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hayatheauthor · 10 months
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The Writer's Guide to Authentic Wounds and Fatalities
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Writing fatal injuries in a story requires a delicate balance between realism and narrative impact. The portrayal of these life-altering events can evoke strong emotions in readers and shape the trajectory of your characters' journeys. In this blog, I will explore the intricacies of depicting fatal injuries in a manner that feels authentic, engaging, and respectful to the gravity of such circumstances. By understanding the nuances of fatal injuries, you will be equipped to craft compelling narratives that resonate with your readers.
Writing Fatal Injuries
When it comes to writing fatal injuries, it is crucial to approach the subject with care and accuracy. Fatal injuries carry immense consequences for your characters and can shape the trajectory of your story. By delving into the intricacies of portraying fatal injuries authentically, you can ensure that the gravity and impact of such events are effectively conveyed to your readers.
Choosing the right injuries for your story
Selecting the appropriate fatal injuries for your narrative involves considering various factors. Ask yourself: What purpose does this injury serve within the story? How does it affect the characters and the overall plot? Conduct thorough research to identify injuries that align with your story's context and resonate with the emotional journey of your characters.
For example, in a historical drama, you may research common fatal injuries during a particular era, such as battlefield injuries, diseases, or accidents prevalent at the time. In a crime thriller, you might explore the portrayal of fatal gunshot wounds or traumatic injuries resulting from violent encounters. By aligning the injuries with the context and themes of your story, you create a more immersive and believable experience for your readers.
Researching the mechanics of fatal injuries
To portray fatal injuries convincingly, it is essential to delve into the mechanics behind them. Understand the specific anatomical structures and systems involved, as well as the forces or mechanisms that can lead to fatal outcomes. Explore medical resources, consult experts if possible, and gather insights into the physiological and psychological implications of such injuries.
For instance, if your character suffers a fatal stab wound, research the anatomy involved, the potential organs affected, and the potential consequences such as internal bleeding or organ failure. By understanding the specific details and implications of the injury, you can describe the physical and emotional toll it takes on the character with greater accuracy and depth.
Depicting the immediate aftermath
When writing about fatal injuries, vividly describe the immediate aftermath to capture the intense emotions and physical realities. Consider the sensory details, the shock and disbelief experienced by characters, and the chaotic environment that often surrounds such events. Balancing realism with the needs of your story, create a scene that immerses readers and evokes empathy.
For example, if a character experiences a fatal car accident, you can depict the chaos at the scene, the character's disorientation, and the reactions of witnesses. Emphasize the sensory details such as the sound of screeching tires or the smell of burning rubber, creating a visceral experience for your readers.
Emotional and dramatic impact on the narrative
The impact of fatal injuries extends beyond the immediate moment. Explore the ripple effects on other characters, relationships, and the overall plot. Delve into the emotional responses, grief, guilt, anger, or determination that arises in the aftermath of loss. Utilize these emotional arcs to deepen character development and drive the narrative forward.
For instance, the loss of a loved one due to a fatal illness might lead to grief and strained relationships among the remaining family members. The emotional journey of a character grappling with guilt and seeking redemption after causing a fatal accident can become a central theme in your story. By delving into these emotional arcs and their consequences, you add depth and resonance to your narrative.
Writing Minor Injuries
While fatal injuries may capture our attention with their dramatic impact, it is equally important to pay attention to the portrayal of minor injuries in your writing. Minor injuries, though less severe, can still significantly affect your characters and contribute to the authenticity of your story. In this section, we will explore the art of depicting minor injuries, ensuring that they are not overlooked or trivialized. By delving into the nuances of minor injuries, you can add depth and realism to your characters' experiences.
Types of minor injuries to consider
When crafting your story, it is essential to consider a range of minor injuries that can occur. These injuries can include cuts, bruises, sprains, minor burns, or even minor fractures. Each type of injury carries its own unique characteristics, associated pain levels, and recovery processes. By understanding these distinctions, you can create accurate and believable depictions that resonate with your readers.
For example, a character who sustains a cut on their hand may experience sharp pain, the sight of blood, and the need for immediate first aid. On the other hand, a character with a sprained ankle may struggle with mobility, experience swelling, and require rest and care for a few days. By paying attention to these specific details, you can enhance the realism of your storytelling.
Conveying pain and discomfort
When writing about minor injuries, it is important to effectively convey the pain and discomfort experienced by your characters. Consider describing the sensation of pain, the throbbing or stinging feeling, and how it affects their daily activities or interactions. Showcasing the emotional impact of pain, such as frustration, irritation, or vulnerability, can deepen the readers' connection to the character's experience.
For instance, if a character suffers from a sprained wrist, you can describe the dull ache that persists, making simple tasks like typing or holding objects challenging. By capturing these small but significant moments, you immerse readers in the character's struggle and create a more realistic portrayal.
Balancing realism with narrative pace
While it is important to depict minor injuries realistically, it is also crucial to strike a balance with the overall pace and momentum of your story. Consider the significance of the injury within the larger context of your narrative. Some injuries may require more detailed attention and impact the plot, while others may serve as background elements. Adjust the level of detail and focus accordingly, ensuring that the portrayal of minor injuries aligns with the narrative's flow.
For example, a small cut on a character's finger may not require an extensive description unless it becomes infected or triggers an unexpected consequence. By aligning the portrayal of minor injuries with their narrative relevance, you maintain a consistent pace while still acknowledging their impact on your characters' lives.
Writing Bloodshed And Realistic Blood Loss
When writing about wounds and injuries, it is essential to consider the amount of blood loss your characters may experience. Realistic portrayal of bloodshed can enhance the authenticity of your scenes and immerse readers in the gravity of the situation. In this section, we will explore the factors influencing blood loss and techniques for accurately depicting it in your writing.
Understanding blood loss and its impact on the body
To authentically portray blood loss, it's crucial to have a basic understanding of how the human body responds to injury. Research the circulatory system and the role of blood in transporting oxygen and nutrients throughout the body. Consider the different types of blood vessels and their potential for bleeding when injured. This knowledge will help you create realistic scenarios and determine the appropriate level of blood loss for specific injuries.
Factors influencing blood loss in different injury scenarios
The amount of blood loss can vary depending on the severity and location of the injury. Factors such as the size of blood vessels, the rate of bleeding, and the body's ability to clot play a significant role. For example, a deep laceration in an artery will result in more substantial blood loss compared to a superficial cut on the skin. Consider these factors when describing injuries and their resulting bloodshed.
Techniques for accurately portraying blood loss in writing
There are several techniques you can use to convey the realistic impact of blood loss in your writing. Describing the color, consistency, and flow of blood can provide vivid imagery. You can also include physical symptoms such as dizziness, weakness, or fainting that may accompany significant blood loss. Additionally, consider the emotional response of your characters and how they react to the sight of blood or their own injuries.
By incorporating these techniques, you can create scenes that evoke a visceral response in readers and enhance the authenticity of your writing.
Bruises: Colors, Progression, and Pain
Bruises are a common result of injuries, and understanding how they form, change in color, and cause discomfort can greatly enhance the realism of your writing. By accurately describing bruises, you can bring depth to your characters' injuries and portray their healing process convincingly.
Understanding the stages and colors of bruises
Bruises go through distinct stages of color as they heal. Initially, they may appear red or purple due to the broken blood vessels beneath the skin. Over time, the color changes to blue, green, yellow, and eventually fades to a brown or yellowish hue. Understanding this color progression can help you accurately describe the age of a bruise and the healing process.
For example, a fresh bruise might be vivid purple, indicating recent trauma, while a fading bruise may have a yellowish tinge, suggesting that healing has begun. By incorporating these color details, you can add realism to your characters' injuries and track the passage of time within your narrative.
Depicting the progression of bruises over time
As bruises heal, they often change in appearance and size. Initially, a bruise may be small and localized, but it can gradually spread and become more extensive. Describing this progression can provide a sense of the healing process and the passage of time within your story.
For instance, a character who sustains a significant blow to the face may develop a bruise that starts as a small spot near the eye but expands to cover a larger area over the next few days. By accurately portraying the progression of bruises, you enhance the authenticity of your characters' injuries and their recovery.
Conveying the pain and sensitivity associated with bruises
Bruises can be painful, sensitive to touch, and affect a character's movement and daily activities. Describing the pain and discomfort experienced by your characters can create empathy and immerse readers in their physical ordeals.
Consider conveying the tenderness of a bruise when pressure is applied, the throbbing sensation, or the limitation of movement due to the pain.
Remember The Side Effects
Injuries, whether minor or severe, often come with a range of side effects that can significantly impact your characters' lives. These side effects can extend beyond the physical realm and encompass emotional, psychological, and social aspects.
Physical side effects
Injuries can have profound physical side effects that go beyond the immediate pain and discomfort. Consider the potential consequences such as limited mobility, impaired coordination, chronic pain, or the need for assistive devices like crutches or braces. Describing these physical side effects can add depth to your characters' struggles and provide a realistic portrayal of their healing journey.
For example, a character who sustains a leg injury may experience difficulty walking, require physical therapy, or have long-term complications that affect their day-to-day activities. By addressing these physical side effects, you create a more nuanced depiction of the aftermath of injuries.
Emotional and psychological side effects
Injuries can have a profound emotional and psychological impact on characters. They may experience fear, anxiety, trauma, or a loss of confidence. Consider how the injury affects their self-image, relationships, or mental well-being. Explore the emotional journey your characters undergo as they navigate the aftermath of their injuries.
For instance, a character who survives a near-fatal accident may develop post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and struggle with recurring nightmares or panic attacks. By incorporating these emotional and psychological side effects, you can deepen the complexity of your characters and their responses to traumatic experiences.
Social implications and changes
Injuries can also lead to significant social changes for your characters. They may face challenges in their personal relationships, encounter stigma or discrimination, or experience changes in their roles or identities. Explore how the injury affects their interactions with others and their sense of belonging in the world.
For example, a character who sustains a facial injury may encounter judgment or stares from others, leading to self-consciousness or isolation. By addressing the social implications and changes resulting from injuries, you can create multi-dimensional characters and explore the impact of their injuries on their social dynamics.
By incorporating these various side effects into your writing, you bring depth and authenticity to your characters' experiences and showcase the wide-ranging impact of injuries.
Conclusion
Writing authentic wounds and fatalities requires attention to detail and a deep understanding of the physical, emotional, and psychological aspects involved. By following the guidelines and exploring the subheadings discussed in this guide, you can create compelling and realistic portrayals of injuries in your writing.
Remember to conduct thorough research on the specific injuries you want to depict, understanding their mechanics, symptoms, and potential outcomes. Consider the immediate and long-term effects on your characters, both physically and emotionally. Incorporate sensory details to immerse readers in the experience, describing the pain, bloodshed, colors of bruises, and the progression of healing.
Additionally, don't forget to address the side effects that injuries can have on your characters' lives. Explore the physical limitations, emotional struggles, and social implications that arise from their injuries. By delving into these aspects, you can create well-rounded characters and compelling narratives that resonate with readers.
I hope this blog on forging epic battles will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  
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quintinh43 · 14 days
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How It All Began | Quinn Hughes
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Summary: Quinns family finally finds out that Him and y/n are together. Featuring our local B.c. boy, the one and only Mat Barzal. Based loosely off of this.
Parings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None I think. Maybe some anxious feelings. Part of this universe but can be read as a stand alone.
Wc: 5.7k
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The door clicks shut, breaking your focus and signifying that Quinn is home from practice. As he passes by the couch, he drops a kiss to your head, ruffling your hair as he goes. "Hi baby," he murmurs quietly, not wanting to disturb you while you mark math tests. 
"Hi Q," you say off-handedly, grimacing as you circle another question in red and write down the correct answer. This poor kid is going to need some extra help. You quickly scan your attendance list and put a star beside his name. 
Quinn busies himself by taking a quick shower and cutting up some fruit as a snack before he flops on the couch and pillows his head on your thigh. Your fingers automatically delve into his hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly. He lets out a contented sigh as he snatches the TV remote and navigates to YouTube to play some sort of educational video that will make his brain work. 
Occasionally, he holds a piece of fruit up for you, and you take it without hesitation, often catching his fingers between your teeth playfully. Halfway through a video about Moser's circle problem, he pauses it and takes the pen and paper from your hand, setting them on the coffee table neatly. 
"Sorry to disrupt your marking, babe," he says softly, holding up a strawberry for you in a sort of apology, "I have a question for you." His tongue darts against his lip in a nervous habit as he awaits your response.
"All good, baby; I could use a break anyway." You smile, happily taking the slice of strawberry into your mouth. You lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his nerves, "What's your question?"
"Will you come to Michigan with me this summer? I know you usually say no, but now you're my girlfriend, and I don't wanna spend the summer without you. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna, and I won't push, but it'd really mean a lot to me to have you there and-" 
Your smile grows as he rambles, and you cut him off with a kiss. "Yes, Quinn, I'll come to Michigan with you this summer and for every summer after that, as long as you'll have me,"
The smile Quinn gives you is dazzling and filled with love, "for the rest of our lives?"
"For the rest of our lives," you confirm, sealing your lips over his in another sweet kiss. You pull away for air, smoothing his hair down with a smile. "Now make yourself useful and help me mark these tests," you say nudging him into a sitting position.
"Tyrant," he mutters, though he can barely keep the smile off his face. He splits the remainder of the stack of tests in half and slides a pile over to you. You give him the answer key, already having memorized most of the answers and the two of you work comfortably side by side. After the stack of tests is marked you hand Quinn your trusty sticker book, and he lights up as he takes it from you, he places a sticker on each test with such care it makes your heart melt.
The remainder of the evening passes by in the blissful peace of each other's company, and soon the two of you are curled around each other, fast asleep on the couch.
-
The months fly by as the weather grows warmer, and the canucks are in the playoffs. It's a bit of an adjustment, dealing with the chaos of the end of the school year while Quinn captains a playoff team, but if the pair of you are good at anything, it's adapting to what life throws at you. 
Soon, hockey season is over, and it's the last day of the school year. Honestly, you are just as happy as the kids. The day flies by in a whirlwind of fun, and soon enough, you're hugging your students goodbye and promising you'll visit them in their class next year. You'll never admit it, but it makes you feel a little emotional every time.
Quinn picks you up from school with a bouquet of flowers and two slices of pie from the shop downtown that the two of you reserve exclusively for special occasions. Quinn leans over the center console and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, turning you to putty in his arms. 
"Happy last day of school, Ms. Y/l/n," he smirked, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your cheek. 
You can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, and you lace your fingers with his as he drives to Prospect Point. You pick a place on the sea wall for the two of you to sit and prepare to feast on the pie. 
"To the best summer of our lives," Quinn grins, tapping his pie against yours. You smile, your heart full, and you dig in.  
"How do you know it'll be the best summer of our lives?" You tease, watching the boats on the water. 
"Because for the first time," Quinn murmurs with a grin, taking your chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make you look at him, "we'll be spending it together," he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close. 
"I love you, Quintin," you hum with a smile. 
"I love you too, Y/n," he leans against you, and you thread your fingers through his hair as you watch boats drift along the waterline, lit by the glow of the setting sun. And at that moment, everything was right in the world. 
The sun disappears over the horizon, and Quinn wraps his arm over your shoulders as you walk back to the car, "we gotta get you packed," he mumbles against your hair. 
"Ugh, don't remind me," you groan. "I hate packing,"
"Well, I already told you you could bring a small bag and I'll take you shopping when we get to Mich, but somebody didn't like that idea," he sasses, nipping at your ear. 
You flick him in the nose, scowling, "Shut up,"
"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. 
As soon as you get home, Quinn wastes no time, pulling out a suitcase for you as you go through the list of what you need to pack. Quinn leaves you to it, knowing that there's a method to your madness, and the only thing he can do to help is sit there and look pretty.
He's lounging on the bed while piles of clothing surround you. As you start neatly packing things into the suitcase you go through the pile of swimsuits once more, "Are you sure I need this many swimsuits?" You ask skeptically, for what is probably the third time. 
"Yes, babe. We are on the water almost every day," he says again. His answer still the same as the last time you asked.
"Oh!" You spring up with a smile on your face and saunter to the closet, "I just remembered..."
"Remembered what, babe?" Quinn asks curiously, rolling over on the bed so he's no longer looking at you upside down as you emerge from the closet with a blue plastic card. You present it to him with a big smile.
He squints his eyes, snatching the card from your hands. "Is this real?"
You scoff. "Of course, it's real."
"No fucking way," Quinn says, wide-eyed, flipping it over and inspecting the back of it, "We have known each other for so long, and you never mentioned you had a boat license." 
You roll your eyes and plant yourself in the middle of your piles of clothing again while Quinn inspects your very real boating license. "I basically grew up on the Okanagan, of course, I have a boat license." 
"Oh baby, Jack just got demoted from first mate," he chuckles, grin spreading wide. 
You giggle as you pack everything into the suitcase, "I'm excited to see everyone. It's been way too long." 
"Speaking of seeing everyone..." he trails off, nervously fiddling with his fingers, "I didn't tell them about us yet. Or that you're coming."
Confusion is written on your features as you look at him. Your heart stutters a little. He notices the look on your face and is quick to tamper your worries. "I just- I wanted to tell them in person. You're so important to me and to my family as well, and it didn't feel right to tell them over the phone, you know?" 
"I'm nervous." You say quietly, zipping up your suitcase after you've packed everything into it. Quinn stands, pulling you into his arms, you melt into the warmth of his body and loop your arms around his back. 
"They already love you, baby, don't even worry," he says, planting a sweet kiss on your hair. You sigh against his chest and let the beat of his heart calm your nerves. His hands stroke your back in soothing circles, and he starts to sway the two of you back and forth. 
"Alexa, play Heaven by Bryan Adams," Quinn says just loud enough for the device to pick up his voice. You smile into his chest as soft music fills the room, and all of a sudden, tears well at the corners of your eyes because this is everything you have ever dreamed of and more. 
"I love you so much, Quinn," you murmur against his shirt, "more than I have words for."
Quinn pulls away, cupping your face and kissing the tears from your cheeks, "don't cry, baby," he says earnestly, not knowing the reason for your tears.
"Happy tears," you choke out with a smile, nuzzling your cheek against his hand with a happy sigh. He pulls you back into his chest and sways to the music until the song is over. You stand on your tip toes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles against your mouth "Gotta finish packing sweets," he mutters, squeezing your waist. You nip at his lip playfully, and he pulls away with an overdramatic hiss. 
"Why'd you have to remind me?" You pout, crossing your arms against your chest.
Quinn chuckles, smoothing his tongue along his bottom lip, "Come on, babe, I know you won't be able to relax until you get it done. Plus, now it's just your airplane bag, and then you're free." 
You sigh, knowing he's correct, as you gather the things that need to go in your backpack. Your iPad, current book, AirPods, chargers, wallet, passport, and all the other important stuff that need to go in your backpack. Quinn rolls your suitcase by the door, and you place your backpack on top of it, finally done packing for the night.
"How are we getting to the airport?" You ask, mouth full of toothpaste as you and Quinn prepare for bed side by side. Quinn's hair is held back by one of those silly skincare headbands.
You can't help but snap a photo of the two of you. Quinn patted his face dry with a towel, brown curls were pushed back by a lavender headband, you had your toothbrush hanging half out of your mouth, and your hair was pushed back with a matching blue headband. 
Quinn rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to your cheek and you snap another photo with a giggle. Domestic Quinn is your favourite Quinn because he's all yours. No one else gets to see him like this.
Quinn finishes drying his face, "Hmm, I think Barzy said he would take us, I'll text him and double-check."
It takes a minute for the nickname to place, but as soon as it does, you whip around to face him, a piece of floss stuck between your teeth, "Barzy? As in Barzal? Like Matthew Barzal of the New York Islanders?"
Quinn looks at you strangely, "What other Barzal's do you know?"
"Since when are you buddies with Mat Barzal?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
Quinn furrows his brows, trying to recall when he became friends with Mat, "Since I moved to Vancouver? I swear you knew this?" 
"No, I didn't," you shake your head, throwing your floss in the garbage. 
"His family lives in Coquitlam. I usually pick him up from the airport when he flies in if I'm still in Vancouver," he shrugs. He swore you knew all of this. Then again, this is the first time he's been around this far into the off-season. He unusually catches the first possible flight out to Michigan, but this time, he stuck around until you were finished teaching.
Your eyes light up in recognition. "Is that the 'Matty' you pick up from the airport every year?" You ask as all the pieces click into place. 
Quinn nods, flipping off the bathroom light and texting mat while you curl up on your respective side of the bed, holding the quilt up for him to slip underneath. "Mat says he'll drop us off," Quinn says, ensuring his alarm is set before he plugs his phone in and slips under the covers beside you. 
As always, you curl into his side, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as possible, stroking patterns along your arm. You toss your leg over his hip, and his other hand finds its home on your leg.
"Night baby, I love you," you whisper against his chest.
"I love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your hair. 
The morning brings a whirlwind of chaos. Making sure neither of you forgot anything important, triple checking to be sure there's nothing left in the fridge that will go bad, amongst other things. There's a knock on the door while Quinn ensures everything is unplugged around the apartment. 
"Ready to go?" Quinn asks as he's locking the apartment door. It's a rhetorical question; it's time to go whether you are ready or not, but the fact that he still cares enough to ask makes your chest warm. 
"Yeah," you sigh, locking your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile as the two of you walk to the awaiting car of Mat Barzal. He pops the trunk, and Quinn hoists your suitcase into the back. 
You slip into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for Quinn. Mat whips towards you with a grin, tilting his head so he can see you over the rims of his sunglasses. "You must be the missus," he sticks his hand out for you to shake, "it's good to finally meet you. Huggy never shuts up about you."
You smile, shaking his hand, "Good to meet you too, Mat. I can't believe Quinn has never introduced us before now," 
Quinn slips into the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. "Cause I knew you two would get along like a house on fire, and frankly, that's something out of my nightmares."
"Oh hush, Huggy," Mat produces a tray from seemingly out of nowhere carrying three takeout cups, "drink your green juice before you pop a vein," he says, handing Quinn the cup with some healthy-looking green juice in it. Quinn takes the cup with a grumble. 
"And for the lady," Mat produces a cup of coffee, "I hope you like hazelnut lattes. Quinn didn't text me back fast enough about your coffee order, so this is what I got." 
"This is perfect, thank you." You say, taking the cup from him, incredibly happy now that you have your hands on some caffeine.
"Thanks for feeding my girlfriend's addiction you ass," Quinn grumbles. His tone is teasing, and his words are light-hearted, but it's funny how Mat sticks out his bottom lip in an offended pout. 
"It's not an addiction!" You protest with a gasp, keeping your coffee close to your chest as if Quinn might try to steal it. 
The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with friendly banter and you and Mat exchange numbers. Quinn pretends it's the worst thing to happen, but secretly, he's happy that you and Mat are getting along.
Mat steps out to do the bro hug thing with Quinn and then grabs your suitcase from the car. Mat pulls you into a side hug, "It was good to meet you, Missus. I know you probably know this, but Quinn loves you a lot. He wears his love for you on his face, which is surprising considering that he's... well, he's Quinn." Mat says with an awkward chuckle. 
It's surprising to hear from someone else. You'd never really thought about how Quinn looks at you in public. To you, he's sassy, and he talks a lot. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and he isn't afraid to make his feelings known. To the public, he's quiet and respectful and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 
So to hear that he wears his love for you in his face, publicly, in the open, for the world to see, well, it makes your heart flutter warmly in your chest.
Quinn rejoins the two of you, leaning casually against your suitcase. You take that as your cue to leave and turn to hug Mat for real.
"Thanks for saying that, Mat. It means a lot." You whisper to him. 
Mat chuckles, patting you on the back, "Of course, it was good to meet you, Y/n. I'm gonna let you go now because Quinn looks like he might try to kill me, but send me lots of photos of the two of you this summer, ok?"
It's an odd request, mainly because you just met, but you like him, and you know you're going to become good friends, so you smile and promise you'll send him lots of photos. 
"Thanks for driving us to the airport, Barzy," Quinn smiles, dabbing him up one last time before the two of you head into the airport.
Quinn offers his hand for you, leading the two of you through the airport. You take it gratefully, happy not to have to use your brain. Soon enough, you're seated side by side on the plane, ready to take off. Quinn hands you water while you pop your drugs, ready to pass out. Flying has never been a favourite activity of yours, so you usually take a couple of nighttime advils and knock out for the duration of the flight.
It's like magic, really; You go to sleep in one place and wake up in another. You pillow your head on Quinn's shoulder, and before you know it, you are out cold.
Approximately six hours later, Quinn is shaking you awake ever so gently, "We're here, babe, planes landed," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your head. 
You blink the sleep from your eyes, your brain feeling a little groggy. "Times' it?" You mumble, flopping your head back onto Quinn's shoulder. 
"4:27 pm," 
You hum in acknowledgement, rubbing your eyes with a sigh. The flight attendants announced that it was time to start deboarding. Quinn nudges you up while he grabs both of your backpacks from the overhead compartment. He gives you yours and grabs your hand, leading you off the plane to collect your baggage. 
As the two of you wait by the baggage carousel, you lean against the sturdiness of Quinn's body, still groggy from the meds. Quinn rubs his hands up and down your arms in soothing motions. His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he pulls it out with a huff. His eyes light up instantly when he sees that it's Jack and Luke in their group chat.
