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evilminji · 4 months

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You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #that baby is my great grandpa! au #spice up the cloning au #minji's writing

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klausysworld · 8 months

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I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.

Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.

Left for dead

Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.

Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.

Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"

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momodita · 4 months

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snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au, minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me divorced father of 3...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.

“Move over.”

Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.

“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.

“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”

“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.

“This is my apartment!”

You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.

It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.

Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.

“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.

“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.

“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.

(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)

“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”

Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”

Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.

“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.

“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”

“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”

“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”

“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.

“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.

“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”

“Hey—”

“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”

Chilchuck splutters. “No!”

“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”

“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”

“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.

“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”

His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.

“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”

“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”

“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.

“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.

“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”

“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”

“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”

Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.

You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.

“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.

“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.

“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.

“Guess you are.”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi fic #dungeon meshi x reader #snapshot fic #reader insert #food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting #momodita fic

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prettieinpink · 6 months

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5K SPECIAL | CREATING YOUR OWN GARDEN𝜗𝜚

This is a guide to make your mind like your own garden flourishing with plants, flowers and butterflies. Having a good mental mindset, and being in the right state of mind is essential to being the best version of yourself.

This guide is divided into four sections: mindset, self-care, mental wellness and emotional intelligence. I hope you can take away something useful and take care of yourself! 💖

MINDSET

Your mindset can easily determine how you go through life. It influences how you feel, act, behave and your thoughts. When you have a poor mindset, it is going to be difficult to go through life, even if your life is easy.

However, once we grow and improve our minds, it is easier for us to navigate life, improve our well-being and increase our chances of success.

Before we get into mindset shifts, I want to explain how exactly you can implement them in your life. I feel like there’s so much talk about mindset, but no one exactly explains on how to implement them.

IMPLEMENTING

The first thing to implementing mindset shifts is making a conscious effort to be aware of your thoughts. If you want, practice mindful activities to improve your self-awareness of your thoughts.

You have to be able to catch a thought in its passing and whoosh it away from your mind. If you don’t whoosh it away, those simple thoughts build each time which can soon turn into the way you think.

Secondly, after increasing your awareness, identify what exactly about your thoughts or mindset you’d like to shift, and what you would like to shift to.

Thirdly, is to completely immerse yourself in that mindset shift. The mind learns through repetition, meaning that repeating it enough will make your mind learn it.

Set your mindset shift as your weekly intention, say affirmations, and prayer, read books on it, put a quote on your phone as your wallpaper, just make it so that mindset shift is constantly on your mind.

Lastly, do small actionable things that reinforce that mindset shift. I recommend you do at least one habit every day for this.

This is not the only method to implement mindset shifts, but for me, it’s the one that is highly effective. I recommend doing some research on your own, and making adjustments when needed depending on how you think.

MINDSET SHIFTS

This whole part we’ll talk about the mindset shifts I think everyone should at least try to implement in their lives if they want to improve themselves. These mindset shifts are my absolute favourites and they improved the quality of my life.

After each one, I’ll state a small habit you can incorporate that contributes to that shift.

Live your life with your highest self in mind.

This is more intentional living than an actual mindset shift, but still as important. Whatever you do throughout the day, consider if it aligns with your highest self. If not? Release it. Your highest self knows what's best for you, trust them.

At the end of the day, reflect on your daily habits, which include all habits you did today whether they were ideal or not. What habits aligned with your highest self and which didn’t? The ones that didn’t, why? How can you change or remove this habit to get closer to your highest self?

Rejection is just redirection.

As someone who has gotten rejected from the things that they wanted and felt so lost in the pursuit of fulfilment, this mindset shift saved me. You have to stop chasing the things that aren’t meant for you if life has proved it isn’t.

While I’m not saying give up after the first try, but try to step back and assess the situation. If you are qualified and ready for this thing, then why is it still not yours? Because it isn’t meant for you. God is trying to nudge you into a different path, recognise his signs.

To handle rejection better, look for the lesson(s) you’ve learnt, and the skills you grew and see if there is another area of life that you can apply them to.

Keep yourself on a pedestal.

I am worthy so much to me. It sounds like a weird sentence, but you should start treating yourself like a treasure and avoid giving out that same treatment to most people because you have your soul, which homes itself in your body. Every day, you are living through this soul and body.

So, why would you take care of someone else’s soul and body? You are never going to be the soul that lives in their body, or the body which homes their soul. Don’t neglect yourself in the priority of someone else.

Practice setting boundaries with others and recognising when someone wants more than what you’re willing.

You choose the life that you want.

You have choices and options every day to do things that will eventually have an outcome. Whether this outcome supports the vision of your dream life or not, all depends on how you choose to live your life now.

I don’t have a habit with this one but keep in mind that absolutely nothing is controlling you, and your choices are of free will. Circumstances can change, but that is why we have to adapt and be flexible.

Fear is a step to success

If you’re not scared, you’re not doing it right. Fear can hold us back, but that is why we have to twist fear into a source of motivation instead. If we were always in our comfort zone, stepping back when we feel a sliver of fear, we allow fear to dictate our life and its course.

You can’t be successful unless you do the uncomfortable. For this one, do something each day that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be anything extreme, but simple things like exercising longer than usual or talking to someone who you wouldn’t imagine yourself with. Those little risks are so important.

Embarrassment is not a real emotion

This one is a bit controversial, but I do not believe in the concept of embarrassment. Yes, things can sometimes be awkward, but it is fully in your control if you want to feel ashamed or not. Being embarrassed only holds you back, and doesn’t allow you to live life to its fullest.

I would recommend doing a small risk every day as well, but of things that would usually feel awkward.

Progress over perfection/completion

Perfectionism which is allowed to be nurtured over time can create an avoidance mindset towards doing harder things in life. While we should strive for excellence in everything we do, we shouldn’t allow it to consume us.

(the avoidance mindset is when we put off/avoid tasks that we believe to be out of our abilities, and so that completion of the task is poor quality/not done well.)

This one is less common, but I know a few people who would not do a task if they knew it would not be fully completed in their desired time frame. However, each minute of work contributes to the results or completion of something.

Every day, do one thing that will add up to the completion of your long-term goals.

To welcome tomorrow, you have to let go of yesterday.

Living in the past makes us neglect our present self. I’m not saying forget everything that’s happened, but never allow the past to consume your mind. Acknowledge that you’ve been hurt, you’re longing or you were happier. Then, release it.

Journaling is the perfect way to stay in touch with the present. You can type it, write it, vlog, draw, or compose to journal.

Everyone has their beauty.

This one helped me a lot with comparison. I saw beauty, not as a measure or a value of someone, but rather something that everyone has uniquely and it cannot be valued. I have my sense of beauty, and you have your beauty as well. We are two different people with unique features, traits and qualities, so our ‘beauty’ can’t be measured against each other.

Define your beauty. You could be smart, feminine, book beauty or dark, flowers, creative beauty. You add your details to your beauty and never try to define someone else's.

To conclude this section, your mindset is very powerful. To achieve your goals, work on your mindset. Also, don’t try to work on more than one mindset shift at a time. Implement one fully then work on the next one. It could be overwhelming if you’re doing more than one.

SELF-CARE

The next chapter of this guide is about self-care. Self-care is important for maintaining balance in our lives and generally keeping ourselves happy. However, most people don’t understand the concept of self-care, so they just end up doing a bunch of random things and wondering why they don’t feel better.

Yes, you can coddle or pamper yourself when you want, but it is not self-care. While activities from these three things do overlap, do not confuse the terms with each other.

Self-care is simply what it says. Taking care of yourself. Taking care of yourself looks different for everyone. My idea of self-care will be different to yours.

REDEFINING SELF-CARE.

When you imagine what self-care looks like, it’s typically someone else’s definition of self-care which has been reinforced in your mind. You have to redefine your idea of self-care to match your goals, energy levels and circumstances.

Before you do, self-care is not always about taking a break. It seems that way, however, self-care can also be having the discipline to do the things that you don’t want to, but are good for you.

Here are some questions to help you redefine your self-care:

What does self-care mean to you? Does that meaning align with your current values and needs?

Do you have any negative associations or misconceptions of self-care? Why?

How do I feel in all areas of my life? (physically, mentally, spiritually, professionally). What areas need more attention and how can I improve that area(s)?

What activities bring me happiness, fulfilment and a sense of renewal?

What tasks do I have to do, which are good for me but I hesitate in completing that task?

How would I like to feel after complementing my self-care rituals?

Envision your life if it had complete balance and self-care incorporated. What habits would you be doing to support that vision?

My idea of self-care is completing all of my non-negotiables, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, taking somewhat productive breaks and talking to others daily.

THE SEVEN PILLARS OF SELF-CARE

Self-care has seven pillars, which you all need to take care of to have a balanced life. However, balanced self-care does not mean equal attention to each pillar. It means that each one is up to the same standard of self-care you’ve put for yourself. So, you need to allocate your attention appropriately.

MAJOR PILLARS

Physical - The well-being of your body.

Mental - The state of your mental health, mind and emotions.

Spiritual - The strengthening of your relationship with God while nourishing your holy spirit.

Personal - Doing things that bring you enjoyment and fulfilment + embracing your identity.

MINOR PILLARS

Social - Connecting with friends, family or even strangers.

Professional - Your work/school life.

Environment - Keeping your space clean and extracting anything that holds you back.

Major and minor do not add or take away the value each category has, it just means that major pillars may need more attention compared to the minor ones which may need less attention. Of course, you may need to focus more on a minor pillar, as self-care is individual to you.

I would’ve added a list of things that you could do for each category, but I want you to think about what you need for each instead of relying on strangers with different lives for self-care.

Maybe you need to focus on exercising and doing your hobbies more. Or you need to create a better work/life balance for yourself. It all depends on your values, needs and circumstances.

MENTAL WELLNESS

Mental wellness is the state of our cognitive, emotional and psychological functioning. When we are mentally well, we can cope better with challenges, develop a habit of having positive thoughts, and greater happiness and improve most areas of our lives overall.

There are a lot of things that contribute to our mental wellness, and I most likely won’t have everything here. Just a little disclaimer as well, it is completely normal to have a fluctuating mental state especially when we are going through unfavourable change.

DIGITAL MINDFULNESS

Social media is a huge part of our lives but is also the main factor of mental destruction. I’m not going to say delete all of your social media, but I want to introduce to you a few ways to mindfully consume and rules with managing screen time.

MINDFUL CONSUMPTION

To consume content mindfully, go onto apps intentionally and know what your purpose is when using that app. For example, if you want to find new habits that you can do, you could search on Tumblr or if you want a quick break from something stressful you can watch an episode of something on Netflix.

It doesn’t matter what the purpose exactly is, but the action of being intentional.

After you consume what you want, download images, and screenshots, and take notes or any documentation of what you found/learnt. This is more so the information is remembered/used.

Manage your notifications. You do not need notifications from every app. Except for messages and phones, I do not put notifications on my device. I believe that if something is important enough, I’ll remember to check my phone later without the help of a notification.

Only consume quality content. It is so easy to consume content that has obviously been reposted or is blatantly spreading misinformation. Only consume from people who you trust and you’ve followed/subscribed to. While yes, you can explore but be very mindful when doing so.

You should be decluttering, organising and deleting on your devices routinely. This reduces the amount of distractions on your phone and makes it more intentional. Only keep the things that align with your needs, values and goals.

DIGITAL BOUNDARIES

Have rooms or zones in the house in which you’re not allowed to use any devices or the devices you choose. For example, the bed, bathroom, office, when you’re eating at the dining table, etc.

An alternative is having a period of a day when device usage is not allowed. It could be right after you wake up, right before you go to sleep or just in the middle of the day. Either, I recommend you have a time or place in which device usage is not allowed.

While I encourage everyone to keep up with socialising with their loved ones and friends, I don’t support dropping everything just to talk to someone. E.g If somebody wants to text while you’re in the middle of a study sesh, just say you’ll talk later.

MANAGING STRESS

Stress is an unwelcome yet common feeling we all have. No matter what’s on your plate, we tend to stress a lot, especially in a society that is going so fast and makes us feel like we’re falling behind.

To manage stress, you need to be self-aware of when you feel stressed. A lot of people actually can’t recognise when they feel stressed, and I am one of those people. Instead, I rely on mental or physical signs that tell me I’m feeling stressed out.

SIGNS OF STRESS

Unusual lack of motivation or discipline

Feeling tired constantly even if haven’t done anything exhausting

Inconvenience impacts you more

Overthinking about small things

Trouble with sleeping

Low appetite

Focusing is harder

Crying or feeling tearful over small things

This is not the complete list of symptoms, but these are the things I feel/do when I feel stressed. Stress will look different for everyone, so you need to be able to create your own list of signs when you feel stressed.

CREATING A STRESS MANAGEMENT PLAN

Creating a plan helps you to be prepared to effectively address and cope with stress. It allows you to be more productive and improves mental health when you use this plan when needed.

Here are a few steps to creating your own!

Identify stress triggers. What do you dread the most? What makes you feel drained? What do you overthink about? Answer these questions to figure out what triggers your stress.

Assess your coping strategies. Notice if you have any ways of coping that are self-destructive, as this only contributes to your stress.

Choose 1-3 activities that are fun to you and are not self-destructive. These activities do not have to be productive or beneficial, but they have to make you feel relaxed and generally feel better

Choose one relaxation technique and one self-care activity. These are up to you, as we tend to neglect self-care relaxation when we’re stressed.

Optional, but have one person who you can talk to when you’re stressed. When we are stressed, we tend to look at the smaller picture but talking to someone else helps us gain a greater perspective on the matter.

PRETTIEINPINK’S EXAMPLE PLAN

(If doing something that is my stress trigger, slot a time in the day to do my plan.)

