#and also frankly DO i actually want it to come back?

[shiinayumi]

This is actually a good point that indigenous people have already gone over a lot in discussions about colonization and tribal affairs! In short the phrase is used for indigenous people with landback and getting our own homelands back but lets explore it a bit. (Note this will largely be rough as I dont do my best work unpaid)

Really think the "own homeland" part. A large area (such as North America) is home to many tribes territories. The small area where a tribe is is their homeland. For instance, the Cherokee are largely the Appalachain mountains, so that is their indigenous homeland. If they attack another tribes area, one could call it colonizing (not really but more on that in a minute). I am talking about a specific area, not a whole land mass.

As for the colonizing part, largely tribal attacks aren't with the intent to create a colony for a home force. They're expanding territory, but its connected to the land they already have. Its sounds like semantics but its not and is an important distinction.

Also never said people cant oppress other people on their own homeland, they can. I said colonize which is why I made that distinction above. Oppression and colonization while can have overlap are still different things. Like the Aztec are a good example of taking over what is objectively their own people without it being colonization in how its defined.

If we're going to talk about the Americo Liberians we have to talk about how and why what happened. They themselves as people wouldnt be considered settlers or colonizers, however the reason they were scent to Liberia was by and for a separate colonizing force namely the American Colonization Society, with the goal of removing Freed Black people from the US but with also expanding US territory. The colonizers in this case are the ACS and the US as a whole. Whereas the Americo Liberians were a native cugdle in hopes it would work better.

This has historic precedent in many cases one such example was the Birtish using other Celtic groups as plants in Ireland with the goal of when they gave the signal they'd rise up for the British overlords and take over the Irish. The vast majority said fuck off and so the plan failed.

Anyway this is all to say yea the answer is definitely longer than the phrase of "you cant colonize your own homeland" but frankly I didnt feel like typing this whole thing originally. I reminds me of the phrase "no one is illegal on stolen land" where most people kinda it but to really understand what its saying you have to do some digging.

Anyway if anyone wants to pay for the labor I have to put into this shit when learning how to know what are good sources are, and it's free and easy and so is Google here is my paypal and venmo

(Also forgot to add no shade i enjoy sharing stuff and engaging its just a bad audhd day so I probably come off bitchy when im not im sorry if I do 💀 also body pain)

That part was not in the Jose Martinez Cobo definition of indigenous peoples.

Ironically the reason it was add was to prevent indigenous people from achieving self determination.

“Most Israelis are colonizers”- Jews are a single ethnic group either we are all indigenous or we are all colonizers.

[ihni]

What if Billy didn't get the job at the pool, but still needed to earn money over the summer? So he takes every odd job that people ask of him, as long as they can pay.

And unfortunately for Steve, his mother both wants the house repainted AND can pay, so she hires Billy to do it.

It's a pretty big house, but Billy assures her that he can do it alone, as well as buy the paint and tools needed as long as she picks a shade she likes.

And then of course Steve's parents fuck off to some tropical island or something, and leaves Steve to deal with Billy.

And deal with him, Steve does. Because despite how Billy assured Steve's mom that it wasn't going to be a problem, he still finds any and all reasons to bother Steve about every little thing. Where do they keep their ladder? Do they have a bucket? Where can he fill it with water, and is there a bathroom with a sink he can use to wash the tools?

One would think that Steve would be able to avoid him, as Steve has landed his own summer job at the new mall, but oh no. Billy is a morning person. Steve finds this out on the second day, when he is awoken by some terrible noise and almost falls out of his bed in fright, and looks out the window only to see Billy's grinning face right outside his second story window. The noise comes again, and Steve fumbles to get the window open to ask what the fuck Billy is doing?? And Billy just smiled and holds up a paint scraper. "Yesterday was washing the facade. Today I start scraping off all the old paint."

Which Steve is pretty sure is a made-up step of the process designed to annoy him, specifically, but whatever.

It takes a long time. Steve thought the whole thing would take a couple of days, tops, but boy was he mistaken. "Your mom is paying for this to be done PROPERLY", Billy says. Which apparently includes washing, then scraping, then one coat of some kind of oil, one coat of a white paint, and two coats of the shade Steve's mom picked. And even though Billy is actually quite handy and (Steve hates to admit it) pretty fast, it is a big house. Steve starts to despair, thinking he'll never get rid of him. The guy is there when he leaves for work, and he's often there when Steve gets home, too. And that's not even mentioning the times when Steve has a day off.

