appear and smite her but she nods hesitantly

༄"ye… yeah… I do…"༄

She stays silent for a bit before exsplaing quietly

༄"there are… always many plans at once… there are some that are obvious in some that are… so fucking hard to pin point that you wouldn’t notice it till someone’s dead. But right now… she’s trying to drive both me and oleander out, while also biding her time. Numens need sunlight to live.. or.. we slowly lose energy and eventually just drop dead… so she’s just waiting till the both of us can’t handle it anymore and go outside. Right now she isn’t targeting the AU’s or your family… just me and oleander because if she manages to kill and consume oleanders soul it’ll triple her power and make her even more of a menace to deal with.."༄

The multiverse is full of infinite possibilities...

Most worlds tend to connect through similar builds. Through stories, people, themes...

It's no surprise seeing a stranger to the multiverse. What IS surprising, however, was his condition. Covered in deep wounds, limbs twisted and torn, and he appeared to be drowning in his own blood by the time he was found. Holy weapons were embedded in his skin, and the flesh sizzled liked bacon around it.

He had red skin, gray hooves, horns that looked far too round and circular to have normally grown out of his head. His long pointed tail is covered in hand prints, and there are bones exposed out of his back. He lays face first in a pool of his own boiling blood, barely breathing or moving.

@ask-underfazverse

Cry’s come from the mass amounts of strangers, many just back away to cowedly to do anything, but a few step up, and begin to heal him. Mainly the younger, less evil Malak’s, a few Doug’s that are just simply concerned, and only one Bierce.

Dream Malak very hurriedly takes him to his hospital, with the help of the others.

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thecuriousbeauty · 3 days ago

Note

during the early shows of the "live on tour" era, when him were still performing in theaters, harry couldn’t take his eyes off a fan while he was on stage. so he takes her to the backstage after the show (or to his hotel room).

That Special Girl- Harry Styles x reader (Fluff)

A/N:-Put a little spin to this, I hope you all like it! Thank you for the request anon, and for patiently waiting! Please like and reblog to support me, xx.

Word count: 1.7K

________________________________________

You don’t usually take this route on your morning runs, but today, you were craving those soft, buttery, warm croissants from the bakery down the street for breakfast. You definitely deserved it after your run. And today was going to be a very special day in your life, you needed to start the day right. So you didn’t mind the mild crowd you had to run through to make it to the bakery.

All you could think about was going to your first Harry Styles’ concert that evening! He was finally coming to your city and you weren’t going to let go of the opportunity to see one of your favorite singers perform live. Sadly, your best friend couldn’t go with you, so you were going alone but you were sure you’d make friends once you got there. That was also something you were excited about. Being around so many people who share your same interests.

Just as you were about to enter the bakery, you saw someone familiar on their morning run. Your eyes squinted to make sure what they were seeing was really true.

Wow, even before you got to the concert.

It was Harry Styles!

He was wearing a grey sweatshirt and blue shorts, shades protecting his eyes. You had to try so hard not to freak out, because the last thing you wanted was to be like some of those crazy fans. You admired Harry, yes, but you believed everyone, celebrity or not, should have the privacy of at least not getting disturbed while on their morning run.

He was running towards where you came from, where you knew there was a crowd, so even though you were nervous and not quite sure if the words would form proper sentences once you opened your mouth, you decided to warn him.

“U-Uh, Harry?”, you spoke as he was just about to whizz past you, and he stopped. You couldn’t read his expression very well, but you continued. “You don’t wanna run that way, it’s pretty crowded.”

While you were talking, he tapped on his phone, probably to stop the music from his ear pods. “Oh. Oh, okay.”, he said, a little surprised. He probably thought you stopped him for a photo or something. He stared at you for a few seconds, while you were wondering if you had made any mistakes in the one sentence you spoke .

“I-I’ll go back the same way, then. Thanks, love.”, he smiled, dimples popping and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were crinkling.

“Yeah, of course.”, you smiled back. “Good luck for the show tonight!”, it slipped out before you could think if it was okay to say.

“Thank you! Are you coming?”, he asks, still smiling.

“I am, actually.”

“That’s amazing. I’ll see you tonight, then, love. Gotta go now, thanks again. Bye bye.”

“Bye bye”, you find yourself repeating, and Harry chuckles before running away. You’re still in a daze as you turn to the bakery, almost hitting your head on the transparent glass door, not realizing that you have to open it. You laugh at yourself, and open the door, the smell of those delicious croissants making you beam. Today was going to be a great day.

______________________________________________

“I’ll take so many videos for you.”, you tell your best friend through a video call as you do your hair, getting ready for the show.

“You better! You look so hot, y/n, I won’t be surprised if Harry himself falls for you.”, she says, winking at you through the screen and you laugh. You had picked out a black top, with a translucent sparkly cover on top, pairing it with a silver skirt. You did your makeup minimally, except for your eyes, you put on some shimmery eye shadow. Once you were ready, you said bye to your best friend and got going.

You reach the venue, chatting up with a few girls immediately, sharing bracelets and just sharing where you’re all from. You were led to your places when the show was about to start, and you had fun while the opening act was going on. You weren’t dancing yet though, you were saving your energy for when Harry would take the stage.

And finally, there he was. The man you saw in the morning, except now he was radiating more confidence and charm. He was up there probably doing his favorite thing in the world. He looked incredibly attractive in his outfit for the night, silky light blue pants paired with a pink and blue jacket. The color combinations complimented his features wonderfully, not to mention the perfectly placed tattoos over his chest and abdomen.

You sang along with the rest of the crowd as Harry started Music for a Sushi Restaurant. Harry was running around all over the stage, and his eyes were drifting around, looking everywhere while he continued to sing. It seemed like he was searching for something, or someone.

When he gets to your side of the stage, for a minute, you feel like his eyes meet yours, and you’re not able to make sure because of all the lighting and there are a lot of people around you. But you can confirm he was indeed looking at you, because he grins as he brings his hand up and gives you a wave.

You gasp and wave back. He remembers you from the morning!

For the rest of the show, you noticed that Harry was coming to your side of the stage quite often, and even looking at you as you sang the lyrics back to him. He would even lean over slightly, almost as if he was directly singing to you. You enjoyed all the songs and Harry’s energy was infectious. He kept bouncing around the stage, cracking jokes, reading out signs, making people happy and being the man he is. During the last song, which was Kiwi, he did his little dance and you did the same with your new friend next to you, and he stopped to watch you both, amused.

“Oh my god, he liked our dance!”, she squeals next to you.

You definitely had a lot to tell your best friend.

You’re having mixed feelings by the end of the show. Happy because you had THE BEST night ever, and sad because it’s over. You were gonna have to say goodbye to your new friends, and to Harry.

Little did you know, Harry had different plans.

_______________________________________________

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even as he was running through the crowd to go backstage, escorted by the security, he was looking over to where you stood, hoping to catch another glimpse of you.

But he couldn’t find you. He was too taken back by your beauty and kindness that he even forgot to ask your name in the morning. But he wasn’t gonna give up. He needed a chance to see you again.

So he asked his security to find you, telling them where you had been for the show.

“Well this is a first, special girl eh, mate?”, Mitch teases him backstage, chugging down some cold water.

“I’m just curious to know more about her.”, Harry says, not denying what Mitch had said. Clearly everyone in his band had noticed that he was watching a particular someone in the crowd. He thought he hadn’t made it so obvious.

Harry walked around, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and Sarah passed him some water too. “Calm down, H, they’ll find her. Even if they can’t, if you really want to see her, we’ll figure something out.”

“How?”, he asked.

Sarah winked. “Leave that to me. Your fans are capable of a lot of things, you know.”

Harry didn’t question that.

To his absolute delight, security had indeed found you, and Harry rushed into a separate room to meet you, not wanting to scare you with the whole band. He thought you would probably be nervous about all of this too.