Journal about why I’m stressed

Make a cup of strawberry and mango tea

Read a nice story while drinking tea

Guided stress meditation

Eat some fruits

Another thing when creating you plan to not restrict yourself using time. Allow yourself to take as much time as needed to alleviate yourself of stress.

EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE

Being emotionally intelligent is a skill. It is the ability to understand, process and communicate emotions effectively.

There are times when we do sometimes let our emotions take over and they dictate our actions, thoughts and words. This is why we need to build this skill, to get that control over our emotions back.

Thinking before you speak is an oldie but goodie. What we say can drastically influence the current situation for better or for worse. If you think that what you might say is rude, offensive or crude, don’t say it at all.

Also, stay quiet! I am all for standing up for yourself when being disrespected, but you need to recognise when someone is trying to rile you up... They WANT a reaction out of you. Most likely to use against you. Silently exit the situation instead.

If you are someone who gets a lot of energy from big emotions like anger, dejection, sadness, and jealousy, try to channel that energy into something that requires you to have a lot of energy and is beneficial to you. Keeping that energy in until you blow up is a no-no.

Not everyone is trying to hold you back with ill intent. People’s previous experiences can influence the advice they give to you because they have your best interest at heart. They know that their method worked, which is why they’re advising it. These types of people don’t understand that there is more than one way, but they still love you.

Avoid prolonging emotions. When you’re sad, don’t listen to depressing music. When you’re angry, don’t consume ragefuel. It’s very easy in this age of consuming to amplify therefore prolonging emotions, but it holds us back. Process it, and move on.

Stop acting on a whim. Go where your heart takes you, but reflect on it and create a plan. When you do, you end up in unfavourable circumstances. The most common one is working so hard to get to a certain point, only to realise that you don’t even like it. This is why reflection is important.

Be kind even when you’re not receiving it. Kindness is only kind when we do it out of pure love instead of personal gain. Stop expecting people to be kind to you after you’ve been kind to them. Kindness is a debt-free action.

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hotchnisslvr · 3 months

Text

“After Hours”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Summary: After ignoring orders on a case, Hotch calls you into his office to teach you an important lesson: there's no 'I' in team. (Highly Explicit)

Warnings: smut, p in v, blindfolds, bindings, delayed orgasm, vibrators, light choking, nipple clamps, dom!aaron hotchner

Words: 5.4k

Read on AO3:

Your spine stiffens as he calls your name. His voice is flat, but you know that tone. Just your name on his lips is an order all its own.

Derek’s eyes meet yours as you rise from your desk. “Good luck,” he whispers, though you’re the only two in the bullpen. You’d stayed late to finish paperwork after the closing of your most recent case before the weekend.“Nothing good ever comes from that tone.”

You smooth the front of your skirt and adjust the front of the button-up blouse that’s tucked into it. You thank Morgan as you pass his desk and he nods before hunching back over the file he’d been working on. Swallowing your nerves, you ascend the stairs toward his office. The blinds are shut, but the yellow light of the lamps peeks out from around the edges.

Hesitantly, you rap your knuckles against the door.

“Come in,” Hotch answers.

You do as he says and he doesn’t look up from the file on his desk. “Shut the door.”

Again, you do as you’re told and stand awkwardly by it, awaiting further instruction.

“Sit.”

He doesn’t indicate where you should sit; the couch or one of the two leather backed chairs in front of his desk. You choose the chair closest to the door and cross your legs, and hope he can’t hear how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage.

“You went into that warehouse, alone, before we could confirm whether the unsub was there.”

“Sir—”

“Don’t interrupt,” he orders and you clamp your lips shut. “I understand that your actions resulted in saving that girl’s life. You were able to control the bleeding until medics could arrive. Your actions, brave as they were, were reckless and stupid.”

His words sting and you have to fight to school your facial expression, but you can feel the crimson rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

“You got lucky,” he continues, his voice hard. “We were able to apprehend the unsub as he was returning, but you had no idea if he was there or not. You didn’t wait for backup. We work as a team, you know this. The minute we start acting on impulse is the minute one of us gets hurt, or worse.” His eyes are steeled when they meet yours. “Do you understand?”

You nod your head, “Yessir.”

“Good,” he responds curtly.

“This can’t happen again,” he says, rising from his chair. Your eyes follow his movements as he shrugs out of his blazer and tosses it over his desk onto the vacant chair beside you. He steps from behind his desk and slowly approaches you, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves as he does so. He moves behind you and the click of him removing the paddle holster from his belt causes you to jump and you curse yourself for flinching.

“Something on your mind, agent?” he asks as he tosses his weapon onto the chair beside you.

You straighten your posture and answer him with as much nonchalance as you can muster. “No, sir. I’m just wondering if this will result in a write up or other form of disciplinary action.”

“As far as the Bureau is concerned, you saved that girl’s life. A meeting with me is all that’s needed to review your actions.” The soles of his dress shoes click against the tile and you feel his presence behind you.

“Whether you feel like another disciplinary action is necessary is entirely up to you.”

He always leaves the decision-making to you, but if this happens, it’ll be the first time it’s ever happened in his office, at your place of work. The thought terrifies you, but thrills you all the same.

So you dip your chin in the slightest of nods and the click of the lock on his door solidifies what’s about to happen.

“Good girl.”

Your nipples harden at the sound of his praise and you splay your fingers against your thighs, pressing the tips of your fingers into the muscle to keep yourself under control. Your body betrays you though as you feel your underwear dampen, your arousal building already. God, fuck him and his ability to do this to you with words alone.

His shoes click against the floor as he nears you and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You watch, eyes hungry, as he removes his necktie. He steps behind you once more and the familiar feel of silk over your eyes is almost a comfort as he secures it at the back of your head. With one sense cut off, you immediately feel your arousal’s intensity increase tenfold and you nearly want to cry out and come right then and there. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could do this to you.

Your chest is already heaving as you feel his hands slide over your shoulders and his mouth finds your ear. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, his breath hot on your skin. “What’s your safe word?”

“Sage,” you breathe quietly.

“Good girl,” he murmurs and his hands slide over your breasts. You try to moan, but his hand quickly clamps over your mouth, firmly, but not enough to hurt you. His lips find your ear again, “Derek’s gone home for the night but Rossi is working late right behind that wall.” You can’t see it, but you know exactly how close his office is in proximity to Rossi’s. “So, keep quiet.” His hands slide over the fabric of your bra and you squirm against them. “Or I’ll have to gag that pretty little mouth.”

You swallow and nod to affirm your understanding. Your hands have moved to the arms of the leather chair, your fingers pressing into the material as you await his next move. Slowly, he unbuttons the first few buttons of your blouse and you shiver as the backs of his knuckles brush against your skin as he does so.

He slips his hands inside your bra and just holds both of your breasts for a moment, his thumbs skirting over the peaks of your sensitive nipples. You whimper and hear the soft laugh rumble from his lips. “Like diamonds,” he muses regarding the hardened tips and lifts both of your breasts, using the backs of his hands to push down the fabric of the cups so they sit prominently atop the underwire.

He hums low in his throat and your throat bobs. You feel his presence shift away from you. A drawer opens and items shuffle around. Something is turning and a soft click echoes in the room. “I figured it was only a matter of time before this happened in the office, so I tucked away a few…” he pauses as he draws nearer, “provisions.”

His cologne invades your senses, the cedar-based scent is intoxicating. He draws something small and metallic across your chest and a soft whimper escapes your lips. “Do you know what this is?” he asks, and you can hear the smile on his lips.

You lick your lips and whisper, “Yes.”

His fingers brush along one of your breasts and you inhale sharply as he rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back arches slightly against the chair and you feel the dampness between your thighs begin to spread. You squeeze your legs together to try and assuage the ache to no avail.

“I’ve hardly touched you and you’re already falling to pieces,” he murmurs as he nips at the skin of your breast. You hiss and barely stifle a yelp as the nipple clamp pinches into place. Instinctively, your body jerks forward and Hotch chuckles as he catches you. He flicks the now-swollen nipple and you bury your face into the fabric of his dress shirt to keep from shouting. The sharp sting of the clamp compounds your pleasure and you know what comes next, but nothing ever prepares you for the pinch of the second clamp. You bite down into the muscle of his pectoral through his shirt to stifle the yelp that escapes your lips, hissing and moaning as the feeling overwhelms your senses. The growl that Hotch emits in response is primal. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and you don’t even remember when you had thrown your arms around him.

His hands slide up and over your arms. He curves his hands to cuff around your wrists. “As much as I love your mouth on me,” he says darkly, his hold tightening. His nose pushes into your hair as he brings his lips to your ears. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

There’s no time to gasp as he pulls you to your feet and whirls you around so that your back presses into him, and you feel him pressing against you. The quick jostling causes the clamps to tighten and your nipples protest the pulling sensation. Hotch threads his arms through yours and palms your breasts, the warmth of his hands momentarily soothing the sting of the clamps. His fingers slide down your stomach to unbutton the remainder of your shirt, which he then pulls down and discards absentmindedly; leaving you in your knee-length pencil skirt and black stilettos. Your exposed skin bristles in the cool air conditioning.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructs and you do as you’re told.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your ears prick as he unbuckles his belt, and you feel the throbbing at your core increase. He loops the belt around your wrists and pulls the leather taught, binding them together.

He tugs the belt, indicating you to follow his movements and you do so. He guides you, one hand on the belt, and one on your back. Slowly, he pushes his hand forward along your spine, urging you to bend forward. Your breasts press into the wood of his desk and he pushes his pelvis against your ass, a soft moan escaping his lips as he presses his dick into the curve of your hip.

“I wonder,” he purrs as he releases his grip on the belt. You pull at the leather wrapped around your wrists, hoping to brush your fingers against his hands and miss them. He chuckles as his hand curves around your hip. His fingers drop below the waistband of your skirt and you squeeze your thighs together as they continue to dip between your legs. “Just as I thought,” he says. His fingers pass over your clit and even through your panties, the brief brush sends thousands of tiny bursts of energy pulsing through your nerve endings. You jerk forward against his hand and he chuckles. “So wet,” he hums. “I bet you’d love for me to take you right here, right now over my desk, and fuck you from behind until you remember there’s no ‘I’ in team.” His hand gently curves around the column of your throat, his fingers pressing gently into the sides of your neck as he draws you up to your full height. The movement causes the clamps to tighten around your nipples and you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. “Would you like that?”

You nod against his grip on your throat and feel your knees begin to shake, almost buckling. “Come on, baby,” he sings into your ear. “You know it’s not that easy.”

A pitiful whimper leaves your lips and you feel the laugh rumbling from deep within him. Hotch’s fingers drop from your hip and you miss the feeling already, even though you know it’ll only be moments before it’s back.

Suddenly, a buzz fills the air and you nearly fall to your knees when Hotch touches the vibrator to the swell of your breast. His reflexes are quicker than lightning as his hand drops from your throat so he can loop his arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

“If you’re that sensitive up here,” Hotch murmurs as he touches the vibrator once more to your breast. You gasp in response and he chuckles low in his throat. “I can only wonder,” he touches the vibrator to your navel and begins to drag it down the length of your abdomen, “what happens when I touch you down here.”

The vibrator grazes the fabric of your panties just north of your clit and you gasp aloud, an inhuman sound erupting from your lips. Hotch quickly lifts the vibrator and pulls you taut against his body as he falls into the chair behind his desk. Securely rooted on his lap, the hand around your waist snakes around your chest and covers your mouth. He kisses the hollow of your throat before his lips find your ear. “What did I say about keeping quiet?”

You swallow and mumble an apology followed by ‘sir,” and you feel his erection twitch against your thigh. A devious smile plays upon your lips and he can feel against his hand. He knows that you’re aware of how much power you have over him, but he’s about to do the same.

The vibrator dances along your thigh and your legs quake against his as you tuck your feet around his calves to hold yourself as steady as you’re able to.

“That’s right baby, anchor yourself against me.”

Your skirt rolls up your legs as you squirm against him and that only makes it easier for him to access the part of you he so desperately craves and you so desperately need him to touch.

He touches the vibrator to the southernmost part of you and you gasp against his hand as your body bucks against the sensation. Slowly, he drags the vibrator up your center and you feel the buzz like electricity in your veins. When it touches your clit, you moan. Hotch responds by lowering the speed of the vibrator to draw out the pleasure.

“Your moaning is music to me,” he murmurs as he kisses the column of your throat. Your chest heaves against his arm as he circles that tight bundle of nerves in small circles. “It tells me how much you’re enjoying this. Tell me,” he says, and his voice is low in his throat. “Are you enjoying this?”

You nod quickly against his hand and cry out against the palm of his hand as you feel the pressure in your abdomen begin to blossom.

“Do you want to come?” he asks. The hand over your mouth is still there, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

Again, you nod vigorously.

The pressure is building, that familiar warmth spreading through you. Your chest heaves. Your breaths become shallower as you cope with the budding orgasm. Just as the wave is about to crest, Hotch switches the vibrator off and pulls it away, halting the wave in its tracks.

You buck forward as the denial immediately sets in, leaving you wanting, needing more. Your clit throbs, pulsating against the damp fabric of your panties and you can only picture the smug look on Hotch’s face. He thinks he’s got you right where he wants you, but you know how to play this game too.

His erection sits right against your ass. Ensuring your feet are tucked tightly around his calves, you tighten your abdomen and roll your body, allowing your ass to grind against the entire length of him. His grip on you loosens as pleasure courses through him. He’d not been expecting that. You continue to grind against him and you feel each twitch of his dick beneath you. A tight moan escapes his lips, and you moan in response knowing it’ll get him all the more excited.

