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miss-cincaide · 2 months ago

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Explain Yourself, Woman

Summary: It’s time to set up the Halloween decorations, and you’re excited about it. You’ve even agreed to let Yuji’s odd cousin, who’s just exited prison, help out. You could never phantom that Ryoumen Sukuna had no clue what Halloween was or why you’d put cobwebs in the ceiling.

Pairing: Fem! reader x Yuji Itadori; Fem! Reader x (ex-con) Sukuna Kinktober prompt 9: Non-con WC: 4.6K Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Non-con/dub-con, quickie, unprotected P in V, fingering, cursing, alcohol,

“I promise and swear on my life he will behave, please so pretty pretty, please? I am ready to do whatever!!”

You couldn’t see much of the pink-haired boy, except the back of his head with the newly trimmed black undercut and even fluffier pink hair, as he sat on his hands and knees in front of you, head pressed to his hands, forehead to the pavement in the most pitiful and submissive dogeza you had seen in your entire life. His whole body was in the middle of the street, with your shopping bags on either side of him, effectively blocking anyone from walking by you two in your residential area.

A cyclist passed by, repeatedly pinging his bell to get Yuji to move from the middle of the street. When Yuji didn’t, the cyclist drove out onto the main road at the last minute, flipping both of you off as he passed you by.

You felt your face flush slightly underneath your hands. The embarrassment of your best friend’s dogeza in the middle of a public street only amplified your overall embarrassment associated with that idiot. Your only salvation was that Yuji remembered his cousin when you were almost home and not in the middle of the packed shopping district.

Then, you were sure you would have died of embarrassment.

“Please?-” his voice grew louder, his tone more desperate, and if he could bury himself beneath the pavement to you, he most certainly would have.

You hated the emotion that stirred in the pit of your stomach. The gnawing, burning feeling that hated seeing Yuji beg for anything, especially in front of you. The side that wanted to give him whatever so he could return to his usual bright and bubbly self. “Well ye– I don’t know, Yuji” You caught yourself at the last minute before you could promise the world to your best friend and lover. “He’s.. you know, kinda scary.”

“I swear and promise Sukuna’ll be on his best behaviour,” he reassured you in a heartbeat.”You’re the only one, YN, who isn’t completely terrified of him or judges him for his mistakes. C’mon, this is his first Halloween out, and he is entirely alone? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Being alone on Halloween wasn’t a big deal unless you were an Itadori, which is worse than missing Christmas and Birthday combined. It was the celebration, the day to be with your friends and come up with mischief. The one day a year, you all were just goofy, carefree friends before life caught up to you.

The guilt tripping worked.

Groaning, you dropped your hands away from your face with a whiny “fiiine,” followed by a more serious, “You owe me big time, bud.”

“You’re the best!” Yuji scrambled to his feet in seconds, and bags gathered back into his hands. A beat of awkwardness was between you, an almost embarrassed silence which Yuji instantly broke with, “Last one to your door is the rotten egg making bento for tomorrow?”

You laughed, the tension disappearing. “ I want those awesome onigiri you make with the soft-boiled egg in the middle!” You declared only for Yuji to remind you that you hadn’t won yet.

But you may have. Your house was four blocks away, but yesterday, you found a lovely shortcut through a newly torn-down house that was just an empty, debris-filled lot, effectively cutting your getting home time in half. Even if Yuji were faster, he’d not anticipate you to take off down another route. So you’d win by taking him by surprise! So, You felt like you had this in your pocket as both of you got ready to sprint, just waiting for him to start you guys off.

“Also, Sukuna-will-be-here-tomorrow-to-help-set-everything-up!” And then Yuji took off running as if hell hounds were after him as you stood stunned, processing his words.

“Hey! That’s not what we agreed on!” You called after him, beginning to jog at a much slower pace, all forgotten about the shortcut, egg-filled onigiri or anything besides the fact that Sukuna would be on your doorstep tomorrow.

“Cheater!” You yelled after him into the empty street. Earning yourself a stink eye from the nosy neighbourhood watch lady, who was peeking up at you over the hedge of her fence. You gave her a wave before your jog turned into a slow walk after Yuji. He better not think you would make tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch after the stunt he pulled.

You mercilessly roped Yuji into making dinner that night, bento for the following day, and breakfast. He promised to do the week's shopping for you and be at your place the following morning.

However, at 10:30, there was still no sign of Yuji, who had promised breakfast or shopping. But there was a roar of a motorbike that disturbed your otherwise calm suburban neighbourhood area. The motorbike drew nearer and nearer, tearing you from your monotone ranting about Yuji to no one but yourself and the cobwebs you hung up. You stood atop a ladder in the hallway, slinging the fake tangly web from the room's corners to the hallway lamp in thick white ropes to which you’d tie giant spiders and tiny ghosts.

Another roar from the bike, as if announcing his arrival, before it stopped and grew silent outside your house- a relatively flat brick building three stories in height that held four apartment units on each floor. Something told you that noisy horror, the owner, was there for you.

Carefully, you climbed down the ladder. Your feet made contact with your hallway floor just as heavy pounding sounded on your front door. A pause, a literal half minute before the pounding repeated with such violence, you wondered how the entire thing didn’t fly off its hinges and hit you in the face.

“I’m coming”, You called as the door shook and the person on the other side kicked it. A second later, you unlocked it, coming face to face with Yuji’s lookalike. The resemblance was uncanny- the same pink hair with the black undercut, the same face shape and build and even similar clothes. Hell, you swore he smelled the same way Yuji did. The glaring difference, however, was the blank tattoos that littered the man’s face and neck and snaked under his casual clothes. “Y-yuji?”

“ Gahh, You think I’m that brat?”