There you stood, clutching your bag in one hand, your arm covered with bracelets, and his eyes shifted to your face, seeing you up close for the second time today.

God, you were gorgeous.

Strikingly beautiful eyes that he was finding a hard time looking away from the whole evening. Perfect, soft features and your smile had him smiling ear to ear.

“Am I in trouble?”, you asked nervously.

“Oh no, sorry love, I just didn’t get your name. I wanted to thank you again for this morning.”, he said.

“Oh! It’s all good, I hate being interrupted during my morning run too. I’m y/n!”, you smile, and Harry extends his hand, shaking yours. “Hello, y/n, I’m Harry.”

You giggle, finding it funny that he was introducing himself and he can’t help but laugh. “Nice to meet you, Harry. The show was amazing, like crazy.”

“Yeah? I’m glad you enjoyed it, love.”, Harry says happily. “I didn’t spook you out sending the security behind you did I?”

“Kinda. I really thought I was in trouble for taking a shot the girl next to me offered or something..”

Harry laughs, and you smile sheepishly. “You all did shots without me?”, he asked, a fake hurt tone to his voice.

“Oh no, did you wanna do one?”

Harry shakes his head, dimples popping. “Just kidding, y/n. I just wanted to get to know you a little bit. You had my attention the whole night.”

You blush, not knowing what to reply, really just saying, “Oh..um..”

“Do you want to go hang out for a while? If it’s okay, of course. It’s completely fine if it’s not, it is late and you must have places to be-”, Harry starts rambling nervously.

“I’d love to!”, you piped up, and his grin widened. “Yeah?”

It’s true that no one believes in love at first sight, until they meet that one special person who comes along and steals their heart.

__________________________________________

Taglist: Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise @hermionelove

Let me know if you want me to add you to my taglist or if there are any changes, love you all so much.

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jeonstudios · 2 days ago

Text

dextrocardia | 16

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6.5k

warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 16/?

Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof.

It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.

Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.

It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”

She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider.

“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.

“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, “We have guests!”

With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home?

A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.

“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”

“Sana,” she greets.

“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”

Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”

You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”

You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?

“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.

Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag.

“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”

“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.

“Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, everything,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”

Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.

Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.

“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”

“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”

You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.

Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.

“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”

“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.

“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”

“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”

“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.

“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”

You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.

So you shake your head. "Still looking.”

To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.

“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”

“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”

“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”

“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”

“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.

“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”

“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”

“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.

“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”

You really don’t want to answer that.

Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.

“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.

“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.

“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.

Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”

“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”

“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”

“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”

Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.

“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”

Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.

“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”

“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.

“He’ll want to go, regardless.”

“He’s not a detective.”

“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”

“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.

“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.

Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”

A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.

The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes.

The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.

Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.

“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.

Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”

She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”

You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”

Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.

“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.

“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”

“But Jeongguk saved you.”

“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”

Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms.

You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”

“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”

“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then… does being with him make you happy?”

You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”

She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”

Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.

Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.

Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.

The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday.

“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars.

“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.

“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.

“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.

Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.

Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.

Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.

“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”

As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right.

Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.

“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.

“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”

“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”

But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?

“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup.

“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”

You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.

Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.

The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through.

“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”

As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.

“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.

“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”

“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–”

“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”

“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.

Your heart races. “So what do we do?”

“His car’s in the garage, right?”

Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.”

“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.

You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”

“Yes, boss.”

Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course.

Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.

“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything��s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“No,” you lie again.

“You’re making me worried.”

“You don’t need to be.”

His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.

After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.

“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”

You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"

“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”

Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.

“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”

Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”

Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.

“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”

“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.

“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.

You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”

For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk, trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi.

Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop.

“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.

“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.

“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”

“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.

“Mhm,” Sana hums.

“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”

The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.

“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”

“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”

“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”

“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.

“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”

“So there are no ties on paper?”

“No, no ties.”

All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.

After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.

Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.

After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.

Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.

You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”

“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”

Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”

His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.

“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”

He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”

He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”

To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.

Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”

He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”

“Please?”

You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.

“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.

Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.

He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone.

He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.

Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.

Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’

He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.

author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3

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thebestsetter · 2 days ago

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If Isagi knew his old teammate had invited him to hang out just to talk shit, he would have thought twice about coming.

"I mean, c'mon dude!" Tada, one of the players from his old team, said "You scored an excuse-me goal like that with pure luck and nothing else!"

"Excuse-me goal...?" Isagi muttered, clearly confused about what his friend meant

"Yeah! You used up all your luck on that one, not gonna lie"

If it had ended like that, Isagi would have still managed to accept it.

People have different views about his plays, so it's okay for him to think it was pure luck. He's probably just too stupid to even understand what Isagi did, even if he explained it to him.

Isagi would be just fine if his teammate didn't say anything else.

If only Tada had stopped there.

"And don't even get me started about your sudden relationship!" He said, smirking at Isagi "(Name), isn't it? Japan U-20's manager who trained the Blue Lock team for a while?" He nudged Yoichi with his shoulder "She's hot, bro. Man, you're just way too lucky! This amount of fortune should be illegal or something!"

Luck? Luck?

Isagi was dumbfounded. He didn't even react to what the guy said.

The beginning of your relationship wasn't based on his luck. If anything, it started because of how unlucky he is.

Because honestly, he doesn't want anyone to know that you two met because he entered the wrong restroom.

The restrooms were still being built in the blue lcok facility and all, so there weren't any signs indicating which was the female's one and which was the male's. Therefore, it was a 50/50 chance of entering the right one. The men's one.

Also, most people on the facility were men. There were basically only 2 girls: you, a manager who had already worked on Japan's U-20 and was just curious about the Blue Lock project, and Anri, Blue Lock's official manager. What was the possibility that he'd enter the wrong bathroom and see any of you two there?

It seemed pretty high, actually.

And he hates this story because not only did he enter the wrong bathroom, he managed to convince you this was the men's one and that the other one was for the women.

Let's just say you both ended up bounding over restroom trauma.

See? It isn't a cute, movie-like love story.

Luck? There was no way he got with you by being lucky. He fought for you.

He was the one who suggested you should be Blue Lock's manager for a short period of time. He was the one who had to build up courage to ask for your phone number after training with you for weeks. He was the one who dedicated the last goal of the match to you, all sweating and smiling.

Luck? Be for fucking real. Isagi knit the threads of fate himself until all he could see in it was your name and face.

But, sometimes, he thought about your relationship deeper. Because if he met you through his mischance, why does it feel so great to have you in his arms?

According to the dicitionary, bad luck is "an unfortunate state that results from unfavorable outcomes". When he looks at you, though, arms stretching towards him, he doesn't see any "unfavorable outcome".

Was it really bad luck, after all? Or was it all his luck dressed up as misfortune?

"Isagi? You good there, man?" Tada asked, waving his hand in front of Isagi's face

Yoichi finally smiled, looking at his former teammate after snapping out of his daydreams.

"You know what? Maybe I am, indeed, very lucky"

You know what they say: unlucky in cards, lucky in love.

But when Yoichi comes home, seeing you in his jersey, cooking for him and watching one of his old games, he can't help but wonder.

Maybe he's lucky in both.

#this is so ooc #it probably doesnt make sense lol #i dont even know if you guys can understand this #i hate this #blue lock #bllk #bllk manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #isagi x y/n #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #isagi x you

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isaadore · 1 day ago

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NEW YEAR'S JACK HUGHES

pairing jack hughes x reader

SUMMARY you meet jack’s parents for the first time on new year’s eve. word count 0.8k

warnings pure fluff!

note it's my birthday tomorrow (new year’s baby 🤞)!! think of this as my birthday present to u all (because it’s fluff and not angst for once). i hope everyone has a happy new year when the clock hits 12 in 24 hours <3 i also can't remember the last time i wrote for jack, so i hope u guys enjoy this mini fic 🤍 (also the last fic of the year!)