“Jack and Luke are here,” he whispers with a smile. Suddenly, you are wide awake; you haven't seen either of them since December, and holy fuck, you miss them. “I told them to park and come in,”
“They still don't know I'm here, right?” you question excitedly. Quinn nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how excited you are. “You face that way, and tell me when they’re coming,” you say, stepping away from Quinn so you aren't standing suspiciously close to him. Quinn chuckles at your request and does it anyway, facing the entrance to the airport so he can see when his brothers enter. You are practically vibrating with excitement as you wait for them to arrive. 
You and Quinn can hear them before you see them, “-well, he probably told us to come in because he has a suitcase or something,” Jack says, exasperated.
“But why does he have a suitcase? He never brings a suitcase?” Luke asks confused
They round the corner as Jack sighs. He points to Quinn and slaps Luke upside the head, “Go ask him yourself,”
You are covering your mouth with a hand to keep your laughter quiet, and Quinn is peaking at you out of the corner of his eye with a very amused look. 
“What’r you smiling about Quinner?” Luke asks, looping his arm around his brother. Quinn pats his back as Jack joins the hug, throwing himself at Quinn’s free side. Quinn loops his free arm around him with a grunt. “Just happy to see you dumbasses,”
“So why’d you have luggage?” Luke asks, brows raised. 
You choose that moment to face them, “It’s mine, actually,” you grin. 
Both of their jaws drop to the floor, and they scramble to untangle themselves from Quinn and throw themselves at you instead. Jack gets to you first, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Luke hugs you around your back. It's awkward because of your backpack, but he is too impatient to wait for Jack to let go, “Y/n, are you really here?” Jack says quietly. 
“No, she’s a figment of your imagination,” Luke says with an eye roll, squeezing you just a little tighter “Yes, she’s here, dumbass,”
Quinn chuckles at the interaction, grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt as it passes. He leans on it, watching as his brothers practically squeeze the life out of you. 
“No one asked you,” Jack huffs. You smile against Jack's neck and tap his arm for him to let go of you. Jack whirls on Quinn, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “How come you didn't tell us she was coming?”
“It was a surprise.” he shrugs with a smirk. 
Luke loops an arm around your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. You have known the kid since he was a fourteen-year-old who barely came up to your shoulder. At this point, he is basically your little brother. Hopefully, one day, he will be. 
“Does this mean you finally pulled your head out of your ass and confessed that you’ve been head over heels for her since you’ve met?” Jack asks bluntly, he pulls on the strap of your backpack to take it from you, and you let him gladly..
Luke cackles, and you laugh behind your hand while Quinn goes red in the face. “Technically, I’m the one who confessed.” you grin, walking towards the door.
“So tell us the story,” Jack nudges with a grin. 
“Oh god, can we not?” Quinn groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Quinn, please tell me you did not embarrass the family name,” Luke says all too seriously. 
“Shut up, Luke. At least I have a girlfriend.”
“So he did embarrass the family name then,” Jack says teasingly.
You just smile, and Jack breaks out into a cackle. Quinn grumbles unintelligibly as he places your suitcase into the trunk. He holds his hand out for the keys, and Luke pouts but hands them over without argument as the older sibling, Quinn, is quite literally incapable of allowing his younger siblings to drive while he is in the car. Quinn opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in with a smile, kissing him on the cheek. 
“UGH, THAT WAS SO GROSS,” Luke yells dramatically, covering his eyes. “Keep your grimy lips off  her, you heathen!”
“She literally kissed me, you dumbass,” Quinn says, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the seat to his comfort, he laces your fingers together, and you keep your intertwined hands perched in your lap. The drive to the lake house is filled with friendly chatter. Jack and Luke ask about your work, how the kids are, and when they can come to visit next year. You ask them about their last season, how their summer is going, if they are excited for the next season, and everything else that comes to mind. 
It’s almost sad that the drive is over as the car pulls up to Lake House. Until you remember you’re about to see Ellen and Jim for the first time in a while. The excitement returns tenfold, and you don't even care about surprising them. As the car rolls to a stoop and you burst out before Quinn has had the chance to put it in park, you can’t remember why you were nervous about coming to Michigan. 
“Hi Quinn, we’re in the kitchen!” Ellen's voice calls as she hears the front door open. Following the sound of Ellen's voice you find the kitchen easily.
“Hi El, Hi Jim,” you say with a sheepish smile. They look up, startled by a voice that is most definitely not Quinn. 
Jim comes over with a smile, pulling you into a side hug. “Hey Kiddo, long time, its good to see you.”
“Oh my goodness! Y/n!” Ellen drops what she is doing and practically runs to hug you, “Welcome to Michigan, Honey! How come no one told us you were coming? Where are the boys?” 
As if on cue, the boys appear in a wave of chaos, Luke dragging your suitcase, Quinn and Jack carrying the backpacks. “Hey, mom, hey, dad,” Quinn says, dropping his bag and hugging them respectively.
Ellen nudges him in the stomach with an elbow, and he doubles over dramatically. “How come you didn't tell us you were bringing Y/n?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her son. 
“She’s finally his girlfriend!” Luke yells as he drags your bags upstairs to Quinn's room.
Ellen's head whips between you two, “surprise,” Quinn says sheepishly, making jazz hands at his mom. Jim snorts and resumes setting the table. Ellen’s face settles into a soft, knowing smile. And she pulls you in for another hug along with Quinn. 
“I thought he was never gonna confess at this rate.” Ellen teases. 
“Well, actually,” you start with a grin, and Quinn is already groaning, “I was the one who confessed,”
“Well, we would love to hear the whole story at dinner, Quinn. Why don’t you give her a quick mini-tour and then freshen up? Dinner will be ready in less than ten.” 
“Sure, Mom,” he drops a kiss to her hair and grabs you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen, back into the living room and up the stairs where Luke had disappeared with your luggage, pointing out things along as you go. He promises a more in-depth tour after dinner as he drags you to his bedroom so the two of you can freshen up.
Jack and Luke had brought all of your luggage up, thank god. You grab your toothbrush out of your bag, and Quinn points you in the direction of the bathroom. “Do you want something to change into?” he asks as he shuffles through his closet. 
“I wouldn't be opposed to a t-shirt,” you answer, undoing your hair and rubbing your fingers into your scalp to release the tension from having your hair up since this morning. You brush your teeth quickly and strip off your hoodie, tossing it on top of your suitcase, as Quinn hands you a t-shirt. As you pull it over your head, the comforting smell of Quinn engulfs you, and you sigh happily. 
Suddenly, Quinn is in front of you, wrapping his arms around you loosely, and you practically fall into him. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, his hands finding your bare skin under your shirt. 
“So happy I came with you, Q,” you smile against his chest. 
“Me too, baby, me too,” he sighs.
Ellen's voice echos up the stairs, saying that dinner is ready, and Quinn places a kiss on your cheek before loosely tangling your fingers together and leading you back down the stairs. Quinn sits on your left, your thing comfortable resting on top of his. Luke is on your right, and Jim, Ellen and Jack are across from you. 
“So tell us the story of how you finally got together,” Ellen prompts, handing you the potatoes.
“Oh god, must we?” Quinn groans,
“Quinn did something embarrassing apparently,” Jack grins, piling his plate high with food.
Their parents don't comment, but the sly smiles that adorn their faces tell you they expected nothing less from their son. “Please spare no expense. We've only waited half a decade for this,” Luke says seriously. 
“It was nothing special, really,” you smile, “we were just having dinner, and then it slipped out.” you shrug. 
Jack pokes you with his foot under the table, and you glare at him playfully. “Come on, you are holding out on us. What happened after that?”
“Nothing,” you smile. 
“Nothing?” Luke questions, and you know he’s caught on as you nod in confirmation.
“As in…” Ellen eyes Quinn with an intensity that only a mother can manage, “Quinn did nothing,” 
Quinn hides his face, absolutely mortified, “he didn't do anything, didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there with a blank stare,” you say, smiling fondly as you recall how the night went. It was funny looking back on it now, but at that time, it was the most horrifying moment of your life.
“Quinn, seriously!” Luke scolds, “The girl you love confesses her undying feelings, and you do nothing! That's so embarrassing. We’re renouncing you as a Hughes.”
“Pretty sure I'm the only one who has that power, kiddo,” Jim chimes in with a teasing smile. 
“So what happened after that?” Jack encourages with a wave of his hand.
“Well, naturally, after you confess your feelings for your best friend and he just kind of stands there frozen like a baby deer in headlights, you feel pretty mortified,” you shrug, “so naturally, I ran away.”
“Oh my god! You didn't!” Luke gasps dramatically. 
“Mhmm,” you nod, “I did,” you nudge Quinn gently so he can continue the story. 
“Forgot her phone, keys, wallet, everything,” Quinn says, shaking his head, “I was freaking out, so I kinda just ran out of the apartment after her. I’m sprinting down the streets of downtown Vancouver after dark, and it starts raining. Eventually, like, ten minutes later, I found her crying on a park bench, soaked to the bone and shivering like there was no tomorrow.” 
“And just as I was about to take off again, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me he loves me too,” you say, smiling softly. 
“Dude, that's straight out of The Notebook,” Jack laughs, 
“Well, that will make a fun wedding story.” Ellen smiles, 
“That's what Quinn said,” You say, grinning. 
“Good job, Quinner. I honestly expected much more embarrassment on your part.” Luke says much too happily. 
“Gee, thanks for having so much faith in me, Moose.” Quinn rolls his eyes.
“I’m sure the real version is much less PG,” Jack mutters with a smirk, earning himself a jab from his mother. Your cheeks warm, and your gaze drops to your plate while the tips of Quinn’s ears go pink.
Jack’s smirk grows wider at your reactions, and he's cackling as he takes his next bite of food.
“After that, I moved into his place, and that's basically it, and now we're here.” 
“And we're glad to have you,” Ellen smiles.
The remainder of dinner passes quickly, the conversation flowing between the five of you easily. You help clean the kitchen. “Wanna do a sunset boat ride?” Quinn asks as he dries his hands on the dish towel, “I'm itching to get on the water.”
“I'm down,” Luke and Jack say simultaneously, while Jim and Ellen nod in agreement.
“Everyone get a hoodie, you know how cold it gets on the boat as soon as the sun starts to set,” Ellen instructs while she heads up the stairs to grab hoodies for her and Jim. 
“I’ll go get two for us,” Quinn murmurs, disappearing up the stairs behind his mom.
He comes back down, not a minute later, with two hoodies in hand. He hands you the blue Canucks hockey one and takes the grey one for himself. 
“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Quinn starts as you all make your way to the dock, “you've been demoted as first mate and secondary driver,”
“What?” Jack practically screeches, “What did I do to deserve this?”  he whines. 
Quinn simply whips your boat license out of his pocket and shows it to Jack with a shit-eating grin. 
Jack's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Don’t worry, Jack,” you laugh, “I would never usurp your position like that.” you pat him on the head reassuringly, and he can't help but smile at you. 
Quinn hops over the side of the boat, and ever the gentleman offers you a hand. You take it with a smile and go to choose a seat, but before you can do so, Quinn is pulling you onto his lap in the driver's seat. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You are, after all, in front of his family. No one comments. They all simply smile knowingly as Quinn wraps one arm around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.
With the comforting strength of Quinn’s body beneath you, the sunset on the lake and the soft chatter of the Hughes melding with the wind rushing in your ears, you decide that this will, in fact, be the best summer of your life. 
-
Ya'll I am so so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be out Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday, then Monday morning. And here we are. Monday night. Finally.
Some crazy shit happened 😭
Anyways, last final is on Thursday and then I have all the free time in the world to write!
Hope yall are having a wonderful day/night/evening/time etc.
As always, comments are much appreciated.
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sas-soulwriter · 4 months
Text
Dark writing prompts
Some dark writing prompts for the cold winter days :) Number five is my favorite. I wrote a short story about it once. Which one is your favorite?
In a world where emotions are harvested as a powerful energy source, a secret society emerges, exploiting the pain and suffering of individuals to fuel their dark ambitions.
A mysterious antique mirror appears in an old, abandoned house. Anyone who gazes into it experiences glimpses of their worst fears coming to life. What happens when the mirror falls into the wrong hands?
In a dystopian future, a government experiment to control crime goes horribly wrong. Citizens start experiencing their darkest impulses as physical manifestations, leading to chaos and destruction.
A cursed town is shrouded in perpetual darkness, and every year, a single resident must willingly sacrifice themselves to lift the curse for a brief moment. This year, the chosen one has a secret that could change everything.
A talented artist discovers that their paintings have the power to alter reality. However, with each stroke of the brush, a piece of their soul is consumed, leaving them on the brink of madness.
A small community is plagued by a series of unexplainable events, each linked to a children's nursery rhyme. As the rhyme predicts the next tragedy, the townsfolk desperately try to break the curse before it claims them all.
A scientist creates a device that allows people to relive their happiest memories. However, as they delve deeper into the technology, they uncover a hidden layer of forgotten, traumatic experiences that could shatter lives.
In a post-apocalyptic world, survivors discover an underground bunker containing a mysterious machine that claims to offer a chance at resurrection. However, the price to bring someone back is the sacrifice of another life.
A cursed book is said to grant its reader unimaginable knowledge, but at the cost of their sanity. As a desperate scholar seeks its pages, they must confront the malevolent entity within that hungers for their mind.
A detective investigates a series of gruesome murders that seem to be connected by a chilling pattern. As they get closer to the truth, they realize the killer might be something otherworldly, feeding on the fear they instill in their victims.
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doumadono · 11 months
Text
Douma & period sex - headcanons
Warnings: smut Requested by: anonymous
MASTERLIST
Being with Douma means there are no limits, it means laying all the cards on the table, exposing every secret, confronting the ugly and harsh truth. In his presence, it feels like the world opens up, revealing new possibilities and unexplored territories. With Douma, there is a sense of daring and adventure, a willingness to dive deep into the unknown and embrace the rawness of life ♡
Due to his demonic nature, Douma possesses an exceptional sense of smell, enabling him to accurately detect when you're on your period
Douma has an insatiable desire to create chaos and revels in making messes. He finds pleasure in the sight of blood, whether it's on his own skin or yours. His ultimate satisfaction lies in leaving behind a trail of destruction, where stained and torn sheets serve as evidence of a job well done
In moments when your breasts feel more sensitive or tender, Douma offers gentle relief by softly kneading them for you
On a few occasions, Douma had the experience of possessing you during your period. The heightened wetness and warmth of your pussy seemed to intensify his pleasure, pushing him to the edge faster than ever before
In anticipation of your period, Douma exercises self-restraint by refraining from engaging in sex or masturbation during the preceding week. By doing so, he deliberately builds up desire and eagerly looks forward to indulging himself once your period begins
Douma finds immense pleasure in various aspects of intimacy, including the sensation of your warm walls enveloping his cock. The additional warmth during your period is particularly arousing to him, causing him to shudder with delight each time he fucks you missionary
He humorously compares himself to a tampon 😅
"You feel so fucking incredible, so damn good!" he exclaims, occasionally sinking his teeth into your shoulder, igniting a mix of pleasure and a hint of pain. You find yourself unable to contain your moans, as the sheets bunch up tightly in your hands, your thighs quivering from the powerful rhythm of his thrusts as he takes you doggy style
"Your warmth and tightness drive me insane," Douma grunts, running a hand through your hair before gripping it firmly, pulling it back as he gently bites along your neck. "You're so wet, just look at this beautiful mess," he exclaims, admiring the evidence of your desire and arousal mixed with your period blood dripping down your thighs on the sheets
"Oh, Douma! I'm going to cum!" you moan passionately, your voice echoing through the room as you bury your head into a pillow. "I can't hold on any longer! I wanna cum, baby! Please… Move, for fuck's sake!" you groan, lifting your head to glance back at the towering figure behind you
His hands grip your sides firmly, squeezing your plush flesh, causing him to suck in a sharp breath as he visibly trembles, his chest rising and falling with each movement. "If I move now, I'll reach my climax, and I don't want to do that just yet," he replies, his heated gaze fixed on you, intensifying the sensation as your walls involuntarily tighten around him. "Oh, fuck! There's an incredible amount of blood flowing from your cunt right now!" he exclaims, a hint of excitement in his voice as he withdraws his throbbing cock from your pussy
With a swift movement, he flips you over so that you once again lie on your back, ready for the next phase of your intimate encounter. Douma's tongue delves into your sensitive core, pressing firmly against your walls, while his thumb skillfully rubs circles over your clit - his sole purpose is to bring you pleasure. Douma has a remarkable knack for discovering all the spots on your body that drive you to the brink of madness
You find yourself gripping onto his silver hair again as your hips begin to buck uncontrollably. A whine escapes your lips when he eventually pulls away, leaving you feeling empty and yearning for more. Douma licks his lips and wipes his mouth, cleansing away the traces of your blood
Understanding the need to not keep you waiting, Douma swiftly substitutes his tongue with his throbbing cock, effortlessly sliding it inside you. "Oh, fuck, Y/N. You're dripping wet. My little, fucking lotus!"
Blushing at the sounds his thrusts produce, you raise your hips to meet his movements, biting your lip in a mix of pleasure and anticipation. As you do, you realize that your uterus is beginning to relax, a thought that brings a contented smile to your face
Douma spreads your legs slightly, creating a more comfortable position for smoother entry after he again withdraws. He hooks your legs around his waist, and with deliberate slowness, he pushes his cock inside you
"Fuck!" Douma's breath hitches as he releases himself inside you, panting heavily before collapsing beside you; your mixed cums dripping out of your abused pussy
Your body trembling with pleasure as you cling onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. The pain that once lingered has now completely dissipated, leaving you in a state of blissful satisfaction
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novlr · 7 days
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What is a good way to start a novel? (sentence frames)
Are you a creative writer struggling to get started on your next project? Do you find yourself staring at a blank page, unsure of where to begin? Fear not! Here are some sentence frames designed to inspire your creativity and help you generate story ideas.
Get to know your main character
[Character name] was not your typical [profession/role]; in fact, they…
Despite being [adjective], [character name] had always felt…
[Character name] had a secret, one that they had kept hidden for [time period]…
As [character name] looked out the window, they couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if…
[Character name] had always been drawn to [hobby/interest], but had never had the courage to pursue it until…
The day [character name] met [another character], everything changed…
Setting the scene
The town of [name] was known for its [unique characteristic], but beneath the surface…
In a world where [fantastical element] was commonplace, [character name] stood out because…
The [building/location] had stood abandoned for [time period], but on this particular night there was [an event]…
The [place/location] was famed for its [unique characteristic], but [character] found themselves drawn to [thing]…
Introduce conflict
[Character name] had always believed that [belief], until [event] forced them to question everything.
When [character name] discovered [secret/revelation], they knew they had to…
The arrival of [character/object] in [setting] threw [character name]’s life into chaos, as they…
[Character name] had always been content with their [status quo], but when [event] occurred, they realised that they could no longer ignore their true calling.
The arrival of [character name] in [place/location] set off a chain of events that would uncover long-buried secrets and force the [people of location] to confront their darkest demons.
Show character growth
[Character name] had spent their entire life [doing/believing something], but now they began to wonder if…
As [event] unfolded, [character name] realised that they were capable of…
[Character name] had always been afraid of [fear], but in the face of [challenge], they discovered…
[Character name] used to [old behaviour], but now they [new behaviour]…
As [character name] faced [challenge], they discovered a [new strength/quality] within themselves…
[Character name] never thought they could [achievement], but with [catalyst], they learned to [lesson]…
Create suspense and mystery
[Character name] knew that [mystery/secret] held the key to [goal], but the closer they got to the truth…
As [character name] delved deeper into [investigation/quest], they began to suspect that…
The [object/clue] seemed insignificant at first, but as [character name] examined it more closely, they saw [detail].
[Character name] had a nagging feeling that something was off about [person/place/thing], but couldn’t quite put their finger on it until [event].
The [sound/smell/sight] was hauntingly familiar to [character name], but they couldn’t remember why until [event].
Explore character relationships
[Character name] had always looked up to [other character], but now they began to see them in a different light because [event/change].
Despite their differences, [character name] and [other character] found themselves drawn to each other because of [detail].
[Character name] knew that [other character] was hiding something, but they never expected [revelation].
[Character name] and [other character] were once inseparable, but [change] meant they grew apart.
[Character name] never expected to find a friend in [other character], but [character detail/event/location] brought them together.
[Character name] couldn’t shake the feeling that [other character] was hiding [secret] from them.
Remember, these sentence frames are just a starting point to help you generate ideas and get your creative juices flowing. Feel free to adapt, combine, or expand upon them to suit your unique story and writing style. The most important thing is to let your imagination run wild and enjoy the process of writing your novel!
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cxsmiicc · 6 months
Text
fucking florida - emily prentiss x reader
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word count - 1950
warnings - smut, eating out, vibe, office sex, alcohol, mommy kink, begging
first em fic so sorry if it sucks
cr @storiesofsvu for the vegas line i read a dangerous game all in one sitting the other night and it was stuck in my brain
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“Fucking Florida,” you muttered on the way to the coffee machine for your third cup of the night. It was already after twelve and the mountain of paperwork didn’t seem to be getting any smaller. You began the permanent battle to get the ancient machine running and picked out a mug, savouring every second away from the towering files and microscopic print. Almost immediately after the overwhelmingly strong scent whipped through the bullpen a certain unit chief emerged from her office, silver hair dragged back into a haphazard ponytail and top three buttons undone. To say you were obsessed with this woman would be an understatement. Yes, she was your boss and yes, she was majorly off limits, but there was no telling your body that. There was no helping the shiver that ran down your spine when she spoke, the goosebumps that revealed themselves whenever she brushed against you on the jet, the way every little hair on your body would stand on end when she singled you out. In short, you had it bad for Emily Prentiss, with no end in sight.
“Didn’t know anyone else was still here,” she drawled.
“Everyone sane went home hours ago.”
“And who can blame them, look at us. Relying on far too much caffeine just to get us through the paperwork.”
“When in Quantico,” you said with a small smile.
She laughed slightly, picking up the coffee pot and pouring two mugs, “It’s too late for your bad jokes.”
“You’ll have to excuse my lack of comedic genius, I'm exhausted and working on an empty stomach,” you replied, taking one of the mugs from her.
“What! Why?” She asked.
“I’m not a breakfast person to begin with and then with all the chaos this morning and the flight and the paperwork I just haven’t had the time to breathe.”
“I just ordered food, you’re having some of it.”
“Where did you order from this late?” 
She chuckled, “A lady never kisses and tells.”
God you wished she would kiss you. You simply raised an eyebrow and took a sip of your coffee in response.
“It’ll be delivered to my office soon, grab a file and come wait.”
“Exactly what I’ve been craving, yet more blindingly dull reports,” you deadpanned, already heading back to your desk to sweep the top folder into your waiting bag and follow Emily to her office.
Of course you had been in there before, but never so late and never for an extended period of time. It was different, strangely exhilarating, walking through that door and being directed to the low table in the corner, sitting on the carpet and working this closely to another person. The two of you typed in comfortable silence until a knock came and a sheepish college student walked in with a huge brown paper bag.
“Finally, thanks so much,” Emily said to the poor boy, handing him the cash.
“Quick, move the case notes. Just dump them under the table for now.” You did so, pulling them all into a rough pile and quite literally dumping them on the floor under the table. She wasted no time in delving into the enormous bag, pulling out a burger, two boxes of fries and the biggest soda you had ever seen in your life.
“Good job I was hungry,” she joked.
“Fries.” You reached over and snagged a box, grease seeping through the bottom and onto your fingers before you even opened it. “Oh my god that’s good,” you said around a mouthful.
“I have an idea..” She swerved around the table, snatching a fry on the way and walked right out of the room. A minute later she came back in, bottle in hand.
“Rossi’s finest I presume?”
“Only the best for you,” She finished with a devilish grin.
“Glasses?”
“On ne fait que commencer.” And she took a sip straight from the bottle.
Fucking French. You reached over and stole the whisky from her, upending it and barely blinking when the amber liquid hit your throat. 
“Someone has a tragic backstory just waiting to be unlocked.”
“The years of greasy food and crushing loneliness have numbed me to the mundane sensations of everyday life.” 
“Preaching to the choir honey.” She raised the burger to her mouth and took a bite, sighing in content as she did.
The two of you kept eating in not quite silence, the crunching of fries and occasional clinking of the bottle providing the nights soundtrack. Only once all the food had gone and you were both sufficiently tipsy did you come up for air.
“Remind me to tell you I'm starving more often, this is the best time I've had in this building to date.”
“Anything to make some half decent memories in this place, all the bad we see deserves a little alcohol and fast food every now and then.”
“I know something you could do to make this memory more than half decent,” you muttered.
“Oh? Now what, pray tell, could that be?” She feigned confusion and came to sit on your side of the table, resting her head in one hand and looking up at you through her lashes.
“Fuck it.” Both of you leaned in at the same time, lips crashing together and a breathless gasp escaping from you, her hands drifting to your waist and tugging you onto her lap. It was desperate and clumsy and everything you expected it to be, everything you needed it to be. Her tongue pried your lips apart as you explored each others mouths, too desperate for contact to bother with technique. You fumbled with her buttons and she smiled against your mouth, breaking the kiss to pull your shirt over your head and undo the few buttons of her own that you had been unable to access. Breathing hard, you pushed yourself off of her and sat on the table, legs wide and one hand splayed behind you for balance, admiring the view in front of you. Not every day the unit chief of the BAU was shirtless in front of you after all.
Reaching for your belt, she asked, “Can I?”