You feel him tilt his pelvis, leaning into the movement. He lowers his hand as he groans into your ear and a grin splits your lips. You turn your head and press a kiss at the corner of his lips.

“It’s not my turn,” Hotch murmurs, though it turns into more of a grunt as you continue working him through his pants

“I thought this was to remind me there’s no ‘I’ in team,” you say coyly. If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be batting your lashes at him because you know it makes him weak.

“You’re right,” Hotch answers. “We are a team.” The vibrator switches back and the sound stops you in your tracks, which simultaneously earns a frustrated sound from him. “And because I’m such a good team player,” he touches it to the spot just above your clit, which elicits a sharp whimper from you. His hand covers your mouth and he pulls you against him. In your ear he growls, “I’m going to skip my turn and let you have fun for a little while longer.”

You grind against the toy, passing it again and again over your clit. He’s allowing you to set the pace and you want to touch him, god you want to touch him. You pull against his belt around your wrists and whimper. “Let me out of these,” you pant against his hand. You want to run your fingers through his hair, and scratch your nails along his back. Hotch chuckles and you feel his cock jerk against you. “Not quite yet,” he murmurs, and it’s strained. He’s close too. If he didn’t let you out soon, he’d be cleaning up a mess inside his pants.

You groan as heat pools in your belly. Your aching clit throbs and you increase your pace; grinding against it and Hotch.

“Go ahead, baby,” he entices. “Come for me.”

Your chest heaves, your nipples straining against the clamps which only causes that wave to build even faster. The pressure builds quicker than you can keep up with. You lose the rhythm, but you don’t stop chasing that high. When the wave peaks, Hotch doesn’t pull the vibrator away. Instead, the pressure builds and builds until it has no choice but to release. You ride the vibrator through your orgasm until you collapse completely into his hold around you, your body jerking uncontrollably as the aftershocks pass through your body. The vibrator clicks off and you hear him set it down on the desk with a dull thud.

He drops his hand from your mouth and says nothing for a moment as you take deep breaths.

“Lean forward,” he orders quietly, and you do. His fingers make quick work of the belt around your wrists. Once loose, he drops it on the floor beside you and you bring your arms in front of you. The thick corded muscles that make up his arms thread through yours and he gently palms your breasts. You exhale sharply as he undoes the clamps around your nipples. With the tips of his fingers, he delivers a short series of massaging movements against the tender flesh. Finally, his fingers trail the sides of your face. They hook beneath the lip of the blindfold and gently pull it up and over your eyes.

You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim lamp-lighting and your eyes quickly land on his deep brown gaze. His lids are hooded as he looks at you, no that’s not the word, as he admires you. Your cheeks flush and you lean forward to kiss his lips. They part instantly for you and you slide your tongue into his mouth. You slip your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He groans into your mouth in response.

“I love the way you taste,” you mumble against his mouth.

You feel his lips smile against yours. “Nowhere near as good as you.”

You drop your hands to his shoulders and let your fingers find their way to the buttons of his dress shirt. You nip at his chest, leaving a purplish-red mark just beside his nipple. Your fingers brush the scars long since healed over from his run-in with Foyet as you explore his chest and abdomen with your hands. You need to feel all of him, to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

Hotch slips his hands under your ass as you undo the buttons of his tailored slacks. His erection forces the zipper open before you get the chance to unzip it, tenting his boxer briefs.

Eagerly, you hook your fingers into the hem of his Calvin Kleins and pull down. He lifts his hips, with you on top of him, so you can jerk them down. His cock bounces up against his abdomen, pearls of pre-cum beading at the tip of his length. You eye it hungrily, but before you go any further you unhook your legs from around his and shimmy out of your skirt and panties. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, not minding where it lands. When you return to sit on his lap, you slide your legs through each of the arms of his office chair and press your slick cunt against the length of his erection.

His head tips back as a low groan escapes his lips. You press your lips to the hollow of his throat before moving to suckle gently at his collarbone. The benefit of wearing a suit and tie day in and day out means you can mark him as much as you want and no one is the wiser. No one besides him and you that is.

You curve your hand around his cock. Slowly, you begin to pump him in your hand. As you gingerly massage his length, you press your breasts against his chest as you lie flat against him to whisper in his ear, “I think you’re ready to take me now.”

You smile as his eyes screw shut as you have him literally in the palm of your hand. You always love watching the tables turn when you play this game. Hotch nods and grunts out an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

“Very well,” you purr into his ear.

Standing on the tips of your toes, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and guide him to your entrance. As the blunt tip of his cock slides easily inside of you, you begin to sink down onto the length of him.

You both moan as he fills you, the width of his cock stretching your tight walls.

“God,” you gasp as you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder blades.

“No baby,” Hotch breathes. “He’s not in this room tonight. It’s just you,” he kisses you once, “and me.”

You roll onto the balls of your feet and push yourself up before sinking back onto your heels. This helps you get used to the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you.

“Find what feels good,” Hotch says. “You set the pace.”

You repeat the motion again, except this time leaning forward just so that his dick strokes against your g-spot with each thrust. From there you begin a steady rhythm, riding him at a pace where you can still manage to kiss one another without breaking your teeth as you get lost in the throes of endorphins and hormones.

Eventually, you feel that familiar pressure begin to build and his fingers squeeze into your hips. He’s nearing his own climax.

“I want you to come with me,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Help me get there, then,” you tease.

Hotch releases one of your hips and snakes his arm around your waist. His fingers find your clit without guidance and he begins teasing the tight bundle of nerves. For a split second, you lose the rhythm, but he helps you get it back by pumping his hips up to stroke that spot inside. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear, but as he begins to slam his cock up and into you, you know it won’t be very long now. You clutch at his shoulder blades, and he hisses as you dig your nails in deeper.

“Come for me, Hotch,” you plead. As your orgasm builds, you feel his breathing become erratic. “Aaron, I know you want to come in me.” You know using his first name drives him wild.

He grunts and drops his hand back to your hip, his grip bruising as he slams you down onto his cock. Each thrust strikes your g-spot and as his entire being locks up and his orgasm rattles through his body and pulses into you, your release follows almost immediately after.

You stay like that for a minute or two, a tangle of limbs. His arms wrap around your back, his palms flat against your slightly damp skin. He kisses your cheek once and helps lift you off his cock. You groan as he leaves you, and slickness from your combined arousal drips down your thighs.

Completely spent, he carefully stands, ensuring your legs don’t get stuck beneath the arms of his desk chair. Your legs feel like jelly, shaking and trembling as he lets go of you. He fastens the buttons on his slacks and tugs his dress shirt on, buttoning it haphazardly. A tired laugh escapes you as he scoops you into his arms and carries you to the leather sofa against the far wall of his office. He gently places you down and tucks his suit jacket over your shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll be right back.”

He ducks out of the room, careful to use his key and lock the door from the outside as he does so.

Your eyelids are heavy, and it takes everything in you not to tuck into the corner of the sofa and fall asleep right then and there. However, you don’t think the weekend cleaning crew would ever recover if they opened his office in the morning and saw you in this state.

The sound of his key in the lock brings you back to reality. You tug Hotch’s jacket tighter around you as the AC chills your sweat-dampened skin. He smiles at you as he enters the office. Hands full, he quietly shuts the door with his foot before approaching you.

He drops your go-bag by your feet and places two bottles of water on the table in front of you. He retrieves his own bag from beside his desk.

“I figured you’d want a change of clothes,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch.

“Astute observation,” you reply cheekily, though there’s a tiredness to your voice now.

He smirks in turn, “Come here.” He slips an arm around the small of your back, places his palm flat against your hip, and easily scoops you into his lap. He pulls his go bag onto the couch and unzips it. After rummaging for a few moments, he pulls out a small container of wipes, a washcloth, and a small container of something you can’t quite make out.

The lid on the container of wipes clicks open. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and begins to wipe down the back of your neck, your shoulders, and back; clearing the sweat away. He does the same to your chest, your breasts, and thighs. The wipe is cool against your skin and a chill runs down your spine.

He slides out from behind you, getting on his knees before you. He presses soft kisses to your inner thigh before using a fresh wipe to clean you up. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more formal,” he says with a soft smile. “You can take a proper shower at my apartment.”

You arch an eyebrow at that. “I’m coming home with you, now?”

He tilts his head. “Only if you want to.” He unzips your bag and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, the ones you take on every trip. He guides your feet through each leg and you reach to pull them up the rest of the way. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you bend down and his suit jacket falls aside revealing the marks he’d left on your breasts.

He sits and pulls you between his legs once more. This time he screws open the container he’d left sitting on the sofa. He scoops a small amount of the gel onto his fingers and rubs them together. “Lie back against me,” he says gently and he doesn’t have to say it twice. You roll back into the wide plane of his chest and let your head loll to the side. Your eyelids feel so heavy and you’d love to just curl up in his lap and fall asleep just like that. When the gel hits the sensitive skin of your nipples, you gasp.

“Shh,” he soothes as he rubs the gel onto your sore nipples. The movement is not sexual, but methodical, therapeutic even. There’s a cooling component to the gel and relief courses through the sensitive skin there.

He caps the jar, wipes his fingers on the washcloth, and pulls his hoodie out of your go bag. The letters ‘FBI’ were barely legible after how many dozens of washes it’d been through. The front pocket was barely hanging on and there was a hole in one armpit, but somehow the old thing held together. Hotch had considered his hoodie from the academy a good luck charm of sorts. He’d kept it with him his entire career with the Bureau, but when you first started seeing one another and you’d borrowed it after a night at his house, there was never any doubt that you should have it. He didn’t need it anymore, not with you around. He’d have all the luck he ever needed so long as you were there with him.

“What are you smiling at?” you ask as you let him help you out of his suit jacket and tug on the faded hoodie.

He passes you a bottle of water before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You place the bottle on the couch beside him and lay your head against his and squeeze his forearm with your hands. “Just how lucky I am,” he answers.

You close your eyes and lean into his hold, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.

He sits up suddenly, jostling you. “I meant to ask, did you want an ice pack? I think I might’ve held onto your hips a bit too hard there at the end.”

You arch an eyebrow and turn in his lap to loop your arms around his neck. You smile before kissing the downward slope of his nose. “My hips are fine, especially when they’re in your hands.

His thumb strokes your hip in response as he looks down at you from beneath his dark lashes. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

You nod. “Do you think if we order a pizza from the car, it’ll get there before us?”

Hotch smiles and helps you to your feet. He quickly gathers the things from your ‘lesson’ into the lockbox and tucks them into his go bag. He gathers your discarded clothes from around his office and tucks them into your bag. After he passes you the water bottle you’d discarded, he shoulders yours and his go bags. You’ll do laundry at his place over the weekend and repack it for the upcoming week.

He stretches an empty hand towards you, “Ready to go?”

You intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze. With the hand holding yours, he pulls you against his tall frame, the movement quick and unexpected. He captures your lips in a deep, final kiss. His arm is secure around the small of your back and you lean against it, gaze locked on his as you do so.

“Hey,” you breathe as you catch your breath. “Hotch?”

“Aaron,” he corrects with an arc of his dark brow.

“Aaron,” you repeat, drawing out his name, smiling as you see his own smile widen after using his first name.

His eyes search yours, and you let yours drop to his lips. “I’m still not sure I’ve learned my lesson.” You look up at him from beneath your lashes and bat them two, three times.

He kisses you again, both sets of your lips smiling as you fail to make it to the door. He pulls away with a breathless laugh, steps towards, and unlocks the door. As he opens it with his free hand he smiles at you, “Good thing your boss gave the team the weekend off.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch fic #x reader #female reader #smut #fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #drabble #bau team #bau reader #marchhotchness #f!reader

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ohtobeleah · 6 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Nine: The Pomegranate Theory

Summary: Jakes still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening with your health. Doctor Ignatii oversteps? And you settle in while Jake helps you write some of your newest book.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4.3K

Author Note: My birthday present to you all is a new chapter of Was It Over. Once again I just wanted to say thank-you all so very much for all the love and support you have given me throughout this series. It truly means the world to me.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet, sweet flesh.

When rushed, there is failure to collect all the seeds. Many men sacrifice the collection of its entirety for the sake of saving time. They'd rather risk the loss of a percentage of the fruit for immediate gratification. What we often fail to consider is that there may be a reason for the dissimilarities between men and women. We tend to point out that the majority of men don't have the same attention to detail that women do instead of focusing on our individual strengths, and how they can balance and support each other.

Instead, you chose, for the longest of times, to consider that your husband was willing to learn something that perhaps didn't come instinctively to him as it did to you. It's the energy you put into cutting and deseeding the metaphorical pomegranate that represented your marriage, but Jake never seemed to want to learn how to carefully harvest all those beautiful seeds.

You and Jake both collectively brought so much to your marriage, you both had something to learn from one another in order to grow. But choosing resentment when you decided to step away from the man you loved more than life itself was never an option.

Because resentment always leads to isolation:

“Okay small steps for me Y/n.” Doctor Ignatii asked as he held your arms and stood before you. Everything hurt, everything felt wrong. Everything was stiff and out of place, but the sooner you were up and walking even if it was only a few steps here and there–the quicker your recovery would be. Having a stroke wasn't exactly defined as a step in your cancer treatment plan. No, it came right out of the left field and took you, your mother and your doctors by total surprise. “That's it, small steps.”

“I don't think I should keep going, it feels wrong.” Your body didn't feel like your own, the ground underneath your no-slip socks felt uneven. Your feet felt like lead–heavy and weak at the same time. Your head had maintained a dull ache since you woke up post surgery that hadn’t gone away. Overall you just didn't feel like yourself and it showed.