MAIN MASTERLIST JH86 MASTERLIST

SNOWFLAKES DANCED OUTSIDE the window as you sat in the passenger seat of Jack’s car, the heater humming softly. Your hands nervously fidgeted with the hem of your sweater. The drive to the Hughes’ family home felt endless, even though Jack assured you it wasn’t far.

“Hey,” Jack said, glancing at you with that gentle smile you’d come to love. “You’re gonna be great. They’re going to love you.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “That’s easy for you to say. They already love you.”

Jack chuckled, reaching over to squeeze your hand. His warmth seeped into your skin, calming you, even if just a little. “Trust me, you’ll win them over in no time. Besides, Quinn and Luke have already given you the stamp of approval.”

“Quinn barely said two words to me the first time we met,” you countered, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, but now he doesn’t shut up about how ‘great’ you are for me,” Jack teased, turning into a long driveway lined with trees dusted in snow.

A big, traditional home came into view. It was lit up with strings of golden lights that reflected off the fresh snow. Jack parked and turned to you, his expression softening. “Ready?”

“Nope.”

He laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe.”

As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth of the house and the aroma of something delicious cooking instantly put you at ease. Ellen greeted you with a smile that reminded you so much of Jack’s.

“You must be Y/N. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hughes,” you said, offering her a warm smile.

“Oh, please, call me Ellen,” she insisted, pulling you into a hug.

Jim appeared next, offering you a firm handshake and an easygoing smile. “Jack talks about you all the time. It’s great to have you here.”

You glanced at Jack, who suddenly pretended to be very interested in taking off his sneakers. “All good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but,” Jim replied, his eyes twinkling.

Over the next couple of hours, you found yourself swept into conversation and home-cooked meals. Ellen talked to you about everything from hockey to your favourite movies, while Jim told you stories about Jack as a kid; stories that made Jack groan in embarrassment.

“Oh, did Jack ever tell you about the time he got his skate stuck in the bench?” Jim began, grinning.

Jack groaned. “Dad, don’t.”

Ellen laughed from the kitchen, where she was cutting slices of pie. “He was so proud of those skates too.”

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, leaning forward, intrigued.

Jim gestured animatedly. “He was about eight and went to sit down on the bench, but his skate blade got wedged in the gap between the boards. The poor coach spent ten minutes trying to yank him loose while Jack just sat there, looking absolutely miserable and embarrassed.”

“Oh no!” you laughed, imagining a tiny Jack stuck and helpless.

“I’m pretty miserable and embarrassed right now,” Jack muttered, but the smile he was trying to hide was unmistakable.

“And then,” Luke interjected with a mischievous grin, “when he finally got loose, he skated out like nothing happened and wiped out right in front of everyone.”

“Luke!” Jack protested, throwing a napkin at his younger brother. “You were six; how do you even remember that?”

Quinn chimed in dryly, “There’s a picture somewhere. Mom probably has it in her stash.”

“Quinn!”

The table erupted into laughter, and you wiped at your eyes, your stomach hurting from how hard you laughed; you could feel a six-pack coming in. Jack groaned but leaned close to you, muttering, “I don’t know why I even brought you here.”

“Because you love me,” you teased, grinning at him.

His eyes softened, and despite the chaos around you, he gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I do.”

The evening continued with games, conversations, and even more teasing. By the time the countdown to midnight began, you felt like you were part of the family.

Jack pulled you aside as the others gathered around the TV. His hands rested on your hips, and his voice was soft as he said, “I told you they’d love you.”

You smiled, glancing back at his family. “Yeah, you were right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jack laughed quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. “Too late.”

The countdown began, and as the room echoed with shouts of “Ten… nine…,” Jack brushed his lips against your forehead.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” he whispered at “three,” and at “one,” his lips met yours in a kiss that felt like the perfect start to the year.

Around you, the family cheered and clinked glasses, but Jack’s arms around you felt like home. For the first time that night, you weren’t nervous anymore; you were exactly where you belonged.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ JH86 MASTERLIST

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #nhl x you #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #✷ isaadore

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kirammanswifey · 3 days ago

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《Beneath the Armor》

writer's note: writing about vi make my legs go weak fr, i crave this woman for breakfast, lunch and dinner. btw this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow its caitlyn's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, cute lesbian sex (kinda hard but not that hard), shower sex, praising kink, dirty talk because why not, mention of eating disorders, a lot of fluff, vi is such a softie with reader and we love it.

The gym is unlike anything you've ever seen before. It’s more than a place to train; it’s a cage filled with beasts, a space where weakness is unacceptable. The clash of weights and the guttural cries of effort create a charged atmosphere, thick with tension and adrenaline. You feel out of place in your oversized hoodie and sneakers that haven’t touched a treadmill in months. But you’re here. You have to be.

At the far end of the gym, she stands out like a queen in her domain. Vi. Her short, red pixie-cut hair clings to her face, slick with sweat, and her sportswear hugs a body sculpted for battle. Tattoos snake along her arms, dark ink on powerful muscles that flex with each precise movement. There’s a scar cutting across her lower lip, giving her an edge that makes your stomach twist. She doesn’t just command attention—she demands it, without a word.

She isn’t lounging at the reception desk or scrolling on a phone like the other trainers. She’s in the thick of it, standing over a hulking man at a bench press. Her voice cuts through the clamor like a whip.

"Come on, don’t give me excuses!" she growls, her tone sharp, almost feral. "Three more reps. Unless, of course, you want the whole gym to watch you quit."

The man grits his teeth and powers through, the barbell clanging as he finally racks it with trembling arms. Vi smirks—not satisfied, but victorious—and tosses him a water bottle without another word. Her eyes sweep across the room, landing on you.

You freeze under her gaze. It’s cold, calculating, and, somehow, full of curiosity. There’s no warmth in it, but neither is there scorn. It’s like she’s stripping you bare, measuring something unseen.

Then she moves. Every step is deliberate, confident, and magnetic. The tattoos on her arms ripple with each movement, as if they’re alive. She stops in front of you, close enough that you can smell the faint tang of sweat and something sharper, like steel. Her presence is overwhelming, her stature daunting, but it’s her eyes—piercing, unyielding—that make you feel like you’re shrinking.

"You’re the actress, right?" she asks bluntly, her voice low and rough, like gravel.

"Y-yeah," you manage to stammer, hating the way your voice wavers.

Her gaze drags over you, not in judgment of your appearance, but in search of something deeper. Something you don’t even know if you have.

"Alright. Are you ready to start, or are you gonna turn around and go back to whatever cushy life you came from?"

The challenge in her tone is like a slap. Your pride flares to life, stifling the nervous flutter in your chest. You straighten your spine, lifting your chin as if you’re not dying inside.

"I’m ready."

Vi crosses her arms, her lips twitching into something that might be a smirk—or a dare. "We’ll see about that. Warm-up first. Treadmill, ten minutes at eight kilometers per hour. If you can’t handle that, there’s no point in wasting either of our time."

She jerks her chin toward the row of treadmills, and you swallow hard before moving. As soon as you step on, you can feel her eyes on you, an invisible weight heavier than any barbell in the room.

The first few minutes are manageable. But as the pace picks up, your legs burn, your chest tightens, and sweat drips down your face. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, hoping for some sign of mercy. She doesn’t move, her arms still crossed, her gaze fixed on you like a predator watching prey.

"Don’t stop," she calls out, her voice cutting through the pounding in your ears. "If you can’t even finish this, how the hell are you gonna handle what’s next?"

Her words hit a nerve. Anger sparks, mixing with desperation and something else—admiration. She’s intimidating, yes, but there’s a rawness to her, a strength that’s both terrifying and magnetic. You can’t let her think you’re weak. Not her.