The thing is, though, that even though Steve wants to keep being annoyed, it's difficult to keep it up. Because although Billy loves to annoy him, he actually keeps their interactions short before going back to work. And while Steve adamantly refuses to help in any way (there was nothing wrong with the previous shade on the house, and also he's not getting paid!), he finds himself watching Billy work more often than not.

He watches him climb up and down the ladder, refilling the bucket; he watches him work the brush up and down and from side to side with confident strokes (and it's frankly unfair the way his biceps look when he's doing that), and he watches him get more and more tanned as the days go by.

Even while wearing a paint-stained simple T-shirt (which started off white) and a pair of cut-off jeans, even after shoving a goddamn cap on his hair to protect it against the sun or the paint or whatever, Billy looks good. Hell, even with paint smears on his face and hands and arms, and droplets of gray on his clothes and legs, he looks goddamn good.

It is so unfair.

Billy brought a Walkman with him one day, and is often found with the headphones covering his ears while he works. Which on the one hand is bad, because he'll hum whatever song he's listening to, off-key, which is annoying when Steve is home ... But on the other hand it's also good, because it means that Billy doesn't notice whenever Steve creeps up on him just to ... watch him.

One Wednesday when Steve is off work, it starts to rain. Steve doesn't think of it at first, because he's inside; he doesn't notice until ten minutes later when he hears a clang from the garage, and runs to check.

He finds Billy there, busy shoving things into the open garage to get them out of the rain - the buckets of paint have already been closed and carried inside, the brushes are wrapped in plastic, and the clang was probably the ladder that Billy has dragged inside and deposited on the concrete floor.

"Sorry," he says when he sees Steve there. "That rain came out of nowhere, I may have to redo the part I was working on today." He stands in the open doorway to the garage and looks out at the rain, making no move to walk inside where it's warm and dry (and why should he? Steve made it clear on day one that while Billy was hired to paint the outside of the house, he was NOT allowed inside under any circumstances - he could use the sink in the garage, thank you very much).

Steve is barely listening, because Billy is drenched from head to toe. The shorts have gone dark with water and the T-shirt is clinging to him like a second (slightly see-through) skin. Steve's mouth is dry.

"It doesn't look like it'll stop any time soon", Steve says, haltingly.

Billy glances at him from where he's standing, arms crossed over his chest, prickles on his wet arms. "Don't worry, your mom doesn't pay me by the hour."

Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell.

"No, I mean," Steve starts, and knows he's going to regret this. "You can come inside and wait, if you want. I can get you a ... towel."

This time, Billy turns his entire body to Steve. His hands fall down to his sides, and - Steve can see his nipples through the fabric. Billy's face splits in a slow grin when he sees where Steve is looking.

"And some dry clothes!" Steve hurries to add. "To borrow."

Billy keeps grinning, like he's figured something out. "You're too kind." He motions to the door that Steve came from, that leads into the house. Because Steve just invited Billy Hargrove into his house. "After you."

Steve is so fucked.

[leeny-leens]

The room is cold, the dim light of Rumi's phone the only source of illumination in the dark. The rain prattels against the window, a rhythmic sort of calmness seeps from the outside into the inside of her little sanctuary.

On any other night like this, she would've been wrapping herself up in as many warm layers as possible, but not tonight.

No, tonight is different.

She finds herself perfectly content with just a singular blanket and a cozy sweater, a new source of heat keeping her warm against the piercing cold tonight. One she presses herself against, and one that also wraps an arm protectively around her waist, like she's something precious to be kept safe.

"Okay so wait, humans think those weird Italian figures are funny? And they gave them names and a whole story? And they're called brain rot?" Jinu's voice cuts through the room, low and soft in the way he reserves for when he's alone with her. His confusion, despite being a valid issue for a demon that's spent 400 years away from modern civilization, still earns him an amused sound from Rumi, something between a huff and a snort. Still, it offends him all the same, even if his offense is more of a theatrical display than any actual indignity.

"Come on, it's confusing and stupid and frankly I don't see how that's supposed to be entertaining at all," he tries to defend himself. Rumi, all flush and cozy against his chest with her head tucked under his chin barely glances towards him, a little smile playing on her lips.

It's barely there, but it still knocks the air out of Jinu's chest, the entire world ceasing to exist at the sight of her smiling for him. It's different from the way she smiles at her fans, full of life and energy, yet calculated and precise.

It also differs from the way she smiles at Zoey and Mira, so wide and warm at the sight of her found family yet distinctly wrapped in quiet distance and an edge of fear.

No, this smile is reserved solely for Jinu. It's small, much quieter than her usual smiles, but it's unguarded and vulnerable in all the ways words fail her. It tells tales of trust and belonging.