Not Yuji, you concluded, as the man brushed past you into your apartment without even being welcomed in. You glared slightly as he didn’t kick his shoes off but rather strolled right in over your rugs and towards the living room, where he flopped down on the couch beside the boxes of Halloween decorations, one arm over the backseat. At the same time, the second one rested in his lap, tapping away as if expecting to be served.

“Get me a drink”

Your eye twitched in annoyance at the order as you headed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a pitcher of water and a glass, which you slammed into the table in front of your unwelcome guest. “Serve yourself, or wait until Yuji shows up. I am not your servant.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow before he threw his head back and laughed. An unkind sound that made the hairs stand on the back of your neck. Rather than show your fear, you moved towards the bags of decorations you and Yuji had gotten the day prior and pulled out another bag of thick white cobwebs with tiny plastic spiders. You ripped the bag open, sending stapes that held the plastic bag together with the paper tag everywhere, with one landing into Sukuna’s lap.

He stopped laughing, and you thought the ex-con was going to kill. “Yuji was right; you have guts. I respect that, woman.” You guessed ‘woman’ was a step above ‘brat’, but you weren’t wholly confident and were not about to ask him either.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him reach over and pour himself a glass from the pitcher before downing the entire thing in one go. There wasn’t a ‘thank you’ in sight as he placed the glass back on the table. Then he reached over to the bag of trick-or-treat candy prepared for the Trick-or-Treating neighbouring kids forgotten on the table and pulled out a Snickers bar. Without asking, he tore the wrapping open, broke off a piece and ate it. He made a face, but to your surprise, he did not comment on the treat. “What’re you doing, woman?”

You looked up from untangling the last spider before stretching out the cobwebs. “Decorating”, You answered flatly, going over to the ladder and climbing the wobbly thing towards the ceiling. You didn’t look at Sukuna as you perched on the top step's edge and put the cobwebs' first edge on the pre-prepared hook. You shifted, too lazy to climb down and move the step to reach the next hook until you practically balanced on your tip-toes, your entire body and the ladder shaking from the effort. When you missed the last hook for the third time, you huffed in annoyance and climbed down.

“Give it here” You didn’t realise Sukuna had come up to the stairs until he was beside you. He took the remaining web from your hands and climbed confidently onto the ladder before he saddled the top stair, one leg on either side.* A second later, he angled his body and effectively walked the ladder between the cobwebs and remaining hooks, leaving you gaping like an idiot. Then, once the cobweb was hung, he beckoned with his hand. When you didn’t move, he glared at you with narrowed eyes. “Next one, woman.”

The order snapped you out of your daze, and you rushed back to the living room to open the next bag of decorations. “Those go in the corner-” you pointed where you meant, only to receive a glare and a tsk in response as he already began hanging it up, not caring or even listening to the end of your sentence. You remained quiet after that, just passing him decoration after decoration, which he set up from the hallway to the living room, to the kitchen and the bedrooms before finally walking the stairs towards the bathroom, where he quickly took down your giraffe-themed shower curtain to replace it with a more theme-appropriate glow in the dark one with bloody handprints on.

You quickly realised two things: Sukuna had a knack for decorating, finding ways to turn your spooky vision even more spooky than you imagined it, and second, he didn’t say much as he worked. He motioned with one hand for the next decoration and the other for the tool. It was then your job to figure out what he wanted unless you wanted to face his glare. Still, over the coming hour, you felt yourself inevitably relax. He had a sharp and rude mouth on and a mean look, but as Yuji said, he wasn’t inherently causing trouble either and not what you expected from someone who had spent his youth locked up behind bars for heinous crimes. Most certainly, you didn’t expect a violent ex-con to be in your apartment, hanging up paper cut-outs of pumpkins and ghosts.

“Let’s take a break”, you offered from the doorway, raising a bottle of beer in silent offer for a drink.

The sneer on Sukuna’s face made you almost drop the drink.

You yelped loudly as he jumped from the ladder in one fleeting move before ripping the cold one out of your hands. “ Damn greedy woman, made me drink water when you had this” his scolding sounded more like a certain death if you ever served him water instead of beer. He downed the bottle in one go, then grabbed the second beer you had gotten for yourself before heading back to your couch, leaving you standing with just an empty bottle.

“Seriously?!” you hissed to yourself, going to the kitchen and retrieving another before going where he was. You sat on the armchair opposite, your eyes on your phone as you typed out yet another message to Yuji, asking where he was.

“So explain yourself, woman,” you looked up as Sukuna addressed you, then tilted your head to the side in slight confusion. He motioned towards the decoration, but when you still didn’t reply, he spoke with a sneer, “Why make it look like you haven’t cleaned in centuries?”

“Because it’s gonna be a Halloween party,” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” Like our entire floor is going to be like a huge party, with different themes between each apartment.”

When he didn’t give you any reaction, you changed the apps on your phone and opened up the pictures from the last Halloween before reaching it over and showing him. “So you see, the first apartments have a scary corridor, then in the third, there’s a huge nightclub, and here we’ll set up a drinks table and refreshments, and it’s gonna be sorta like a calm place to relax and chat–Hey!” You yelled out as Sukuna’s ice-cold hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you into the couch beside himself with a single yank. His other arm was still wrapped around the back of the sofa; you could feel it against your neck as you hit your new seat. He didn’t heed you before bringing your phone closer to his face, flickering through the pictures.

“So booze and bloody-murder screaming?” you nodded with a grin as he began to understand what you were getting at “ and slutty women?”

You grimaced a little at the last description, but admittedly, you couldn’t deny the accusation. Most people who attended this four-apartment party were local unit guys and girls whose definition of modesty was non-existent. Admittedly, you weren’t much better after a few drinks. “Well…” you cut yourself off as Sukuna reached into one of the Halloween shopping bags that was half empty; the only thing remaining in that bag was a seductive cat costume that Yuji had practically drooled over when you tried it on the day prior.