“God yes.”
She made quick work of both the belt and your jeans, tossing them aside before slowly pulling your underwear all the way down and dropping it, slipping both hands between your thighs and slowly separating them. Lowering her face, she met your eyes and slowly kissed a teasing path from your inner thigh to your clit, stopping just before she made contact. You let out a whimper, already soaked for her.
“Desperate, are we?”
“Less talk more tongue,” You demanded.
Luckily for you, she obliged, wasting no time in wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking hard, dragging a savage groan from the base of your throat. Loosening her hold on your clit, she focused her attention lower down, flicking her tongue briefly in and out before delivering a broad lick to your cunt, finally setting for alternating between the two motions whenever your moans peaked in volume. Bringing her hands into the mix, she drew slow circles around your clit, successfully driving you to the edge as your breathing became faster and faster, the only coherent word coming from your lips being her name over and over in an increasingly high pitch. Her relentless pace never slowed, even as you finally came with a breathy gasp, fucking you through your high.
Dropping back down onto her heels, she smiled at you before reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra, throwing the purple fabric to the corner before grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you back into her lap for another searing kiss, easily parting your lips this time and taking full advantage of your post-orgasmic confusion. The haze clearing somewhat, you became aware enough to dive your hands downwards and play with her chest, flicking her nipples between your fingers and relishing in the soft whimpers falling into your mouth. It was you that pulled away this time, taking one of her breasts into your mouth and swirling your tongue around, eliciting a delicious moan from Emily. You bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, and she let out a squeal of pleasure, pushing you to do more.
Switching your focus to the other side, you repeated the movements, teeth pressing into her soft skin as your tongue worked overtime. Just as she released a particularly loud moan, your fingers forced their way into her waistband and found her clit, jerking it back and forth to the same pace your other hand was setting on the side of her chest not currently in your mouth. She was a mess, to put it nicely, grinding on your hand in a desperate attempt to get herself there. Feeling just how wet she was, you decided to forego any teasing and simply go faster, push her harder, anything to get her over that edge. Twisting your wrist for better access, you pushed both your fingers and tongue to the same brutal speed, stirring raw sounds from the woman above you as she peaked, ruining her formerly perfect suit trousers once and for all. 
Wordlessly, she pushed you off again and crossed to the desk, rummaging in a drawer until she came up with a small silver key. Bending down to where you couldn’t see, she fitted the key in the lock of her bottom drawer and yanked it open, retrieving something without bothering to close the drawer behind her as she walked back towards you, hands behind her back so as not to reveal what she had. The second she was close enough you stood and grabbed her trousers by either hip, meeting her eyes as you removed them. 
“So what is it that you keep locked away in that desk of yours?” You asked.
In response, she smirked and lifted up a bubblegum pink vibrator.
“Let’s see just how many more we can get out of you tonight sweetheart.”
She flipped you around and forced you onto the desk, pushing your legs apart as you whimpered in anticipation. Laughing at your eagerness, she pushed the toy into you, flicking at your clit as she turned it on at the lowest setting and you let out a groan. 
You glared at her. “More.”
“Manners, or mommy won’t do a single thing more. Besides, I bet you look so pretty begging for it.”
Breath hitching at her words, you felt the vibrator slip as you grew wetter, reaching to push it back in only for Emily to grab your wrist. 
“Please…” You muttered.
“I know you can do better than that baby, now come on, tell me what you want.”
“Please mommy please turn it up I need more god just please.”
“Since you asked so nicely…” She trailed off, pausing for a second before pushing the vibrator deeper into you and setting it to max, pulling a guttural gasp from the recesses of your throat.
“That's it princess, let me hear you.”
You held nothing back, letting her tear sounds from you that you didn’t even know you were capable of making for hours until you were both spent, collapsed on the office floor as the first threads of sunlight came through the blinds.
“Fuck Em it’s getting light outside.”
“Shit.”
The room was a blur of motion as both of you hunted for your clothes, her sighing when she saw the state of her trousers and rummaging through her go bag for a fresher pair. 
“Anyone finds out about this and we’re both royally fucked, capisce?”
You beamed at her. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
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poetictarot · 1 month
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☆ What must you understand right now?
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When we are in need of guidance, we almost always already have the answers we need. But we tend to hold back from trusting ourselves. In this tarot reading, I delve into what you already understand right now, and how this may help with what you must understand right now. Choose the photo that appeals to you first—or the most—then scroll down to the corresponding reading ☆
[ ☆ Pile 01 ]
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Currently you understand what it means to surrender. You have come to learn that what it means to radically detach from unnecessary burdens is to step away from what does not nourish you. You could be stepping away from toxic and addictive habits, realizing how they have been trapping you more than you realize. You were bound by the false notions of clarity because of them; bound by false notions of ease. These false notions came a from a deep place of inner criticism that you no longer want to consume you. You understand what it means to come from a clean slate, what it means to lead a healthier body-mind-soul, and what it takes to recover from a place of dread and despair. You are in a state of healing as an act of surrender, release, and purging. You're setting down your baggage so you can finally breathe.
What you must understand then, is how to sustain your inner self. Part of inner sustainability means protecting your peace, setting clear boundaries, and valuing the abundance of what one already has. You’re already in the first few stages of this, with the understanding of surrender. But the process of healing is not as linear or as clear as it seems. There are times when the threats return, most likely when you least expect it and also when you are most vulnerable to it. Things always arrive in due time, and one is not always fully protected in the face of it. Nature as well, will often swell and radiate with or without us. Come to understand the act of receiving and returning as a gift of the world and of life. Build, cultivate, and maintain the kind of inner space that withstands the test of time.
[ ☆ Pile 02 ]
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You currently understand what inner balance means. Inner balance is a rational process—it involves making the decisions that best suit your overall needs and circumstances. Balance is not perfection—if anything it is the distinct choices made in the midst of chaos that even things out. It is an overall equalization. It is a making sense of things, and then deciding from there what you are capable of. Things begin to fall apart into place, and you are more decisive than ever. It is most exhilarating to know exactly what to do. There may be anxieties, there may be fears, but they do not consume you when they are for the most part unnecessary. You have an idea of what to do next, and frankly this feels like it is free will utilized at its best.
What you must understand then, is how the balancing act leads to transformation. Think about the law of conservation of mass. Energy is not created nor destroyed, only transferred—you move and it leads to the next move. You just have to decide what your next move is. At this point in time, you are incredibly capable of creative productivity. Commitment, decisiveness, and rigor—these are the hidden factors needed to make something, and make it well. You have what it takes to finish strong.
[ ☆ Pile 03 ]
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Right now you understand what it means to hold onto what matters to you. You understand what it means to embrace life and the world, and you accept it all with open arms. You have not let go of the spirit, the soul, of what nourishes you the most. But human arms can only hold so much. There are residual burdens that are holding you back from realizing the potential of your heart. The time has come to open your heart to the ceiling, to the sky. Share what you cherish, the generosity will fulfill you like nothing else. You have an affection that when it opens itself up to the world it creates possibilities, opportunities, and good fortune.
You must begin to understand that there are people out there who will embrace and release affection the same way that you do. As Maddie Dragsbaek expresses it, the love one wants exists because they exist. It is about time you learnt to love again, to give up the burden, to let someone keep you company, speak kind words to you, and help alongside you. But this is only possible if you release your soul and your heart to the world. The more you allow yourself to unravel, to unfurl—the more the right people will arrive and see you for who you are without judgement or disdain. You will be met for who you are with eyes of kindness. So, set yourself free from your own judgement. The time has come for you to be loved.
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chiriwritesstuff · 3 months
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The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
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The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!
Word Count: 4.4K
A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!
#MCG ADMIN 50 members Sarah (HR) Good morning, Team! I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon! Tommy  Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦 Frank (Interior Design) Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day. Connie (Reception) It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪 Frank (Interior Design) Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT? Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay! Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 Sarah (HR) Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail. Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such. Connie (Reception) Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it! Frank (Interior Design) Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend. Wait. Oops? (Sorry Connie 🤡) Bill (Civil) Frank! What do I have to do to get you to behave for once? Frank (Interior Design) Oh, I could think of a few ways... Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there? Sarah (HR) I don't get paid enough for this shit.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"
"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"
Tommy Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life- [He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.] ... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake!  [he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself] But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!
"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."
Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"
Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"
"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."
Frank Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah? Hi. I'm Frank.   Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know? [It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.] The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it?  [He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.
"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."
"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"
"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"
"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"
Connie Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot! [She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.] ... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean-  [she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.] Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges? 
"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."
"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"
Sarah You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime.   [Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.] Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?
"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.
"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.
... and then, all hell breaks loose.  
Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"
"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"
Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"
Henry Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell? [He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.] Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do? Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?
"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"
"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"
"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"
"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"
"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.
"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.
"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"  
Tess [She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.] I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules.   [She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.] This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in— [She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]
"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"
Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.  
"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."
Frank [Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.] Yeah, she's toast.
The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.
Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"
"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"
"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"
Joel and Sugar [Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.] There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay? Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect— [His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.] I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake! [You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.] Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you. [Joel nods.] Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say?   Feeling yourself? [Joel nods again, smiling at you.] Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later- Chaos. The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office! Wait, what? [Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.] Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?
"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"
Ellie  [at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.] Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence.   [she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.] Thanks a lot, asshole!
"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!" 
The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.
"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.
He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.  
Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.  
Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.
"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.  
Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"
You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"
He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"
Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath. 
"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.  
"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.  
"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.  
"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."
You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."
Bill Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive.   [He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.] Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons.   [Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more] So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks.   [He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.] As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well- [he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]
Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @gwendibleywrites @brittmb115 @joeldjarin @drewharrisonwriter
@littlebunnybigheartfics @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @quicax3 @casa-boiardi
@amyispxnk @untamedheart81 @paleidiot @laurrrra @la-vie-est-une-fleur29
@bbiophiliaa @thewiigers (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)
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akutasoda · 24 days
Note
Hello hello!!! Congrats in reaching 1k followers!!!! I've always enjoyed your writing so I'm not surprised you'd get 1k!
For the event could I request Jing Yuan and Dan Heng catching an anxious!reader singing for the first time? Maybe they catch reader softly serenading both of them while assuming the two were asleep. (Jing Yuan x reader x Dan Heng)
thank you :)
🍵 nonnie
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silent melodies
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synopsis - you start seranding them at a long awaited reunion, unaware they hear you
includes - dan heng + jing yuan
warnings - gn!reader, reader is a long life species?, angst, bittersweet angst, comfort/fluff, wc - 825
a/n: thank you!! <3
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dan heng would only have one reason to step foot back on the luofu, to brave what awaited him and that would be to see you again - jing yuan would be there too but mainly you. so when the express took to the luofu he really did want to join them but he knew a much harsher fate awaited him if he ever saw him again, but all he could think about in his stay on the express was you. even if he wasn't the one you fell in love with.
it was a compromise really. during the life of imbibitor lunae, he had become absolutely head over heels for you, the long life species that he wanted by his side until it was his time to be reborn. however he had a slight competition with his fellow quintet member who was also vying for your attention. it seemed more than reasonable for him and jing yuan to come to some sort of agreement, even just letting you choose your lover, but they were both too smitten to even fathom the idea of willingly giving you up.
ultimately, they planned to do the reasonable option and leave the decision to you and you alone but you were a bit indecisive and asled for some time to mull it over. eventually you informed them that you simply couldn't pick and that's when jing yuan announced that he wouldn't mind sharing you with imbibitor lunae if you didn't mind yourself - after all it was your decision at the end of the day. you did feel quite 'put on the spot' and you're nerves were starting to kick in but you agreed.
it seemed that was the right decision. it had merely been a week of your relationship with the two of them before it all delved into chaos and heartbreak. imbibitor lunae made a stupid decision in the grief of his friend and willingly would accept the consequences, he just wanted to see you one last time. you never visited him in the shackling prison, he understood and came to terms with it - even when he was forcefully reborn he didn't expect you to visit him and his only solace came from jing yuan who would inform him of how you were doing.
you had stayed with jing yuan ever since and now the express was docked at the luofu, dan heng couldn't help bit indulge himself and see the two of you. he wasn't imbibitor lunae. he wasn't your lover nor a friend but he hoped that you'd allow him a moment of peace, a moment to see how you were fairing after all these years. it was no surprise that he found you in a more isolated spot on the luofu - especially since he could faintly remember a place like this in his dreams. and there he could find you with jing yuan.
it was a bittersweet reunion, if it could even be called that. jing yuan showed some friendly intentions but he knew who it wasn't, and would soon return to his place were his head rested on your shoulder so he could rest once again. you didn't care that it wasn't imbibitor lunae, you knew this would be the closest chance you had to seeing him and this opportunity wouldn't escape. dan heng was rather pleased to know you hadn't changed much and he could practically feel a weight lifting from his chest just by being in your presence, he could also feel the lack of sleep overcome him.
soon enough you had your lover and your other lover's reincarnation rested comfortably by your side. for a moment you could convince yourself that nothing had happened, nobody had gotten exiled and no relationships were destroyed. in this fleeting moment you could cast aside your hesitations to start humming a small tune, you always had the habit of doing so back in the day when you were absolutely certain they were both asleep - you weren't exactly confident with your skills. you could easily lose yourself in the moment and finally be able to really imagine that this was how it used to be.
that would be up until jing yuan woke from his brief slumber to you serenading the both of them. immediately, you stopped and tried hiding your face in embarrassment at being caught serenading them only for jing yuan to stop you. the small commotion managed to drag dan heng out of the first peaceful sleep he had in ages and he was immediately informed by jing yuan that you had been serenading them - your hands flew up to your face in pure embarrassment as jing yuan chucked softly beside you. dan heng melted slightly at the pure idea that you still harboured something to him even if it wasn't him. maybe just maybe he could drop the pretences and enjoy his time with you and jing yuan.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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archonsabyss · 4 months
Text
╰─..✶. [ Impetuous Bonds ]
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❒ pairing: al haitham x fem!reader [ft platonic bff wriothesley]
❒ genre: fluff! action!
❒ warnings: minor violence!
❒ wc: 5.6k
─❒ authors note: did you know I've been working on this fic since october 4th. It's been rough but the year's over thank god. on the other note, let me officially introduce my wriothesley and al haitham as besties brain rot. and yes I have plans to expand on this brain rot. atlst 2 more ideas which I'll start on as soon as the spark hits again 💐
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Amid your contrasting personalities was a semblance of shared interests woven together by a single thread. You, one and the same possessed a deep love for reading, discovering solace in the scripted ink, where letters blended to form words, weaving pathways to realms of boundless creativity. Whether it delved into knowledge, seeking escape, or simply enjoying the thrill of fiction, this mutual passion became a bridge of understanding between you despite your glaring differences.
A sense of harmony prevailed in your relationship which created a captivating paradox that intrigued those around you. People marvelled at the depth of your connection, questioning how two individuals so dissimilar could share such an intimate bond. Some attributed it to the age-old saying that opposites attract, believing it to be fate's handiwork—a calm presence to counterbalance chaos, a soothing embrace against restlessness, and a tender heart to temper the directness of the wordsmith.
Alternatively, it could be argued that the similarities, subtle yet profound, were the secret ingredients of your relationship. A quiet demeanour and reserved nature concealed a dream-like love that left onlookers in both awe and envy. Your love story, tender and understated, defied expectations, leaving a trail of wonder and admiration in its wake. A love, true as an existence of pure gold, if such ethereal beauty could be acknowledged.
To you, what others deemed ordinary, was a world of its own. Normal acts of affection and simple gestures of intimacy felt like your beloved had gifted you the heavens and earth. Perhaps, the extent to which you elaborated on your connection with the acting grand sage felt akin to a tale spun from fantasy, a reverie you indulged in.
You considered that the romanticized nature of your love might have been obscured by the mist of infatuation, that the love you had for Al Haitham may have cast an enchanting illusion upon your reality. But it was okay when no harm or toxicity came from being tucked away in your little head, daydreaming about the man who had long proclaimed himself yours until the day he died.
As the early days of parading around with an unacknowledged crush, and the fledgling phase of your romance grew further in distance, you settled into a life different, happier yet marked by its trials.
You fell in step with each other, occasionally finding them offbeat or at entirely different paces, yet such is the essence of any relationship. Despite this, everything harmonized.
While you weren't a morning person, on rare occasions when sleep evaded you, you'd rise earlier than usual, and frequently, Al Haitham would already be awake. During those moments you would sit together in bed for a few minutes longer or have an early breakfast before the sun had fully ascended, relishing in the silence and warmth of each other's company, and today was one of those days.
While Al Haitham took a shower, you began preparing breakfast, knowing that your errands could only be attended to a bit later on.
Upon entering the kitchen, an aromatic veil of freshly brewed coffee gracefully filled the air, its enticing fragrance embracing Al Haitham as he sat down and reached for the coffee, finding it already thoughtfully poured into two cups, one from which you'd intermittently sipped on while engrossed in preparing food to sustain you for the first half of the day. Despite knowing its warmth had faded as you got lost in preparations, you were certain, albeit acknowledging its unhealthiness, that you'd have another cup once breakfast started. Meanwhile, Al Haitham had long eased into his seat at the island table, his hands cradling a mug, savouring the invigorating bitter heat of his coffee. His concentration remained unbroken as his eyes meticulously skimmed through the arranged stack of documents before him.
It was a simple and ordinary scene, but it was these moments shared that held such immense value.
You felt completely at ease as you moved about the kitchen, exuding the comfort of a face free from makeup, clad solely in the shirt Al Haitham discarded before bed, with your hair casually bundled in a tousled bun.
The kitchen bustled with the promise of breakfast, ingredients for pancakes and eggs scattered like confetti on the tables. In contrast to your relaxed appearance, your lover was impeccably dressed, looking incredibly handsome and sharp. For most of the time you had your back turned to him, unaware that Al Haitham couldn't help but steal glances between you and his papers.
A smirk played at the corner of his lips. Though his face remained composed, it was clear from the emotions in his eyes that he was utterly captivated by you— the subtle relaxation and absence of tension in his gaze spoke volumes.
Whenever you turned to face him, his attention would seamlessly shift back to his work, not out of shame for openly admiring his beloved, but because he understood that if your eyes locked, the temptation to whisk you back to bed would be irresistible.
"When will you join me" He mused after some time, lips hiding behind his cup of coffee as you scowled when one of the pancakes painfully flopped.
"As soon as your food is done" You mutter, sighing in relief when you flip the last pancake, turn off the stove, and turn around to set the plate of food before him.
Al Haitham's eyes lit up with deep gratitude behind the gilded frames of his glasses, glimmering with subdued enthusiasm, his smile a testament to the warmth of his appreciation as his fingers entwined with yours, gently pulling you around the counter and towards him.
With a soft kiss on your hand, he tilted his head, silently pleading for a kiss, his whispered "Thank you" lingering in the air as you leaned in, wishing to seal his gratitude with another kiss when you were startled by a sudden resounding crash reverberating through the house, signalling the forceful swing of the front door opening and closing.
You both turned your heads in the direction of the hallway and in sauntered Wriothesley who had been a guest in Sumeru as well as your home for the past week. He wore a nonchalant smile each time he visited, his hair artfully tousled, and his heavy boots thudding on the wooden floor.
Al Haitham often remarked, like clockwork, that Wriothesley would invite himself inside as if he was welcomed, which he was not by his words, but by your prior blessing to enter whenever he pleased.
Al Haitham let out an audible grumble, his smile fading as Wriothesley's smile grew, begrudgingly turning his attention to his meal, expressing his discontent in silence. You planted a kiss on his cheek and gently pulled away, a move he anticipated, evident from the disapproving glare he directed at his plate while he continued eating.
"Good morning, Wriothesley." You cheerfully greeted, just as you have every time he's made his unannounced─ yet expected entrance.
"I've just brewed a fresh pot of tea for you," You stated proudly, already taking out a cup and pouring the piping hot amber liquid in.
In response, your distinguished guest's grin widens a touch as he offers his thanks and comfortably takes a seat beside Al Haitham.
"When do you plan on returning home? I reckon your presence there is considerably valued─ necessary if you prefer" Al Haitham inquired with a casual and composed demeanour, his tone direct and perhaps a bit blunt, though neither you nor Wriothesley takes offence as you've grown accustomed to his straightforwardness.
With a playful gleam in his eyes, he opted to provoke a reaction by disregarding Al Haitham and answering you instead, "Figured you'd feed me"
"Mind your manners," Al Haitham chimes in flatly, taking a sip of his coffee while casting a sidelong glance at Wriothesley. "My wife's not here to serve you."
"Fiancée," Wriothesley corrects teasingly, his smile appreciative towards you as you set the plate before him and move on to the dishes, disregarding their banter.
Al Haitham's jaw tightened in annoyance at the correction. To him, it was merely a title, a formality. In less than a month you were set to officially become his wife, yet the significance of a ring and title paled in comparison to the deep connection he felt in his mind, heart, and soul from the very beginning. He was undeniably yours, just as you were undeniably his, and nothing could change that.
"Regardless, she's mine and has no obligation to serve you let alone feed you"
"It's not an obligation if she wants to do it" Wriothesley takes a sip of his tea, humming in contentment as the warm liquid touches his tongue and envelopes his throat, satisfied with your skills as always.
Al Haitham reluctantly admits to himself that Wriothesley is right, simply because he knows you. Over the years he has observed, comprehended, and admired you from distances far and near, he's learned almost everything there is to know about you, and your passion for cooking was one of them seeing as you've taken up the role of preparing the meals on most days.
Al Haitham has seen the way you revelled in the process of preparing meals with the mindset that your actions would fill the stomachs of those you loved dearly, even if there was the less enjoyable task of washing dishes afterwards, if it was for him, anything. To his misfortune, that anything extended to the male seated beside him as well.
You snuck a few glances between the two, restraining your amusement by biting your lip as you leaned over the counter and picked at the fruit bowls, knowing you were rarely able to stomach food this early in the morning without feeling nauseated.
"It's been a while since I've gotten to savour a meal made with love, let me enjoy this" Wriothesley smiles, savouring the mix of sugary sweet syrup that he licks off his lips.
"If you must, shut up and drink your tea" Al Haitham mumbles under his breath with an ever so small smile hinting at the corner of his lips, prompting an amused raised eyebrow from the onlooker.
"Why don't you shut up and drink your coffee so I can enjoy my tea then"
"You are insufferable"
"Do you think I'm insufferable?" Wriothesley directs at you, pursing his lips into a full pout just to annoy Al Haitham even more.
"No, Wrio. I think you're rather quite loveable" You said smiling as you leaned your forearms on Al Haitham's shoulders and placed your chin atop his head.
"See," He says smugly, "Loveable"
Al Haitham releases a deep breath, exhaling built-up frustrations, and gradually letting worries and tension fade away, he eases his shoulders, leaning back more into your embrace, while Wriothesley attempts to hide his smile upon witnessing it.
"Do you boys have any plans for the day?" You asked eventually. One of them shook his head and the other simply shrugged. "I have a few errands to run and seeing as you're both available, would you mind accompanying me?"
"That would depend" The grin returns to Wriothesley's pondering face, "I'll take my payment in the form of your baking" He decided, unfolding his arms and placing them flat on the countertop, but in doing so he receives a sharp nudge to his ankles from the tip of Al Haitham's shoe.
Wriothesley winces but doesn't retreat, he shrugs lazily before stating lastly with narrowed eyes directed at his dearest friend in emphasis, "I work enough as it is, Al Haitham. Being an errand boy has become more your thing, and besides, there's no way I'm going to pass up the chance of having your Mrs, bake for me"
Al Haitham pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe the forming ache.
You smile sweetly at Wriothesley, thanking him for the compliment just as Al Haitham rises from his seat, dishes in hand and a perpetually sullen and irritated expression etched on his face, wishing for the silence that has been disturbed.
🜙˚─ [˚ ⁀🕯️⟡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
Strolling through the streets of Sumeru to reach your destination, you took the time to observe the peculiar camaraderie between Al Haitham and Wriothesley as they walked a few steps ahead of you, lost in a world of their own, one with a scowl while the other engaged in conversation, seemingly unaware that he wasn't being heard by the former.
Al Haitham's composed and disinterested expression might deceive anyone into believing he wasn't attentive, and there was a chance his noise-cancelling earpieces were intentionally activated to avoid hearing the conversation, but as you observe him closely, you discerned that Al Haitham was indeed attentive, if not wholly absorbed in the Duke's ceaseless chatter.
It was to no one's business but his own, Al Haitham once said to you, for your ears alone, while seated by your dresser, observing you through the mirror as you loosened your corset and unbuttoned your white blouse, revealing skin just above your belly button.
In unspoken words, it was a confession where he admitted he acknowledged his friends more than he expressed. He admired Kaveh's profound passion for the arts and his unwavering stubbornness when they bickered, he also acknowledged with a hint of irritation, the blonde's imperfections and his excessive eagerness to please others through tireless efforts.
What Al Haitham harbours within himself is quite bothersome to his conscious, it is the fact that Kaveh withholds emotional fragility, a presumption he believes you're already aware of, but it does not change how he engages with the latter.
Al Haitham with all his knowledge hardly wishes to entangle himself in the inner turmoil of others, hence, he chooses to refrain from crossing a particular boundary, with Wriothesley on the other hand, presented a slightly more distinct scenario where he found his company rather tolerable if not likable, though he would never dare to articulate it.