The timer finally beeps, and you stumble off the treadmill, your legs trembling, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Vi approaches, her boots thudding softly against the rubber floor. She stops in front of you, tilting her head as she looks you over.

"Not bad," she says, though her tone suggests she’s not impressed. Her lips quirk into a crooked smile, one that highlights the scar slicing through her lower lip. "But let’s see if you’re really serious. Battle ropes, three rounds, one minute each. And don’t give me any half-assed waves—I want those ropes crashing like a damn hurricane."

You grab the ropes, their weight a promise of pain. The first few seconds are easy, but the burn in your arms quickly turns into fire. Each movement feels like dragging a mountain. The world narrows to the ropes, the ache in your muscles, and the sound of her voice pushing you forward.

"Keep going! Don’t stop unless you want to prove me right," she barks, her voice sharp but steady.

When it’s over, you drop the ropes and collapse to the floor, gasping for air. Vi steps closer, crouching in front of you. Her hand is calloused but steady as she offers it to you.

"Decent effort," she says, her tone softer but still edged with challenge. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see something other than scrutiny—maybe respect. "But don’t get cocky. This is just the start. Strength isn’t just about showing up. It’s about commitment. Are you ready for that?"

Her words dig deep, stirring something inside you. You look up at her, her imposing figure framed by the harsh gym lights. She’s everything you’re not—strong, unyielding, fearless. But maybe, just maybe, she’s what you need to become.

"Yes," you say, your voice firm despite the exhaustion.

Her lips curl into a grin, this one warmer, almost approving. "Good. Take a minute to catch your breath. You’ll need it. This is just the beginning."

You can’t stop thinking about your mother as you change in front of the locker room mirror. Every curve of your body, every little angle that doesn’t align with her ideal, screams back at you from your reflection. “You should eat less,” she used to say. “You’ll never land an important role like that.” Her words never left. They’re tattooed on your mind, each syllable chained to the next like a life sentence.

This role isn’t something you want. It never was. But your mother wants it for you, and somehow, her voice always drowns out yours. She was a legend on stage; you’re just a shadow trying to hold itself together under her blinding light.

When you step out of the locker room, Vi is already there, leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed. Her eyes sweep over you, taking in every detail. There’s no malice in her gaze, but it’s far from gentle. She sees everything.

“Ready?” she asks, her tone edged with challenge.

“Yes,” you answer, the word more reflex than truth.

She leads you to the weight training area. The barbells seem more intimidating up close, and sweat starts pooling in your palms before you even touch them. Vi’s sharp eyes remain fixed on you, calculating.

“Today we’re focusing on building muscle,” she says, her voice steady as she grabs a barbell and starts adding weights with a precision that speaks of years of practice. “It’s a slow process, but if you listen to me, you’ll be amazed at what you can do.”

“Sure,” you mumble, though the thought of lifting anything heavier than a water bottle sends a pang of anxiety through you.

Vi demonstrates the correct form for a basic lift, her movements fluid and strong. When it’s your turn to mimic her, your attempts fall short. Your stance is awkward, your grip weak.

“Lower. You’re not engaging the right muscles,” she says, stepping behind you. Her hands land firmly on your shoulders, adjusting your posture. Her touch is professional but firm, and yet, you can’t help but tense up under her guidance.

“I am doing it right,” you mutter, not meeting her eyes.

Vi exhales sharply, taking a step back. “No, you’re not. And if you keep insisting on doing it your way, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” you snap, your frustration boiling over.

Her brow arches, her surprise quickly replaced by a measured calm. “Look, I’m here to help you, but if you can’t handle a little constructive criticism, maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

Her words cut deeper than they should. They echo everything your mother has ever said about you. Shame and anger bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be criticized all the time.”

Vi’s silence is heavier than any weight in the room. Her expression shifts—surprise melting into something more contained, almost understanding.

“Everyone’s got their baggage, princess,” she says finally, her voice quieter but no less firm. “But if you let it drag you down, you’re never going to move forward.”

Her response fuels your anger. How dare she reduce something so complex to a throwaway piece of advice? Without another word, you turn away and head for the battle ropes. You don’t need her telling you what you can and can’t do.

You grab the ropes and start moving them with everything you’ve got. Your arms burn, your legs shake, but you keep going, fueled by frustration more than anything else. Vi stays back, watching silently. She doesn’t intervene, doesn’t offer advice—she just waits.

Finally, when your body gives out, you drop the ropes and lean over, hands on your knees, gasping for air. Vi walks over, a bottle of water in hand. She offers it without a word, and though part of you wants to refuse, another part knows you need it. You take it but don’t look at her.

“Anger can be a great fuel,” she says after a moment, her voice steady but laced with something softer. “But only if you know how to control it. Otherwise, it’ll burn you alive.”

“What would you know about that?” you challenge, your eyes meeting hers with defiance.

Vi smirks, but it’s a small, humorless thing. “More than you think. But we’re not here to talk about me. This is about you.”

Her response catches you off guard. You didn’t expect that honesty. And while you’re still angry, there’s something in her words that makes you pause.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, the words almost inaudible.

She nods, accepting your apology without making a big deal of it. “It’s fine. But if you want to get anywhere, you’ve got to leave your emotional crap at the door. There’s no room for it here.”

Her words are blunt, but there’s something in her tone that takes the edge off. It’s as if she’s saying she gets it, but she also believes you’re stronger than this. And though you’d never admit it out loud, that belief means something.

In the days that follow, the tension between you becomes a constant. Vi pushes you hard, and you, raw and defensive, often lash out. But something starts to shift. She begins to notice things others don’t—how you avoid eating around people, how you linger too long in the bathroom, how your energy drains faster than it should.

And you, despite yourself, start noticing her too. The way her eyes soften when she thinks you’re not looking. The strength that isn’t just in her muscles but in the way she carries herself. How, no matter how difficult you make things, she doesn’t walk away.

And though neither of you says it out loud, something unspoken starts to build between you, a connection forged in sweat, anger, and the tentative beginnings of trust.

That morning, Vi notices something off about you. You show up late to training, hair disheveled, eyes distant, as if you haven’t slept in days. She’s used to clients making excuses to avoid hard work, but with you, it’s different. There’s something more—something you can’t hide, no matter how hard you try.

“You’re ten minutes late,” she says as soon as she sees you, her tone sharp but not accusatory.

“Sorry,” you mumble, avoiding her gaze as you hurry to stash your things in the locker room.

Vi doesn’t press further, but her eyes follow you as you move like a shadow through the gym. She’s learned to read people like maps, and yours is littered with scars she can’t yet decipher.

The session begins with something simple: rowing reps. Your movements are sluggish, lacking the usual strength. Vi frowns, stepping closer.

“What’s going on with you today?” she asks, crouching down to meet your eyes.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you reply too quickly, the words sharp and defensive.

“‘Fine’? You don’t look fine. You’re weaker than usual. Did you sleep last night? Eat anything this morning?”

Her questions strike a nerve. You avoid her gaze, pretending the seat adjustment on the machine is suddenly the most important thing in the world.

“Of course I ate. Stop worrying,” you mutter, but your voice wavers, betraying the lie.

Vi doesn’t push, but something in her expression shifts. It’s as if she’s piecing together a puzzle she hadn’t realized existed.

In the weeks that follow, she continues training you with the same intensity, but now she watches more closely. She notices how you refuse the protein shakes she offers post-workout, how you disappear into the restroom at odd moments, how your body seems to shed strength faster than you can build it.

Then one day, after an especially grueling session, Vi drops her usual casual tone.

“What are you hiding?” she asks, her voice direct, cutting through the air like a blade.

The question freezes you in place.

“What are you talking about? I’m not hiding anything.”