The sight of it made Sukuna burst out laughing. “ A giant pussy? How fitting.” He taunted as you reached for the costume with a bright blush.

“Give it back!” you whined as Sukuna kept it just out of reach, one hand waving it above your head in a taunting display while the hand that had rested on the couch gripped your shoulder, preventing you from standing or launching after it. “Hey, it’s not fair!”

Sukuna’s sadistic grin said, ‘Nothing’s fair’ as he waved the costume again in your face, then yanked it back at the last minute; “You want it back? Then you will tell me everything about this little party of yours, woman.”

“Then ask like a normal person!” You cried and made another launch for the costume. You paused mid-way through as you heard the front door bust open, followed by the ruffling of plastic bags and pounding of feet.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry I overslept, but I'm here now and-” Yujis cut himself, gasping for air, chopping out apologies in between breathing.

You glanced over at him.

“ I’m still pissy with you.” You said simply before crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch. You tried to look disappointed or stern or at least annoyed at Yuji.

Your boyfriend hung his head while slowly raising one of the heavier bags. “Brunch? And a mimosa to go with it?” The puppy dog eyes and the quivering lip won you over almost as much as the promised breakfast-turned-lunch and a drink to sweeten the deal. Your lips pulled up into a huge grin.

“Get in the kitchen” Your tone was teasing, and Yuji responded with a salute, moving to pick up the bags again.

“Pfff, as if that brat knows how to cook anything,” Sukuna spoke up, momentarily pausing from flickering through the party pictures on your phone.

You spun your head around to face Sukuna, a scowl on your lips. “As if you could do any better”, you huffed and saw his eyes narrow in a murderous warning glare. After being exposed to them all morning, it didn’t scare you as much anymore. So you just raised your chin, the challenge present.

“Tsk, insolent woman, I’ll show you.” Sukuna pushed himself off the couch, throwing the costume back at you, and followed Yuji to the kitchen. A moment later, you heard Yuji’s loud voice, ‘Thanks, cousin,’ before he flew out of there as if hell’s fire was under his feet.

Yuji made a bee-line straight for the couch, plopping down beside you. His arm reaches out and wraps around your shoulders, Coxing you away from studying your costume. “Hey,” his tone was playful, loving, as his other hand brushed some flyaway hairs off your face.

“Hey yourself”, you returned the favour, brushing your hand through his hair, feeling the lingering waxy-sticky texture on your fingertips. “Should I be worried? You know, about my kitchen and your cousin?”

“ Neah” Yuji brushed the tip of his nose against yours, his lips up in a slight smirk. “Thanks for getting me out of kitchen duty, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shoving him playfully away seconds before he could kiss you. “I didn’t ‘get you out of anything’, Sukuna volunteered.”

“Sure he did” Yuji tried to close the distance again, only to have his lips meet the plastic packaging of your costume. “Baby~”

“ Nope, still pissy with you. So no kisses for now,” your tone of voice dropped to a whisper, “I don’t wanna snuggle with your cousin here.”

“You care what he thinks?” Yuji sounded doubtful, and you merely rolled your eyes.

“No, I care about keeping decent appearances. And I doubt I’d be able to stop now, with just a kiss” You give Yuji a wink, seeing his face flush a crimson red, then duck out of the way as he dived towards you to get that kiss and a little more. “Now, c’mon, the faster we get started, the faster we’re done with party-prep.”

Yuji whined, a pout on his face the entire time you kept setting up the last of the so-called calm corner, which would be your apartment for the upcoming party. He hadn’t stopped pouting by the time Sukuna was done with brunch, and the three of you sat down, something the older cousin remarked on.

“The fuck’s gotten his panties in a twist?” Sukuna asked as Yuji looked like a dark cloud loomed over him, poking at his breakfast sausage with half-hearted enthusiasm.

“Just leave him be.” You replied sharply, tense at the fact that Yuji had to be so bloody and childish and make a huge deal that you set some no-kissing boundaries in the presence of guests in your home.

But you figured he would cheer up once the last of the party prep was finished, and you two got some alone in your bedroom. Even if Sukuna was going to crash on your couch- because you would be damned three times over before you let the ex-con land back in prison for drunk driving or crashing on his roaring horror on the way home. No, you would pretend it was just You and Yuji and forget all about the ex-con on your couch, separated only by a heavy oak door. And you’d make it up to your sulking boyfriend with a ton of kisses, you were certain of it.

When it was finally bedtime, Yuji surprised you by showering, changing into his usual t-shirt and boxers combo and jumping into bed. However instead of laying on his back, legs spread waiting for you to crawl to him, he rolled over to his side, away from you, so he faced the bedroom door instead of you. You frowned but made an attempt to crawled closer in your silky, half sheer nightgown and specially picked skimpy panties, no bra, a sultry pouty look on your face.

“Baby”, You purred, reaching out a hand to trace down his bicep. Yuji shook your touch off. You reeled back, hurt and confused by his reaction. “Yuji?”

“You didn’t wanna kiss me,” Yuji stated.

You gaped and sat down in the middle of your bed; your jaw dropped as you gathered your thoughts and the unmistakable implications of his words. Then your expression darkened. “Are you seriously punishing me for not wanting to kiss you in front of your cousin?”

Yuji shrugged in response.

You sat in bed for a moment, the sting of rejection hurting worse than you expected. Here, you were prepared to make it up to him for no kisses all afternoon, and he acted like he didn’t care. He just sulked in bed like an immature child.

Fine then. You got off the bed and waited a second to see if he would change his mind and pull you back into it. But Yuji didn’t move, so you threw on your silky bathrobe over yourself, tying it firmly into place. “You wanna sulk? Then sulk. I’m going downstairs to get some cooking prep done for tomorrow. You know where to find me if you want to get some!” You stomped to the door, paused and gave him another chance to stop this childish charade of pushing you away because of something so small.