Al Haitham turned from the dresser's mirror to face you, drawing you between his parted legs and resting his hands beneath your shirt on your bare hips, he lifted his eyes to meet yours before uttering a sentence you least expected that night before bed. "Would you accompany me to Fontaine?" No further explanation was necessary; you understood the spontaneous mention of a trip to Fontaine. With a wistful smile and a tender kiss on his forehead, you agreed.
The following week, you left for Fontaine to personally wish Wriothesley a Happy Birthday, offering him companionship in his solitude for as long as you could.
What became apparent during that period, was that witnessing Al Haitham being his authentic self wasn't a rare occurrence in Wriothesleys presence.
Wriothesley had a knack for bringing vibrancy to your partner, whether through a spirited debate, an unfriendly competition, or the fact that Al Haitham's eyes had never been more devoid of his usual contentment with a mundane life. This was a side of Al Haitham you've only ever caught brief glimpses of beyond the walls of your home.
The bond threaded through the viscosity of blood coursing within their veins, knowing to most it was nothing more than a misinterpretation of their characters by the way they argued with their teeth bared and claws extended. They appeared mostly harmless. You prayed it would never escalate to physical tests of strength. A chuckle is prompted by the thought, returning you to the ongoing reality of Al Haitham and Wriothesley embroiled once more in their unending dispute.
"I don't see the need for you to be hovering," Al Haitham said. "If I wanted your company I would have asked, which in case you haven't gotten the jest by now, I don't really want"
"Al Haitham!"
Your partner's ears react to the cautionary tone in your voice, and swiftly, his head turns towards you. His eyes widen with innocence, and his demeanour dissolves, resembling a deer caught in headlights. The ongoing argument fades into oblivion, and even Wriothesley's presence is nearly erased as he shifts his focus entirely towards you.
"What?" He asked, oblivious to any issue with his earlier question.
"Could you go buy those spices you brought home last week? We've run out" It's not entirely untrue, but you simply crave a moment of peace from their conversation so you can hurry up the trip and return to the quiet solitude of your home and the warmth of your blankets, and considering Al Haitham is more responsive to your requests, you cleverly recall the need for spice and ask him to handle that quick errand while you wrap up the rest of your grocery shopping.
"Mhm," He murmured, exhaling deeply, placing a slow kiss on your cheek before moving on, going along with your tactic to separate him from Wriothesley who watches in amused bewilderment, hands placed at the top of his hips, "And here I thought I was a dog. You've got a good leash on him. Keep it that way"
"You should stop instigating him," You tell him, amusement glinting in your eyes and tugging on your lips, walking on. Leaving Wriothesley to follow along at his leisure.
"This is my sign to run along"
"Where are you going?" You tilt your head back to glance at him.
"I just remembered something, I'll be back in a bit, promise" In the blink of an eye, he vanishes, leaving you to continue on your way. When you finally reach the bustling Grand Bazaar, vibrant with crowds, you roam the markets and stalls, finding yourself engaged in conversation with Afshin, the travelling merchant, when your attention is abruptly diverted by a sudden commotion.
Across from you, a female merchant had fallen prey to a disgruntled customer, likely the source of the chaos unfolding. A table overturned, boxes strewn across the floor, their contents spilled and some irreparably damaged.
The young woman in her early twenties who stood ownership of the stall, gazed at her belongings before sinking to her knees, attempting to salvage the disarray.
Meanwhile, the customer and what you presumed to be his mercenary guards, hurled disparaging comments about the perceived inadequacy of her trade, their hands clasping the hilts of their swords as though perceiving the young woman as a clear threat.
A sigh escaped you, heart pounding with anxiety as you observed the unfolding scene.
"Give me a moment," You said, Afshin nodded in response, resuming the task of organizing the items on his table.
"Excuse me" Walking towards the occurring scene, you hesitantly intervened, drawing the glaring eyes of the customer towards you.
"This doesn't concern you. Take your nosiness elsewhere woman" He snarled in a manner that made you step back, nevertheless, you stood your ground and faced the Female merchant, offering her a reassuring smile.
"What's your name, dear?"
"Aniya"
"Aniya, what seems to be the problem?" You inquired, assessing the tables and the contents occupying them.
"This man claims my merchandise is not authentic after he has already inspected, bought, and paid for several pieces. Now he asks for a refund without returning the products"
"Look, I don't want no trouble lady" He exclaims, barely standing firm on his short stubby legs. "But if you just give me my money back I'll be on my way"
"What of my labour?! I've spent a good worth of time exploring and producing each of those carpets and materials by hand! You won't find such quality elsewhere for as cheap of a price as I've given!"
His face scrunched in anger, his guards stepping forward with a subtle signal. "If we can't reach an agreement you will pay the price"
"We won't come to an agreement if you refuse to settle your greed" You stated calmly.
The anger that exuded off him was not by any means intimidating, but the mercenaries that stepped forward at the ready, made you cautious.
The tension of the situation gradually grew and you were bordering on a violent reaction, that much you could easily tell given you've been a front-row witness to past events with both Al Haitham and Wriothesley.
As you feel yourself growing anxious, you positioned yourself protectively in front of Aniya, who, though a few years younger, was brimming with unrefined passion and working diligently. The youthful intensity in her gaze spelled trouble, yet it reflected such bravery and boldness altogether, truly embodying the spirit of a genuine merchant, and though it was admirable, it also meant there was no escaping the situation if the fiery spirit possessing her had any influence.
You breathed in steadily, gathering your hyperventilating thoughts and acknowledging your helplessness with Wriothesley and Al Haitham absent. Neither you nor Aniya were fully equipped for a direct physical confrontation, but perhaps, if you could stall them long enough, the result might not be excessively dire. The wisest choice now was to prevent provoking the man to the point that he sends those gruelling tattered mercenaries your way.
The argument─ though you wish not to call it that given you hoped to subdue the situation before it escalated, but with the feistiness of the young Merchant Aniya and the highly obnoxious and demanding customer by the distasteful name of Afif, nothing was going as planned.
Afif was a lord spoiled and rotten in both name and character. By nature, his manner of approach was enough to make your skin crawl and your throat tighten. You wonder who awaits him at home and how they endure such a man throughout their lives, considering you can hardly tolerate his attitude for even a few minutes.
They went back and forth without resolution, and each passing minute had regret swirling hefty within your conscience as neither of them backed down, the mercenaries themselves were growing antsy. With every breeze tousling your hair, it seemed like a word uttered by Afif left you feeling even more frustrated. He simply carried on spouting his nonsense of fair trade─ exposing himself as a hypocrite who disregarded the fundamental principles of fair trade.
In your mind, a silent prayer echoed, hoping for the return of either Al Haitham or Wriothesley.
These kinds of situations were precisely what you aimed to avoid, but your compassion couldn't tolerate witnessing Aniya's mistreatment, and unfortunately, because of it you landed yourself in such a predicament you could neither talk your way out nor pathetically apologize and walk away.
Meanwhile, Al Haitham was en route to the Bazaar when he coincidentally encountered Wriothesley who happened to be returning from his quick errand.
"Where'd you go" Al Haitham asked with a raised brow, causing the dark-haired Duke to pause and turn around, waiting for Al Haitham to catch up before continuing, now with him at his side.
"Look how you contradict yourself Haitham, went from claiming I was hovering to questioning my absence. Such a sweetheart─ truly" He flashed a lazy grin, revealing the pointed tips of his fangs that grazed his bottom lip.
"If you must know, Tea" He wiggled the bag mid-air for Al Haitham to see.
"I felt compelled to ask, not that I care much at all"
"You care enough"
"Unfortunately" Al Haitham muttered with a roll of his eyes, flexing the fingers of his free hand that wasn't holding the pack of spices you had asked him to fetch.
Upon entering the Bazaar, Al Haitham abruptly ceased his argument with Wriothesley. He lapsed into silence as he paused and scanned the area, allowing for his senses to come back to him.
He alongside Wriothesley took in the situation surrounding you and the menacing bodies enclosing your safe space. The ambience was palpable even from his current position.
Wriothesley glanced at Al Haitham who had already begun to pick up his pace and he followed suit.
If given the opportunity, Al Haitham would steer clear of any sort of situation that compelled him into social confrontations. He cherished solitude, finding no necessity for social interaction unless absolutely unavoidable.
He was a man of simplicity, content in silence until he met you, and suddenly, he found a liking for sharing that silence with you. In that regard, both of you shared a preference for confining yourselves within the familiar walls of home, avoiding expending energy on forced interactions.
Even when venturing outside, the dynamic persisted. Amidst a sea of people and bustling crowds, it was as if the world consisted solely of the two of you. Others might cast glances, but your attention remained fixed on the path ahead or each other.
Your ears seemed attuned exclusively to each other's voices, and your hands, not particularly fond of physical contact, found solace only in being held by one another.
But when Al Haitham caught sight of you standing there trying to convey strength through your expression, the subtle tremble in your fingers betrayed you and did not go unnoticed by him.
A cold chill ran down his spine and the sensation of blood draining from his body followed. With urgency, he briskly approached to be by your side, arriving just in time to see rough hands reaching out to seize you. Commotion and reactions stirred among the onlookers, who stood by passively, aggravating him further.
"There seems to be a problem here" Al Haitham intervened, his voice clear, monotone, and confident, arms hanging casually at his sides as he looms over the customer, whose posture shifts the moment he lays eyes on the unexpected presence of the Acting Sage.
Al Haitham's arrival brings instant relief to your anxiously furrowed forehead and your tensed shoulders.
"Acting Grand Sage" Afif mumbles with a touch of trepidation, his once gruesome expression fading entirely.
The tallest among the three mercenaries scowls in response to the sudden intrusion, displaying no fear or concern for Al Haitham in his demeanour.
It's evident that he harbours a strong desire to pummel the interrupter through those demonic eyes glaring at your lover's head. Had it not been for Wriothesley who announces his presence to you by offering a reassuring nudge to your shoulder, you'd have redirected your cowering gaze to the ground.
Wriothesley leans casually against the wooden beam of the market tent, arms folded with a smug air as he watches Afif and his Entourage of folks masquerading as combatants.
Afif squirms under the intimidating aura of both Al Haitham and Wriothesley and attempts to shift the blame, trying to implicate Aniya for supposedly intending to mislead him in the trade, alleging that she was dishonest about her products, as is often the case in trade within Sumeru lately. In this instance, it was not. Aniya's honesty mirrored her ambition to rise as a respected merchant, firm and true.
Afif's initial efforts were futile, and as he came to this realization, fear gradually morphed into anger.
"I don't owe any of you an explanation, this is between me and that deceitful merchant wench" He spat, instructing his mercenaries to seize Aniya. However, their unscrupulous nature led them to reach for you as well, a decision that likely proved to be their gravest mistake.
Standing beside you, Wriothesley, under the Scribe's approving gaze, shrugged and uncrossed his arms, rolling his shoulders back as the mercenaries lunged forward with snarls.
He was mindful of the limited space and wary of endangering you or Aniya and therefore employed small, sharp, and precise movements. He swiftly evaded a punch from the towering mercenary, causing him to stumble forward in the aftermath of his failed attack. In that fleeting moment, Wriothesley seized the flailing arm of his adversary and firmly clamped his other hand onto his shoulder, twisting it behind his back and rendering him effectively immobilized.
With a vigorous push, he forced the vanquished mercenary to his knees, a disgruntled groan of pain echoed. Simultaneously, the second mercenary, driven by rage and fiery eyes, charged forward, only to be skillfully tripped and sent tumbling to the ground, nursing a bruised ego.
Wriothesley applied the weight of his sturdy boot on the back of the second assailant, forcing his face into the ground. Meanwhile, the first attacker was restrained by his hair, ensuring both remained motionless and incapable of causing further trouble.
"Care to help?" He directed at Al Haitham, paying no mind to the third mercenary who tightly clenched his blade, casting nervous glances between Wriothesley, who effortlessly subdued his fellow mercenaries, his employer, and the aloof scribe who stood in front of you protectively.
The onlookers stared in astonishment at the unfolding scene. Aniya, her mouth agape in amazement, beheld the renowned Duke of Fontaine standing before her very eyes, and besides you, Al Haitham, the esteemed Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru, portrayed a grand demeanour, often misunderstood. She observed his protective stance in front of you and it brought a small smile to her face, recognizing the subtle expressions of love in those gestures. She watched them in awe despite feeling guilt for the entire situation being a result of her actions.
"You appear to be managing quite well without me" Al Haitham replied with a raised brow.
"Leaving me to do all the work, I see" Cracking his neck, Wriothesley awaited the concluding blow from the sole remaining mercenary.
"Classifying it as 'work' would be a stretch," Al Haitham emphasized, "Three mercenaries hardly pose a challenge for you, Your Grace."
Releasing the two mercenaries he held, both now unconscious, Wriothesley did so just as the final adversary staggered forward on unsteady legs. True to Al Haitham's assertion, Wriothesley effortlessly subdued the remaining threat by gripping the front of his shirt and hoisting him off the ground.
"I feel like I'm third wheeling," You remarked.
"Nonsense, Wriothesley just talks a lot" Al Haitham brushed aside, moving past you in the direction of Afif, narrowing the brief gap between them. With the situation now in check, the only task left was tending to Afif before you could all proceed on your way.
"I'm sensing a bit tension though" You teased, nonetheless.
"Really?" Pipes Wriothesley over his shoulder, "On a scale of 10, how good is our chemistry?"
"Can you not entertain this, Wriothesley" Al Haitham looks at you, "And no, there is nothing of the sort nor will there ever be"
"Why not?"
"I am perfectly content with the relationship I'm in," He says, and simultaneously, a metallic clinking sound captures your attention.
You glance towards the source of the sound and find yourself pleasantly surprised. Wriothesley notices the shift in your gaze and follows your line of sight. Al Haitham had grabbed the dangling pair of handcuffs on his hip, right under his nose, and placed them on Afif's hands, all while everyone's attention was absorbed in listening to your conversation rather than observing him.
"What the─" Wriothesley muttered, his eyes wandering to the metal restraints encircling the discourteous customer's wrists. A moment later, upon realization setting in, he checked his side, only to realize with surprise that it was indeed his handcuffs.
"Keep up" The smugness in Al Haithams voice could be heard even without looking at him.
"Well shit buddy, good luck trying to get those off" Wriothesley blinks, expression flat as he stares at his handcuffs knowing the only means of removing them lies in a key only accessible to him – a key that resided in the drawer of his cluttered desk all the way in Fontaine.
"So.." Wriothesley trails off looking around, "What do we do with them now?"
"Let's have them pay a visit to the General Mahamatra, I'm certain he'd know just what to do with you"
"This has no connection to the Akakemiya. I haven't breached any rules concerning it and therefore you have no right to detain me like this! It goes against my rights."
Wriothesley chuckled, bending eye level with Afif. "Your rights have just been revoked, Lord"
"I beg to differ. Would you like a detailed account of all your criminal activities?" Al Haitham undoubtedly possesses more knowledge than he let's on. He's not bluffing, and you wonder what kind of leverage your fiancé has on this insignificant Lord for him submit and cower so quickly.
Leaning in to whisper, he says, "Wouldn't want the Akademiya catching wind of your illicit knowledge exchanges, would we? Or perhaps General Mahamatra is already on the lookout for you, Khada'i. Your nose is in everyone's business, and because of that, I'll ensure you're buried. Now then," he pats his shoulder. Sweat accumulates on Afif's—rather, Khada'i's—face under the pressure of Al Haitham's words. "Sit quietly and await your end."
"You two are enjoying this" You shift your weight to your right leg, hand on your hip.
"Not in the slightest," Denies Al Haitham, while simultaneously, Wriothesley questions, "What gives you that impression?"
Shaking your head, you dismiss the two as the guards lead away the identity-deceiving lord into proper custody. You turn to Aniya once more, and she showers you with endless gratitude for your help and assistance. She expresses concern about what might have happened if you hadn't been there, especially with Afif sending his mercenaries after her, fearing what may have become of the situation then had you not stepped in. The recent situation had drained you entirely of your energy and though Aniya offered to repay you in any way she could, you politely declined, desiring only to be on your way and depart from the public eye, wanting nothing more than to be home with a cup of coffee and your bed.
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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findafight · 8 months
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how do you think a Stobin body swap would go down? (any season/scenario/au you fancy)
definitely depends on era!
pre s1? Screaming. chaos. yelling and panic. Robin is having a crisis about somehow being in the body of her nemesis. Steve has no idea who he is and that is freaking him out.
post s1? same for robin, but Steve is like ahhhhh what the fuck? ok this sucks but at least I'm not dying? not the weirdest or scariest shit to happen to him. it's not a monster trying to kill him? so it's mostly fine. He should probably tell nancy though. Also robin is mad because she would absolutely blame steve lol.
post s2? (I'm not even going to delve into during a season really because. that complicates things so much.) depending on when, if steve's still beat up robin may take pity on his pathetic sadboy self. She'd also be pissed because now she has to deal with a concussion. Steve is like woah. heart: still broken. Life: getting weirder. Head: no longer concussed! should probably figure out how to not be in someone else's body though!
pre s3? hilarious. they're coworkers. robin blames steve for this. they are scooping ice cream. dustin's there and robin is like listen i am NOT your babysitter I am just in his body. look over there. do you think that's me? Robin? spinning the scooper? no. go to him with whatever you have.
post s3 they wake up and are like huh. hm. this is a pickle! and steve is like what a fucking second i am NOT going to highschool again!! that's the biggest issue they have. Robin says she's gonna make him look bad in front of babes. steve threatens to flunk robin. They barely question it though. very much a "ah. well. this makes sense. may as well happen" they want their bodies back but aren't particularly fussed about it.
at no point is gender an issue they stole that from each other a long time ago without realizing it.
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months
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700 Years - Part 2
Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 2K WC
Thank you to all who requested a part 2! :)
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Warnings: soft Astarion, depression, anxiety, misinterpretation of feelings, angst, reader reverting to old habits, drow twins (precious babies), slight mention of nudity, brief (and I mean BRIEF) steamy stuff, reassurance, fluff
Part 1
------------------
Astarion was right, adjusting to life outside of the hells was proving to be somewhat difficult. Everything had changed, advanced. You felt like a relic, lost in time. You clung to Astarion like a scared child for weeks. You proved to be an elite combatant, a force to truly be reckoned with. You felt your powers come back to you over time. You just wished your mind would catch up. Know that everything is ok. Know that you are your own. 
You often spend your nights at the lakeside. Throwing rocks into it every so often to watch the ripples glide over the water. You didn’t expect your feelings to come back so easily, and in full force. In hell, you just turned them off when you weren’t alone. Raphael broke you into complete submission. 
“Care for some company?” you heard Astarion say.
You shrugged wordlessly. Astarion noticed your mood declining since you got to camp. You were lost. He did his best to give you space and be there for you, knowing your road was tough, just as his was. You sat in silence for a while before he spoke again.
“I know you’re in great pain, little love, you need not hide it from me.” he scooted closer to you. 
You leaned against him, feeling exhausted. Defeated. “I never thought I was going to leave the hells. Now that I have… I’m trying but… I don’t know if I belong up here. Or down there. I’m not sure I belong anywhere.” your voice was full of sadness. 
Astarion’s arms engulfed you. You clung to him, holding his arms against your chest. “I’m completely alone in the world and I’m… frightened.” you cried into him. 
Astarion took your hands and stood you up, walking you into the shallows of the lake. “Do you ever watch the ripples in the water?” he asked.
You nodded watching as the water splashed around your legs causing the whole lake to ripple.
“See how they unsettle the whole lake, delving it into chaos that will go on until it is brought peace again.” he said, now standing completely still, the lake stilling with him.
“I don’t know if I can bring myself peace.” you looked at the moon's reflection as the water stilled.
Astarion “You can… in time…. Takes a lot of work. But… I’ve got you. I’ll be here for you, whenever you want me.” he said, carding his fingers through your hair causing you to let out a small sigh. 
You leaned back, giving him a small smile. You hesitated before softly kissing his cheek. He looked at you with slightly widened eyes. 
“You don’t have to do that…” Astarion said. He feared showing any intimate interest in you due to everything you had going on, and yet - his heart felt smothered in honey when he was with you. 
Your hand ghosted over where you kissed him, “I know.” you felt bashful. You loved being around Astarion but, as of late, your body grows warm when he is near. Your brain feels overloaded with the urge to kiss him, touch him, love him. Everything about him made you feel better. He made you wonder if you could ever love again, truly love. Everyday you grew more and more convinced. He taught you how to be on your own, not constantly needing him. But now, you just wanted him near always. His presence lighting up your world. 
---------------------
The Blushing Mermaid was loud, far louder than you anticipated. It made you wince. Watching men stumble around boorishly and women fawn over each other. It made you smile despite all the noise. Seeing people look happy after so long in a place of unhappiness, it made your heart feel full. Knowing there is always light in the dark. 
Astarion had left you in the corner of the room, trying not to overwhelm you. He told you he would only be gone a moment so you sat down and waited for him. The more time ticked on the more anxious you got. Independent or not, you were anxious like this before the hells. You looked around the patrons, spotting the pale elf at the bar top. 
Your heart felt uneasy when you looked closer. A beautiful drow woman had draped herself across Astarion. He was indulging her in conversation, even going as far to laugh with her. You couldn’t understand why you were feeling the way you were. Astarion was not yours. He was beautiful and free, just like you. He can choose who he gives his attention to. You tried to reason with yourself. All your brain could seem to logically conclude is that he didn’t want you because you had not lay with him. He was healed and could use his body for himself, and here you were. 
You quietly made your way through the crowd, tears falling despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. 
--------------------
Astarion wasn’t one to panic easily but right now, his resting heart rate would register as a panic attack. When he returned to your little corner, you were gone. You were without weapons and your armor was in your room when he checked for you back at the Elfsong. He wandered the busy streets of Baldur’s Gate for well over an hour now. He made his way to the Lower City. This area was dangerous before the Absolute and Steel Watchers. It was a cornucopia for crime of all breeds to run amuck.
Astarion sat on a barrel at the front of an alleyway. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face. He was frustrated but beyond that he was scared. You weren’t by any means fragile, but Astarion is the one who brought you out for the night, he felt a sense of responsibility for you and your safety in an unknown place. And now you were missing his worst fear. Astarion continued to wander the city deep into the night. He wandered in and out of taverns and shops trying to spot you. He made his way into Sharess’ Caress, following the twists and turns of the building. He used to hunt here… not for blood but for souls to bring Cazador. Astarion pushed the thought out of his head, refocusing his eyes and scanning the room. He saw a door cracked open in a dark hallway, a bit of light coating the opposite wall. Might as well check, he thought. Inside he found you curled up on a bed. Two similar looking drows sitting near you. The male drow draped a blanket over you; while the female drow gazed upon your face and gently traced your features. Astarion walked in slowly, the drows looking at him.
“So you’re him?” the woman said, a look of disgust gracing her devine features. 
“Pardon?” Astarion said, confused.
“The one they cry for.” spoke the male drow. 
“How did they get here?” Astarion asked, worried about the answer.
“They walked in, looked lost. We offered them our services but instead they broke down in tears. We thought it best to keep them some place safe lest someone try to take advantage. Baldur’s Gate is not as safe as it once was.” the woman answered.
The conversation was interrupted by you stirring in bed, eyes immediately meeting Astarion’s when they opened. You sat up quietly, the drows quickly excused themselves sensing the tension in the room.
Astarion sat next to you on the bed, “Why did you leave?” he asked, sounding slightly angrier than he meant to.
“I didn’t want to impede your evening.” you said sincerely, and yet a tinge of jealousy was there.
“What are you talking about?” Astarion asked with a huff.
“The drow at the tavern… you two looked… comfortable. I figured I would leave you to it and find my way back to Elfsong. Got a little lost but the twins were very kind to me.” you played with the edges of your sleeves, mumbling your response trying not to sound as pathetic as you felt. 
Astarion’s face relaxed with realization, “Darling… I knew that drow from when I was under his power. She would give me peace for a few hours in her room, leaving me to my books and whatever else I wanted to do away from Cazador. She was a good friend to me.”
You felt foolish. He’s not yours. It’s all you could hear. You held your hands over your ears trying to make it all stop. Century after century you felt so numb, and maybe you preferred it that way. This all felt… too much. 
You pulled Astarion to you, kissing him. This felt nice, you wanted this but you had to turn your brain off for what you had to do next. You wanted him to want you, so you took the only route you knew. You started trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, over his chest. While you pulled your shirt off Astarion looked at your face. Your eyes were vacant, like a shark. Your movements looked practiced and forced. You reached a hand to the laces of Astartions pants, his hand grabbing your wrist. You looked up at him with a blank face. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Can’t” was all he said, standing up and pacing the bedroom a bit. He laughed lightly before looking at you, “I could… but I won't.”
You hugged your shirt to your chest, eyes looking down feeling incredibly exposed. “Why not?”
Astarion kneeled in front of you so he could look into your eyes, his heart cracked seeing tears in them. “Because I know that look. I know you don’t truly want to have sex.”
You closed your eyes, tears flowing over silently. You held your shirt tighter, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.
Astarion’s face was covered with confusion. “Little love, what ever could you be sorry for?”
“That I can’t please you… like that… the way you want.” you shifted to quickly slide your shirt back on. 
Astartion breathed out a sigh, he gingerly took your hand, kissing the knuckles. “Darling we could never touch again and I’d still adore you.” he smoothed his thumbs over your knuckles before looking into your eyes. He saw doubt, caution even. 