“Your neurological pathways need time to re-adjust to normal.” Doctor Ignatii was hopeful you'd have a pretty smooth recovery, his worry about any deficits post stroke was at a pretty low concern level just based on how quickly they were able to react to the stroke itself. “Give yourself some time, I'll touch base with the plastics department and oncology to discuss your pre-op notes prior to your mastectomy.” Doctor Ignatii explained as Jake watched with crossed arms off to the side as you took a few uneasy steps around the room littered with Christmas lights and decorations for the holiday seasons. “It's gonna be a slow but steady recovery, we just wanna make sure prior to your mastectomy that your body can handle the additional stress it's placed under while in surgery. The fact you're taking baby steps right now is a really good sign.”

“Can I have a shower soon by any chance?” All you wanted was to not feel sticky and gross. “Is that in the realm of possibility any time soon?”

“Only if you try to walk to the bathroom.” Doctor Ignittii replied with a quick wit you appreciated, he wasn't treating you like a sudden gust of a strong wind your be knocked on your sare and you truly appreciated the vote of confidence from your doctor. “But sure, I don't have any problem with you showering, maybe ask for some help?” Doctor Ignatii gestured over to where Jake stood just watching over you. He kept his respective distance but his eyes never left yours. He’s yet to leave your side for more than twenty minutes to grab something to eat, drink and take a deep breath. He was still trying to process how quickly things had changed.

“Happy to help.” Jake teased as he sent you a wink, the half sided smirk was prevalent across his flustered but composed face. “Respectfully.”

“Respectfully–” You replied as you stood on your own, Doctor Ignatti had stepped aside to let you take the lead. “You need to call our children and let them know you haven't abandoned them at their grandmother's house.”

“I should do that, shouldn't I?” Jake sighed, he'd been avoiding the call all together. With it being Christmas Eve Eve and your surgery still going ahead as planned, it was a call Jake wasn't looking forward to making.

“I think it might be a good idea–” You slowly but surely sat down on the edge of your hospital bed, the IV poll you were gripping for dear life pumped against the side before Jake stepped a little closer to fix the tangled wires and cords. “Thanks.” You smiled softly as you watched him work.

“I'll let you know how our pre-op meeting goes, Mrs Seresin.” Doctor Ignatti interrupted with a quick tight lipped smile. “And–” Jake raised an eyebrow as your doctor paused in his tracks. “Although probably unsolicited, I've seen too many families come through these halls to know time is a fickle thing, if your kids aren't aware of your current situation, I favour the side of full transparency, no matter the age.”

You didn't know how to respond so you said nothing and settled on a simple nod with kind eyes to match. Jake however, wasn't as graceful with his snarky growl. He was the very embodiment of a protective German Shepherd with his guard up.

“It's a good thing we didn't ask for your opinion then isn't it.” Jake snapped, he didn't mean to take his insecurities out on the man who had if nothing else saved your life.he was still trying to figure out who this Jensen guy was. But he did and it made you frown with shock horror that such a snarky comment would come from your husband's mouth.

“You’re right, I overstepped.” Doctor Ignatti held it hands up as if to say he was sorry. “I apologise, I'll be back later with an update for you.” You said nothing, you simply chose to remain silent until your doctor had left the room and silence had once again fallen over you and Jake.

“I didn't mean–” Jake wanted to say he didn't mean to be so snappy. That he really didn't mean to bite the hand that saved his wife, But you

“You meant it.” The tone you used broke right through the exterior of Jake's hardened shell. Despite his inability to make it known that all Jake was trying to do in that very moment was show a united front on your decision to keep your family, your husband and subsequently your children in the dark about your current situation—he still helped you back into bed, tucked your legs under the Blau and fixed your pillows. “And he’s right you know, whether we want to hear it or not the kids probably need to know why you left so abruptly.” Jake's phone had been ringing off the hook since he left his mother's house. Jasmine was persistent regardless if Jake was answering or not. Constant texts, missed calls, updates on the kids she knew he was thankful for despite his missing in action status.

“You wanna tell the kids what’s going on?” You and Jake hadn’t really discussed it, he was following your lead on this one. Jake didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you’d set he wasn’t aware of, or had unintentionally forgotten about. He was holding off on everything, telling his sister what the hell was going on, telling his mother more than she ever deserved to know, telling the kids their mum was a little sick.

“No—no, I wanna tell the kids, for now, that I’m just a little sick and that’s why I needed you here more than they needed you over the next few days.” You explained your view. “I don't want them panicking about me, they're young, too young to need to know the severity of the situation.”

“Not telling them doesn't make the truth any less real, Honey–what if we tell them and–“ Jake never got a chance to finish his sentence, he never got a chance to say that if you didn’t want to tell your kids he’d support your decision regardless if he agreed or not before you interrupted to explain where you were coming from.

“They don't need to know Jake, I can't tell them, I can't tell my children that I might be dying alright I just can't.” You were a little more harsh than need be, but the emotional weight of the situation was taking a toll on you. “But I wasn’t about to bite my brain surgeon's head off for offering a valid opinion on a rough situation.”

“You know what?” Jake cooed as he reached out to touch your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin. The gentle touch brought you a solace you'd never truly understand as Jake's emerald eyes swirled with all the love and admiration in the world. “You’re right.” Jake didn't want to argue, not now, not when he could tell your emotions were running high and life seemed like it was against you. You needed him in your corner, for better or worse. “I’ll call Jas, I'll tell her what's going on, full God's honest truth and then we’ll tell the kids that you're just a little sick.”

“Just a little–” You replied with tears in your eyes, they were pooling at your lower lash line, ready to spill and open the flood gates. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you.” Jake listened as the pad of his thumb worked to catch the falling tears that cascaded down your cheek. “I should have–you needed to know.”

“I understand why you didn't.” Jake sighed as he sat by your bed side. “I wasn't–” he began to explain but shortly after changed what he was about to say. “I put myself in a position where I could lose you, and I shouldn't have, you and me and whatever our marriage is right now isn't the priority so just know I'm not saying this to fix that.” Jake cooed as he felt his eyes watering. “Right now all that matters is that we focus on you and your health and making sure you are the only priority.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“I got you one of those pant by numbers kits and some lego flowers I thought you might be able to do to fill the time.” Your mother wore a fake smile so painfully obvious that it made your heart want to burst inside your chest. This wasn't and hadn't been easy on her, carrying the burden of being the only one who knew about your diagnosis. Now, as Jake sat by your bedside, your mother wanted nothing more than to tell him how thankful she was that she now had someone else to carry the weight with.

But Mary wasn't about to do that, no. She wouldn't make the situation about her. But watching her little girl go through something she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy was brutal.

“That's really nice of you mum, you didn't have to do that.” Jake frowned momentarily when he heard you say that go to line. ‘You didn't have to do that.’ It was a sentence he hadn’t heard in a long time. You always used to say it, Jake just wasn't sure when you had stopped saying it to him. There wasn’t an awful lot of things he was going out of his way to do that would earn him a bashful or somewhat self deprecating response like that.

“I know, but I saw them at Target and thought they might keep you occupied.” Your mothers smile faded just slightly as she placed your presents under the small christmas tree that sat on the top of the small cupboard that could be used to house clothing and personal items patients brought with them. You hadn't paid much mind to unpacking, all you had managed was your toiletries. But your mother had gone above and beyond to make the space you were taking up residency in a little more homie. “How’re you feeling anyway?”

“I'm alright, a little stiff but Doctor Ignatii said that's to be expected, he’ll be back soon to help with the first few steps.” You knew your mother wasn't really prying about a health update, but more about a romantic one. Her eyes quickly darted to where Jake still sat holding your hand in his. He was afraid that if he let go that you'd disappear. Or worse. “A little shocked to find out my children are still in Texas but I'm sure given the circumstances I'll manage.”

“Well at least they're supervised and with family, that's all that matters.” Your mother replied as she pushed a little of your hair behind your ear. “Have you given any more thought about cutting your hair?”

“You were thinking about cutting your hair?” Jake finally managed the courage to jump into the conversation, he still felt like an intruder of some sort. He was still trying to process everything, the very idea that you were battling an aggressive form of breast cancer along with the fact you'd suffered a very recent stroke was all too much for his brain to comprehend.

“I'm gonna lose it all anyway.” You shrugged as you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “May as well get ahead of the curve and shave it all off before it falls out.” Hair holds memories, in some cultures it's even considered sacred. In some religions women cover their hair after marriage for only their husbands to see, others keep theirs pure and untreated by dyes. Some women of colour from countries across the world prefer to wear their hair in protective styles that give their hair longevity and life.

But you? You were losing yours. The keratin in your follicles had stopped reproducing, your follicles were dying off and snapping. It was a hard pill to swallow if you were being completely honest, but if shaving your hair off before you were subjected to looking like your daughters weird barbie doll was something that could help you maintain whatever dignity you had left, you were going to do it, regardless if you were slightly worried about your head being an odd shape. It beats you know, dying after all.

“Doctor Ignatii already took a pretty big chunk anyway from the surgery.” Your mother added. “Besides, it's a little more empowering to shave it yourself than losing it over time.” Jake understood, so he didn't argue. It was your choice at the end of the day. “Now, I'm not staying for too long, I thought I'd head back to yours, tidy up, make sure the house is in order for when you're able to go home.” Before you had a chance to argue or say she didn't have to, Jake was advocating on your behalf.

“Thanks Maz, that's perfect.” He smiled softly as the pad of his thumb rubbed against your hand. All you did was nod along in agreement, it did sound nice. Unnecessary in your humble opinion, but nice.

It wasn't long after that your mother was saying her goodbyes to the both of you for the day, being along with Jake wasn't awkward, but it did feel a little uneasy with so much still left to discuss. All the potential what if’s and could be’s.

“Can you please pass me my laptop?” You were the first one to break the silence that had fallen between the two of you, only the steady threthem of monitors could be heard amongst the thick silence.

“You still working on that book?” Jake asked rather tentatively, it was a touchy subject. If you said yes then that meant you hadn't had time to finish it before your due date. Jake knew he played more of a role in that then he’d like to admit, but the idea you were still working on the same book meant the separation truly hadnt boded well in your favour to focus on your career. For Jake however, it had opened up another career advancement. The Daggers.

“Uh yeah actually I am.” You sat up a little straighter in your bed and fixed up the blanket covering your legs. “I shelved it there for a little while.” The explanation truly was just that, you hadn't really had all that much time to work on a new publication while trying to raise three children on your own. “I picked it up again around August, just haven't made much progress with it with everything that's been going on.”

“Do you feel like sharing some exclusive details with your number one fan?” Jake was almost unashamed in his attempt at breaking down your walls. “Who knows, I might be able to inspire some creativity.”

“Oh you're my number one fan now are you?” You chuckled softly as you watched Jake reached into the drawer your mother had put your laptop and charger in. “And there isn't much creative freedom when it comes to writing a bibliography for true crime, unless you count ghoulish overkill and an absurd use of dark humour to cover up the truly graphic details of the world's most notorious crimes.” Jake smiled back at you as he held your laptop in one hand, the rose gold Mac with stickers randomly pleased all over the lid.

“Don't be fooled by the good looks Honey, I can read a sentence or two without stuttering.”

“Could've fooled me.” You fired back without hesitation as Jake faked a shot to the heart. “You really want me to read some to you?” Jake hadn't asked about your work in months. You'd stopped wondering if he cared about your career path before you decided to walk away from your marriage to focus on yourself. At the end of it all you left believing Jake had stopped caring about the things that made you simply you.

“Yeah, of course, I mean–it would be nice to read some new material, after all–the copies I have back in North Island are pretty much falling apart from how much I tend to flick through them.” Jake had never been a big true crime fan, that was until you published your first book.

“Wait, you have my books? Which ones?” The revelation made your heart skip a beat inside your chest, so much so that Jake saw it on the monitor. It made his cheeks flush a crimson red at the very thought he could still make you this flustered.

“Uh–” Jake started as he came back down to sit beside you, opening up your laptop and placing it on the small but practical table that could go over your legs. “I have all five.” Jake would read the dedication every night before he went to bed and every morning before he went to work. They were all slightly different but the sentiment remained the same. His favourite one to read was:

“Dedicated to the man who loves me so, thank you for your service, I love you with all my heart.”

Jake knew deep down, after all the two of you had gone through, after all the hurt he’d unintentionally caused with his emotional disconnect, that the dedication in your newest book wouldn't be for him. It would be for your children.

“You've never told me this before?” Jake should have told you, he should have been more open, more honest about his feelings. He shouldn't have lost sight of what was truly important to him and it definitely shouldn't have taken losing you to realise how important you were. Jake had never known female rage until he dealt and fought with a woman who was feeling undervalued, unappreciated and unwanted.

“I should have, I know that now.” It was only a small gesture at the bottom of Everest itself but Jake knew now was the time he had to really put the effort in, to show you he truly cared, that he really did love you in sickness and in health. “I'd really like to sit here and maybe I can read what you've written so far out loud so you can just rest–and if there's anything you wanna change, I can do it for you.”

“Oh you don’t have to—“ Your sentence trailed off into nothing as you looked into your husband’s eyes, searching for an ounce of hesitation or burden in them. But all you saw were those emerald green eyes staring back at you with all the love and warmth in the world. Jake wanted to do this, truly. “Sure, yeah if uh—I’d really like that.”

It felt nice to be taken care of, to be valued and loved. But it wasn’t enough to undo the damage that Jake had unintentionally caused. He was going to have to put the work in, fight for you as much as you had to fight for your life.

“Okay.” Jake smiled as he cleared his throat and turned the laptop his way. “Alright Honey, let’s go from the top shall we?”