But Yuji didn’t move, and you stepped out of your bedroom door and slammed the door behind you.

You cursed when you remembered Sukuna was sleeping on the couch. But you didn’t hear him stir and walked briskly in the darkness to the kitchen. You didn’t want to wake Sukuna by turning on the light- the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his condescending glare and bossy ‘woman this- woman that’. No, you went straight to the sink to pour yourself a cup of water, your body practically shaking with rage.

A rage that only increased as you heard footsteps walk after you into the kitchen. They stopped quickly from you, and you didn’t turn around to face him. Nothing happened, and there was silence and darkness around you. Your frustration mounted, and you brought the glass to your lips, gulping down the water and then choking on it.

A hand tapped your back a few times until the water got out of your lungs and then lingered there. “ Thanks, baby, you changed your mind for a little late-night fun? We should go upstairs- ah!”

You gasped as he pushed you up against the sink. Two hands firmly gripping your waist, hard cock pressed against the curve of your ass. His chest against your back, applying just the right amount of weight to have you bent slightly forward, gripping the sink.

“Y-yuji baby-” You gasped, grinding back against him. “W-We can’t! Y-your cousin is here; he’ll hear!”

The only response you get is a shift of clothing, feel your bathrobe get hiked up, and his hard dick slide right over the barely there panties. “Mphfmm” Your hand flies up to your mouth, your teeth biting into your fingers to keep yourself from moaning.

Fuck Yuji’s never been this rushed. Never straight to the act, bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you like a street whore,kinda-guy. It’s always slow and sensual to make love. Fingering, eating out, lube. Sex with Yuji is always a several-hour slow ordeal.

This was hot and hard; the hands-on your waist kept you bent, your arm against the sink the only way you braced yourself against the motion of his hips. But goddamn, that angle made your knees weak, the way his cock slid between your slick puffy folds, the tip bullying against your clit with every thrust.

“Mmmneah Y-Yuji, he’ll hear– ahhh god, I’m close” You bite your hand hard to silence the scream as he pushes his cock inside you. The hand dropped away from your waist and grabbed your leg, throwing it up on the counter.

“Oh fuck!” You moan, even as both hands land on your mouth. But the new angle, the speed, the slap of his balls against your ass and his bullying cock leaves you weak. The moans slip through your fingers as you cum all over him, your body shaking like a leaf.

“Ahh, oh god, mmm” you’re moaning and cooing. He kept thrusting, each movement growing more rapid, and you’re fucking crying at how good it feels. Intense and so fucking hot. You’re not bothering to hide your moans or gasps anymore, taking every single thrust until you think that final extra hard one, followed by hot spurs of cum filling your pussy and overflowing out, making a mess between your legs.

“Fucking hell, Yuji”, You rasped out, your hand gripping the counter as he pulled out of you. You just sat there for a moment, high on the rush and the pleasure. A painful slap on your ass startles you out of your thoughts, and you yelp, partially in pain and partially in surprise. That’s not something Yuji did; the feeling of wrongness set over you. But your mind doesn’t let you focus on that- instead, it reminds you of Sukuna sleeping on the couch a few paces away and the horrible never-fading embarrassment if he were to wake up, go to the kitchen and find you in the very porno-like position, with a leg thrown up on the counter and hot cum flowing right out of your newly fucked pussy.

You hurriedly threw your leg back down and re-tied the bathrobe over yourself. You took another clunk of the half-abandoned glass of water, then set it in the sink before you tiptoed out of the kitchen. On your way out, you threw a glance at Sukuna but saw him fast asleep on the couch, soft snores escaping him, arm over his ears, facing the back of the sofa. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and head to your bathroom.

You did a quick cleanup, just enough to remove the worst mess between your legs. Then, you headed back to your bedroom.

You saw that Yuji was up. His hands fidgeted nervously in his lap, and his gaze was firmly planted on his hands. He didn’t say anything as you stepped towards your side of the bed and slid under the warm covers of your bed. You laid on your side, yet even before you settled down, he was on you, his hands wrapped around your side, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry, baby”, Yuji mumbled.. “It was stupid of me to push you away. I just. I didn’t expect you to get along so well with Sukuna, but I got. I'm a little jealous.” He rubbed your side slowly until the tension finally left your body, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re forgiven, " you mumbled, pressing your body closer against his. “No, no baby, I was a total ass; let me make it up to you, show you how sorry I am” Yuji pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his fingers making their way between your legs. “Ohh baby, damn, you’re so sticky already, so wet, my little minx.. Oh hey, is that cum inside you?”

His words make your blood run cold; your heart drops to your feet as you realise whose dick you had inside you moments earlier.

Author note: Did I skip days a little bit? Yes I did, but I really wanted to know what you guys would think about this more story-based smut. That's the type of fics I'd wanna publish in the future, question is, is it the type of content you'd wanna read?

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219 notes · View notes

ywpd-translations · 2 months ago

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Ride 795: The peak of their limits!!

Pag 1

2: Isn't there anything I can do?

3: Listen to him

4: You don't have to say anything back, you can just nod

5: Just listen to his nonsense

6: Like always

8: To... Toudou-san

Pag 2

1: He'll arrive soon

2: In just a few minutes he'll pass on this road right before our eyes

4: There's no need to stay back

5: Right now, he's fighting

6: He's running against his rival for “the last kilometer”....