“You are not in the hells, you never have to reduce yourself like this again. You do what you want with your body when you want to. Sex should be mutually pleasurable, and consensual the entire time. Not something you do because you think you should…. Whatever you’re comfortable with is where I will meet you.” Astarion kissed the tear on your cheek. 
You instinctively smiled at his kind gesture, knowing no expectations were held behind it. “I’m sorry I left… I want you, Astarion.” you said looking into his eyes, “I want you and it terrifies me. I just had to get away. I know you’re not mine but seeing you with… another. It planted this bitter seed inside me.” An understanding smile fell upon his face, his eyes big and doe like. 
“If it’s any consolation… I want you too.” it was your turn to look shocked, you placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Feeling out how the sensation made you feel, truly feel. 
“Was that ok?” he asked, caressing your wrist. 
You nodded, blushing, “I quite like that.” 
Astarion wrapped you in a feather light hug, waiting for you to return it which you instantly did. You two breathed each other in for a moment before Astarion leaned back.
“We should get back to the tavern.” he pecked your forehead. 
You hummed in agreement, following him through the city. Fingers laced together. 
“Can I stay with you?… I sleep better with you near.” you asked quietly when Astarion walked you to your room. 
Astarion smiled, “I’d have it no other way my sweet.”
Hello! I hope this is a good part 2! My first ever request, ahhhhh I feel so special. Thank you all for supporting my writing, it brings me great joy and comfort. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm, till next time darlings <3 xoxoxo!!
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Lovers Say Goodbye | 3 - B.Barnes
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Character: soft!dark Bucky x ex-girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky finds solace and love in an unexpected place, only to have his world shattered by a shocking revelation about the person he cared about.
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3, Chap 4, Chap 5 , -
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to read all your comments. Thank you once again.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
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A few Months Later
"I just realized," Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble transmitted through the earpiece.
"What is it?" Steve responded, concern lacing his words.
Bucky kept his eye focused on the target through the rifle scope. "She never spoke much about her family when we were together," he explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "Only brief mentions."
It was true. You'd never delved deep into your family life, only mentioning their retirement and love for world travel aboard cruise ships. Back then, Bucky had harbored anxieties about being accepted by your parents, worried they would disapprove of their relationship.
However, the truth's unveiling didn't erase the raw pain in his eyes. Instead, it sparked a chilling realization: you were equals. Both of you are masters of the deceptive game.
"Well, something must have smitten you good," Steve chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.
Bucky's response was devoid of humor. "Sex. Good sex."
"Hey!" Steve exclaimed through the earpiece. "No need to get graphic with me."
A phantom sensation washed over Bucky, a memory of your touch. He recalled the caress of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath against his neck, the intimacy of your body pressed against his. His mind fixated on a specific detail - the strength evident in your legs wrapped around his hips.
Bucky wondered, was the pleasure mutual? Did the experience hold the same significance for you, or was it just another masterful performance?
"Such a shame," he muttered, the bittersweet memory turning to ash in his mouth. "Good memories turned to ashes."
His words were cut short by the sharp crack of the rifle firing. Steve, observing the scene through a remote monitor, cheered. "Bullseye!" he exclaimed, the celebratory tone at odds with the gravity of the situation.
Taking lives was Bucky's expertise. His agency issued the order, and he executed it with unwavering precision, regardless of the complexity of the mission. Most targets were simply names and faces, strangers with no personal connection.
This time, however, the target was significant. He had become a pawn in Bucky's desperate game, a calculated move orchestrated solely to attract your attention. He had murdered an informant.
This time, the target was a high-ranking CIA informant, sacrificed solely to get your attention.
Steve warned, "This is a double-edged sword, Buck. They'll know your hand is in this, and they'll know it's personal."
Bucky's voice was cold and resolute. "That's the point. They'll know this is my work. They'll know it's personal."
He held firm to his belief that his reckless act, taking out the CIA informant, would draw you back. He envisioned them sending you to him, a twisted reunion of sorts.
However, reality unfolded differently. His agency commended him on a job well done, their client's debt to the agency now settled. This outcome was the polar opposite of his intended result.
Meanwhile, you remained oblivious to the chaos he'd unleashed across the miles.
You were deep within the isolated European country, laser-focused on rescuing the hostages. The news of the assassinated informant and the potential storm brewing back home hadn't reached you yet.
The adrenaline coursed through your veins, a familiar yet intoxicating sensation. Your mind buzzed with activity, fueled by the thrill of the unknown and the ever-present danger. This was the lifeblood you craved, the constant stimulation that had been absent during the past two years.
Flashback Start
Two years spent undercover in a war-torn country, posing as a florist. A stark contrast to the thrilling, high-octane missions you had always thrived on. But it had been necessary. The previous agents sent to infiltrate Bucky's life had all returned in body bags. You were the agency's last resort, their ace in the hole.
They had given you a mere 24 hours to transform yourself from seasoned operative to unassuming florist. The moment you saw Bucky step into your shop, everything you'd built, every practiced smile and fabricated story, teetered on the edge of collapse.
Your hand hovered near the concealed gun nestled beneath the counter, yet it remained unmoving. Something was different. The usual cacophony of the city seemed muted, replaced by an intense silence that amplified the sound of your own ragged breaths and the frantic thump of your heart. Bucky's eyes locked with yours, his gaze a stormy sea of conflicting emotions.
For a moment, the world held its breath. Time seemed to slow, stretching into an eternity where only the two of you existed. The air crackled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings, a potent mix of danger and something else, something you couldn't quite define.
Your mind whirred as Bucky approached the counter, requesting flowers for a funeral. You meticulously combed through your inventory, carefully selecting blooms that held the weight of grief and remembrance. The familiar scent of lilies and carnations filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
As Bucky wordlessly left the shop, the heavy bouquet cradled in his arms, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. You watched his broad, fearless shoulders slump as he headed towards the funeral, a lone figure burdened by sorrow. It was no ordinary funeral; you knew it was for his former handler, the man whose death had orchestrated everything – the death of Bucky's handler, Operation Pandora, and ultimately, your own undercover operation.
Initially, the CIA's instructions were simple: observe Bucky. They were aware of his safe houses near your flower shop, anticipating his return and potential request for employment. However, the agency and you, along with them, had never expected this turn of events.
Your new mission: to distract Bucky, to prevent him from digging into the death of his former handler. While you played your part, Director Brandon and a team of agents worked tirelessly to eliminate any trace of Operation Pandora. It was a meticulous process, ensuring absolute secrecy, hence the two-year duration.
When Brandon called and said, "It's finished," you left. Leaving behind the lingering whispers of a life that had become a carefully constructed facade, you didn't hesitate.
You lied when he asked if you regretted anything. Those two years with Bucky were a break, a rest from the usual danger. But it wasn't real because you were lying while he genuinely cared.
Flashback Ended
You wanted to forget everything, so you took a mission where you couldn't contact anyone. Your only job was to save hostages, which took time, planning, and working together. It was hard, and you got hurt, but finally, your team succeeded in saving all the hostages.
Months later, when you finally boarded the private jet for your return, you were surprised to find Director Brandon onboard. Usually, he remained at headquarters, awaiting reports of successful missions. His presence sent a tremor of apprehension through you.
Brandon gestured towards the seat across from him. "Sit down."
You complied, fastening your seatbelt as you settled in. "Why'd you come all the way here?" you inquired, a cold compress pressed against your right eye, the throbbing evidence of a recent punch.
The plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air before Brandon spoke, handing you a file. "You need to see this."
Your eyebrows shot up as you set down the ice pack. "Another mission?"
Brandon shook his head. "No. It's about the aftermath of... what we did."
Curiosity piqued, you flipped open the file. Your breath hitched as a photograph greeted you: Bucky, his face obscured by a mask, gun clutched in one hand, a hostage held captive in the other. You'd never witnessed such raw fury in him before, but a deep-seated certainty gnawed at you - you were the spark that ignited this inferno.
With a defeated sigh, you closed the file. "Can't you handle this?"
Brandon's voice held a hint of regret. "If I could, I wouldn't have come to get you."
Another sigh, heavier this time, escaped your lips. "He wants to talk to me."
Brandon nodded silently. You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes. "Just tell me when we land."
Each passing moment was fraught with tension, the image of Bucky burning into your mind. The weight of your choice, the lie you'd woven, pressed down on you like a physical burden. As the plane soared through the clouds, you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation, the consequence of a past drenched in deception.
*************
The car sped through the bustling city streets, a tense silence hanging heavy in the air between you and Brandon. The file containing Bucky's photo as a ruthless hostage-taker lay discarded on your lap, the image seared into your memory.
"We have to prepare for the worst," Brandon said, his voice grim. "We don't know what that bastard will do to you."
You remained quiet, your gaze fixed on the cityscape blurring past the window. A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within you: regret, guilt, and a flicker of fear.
Brandon continued, "You can't do this alone, Y/N."
"I know," you finally responded, your voice barely audible.
Brandon offered a heavy sigh. "Good. I've gathered some agents who..."
His sentence was abruptly cut short by a deafening explosion that rocked the car. The rear driver-side tire gave way, sending the vehicle swerving wildly across the street.
"What the hell?!" Brandon exclaimed, his voice laced with shock.
Adrenaline surged through your veins, the years of undercover training kicking in. "It's him," you stated, your voice steady despite the chaos unfolding around you.
"Damn it! Where is he? We wiped our tracks clean," Brandon cursed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he fought to regain control of the car.
You craned your neck to look through the rear window, spotting a lone figure standing on the overpass ahead of them. Bucky. He held a sniper rifle aimed directly at your car, his masked face unreadable.
"There," you said, pointing towards him.
Panic flickered in Brandon's eyes before he slammed on the gas pedal, shouting to the driver, "Faster!"
The chase was on, a desperate attempt to outmaneuver a vengeful Bucky and reach the safety of the agency headquarters. The once quiet car ride had morphed into a heart-pounding race against time, the line between hunter and hunted blurring with each passing moment.
The car lurched and swayed, tires screeching in protest as Brandon fought to regain control. Explosions echoed behind them, a deadly symphony composed of shattered glass and mangled metal. Each boom sent tremors through the car, a chilling reminder of Bucky's deadly precision.
You watched, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, as one by one, the cars accompanying them were systematically eliminated. Bucky, a relentless specter on the overpass above, picked them off with chilling ease. Each shot rang out like a death knell, extinguishing the hopes of their backup and leaving you and Brandon increasingly isolated.
"Damn him!" Brandon roared, frustration and fear coloring his voice. "He's like a goddamn ghost!"
With a final, bone-jarring explosion, the last remaining car sputtered and screeched to a halt, flames licking at its mangled frame. You and Brandon exchanged a grim look, the weight of their predicament settling like a leaden weight in your gut.
Just as despair threatened to consume you, a figure materialized on the edge of the overpass, silhouetted against the afternoon sun.
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Bucky, his mask a stark contrast to the golden light, dropped down onto the hood of the flaming car with an agility that defied physics. He landed in a crouch, the glint of his rifle barrel reflecting the dying sun as he turned his gaze towards you.
A tremor ran through you, a primal mix of shock and awe. You'd known of his skills, witnessed glimpses of his prowess during your time together, but this... this was something else entirely. He moved with a lethal grace, a predator stalking its prey, and the cold certainty in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.
"Shit," you muttered, the single word encompassing the maelstrom of emotions churning within you. With a chilling certainty, you knew this was no longer just a mission gone wrong. This was personal.
You fumbled for your gun, the familiar weight a cold comfort in your trembling hand. But your movements were sluggish, weighed down by the shock and the adrenaline wearing off. Before you could even raise the weapon, a click echoed in the air, the sound of a safety being disengaged. It was too late.
Bucky lowered his mask, revealing a face etched with a mixture of pain and fury. His eyes, once full of warmth and affection, now held the hollow glint of a man consumed by vengeance.
"Welcome back, Alex," he said, his voice a low growl. "Or should I say, Y/N?"
The familiar name, once a term of endearment, now sounded foreign, laced with a bitter edge. You remained silent, the weight of his words and the betrayal they carried settling heavily in your chest.
He waited, his gaze lingering on your face, searching for something, perhaps a flicker of recognition, a spark of remorse. But there was only a void, a reflection of the shattered trust that lay between you.
"I've been waiting for a long time," he finally spoke, his voice devoid of its usual gruffness, replaced by a chilling emptiness.
You found your voice then, a mere whisper escaping your lips. "Why are you doing this?"
Bucky remained silent for a moment, the only sound the crackling of the burning car nearby. He took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving yours.
He reached out, his calloused fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of familiarity and fear.
"Don't you know?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I'm doing this to get your attention."
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Author Note:
My dear readers and followers,
Could you please share your opinions about this series with me?
If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear why it appealed to you.
If not, I would greatly appreciate your feedback and advice on improving the series.
Thank you!
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cool-fancier · 4 months
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A Fiery Reunion
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Synopsis: Bada's arrival ignites a fire within you, leading to an intense time filled with passion and exploration of our deepest desires.
Requested by anonymous
a/n: This story contains explicit sexual content . The characters and especially Bada and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real-life individuals or situations is purely coincidental. This story is a work of fiction and should not be interpreted as a reflection of real-life relationships or situations.
Word count:2.2K
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The first time you laid eyes on Bada, it was at a crowded art gallery opening. Her presence was magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Her confidence exuded from every pore, and her striking features commanded attention.
You found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from her as she moved through the crowd, effortlessly captivating those around her with her infectious smile. It was as if time stood still, and the world faded into the background, leaving only her in sharp focus.
Summoning all the courage you could muster, you made our way towards her, hoping to strike up a conversation. As you approached, your nerves threatened to consume you, but you pushed through, determined to make a connection.
"Hi," you greeted, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "I couldn't help but notice your presence in the room. The way you carry yourself is simply captivating."
Bada's eyes locked onto yours, a mischievous glint dancing within them. She smirked, her gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Well, aren't you charming? I do have a way of leaving an impression, don't I?"
Her playful response set the tone for our conversation, easing the tension that had gripped you moments before. You both exchanged pleasantries and delved into discussions about art, philosophy, and life itself. It was as if you were two souls hungry for intellectual stimulation, craving the connection that only like-minded individuals could provide.
As the night wore on, your conversation flowed effortlessly, each word deepening the bond you were forming. You both laughed, challenged each other's beliefs, and found solace in the comfort of shared understanding.
Days turned into weeks, and your conversations extended beyond the art gallery. The two of you exchanged numbers, and your messages became a lifeline, connecting your thoughts and desires across the digital realm. You discovered a profound connection that transcended the surface level, delving into the depths of your souls.
Late-night conversations turned into early morning confessions, as you bared your vulnerabilities and shared your deepest dreams. You both found solace in one another's words, a refuge from the chaos of the world outside.
It was during one of these late-night conversations that Bada finally broke the barrier of friendship, her words laced with a newfound boldness. "You know, Y/N, I can't help but feel this undeniable chemistry between us," she confessed. "I want to explore what lies beyond friendship with you. Are you open to the possibility?"
Your heart skipped a beat, your mind racing with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The connection you had formed was undeniably powerful, and the thought of taking it to the next level both thrilled and frightened you.
But in that moment, you trusted your instincts, your heart yearning to delve deeper into the unknown. "Yes," you replied, my voice filled with conviction. "I want to explore this connection with you, to see where it leads."
And so, you took the leap, venturing into the realm of romance with equal parts excitement and trepidation. Your dates were filled with adventure and exploration, each experience deepening your bond. You both discovered shared passions, indulging in the pleasures of life together.
Your connection extended beyond the physical realm, as you nurtured each other's dreams and supported one another's growth. Bada became your confidante, your partner in crime, and the one who pushed you to embrace your desires and embrace the fullness of life.
With every passing day, your love blossomed, defying societal norms and expectations. You revelled in the uniqueness of your connection, cherishing the unconventional path we had chosen.
As you embarked on this journey of love and self-discovery, you knew deep in your heart that your story would forever be etched in the annals of passion and desire. Together, you embraced the uncharted territories of your hearts, discovering a love that was both extraordinary and unparalleled.
In the end, your love was not a cliché tale of love at first sight, but a story of two souls finding solace and passion in one another's arms. And as you continued to write your own narrative, the two of you reveled in the beauty of your unconventional love story, embracing the magic that unfolded between the two of you.
— — — — —
You had been eagerly anticipating Bada's arrival all day, your heart fluttering with excitement. It had been too long since you last saw her, and you missed her presence, her touch, her intoxicating energy.
As the doorbell rang, you rushed to open it, a smile spreading across your face as you laid eyes on Bada. She stood before you, radiating confidence and allure, her eyes locked on yours.
"Y/N," she said, her voice filled with warmth and longing. "I've missed you."
You reached out to pull her into a tight embrace, savoring the familiar scent of her as your bodies pressed against each other. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this moment of reunion.
"I missed you too, Bada," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine affection. "It feels like forever since we were last together."
Bada leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "I couldn't stand being away from you any longer," she murmured, her words sending shivers down your spine. "I needed to see you, to feel your touch."
The desire in her voice ignited a fire within you, your longing for her intensifying with every passing second. You knew that this reunion would be more than just a simple embrace. It would be a passionate exploration of your desires, a celebration of the connection you both shared.
Without a word, Bada took your hand and led you to the bedroom, where the air crackled with anticipation. The room was adorned with soft candlelight, casting a warm and intimate glow across the space.
As you watched Bada undress, her movements slow and deliberate, your heart raced with desire. The sight of her naked body, her curves and contours, made your pulse quicken. You couldn't help but admire her, the way her confidence radiated from her every pore.
She turned to face you, her eyes locked with yours, and a seductive smile played on her lips. "Undress for me, Y/N," she commanded, her voice filled with a mix of dominance and desire.
With trembling hands, you shed your clothes, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and excitement. Bada's gaze never wavered, her eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin. You could feel the heat between the two of you intensify as your naked bodies stood before each other, the air heavy with anticipation.
Without hesitation, Bada closed the distance between us, her hands exploring every curve and crevice of your body. Her touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You surrendered to her completely, allowing her to guide you into a world of exquisite pleasure.
As your bodies intertwined, both your moans and gasps filled the room, harmonizing with the rhythm of your passion. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourselves in each other, your desires merging and intertwining.
Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the fire within you, propelling you towards the edge of ecstasy. Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, a dance of passion and desire.
You lay tangled in Bada's embrace, your body still humming with the remnants of pleasure. Her words fueled a mix of desire and uncertainty within you, your mind grappling with the idea of pushing yourself further, of surrendering to the depths of pleasure she so effortlessly commanded.
Your voice quivered as you responded, your breath catching in my throat. "I...I don't know if I can," you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and apprehension. The sensations coursing through your body made it difficult to focus, to think clearly.
Bada's eyes held a hunger that matched your own, her lips curving into a wicked smile as she brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Oh, Y/N," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "I believe in you. I know you can push yourself further, explore new heights of pleasure."
Her words stirred a dormant fire within you, reigniting the embers of your desire. With her hand teasing your nipples, your body responded involuntarily, your breath hitching at the sensation. The thought of being pushed to your limits excited you, even as fear mingled with desire.
"Do you want me to...?" You trailed off, my voice filled with both anticipation and trepidation. The idea of Bada fulfilling her every desire, even if it meant pushing your boundaries, enticed you in ways you never thought possible. But the idea of your roommate coming home soon, added a layer of caution to your thoughts.
Bada's response was immediate, her voice filled with an intoxicating mix of need and anticipation. "I want everything from you," she assured you, her words spoken with a sense of urgency. "But we need to be mindful of your roommate. We wouldn't want any unexpected interruptions, would we?"
The reality of your situation sank in, and you nodded, your mind reeling with a mix of disappointment and excitement. You understood the need for caution, the desire to keep your encounters hidden from prying eyes. But your body, still buzzing with need, ached for release, for the next level of pleasure that only Bada could provide.
As Bada's fingers lingered on your nipples, teasing and coaxing, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond the boundaries of your comfort zone. The thought of Bada's touch, sent a surge of excitement through me. It was a forbidden desire, one that you had only dared to explore in the darkest corners of my fantasies.
Her lips, soft and demanding, claimed yours in a fervent kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. Both your tongues danced in a passionate embrace, exploring the depths of each other's mouths, as your bodies pressed closer, seeking the ultimate connection.
Bada's hand trailed down your torso, her fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. A shiver of anticipation coursed through you as her touch brushed against your inner thighs, teasingly close to the source of your pleasure.
With a deft movement, she spread your legs apart, exposing the wetness that had pooled between your thighs. The cool air caressed your heated flesh, intensifying the ache of need that pulsed within you.
Her fingers traced a path along your slick folds, teasingly circling your clit before dipping lower. A gasp escaped your lips as she plunged two fingers deep inside you, filling you with a delicious stretch. You arched your back, your body craving more, even though you were quite sensitive as she set a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.
"Good girl," Bada purred, her voice a sultry melody. "You're so wet and ready for me. Just relax and let go."
Her words, laced with dominance and desire, sent a surge of electricity through you. You surrendered to her touch, your body becoming a vessel for her pleasure. Each thrust of her fingers brought you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the precipice of ecstasy.
Your hips bucked in time with her movements, your moans of pleasure filling the room. Bada's free hand reached up to cup your breast, her thumb expertly flicking your hardened nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core.
Sensation overwhelmed you as you teetered on the edge of release, your body tensing with anticipation. Bada's fingers quickened their pace, driving you closer to the brink, until the dam finally broke.
An explosion of pleasure ripped through you, waves of ecstasy crashing over your body. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers clawing at the sheets as you cried out in ecstasy. Bada held you through the intensity of your orgasm, riding the waves of pleasure with you.
As the aftershocks subsided, you lay breathless and sated, your body tingling with the remnants of pleasure. Bada's fingers slowly withdrew from your depths, leaving you feeling both empty and fulfilled.
She kissed you tenderly, her lips conveying a mixture of tenderness and satisfaction. "You were amazing," she whispered against your lips. "I love the way you respond to me, the way you surrender to pleasure."
As the aftershocks subsided, you lay spent and satisfied in Bada's arms, your bodies still entwined. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the palpable energy that lingered between us.
Bada's voice, a gentle whisper, broke the silence. "You were incredible," she murmured, her fingers tenderly caressing your cheek. "So beautiful and responsive. I can't wait to explore more with you, to take you to places you've never been before."
"Thank you for coming to see me, Bada," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude and affection.
Bada smiled, her eyes sparkling with adoration. "I would go to the ends of the earth for you, Y/N," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "You mean everything to me."
In that moment, you knew that your connection was something truly special. It was a love that transcended physical pleasure, a love that encompassed trust, understanding, and an unwavering desire to explore the depths of your desires together. And as you drifted off to sleep, your bodies entwined, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the adventures that awaited you in the days to come.
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st4rtar0t · 7 months
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Random messages from your crush.
Could be anything, their feelings, how they see you, what they think about you etc.
Pick a picture from below.
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Picture one
In the realm of unspoken emotions, it appears that your crush perceives you as a vibrant soul, one who thrives amidst the joyful company of friends. To them, you radiate an aura of extroversion, forever immersed in the warmth of companionship. It's as if you have a never-ending circle of friends, or perhaps two steadfast allies who accompany you through life's journey. But there's more to their perception; they view you as a versatile being, capable of crafting beauty from the raw canvas of existence. To their eyes, you possess an enchanting quality, something almost mystical, which sets you apart from the ordinary. And, most tellingly, the message is clear: your crush harbors affection for you, a sentiment subtly returned by most who choose this pile.
Picture two
In the unique landscape of your romantic narrative, your crush observes you as an individual who relishes the solitude of their own company. They yearn to approach you, to delve into your enigmatic world, yet they hesitate, uncertain if you would welcome their intrusion. In their perception, you exude an air of self-sufficiency, an unwavering ability to stand tall and assert your presence. Furthermore, it seems they regard you as a worthy adversary, especially in academic pursuits, a silent competition that fuels their admiration. A curious twist unfolds as their protective instincts emerge, a desire to shield you from the surrounding world, as though guarding a precious gem. This story is one that resonates with the timeless theme of rivals transforming into affectionate allies.
Picture three
In the tapestry of your connection, if there's history between you and your crush, it seems they're reluctant to disrupt the harmony of your friendship. They cherish the bond you share, and the thought of altering its essence fills them with apprehension. Their heart harbors the fear that confessing their feelings might alter the dynamics forever. Yet, there's a magnetic pull, an undeniable attraction, especially if your crush bears the fiery energy of a fire sign. Interestingly, in their eyes, you embody a delightful chaos, an endearing brand of disaster that sparks their affection. Your unique expression of self draws them in, like moths to a captivating flame, forging a connection that remains unspoken but undeniably profound
340 notes · View notes
thedensworld · 7 months
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To The Rescue | Jeon Wonwoo
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Pairing: Detective!Wonwoo x Detective!Reader (mentioning Detective!Seungkwan, Hansol, Jeonghan and Prosecutor!Mingyu)
Genre: Mystery, Angst, Romance, Slow-burn
Summary: Eight years had passed since you and Wonwoo last worked together, but fate had other plans. The case you thought was behind you resurfaced, pulling you back into the world you thought you'd left behind.
Author note: i apologize for the mistype or misinformation. This had written before Jeonghan's fic and writing this takes a lot of time and thinking. I warn you that this story mostly focusing on the plot and revealing a dark-side of life. Hope it could be a reflection for all of us🌼
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There are two compelling reasons driving your determination to work diligently on this case:
1. You know yourself to be a proficient profiler
2 You want to show them, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are indeed a remarkable profiler.
However, a sudden shift in the dynamics of your team has sent ripples of unease through your professional composure. The arrival of Jeon Wonwoo as your new team leader is the source of this disquiet. His name precedes him—a legendary figure known for solving the elusive cold case of Kim Minjeong, a woman who had vanished for a decade, an enigma that had solved five years ago.