“Take it away Mr. Ghost Writer.” You cooed as you settled into your hospital bed and found a comfortable position, if anything you were feeling rather tired. Maybe you’d be able to get some more sleep soon—that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“In the early hours of January 1996, after an evening spent celebrating at Club Bayview in the Perth suburb of Claremonth, 18-year-old Sarah Spiers called a taxi to nearby Mosman Park. But when the cab arrived, she’d already gone. Sarah was never seen again.” Jake read out loud as you listened and laid there wondering if this was all some Lavender Haze to mask the reality that your marriage was over:

Or really how Jake wanted the two of you to be. Together again, in sickness and in health.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Just tilt your head a little.” Jake was being as gentle as he ever could be. “Let me know if I'm hurtin’ you.” The steam from the shower filled the bathroom as you sat on the little shower stool. The hot water cascaded down your naked self taking all the grimy sticky remanence from surgery away with it.

“Feels perfect.” You sighed in relief at the feeling of being clean once again, Jake stood behind you washing your body with a small lofa in soft circular motions. Under the water with you. It wasn't awkward to see each other so exposed, however, given the circumstances, you felt incredibly vulnerable. “Can you get my neck a little more?” Jake obliged to your request and moved the soap free suds around your next. It felt surreal, otherworldly even after the last few days. You let the silence fall around you as you reveled in the sensation of Jake's hands roaming your naked body in a not so sexual way. It felt nice to be touched in such a way that made you feel safe.

“Jake–?” Your voice sounded softer than it did just a few moments ago, your eyes lingered over to the sink where in the corner of your eye, you could see the clippers you’d bought with you to the hospital in preparation for this very moment. Originally you were going to do it yourself, then, you thought perhaps you could ask your mother–but now, sitting under the stream of steady warm water with Jake helping to cleanse your weakened body post surgery– you knew you had to ask him.

“Yeah Honey?” Jake cooed as he washed your body, being ever so careful to not knock and bump the cords and wires that were still attached to your arms. Doctor Ignatii had assured Jake they could get wet–but he was still sus.

“Will–will you shave my head?” The silence that followed as deafening as you felt Jake's hands nearly came to a complete stop. “I just–I dont think I'm strong enough to do it myself.” Again, Jake's silence was all consuming. “You don't have to if you don't want to, I uh–i understand if it’s too big of an ask–I can always ask mu–” Before you could go off on a tangent, Jake was interrupting as he came around to kneel before you.

“No, no Honey, of course I'll help you.” Jake made sure to clarify. “It's just–it's just no one ever prepares you for your wife to ask you to do something like this.” You saw the sadness in Jake's eyes, the understanding and compassion. “But of course, yes, I'll do whatever you need me to and if being your barber is something you need then consider me the best in the biz.”

Your heart couldn't contain itself inside your chest as you reached out to caress Jake's scruffed cheek. For whatever reason, you couldn't stop the worlds from escaping your lips.

“I love you–” The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet flesh.

Jake knew it was the environment, the situation and the fear of being slowly taken by disease, but he couldn't help but to lean in, cup your face and kiss you like he’d missed you everyday since you left him back in January. The slow pull of desire ached in Jake's chest as your tongue danced with his: and as he pulled away to let his forehead rest against yours? He allowed himself just a single moment of reprieve:

“I love you so much Honey–oh so much.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin angst #top gun series #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Distribute the weight

Yan Vampire + Tall/Werewolf Reader

Your adoring spouse keeps you on their arm at all times - not matter what others say.

[slightly suggestive]

"Aw, poor Pup broke their paw?~... Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'm all alone too..."

Irony riddles your scar. Slim, horizontal lines riming the ball of your ankle. A silver bear trap - buried under leaves and twigs, and the cruz pivoting your life on its head. The trap had been set in a part of the forest you had never crossed before, burrowed away on the hunting grounds of a terror fiercer than the hunter after your head. Hell, maybe the bastard set it in that exact location at that exact time in hopes of killing two birds with one stone. In a turn of events shocking you both, the vampire who found you took you into their arms and home: dispatching the hunter stalking you as you recovered in their bed. Loneliness is what saved you that evening - as if you really believed that.

Truth be told, your caretaker was only nursing you back to health to have a fresh supply of blood for guests, but just like the hunter their plans changed the longer you were by their side. Your leg had been completely shattered - amputation likely if they hadn't arrived when they did. Weight too much for one leg to carry; you depended on them to get you from place to place while you healed. From an outside perspective it was like a lion asking aid of their own prey, but their stature was no factor to their strength.

Close to your midsection in height and, your caretaker was able to pick you up in one arm with ease. You were like an oversized stuffed animal they won an the fair and served a similar duty in their bed. They thought about skinning you and using your coat instead, but your warmth came from somewhere deeper than your fur. A confession your third week in and you became lovers. Devoted to you as they were towards their original cause, your spouse would do anything for you.

"Please put me down now..."

Except for that.

You see, old habits die hard when they lead to finding your true love. Years after your leg had healed and your spouse still carried you on their arm wherever they may go. Whether a stoll through the garden or in conversation with another, you were nowhere to be found but in their hold. An extension of themselves they could not part from - you gave up bringing them to reason long ago. The issue still remaining was when you were in the presence of others. The size of the crowd or importance of the person did not matter. In their arms is where you where meant to be and where you reside for as long as they function.

Huddled on a couch in the center of the venue, your spouse is beckoned into conversation by another across the room. An annual meet in their court which you had attended before, but this face was new. Passing their drink off to you and hooking an arm beneath your thighs, your spouse begins to rise when you stop them with a single hand to their chest.

"Maybe I should sit this one out. I'm not sure about that look in their eye..."

Your spouse looks taken aback as if you've just made I'll of their entire bloodline. "Nonsense! Who knows how long this cretin wishes to converse with me? I maybe be able to weasel my way out eventually, but I'm certain to die before then if you are not at my reach. Come now, we mustn't keep our new friend waiting."

Your spouse pats the meat of your thigh, shoving their glass into your hand as they adjust you upon their shoulder as they stand. Your unoccupied arm instinctively shoots around their neck for support as they lock your legs beneath their bicep. You can see upon the second floor from the boost - all those watching and whispering from the shadows. Balancing you on one arm, they traverse the yard; experience in their skill appointed by the point of their heels sharper than the snap of their fangs. Spine straightened and head held high, they join the stranger in the far corner of the room with polite greeting. You focus more on keeping their cup from spilling and staining your fur - again.

Rocking on their heels, your spouse bows their head to the other vamp - hands clearly to preoccupied for a handshake. "Good evening. I trust all is well on your part?"

"Evening...." Their eyes drift towards you, darting back to your spouse as you fume from the concentration. Your spouse rubs your knee, whispering something about knowing just how to get the blood out. "I'm fairing well... why do you ask?"

"I just happened to notice you staring down my mate all night and was curious since you seem to be making them uncomfortable..." Their smile falters, annoyance punctuated by the huff they make as they look up at you. "Ugh, these lights are damn near as bright as day. Darling, could you be a dear a give me a drink?"

Reaching to their jaw, you rest the rim of the glass against their plump lips as their head falls back - flow regulated by the claws at their throat. With their hands at your sides it was not uncommon for you to feed them food and drink, a pleasure your spouse abused plenty.

"Maybe you should keep your mutt at home if I'm bothering them."

Blood plenishes the glass as your spouse chokes on their spit. You ease the glass from their lips as they lower you to the floor, wiping the dribbles of red with the curve of their claws protruding from the cloth of their gloves. Tongue rolling over their fangs, but they bark a laugh as their eyes squint.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you properly."

The other vampire steps forward, sizing them up. Even amongst their own kin, your spouse was smaller than norm. "You really don't know what the others say about you - do you? Carrying around that mutt at all hours like you own the place - it's disrespectful."

"Mm.... Darling, could you hand me that glass, please?" Passing it off, your spouse mouths a thank you as they take it from you and stands between you and your aggressor. Swirling the dark liquid around the edge, they down the drink in one good - pausing briefly to savor the taste before smashing the glass on the floor. As shard disburse at their feet, your spouse checks their nails seeing as this bother wasn't worth their time as they expect.

"Kneel."

A snarl emits from the vampire throat as their hands aim for your spouse's collar. "You may have been here first, but that gives you no reason to order me around."

Your spouse chuckles through the strain around their neck. "My friend, I don't think you understand. See, when my love and I became one, we received a little gift from the little hunter aiming to take us both as prize. A fool that one, but power seems common in the hands of idiots nowadays."

Gaze falling to their chest; if their blood grew any colder it would still in their chest. Pointed at their heart, betwixt the thin layer of skin encasing their ribs - a dagger aims for the kill from the sleeve of your spouse's robes. A lazy, toothy grin meets their face as terror marks their opponent's.

"You wouldn't..."

"Oh, but I would." Twisting the handle, their voice drops as first blood falls. "You wouldn't be the first."

The frightened party looks towards you for mercy. You avoid their silent plea, eyes on your partner alone. Couldn't stop them even if you wanted. Defeated, the vampire drops to one knee, wincing as the broken glass embeds into their knee. Your spouse jabs at their side to get them down on the other, slashing their abdomen in accident they don't seem to care much for. Torment and pain unbound, the worse of it comes with their next order.

"Lick up what's left if you value your tongue."

Their panic is thee most delicious thing your spouse has drank up all night. They look beyond you for help, but they're all but ignored and those who pay mine only snicker or shake their head out of pity. The threat of a foot to the back of their skull gets them moving along just fine. By the time their tongue sweeps the first heap of glass your spouse had already lost interest - concern overtaken their glee as you glance off to nowhere.

"Dearest, what troubles you?"

"They're right, you know?... My leg has been healed for years and I don't need you to carry me around anymore. I'm too big for it anyway.."

"That so?... Forgive me for being selfish, but it isn't all about you anymore, my love. You do have a point with one thing, though."

"What?"

Taking your hand, your spouse pushes you against the wall. Never has the venue's drap wallpaper looked more investing than when wrapped against your fur as they pin you in place. Guiding your legs up and around their torso, they center majority of your weight on their pelvis as their head falls to your sternum and their hands to your waist.

"There's too much of you for these feeble arms of mine to hold. I need a better way to distribute the weight or else I may not be able to carry you as you deserve. At my hip is a far better place for you. Makes sense, considering you're always in my lap when we're at home." Your spouse readjusts their hold on you as one of your legs slides down their back, hips ground against your loins as they lock their hand beneath the seat of your rear. Your thighs cage them like two trunks of wood supported by a twig. One squeeze and you could easily snap their spine just as easy and maybe that's what brought such a vibrant flutter to their heart as their cheek pads your chest. Pulling you down a bit further, they nip at your collarbone as their hands rake up the shorts you wore. In the corner of the room guised by the bustling chatter and music around you, none are the wiser as your clothing dips off your hip - your spouse's robes hiding the slip of their hand between your legs.

"Looks like there are more benefits to this position than I thought. I do believe I can stand here all night with you, my love... If you can keep quiet."

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere vampire #werewolf reader

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2-dsimp · 6 months

Text

Monster rule 101: Don’t play with fire around your Mothman!—————-:—:————

Mothman! Dabi x monster hunter! Fem reader

—————-:—:——————:————:————-:——

🔞MDNI🔞

C w: Humiliation, asphrodiasic, slight mind break, degradation, praise, NFSW, monsterfuxking, overstimulation, breeding, impregnation, usage of cunt

—————-:—:——————:————:————-:——

You were on a mission.

A very dangerous mission that was a code gold also known as Legendary. Meaning that the monstrous threat was equivalent to a whole country being wiped off the map. However, due to certain circumstances only one solider could be dispatched to deal with the golden threat.

The reason for that being because of how hyper sensitive the Mothman is to overcrowding within its territory. The team dispatch leader decided to proceed with the utmost caution lest they trigger its frenzy mode. Which would ultimately result in the loss of lives country wide, burning underneath the raging pure blue flames of the otherworldly demon.

<< Have you located the Mothman? Over >>

“Yes I’ve got eyes on the area sir, permission to proceed?”

<< Permission granted. Over >>

You were chosen out of a select few individuals for being the cream of the crop, to carry out this dire mission to save all of mankind. If you could succeed then you’d be set for life! Having the fame and the riches that come along with it, all in exchange for exterminating the deadliest bug humanoid in existence. You’d say that’s a fair trade, since it was high risk high reward type situation.

But as you approached the abandoned cave you could feel a sense of dread wash over your entire being.

You were being watched.

You could feel the sweat accumulate upon your lush chocolatey skin littered in goosebumps. Then you heard a sharp chuff that echoed off the walls, seemingly the Mothman enjoyed watching you squirm from his focused attention.

Venturing even deeper into the unknown you tightly grasped at your equipment, a tool of reassurance you could say. That happened to be a flamethrower. Yes, out of all the weapons you chose a hazardous contraption that resembled a dragons breath.

Why? Mostly because you thought it’d be cool to go out in a blaze of glory should you happen to fail in your conquest to get the target in check. But it was also strategic in a way, since moths were attracted to light. You’ve had to find some kind of way to draw them out.

Too bad you didn’t get the chance to use it before you’re snatched into furry arms that secured you to the monsters chest. Which vibrated from his snarky greeting.

“You took too long enough for my liking doll, now shall we get down to business already? “

You could feel his bulge press up against the your ass, rubbing between your cheeks.

“I’m feeling a bit pent up”

He rasped impatiently into your ear, boy did his voice do wonders as it spiked your arousal. But you had a job to do, unfortunately. Gathering your composure you asserted yourself to the monster.

“You already know why I’m here right? Mr. Mothman.”

You could feel him chuckle darkly against your neck, highly amused by your sense of professionalism. Even while having his dick steadily grind against your back, covering you in clear fluids. Making your thighs shake in excitement.