His muscles are aflame, he's wiping away his sweat, and his body is screaming

Pag 3

1: His limbs are numb because the blood isn't flowing until his extremities

His heart rate is at its limit, his body feels like it's in danger and is trying to stop moving

2: He's fighting against his own body that's trying to stop, and against his rival who's moving forward

It's the “peak of their limits”

3: The peak of... their limits

4: That's the fight he wanted

5: Watch him closely

Call out to him with me and he'll be happy

6: Don't worry

Racers recognize even the quietest voice

And then

Pag 4

1: they can turn them into power!!

Pag 5

1: Sooreeeee

2: 700m left until the mountain line!!

They're lined up!! They're neck and neck!!

So close!

Pag 6

1: 600m left!!

2: The race passes through the intersections with Mt. Hiko's trailhead!!

Goo Hakogaku!!

Don't lose, Chiba!!

They're neck and neck!!

Pag 7

1: Neither of them is stopping!!

Pag 9

2: So much sweat is falling on the road!!

3: They're passing through the last intersection and then will face the final gate

4: They're entering a narrow road!!

Pag 10

1: 500m left!!

2: They're still pedaling!!

Pag 11

1: Since earlier my fingers in my right shoes

2: keep getting cramps

3: The blood isn't reaching their tips

4: It's not, but

6: I'll keep turning my legs!!

7: I'll tighten up my shoes to reduce the pain!!

Pag 12

1: Mountain King tightened his shoe's dial!!

Woah he's serious!!

2: What does it mean!?

Biking shoes have a dial

3: During a long race, cyclists' feet get thinner, so they turn their shoes' dial up to tighten and secure their feet in preparation for the final dash

Wire

Depending on the direction you turn the dial, it tighten or become loose

4: In the scene of European races, it's something cyclists do a lot to prepare for the race before the finish line!!

5: Is Mountain Kind going to attack here!?

But right now it looked like he was trying to avoid the pain in his leg

Pag 13

1: This is bad!!

It's not just my fingers

My arms have lost feeling too when I'm dancing

3: But it's okay, it's just right

My legs are moving

4: And you're next to me!!

We're still fighting!!

Pag 14

1: If my arms won't move then I can just swing my bike from my shoulders!!

Pag 15

1: Manami attacked again!!

Amazing!

He's going!!

2: In the hardest section!!

He's leaving Mountain King behind using his dancing!!

Pag 16

1: He's opening a gap between himself and Sohoku's Mountain King!!

3: Mountain King is in a tough spot!!

4: He instinctively dropped his head!!

Pag 17

1: Try to have fun, Onoda

4: Races are hard

5: When your opponent accelerates in an unexpected moment, when the attack is stronger than you had imagined

6: Remember

Pag 18

1: You can't win a race without going through tough times

2: Teshma-san....

3: “Just before” means that there are many options

Like, will my opponent get exhausted? Could he make a mistake? You'll be thinking like that

4: Surprisingly, victory or defeat depend on these little things

Pag 19

1: Well, that's just my advice though

I actually always end up slowing down at critical moments, and so I lose

2: That's not true at all!! At this year's Inter High it was Teshima-san who won the mountain prize!! Thank you so much for that!!

I get it, I get it

3: Well, you're an earnest person and won two times already, so it's like I'm preaching to the choir

4: But there are times when you're weak

5: I've seen that many times too

9: During a race, when it's “just before”, just remember this

10: When there is both a hard road and an easy road

Pag 20

1: Don't hesitate to take the hard road!!

2: Right now for a moment, I was thinking “why am I going now” and “when it's hard to breathe”!!

Pag 21

2: My chest hurts!!

3: My legs hurt!!

4: But still!!

6: I'll choose what to chase!!

Pag 22

1: Mountain King is accelerating and chasing!!

Aaaaaagh

4: Sangaku!!

5: I'm ready!!

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koiiiji · 7 months ago

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broooo, one, one plsssss… do one work by windbreaker, i swear, i’ve read all your works..all..😭😇😇😇🫶🏻

author’s note ; i hope you enjoying my lookism hyperfixation era bro🪄✨🤓

but i agree, it’s been a while since the last time i’ve carried entire windbreaker hashtag on my back… seems like time to finally go back to my windbreaker babies here too😌💗🎀 but for now just one-shot just to tease y’all 🤭

author’s note 2 ; okay now serious topic, empty blogs, pls update at least something in your blogs - age, some info like “here for fics/reblogs/etc/“ or at least some pfp, otherwise i will recognize you as bot blogs and will block you, thank u!

tw ; no, fluff, reassurance, established relationships, au! where hummingbird already win over monster and it’s time for final round

pairing; hyok kwon x gn!reader

“you sure he worth it?” you asked Hyok calmly, watching him practicing his balance on nearest to your apartments building playground.

playground now quiet under the twilight sky, it’s bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that dance with the breeze. the air is warm, almost velvety, carrying the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. you stand there in Hyok’s oversized jacket, its familiar fabric rustling softly with each gust of the summer breeze. his jacket envelops you, providing a comforting weight and his lingering scent. you watch him as his silhouette mixing with determination and grace, backlit by the moon light.

your voices blend with the ambient sounds of the night – the distant hum of cars, the occasional chirping of crickets, and the gentle rustle of leaves, - “it’s not about his worthiness or something…” Hyok muttered softly as he focusing on his bike and legs. - “it will be about me to show difference between me and him… that we stand on different levels…” - you can clearly hear that Hyok was tensed. you know he would never admit that - being nervous over some schooler… what a nonsense for Hyok Kwon.

you chuckled softly, looking at him and making self note that if he actually wasn’t worried about Jo Jahyon you two now would peacefully sleeping in your bed. but here you are, just came back from studying the route where tomorrow race will take place, and now watching his final practice with his tricks. but you still enjoyed your boyfriend’s company at peaceful playground at night, right?