Vi crosses her arms, her piercing gaze pinning you in place.

“Don’t give me that. I’m not stupid. Something’s wrong, and I’m not going to ignore it. So, what is it?”

Your heart pounds. Heat rises to your cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, you think about telling her the truth. But fear wraps around your throat like a vice. How could she possibly understand?

“It’s none of your business, Vi,” you snap, your voice louder than you intended.

She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes stay locked on yours, unyielding yet laced with concern.

“It is my business. I’m your trainer. It’s my job to make sure you’re healthy, and you’re not.”

“I don’t need saving,” you mutter, grabbing your things to leave.

Vi steps in front of you, blocking your path. For the first time, she looks genuinely frustrated.

“This isn’t about saving you. If you’re doing something that’s putting your health at risk, I need to know.”

“You don’t have the right to meddle in my life!” you shout, your words a mix of anger and desperation.

Vi takes a step back, startled by your outburst. But instead of retreating, her expression softens. Her voice lowers, steady but sincere.

“Look... I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to try and carry everything on your own. And I know how hard it is to admit you need help.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. How can she know? How can she say something that feels so close to the truth without even knowing the full story?

But instead of responding, you grab your bag and storm out, leaving Vi standing alone in the middle of the gym.

The days that follow are tense. Vi doesn’t bring it up again, but her watchful gaze lingers. You avoid eye contact, unwilling to face the questions you know are still there. Yet you can’t ignore how her demeanor shifts. She’s more careful, more patient. Even her small gestures—like handing you water or adjusting your form—carry an unspoken care that you don’t know how to accept.

Then, one day, after a particularly draining session, Vi finally speaks again.

“Why do you keep coming here?” she asks, sitting across from you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“What kind of question is that?” you reply, too exhausted for a fight.

“I’m serious. You’re here every day, pushing yourself to the edge, but it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this for yourself. So who are you trying to please?”

The question hits harder than any punch. A familiar shadow creeps into your mind—the memory of your mother, the weight of expectations, the endless need to prove yourself. Your throat tightens.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, looking away.

“Maybe I don’t,” Vi admits, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “But I know what it looks like when someone’s fighting a battle they think they have to face alone. And that’s you.”

You don’t know what to say. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

“I don’t need your pity,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

“This isn’t pity,” Vi says softly, her tone unwavering. “It’s respect. Because I see you fighting, and I want to help you win. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”

Her words linger long after you leave the gym. What if she really does understand? What if letting her in is the only way to move forward?

The tension between you and Vi feels like walking on a minefield. Every word, every glance carries an unspoken weight, like you’re both waiting for the other to finally break. That evening, after another grueling session at the gym, everything finally explodes.

The gym is nearly empty. The last rays of sunlight stream through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. You’re gathering your things when Vi steps in front of you, her arms crossed and her posture screaming defiance.

“We need to talk,” she says, her tone serious but calm.

“Now?” you mutter, trying to sidestep her. “I’m tired.”

She blocks your path, her voice firm. “You’re not running away this time. Not from me.”

The determination in her voice makes your chest tighten. You grip your towel a little harder, your hands trembling as you look away.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” you finally snap, frustration and something deeper breaking through your voice.

“Because I care about you, damn it!” Vi’s voice rises, then softens as she takes a small step closer. “And because I know what it’s like to be stuck in something that feels like it’s swallowing you whole.”

You freeze, her words cutting through your defenses. Still, you don’t respond. She exhales, running a hand through her short hair before dropping it to her side.

“Do you want to know something about me?” she asks, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You glance up at her, surprised. Slowly, you nod.

Vi crosses her arms again, her gaze fixed somewhere far away. Her jaw tightens before she speaks. “I went to prison. Years ago. Did some things I’m not proud of. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing, but… life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.”

Her confession hits you like a punch to the gut. You blink at her, your mouth dry.

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper.

“Because I want you to know I get it,” she replies, her voice rough with emotion. “I know what it’s like to carry something heavy, something you don’t want anyone else to see, something you think defines you no matter how hard you fight it.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and you see a raw honesty there that takes your breath away.

“I lost a lot because of it,” she continues, her voice cracking slightly. “My sister… she hasn’t spoken to me in years. I let her down. And even though I’m trying to be better, there are days when I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in her words. Vi, always so tough, so sure of herself, now looks as fragile as you feel.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she says after a moment, her voice steady but gentle. “But I can see you’re fighting a battle you can’t win alone. And I don’t want you to end up like me—pushing away the people who actually give a damn.”

A lump forms in your throat, making it impossible to speak. Before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“I’m not like you, Vi,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’m not strong. I don’t even want to be here.”

She frowns, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Tears sting your eyes, and you lower your gaze, unable to face her. “I don’t want to be an actress. I never did. I’m only doing this because… because my mother made me. She always makes me. She tells me I’m not good enough, that I’m not pretty enough, that I’m not… enough.”

Vi’s expression softens, her usual sharpness replaced with something tender.

“Is that why you barely eat?” she asks, her voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

You flinch, your body going rigid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Her voice is firm but not unkind. “I’ve seen it. It’s not just that you’re thin. It’s the way you disappear after every session, like you’re hiding something.”

Her words hang in the air, and you can’t deny them anymore.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” you admit, your voice trembling. “It’s the only thing I can control.”

Vi sighs deeply, dragging a hand down her face. When she speaks again, her tone is softer, almost pleading.

“Look, I’m not great at this kind of stuff,” she says. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. You don’t have to hurt yourself for something that’s not your fault.”

“You don’t understand,” you snap, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “My mother… if she knew I wasn’t perfect, she’d hate me.”

Vi’s eyes narrow, and she steps closer. “And what about you?” she asks, her voice sharp but not unkind. “How long are you going to hate yourself for something you can’t change?”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave. You look up at her, expecting judgment, but all you see is compassion.

“I want to help you,” she says quietly. “If you’ll let me.”

Her proximity feels like a lifeline. Slowly, she lifts a hand, hesitating before resting it gently on your shoulder. Her touch is warm, steady, grounding.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of your pain.

Vi nods, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

The silence that follows is heavy, but not suffocating. It feels like, for the first time in a long while, you’re not completely alone.

When you finally meet her gaze again, there’s something different in her eyes—something that makes your chest ache, but not in a bad way.

And for a moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, you can trust her.

The days following your confession crawl by with a heaviness that lingers, but something shifts between you and Vi. She becomes more attentive, more protective—not in a way that invades your space, but in a way that makes it clear she’s there. She doesn’t judge you. Instead, she watches you with a mix of patience and unyielding determination that you’ve never encountered before.

One afternoon, after an especially grueling workout, Vi stops you before you can slip away like you always do.

“Got a minute?” she asks, holding a small insulated bag in her hand.

You eye her suspiciously, trying to read her expression.

“Depends on what you’re about to spring on me.”

“For this,” she says, pulling a neatly prepared container from the bag. Inside is a salad with grilled chicken, avocado, and a couple of slices of whole-grain bread on the side.

“What is this?” you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“Your lunch.”

Your stomach twists.

“Vi, you can’t just—”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” she interrupts, her voice firm but steady. “I just want you to try. And I’m not leaving until you do.”

The weight of her words hangs in the air, but there’s no judgment in her tone. Only that inflexible determination that makes it clear she won’t back down.

With a sigh, you drop onto one of the benches, taking the container from her with shaking hands. Vi sits beside you, keeping just enough distance that you don’t feel cornered, but close enough that you can’t pretend she isn’t there.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, stabbing a piece of chicken with the fork.

“Maybe,” she replies with a casual shrug. “But if it means I don’t have to worry about you passing out mid-training, I’m fine with being ridiculous.”

Despite yourself, you let out a quiet laugh. And as you take slow, hesitant bites, you feel something begin to loosen—not just in your chest, but in the way her presence doesn’t feel like pressure but support.