“Obviously, but just call me Dabi, dollface. You’re gonna wear it out in a few moments might as well get a lil practice in ya?”

You were dumbfounded. Could he be implying what you’re thinking—

“Judging from the look on your pretty face, I’m guessing your little agency didn’t fill ya in on our little inside deal huh?”

He purred

You could feel his loosened grip completely leave your body. Allowing you to be able to face the Mothman hunched over in all of his 7ft glory. He had tuffs of black fur covering his toned ripped chest, arms, and legs. His overall body type was lean and slender. The dark colored wings sprouting at large from behind, before being folded back neatly into place. To avoid you from seeing his jagged scars littered across them.

“All I can say is that you’re in for one hell of a ride once I get my hands on you Baby. So Outta the kindness of my heart I’ll give you a 5 minute head start—”

He paused, as you gave him an warm embrace of your own. Grinding against his bulge that continued to grow even further against you. He looked down at you in disbelief, but it wasn’t before long until he connected the dots.

“ Don’t tell me, You’re one of those monster fanatics aren’t ya?”

To be quite frank yes. You were an absolute fan of monsters, you fantasized about getting close and becoming friends with one. But now you were gonna be the mate of a code legendary?? You couldn’t believe your luck. Plus it was the mission you were given, so as the loyal solider that you are. You gratefully accepted your fate with no questions asked.

The Mothman merely laughed in the irony of it all, a monster hunter wanting to be fucked by a monster it was so priceless. A devious smirk planted on his face As he bended over down to your height charred lips barely touching the shell of your ear only to whisper darkly of a precautionary warning of what you’re getting into.

“ You do realize that I’m in heat right doll?”

He reached his hand down running his tempered claws down the fat of your thick ass giving it a tight squeeze before hooking your leg up to leave some room for him to freely press his huge twitching bulge against your moist mound.

“I’m barely hanging on by a thread, so Don’t hold anything against me if I lose control got it?”

It wasn’t long until you were on the brink of being fucked to death by the Mothman of your dreams. face pushed down into the cocoon like nest he prepared in advance as his extended feeler limbs sprouted out from his sides, to grasp at you from behind hooking onto your waist. Keeping you grounded on his intrusive dick. While his primary arms wrapped around you tightly to play with your breasts that jigged violently from his ruthless thrusts from behind.

“You’re sucha pretty lil thing for me aren’t ya?”

The strong pheromones that wafted off from his wings made you feel so vulnerable and helpless within his smoldering embrace. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve came alone from him just penetrating your cervix. It was as if you were on cloud nine enjoying the way his cum covered cock kept digging even deeper inside your snug snatch trying to ensure that you’d get pregnant with his brood.

“Your slutty pussy just can’t seem to get enough of my dick, don’t worry doll I’ll make you take all of it”

He murmured eyes staring down dangerously at the way your pliant body bended to his ministrations. He payed close attention to the way his dick continued to be devoured by your juicy cunt. That sucked and messaged his thick cock inside the hot mesh of your inner walls determined to be flooded with his baby batter.

“ Mmh D-Dabi please I can’t—!”

You babbled dumbly with drool hanging down from the corners of your fucked out plump lips. As the intensity of his rapid heavy thrusts began to increase its assault against your quivering quim.

You tried to crawl away from yet another approaching high that was dead set on crashing down on your senses. But his firm grip on your neck yanked you back into reality.

“ Aye Dollface don’t ever try to fuckin crawl away from me again, you’re mine you got that?”

Dabi hissed, giving you a sharp tug on your butterfly locs and a harsh bite on your shoulder as a fair warning.

The cave was emitting loud strange sounds from the inside, alerting to anyone from around the area to vacate the premises immediately. In case the Mothman were to come out of his home and start wrecking chaos. But little did they know that Stowed away deep inside the cave for a whole week did you lay beneath the Mothman in all your naked glory.

Freshly fucked all the way to Sunday during his still ongoing heat cycle. Where the only thing covering you was his semen that painted your caramel skin from your breasts down to your overused cunt stuffed to the brim with his cum that trickled out from your puffy pussylips. Only to be pushed back in by his long veiny dick just to ensure that the next of his kin would live on inside your womb.

Hey At least you prevented a worldwide tragedy, right?

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #bhna smut #mha smut #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #mha x female reader #dabi imagine #dabi scenarios #mothman #Mothman!dabi #yandere dabi #smut imagine #smut drabble #smut scenarios #thought I already posted this but apparently not? so here’s this repost XD

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azrielslightintheshadows · 7 months

Text

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader.

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death.

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 4

Now you know. The shadows whispered in your ear and disappeared.

You didn’t know why they showed you this, it felt like invading Azriel’s privacy. Your heart broke as the image of the boy resurfaced, so young and thin. You shook your head and walked to the bathroom to wash yourself, the house had already changed the sheets.

After fixing yourself as much as you could you walked to the dining room and found Cassian, Nesta and Azriel there, they all looked at you when you entered, and Cassian smiled.

“Good morning” he said and turned back to his food.

“Good morning” you smiled and took a seat next to Azriel. You didn’t know why but you felt the need to be close to him, you couldn’t remember what happened last night, the only memory you had was walking into a bar and then Azriel placing you on the bed and leaving. Maybe it was the nightmare that made you feel this way. Azriel was surprised too yet he didn’t say anything nor moved away.

A plate of food appeared in front of you and you started eating.

“So y/n would you like to join us for training?” Nesta asked and you almost gasped, you didn’t expect her to be nice to you.

“I don’t want to be a burden, I have never fought in my life… I will just hold you back” you replied, your voice soft. Nesta snorted and shook her head.

“Nonsense, I hadn’t fought a day in my life when I started training too. At least come and watch and then you can make your decision” she shrugged.

“Okay” you nodded.

You glanced at Azriel who had an approving look on his face and instantly you felt proud of yourself.

After breakfast you went into your room and Nesta followed you. “Listen… I don’t really like you, we’ve all been through a lot and your appearance here is mocking us. You will never be able to understand the sacrifices we made and our trauma but as a female its my duty to help you become strong, confident and independent. Take the opportunity, you won’t regret it.”

You didn’t know how to feel about her statement, you admired her. Most females on your circle tried to destroy the others, it was one of the most successful ways to eliminate the threat and get married first. Nesta could see the gears in your head turning and that was enough for her, so she continued. “Lets find some proper clothes for training.”

She opened your closet and snorted when she saw the pink dress you wore the first day. “You should burn that thing, it’s hideous” she made a gagging noise and continued her search. You frowned and your mind went back to the day you bought it. That dress saved your life and even though it was ugly, it grounded you, it is the only thing that reminds you the past.

“I think these are okay” she said and threw a pair of leggings and a top on your bed. “Get dressed and come find us at the roof” and with that she left.

You picked the clothes and tried them on. The top reached your belly button and you felt exposed, your whole silhouette was on display, and you blushed as you saw yourself. Come on, everyone here wears this type of clothes. You can do this. You told yourself and with a deep shaky breath you left the room, hurrying off to the roof.

Cassian, Nesta, Azriel and two females were already there. The females had formed a line and Cassian stood in front of them, demonstrating some moves and then watching them repeat them, correcting them when needed. Azriel was behind the females correcting their stance and sometimes kicking their legs, making them lose balance.

“You should always be aware of your surroundings. Get up and correct your stance. Now.” He barked and moved to the next one.

Everything looked scary and painful, making you shiver. You gathered all your courage and walked outside, taking a seat on the bench in front of them.

“Hello y/n” Cassian smiled and moved to the side so you could see better. You waved at him, and your eyes fell on Azriel. He stood frozen behind the line, his eyes scanning your body. He licked his bottom lip and turned his attention to the females.

Your face burned and you made a mental note to dress like that more often. Then you frowned. He hates you and you should hate him too for the way he is treating you. Stop this. You reprimanded yourself and focused on the females.

They were moving with such grace, you felt like you were watching a choreography, their braids flowing around with every move they made, their muscles flexing their faces turning cold and then soft with a smile as Cassian shouted praises. You felt hypnotized and wondered if you could ever look this elegant with sweat running down your body. You thought about the females you used to admire, all living inside their pink bubble, only caring about their looks and lifestyle. The most successful female of your village had locked her sister in a cell when one lord visited their small cottage, so she didn’t have to compete. She managed to wed him but at a great cost. Her younger sister was afraid of the dark, when she threw her into the cell, she went mad and started banging her body on the wall, she cracked her skull and died. The older sister didn’t even cry and she pushed the funeral a few weeks later so she could prepare her wedding. Her sister’s body rotted in that cell, and she didn’t even care.

You glanced at the females here, they looked elegant and strong and successful. They didn’t care about males, they only cared about themselves. The looks they sent you filled with hope and encouragement in addition to what Nesta said earlier made your heart swell. They didn’t see each other as competition. No. They cared about other females, they wanted to help. You could fit here. These were the females you should admire, the females you could have as your role models and the thought made you smile, determination filling your body and making your blood boil. You got up and hurried off to your room, you opened the closet and picked the pink dress. You walked back outside and stared at Nesta. She stared back a smirk appearing on her face as she hurried off and came back outside with a candle in her hand. She offered it to you, and you threw the dress on the ground, lighting it up on fire and watching it burn. Nesta looked at you with pride and she clapped.

“Welcome to the real world princess” she smiled.

You glanced around and noticed the other females, they were clapping too, Cassian let out a low whistle and Azriel grinned. Your heart melted and you let out a giggle, your eyes filling with tears as you whispered, “Thank you”.

You weren’t thanking them for their applause, you were thanking them for supporting you, for opening your eyes and showing you that its okay to be strong and independent. And as you stood on that roof, proud of yourself and ready to take the wheel of your life, your gaze fell onto Azriel, and the bond snapped.

Your smile turned into a frown and your whole body shuddered. No, no, no. I just decided to take control of my life, I can’t be bound to a male. You thought and stared at him wide-eyed. Azriel noticed your expression and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” Nesta asked.

“Yes, just lost in the emotion.” You smiled.

“Okay I think we had enough for today. Tomorrow we will start our training at the same time, I’m guessing you will be joining us y/n” Cassian boomed. You nodded and smiled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in your room, trying to do the moves you saw them doing earlier, you wanted to be prepared for training tomorrow. You were interrupted by a knock on your door, you could feel Azriel through the bond, so you stayed silent hoping he would go away.

“I know you’re in there” he shouted. You sat on your bed without replying. One of his shadows slithered down the door and shoot up, turning the lock and opening the door. You cursed under your breath and got up.

Azriel strolled into the room with a soft expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, everything is fine” you replied. “Fine my ass” he snarled “you felt it snap”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you whispered taking a step back. The cold expression returned on his face as he growled;

“Fine, its better this way. The Cauldron was wrong, I can’t have a weak female in my life. I showed you the city like Rhysand asked now don’t fucking come near me again unless its during training” the way his tone changed when he said training made shivers run down your spine. His voice was filled with painful promises and as he left your room you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic grin that appeared on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat and fear mixed with excitement filled your senses, the sting of his words long forgotten as you thought about training with him. You wouldn't let him treat you like that again, if you could manage that then you could do everything. I'm going to blow your mind shadowsinger. You thought and smirked.

I hope you enjoy this part, from now on the series will focus on female power so if you are here just for romance you shouldn't waste your time on this.

@glitterypirateduck , @zara-aliza08 , @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore , @pinksmellslikelove , @bunnyredgirl , @lectoracronica , @tuggboatfishin , @sunnysideup000 , @blessthepizzaman , @universevsd , @raisinggray , @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum , @justasillylittlegoofyguy , @tsunami-of-tears , @just-a-social-casualty-1 , @thelov3lybookworm

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miabebe · 15 days

Text

This Man (I)

A man of the shadows and a woman who belonged in the skies - fate could not have brought two more different people together.

But was this fate or was this a choice?

Pairing - Jeon Wonwoo x OC, Jeon Jungkook x OC

Word Count - 6.3K

Genre - Mafia AU, lots of angst, smut and romance to come in the future chapters hehe

Warnings - Mentions of blood, guns, kidnapping, possible violence, a make out scene or two?

Chapter summary - Na bi, who gets briefly pulled into the world of shadows, drowns further in it with every step she takes. After all, he did say, 'You'll come back to me.'

The smell of gasoline was undeniably lingering in the air. The mud under her shoes was thick and wet, consistent with the sound of the rain echoing in the silence. The rope on her wrists was starting to burn into her skin and the heat of the car disappeared behind her as she got dragged into the darkness. It sounded like she was accompanied by three sets of footsteps. Or was it four? She couldn’t really tell. A sudden jerking motion threw her against what felt like a chair, her back hitting the wood, eliciting an involuntary groan.

She had seen and heard enough about Seoul to tell she was going to die today – she just didn’t know how or why. All she wanted was a bottle of juice. Though pouring rains had taken over the city, she was feeling unusually dehydrated. A simple detour to the grocery store after work, somehow ended with an opaque bag over her head and her body shoved into a van, the dim streetlights being the only witness. I should’ve just gone straight home.

Throughout the ride, to her own surprise, she sat unusually still. It was a fight or flight situation; her survival instincts should have kicked in; she should’ve done something but she simply froze. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything to save herself. She was never really scared of the unknown or the darkness but today? Today the black was somehow stifling. Having that bag over her head finally taken off didn’t help much either - darkness was soon going to be a constant in her life anyways.

Her eyes struggled to adjust to the very dim, barely visible surroundings of what seemed like an old abandoned warehouse, streams of light and rain making their way from scattered holes in the roof. Textbook kidnapping location, what a dramatic way to go indeed. There were people all around her; definitely more than four, perhaps around twenty? but they all stood half hidden in the shadows, visible only waist down, light particularly shining off those combat boots they all seemingly had in common.