when Hyok finally moved from place he was standing still on, he drives towards you with a relaxed yet purposeful stride. he stopped few inches away from you and without hesitation wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. his bike was still between his legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist. embrace is warm and reassuring, and as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, you feel his breath against your skin. you hummed softly, snuggling up to him, stroking his hair back and mumbling some words of support meant just for him, - "look at me" - you pulled his head a little, making him look straight into your eyes - "you are the most talented cyclist i ever met Hyok..." - you took a pause combing his ravenly black hair back with your fingers, placing your palm on his cheek, studying his features as if you never did it million times before. - "you will tear that hummingbird apart tomorrow, will win competitions and after..." - you pulled him closer rubbing your nose against tip of his nose, - "we will take deepest nap we've ever experienced" - you softly mumbled into his lips with a warm smile. it seemed to you that Kwon almost purred with pleasure when he closed his eyes and pressed you even tighter towards him, kissing your forehead and freezing in that position for a couple minutes, enjoying the moment. the world around seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in that perfect summer moment.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #webtoon #headcanon #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker webtoon x reader #windbreaker imagine #windbreaker kwon hyok #hyuk kwon x reader #hyok kwon #hyuk kwon #hyeok kwon sabbath #sabbath x reader #sabbath crew

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0xstarzx0 · 10 months ago

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Don’t write it it stinks of toxic love

synopsis: Nate never found someone to love, Rafe was never loved and Y/N was never taken serious Maybe their entry into college will change their lives.

Frat Rafe x Reader x Frat Nate.

[English is not my native language❗️❗️] TW: toxic, smut, sex, penetration, fingering, non-con, manipulation , insult, fight, humiliation, misogynistic attitude. [PART1]

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NATE

The summer vacation had not been easy for Nathaniel Jacobs. Between the divorce of his parents, Cassie who was just stalking his and his going to college, nothing was right.

Two weeks before homecoming, he decided to go to Chris Mckay’s, he was happy that Mckay was still talking to him about what happened between him and Cassie.

They were in Mckay’s room playing a fighting game. They were focused in their game when Nate was talking. "Dude?". Mckay turned his head to look at him. "Yeah?" he said.

"How’s college, I mean is there a lot of hot chicks?" Mckay and Nate laugh, Nate laugh to hide his anxiety.

Nate wanted to leave, college was one of the best ways. What Nate was afraid of was not being number one. He was afraid that he would not be THE best football player. That he is not indispensable to his team.

"Nah, man, college is where you can fuck whoever you want, it’s not like high school, people don’t give a shit about who’s fucking who, as long as it’s not cheating." Mckay said.

"How do you get respect?" Nate asks. Mckay seems to think long." I had sex with the cheerleading captain and the opposing college captain. Nate opens his eyes wide. "Two cheerleaders but not the same team or the same college?"

"You’re gaining huge popularity and a huge repsect. You’re teammates will trust you after that." Mckay laughed." So if I understand correctly, a good fuck with a cheerleader captain is the deal?" asks Nate. "Got it all figured out, man. But one advice, close the door of your room when you’re inside."

Mckay’s expression changes, it becomes empty and hard. Filled with hate and sadness. Nate nods, and as he was about to speak the door opens. Drawing the attention of Nate and the latter.

"Chris, your aunt is here, comes to help her carry her boxes." said his mother. "Is she already there?" asked Chris sighing." Yes, she’s already here, with her daughter, so be nice and come now." Demands her mother.

Chris gets up and Nate follows him, they go outside where, his head car is parked. Chris hugs his aunt and takes boxes, Nate only says hello and helps her carry her boxes.

Nate poses where he needs to, he goes back out when he crosses a small head out of the bathroom.

Nate looks at the girl and he feels something, he doesn’t move me and she doesn’t either. He looks at the girl.

She is small, her hair is black braided, long eyelashes that put her brown hazelnut eyes in values , black skin but which shone thanks to the passage of the sunset in the long corridor. Nate begins to detail her body, she has beautiful boobs, a slim waist and beautiful hips that enhance her legs.

She’s wearing a Brazil jersey with black shorts, a cyclist? He doesn’t know, but anyway, this girl makes him feel what no other girl has ever made him feel not even Maddy.

"Y/N" says Chris enthusiastically. Y/N looks at Nate looking away at Chris. "Did you miss me?" she asks trotting towards him.

Chris laughs and hugs her. Nate remains in his thoughts for a short time.

______________________________________________

Nate learned a lot about Y/N. She’s her age, she likes to read, write and fine art, she doesn’t have a boyfriend and something that makes Nate want to have her, in two weeks, they’ll share the same campus.

They go to the same college, she looks so pure and kind, Nate intends to make sure that she lives only by him.

Nate falls in love every time she talks to him and that’s a big problem for our football star.

Especially when Y/N won’t just attract his attention.

______________________________________ [PART 2]

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sleepy-sham · 5 months ago

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Having a grand time imagining AOT characters in the Olympics:

Obviously Sasha would do archery

I'm picturing Jean & Connie as a famed beach volleyball duo which brings me great joy

Bertholdt's tall ahh could play basketball. Same with Ymir (Freckles) & Yelena

Reiner as a wrestler & Annie as a boxer

Historia in artistic gymnastics. I think balance beam would be her best event. I think Pieck & Petra are also on the team: Petra's best event is uneven bars & Pieck's is vault--she's known for being tiny but still getting great height. Also I can see Marcel & Porco Galliard as male gymnasts. They're a famed duo bc they get very competitive in individual events against each other but always bring home the win for the team event

If Gabi were old enough OBVIOUSLY she'd be a sharpshooter. I think Floch would be too. Specifically Gabi doing air rifle and Floch doing air pistol.

Eren I'm struggling with. I love soccer player Eren but I kinda wanna give him something else? Something more unique since the Olympics feature such a myriad of different sports. Idk please let me know if you have thoughts on this!!!