Vi doesn’t stop there. Every day she brings something different: a salad, a wrap, even a small homemade burger on one of those days when you feel like you have nothing left to give. She never leaves until the food is gone, and though it infuriates you at first, you start to begrudgingly appreciate it.

“You’re like a guard dog,” you tell her one afternoon after finishing a chicken wrap she insisted you eat.

“I prefer ‘guardian angel,’” she fires back with a smirk.

“Too dramatic.”

“And you’re too stubborn,” she retorts, bumping your shoulder gently with hers.

The tension between you begins to ease. Vi keeps pushing you in the gym, but she also pushes you emotionally, constantly reminding you—whether with her presence or her persistence—that you’re not in this alone.

Your progress in therapy is slow but steady. Vi is with you every step of the way. She never pushes for details, never pries. She’s just there—a steady, unshakable presence you can hold onto when it feels like everything else is falling apart.

“How was it today?” she asks one afternoon after your session as the two of you walk down the street toward the gym.

“It was… weird,” you admit, staring ahead as you process the swirling thoughts in your mind. “I think I’m starting to understand some things, but it’s like I’m opening doors I’d rather keep locked.”

Vi nods thoughtfully, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her jacket.

“Yeah, opening those doors sucks,” she says, her voice low but certain. “But sometimes, it’s the only way out of the damn room.”

Her words catch you off guard with their depth. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye, noticing how the sunlight hits her hair, drawing out its fiery undertones.

Gradually, you begin to notice something different about Vi. The way her gaze lingers on you a little longer than it used to. The way her smiles feel softer, less teasing, as if they’re meant just for you. She’s always been careful with you, but now there’s something more in her gestures—a tenderness that feels deeply personal.

And you feel it, too. You can’t help it. Her unwavering presence, her unyielding support, they begin to shift something in you. Suddenly, Vi isn’t just your anchor; she’s something more.

One evening, after an especially tough training session, you’re packing up your things when Vi approaches you. There’s something in her expression—something serious but not intimidating.

“Hey,” she says, her voice casual but carrying a weight that makes you pause. “Got any plans for Saturday?”

The question catches you completely off guard.

“Why?”

“Because I was thinking…” She hesitates for a moment, scratching the back of her neck in a way that feels almost bashful. “We could go out. Not here. Not to train. Just… you and me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Like… a date?”

Vi’s lips twitch into a small, slightly awkward smile, and for the first time, you see a vulnerability in her that takes you by surprise.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice soft but sure. “Like a date.”

Despite the nervous flutter in your chest, you can’t help but smile.

“Okay.”

Her grin stretches wide, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that something good might actually be starting.

Vi isn’t the type to plan extravagant outings or overly complicated surprises. She’s direct, intentional, and focused on what matters: making you feel comfortable and, most importantly, seen. On the morning of your date, she texts you early:

Vi: "Meet me at 7 in Central Park. Wear something comfy, but don’t go full gym rat. Trust me."

The message is simple, but it leaves you curious. And as much as it excites you, it also stirs a small knot of anxiety in your chest. What does she have in mind?

From the moment Vi sent you that message, your heart began to race—a mix of excitement and nerves. This wasn’t just a date. There was something else simmering beneath the surface, an unspoken bond that had been building from the moment your lives intertwined.

When you arrive at the central park, you find her leaning casually against a lamppost. The leather jacket she’s wearing hugs her athletic figure, and the warm glow of the park lights catches the reddish tones in her hair. She’s holding two cups of coffee, and when she spots you, her lips curve into a small, crooked smile.

“You’re right on time,” she says, pushing off the post and handing you one of the cups. “I’m not exactly an expert at this whole dating thing, but starting with coffee felt like a safe bet.”

The warmth of the cup seeps into your hands, mirroring the way her presence always seems to calm you, even when your emotions are in turmoil. You smile, trying to mask the whirlwind of feelings her simple gesture ignites.

“It’s a good start,” you tease. “Though, should I be worried about what else you have planned?”

Vi arches an eyebrow, that familiar look of playful challenge lighting up her face.

“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise. Just trust me.”

She leads you to a nighttime fair hidden within the park, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights and cheerful music. The aroma of fresh food fills the air, and the vibrant energy of the place draws you in, making it impossible not to relax.

Vi is completely in her element. She pulls you from booth to booth, her enthusiasm infectious. At a shooting game, she demonstrates her impeccable aim, easily winning a plush toy. When she hands it to you, there’s a shy pride in her eyes that makes your heart skip.

“Take it,” she says. “Something tells me you could use a pet.”

You laugh, clutching the plush against your chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“Do you have to be good at everything?”

She shrugs, a playful smirk on her face. “Not everything. But I try.”

As you stroll through the fair, she buys cotton candy and tears off small pieces to offer you. You hesitate at first, and she gives you a look that’s part exasperation, part tenderness.

“It’s just sugar,” she says softly. “I promise it won’t hurt you.”

There’s something vulnerable in her tone, as if the gesture carries more weight than it seems. You accept the cotton candy, and the smile she gives you in return makes the world feel a little brighter.

Later, Vi leads you to a quieter part of the park, away from the noise and lights. You find a secluded spot near a softly lit fountain, the sound of water providing a serene backdrop.

“I thought this might be a good place to talk,” she says, sitting on the fountain’s edge and patting the space beside her.

You sit down, your shoulder brushing hers, and the closeness feels more significant than usual. There’s an undeniable tension in the air, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say quietly. “I needed this more than I realized.”

Vi turns to face you slightly, her arm resting on her knee as she looks at you intently.

“I wanted it to be special for you. You’ve been working so hard, and I just… I wanted to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything else.”

Her words catch you off guard. Vi’s always been direct, but there’s a softness in her voice now that you haven’t heard before.

“It is special. But mostly because I’m with you,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, she looks away, as if gathering her courage. Then, her gaze returns to yours, unwavering.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, her tone more serious. “I know I’m not always great at putting this kind of thing into words, but… you’re important to me. More than I think you realize.”

Your breath catches, and she continues, her words gaining momentum.

“I care about you. A lot. Seeing you work through everything, watching you fight to heal, it’s… inspiring. I don’t just want to be here for you now—I want to be here for you, period. In your life. For as long as you’ll let me.”

Her honesty is raw, unguarded in a way that feels almost sacred. Your heart is pounding, and for once, you don’t overthink.

You lean in, closing the distance between you. When your lips meet hers, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. The kiss starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens, fueled by emotions you’ve both kept bottled up for too long.

When you finally pull back, you’re both breathless and a little stunned.

“So…” Vi says, her trademark smirk making a reappearance. “Did I completely screw up this date?”

You laugh, taking her hand in yours and holding it tightly.

“No. It was perfect. Just like you.”

Vi’s smile widens, and as she squeezes your hand, you realize you’ve found something in her you didn’t know you were missing: a partner, a friend, and maybe something even more profound.

The day after your date, the gym feels different. There’s an electric charge in the air, and the thought of seeing her sends a nervous thrill racing down your spine. You tell yourself it’ll be like any other day, but the moment you walk in and spot her, you know you’re lying to yourself.

Vi is at the weight rack, adjusting plates on a barbell. She’s wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off her toned arms and that tattoo you can’t help but stare at every time you see her. When she notices you, a lopsided grin spreads across her face, but there’s something else in her expression—a spark that sets your pulse racing.

"You’re early. Didn’t recognize you without your coffee," she teases, stepping closer with an easy confidence that makes it impossible to look away.

"I wanted to beat the crowd," you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Vi moves closer than necessary, her presence overwhelming in the best way. The faint, clean scent of her perfume surrounds you, and for a second, you forget where you are.