Her cold sweat was replaced by the cold metal of a gun pressed against her cheek, turning her head towards its wielder. His frame blocked nearly her entire visual field – he was tall and broad, looming over her, his golden tresses falling into his cold eyes. Thank god his vest didn’t have sleeves because his biceps looked like they would have ripped right through the fabric. She knew he could knock her out cold with barely a swing of his arm, so she told herself to be very careful about when and how she opened her mouth before him. But that warning to herself barely sustained for a minute.

Suddenly, a light was flashed on her face, making her wince and look away but grabbing her face, the blonde man forced her to meet his eyes again, frowning in confusion.

“Who are you?”

She blinked at him rapidly, not being able to fathom if she misheard him or he had indeed just asked her the dumbest question possible. The uncomfortable series of whispers that went around like something was not right. Did they…. Did they make a mistake? Was she not the one they meant to kidnap tonight?

Her perpetrator turned towards the darkness at the far end of the room, talking to it, his voice ever so slightly shaking. “We were outside the hospital all afternoon; we had our eyes on her for hours. I don’t know how this happened…” He turned back, his eyes void of even the slightest tinge of guilt – they blazed with anger. “I asked who the hell are you.”

How dare he. How dare he be mad at her like it was her fault she was sitting tied up in this chair. Like she was the one who fucked up.

He wasn’t patient enough for an answer. She wasn’t planning on giving him one anyways.

She watched as a woman walked up with her bag, emptying its content onto the floor carelessly, eyes skimming over her discarded things. Spotting a wallet she reached for it, scouring through and then tossed a card to the blonde man who held it under the light. “Baek Na Bi” He frowned. “Emergency medicine, Seoul National University Hospital…..”

Na bi spat the blood-tinged spit pooling in her mouth on the wet mud around her. “So you’re not blind.” She looked at him, anger bubbling in her chest. “Just devoid of human intelligence then.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, his gaze on her hardening as did his grip on the gun. Of all the ways one could die, Na bi was sure hers was going to be the most deservedly pointless one.

“Or what?” Her eyes flickered to his gun and back. “You’ll stalk, kidnap and threaten me? Oh wait, you’ve already done all of the above.”

“There is a fourth option on the list.” She felt his gun right in the middle of her chest, the nose of it digging into her sternum. “Don’t push me to do it.”

Na bi tried not to swallow the phantom lump in her throat or let the defiance in her eyes die out. Thankfully for her, a sound from the shadows turned the blonde man’s attention away - The sound of a lighter click.

“We made a mistake.” His otherwise harsh voice had a tinge of fear yet again. “It was dark and they look so alike I- “

“They look nothing alike.” An unfamiliar low voice echoed across the warehouse. Na bi tried to look through the darkness, searching for its owner but all she saw was a small dancing flame.

“We can still find her.” The blonde man stashed his gun back in its holster, his hands searching his pockets for a minute before he pulled out a photo. “They work in the same hospital, maybe they know each other.”

Turning to her, he held it up in front of her face, shining light on it. “Who is this?”

Na bi didn’t know what good resistance was going to do for her but at this moment she did not feel like being of any use to him at all. She continued stubbornly staring at him, making him grab her face once more, forcing it to turn towards the photo in his other hand. Na Bi squinted at what seemed like a picture captured from a security cam of a woman maybe in her mid-twenties, face half hidden under her cap but still revealing the brown eyes that matched her brown hair…... Ana.

“Don’t know.” She pulled herself away from his grip. “I don’t know who she-.”

“She knows.”

The voice from the shadows sent a chill down her spine. Na Bi thought she did an excellent job of concealing her shock on seeing Ana. She was only betrayed by the very slight widening of her eyes, a momentary slip he caught from all the way across the space. Denial was going to be futile.

“Why are you looking for her?”

The blonde man narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re in no position to ask questions.”

“If not for your incapability, I would not be in this position.”

Na bi could practically hear his jaw tighten, letting her know she was mere seconds from being hurt real bad but before he could do anything, the low voice boomed across the warehouse.

“Dokyeom.”

So that was blondie’s name. And a warning too.

Dokyeom immediately took a step back and Na bi realised belatedly - the man in the shadows was the leader. She felt herself stiffen at the sound of him walking ahead. More accurately, at the sound of his shoes, which she noticed were not combat boots like the rest but a pair of dress shoes that appeared in the light when he neared.

“I’m looking for some answers Ms. Baek. I just want a conversation.”

“What could she possibly know that’s of interest to you?”

“To begin with, on who’s orders has she been going around looking for me.”

Na bi raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “She’s looking for you?”

“It appears so. But no one simply looks for me Ms. Baek.” The click of the lighter resounded in the silence, this time the tiny flame briefly illuminated what looked like a grey shirt. “I’m the one who hunts.”

Na bi scoffed incredulously. “Not so good at it, are you? Clearly you can’t even pick the right prey.”

He hummed; a tinge of amusement laced in it. Dokyeom though, stared at her like he had just mentally put a dozen bullets through her. Na bi didn’t care; aggravating him felt alleviating for some reason. Besides, she didn’t think he would actually do anything without instruction from the man in the shadows and strangely, it didn’t feel like he wanted to hurt her.

She knew how stupid that thought was. She knew what it meant to be kidnapped in this city – it was a one-way road; no one ever came back. Even though she was not the right target, she was a liability, a risk factor roaming on the streets. As much as she hoped and prayed, there was no way they were going to let her go tonight; her fate was sealed.

“Let her go.”

Na bi felt herself choke on nothing, launching into a coughing fit, thrown off by his words. If she didn’t see the sheer shock in Dokyeom's face, she would have thought she misheard him but the blonde man took both a hesitating and obedient step towards her and with a small pocket knife, cut the ropes binding her hands. She rubbed her wrists ignoring the sharp pain in her shoulders.

“You’re… you’re letting me go?”

Though she had accurately predicted the lighter click to follow, she did not expect to hear a smile in his voice. “You’ll come back to me.”

To this hell hole? “And why would I do that?”

He didn’t answer.

Giving her barely a minute to gather her discarded things, Dokyeom pulled her up to her feet impatiently. As she was led out, she heard footsteps receding into the darkness behind her and as much as she was surprised, sceptical and relieved all at once to be walking out of here alive, when the bag made its way back over her head, a part of her was disappointed to not being able to put a face to the voice that was ringing in her ears.

You’ll come back to me.

“I won’t.” She muttered as she was shoved back into the van.

Na Bi looked at herself in the mirror as she stepped out of the shower. She was a mess.

As if her job as an ER resident did not contribute enough to her ever so permanent dark circles, last night’s events further threw her into a sleepless night. Pushing her bangs up, she ran her fingers over the bruise on her forehead. She did put up quite a struggle when she was being forced into the van but in vain. She was no match for those clearly trained hands that were tying her up - The scars on her wrists were still burning. Letting her fringes carefully cover the bruise on her head, she pulled her hair into a ponytail, eyes glancing at her phone for the hundredth time this morning. There was still no response from Ana.

Last night, when Dokyeom had kicked her out of the van onto the street by her house, he had given her a warning loud and clear. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll forget tonight ever happened.” Heart racing in her chest as she entered the home she never thought she would see again, Na bi neatly ignored his words and called Ana immediately. Sure, the two of them weren’t really close and barely knew each other but how was she supposed to just stay quiet when someone was in danger? She had to warn her at least, tell her that some very sketchy people were out there looking for her, but every call she made went straight to voicemail. Not knowing what else to do, she left her a bunch of messages, explaining the situation and it had been hours but there was still no response.

Na bi looked up at the face in the mirror, her brown eyes reminding her of Ana. She was often told that the two of them looked similar but she could never see how. Yes, they had the same brown eyes and wavy brown hair but other than that, they were nothing alike. Ana looked angelic. She had such kind, warm eyes, a beautiful smile; she was the kind that stood out in a crowd, making heads turn as she walked by. Na Bi on the other hand was as ordinary as could be. Not so pale skin, tired eyes, tired posture, average height, average looks. Nothing about her was really noticeable…..except maybe her lips. She was told more than often that she had very irresistible lips but it was usually in very drunk and desperate settings so she never really took it seriously.

Throwing on an old t shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, Na bi dressed herself to work, eyes and mind still on her phone. From what she understood, it seemed like those men knew they could find Ana at the hospital. If Ana was lucky and Na bi was not too late, then maybe she could find Ana at work and warn her before they got to her. The man in the shadows did say all he wanted was a conversation but honesty was not exactly the defining factor of men who hid in the dark behind their guns. There was no reason to believe that Ana was not in danger from him.

Then again, he did let her go.

Na bi might not have seen his face or know who he was but she knew of their intentions, she had seen their hide out, she had seen enough. She was exactly the kind of loose ends that people like them made sure to clean up. They should have done away with her and ended this instead her she was, safe and alive. Either they were not smart enough to realise just how risky it was for them to let her go or they were somehow capable of some form of humane reasoning and had spared her considering picking her was their mistake. Na bi didn’t think either were possible, which meant there was something else she was missing here.

And those words of his kept ringing in her ears.

“You’ll come back to me.”

“I won’t.” She stubbornly muttered again to no one in particular and stepped out of her house into the darkness before dawn.

Two hours later, Na bi found herself standing in front of apartment number 186.

The moment she reached the hospital, she hastened to the oncology ward, looking for Ana. To her surprise, it had been days since Ana came to work and no one had heard from her in quite a while. Something was not right. Na bi immediately got a nurse to look up Ana’s hospital records for any alternative forms of contact but suspiciously, there were none - no emergency contact, no family members mentioned, no workplace hotline, but there was an address. Quickly scribbling it on a post-it note, she dropped a message to her attending about an upset stomach and left the hospital. After a 20-minute bus ride, a short walk and a ride up the elevator, Na bi was finally standing in front of the door number on her paper, praying Ana was in there.

She wasn’t picking calls and hadn’t been seen for days – the idea of finding her in her home was hopeful but given this was Seoul, it was not realistic. And Na bi’s gut feeling was right. No matter how many times she rang the doorbell, there was no response; no one was home. She had a feeling the trip here would be pointless but maybe it wasn’t that futile after all because just as she turned to leave, a chilly wind brushed her arm and Na bi traced its source to a small crack between the door and the frame. It was open.

Without much thought, she pushed the door and stepped in. Na bi didn’t know what exactly she was expecting to find in here, but everything seemed….. fine? At least at first sight, till she noticed the details.

The dishes in the sink were giving off a repulsive smell, the trash clearly hadn’t been cleared in very long. There was a bowl of cereal and milk which seemed like it was sitting on the counter for days now. The fruits in the bowl had rotten and the bread loaf on the table was way past its expiry date. To simply put it, it seemed like no one had been here in quite some time. There were no signs of struggle or injury though, no smell of blood. But there were two fading, faint lines made perhaps by suitcase wheels, leading from the door to the cupboard in the room.

Na Bi walked in and opened the wardrobe, immediately noticing it was almost empty. Her eyes skimmed over the remaining contents, mentally noting that there were no pants, not many t shirts and no inner wear at all. She did notice a white shirt that clearly belonged to someone much bigger than Ana - a man's, perhaps a partner? Na bi didn't know Ana had a partner but then again, she didn't even know Ana that well.

One thing was evident though. Given how things were left in the house and that clothes and even cash was missing, Na bi could tell Ana was on the run, perhaps for days now. Maybe she already knew the man in the shadows would come looking for her. Maybe she made sure to disappear before she was caught.

As much as Na bi was curious, there was no time to speculate – the front door creaked; someone else was here.

Following her instinct, she quickly climbed into the cupboard, closing the doors as softly as she could, covering her mouth tight to not let even the soft sound of her breathing be heard. She watched through the tiny air vents of the cupboard as two men she had never seen before walked in, armed with guns, looking around.

“See, there’s no one here.”

“But I swear I saw her. A brown-haired woman walked into the building-"

“Hundreds of people live in this apartment; it was clearly someone else. Where’s your head at, are you drinking on the job?”

“Of course, I wasn’t…It really looked like Ana….” The shorter of the two looked around, first confused then disgusted. “Every time I come in here, I forget how terrible the smell is. Why can’t we get someone to clear the trash? Those bananas especially- ”

“Boss said nothing here was to be touched remember? Just do your job. Watch the place as you were instructed.”

“But it’s terribly boring…”

And the voices faded away, perhaps as they left, allowing Na Bi to loosen her tense muscles just before they began to cramp. She gave it a good ten-minute grace period to make sure they were truly gone and climbed out of the closet. Thinking fast, she quickly stripped out of the shirt she was wearing, stuffed it into her own bag and pulled one of Ana’s pink sweaters over her head. She then grabbed a cap that was lying in there and put it on, tucking her hair into it. Without wasting much time, she left the house, leaving the door the way she found it and got into the elevator. Looking at her fuzzy reflection in the silver of the walls, she adjusted her clothes and put on a mask to hide her face just before it opened at the ground floor, revealing the two men from earlier standing right there.

They looked at her but Na bi didn't panic - she made sure they wouldn’t recognise her, there was no reason to be worried but she held her breath nevertheless as she walked past the oblivious men, still arguing about their ‘job’. Head down, she made her way out of the gates and onto the street, processing all the information and most importantly, her biggest observation – those two men, they were not wearing combat boots.

That meant someone else was looking for Ana as well. Someone who already knew who she was and where she lived and by the look of their guns, someone who was equally dangerous. Clearly this whole deal was a lot bigger than Na bi had ever imagined and like an idiot, she had just walked herself straight into the mess.

And also, into the rock-hard chest of a very familiar man.