The Ackermans I also struggle with since they would dominate at essentially anything they competed in. I like Levi as a fencer though. Mikasa I'm still ruminating on (again please tell me your thoughts if you have any). Maybe she could play indoor volleyball?

Erwin is a famed Olympic swimmer who set a lot of records in his youth. Miche was on his relay team. Erwin was the flag bearer for Paradis several years bc he was one of their most famous athletes ever. Then he was in a terrible car accident and lost his arm. Everyone assumed that was it for him but Erwin never quits. He's now the face of the Paralympic games.

Another obvious one is Zeke in baseball (which they don't have in this Olympiad☹️)

I like Nanaba as a long distance runner or triathlete

Oluo, Eld, & Gunther are all equestrians

Colt is a young swimmer. Erwin is his idol. Niccolo is also a swimmer

Idk where it came from but the words "Onyankapon" & "shotput" just popped into my head & I like it. I think he'd look sick af throwing a shotput even if doesn't have the typical build of a shotputter. Maybe a medium distance runner?

Moblit does table tennis. He seems so calm & collected & chill but he gets in a ping pong match & he's like Mose & Dwight in that one episode of The Office

Armin is a cyclist. I can't decide indoor or outdoor. But definitely normal cycling, like, not mountain biking or anything. I think he'd look so cute in a bike helmet with his face all serious & focused:3

I cannot figure out Hange. I want her to do something truly wacky. Comment what you think the craziest summer Olympic sport is

#i put. way too much thought into this #idk theyre my two hyperfixations so it was bound to happen #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #olympics #2024 olympics

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alexbkrieger13 · 9 months ago

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Double vision

Partners on and off the pitch, Bayern pair Pernille Harder and Magdalena Eriksson have firm convictions on all the big topics facing women’s football in an era of exciting growth and mounting pressures

In a room at Bayern München’s training ground, Magdalena Eriksson and Pernille Harder are talking bicycles. One of their favourite things about Munich, the place they have both called home since making the switch last summer from Chelsea to Bayern, is the ease of travel for cyclists in the Bavarian capital.

Eriksson: “Now we live quite centrally so we can use our bikes to get anywhere.”

Harder: “It is a bit easier to bike here in Munich than in London.”

Magda: “We even took our bikes to Oktoberfest once.”

Pernille (laughs): “We were biking straight!”

This is the beauty of an interview with the pair (even one conducted over Zoom, as this one is): you raise a subject and they bounce it around between them, their insights and reflections interspersed with lighter moments and laughter. And, as arguably their sport’s highest-profile couple – Harder is a two-time UEFA Women’s Player of the Year, Eriksson a Sweden stalwart – they have plenty to say.

Both care deeply about matters on and off the football pitch. They are members of UEFA’s Football Board (of which more later), they support the Common Goal project – pledging one per cent of their salaries to support football charities – and on top of that they are advocates for the LGBTQ+ community.

But, first, back to finding their feet in Munich, where the duo bring serious know-how to a Bayern side with big ambitions, despite an early exit from the Champions League in January. In Harder’s case, the Denmark forward knew German football already from her three years with Wolfsburg between 2017 and 2020. For Eriksson, after six seasons in England with Chelsea, this is an entirely new experience – which is exactly what she was hoping for.

“I think that’s how we are as people,” says the former Blues captain. “A reason why we moved is I am really curious about a new culture and a new environment.” From the sounds of things, that decision is paying off too. Away from the pitch, she is enamoured of the local coffee shops; on it, she has been impressed by the way “a lot of the girls take responsibility around the dressing room and with how things should work around the team. There’s quite a clear structure of different responsibilities, and the players take ownership of that. That’s something more like how it was in Sweden, and not at all in England. It makes us take responsibility and it’s something I appreciate.”

As for Harder, she elaborates on the unique culture of Germany’s biggest football club – one which attempts to marry sustained success with humility. “It really is a club where you have to work hard, be humble but also know your worth,” she says. “It’s a bit weird. There is no arrogance: we know we’re good, we know we are a big club, but we know we also have to work hard. There’s a lot of respect for each other, and it’s not only in our team. When we go to the campus and meet the academy boys or some of the other staff, you have the respect. You treat others the way you want to be treated, and that’s a really good value which aligns with my values.”

Now both in their thirties – Eriksson is 30, Harder 31 – they knew the women’s game before its lift-off moments of recent years. Thus, they bring a helpful sense of perspective to any discussion of its development, and how it might evolve in years to come.

If female footballers today have opportunities beyond the dreams of previous generations, they face pressures unknown by their predecessors too, as Eriksson explains. “I think there are two sides to every story. Maybe, when we grew up, there wasn’t that much pressure, but with a growing platform [and how] the women’s game is growing, there is also growing pressure. The fans are growing, social media is growing, so there are two sides to it.

“We can really help the younger generation of today to deal with that kind of pressure, which you have to be able to manage as a footballer,” she adds. “You have to find what you need to focus on and what you should really just shut off and not focus on. You need to find the people that you talk football with and the people’s opinions you shouldn’t care about.”

Harder picks up the thread: “When we were younger, there was only one focus and that was football – to get better and to win. It was just football: that was the thing we played for. Now, there is so much more and, with social media, it’s also about a lot of individual awards, individual recognition, when the focus should be on the team. And I think it’s easier to be distracted [from] having that right focus. That’s something important to think about…”

“And to remind yourself about on a daily basis,” Eriksson cuts in. “And also to spread that within the team – that it’s a team sport and the team wins, the team loses, the team scores, the team concedes. All of those things.”

“Except when Magda scores!” adds Harder with a laugh, teasing her partner over a goal she scored in the week of this interview.