As he introduces himself to the team this morning, there's a sense of awe among your colleagues. They welcome him with open arms, but in your heart, a different sentiment brews. A gnawing suspicion lingers. You can't help but wonder if, in the past, you were the one individual he had clashed with in this very room. The room that had seen its share of victories and losses, now witnesses a new, tense undercurrent that could shape the course of this intriguing case.
Captain Jeon's arrival had added another layer of complexity to the already intense situation within the team. As if by fate, news had just arrived that Park Jiheon, a fugitive your team had been relentlessly pursuing, had been located. The entire unit buzzed with a heightened sense of urgency, each member pulled in various directions by the demanding workload.
Your personal drive to prove your worth and expertise intensified. It wasn't just about showcasing your capabilities to your colleagues; it was about silencing the senior detective who had once doubted your potential. His words had cut deep, lingering as a painful reminder of your earlier struggles.
As you were on the verge of boarding another van with your colleagues, Captain Jeon's voice sliced through the commotion, calling your name. His directive was clear, "y/n, you're coming with me." With hesitation, you halted your steps, swiftly switching gears from the bustling chaos to a mindset of unwavering professionalism.
As you settled into the car seat beside Captain Jeon, the engine roared to life, and the pursuit of answers in the Park Jiheon case began in earnest. His first words cut through the tension, "Tell me more about this case."
You wasted no time in briefing him on the crucial details. "Park Jiheon's status has shifted to that of a prime suspect after we discovered his DNA on the victim. He is now implicated in the murder of a woman, a brutal crime involving a knife, and her body found discarded in a lake. What raises suspicion further is the discovery of an unusual message exchange between the victim and someone who may not be Park Jiheon. This suggests the possibility of not a lone perpetrator, but someone else operating in the shadows."
Captain Jeon, his eyes focused on the road ahead, absorbed your explanation. His next question delved into the heart of the matter, "What is his relation to the victim?"
Your response was swift and conclusive, "Zero communication between them before the incident, sir."
A subtle nod from Captain Jeon signaled his understanding of the significance of this detail. "There's definitely someone behind it," he affirmed, echoing your own suspicions. As the pursuit of Park Jiheon and the elusive truth continued down the winding road, the mysteries surrounding the case deepened, and the urgency to unravel them grew stronger.
Captain Jeon's reminder brought a nostalgic twist to the current situation. "And don't call me sir, we used to be partners before," he cautioned, his smile reminiscent of shared memories. It was evident that he chose to remember the camaraderie and successes of the past, a sentiment that earned a mental chuckle from you, he definitely only remember the good one since you were mostly experienced the bad one.
"Understood, sunbae," you responded, reverting to the familiar address you had used when you were a team.
The operation to apprehend Park Jiheon was in full swing as your team arrived at the location, spreading out to cover all possible escape routes. You found yourself paired with Jeon Wonwoo and the rookie, Hyunjin, who had only joined the team a few months ago. The hunt for the suspect began in earnest.
"I haven't seen him, so I trust this to you," Wonwoo stated, placing his confidence in your profiling skills. Hyunjin, eager to assist, provided a description, "He wears a black shirt, sir," but both you and Wonwoo simultaneously dismissed it with a knowing glance, "it could be removed."
You turned to Jeon Wonwoo, sharing the specific identifiers that would make Park Jiheon stand out. "He has darkened bruises on his neck, and he's limping when he walks."
Wonwoo's smile was fleeting as his eyes remained fixed on the task at hand. "There he is," he declared, spotting a man fitting the description, wearing a black shirt and exhibiting the telltale signs of injury, making his way toward a nearby bus station.
"Hyunjin, inform his location to the others. Y/n, you come with me," Wonwoo instructed, and you nodded in acknowledgment as you both moved toward the suspect with cautious intent.
However, the operation took an unexpected turn. The wail of sirens suddenly pierced the air, startling both you and Wonwoo, and, of course, Park Jiheon. In a panicked moment, he seized an opportunity, darting towards a passing delivery motorcycle, snatching it, and speeding away.
You and Wonwoo immediately gave chase on foot, the adrenaline surging through your veins. You covered miles, running tirelessly, yet ultimately losing sight of Park Jiheon in the chaos of the chase. Exhausted and disheartened, you finally came to a halt, gasping for breath, with little hope of Hyunjin or anyone else catching up.
Turning your gaze to Jeon Wonwoo, you couldn't help but notice the frustration etched on his face. He had lost his quarry, but it wasn't just that; there was also an unmistakable irritation stemming from the less-than-ideal coordination of the team he had only joined earlier that morning. The mission had taken an unexpected turn, leaving you both grappling with the consequences of a missed opportunity.
*
The abrupt sound of a marker hitting the desk jolted everyone in the room. It was the first day of work with Captain Jeon Wonwoo at the helm, and the atmosphere had taken a sharp turn. The tension in the room was palpable, and humor was the last thing on anyone's mind.
In response to the unexpected outburst, you and your team members swiftly lined up in front of him, heads bowed, hands folded, a show of respect and readiness to address the situation. While you were not the oldest on the team, you and Detective Seo Taekwang, in his late 40s, were the experienced ones responsible for guiding the three others: Hansol, Seungkwan, and the rookie, Hyunjin.
Captain Jeon's frustration was evident as he vented his disappointment. "This is too much. Like missing the train that had been waiting in front of you. Do you guys even know the basics of pursuing?" he began, his words a mix of exasperation and concern. He turned to Detective Seo, who had 15 years of experience under his belt, and then to you, with a decade of service. "Detective Seo, it's been 15 years! Detective Ji, you've been at this for 10 years! Have you ever taught these three to catch up, to take the initiative, to head to the car and..."
His sentence trailed off, frustration evident in the way he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find words to convey his disappointment. The weight of the moment hung heavily in the room, a stark reminder that there was much work to be done to bring the team up to the standards expected by their new leader.
While waiting for the next report, Captain Jeon Wonwoo made his directives clear. "I want you to learn again about basic pursuing. Detective Ji, monitor them. Detective Seo, you can follow me."
As Captain Jeon and Detective Seo left the room, leaving you in charge of the team, the tension began to dissipate. You could hear Seungkwan's apprehensive remark about their new team leader being scary, while Hansol remained silent, engrossed in his notes. Hyunjin, on the other hand, appeared to have melted into his chair, overwhelmed by the morning's events.
Seungkwan's comment prompted you to take charge. "Captain Jeon is so scary," he mused, voicing the unease shared by many in the room. You hummed in agreement and swiftly gathered the team's attention. "So am I. Let's relearn pursuit procedures and evaluate what just happened," you suggested, met with mild protests.
Hansol, however, had a question on his mind and raised his hand, seeking clarification. "Can I ask a question?" he inquired, and you nodded, signaling for him to continue. "When there's no instruction by the leader, should we continue pursuing?" he queried.
You provided a nuanced response, "Yes and no, it depends on the situation. There are situations where acting immediately could heighten the risk. As police officers, our aim is to provide solutions that minimize risk. What was your last lesson on pursuit procedures in enforcement school?" you quizzed all three of them.
In unison, they replied, "Terminating."
You delved deeper, "What do you do before you terminate a pursuit?"
Their answers flowed seamlessly, "Crisis intervention, assessment, and de-escalation."
Your smile conveyed approval as Hansol provided the correct response. "That's right," you affirmed. "Minimizing potential danger is crucial in our line of work. We must always weigh the risks and benefits when deciding whether to continue or terminate a pursuit."
It was evident that the team had a solid understanding of the basic principles, and your aim was not just to instruct but to reinforce their knowledge and decision-making skills. As you sensed their confidence growing, you decided to lighten the mood.
"I think you all have a good grasp of this," you said with a grin. "Let's put the theory into practice after our coffee break. But for now, let's enjoy that coffee and recharge." The offer of a coffee break was met with smiles and nods, a welcome respite from the intense morning.
*
'This is what would happened if you keep doing everything on your own!'
'With that head of yours, how could you be a good detective on the future?'
"That was a bit harsh, wasn't it?" A sudden voice disrupted your daydream. It was Yoon Jeonghan, a friend turned colleague from your academic days. His smile softened the tension that had settled in your shoulders. You sighed, knowing he had overheard Captain Wonwoo's reprimand.
"And loud too, right?" You quipped, rolling your eyes as Jeonghan burst into laughter.
"I was a bit worried about Seungkwan; he's the child of Chief Boo, after all," Jeonghan commented, his concern evident. You sighed again, dreading the moment when Captain Jeon would find out about this fact. "Can't wait until he hears about it," you responded sarcastically, feigning enthusiasm.
"Glad they have great seniors like you and Detective Seo," Jeonghan praised, and you graciously accepted the compliment. Memories of the old days filled your thoughts. "You know how hard it was for us, and we used to miss having a nice senior," you reminisced, a longing for a mentor figure evident in your voice.
Jeonghan nodded, understanding your concerns. "We're getting older, and they're the people we'll rely on in the future, right? Investing your time to give them the best guidance is what everyone needs in the team."
You released your third sigh, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. "Want to switch and become our leader instead?" You asked him, adding a touch of humor to the conversation.
As you continued to chat with Jeonghan, you couldn't help but appreciate the support and camaraderie you had in the police department. In this demanding profession, having friends like Jeonghan who understood the challenges was a true blessing.
A sudden, ring interrupted your conversation with Jeonghan. You glanced at your phone, recognizing the caller as Hyunjin. You swiftly answered, only to be met with urgent words.
"Park Jiheon is on his way to the ferry. He's about to run away," Hyunjin urgently informed you.
Your heart raced as you realized the gravity of the situation. You knew you had to act swiftly. "I need to go," you said to Jeonghan, abandoning your half-empty cup of coffee and tossing it into the nearby bin.
Without hesitation, Jeonghan offered his assistance. "I'll drive you. My car is right there," he said, grabbing your arm and guiding you toward his waiting vehicle.
You both sprinted to his car, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized the urgency of the situation. Jeonghan's car roared to life, and you sped off toward the location given by the dispatcher. The tension in the car was palpable, and Jeonghan glanced at you, concern etched across his face.
"Do you need assistance from my team?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You hesitated for a moment, contemplating the offer. The image of Captain Jeon's stern face flashed before your eyes, and you realized that accepting without his consent could have dire consequences. "Thank you, Jeonghan, but I'll handle this on my own for now," you replied, your voice resolute, though a trace of worry lingered.
As you arrived at the location with your younger team members, you quickly assessed the situation. Captain Jeon and Detective Seo were chasing Park Jiheon, who was on the run. You signaled to your team members to pursue them while you and Jeonghan took a different route.
Your heart pounded as you sprinted through the labyrinthine streets, determined to catch Park Jiheon. Finally, you spotted him ahead and made a split-second decision. You lunged forward, delivering a powerful flying kick that sent Park Jiheon sprawling to the ground.
With Park Jiheon incapacitated, you moved in to handcuff him. But before you could complete the arrest, chaos erupted. Out of nowhere, a group of 15 to 20 people swarmed your location, and in their midst was Seungkwan, held at gunpoint with a weapon pressed against his temple.
Panic surged through you, but you maintained your composure. You signaled to Jeonghan to call for backup from the station. As you surveyed the situation, you noticed something peculiar about these individuals. They didn't appear to be Park Jiheon's associates. Their attire was rugged, and their physical appearance suggested they were not accustomed to this kind of operation.
Captain Wonwoo took advantage of the moment, taunting Park Jiheon. However, the response from the group was lackluster and unconvincing. Your profiler's intuition kicked in, and you leaned toward the possibility that they were hired to intimidate the police rather than being genuinely affiliated with Park Jiheon.
Your attention then shifted to Seungkwan, who was struggling against his captor. He subtly shook his head, signaling that the situation wasn't what it seemed. You studied the way the man held the gun, realizing he appeared inexperienced, possibly handling a firearm for the first time or even using a fake one.
You exchanged a knowing glance with Seungkwan and gave him a subtle nod. In a sudden and decisive move, Seungkwan expertly flipped his captor, setting off a chain reaction as the rest of your team members sprang into action.
It was clear that Seungkwan's judo skills had shifted the tide in your favor. The brawl that ensued was intense, but with teamwork and skill, your team managed to overpower the intruders, disarming them and securing the situation.
*
"From their alibi, we've learned that they were instructed by phone to assist Park Jiheon in escaping. There's a possibility that Park Jiheon is in possession of something significant, which is why they're helping him. It would have been more logical for them to allow him to be captured without directly involving themselves, but that's not the case," Captain Jeon briefed all the team members, addressing the perplexing situation.
"We should listen to Park Jiheon's alibi and try to determine who he's working for," Detective Seo suggested.
Captain Jeon concurred with a solemn nod. "Hansol, search for any unusual transactions in his bank account. Hyunjin, analyze his phone and report anything that could support our case. Detective Seo, can you and Seungkwan investigate his alibi by tonight?" The rest of the team acknowledged their assignments with swift nods of understanding.
Finally, Captain Jeon's gaze shifted to you, his expression unwavering. "Detective Ji, you'll come with me."
Captain Jeon drove you to the scene where the victim had been discovered, a tranquil lake nestled near a manufacturing village. The waters mirrored the somber atmosphere that had descended upon your team as you delved deeper into this enigmatic case.
As you gazed out at the serene landscape, Captain Jeon suddenly broke the silence with a probing question. "Have you checked Park Jiheon's background, Y/n?" His eyes flickered with a mix of determination and curiosity.
You nodded, recalling the details you had unearthed. "He used to be a murder suspect in the case of his own wife. However, we couldn't gather enough evidence, and it remained a cold case," you recounted, the memories of that unsolved mystery resurfacing.
Captain Jeon's expression remained stern as he continued to enlighten you. "He also had a significant amount of debt due to gambling. It's plausible that he was promised a huge mount of money to handle this murder," he added, providing crucial insight into Park Jiheon's motivations.
The puzzle deepened with the revelation that Park Jiheon had resurfaced as a suspect in a different murder, using a completely distinct modus operandi. It was a risky move for someone who wanted to evade capture, signaling a complexity to this case that you couldn't ignore.
"We need to uncover the truth behind his wife's case first," you asserted, your voice resolute. Captain Jeon nodded in agreement. "By doing that, we might gain a clearer perspective on whether someone else is orchestrating these crimes."
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After hours of intense interrogation, you and your team finally obtained the crucial information you needed to confirm the unthinkable. Park Jiheon, the man who had initially been a mere suspect, was indeed the murderer of the victim found in the tranquil lake. The weight of this revelation hung heavy in the room, casting a chilling silence over the investigators.
Park Jiheon's demeanor during the questioning had been unnerving, to say the least. He remained stoically silent when confronted with the damning message found on his phone, a message that connected him to unknown individuals and hinted at a web of intrigue and danger. He seemed resolute, unwilling to divulge any information about the people he had been working for or the sinister motives behind this gruesome act.
As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, Park Jiheon's status transitioned from that of a mere suspect to a perpetrator. But amidst this grim revelation, your team decided to delve even deeper into the darkness surrounding Park Jiheon. A collective decision was made to reopen the long-forgotten cold case of Park Jiheon's wife, whose mysterious disappearance had remained unsolved for far too long. With determination burning in your eyes, you prepared to submit a letter of request, seeking permission to pursue this case further.
In the dimly lit room, the conversation took a tense turn. It was just the two of you now, the late-night shift casting long shadows across the cluttered desks. Hansol had left to grab a late-night snack, leaving you and Jeon Wonwoo alone in the midst of your work.
Wonwoo's unexpected question about your father caught you off guard, causing you to stop piling the papers in front of you. You turned to face him, your expression guarded as you replied, "I don't discuss personal matters at work, sunbae," and then resumed your tasks, a clear indication that the topic was off-limits.
But Jeon Wonwoo persisted, his words needling at your patience. "I'm sorry, the last thing I remember about you is how your father kept meddling in our cases," he remarked, his tone deliberate, seemingly designed to provoke a reaction.
You tried to maintain your composure, offering a strained smile. Your folded arms betrayed the annoyance simmering beneath the surface as you replied, "I'm not sure what you're getting at, Captain Jeon."
Wonwoo's gaze remained fixed on you as he continued, "Didn't you secure your position because of him?" His eyes drifted to your rank insignia, displaying your status as a Detective 3.
Your response was curt, laced with a hint of defensiveness, "That's a bold accusation to make without any proof, coming from a fellow police officer."
Jeon Wonwoo's smile widened at your reaction, a wry glint in his eyes. "Your father may not be a commissioner anymore, Y/n," he remarked, his tone calm and measured, "but perhaps it's time for you to learn to push your arrogance aside."
The unspoken tension lingered in the room, an invisible barrier dividing the two of you. The room seemed to grow even smaller, suffused with an uncomfortable energy that crackled between you and Jeon Wonwoo. Memories of the past weighed heavily in the air. There was a time when the two of you had been on the same team, working closely together when your father held a powerful position as a commissioner. Back then, it had been a different dynamic, one filled with camaraderie and shared goals. But now, the dynamics had shifted, and the connection you once had seemed to have fractured. Wonwoo's rise through the ranks had come without the same influential backing that had been bestowed upon you, and it was clear that it had left a bitter taste.
"Sunbae, i can't find your hotteok at this hour."
Eventually, Hansol returned with a selection of snacks, not hotteok, but an assortment of tteokbokki and others. The three of you gathered around a small table in the corner of the room, creating a makeshift late-night snack feast. As you opened the bags and unwrapped the sweets, a sense of camaraderie began to replace the earlier tension.
Hansol broke the ice with a wry grin. "Well, it seems hotteok will have to wait until tomorrow, unless one of you wants to go on a culinary adventure across town."
You chuckled, grabbing a handful of honey butter chip. "Maybe next time, Hansol."
Jeon Wonwoo joined in, taking a candy bar. "So, Y/n, you mentioned something about a similar case to Park Jiheon's earlier."
You nodded, your professional instincts kicking in. "Yes, it was just a hunch, but there have been a few cases lately with peculiar patterns. Unsolved murders where the victims seemed connected to some shadowy underworld. It reminded me of Park Jiheon's situation."
Hansol leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Do you think there might be a bigger organization involved?"
You shrugged, sipping on a can of soda. "It's hard to say, but it's worth looking into. If there's any chance of finding a lead in those cases, we should pursue it."
Jeon Wonwoo nodded in agreement. "Agreed. We can start by gathering all available information on those cases and see if any common threads emerge."
As you meticulously analyzed the cases with the help of Hansol and the gathered information from the other detectives, a pattern began to emerge, one that sent shivers down your spine. It became evident that the perpetrators in these unsolved cases had a disturbing modus operandi—they all disposed of their victims by throwing them into bodies of water, whether it be a lake, river, or a well.
With the pieces of the puzzle finally coming together, you gathered your findings and presented them to the team. "I've compiled the profiles of the victims, their sequence, and the techniques used," you began, your voice carrying a sense of urgency. "And here's something intriguing. The common thread we've been missing is the connection between the victims and the perpetrators."
Wonwoo leaned in, his eyes fixed on the information you had laid out. "So, what did you find?"
You pointed to a name on the list. "Jang Junghyuk, a producer of JJ Label. All of the victims had a shared history—they were once trainees under this man, including Park Jiheon's victim, Kang Hye-jin."
As you and Hansol delved further into the details of the interconnected cases, you couldn't help but notice the distracted look in Jeon Wonwoo's eyes. It was as if something from the past had momentarily pulled him away from the present investigation.
You followed his gaze to a photo on the table, one of the victims from a case that had been solved a decade ago. The weight of that past experience seemed to resurface, causing him to shake his head in an attempt to regain his focus. His mind appeared to be grappling with a multitude of emotions and memories.
Respecting his need to collect himself, you continued to explain the intricate connections between the cases, hoping that the newly uncovered lead would provide a breakthrough in solving these mysteries. The room remained silent, save for the sound of your voice and the rustling of papers, as you pressed forward, determined to uncover the truth that had eluded you for far too long.
Jeon Wonwoo, despite his momentary distraction, remained an integral part of the team. You knew that he, too, was committed to resolving these cases, even as the past continued to cast its long shadow over your shared journey into the darkness of these interconnected mysteries.
CASE 140220U3075
Name of Victim: Jeon Wonhee
Sex: Female
Age: 24th
Cause of Death: Knife stabbing (3 stabs founded)
Location of Found: South Edge of Han River
*
Jeon Wonwoo's illustrious career as a detective had spanned an impressive 16 years. Throughout this time, he had weathered the storms of countless cases, each with its own unique challenges and intricacies. Victories had been sweet, but losses had weighed heavily on his conscience. Yet, through it all, his unwavering dedication to his work remained a steadfast pillar in his life. Over the years, Wonwoo had delved into the darkest corners of humanity, peeling back layers of deception, uncovering secrets, and delivering justice to those who deserved it. He had earned a well-deserved reputation as a relentless and principled investigator, a badge of honor he wore with humility. However, a tragic turn of events shook the very foundation of his life. Something terrible had happened to his family, specifically to his younger sister.
It was a case that hit too close to home, and Wonwoo was determined to uncover the truth behind the tragedy. His beloved sister had fallen victim to a crime that remained unsolved, haunting him like a persistent ghost. Every lead he had chased, every dead end he had hit, it all led to an agonizing dead halt. Wonwoo's pursuit of justice now took a deeply personal turn as he yearned to find the answers that had eluded him for too long.
Just as he was on the cusp of a breakthrough in his sister's case, a new commissioner took office, bringing with him a tide of changes. Wonwoo's hopes for progress were abruptly dashed as the new commissioner seemed more interested in reshaping the department and prioritizing high-profile cases.
To further compound his frustration, you were placed on his team, a move that had been orchestrated by your influential father. Your reckless actions in the past had caused his team to fail in securing critical evidence, forcing a case to come to an abrupt halt. The wounds from that failure still festered within him, and your presence served as a constant reminder of the past misstep.
Despite the strained dynamic between you and Wonwoo, the team needed to function cohesively, especially as you were all now facing an intricate and interconnected series of cases. The past weighed heavily on his shoulders, and the determination to find justice for his sister fueled his every move.
"You good, bro?" Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend since their days at the enforcement school, had an uncanny knack for disrupting his moments of solitude. A cold soda can made a sudden appearance, gently tapping against Wonwoo's cheek as Mingyu couldn't resist interrupting his quality "me time."
Wonwoo accepted the offering, his curiosity piqued. "What are you doing here?" he asked, standing in the bustling center of the police station.
Mingyu settled beside him, still in his prosecutor's suit. "Just met Detective Ji," he replied casually, "and she asked me to get involved in your case."
Wonwoo's brows furrowed at the mention of Ji Y/n. "Ji Y/n?" He repeated, disbelief evident in his voice.
"Hm.. Your team mate. Can't believe you guys will meet again after... What? 7 years? Fate," Mingyu added with a teasing tone, a chuckle escaping his lips as he reminisced about the considerable amount of tension that once existed between Wonwoo and you. The memories of your past interactions seemed to resurface, casting a shadow over the present moment. Wonwoo couldn't help but recall the moments when he and you had crossed paths, and his less-than-friendly demeanor had made a lasting impression. Now, fate had brought you back into his life, and he couldn't help but wonder how this unexpected reunion would impact the ongoing investigations and the unresolved tensions between you both.
Mingyu's advice hung heavy in the air as he mentioned the connection between Wonhee's case and the ongoing investigation. The weight of the unsolved mystery surrounding his sister had always loomed over Wonwoo's life, and now, it seemed to be intertwined with these new complexities.
"I read the report. I saw Wonhee's case is potentially related to this case," Mingyu remarked, his voice carrying a mix of concern and caution. "I don't want to say this, but I hope you don't let your emotions get the best of you."
Wonwoo let out a weary sigh, his conflicted feelings evident in the furrow of his brow. He knew he had to maintain control over his emotions, but it wasn't as simple as flicking a switch. The anguish and determination that came with his sister's case were a part of him, deeply ingrained and impossible to ignore.
The memories of how his emotions had cost him dearly in the past haunted Wonwoo. He had seen firsthand the devastating consequences of letting his feelings take control. Each time it had happened, the toll had been immeasurable.
The loss of crucial evidence in Wonhee's case was a wound that still festered. His unchecked emotions had clouded his judgment, causing him to overlook a vital piece of information that might have brought him closer to the truth.
A failed relationship, too, had crumbled under the weight of his obsession with a case. He had become so engrossed in his work that he had neglected the person who cared about him the most, ultimately driving her away.
And then there was the painful memory of a junior colleague who had paid the price for Wonwoo's oversensitivity. In the relentless pursuit of justice, Wonwoo had pushed his junior too hard, leading to their tragic exit from the team.
As he faced yet another complex case, Wonwoo was acutely aware of the delicate balance he had to strike between his unwavering dedication to his work and the emotions that could, if left unchecked, unravel everything he held dear. The scars from his past mistakes served as a constant reminder of the high stakes and the unforgiving nature of the world he operated in.
"I might like you," he remembers finally admitted to you, his voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and longing. Two years of mentoring you, observing your determination and charm, had led him to develop deep feelings. It was a rare and treacherous journey for him, his heart having been closed off for so long, and you represented a profound shift in his life.