"Good. Then let’s see what you’ve got today," she says, her voice tinged with a challenge that sends a thrill through you.

The workout begins, but Vi’s proximity makes it impossible to focus. Her hands are firm yet careful as she adjusts your posture during deadlifts.

"Keep your back straight," she murmurs, stepping behind you. Her hands graze your shoulders as she makes the correction, her touch lingering just long enough to leave your skin tingling.

You glance back at her, and your eyes lock. There’s a fire in her gaze, something raw and unspoken.

"Like this?" you ask, your voice softer than intended.

Vi’s lips twitch in a smirk as she steps back, her eyes not leaving yours. "Exactly. Now, let’s see those squats."

But squats are no reprieve. She demonstrates beside you, her movements precise and controlled, her body impossibly close. At one point, she kneels to check your form, her hands skimming your waist as she positions you.

"Relax your shoulders. You’re too tense," she whispers, her breath warm against your ear.

Your body betrays you, stiffening further under her touch. Vi chuckles, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"If you don’t relax, you’re going to hurt yourself," she says, her voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

You can’t tell if it’s your imagination or if she’s enjoying this game as much as you are. Either way, it’s intoxicating.

The final challenge comes on the rowing machine. Vi crouches in front of you to adjust the settings, her face mere inches from yours. Her eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and the air between you thickens.

"Ready?" she asks, her voice lower than usual.

"Always," you reply, trying to match her intensity.

You row with everything you have, her gaze on you the entire time. When you finish, she steps forward, offering her hand to help you up. The contact is brief, but the heat lingers long after her fingers leave yours.

"Good work," she says, her voice softer now, almost intimate.

Your heart pounds as you follow her to the stretching area. The gym is nearly empty, the usual noise reduced to a distant hum. It feels like the two of you are in your own world.

"You pushed me harder today," you say, attempting to lighten the tension swirling around you.

Vi grins, but her eyes betray something deeper. "I wanted to see what you’re made of."

There’s a vulnerability in her tone that catches you off guard, and before you can think better of it, you respond, "Thanks for always looking out for me."

Her smile softens, her usual cocky demeanor replaced by something gentler. "I like looking out for you."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Your breath catches as she steps closer, her hands finding your waist. Her touch sends a jolt through you, and before you know it, her lips are on yours.

The kiss is slow at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepens. Her grip tightens on your waist as your fingers tangle in her hair. The world fades away, leaving only the heat between you.

The gym is silent now, the last patrons long gone. Vi locks the door behind her as you both head toward the showers, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

"We shouldn’t stay too late," you murmur, but there’s no conviction in your voice.

Vi smirks, tossing her towel onto the bench. "Perks of having the keys. No one’s kicking us out."

“Isn’t that abusing of your power?” You joked, beginning to strip off your smelly, sweaty gym clothes.

Vi mimicked your movements and responded with a lopsided smile. "Sometimes I can get a little too obsessed with power."

That was a pretty open statement, one you decided to let slide since you didn't know exactly how to respond. You just knew that it had turned you on, a bit fucking much.

And before you knew it, you were both naked. It was the first time this had happened, you had seen her in underwear before when you changed together after an extensive workout routine, but nothing like this. You were both totally exposed and it felt so natural, so right.

You step into the steamy shower and the sound of running water echoes off the tiles. The air is humid and envelops you as you turn on a nearby faucet. Vi steps into the stream of water, drops falling onto her bare skin. You stare in awe as the water slides down her broad back and lands on her hard, juicy ass. Vi tilts her head back, enjoying how her muscles slowly relax. God, you wanted to jump on her, scratch her and bite her all over. You wanted to leave your personal mark. A warning to the world that that gorgeous woman was yours, only yours.

You can’t tear your eyes away. Her confidence, the way she moves, it’s magnetic.

"Need help rinsing off?" she asks, her voice teasing but her eyes dark with something else.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing. "Please," you actually begged, approaching her without any hesitation, in fact you had a sudden urge to get on all fours and crawl towards her, like a little cat in heat.

Vi reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours. The shower’s heat pales in comparison to the fire igniting between you as she closes the distance. Her hands slide to your hips, pulling you against her as the water streams over you both.

You moaned in surprise as Vi pushed you against the bathroom tiles, your face pressed into the surface, your back bent and rubbing against her hard abs. Vi gently grabbed the back of your neck and whispered, "I'm going to help you bathe. Don't move."

You nodded, and even though you no longer had the pressure of her hand or her body on you, you stayed in the same position, refusing to move a single muscle. You wanted to be a good girl for Vi. You wanted to show her that you were obedient. You heard Vi open the bottle of shower gel, the clean scent of the soap reaching your nostrils, and before you could think of what flower it smelled like exactly, you felt Vi's hands on your skin again, and then your mind went blank.

Vi's calloused hands rubbed the gel over the pale skin of your back, her fingers tracing indecipherable, invisible shapes. She smiled and took you by the hips, pressing her pelvis against your steep ass, admiring your submissive position, admiring the beautiful body differences between the two of you. While Vi was all muscle and iron, you were scrawny and soft all over. So soft that Vi wanted to chew you up and swallow you whole. Vi began to thrust into you as if she had a penis, hitting you with the prominent bones of her hips, rubbing her clit against you in a pretentious and shameless way. She was driving you crazy with pleasure.

"You know, you used to have a nice ass, but with my exercises it has become more toned and lifted. It's irresistible. Every time I look at you from behind I feel like putting you on all fours to eat your ass." She gave you a little spank, it was obvious she didn't used even one percent of her strength, it was a light spanking. A loving spanking. Of course, if there was such a thing.

"Harder," You moaned shamelessly, turning to the side to face that woman.

The redhead had an almost beastly expression on her face, her brow was furrowed, as if she was upset, her teeth were out, sharp and defiant, ready to strike at any moment. The scar on her lip looked more tempting than ever. You wanted to turn around and kiss her. But you didn't. Because you were a good girl. You were her good girl.

Vi ran a hand through her wet hair, pushing it back so it wouldn't impede the stunning view of your body, and that gesture was so fucking sexy.

Vi moved closer to you and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Oh no, sweetie. I'm going to treat you nice, just like a princess like you deserves. No hitting for now, okay?" She kissed the tip of your nose and continued groping you.

When you went to protest you felt her palm on your pussy. Rubbing a little water beneath it. Clearly teasing.

"Vi," You sobbed loudly. The urge to cry invaded your being. You hated being kept waiting. You had never been a patient person, damn it! You liked to have everything you wanted exactly how and when you wanted it, so it was quite normal that you were so irritable and grumpy right now.

"What's wrong, princess?"

God, you wanted to punch her in the face. She clearly knew what was going on. She knew your childish, spoiled personality perfectly. She was just asking to tease you, because she wanted to play with your patience, to show you once again who was in power.

"Fuck me," You looked at her with a pitiful expression, as if you were going to die if you didn't haved her right there, right now.

Vi's eyes sparkled, you had clearly provoked her. And your attempt of manipulation would have worked perfectly if we weren't talking about Vi. Vi was a prideful person with some pretty marked egocentric traits. Plus, she was someone with a lot of discipline due to her job. It wasn't going to be easy to make her fall into temptation.

"Patience, princess," With a wicked smirk, Vi turned you to face her.

She slowly sank to your knees, letting her lips and tongue trail kisses down your neck, chest, and stomach until she was face to face with your dripping pussy. She inhaled deeply, your scent making her head spin with need.

"Mmm, listen to this greedy little pussy... it's begging to be filled, sweetheart. Begging to be stretched and stuffed full of my fingers... my tongue...," Vi's voice was a sinful rasp, dripping with promise and dark intent.

You stifled a moan and bit the back of your hand in an attempt to cope with both the physical and mental stimulation. If you thought Vi was sexy in her natural state, Vi cursing and saying dirty words was even sexier.