Jokes aside, the pair obviously think a lot about the game, which makes them natural choices to sit on UEFA’s Football Board, the body set up last year to draw on the knowledge of current and former players and elite coaches in the shaping of women’s football. For Eriksson, it’s “inspiring to know you get a direct line to some really big decision-makers”, and the welfare of players – “the football calendar and making football sustainable” – is something both women are keen to highlight.

“We all want a long career, but sometimes if you have to play all the time and have no break, that will shorten it,” says Harder. “Often, we have tournaments in the middle of summer or late summer, so we have four or five weeks before the tournament for our summer holiday, but then we don’t really have that time off because you train to prepare for the World Cup. And then, after the World Cup, [Magda] had ten days and I had two weeks off, and then you just go straight back into it. So, you have to put the tournaments earlier so you have at least four weeks after when you can really, medically, relax and be ready for the new season. Everything else is just too hard mentally and for the body.”

“It was the same last year with the EURO and the amount of injuries we saw after,” says Eriksson, who, ironically, just days after our interview, suffered a metatarsal fracture in her left foot. “Again, [it was] a couple of weeks off for a few, even less for others, and then you are straight back into a high-performance environment where you immediately have to play games. Finding a balance in the calendar where you get the breaks at the right time and don’t have too many games in short spaces of time is the most important thing.

“The fact we are starting now to do research on women’s bodies and women’s players is the first step. With the way we train, the way we train conditioning, everything is based on research on men’s football players, men’s athletes. We don’t know if it’s the same for us. Should we train more or less, or in a different way?”

From Harder comes further food for thought. “When you think about it, we use the same football as the men. It isn’t that I want to change it, but it’s also the same size of pitch and we don’t have the same body; we don’t have the same strength in the muscles. I don’t know the impact from every time I shoot or make a pass, if that’s actually a bigger impact on my muscles than it is on a man’s. That’s something I think it would be quite interesting to look at. I don’t know if it’s something we want to change and have a lighter ball. Maybe it’s just small percentages of how heavy the ball is that could change it.”

“There is rivalry in women’s football, but respect, love and joy always come first”

It’s fascinating to hear this to and fro on the physical side of the game they love, and it’s not the only challenge they see. We talk too about misogyny and what Harder describes as “a mindset of some people who don’t want to change [and see] that women can also play football, women can also be commentating on men’s football, that they also have knowledge about football. They have their mindset and their values about it and it’s really difficult for them to change.”

What is not in question is that women’s football has taken giant steps already in terms of status and recognition. As the commercial opportunities grow, however, neither woman wants to lose the things that make it different from the men’s game. Eriksson recalls the celebratory atmosphere in Australia and New Zealand during the last Women’s World Cup; she cites too the friendly fan dynamics in the club realm.

“We are coming off the back of a fantastic World Cup where there were only positive emotions connected to the games. Of course, some teams win, some teams lose – that’s part of football – but the way the tournament was held and the fan culture, that was amazing. So much positivity, so much joy, and that’s everywhere in women’s football fan culture right at the moment. That is what we want to keep. In women’s football, that rivalry is still there, but the respect, the love and the joy is always what comes first.”

The last word comes from Harder, ever the finisher. “It won’t be easy to keep it like that, but that at least is the aim.”

#great interview #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #woso #fc bayern frauen #fcb frauen #swewnt #denwnt #hardersson #wlw #swewnt article

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hopelesslys-world · 1 year ago

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50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.

Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.

That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.

Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.

Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.

I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!

I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

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Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.

“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”

Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.

“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.

“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.

“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.

I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.

“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.

“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”

“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”

“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”

“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.

“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.

“Oh?”

Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.

“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.

“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”

“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.

“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.

“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.

“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?

“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.

I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.

This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.

“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.

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It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.

Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.

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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.

It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.

I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.

Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.

“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.

It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.

“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”

“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.

I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:

‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’

Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

“First Editions,” I whisper.

“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”

I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”

“What does this card mean?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”

I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?

He told me that I wasn’t for him.

“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.

“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”

“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”

“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.

“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.

“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.

“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.

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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.

“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.

“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”

“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”

“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”

“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”

“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.

Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.

Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.

I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.

I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.

Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.

Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.

If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.

Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.

“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.

“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.

“Y/N, have you been drinking?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m...curious. Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.

“A bar in Portland.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.

“Which bar are you in?”

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.

He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.

Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”

“Where in Portland?”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Y/N!”

I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.

The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.

Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.

What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?

Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.

I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.

It makes me feel old.

She’s here somewhere.

Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.

Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.

Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.

“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.

“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.

“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”

Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.

“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.

“Outside? Where?” I shout.

“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.

Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.

Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.

Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.

Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.

“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.

For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.

He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.

Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.

Oh, shit!

“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.

Fucking idiot.

Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.

“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.

Boy, she’s got it bad.

Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.

Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”

“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.

Okay, let’s have some fun.

“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.

“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”

Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.

Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.

She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.

“My brother can tell her.”

“What?”

“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”

“Oh?”

“He was with me when you called.”

“In Seattle?”

“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”

“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”

I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.

As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.

“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.

“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.

I freeze.

Shit.

My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.

“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.

What?

I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.

“Drink.”

Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.

“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.

And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.

My mood plummets further.

Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.

She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.

Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.

With a tug, she’s in my arms.

This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.

Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.

“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.

He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.

Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.

“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.

“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.

“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”

She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.

I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.

Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.

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She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.

And this isn’t?

In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.

She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.

I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.

“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.

Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.

“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.

Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.

•••

From: Christian Grey

RE: Miss Anastasia Steele

Date: May 20, 2023 23:46

To: J B Taylor.

——

Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.

Skirt: Black Size 4

Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4

Boots: Black Size 7

Socks: Size 7

Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C

Thank you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

•••

Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.

Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.

He texts by return.

Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)

His response makes me snort.

I so do, Elliot. I so do.

I open my work e-mail and begin to read.

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Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.

I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.

She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

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