However, their professional lives demanded immediate attention as news of the suspect's location spread. The team was thrust into a frenzy of activity, each member focused on pursuing the elusive Yoo Taesung, a critical figure in Jeon Wonhee's tragic murder.
As the case unfolded, a recklessness that had caused trouble in the past resurfaced. The DNA test results for the knife, a pivotal piece of evidence, went missing, leaving the team in disarray. Accusations flew, and the responsibility ultimately fell on you, as you had been the one to handle the test results.
"I swear it was him. I read it," you insisted, a note of desperation in your voice, believing that you had indeed read the results before they mysteriously vanished.
Wonwoo's patience wore thin, and he demanded answers. "Then where's the real one?"
"I don't know," was your painful admission.
The room fell into a stifling silence, and it was clear that the tension had reached its breaking point. Choi Seungcheol, their team leader, attempted to defuse the situation, but the damage was already done.
"This is what would happen if you keep doing everything on your own!" Wonwoo's accusation had cut deep, his frustration evident as he chastised your recklessness. It was a reminder of the times when your determination had veered into stubbornness, endangering not only the cases but also the trust of your colleagues.
"With that head of yours, how could you be a good detective in the future?" His words had left a bitter taste, a searing challenge to your abilities and a stark reminder of the expectations that weighed heavily upon you.
As the silence settled in the room, the gravity of the situation weighed on everyone. The echoes of Wonwoo's anger served as a stark reminder of the fragile line between personal emotions and the relentless pursuit of justice, leaving you to contemplate the impact of your actions on both your career and the relationships you held dear.
"Just because your father is a Commissioner," Wonwoo's voice trembled with frustration, "doesn't mean you can do everything as you wish. Everyone is working hard, and you—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Wonwoo abruptly turned and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut with a resounding finality, leaving behind a team stunned into silence. The weight of the unresolved confrontation hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tension that had been building for too long. The team members exchanged uneasy glances, grappling with the aftermath of the emotional exchange. The impact of Wonwoo's harsh words and the abrupt departure left a lingering unease that seemed to settle like a heavy fog in the room.
The deafening silence that followed Wonwoo's departure marked the end of an era, the culmination of a turbulent journey that had been punctuated by a series of professional and personal conflicts. It was a stark reminder of how their last conversation had severed the fragile thread that had once connected you both as colleagues. In the weeks that followed, you were reassigned to your current team, leaving behind Wonwoo and team, deepening to wound on Wonwoo's heart. Meanwhile, Wonwoo's determination to find answers for his sister's case had not wavered. He personally requested further investigation, fueled by his unwavering commitment to uncovering the truth. However, his efforts faced a daunting obstacle in the form of Jung Minhyuk, the Chief Inspector. Minhyuk rejected Wonwoo's request, delivering the devastating news that Commissioner Ji had explicitly requested that the case not be continued. The reasoning was that pursuing the case further could tarnish the reputation of the police force if the public were to learn of the details. This rejection served as a bitter blow to Wonwoo, and it felt as though justice had been sacrificed for the sake of public image. The frustration and helplessness he felt were profound, and it became increasingly clear that the path to closure for his sister's case was fraught with obstacles and resistance from those in positions of power.
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A month of tireless dedication and unwavering commitment under Wonwoo's steadfast direction has yielded remarkable results for your team. You've risen through the ranks, progressing from the lowly 10th position in the Criminal and Violence Division to a commendable 6th place.
The transformation is a testament to the collective effort and resilience of your team, as you relentlessly pursue justice, unravel complex cases, and maintain an unyielding commitment to your work. Wonwoo's leadership has played a pivotal role in your ascent, guiding your team through challenges and inspiring your team to excel.
The anticipation in the air was palpable as the team dinner that Wonwoo had promised to everyone days ago finally approached. In the midst of their busy lives, these moments of camaraderie were cherished, offering a respite from the relentless demands of their work.
As time flew by, a somber cloud hung over the team as they grappled with the shocking news of Park Jiheon's sentencing to 30 years in prison. The evidence had revealed his involvement in the murder not only of Kang Hyejin but also of his own wife years ago.
Their resilient team leader, Jeon Wonwoo, remained resolute in his determination to guide Unit 8th toward leading the Criminal and Violence Divisions in the future. With unwavering support from his team members, they had earned the trust of the Chief Inspector, resulting in an influx of challenging cases. However, one mystery still eluded them: the connection between Kang Hyejin and other victims linked to JJ Label. Jang Junghyuk, the enigmatic producer of the label, found himself under the team's scrutiny, but his alibi remained airtight, frustrating their efforts.
"Cheers!" echoed throughout the bustling samgyeopsal restaurant, as the members of your group raised their glasses in unison. The warm glow of camaraderie filled the air as you all sat together, indulging in delicious food and drink. The hours passed by in a blur of laughter and stories.
In this lively setting, your attention was drawn to Wonwoo, who sat directly in front of you. With a bottle of soju in hand, he took charge of pouring his own drink, while a mischievous smile danced on his lips. You couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and gratitude as you reached for the bottle and poured a generous serving into his glass. He met your gaze with a look of appreciation, a silent acknowledgment of your gesture, before savoring the drink.
Suddenly, a vivid memory from the past rushed into your consciousness. It was a memory of you and Wonwoo during your early days, back when he had been your mentor. He had been a strict senior, pushing you to excel, but he never failed to show appreciation whenever you achieved something remarkable. Your mind wandered back to your very first team dinner, held in this very same restaurant. You had been celebrating the successful resolution of a case involving the dismantling of a human trafficking ring, masterminded by Yang Saeguk after he had finally found his purpose in life, a life sentence.
The striking difference was that, during that memorable dinner, Wonwoo had sat right beside you. He had been your shield, protecting you from the senior members who had attempted to get you intoxicated that evening. It was a gesture that had spoken volumes about the bond between you and the unspoken trust that had grown over the months.
As the conversation inside the restaurant continued, Lieutenant Choi, the team leader, held everyone's attention. It was in this moment that Wonwoo leaned in and whispered softly to you, suggesting a break to enjoy some fresh air.
"You want to go outside?" He asked.
You both slipped out of the bustling restaurant and embarked on a quiet walk nearby.
Under the serene night sky, Wonwoo began to ask you about your personal life, and during the course of the conversation, a revelation slipped out: you were the daughter of Ji Namhyuk, the Commissioner of the department. You tried to convey that you had earned your position through your own hard work, but you couldn't deny the fact that your father's influence might have played a role.
Wonwoo, opening up in return, shared that he had a sister your age. He admitted that every time he looked at you, you reminded him of his sister, which had made it easy for him to form a close bond with you.
He continued, his voice laced with sincerity, "But you have your own charms. You're a quick thinker, a great negotiator, and a potential profiler." His words held a warmth that reassured you, giving you a renewed sense of confidence.
"You want to go outside?" A very same question was asked again. But now in present.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to push aside the overwhelming emotions stirred by this conversation. Wonwoo had once been a respected sunbae (senior) and had managed to break down the walls of reserve you had initially held. As you walked together under the night sky, you couldn't help but appreciate the unique connection that had grown between you two, and it was all gone years ago.
As you and Wonwoo stepped outside the restaurant for that impromptu walk, a mixture of emotions swirled within you. It had been a long time since you had seen each other, and now, fate had brought you back together on the same team. The bond you once shared as mentor and mentee had the potential to grow stronger in this new chapter of your professional lives.
Amidst the soft glow of streetlights, Wonwoo couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him. He smiled warmly at you and asked a familiar question, one that he had often posed when you were just a rookie. "How's your progress, Y/n?" His tone held a sense of genuine interest and encouragement.
You couldn't help but smile in response, feeling the familiarity of the moment wash over you. "I've been learning a lot and working hard. Thanks to your guidance back in the past, Sunbae." you replied, your voice reflecting the dedication that had brought you to this point and genuine grateful to him.
Wonwoo's curiosity extended to the rest of the team. "What do you think about Detective Seo?" he inquired, referring to one of your senior colleagues. You thought for a moment and answered, "Detective Seo is a very reliable senior. His experience and knowledge have been invaluable in guiding me."
He then asked about Hansol, another member of the team. "And Hansol?" You considered Hansol's personality and replied, "Hansol is on the calmer side, but he's an astute observer. I think he has the potential to become a great profiler someday."
Next on Wonwoo's list was Seungkwan. "How about Seungkwan?" You chuckled and said, "Seungkwan is a very hardworking junior. He's also quite athletic, which makes him great company when we're out in the field."
Finally, Wonwoo turned his attention to Hyunjin, the rookie of the team. "And what's your take on Hyunjin?"
You grinned playfully, "Well, Hyunjin still has a lot to learn, but he's got a great sense of humor. I think he'll bring some much-needed laughter to the team."
Wonwoo's smile grew warmer as he listened to your answers, his pride evident in his eyes. "You're growing up a lot, Y/n. As a person and as a police officer, and I'm so proud of it."
He then pointed out something that held significant meaning in the world of law enforcement. "I had been mentoring you for two years. Look at you now; you've earned your second stripe," he remarked, referring to the symbol of your ten-year service.
You stopped in your tracks, allowing a few steps of space to form between you and Wonwoo before speaking your mind. "I'm not the same girl from eight years ago, sunbae. These kinds of words won't affect me anymore," you confidently declared, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
Wonwoo chuckled softly at your boldness, and he turned his body to continue the walk, leaving you there, flushed with a mix of shyness and nostalgia. "I know," he said over his shoulder, his voice carrying a touch of fondness. "That's why I've always liked you." His words lingered in the air, and you found yourself unable to contain your smile. In this cold night, there's a warmth that you couldn't quite put into words.
*
In the days following the team dinner, your investigative unit had set its sights on a mysterious building that had drawn attention due to reports of illicit activities. The intel suggested it was a possible hub for prostitution, but the details remained murky. A local resident had come forward, claiming to have witnessed women being forcibly taken into the building from cars, sparking your team's interest.
Seungkwan and Hansol had taken on the daring task of going undercover, posing as customers to gather crucial information from within the establishment. As they emerged from the building, their expressions were visibly perturbed, but their fellow team members couldn't help but chuckle at their less-than-convincing acting efforts.
Amid the laughter, Hansol broke the silence with a disconcerting revelation. "I don't think they're just running your typical prostitution business in there," he confessed, his tone weighed down with concern. "It seems like they're offering something more, Sunbae. Have you ever heard of 'superior IVF'?"
The mention of those words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn't help but whisper in disbelief, "No way..." The gravity of the situation had suddenly escalated beyond what anyone had expected. This was far from a straightforward investigation.
Eager to delve deeper into this enigma, you turned your attention to Seungkwan, who handed you a business card that read "JCare." It was a pivotal lead, and your investigative instincts kicked into high gear. Determined to uncover the truth, you swiftly instructed Hyunjin to initiate a thorough background check on JCare and its key personnel.
"Is IVF means egg donor?" Wonwoo asked, his brow furrowing with concern, and you nodded in response. "I think they're not only running a prostitution business but also involved in women trafficking," he speculated.
Detective Seo, always composed and analytical, chimed in, "We need to gather more information about this business to build a solid case against them."
As your team continued discussing JCare and the mysterious activities within, a deeper and darker picture began to emerge. JCare, it appeared, was no ordinary business. It was a clandestine operation offering a range of illicit services, including prostitution, the sale of women's eggs, and illegal organ donation.
The troubling part was that information about the sources and suppliers of these services remained elusive. It posed a significant challenge to your investigation, as uncovering the origins and intricacies of JCare's operations was crucial to dismantling the entire network.
"We need to get inside their operation," Detective Seo concluded, his mind working quickly to devise a plan. "How about another undercover operation, a carefully prepared one? We could pose as a couple interested in obtaining 'superior IVF,'" he suggested.
Hyunjin and Seungkwan seemed intrigued by the idea. Seungkwan chimed in, "That way, we can gather more data about their victims. They might even show us profiles of potential egg donors," he said as he scrolled through JCare's website.
The question of who would play the undercover couple's roles hung in the air, and Detective Seo's gaze fell upon you. "No!" you protested, met with objections from Hyunjin, Seungkwan, and Senior Detective Seo Taekwang. "You're the only woman on our team, Detective Ji," Taekwang pointed out.
Hansol raised the question of who would play the husband, and you interjected with a resolute "absolutely not!" when Taekwang named was mentioned. Hyunjin supported your protest, but it led to an unexpected slap from Taekwang after he humorously reasoned that you wouldn't want to marry someone who looked like Detective Seo.
With no other options in sight, all eyes turned to Jeon Wonwoo. He had remained silent, seemingly lost in thought until he suddenly became the center of attention. Clearing his throat, he began, "We can explore alternative plans, perhaps—"
Before he could continue, Hyunjin swiftly suggested, "Captain Jeon could be the husband." The idea hung in the air for a moment, and Wonwoo blinked, clearly taken aback by the unexpected proposal. The room awaited his response, and it seemed that the team was inching closer to a risky, yet potentially crucial, operation.
*
Hyunjin couldn't help but comment on the outward appearance of you and Wonwoo, observing your attire and the aura you both exuded. "You guys do look like a rich couple," he remarked, noticing the branded items and the air of affluence that seemed to surround you. It was an essential element to make the JCare staff believe you could afford their high-end services.
Taekwang added with a mischievous grin, "Let's practice holding hands!" His suggestion was met with a protest from you. "It's not like I've never held a man's hand before," you reasoned, attempting to downplay the situation.
Taekwang chuckled, his laughter echoing in the room. "Really? You've been working so diligently to earn those two stripes and that Detective 3 badge you have. You never seem to have time for dating," he commented, a knowing look in his eyes.
His words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but pout, unable to deny the truth in his statement. The path you had chosen had demanded dedication and commitment, leaving little room for personal relationships. Wonwoo, as the reliable partner, gladly reached out and held your hand as you practiced the motions of a seemingly affectionate couple. He looked at you with a hint of amusement and asked, "Am I doing a good job, babe?"
A soft smile tugged at your lips, appreciating his professionalism and adaptability. "You're doing great, honey," you replied, practicing the affectionate nicknames that would help sell your cover as Mr. and Mrs. Kim.
As you and Wonwoo drove to JCare, you continued rehearsing your roles and discussing the details of your mission. Analyzing the services JCare offered, the sources of their operations, their target market, and the individuals who might be behind this dark enterprise became paramount. Hyunjin had planted listening devices on both of you to discreetly record every conversation you would have with Dr. Park Jinah, the person who would assist you once you arrived at JCare.
With each passing moment, the weight of the mission grew, but you and Wonwoo were determined to unravel the secrets behind JCare's operations. Under the guise of Mr. and Mrs. Kim, a prosperous couple seeking superior DNA for their future child, you approached your destination, ready to delve into the heart of the enigma.
Seated in the tastefully decorated room at JCare, you and Wonwoo started your act as Mr. And Mrs. Kim, portraying a wealthy couple with a fervent desire for superior genetic traits in their future child. "We're very interested in ensuring that our child has exceptional DNA," you began, your tone measured and earnest. "Both of us, Mr. Kim and I, are aware that we don't have strong intellectual genes, but we want our child to be intelligent."
Dr. Park, a picture of professionalism, nodded and smiled in response. "Many couples come to JCare with similar aspirations. We specialize in providing top-notch genetic services."
Wonwoo joined the conversation, further solidifying your cover story. "Our friends highly recommended this place. They spoke very highly of your services."
Dr. Park's satisfaction was evident, and she proceeded to share profiles of potential egg donors with you. These women came from diverse backgrounds, ranging from working professionals to college students and even a high schooler. As you perused the profiles, your heart skipped a beat when you encountered a familiar name – Kang Hyejin. She was unmistakably one of the victims in the gruesome murder case involving Park Jiheon.
Despite the shock that coursed through you, you managed to keep your composure and asked to see more details about Kang Hyejin. "Could you provide us with more information about this particular donor, Kang Hyejin?"
Dr. Park's reaction was a brief hesitation, but she eventually complied. "Ah, Kang Hyejin. She's a truly remarkable young woman. She boasts a strong educational background and excellent health."
You exchanged a knowing glance with Wonwoo as you continued to feign interest, all the while trying to suppress the dread that threatened to consume you. "We're very interested in her genetic traits," Wonwoo stated with practiced enthusiasm, hoping that his eagerness wouldn't arouse any suspicion.
However, Dr. Park's response sent a palpable chill down your spine. "I'm afraid Kang Hyejin is currently out of the country, and she won't be available for several weeks."
Your mind raced as you processed this newfound information. Kang Hyejin, the girl who had met such a tragic end, was undeniably connected to JCare. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both you and Wonwoo, and in that fleeting moment of silence, you silently acknowledged that this case had taken a much darker and more ominous turn.
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The entire 8th unit stood in stunned disbelief as they traced the red line, connecting the dots of a horrifying revelation. A shiver ran down your spine, the chilling truth finally coming to light. The evidence pointed to a sinister connection between the deceased JJ Label trainees and JCare, both ensnared in a web of exploitation and deception.
The breakthrough came through an exhaustive joint investigation with journalist Park Hyebin, who had met Kang Hyejin mere days before her tragic demise in the lake. It unraveled a harrowing tale of coercion and manipulation, revealing how girls from the label were coerced into serving the interests of the Jung Group, a business empire presided over by the affluent and influential Jung Seokpa.
The promises of a debut were nothing more than a cruel facade, a hollow enticement used to ensnare these young women. Instead of stepping into the spotlight, they vanished, conveniently reported as being 'out of the country,' leaving their dreams shattered.
The involvement of Jung Jaehyung, the heir of the Jung legacy, along with his cousins, Jung Junghyuk and Yoo Taesuk, added a grim dimension to the case. The revelation that Park Jiheon, Yang Jerry, and Kim Bomjae were the perpetrators sent shockwaves through the unit.
"We've discovered that Jung Jaehyung had a history of being hospitalized, a near-drowning incident in the water. Subsequently, the family doctor identified sociopathic traits in Jaehyung," you relayed, your voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and apprehension. The depth of the darkness surrounding this case was beyond comprehension. All make sense on why every victim was founded near the bodies of water.
Meanwhile, Jeon Wonwoo, their team leader, abruptly left the room, leaving the rest of the team in a state of confusion as they diligently worked on their reports, seeking pursuit permission. You gave a subtle signal for them to continue while you decided to go after him.
A short walk led you to the station's back yard, where you found Wonwoo seated, his head bowed and shoulders trembling with emotion. You stood a few feet behind him, allowing him his moment of privacy. The distance between you two made it seem as though you were invisible to him. You watched as he released his pent-up feelings, allowing the weight on his shoulders to be carried by the solitude.
Once he composed himself, you approached him silently. His glasses, dropped and forgotten in the turmoil of his emotions, rested on the ground. You gently picked them up, careful not to disrupt his fragile state. As you handed him his glasses, he turned to you, surprise evident in his eyes. He quickly wiped away any lingering tears, attempting to regain his composure.
Wonwoo's gaze held a mix of surprise and gratitude as he took back his glasses. "What brings you here?" he inquired, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.
You remained silent for a moment, simply looking at him, feeling the weight of the moment. Finally, you took a seat beside him, the gravity of the conversation settling between you. "Sunbae," you began, your tone gentle yet serious, "I need to tell you about Jeon Wonhee."
His brow furrowed in slight confusion, clearly not expecting this topic. He listened attentively as you explained that you found out Jeon Wonhee was his sister as you have worked on the case. "Her situation was different," you continued, your voice steady. "She was in a relationship with Yoo Taesuk, but she discovered he was cheating on her. When she confronted him, it escalated, and she was stabbed by Taesuk. That's why she was the only one found with stab wounds, while the others were drowned."
Wonwoo's expression shifted, a mix of relief and sorrow crossing his features. It was a heavy revelation, finally uncovering the truth about his sister's tragic fate. "Thank you for telling me," he said sincerely. "I've been searching for answers for so long."
He sighed, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice. "Losing the evidence against Taesuk all those years ago... it's been a weight on my shoulders. Why did it have to take eight years to finally find the person responsible?"
You could sense the frustration and regret in his words, understanding the long and difficult journey he had been on to seek justice for his sister. As you revealed the truth about the lost evidence from eight years ago, a palpable guilt settled within you. You couldn't shake the weight of being one of the reasons why justice had been delayed for so long. Taking a deep breath, you turned to Wonwoo, your expression filled with remorse.
"Sunbae," you began, your voice tinged with regret. "When i was the one assigned to find the knife that was used to kill Jeon Wonhee, i worked tirelessly. Eventually, I tracked it down to a knife seller near the river. He claimed to have a knife with blood on it and had been holding onto it, just in case."
You continued, the weight of the memory pressing on you. "I sent it to the forensic lab, and I was certain we had the evidence we needed. Yoo Taesuk's fingerprints and DNA were a match, 100%. But then... it disappeared. The forensic team wouldn't give me another copy of the results, citing orders from my father."
Wonwoo's eyes was filled with emotions. "Your father... Ji Commissioner, he ordered us to stop the investigation." he murmured, putting the pieces together. He looked at you, his expression a mix of anger and inquiry. "You couldn't confront him.." He said.
You nodded, your gaze fixed on the ground. "Yes. I haven't had any communication with him for almost eight years, ever since I was transferred out of the team." You paused, steeling yourself for what you needed to say next. "But, since then i began to suspect that there might be a connection between Yoo Taesuk and my father. I couldn't shake the feeling that my own father may have been involved in covering up the truth."
Wonwoo's shock was evident, his eyes wide with realization. He had assumed you were in cahoots with your father, but now he found out the depth of your conflict.
Wonwoo's eyes were filled with a mix of curiosity and concern as he asked, "Why haven't you talked to your father in all these years?"
A surge of emotions welled up within you, making it difficult to find the right words. Finally, you spoke, your voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and vulnerability. "I... I've been afraid. Afraid that if I confront my father, if I find out that he's truly involved in hiding a crime... it would shatter everything I know. The idea of facing that reality... it terrifies me."
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I couldn't bear the thought of my own father, someone I should be able to trust, being capable of such a thing. It's been easier to keep my distance, to try to find the truth on my own."
Wonwoo's expression softened, his understanding gaze meeting yours. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you," he said gently.
There was a brief pause, the weight of the moment settling around you both, before Wonwoo finally spoke again. His voice was gentle, laced with a sincerity that touched your heart. "Y/n, I need to apologize. I've been emotional and oversensitive in the past, especially when it came to this case. I realize now that my actions and words may have left a bad impression of me, and for that, I'm truly sorry."
He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on the ground, as if gathering his thoughts. "Losing a chance to bring the person who took my sister's life to justice... it's been a constant ache in my heart. It felt so unfair, just because she wasn't someone with power, and I wasn't either. It's haunted me for years."
He turned to you, his gaze sincere and vulnerable. "The things I said to you that day... I regret them. I was being childish and emotional. It's a flaw of mine, how my feelings can often lead me to overreact. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Y/n."
His apology hung in the air, filled with a raw honesty that resonated deeply. The weight of past grievances seemed to lift. As the night enveloped you both, a sense of quiet understanding settled in the air. The moon cast a gentle glow, illuminating the world with a soft, silvery light. The atmosphere was hushed, as if nature itself was holding its breath, allowing this moment of reconciliation to unfold. There was an unspoken connection between you and Wonwoo, forged through years of shared pain and the pursuit of justice. The weight of past misunderstandings and hurts seemed to dissipate, replaced by a newfound sense of empathy and compassion. The night seemed to hold a certain kind of magic, a bittersweet beauty that whispered of healing and redemption.
You spoke gently, your words carrying the weight of your own experiences. "I felt unfair, but I understand now. I would do the same if something like that happened to my family." The sincerity in your voice resonated in the stillness of the night.
You looked at him and smiled, "i forgive you."
Wonwoo listened, his gaze fixed on you. There was a vulnerability in his expression, a raw openness that he rarely showed. The air seemed to crackle with a subtle electricity, as if the universe itself acknowledged the significance of this moment.
Then, he returned the smile, his eyes filled with gratitude and a touch of relief. "Thank you, Y/n. I can't tell you how much your forgiveness means to me."
As you looked at each other, bathed in the moonlight, there was a silent acknowledgment of the shared journey you had embarked upon. The night held a sense of possibility, a promise of closure.
Wonwoo's hand hesitated for a moment, before gently finding its place in yours. His palm met yours, fingers intertwining, a silent promise conveyed through the touch. "Let's do this together," he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion, "Let's find out the truth together."
A warm rush of gratitude and determination washed over you, radiating from your clasped hands. You met his gaze, a smile blooming on your lips, carrying the weight of shared purpose.
In that moment, beneath the gentle night sky, a bond was solidified. It was a promise of solidarity, a pledge to seek justice, and a testament to the strength that could be found in unity.
The two of you instinctively leaned in, embracing one another. It was a hug that held layers of meaning—support, comfort, and a shared resolve to face the challenges ahead. In that moment, beneath the quiet expanse of the night sky, you both found solace in the understanding that you were no longer alone in your pursuit of truth.
*
You found yourself standing in front of your parents' house, a place you hadn't set foot in for eight long years. The maid, a familiar face from your past, was visibly shaken by your sudden appearance. The story of your abrupt departure and vow never to return had become something of legend in this household, and your unexpected visit sent ripples of surprise through its walls.
Stepping through the threshold, you were met with the scent of familiar surroundings and the echoes of distant memories. Your mother, equally taken aback by your presence, greeted you with a mix of astonishment and concern.