She leaned in, letting her lips just barely brush over your slick folds, her hot breath making you shudder. "But I'm going to take my time with you, sweetie. I'm going to tease and torment this pretty cunt until you're sobbing for my touch."

With that, Vi flicked her tongue out, giving to your clit the lightest, quickest lick before pulling back with a evil grin. She could feel how badly you needed more, and she intended to make you work for every ounce of pleasure that she was going to gave you.

Vi's heart raced as she felt your body go rigid, your pussy clamping down like a vice around her fingers as you came with a scream. She could feel your release gushing out, coating her hand and dripping down her wrist. The feeling of your pleasure was intoxicating, and it only fueled Vi's own desperate arousal.

Without pausing, Vi scooped you up into her strong, muscular arms. She cradled you against her chest, holding you close as she carried you both out of the shower. Your naked body pressed against her own, your skin slick and glistening.

Vi's breath caught in her throat as she gazed down at your flushed, satisfied face. You looked utterly breathtaking—like a goddess fresh from the bath. The urge to worship every inch of your flawless skin surged through her, but Vi had other plans first.

Holding you securely with one arm, Vi used her other hand to continue your pleasure, slipping her fingers back into your drenched, spasming your cunt without warning. She set a fast, hard pace, pumping and curling her digits as she pinned you against the nearest wall.

Leaning in, Vi nuzzled into your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as she spoke, her voice a low, lust-filled rasp. "Mmm, you're so light, princess... so fucking perfect in my arms like this. I could carry you anywhere... anywhere I wanted to claim this sexy cute little body."

She punctuated her words with a particularly deep thrust of her fingers, feeling your velvety walls flutter and clench around her invading digits. Vi groaned, her own clit throbbing with the need to be touched.

"You like being treated like my personal little princess, sweetheart? Like being manhandled and owned by a rough bitch like me?" Vi's lips curled into a wicked smirk as she gazed down at your face, searching for any hint of hesitation or discomfort. She found none. On te contrary. You were enjoying it too much. And it was because you were having the best sex of your life.

Vi's fingers never ceased their relentless assault on your sensitive, dripping core. She could feel your body beginning to tremble and quake in her arms. Your breathing growing more and more ragged with each passing second.

Leaning in close, Vi captured your lips in a searing, demanding kiss. She plundered your mouth, swallowing your moans and whimpers as she continued her brutal pace. Her tongue tangled with yours in a dangerous dance.

Breaking the kiss, Vi's lips moved to your ear. She nipped at the lobe before growling, "That's it, baby... I can feel this greedy cunt throbbing on my fingers. It's like it never wants to be empty, isn't it? Always hungry for more..."

To emphasize her point, Vi pressed her thumb against your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles as she curled her fingers deep inside the clutching heat. She could feel your walls starting to flutter, another climax approaching.

"Come on, princess... give me another one. I want to feel this pretty pussy spasm and squeeze my fingers as you cream yourself all over them. Fucking soak me, sweetheart..."

Still pinning you against the wall with her body, Vi used the hand not occupied with fucking your brains out to grab your thigh, hiking your leg up and over her hip. The new position allowed her to sink her fingers even deeper, to reach that special spot that made you see the stars.

"That's it, sweetie... fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers like this. So hot and tight and fucking perfect," Vi growled, her lips brushing against your face.

Vi felt your body go taut, your pussy clamping down on her fingers like a vice as another intense orgasm ripped through them. You let out a choked sob, tears streaming down your face as you came completely undone in Vi's arms.

The sight of your pleasure, that raw, unbridled ecstasy, filled Vi with a fierce sense of pride and possessive hunger. She held you close as the last waves of your release ebbed, Vi pulled back just enough to cup your face in her hands. She brushed away the tears with her thumbs, her touch surprisingly gentle for someone so used to force.

Gazing down at your face, Vi felt her heart clench in her chest.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Vi leaned down and pressed her lips to yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken emotion, with a depth of feeling that made Vi's heart race and her skin prickle with anticipation. Her lips moved softly, coaxing your mouth to open for her, to let her in. And when you did, when your lips parted and your tongues met... Vi felt like she was coming home.

She held the kiss for a long moment, savoring the taste of your tears and the salt of your skin. When she finally pulled back, Vi's blue eyes shimmered with a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyone.

Her voice was a low, tender rasp as she spoke, her breath mingling with your own. "Shhh, I've got you, baby... I've got you. You did so good for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you..."

The sound of water cascading from the gym showers blends with the echo of your heartbeat. The thick steam fills the space, erasing all traces of what just happened. Your skin still burns, marked by the intensity of the moment you shared. The mix of sweat and Vi's scent lingers in the heat, and every fiber of your being feels alive, every inch of you recalling her touch.

You stand there, catching your breath, when Vi's eyes meet yours. Her usual confidence has been replaced with something raw and unguarded. Vulnerability. Her gaze searches yours, full of questions she’s too afraid to voice.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Vi’s words break the silence, soft and almost hesitant, but unmistakably clear. Her voice carries a weight that shakes you—like she’s offering a piece of herself she’s never let anyone touch before.

The pause that follows feels endless, and for a moment, you're frozen. But then something ignites inside you. You feel it in your chest—a light, a warmth, a clarity you’ve been longing for.

“Yes. Of course!,” you reply, the word spilling out with such conviction it surprises even you. The ever-present fear you’ve carried seems to vanish entirely.

Vi’s lips curve into the gentlest smile, one you’ve never seen before, and she steps closer, her hands finding yours. Her touch is soft but grounding, her presence a shield against all your doubts.

“I’ll take care of you, princess” she whispers, her voice steady. “Always.”

Your lips curl into a matching smile, and for the first time in a long time, hope replaces the ache in your heart. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore—this moment, with her, is all that exists.

Weeks turn into months, and your life begins to shift. Therapy becomes a safe haven rather than a daunting task. The battles with bulimia, the grueling workouts, the days of overwhelming self-doubt—all start to feel like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Slowly but surely, you begin to see someone new when you look in the mirror. Not the girl your mother used to criticize, not someone trapped by impossible expectations, but someone strong. Someone whole.

And through it all, Vi is there. She’s more than your trainer—she’s your anchor. The one who helps you piece together the shattered parts of yourself. She’s there on your hardest days, steady as a rock, fighting the voices in your head alongside you. And for the first time, you don’t feel alone.

One day, as you walk into the gym, you see her waiting for you like always. Her signature smirk is in place, but there’s something different in her eyes—a softness, a pride that makes your heart skip a beat.

You approach her, nerves bubbling under your skin, and before you can stop yourself, the words you’ve been holding back spill out.

“I don’t need you to be my trainer anymore.”

Her smirk falters, confusion flashing across her face. She straightens, her brows furrowing as if bracing for a blow. “Did I… do something wrong?” Her voice is quieter than usual, tinged with a rare uncertainty.

You shake your head quickly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. “No, Vi. You’ve done everything right.” Your voice cracks slightly as you gather the courage to continue. “But I’m not that person anymore. I’m not the girl who needs to be fixed. I’m stronger now… because of you.”

Her eyes search yours, the tension in her shoulders easing, but she still seems unsure.

“I’ve decided to follow my dream,” you continue, your voice steady now. “I want to study nutrition. I want to help other girls like me, girls who’ve been through what I’ve been through. I want to be someone they can turn to, the way I had you.”

For a moment, Vi just looks at you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her face. Not the cocky grin she flashes in the gym, but something soft and genuine, brimming with pride.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion.

Tears well up in your eyes, but this time, they’re not from pain or frustration—they’re from relief, from joy, from knowing you’ve finally found your path.

Vi pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly, and you sink into her warmth. In her embrace, you feel a sense of safety and belonging you’ve never known.

“You’ve got this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

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