She looked up, rubbing her hurting forehead to see the man standing with his arms behind his back, a disapproving look all over his face. Dokyeom. And over his shoulder, Na Bi saw a black van. Fuck, don’t tell me-

And sure enough, she was grabbed by her wrist and shoved into the van before it sped off.

10 days later.

“Are you sure you want another drink? You’ve had quite a few tonight.”

Na Bi raised her head and looked at the bartender through her hooded, heavy eyes.

“Just pour what I’m paying you for.” She slurred.

The man shook his head disapprovingly before placing a shot glass with pretty, pink coloured drink on the counter. “You don’t have to pay; the gentleman there already did.”

Na Bi rolled her head back lazily and looked in the direction he was pointing at. Like any other drunk woman, she was used to being approached by all kinds of men in the bar but she usually didn't care much. Though it didn’t take much to bring her inhibitions down, she was always in control of herself and a woman who knew what she wanted. The older men she refused, the younger ones she laughed at, the sleazy ones she steered clear of. But very rarely, a captivating one like him would appear and Na bi did not think she minded this one.

She got up with her drink, a bit too tipsy to fix her shorts that were far too up her thighs and made her way to this so-called gentleman sitting on the bar stool, further down from her. She found herself a place between his manspread, her eyes running from his long, bared neck to his only partially concealed chest. His eyes though, were fixed on her mouth. She knew he wanted it but what was the rush?

“Why this drink?”

“Try it.” He half shouted over the music, so she raised her glass to down it, the warm liquid pleasantly burning her throat.

“I like it.” She licked her lips, knowing his eyes were fixed there. When they flickered up to meet hers, she felt hot under his gaze.

“I like you.” Uh oh, too cheesy.

Na Bi was decently good at reading people which meant she saw right through him. He was incredibly handsome, with the kind of built that probably had women fawning over him all the time, but looking at his soft doe eyes, how his hands didn’t even try to touch her yet and his terrible way with words, she could tell approaching women was not something he did often. Normally Na bi wouldn't have done the following, but today, something pushed her to.

Setting her glass down on the counter, she slowly took his hands and wrapped them around her waist before letting her own go round his neck, fingers making their way into his hair. With just millimetres between them, hot breaths mingling, she expected to feel her pulse quicken, like his did, in the veins of his neck. What she wasn’t expecting was how fast his mouth found hers, latching almost hungrily, like it waited too long. He felt like a strange ecstasy, lips, tongue, teeth, all of it, her stomach knotting like she was plummeting from a height as he pressed her up against himself harder.

Noticing his hands starting to get more daring on her body, much to his surprise she pulled herself from him and walked away, past the dancing crowd to the edge of the club. He watched as she stopped right by the washrooms and turned to him, beckoning him with her finger. His lips breaking into a small smirk, he followed, somehow getting more urgent with each step until he reached her, pushing her back, trapping her between the wall and his mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot, I could take you right here.”

Na bi chuckled at his unexpected desperation, a snide response dancing at the tip of her tongue but it was lost when his mouth moved down her neck and his hands found her ass. Biting back a moan, she revelled in the feeling of his mouth on her, not caring about the many judging eyes she met over his shoulder. Until she saw them.

Two pairs of combat boots. In the middle of the dance floor. Watching her unblinking.

Na bi immediately stiffened and it did not go unnoticed by the man before her who pulled back, looking tensed.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I uh…” Her head slightly spinning, she shook it. “I think I need water. Could you get me some?”

Making sure she was okay once again, he left for the bar, allowing Na bi to look around, observing her surroundings that were starting to turn hazy. They seemed to be the only pair of combat boots around and maybe the alcohol was seriously affecting her judgement but she had enough. Turning on her heel, she quickly walked past the washrooms to the back door of the club, swung it open and stepped out. As expected, the two men instantly followed her but when they stepped out after her, she wasn’t there.

As the door shut, Na bi who had hidden herself behind it, grabbed a discarded metal rod and took a swing at the man closer to her, knocking him out in an instant. His partner immediately turned, his gun pointing right at her but even drunk, she was faster than him, striking him with the same rod, his gun dropping to the ground. Within a second, the tables had turned.

Na bi had possession of the gun, as the man across her stood with his hands in the air, the slightest tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Keys.” Na bi held out her hand. “Car keys.”

Reaching for his back pocket, he took out a bunch of keys and handed it to her slowly.

“Where’s the car?” She raised an eyebrow, repeating when all her gave her was silence. “Where is it?”

“Near the entrance.”

“Do you have a phone?” He shook his head. Sighing Na bi tossed him her phone which he caught frowning in confusion. “9963. Unlock it.”

He complied, holding up the phone to show her.

“Good. Does this gun have a silencer?” This time he nodded. “Then I suggest you act fast. Ambulances take time on Friday nights and this guy has 20 minutes before he bleeds out.”

And without a warning, she aimed the gun at the leg of his partner lying unconscious on the road and took a shot, blood instantly gushing out. Stashing the gun behind her, Na bi ran towards the entrance, without even so much as looking back at what she had done. Reaching the parking lot, she let the sound of the car unlocking to lead her to a black Mercedes and got in, immediately turning on the engine, driving away from the dark of the night to where it was darkest.

It had been a little over a week since Na bi’s little visit to Ana’s house.

That day when she was shoved into the van again, everything made sense - this was why they had let her go. They had expected her to contact Ana to warn her and so evidently, they had their eyes on her the whole time, waiting for her to make a move. Lucky for them, within 24 hours, they went from not knowing a thing about Ana’s identity right to discovering where she lived.

Na bi had underestimated them; she knew something bigger was at play yet she allowed her emotions to cloud her judgement and now she was truly done for. She had given them what they wanted; she was of no use anymore. She accepted that finally her time had come to an end but turned out, she was wrong again. Instead of the warehouse, Na bi found herself being tossed onto the street near her house once more and the black van sped off once before Dokyeom gave her yet another warning.

“Third time’s a charm Baek. I might not be so merciful if I see you again. Stay away from where you don’t belong.”

Anyone in her place would have thanked their stars for getting not one, but two chances to live but Na bi felt an unwarranted anger. The first time they let her go, they had an agenda. They used her to their advantage which meant this time too, they were up to something. Na bi hated the how they kept playing her but the truth was, no matter how many ways she tried to analyse the situation, she had no idea what they wanted from her now. The only one who could put her mind to ease by giving an explanation was the man in the shadows and with a bitter taste in her mouth, Na bi remembered that he predicted she would go back to him.

“You’ll come back to me.”

Recalling the sheer confidence in his voice, Na bi promised herself to do anything but that. He was clearly playing some mind game with her and she was not going to fall for it again.

As far as Ana was concerned, after a lot of contemplation, Na bi decided to go to the cops. After all, that was what any logical, reasonable person in her place would and should do. There was more than one group of dangerous people looking for her and it was only a matter of time before they managed to find her; only the law could help Ana now. But the next afternoon, the moment Na bi stepped into the police station closest to the hospital, she realised that yet again, she was wrong.

Sitting right there on the bench was a widely built man dressed in a black shirt and olive-green pants, tapping away his foot on the concrete floor. His combat boot clad foot. Before he looked up and caught her eye, Na bi looked away as though she didn’t notice him there at all. When a cop approached asking why she was here, thinking fast, she took out the largest bill she could find in her wallet and handed it to him, claiming she found it on the street and left immediately.

Of course the man in the shadows had his men in the police station. Criminals always made sure to stay close to law enforcement - prevention was after all better than cure. Na bi sighed in relief, glad that she was quick enough to notice the man. Had she given her statement, she would have turned from a mere risk factor to an actual threat and the man in the shadows definitely could not be benevolent or dumb enough to let her walk away with that. As much as she hated to admit, there was nothing Na bi could do to help Ana anymore – the time had come to forget any of this ever happened.

Except they wouldn’t let her.

The first time she noticed was that night when she went to close the curtains of her window – standing right across her building on the street was a man leaning against the lamp post smoking his cigarette, the combat boots evident on his feet. Though she felt like her heart was in mouth, Na bi simply drew the curtains and told herself to calm down. She was tired and lived four floors above the ground floor, maybe she was just not seeing right. But the next morning when she left her building, Na bi knew she didn’t make a mistake – he was still there and he was definitely wearing combat boots. Turning up her senses to high alert, Na bi made her way to work and realised much to her horror, the men in combat boots were everywhere – on the roads she walked, in the trains she took, the bakery where she grabbed her breakfast, the library where she worked on her papers and even in her workplace, one sitting aimlessly in the visitor lounge and another with an IV line hooked up for ‘dehydration’.

Na bi was wrong once more. It wasn’t the police station they had their eye on, it was her they were watching. More than just watching actually. She could tell her mail had been opened and checked before she got to it. The newfound buzzing sound in the background of all her calls meant her phone was being tapped. She was being monitored round the clock.

Na bi tried her best to behave like she didn’t notice anything. She still had no idea what these men wanted from her so she knew had to make her every move carefully – she was not going to be their little scapegoat yet again. Though as days passed, it got more and more hard to pretend. Not only was the feeling of constantly being watched invasive, intrusive and extremely uncomfortable, the fact that Na bi still couldn’t fathom why the hell they were doing it was driving her up the wall. But she held it in and let her despisal for ignorance take a backseat while they continued to treat her privacy like it was nothing.

And now, after whole week and a half, she had finally reached her limit. It had been a few very draining days at both work and in her personal life and after weeks, she had come out with some colleagues to wind down, so to see those men watching her when she was having a preferably private moment was just –

Na Bi slammed the brakes as she reached her destination. The man at the bar. She had forgotten all about him and left without an explanation. A slight guilt rose in her chest but it quickly died down. She didn't owe him anything - he was company for just a bit, a momentary escape, an illusion before she threw herself back into her regular life. After the days she had, she badly needed a break from everything but here she was instead, in front of the large doors of the warehouse where it all began.

You’ll come back to me.

She stumbled out of the car, her footing trying its best after all the drinks she had tonight and walked up to the metal doors, pushing them open. Standing right in the middle of a familiar scenery was Dokyeom, who’s eyes narrowed at her first in suspicion, then annoyance.

“How the hell did you find this place?”

“Wasn’t so hard.” Na bi pointed around vaguely. “Looks like a warehouse, reeks of gasoline, mud on my shoes from that night was coal black. Considering It took 30 minutes at average speed when you brought me back home and there were barely any stops on the way means no traffic signals, means highway, means outskirts. Combine all that and there was only one abandoned car engine factory that fit the profile.”

When the weight of her words sunk in, Dokyeom chuckled. “You’re smart.”

“I know.”

“But not smart enough.” He walked up her. “You found a way in but do you have a way out?”

Na bi reached for the gun stashed behind her back and pulled it out, pointing it right at Dokyeom's chest, history repeating itself, just a little differently. Immediately she heard the click of at least 40 guns, men and women finally stepping out from the shadows around, their weapons aimed right at her.

“Now now, let’s not be hasty.” She threw the gun down in the mud, holding her hands up. “I just want to talk.”

“Conversations don’t interest me.”

“I don’t need long. Actually, I can’t take long. You see, I just left a party about 20 minutes ago without informing anyone. Now the amazing people that my friends are, the longer I’m missing, the more likely they are to try to locate me by tracking my phone, which, I should let you know, is with two of your men who are in a very unexplainable, compromising situation right now. So, before it becomes a scene and the cops get involved and this whole thing spirals out of your control and mine, I suggest you let me get my answers and let me go.”

Dokyeom laughed but when his subordinate walked up and whispered something in his ear, the smile was wiped off his face, landing on Na bi’s instead. Her claim had been verified.

“What do you want to know?”

Na bi shook her head, instantly regretting it when her head started spinning. “Not you. I want to talk to your boss.” Dokyeom stiffened, making her click her tongue. She knew she didn’t have long before all those drinks in her body betrayed her. “Tick tock.”

Sighing he moved out of the way, his voice disgruntled. “Straight down, door on the left.”

Taking a deep breath, Na bi followed his instructions and a big white door loomed into sight. Every part of what she was doing was stupid and reckless and insane but it was too late. She had come too far for answers, she just had to go a little further. Ignoring the way everything around her was spinning, she opened the door and stepped in.

Na Bi didn’t know what she expecting to see in here. Her best guess was something straight out of the Godfather movie. Some sort of luxuriously decorated room with a middle-aged man sitting on a velvet couch drinking whiskey on the rocks. But the sight before her was nothing like that. It was a small, simple, dimly lit room with empty white walls, just a wooden table and chair in the middle and in front of it was a young man with his back to her. He was tall and lean, putting on a black vest over his white shirt, looking at her over his shoulder, the long fringes of his hair covering most of his face.

“You came back Ms. Baek.”

He turned, walking up to her, finally appearing in the light and Na bi felt her lips part wordlessly.

He was beautiful. Beautiful in a way dangerous things were. Skin pale like it had never seen the light of day starkly contrasting his jet-black hair pushed back in a way that framed his face so appropriately. His eyes were empty but also saying a hundred unknown things at once. Her gaze wandered down his sharp nose and thin, blood red lips and Na Bi felt like she finally understood what people meant when they told her lips were captivating. There was nothing more she wanted to do than feel them just once, her hand unknown to her, reaching for it.

He took a step back, moving away but she held him by collar and pulled him back towards her, their faces inches away from each other. If Na Bi thought she felt electricity with any other man in her life, what she felt with him was feral. The attraction was inexplicable and illogical and inappropriate.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just really wanted to….” She let him go, stumbling back, feeling her knees starting to give away. “Who… who are you?”

A whole minute passed before he decided to answer. “One.Who.”

Na bi frowned having not heard him clearly. "Wonwoo?"

The edges of his lips curved into a small smile. “Wonwoo.”

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