"I need to meet Dad," you stated, your tone tinged with a simmering anger. She moved to invite you to sit and talk, a motherly instinct to understand, but you refused. "It's work related," you added, choosing your words carefully. You hinted at your father's potential candidacy for the position of national commissioner, a piece of information that carried weight in this household.
The tension in the air was palpable, a silent undercurrent beneath the surface. Your mother, caught between concern for your well-being and the gravity of the situation, nodded in reluctant understanding. There was a complex history between you, your father, and this house, one that had remained unresolved for far too long.
As you prepared to face the man who held such influence in your life, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the past pressing upon you.
You entered his office, the familiar scent of polished wood and papers filling the air. His eyes flicked up from the document he was studying, momentarily surprised at your presence. You saluted him, a formal gesture that seemed incongruous in the face of your own father.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, masking any deeper emotions he might be feeling. "I'm not the National Commissioner yet," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood. His surprise was thinly veiled, but he quickly regained his composure.
Without much preamble, you handed him the report you had painstakingly prepared. It was a straightforward account, outlining the relationship between your father, the owner of Jung Group, and their support for him. It also contained evidence of his involvement in tampering with a murder case.
"Where did you get this? Yoon Jeonghan himself?" he inquired, his tone grating on your nerves, as if he wasn't directly involved in the injustice that had plagued your past.
You closed your eyes, struggling to reconcile the betrayal of someone you had considered a friend, a partner in justice. Jeonghan had listened to your pain, all the while knowing the truth. It was a wound that cut deep.
"I found it on my own," you replied, your voice steady, though your heart pounded in your chest.
His smile was self-assured. "Impressive. When you mentioned wanting to follow in my footsteps as a police officer, I admit I had my doubts. But I've heard nothing but praise about your work. Perhaps you'd like to be a captain once I assume the role of National Commissioner?"
You took a deep breath, disbelief washing over you. "We're discussing a police officer who manipulated proof and let a murderer of someone else's daughter go free," you emphasized, your voice tinged with frustration. "I understand you care more about your career and social standing than your family, but have you ever considered what if it were me?"
His response was callous, focusing on the perceived greater good. "I did it for the sake of the police force's reputation and for your own position. You could have faced charges for attempting to imprison someone without evidence. I prevented that from happening. I know you've worked hard to get to where you are."
There was a weighted silence before you spoke, determination filling your voice. "It's good that you recognize my hard work. I suggest you confess your mistakes before I expose this to the public and you find yourself in handcuffs."
"Watch your tongue! You're putting yourself in danger. Jung Group is not someone you could play with," he warned.
"It was you who played with fire first. Allow me to handle the heat on my own terms, since you chose not to heed my warning," you retorted before turning on your heel and leaving the house. The weight of your decision hung in the air, a sense of finality settling over you.
As you stepped out of the house, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within you. Anger, frustration, and a simmering determination coursed through your veins. The confrontation with your father had dredged up years of pent-up resentment, and the knowledge of his betrayal stung like a fresh wound.
Yet, beneath the anger, there was a steely resolve. You had faced the truth, confronted your father, and made it clear that you would not stand idly by. The weight of the evidence you held felt both empowering and burdensome. It was a double-edged sword, a weapon that could potentially bring justice, but also a dangerous tool that could upend your own life.
As you walked away from the house, the night seemed to echo your conflicted emotions. The air was heavy with the weight of your decision, and each step felt like a declaration of independence. The streets were quiet, a stark contrast to the storm raging within you.
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision and threatening to spill over. They were a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of loss. Each tear seemed to carry the weight of years of betrayal and the realization that someone you had trusted so deeply had let you down. Your cheeks glistened with the tracks of your tears, a silent testament to the depth of your emotion. They were a raw, unfiltered expression of the pain that had been stirred up by your confrontation with your father. The ache in your chest seemed to radiate with each heart-wrenching sob, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within you.
Your breath came in shuddering gasps, the intensity of your feelings threatening to overwhelm you. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a torrent of pent-up emotions that had been held back for far too long. Each sob seemed to echo in the stillness of the night, a haunting melody of sorrow. In that vulnerable moment, you were both fragile and strong. The tears were a cathartic release, a necessary step in the process of healing and moving forward.
As the tears still clung to your lashes, you fumbled for your phone, fingers trembling slightly. It took a moment, but you mustered the courage to dial Wonwoo's number. There was a hesitation in your voice when he answered, a weight of emotion that seemed to choke your words.
"Sunbae," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I met my father." You paused, the enormity of the situation settling heavily in your chest.
There was a brief silence on the other end, and then Wonwoo's voice, calm and steady, filled your ear. "Y/n, take your time. You don't have to explain anything you're not ready to."
But you needed to. The truth had been bottled up for too long, and it was a relief to finally have someone to share it with. You spoke of the betrayal, the shock of discovering your father's involvement, and the pain that had surged through you. You apologized several times, as if you needed to ask for forgiveness for something that was never your fault.
"I'm so sorry, Sunbae. I'm so sorry." You confessed, your voice cracking with vulnerability.
He listened patiently, offering you the space to unburden yourself. And when you were finished, he simply said, "Where are you? I'm coming to you."
You gave him your location, and within what felt like minutes, you saw his familiar figure approaching. He enveloped you in a comforting embrace, his presence a balm to your wounded soul.
"I'm proud of you, Y/n," he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring. "For being honest with me, and for facing this head-on."
In that moment, you realized that you and Wonwoo were not just partners in the field, but true allies in life's struggles. He shared his own vulnerabilities, the challenges he faced as a police officer, and the weight of responsibility he carried. It was a rare and precious connection, built on trust and understanding.
As you stood there, in the embrace of someone who truly understood, you felt a renewed sense of strength. You were not alone in this battle. With Wonwoo by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.
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The pace of events was dizzying, culminating in the sentencing of everyone implicated in the Jcare trafficking scheme, with Jung Jaehyung facing justice for his central role. Capturing evidence against Jaehyung had been a formidable challenge, given the immense power wielded by his influential father. The reluctance of others to testify against Jaehyung created a seemingly impenetrable fortress of silence, until Wonwoo proposed a daring undercover operation to compel Jaehyung's confession. The stakes were high, prompting contemplation of alternative plans, but you were resolute in your determination to see Jaehyung held accountable.
The mission's objective was clear: obtain a confession from Jung Jaehyung. After exhaustive brainstorming, a crucial insight emerged. It was discovered that Jaehyung had a penchant for intelligent and empathetic women—a preference borne from the shadow of his teenage years and the enigmatic figure of his psychiatrist, who had been one of his earliest victims. Jaehyung had been a prime suspect in her murder at the age of 17. Yet, he had walked free due to insufficient evidence and a well-crafted alibi from his driver, who claimed to have been with him in another city at the time of her death.
The intensity of the operation was unparalleled in your decade-long career as a police officer. The memory of Jaehyung's hands closing around your neck, the desperate struggle for breath when he discovered your true identity, remained vivid. In that raw moment, he had unwittingly revealed his involvement in the deaths of each Jcare victim.
"I just wanted them to be silent, but you know how women are, always talking. So I drowned them."
The struggle for your life was a desperate race against time, every gasp for air a fierce battle against the hands that sought to silence you. Finally breaking free from his suffocating grip, you stared into Jaehyung's eyes, terror mingling with defiance. In that charged moment, you found your voice, attempting to reach the flicker of humanity buried within his darkened soul.
"Jaehyung, I've always believed there's goodness in you," you rasped, the words a plea for him to see reason.
His response, however, was a chilling reminder of the depths to which his darkness had consumed him. The gun in his hand, its cold steel a stark contrast to the warmth of life, was pointed directly at you. Frozen in place, your gaze held his, seeking any hint of the boy he had once been.
"I always thought your mother believed in that goodness, in your capacity to love," you murmured, your voice edged with sorrow.
"You're not your father, Jaehyung. You've proven that through your own accomplishments, your own path," you continued, hoping to reach the fractured soul before you.
His bitter chuckle echoed through the room, the sound a discordant symphony of anguish and despair. "If I'm truly good, then why can't I stop this darkness within me? Why can't I stop killing?"
You spoke gently, offering a lifeline to a wounded soul. "Controlling your emotions is a monumental task, especially when they've never been validated. It's hard to be honest with yourself when your heart has been denied its truth."
"What do you feel right now, Jaehyung?" You asked gently, trying to spend time as you wait your team to come.
With a voice laced with turmoil, Jaehyung confessed, "I'm angry. Furious that you've lied to me. My heart is pounding, urging me to end you, to submerge you in the very bathtub just steps away."
A pregnant pause followed, your senses on high alert. "Is that what you truly want? To extinguish a life, to silence a heart forever? Will it bring you the peace you seek, or will it only leave you with a void stained by regret?"
"Fuck!" He roared, the anguish in his voice echoing through the room. The gun drew nearer, its cold gaze unwavering. "No one comprehends the exhilaration, the release that comes with snuffing out their last breath. Don't presume to understand."
In the haunting seconds that followed, the echo of a gunshot shattered the stillness, followed by the searing pain of a bullet tearing through your body. Darkness claimed your senses, the world fading away as the abyss welcomed you.
*
The chaos and urgency gripped the team as they raced towards your location, their senses heightened by the gravity of the situation. Wonwoo's heart pounded in his chest, anxiety clawing at him, as he navigated through the frenzied traffic. He had overheard your conversation with Jaehyung, having planted a listening device during your previous therapy session. The decision to let you confront Jaehyung alone had been met with his vehement opposition, sensing the peril in allowing you to face a man with such a dark history on your own.
As Hyunjin relayed the news of the escalating danger, Wonwoo's heart sank. Time was slipping away, urging him to move faster. Arriving at the building, he displayed his credentials to the security team, urgency etched on his face. With swift precision, he directed his team to position themselves, preparing for the confrontation ahead.
Then, a call from Hyunjin shattered the air, carrying with it the weight of your peril. Wonwoo's heart seized in his chest, the dread threatening to engulf him. "Captain! We need to capture Jung Jaehyung. Y/n sunbae was being shot by a gun."
Without hesitation, Wonwoo and his team stormed into the office, the deafening silence broken only by the pounding of their footsteps. A gunshot rang out, the sound cutting through the tension, followed by Jaehyung's pained groan. He was swiftly subdued, the handcuffs securing his hands.
Wonwoo's eyes met Jaehyung's, a mixture of fury and anguish. He could see the blood staining Jaehyung's trembling hands, a cruel testament to the violence that had unfolded. But his focus swiftly shifted as Hansol provided the crucial information about your location.
With a fierce determination, Wonwoo sprinted towards the bathroom, his breath ragged. The sight that met him was a cruel tableau of despair. Your body lay in the bathtub, water lapping at your still form, a gunshot wound marring your shoulder.
"Call the medic!" Wonwoo instructed Hansol as Hansol following it, explaining the situation to the medic on the phone.
Acting on instinct, Wonwoo hoisted you from the water, the icy shock of it biting at him. He laid you gently on the floor, his hands moving with practiced urgency. Checking for signs of life, he could feel the icy grip of fear tightening around his heart. He wasted no time, initiating CPR and delivering rescue breaths.
"Wake up, Y/n," he pleaded, each compression a desperate plea for your return. Time seemed to blur, every second stretching into eternity as he fought to pull you back from the precipice. His focus was unyielding, his soul tethered to yours, willing you to come back to him.
The room seemed to close in around them, time stretched thin as the battle for your life raged on. Wonwoo's efforts were valiant, each compression and rescue breath delivered with a precision borne of training and desperation. Yet, your eyes remained closed, the cruel silence of unconsciousness a painful testament to the gravity of the situation.
Exhaustion clawed at Wonwoo, his breaths labored, but he pressed on, refusing to yield. Then, like a lifeline, Hansol swiftly took over, trading places with Wonwoo to continue the vital compressions. The rhythm was unbroken, a symphony of desperate hope and fierce determination.
In the midst of the struggle, a haunting memory tore through Wonwoo's mind. The loss of his junior five years ago, a wound that had never truly healed, rose to the surface. He had been so immersed in capturing the culprit that he hadn't noticed his partner, his loyal junior, succumbing to a gunshot wound, the life seeping from him as they waited for help that arrived too late.
The memory weighed heavily on Wonwoo, a haunting echo of a past he couldn't forget. In that moment, the room around him seemed to blur, the present and the past intertwining in a cruel twist of fate. He felt the weight of his responsibility, not just as a detective, but as a protector of those he cared about.
Wonwoo's voice, laced with urgency and dread, cut through the air. "Where is the medic?!" His eyes never left your form, his hand applying steady pressure to your shoulder, a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all.
The sounds of the room became muffled, a distant buzz in his ears as he focused on you, on the life hanging in the balance. He couldn't afford to lose you, not after everything you'd been through together. His movements became more determined, each compression a silent promise that he wouldn't let history repeat itself.
As he worked tirelessly, he couldn't help but pray silently, a plea to whatever force governed life and death. This time, he vowed, he wouldn't let the darkness claim someone he cared about. His hands moved with a fierce urgency, a silent promise to you and to himself that he would fight for your survival with every ounce of his being.
*
The sterile scent of the hospital room seemed to permeate every corner, a reminder of the seriousness of the situation. Wonwoo sat by your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form, willing for any sign of movement.
The surgery had been a success, and the doctors had assured him that you were on the path to recovery. Yet, seeing you in this state, connected to monitors and surrounded by the hum of machines, was a stark reminder of just how close he had come to losing you.
He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor provided a steady backdrop to the quiet, a reminder that you were still here, still fighting.
Minutes felt like hours, each passing second filled with a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. Wonwoo couldn't help but let his mind drift, his thoughts racing through the events that had led to this moment. The mission, the confrontation with Jaehyung, and the terrifying moment when he had received the call about your condition - it all seemed like a blur.
And then, finally, there was a shift. Your eyelids fluttered, a sign that consciousness was returning. Wonwoo's heart skipped a beat, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle and filled with relief. "Y/n, can you hear me?"
Your eyes slowly opened, and for a moment, they seemed to search the room, as if trying to make sense of where you were. Then, they settled on Wonwoo, a flicker of recognition in your gaze. It was a small yet significant victory, a sign that you were coming back to him.
He couldn't help but smile, the weight that had settled in his chest since that fateful moment in Jaehyung's office finally beginning to lift. "You had us worried there," he admitted softly. "But you're strong. You made it through."
As you gradually emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, the sterile scent of the hospital room enveloped you. The soft beeping of the monitors provided a steady rhythm, grounding you in the present moment. Wonwoo's presence was a reassuring anchor. His voice reached you, gentle and filled with concern, asking if you could hear him. You turned your gaze towards him, finding comfort in his familiar face.He spoke with a mix of relief and tenderness, updating you on what had transpired. You absorbed the information, piece by piece, trying to make sense of the events that had led you here. As he recounted the mission, the confrontation with Jaehyung, and the moments that followed, you felt a surge of gratitude towards the man sitting beside you. He had been there, every step of the way, unwavering in his support.
The hospital room was bathed in the gentle glow of muted lamplight, casting a serene ambiance. The scent of antiseptic lingered faintly in the air, a reminder of the sterile environment. Machines hummed softly in the background, their rhythmic melodies providing a steady cadence to the room.
You nestled in the hospital bed, the sheets cocooning you in their crisp embrace. The warmth of the blankets provided a sense of security, a stark contrast to the harrowing ordeal you had just endured. Your gaze was fixed on the window, where the night sky held its own secrets, distant stars blinking in silent solidarity.
Beside you, Wonwoo sat in vigilant watch, his presence a steadfast anchor. His eyes held a mixture of relief and concern, a reflection of the tumultuous events that had unfolded. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support.
You took a deep breath, the scent of the hospital giving way to the familiar scent of Wonwoo's cologne. It was a grounding force, a reminder that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, you found the courage to share your innermost fears.
"I was so scared, Wonwoo," your voice broke the quietude, a tremor betraying the weight of the memory. "When Jaehyung dragged me to that bathroom after he shot me... it felt like the world was closing in."
Wonwoo's arms enveloped you, his embrace offering both solace and strength. His voice, soft yet firm, spoke words of reassurance. "You're safe now, Y/n. You don't have to carry that fear alone. I'm here for you, always."
His words were a lifeline, pulling you back from the precipice of darkness. In that embrace, you found a sanctuary—a space where vulnerability was met with unwavering support. As you rested against him, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in tandem with your own.
As you nestled in his embrace, the weight of the past events began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of security and trust. Wonwoo's presence was a steady anchor, grounding you in the present, assuring you that you were not alone in this journey.
With a sigh, you leaned into him, finding solace in his warmth. "Thank you" you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "For being here, for... for everything."
Wonwoo's hand gently stroked your back, a gesture of comfort and understanding. "You don't need to thank me, Y/n," he replied, his tone gentle yet resolute.
The words settled around you like a protective cloak, wrapping you in a sense of belonging. In Wonwoo's arms, you felt seen and valued, your emotions honored and acknowledged. It was a rare and precious connection, one that went beyond the bounds of partnership.
The minutes ticked by in a comfortable silence, each breath a reminder of the resilience that had brought you to this moment. Outside, the world carried on, but within the confines of that hospital room, it felt as though time stood still.
The warmth of Wonwoo's embrace and the steady rise and fall of your breaths provided a sense of security that was both grounding and reassuring. Your eyes locked to each other and slowly closed as you leaned into a kiss, you could feel the tension melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. It's the electric touch of lips meeting, a gentle exploration of warmth and tenderness. As your lips gently press against each other, there's a softness that envelopes both of you, a sensation that transcends the physical and ventures into the realm of the emotional. It's a meeting of souls, an unspoken language that conveys affection, desire, and trust between you and Wonwoo. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the two of you locked in a tender embrace. It's a sensation of vulnerability, of allowing someone to get close enough to touch a part of your heart.
Eventually, the kiss was interrupted by the distant shuffle of footsteps in the corridor. It was a subtle reminder that the world continued to turn, carrying with it new challenges and triumphs. With a smile, Wonwoo shifted slightly, his gaze meeting yours.
"I should let you rest," he suggested, a trace of reluctance in his voice. "You need your strength for the road ahead."
You nodded, a mix of gratitude and weariness coloring your expression. As Wonwoo helped you settle back into the bed, you felt a renewed sense of determination coursing through you. Together, you would face whatever challenges awaited, fortified by the unbreakable bond you had forged.
As your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of calm settled over you, accompanied by the knowledge that you were not alone. Wonwoo stood vigil, a silent sentinel, his presence a beacon of reassurance in the quiet room.
And as sleep claimed you, you knew that when you awoke, you would face the future with renewed strength and unwavering resolve, guided by the steady presence of the man who had become so much more than a partner—a true confidant and a source of immeasurable strength.
*
Wonwoo couldn't believe his eyes when he walked into the office and saw you sitting there so casually. It had only been five days since the near-tragic incident, and you'd had just three days to recover from the surgery. Seeing you back at your desk with a support device for your left shoulder surprised him.
He was on the verge of expressing his relief and concern, but then Taekwang's arrival to the office, along with his obvious excitement upon seeing you, made Wonwoo decide to postpone his lecture for another time.
Wonwoo's eyes were fixed on you, a mix of relief and worry etched across his features. He couldn't believe you were sitting there so casually, only three days after your surgery. The support device on your left shoulder was a stark reminder of the ordeal you had been through.
As Hyunjin rushed in, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, Wonwoo instinctively pulled him back, sparing you from a potentially painful hug. It was clear he was being protective, though he masked it with practicality.
"Sunbaeeee!" Hyunjin's voice trembled with emotion. "I was so worried!"
You offered him a reassuring smile, understanding the depth of concern that had gripped your teammate. "I'm here, Hyunjin. I'm alright."
Wonwoo, still holding Hyunjin back, asked about Hansol and Seungkwan. It was a testament to his vigilant nature that he was already thinking about the whereabouts of the rest of the team.
"They've gone for coffee," you replied, your eyes lighting up at the thought. "I can't wait to have some too."
This statement, however, didn't sit well with Wonwoo. His brows furrowed in concern, he immediately went into protective mode. "You shouldn't be drinking coffee until you've finished your medicine. No! you shouldn't be here at least until next Monday. What are you doing here?"
His words were a blend of gentle scolding and genuine care, revealing just how much he valued your well-being. It was a side of him that you had come to appreciate, and it warmed your heart to see how much he cared.
"I just missed everyone," you admitted with a small smile, "and the hospital sent me home, but I didn't want to be alone in my apartment."
Wonwoo's concern was evident as he inquired, "How did you get here then?"
"By cab," you replied, feeling a touch of independence in your voice.
Before Hyunjin could even offer to drive you back, Wonwoo swiftly intervened, "I'll take you home, Y/n. It's not too far, right?"
You nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, sunbae. That would be great." As you looked at Wonwoo, you couldn't help but notice the subtle way he glanced around the office, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. It didn't take a detective's intuition to see that he wanted to spend more time with you.
The car ride with Wonwoo was filled with a sense of comfort and ease. You could feel the concern radiating from him, and it warmed your heart. As you shared snippets of your time at the hospital, you couldn't help but emphasize how much you had missed him.
"It was pretty lonely, you know," you admitted, glancing over at him. "Even though some officers came to keep me company, it just wasn't the same. I missed you a lot."
Wonwoo's smile was a balm to your soul, a silent reassurance that he felt the same way. The atmosphere in the car was cozy, the air filled with a sense of companionship that felt so natural.
As he drove, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for his presence. The fact that he had taken the time to personally drive you home spoke volumes. It was a gesture that made you feel cherished and valued.
Finally, as he parked the car, he turned to you, his eyes warm and gentle. "I'm glad you're safe now, Y/n. You've been through a lot," he said softly. "And now, you're finally here. For me."
His words held a tenderness that made your heart swell. You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. "Thank you, Sunbae," you replied sincerely. "I'm just glad to be back, and with you."
Without another word, he opened his arms, offering a warm embrace. It was a hug that felt like coming home, a silent affirmation of the bond that had grown between you. In that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you belonged.You settled into the embrace, feeling the steady beat of Wonwoo's heart against your own. It was a moment of quiet comfort, a reminder of the unspoken connection that had grown between you.
"Sunbae, I..." you began, but before you could finish, Wonwoo gently interrupted.
"Y/n, when it's just the two of us, can you call me something else?" he asked, his voice soft. "Something a bit more... personal?"
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, and you could see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a rare sight, one that made your heart swell with affection.
"Of course," you said, a small smile playing at your lips. "What would you like me to call you?"
He considered for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "How about... Love? Babe? Honey? Wonwoo is fine."
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Wonwoo it is then."
The two of you lingered in the embrace for a while longer, content in each other's company. Eventually, you pulled away, though the warmth of the moment still lingered.
"Thank you for everything, Wonwoo," you said sincerely. "For being there for me, for taking care of me."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt expression. "It's my pleasure, Y/n. I'll always be here for you." He leaned himself as his lips touched yours for a light but sweet peck.
"Have a rest, okay? I'll come after lunch, alright?" You nodded to his promise.
As you exited the car and made your way to your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you. You were grateful for Wonwoo, for his unwavering support and the special connection you shared. It was a feeling you knew you would carry with you, long after this moment had passed.
*
"Ya! What is this?" you inquired sharply, your voice cutting through the air. Heads turned, including Wonwoo's, all eyes focused on you. You read the words aloud, the screen casting a pale glow on your face. Boo Seungkwan's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and guilt washing over him.
"Boo Seungkwan, what on earth are you doing with this?!" Your voice thundered, carrying a weight that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Curiosity piqued, they hurried over to see what had caused such a reaction. Seungkwan, the real culprit, rushed to his computer, frantically closing the file. The title, "To The Rescue," was barely visible to the others, but for you, it stood out starkly, your name boldly etched as the main character of the fiction Seungkwan had crafted.
"What? What's wrong?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was laced with innocence, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Your gaze remained fixed on your junior, his head now lowered, eyes fixed on the floor. "Explain," you demanded, your tone firm, awaiting an account of his actions.
"It's a story I wrote..." Seungkwan's voice was barely audible, a mixture of regret and embarrassment coloring his words. He went on to explain that he had been working on a fiction piece centered around his job, wanting to incorporate a romantic element. Stuck on character names, he had decided to use yours and Wonwoo's. As he spoke, Wonwoo approached the computer and began to read the opening sentences, his expression growing more serious with each passing word.
"Boo Seungkwan, you can't do this," Wonwoo, as the team leader, advised firmly. His words held weight, carrying the authority of someone who understood the implications of such actions.
You let out a heavy sigh, pointing a finger at Seungkwan. "If I see this file on your computer by tonight, I'll delete it myself, and your career goes with it." The threat hung in the air, a stark reminder of the power dynamic at play.
You turned and left the room, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. Seungkwan's eyes pleaded with Wonwoo, silently begging for intervention. Despite being the chief's son, Seungkwan understood that your position held enough influence to shape his future, as well as Wonwoo's.
Wonwoo, too, sighed, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face. "Follow her instructions. I want you to provide me with a summary of the basic deductions, and send it to me by tomorrow morning. Vernon, ensure that our friend here carries out his punishment." Vernon nodded in agreement, his expression respectful as Wonwoo exited the room, leaving Seungkwan to grapple with the weight of his actions.
The atmosphere in the room hung heavy with tension, the repercussions of Seungkwan's impulsive decision reverberating through the air. It was a stark reminder of the importance of responsibility and the consequences that could arise from overstepping boundaries, even in the realm of fiction.
"You can do it, bro." Vernon tapped his friend's shoulder.
The end.
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