Of falling and being caught.

Of hardships traversed together.

Of bridges burnt and built anew.

And quite possibly, it might be Jinu's favourite thing in the whole world.

Well, aside for Rumi herself, but he doesn't want her ego getting inflated beyond the heavens and back now, does he?

"God, you're so old aren't you?" She snorts, somehow pressing herself even further into his chest and swipes to the next video on her phone. "See, they're not supposed to make sense," she explains, holding the phone closer to his face to show him the artificially edited video clip of those Italian comedy figures fighting each other. "It's supposed to be light-hearted nonsense people can run wild with, you know?"

He doesn't know —not at all in fact—but he still nods like he's actually got a clue what's going on. Rumi doesn't buy his shit— of course she doesn't— and she launches into yet another explanation about modern day trends and society, much like she has been doing for the past two hours since he's walked into her room through the balcony for a small 'friendly' visit.

He doesn't understand half of what she's saying, but he listens to all she has to tell him anyway and simply enjoys being able to hold her so close to him, without walls separating them or duties to keep them apart.

She talks and talks for hours on end, answering every question he has with poised precision and a keenness that only comes from years of keeping to oneself, an abundance of words waiting to be released and acknowledged by someone else.

She talks and rambles and confuses the ever loving shit out of Jinu, but he listens to every word she says because when Rumi talks, all the voices grow quiet, and he begins to believe that life might be worth it after all.

[luciaintheskyainthi]

have you seen the new Jason comic that's coming out on September? 💀 because I have OPINIONS and it's crazy how both Jason and specially Helena fans are becoming suicidal over this (and they're right)

I'm very much of the 'ehhhh' (⊙_⊙;) opinion. Sounds like people are pretty mixed about the writer, and my only experience with Huntress was reading Birds of Prey many years ago. So I'm not educated enough to really have an opinion about the clear pushing of a romantic relationship between her and Jason....

Helena's costume though? Diabolical. It's fucking 2025, do we need to be stripping down a character who has historically been pretty modestly dressed? And in PINK? WHERE IS HER PURPLE GOD DAMMIT.

The whole 'hunting a cop killer' thing is just... well, from what it sounds, it's a big 'ick' (definitely for JASON). But also the writer has historically been ACAB, so I imagine they'll be going somewhere there that's not just copaganda... If it were me, I'd:

a) have Jason hunting down the cop killer because the cops are using it as an excuse to terrorise civilians and he just wants to put a fucking stop to it, and

b) make the actual cop killer a cop themselves. Maybe even they're doing it BECAUSE they want an excuse for the cops to militarise further against the city...

But frankly, my biggest stickler is the re-design. I'm all for the return of the leather jacket, but y'all, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!

THOSE ARE NOT MY BABYGIRL'S THIGHS? WHAT ARE THESE FUCKING CHICKEN LEGS?! THEY COULDN'T CRUSH A MELON THEY COULDN'T EVEN FUCKING CRUSH A PAPER CUP GIVE THEM BACK DC GIVE JASON BACK HIS THUNDERTHIGHS--

[fraddit]

This is the third post in a series of four. It covers the downstairs spaces.

The other posts in this series: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

My other floor plans: Diaz House | Buck's Loft | Madney House

They're also on my Ao3

The Locker Room

Right next to the bottom of the stairs and the poles is the infamous glass wall locker room. Next to the poles, there’s a single width door into the room and there's a set of double doors on the adjacent wall that heads out toward the app bay and gym area.

Inside the locker room there are lockers, obviously. The locker configuration isn’t always the same, but generally speaking, they’ve got them divided into two main sections, with each section consisting of three units and each unit consisting of three lockers up and three lockers down. In between the two locker sections are some wall mounted hooks and usually a laundry hamper.

As far as each character’s locker goes, nobody has a consistently assigned locker. Everyone’s locker location changes based on how they want to block the specific scene being filmed.

In the middle of the room, there’s a massive open shelving unit. It’s all black, except for the side that faces the app bay, which is paneled fire engine red like the kitchen cabinets. These shelves hold toiletries, towels, bags, shoes, etc.

Behind those shelves is a solid red door. Presumably, this door leads to the showers, since it’s the only remaining door in the room. I’m going to come back to this door in a later section. There is often a full length mirror propped against the wall next to this door. And there are more wall hooks on the other side.

There are also some red benches and rubber floor mats that change location in the room based on scene blocking. But usually there’s one right in the middle of the room so people can sit in front of the lockers and also one over in the little nook that juts out behind the poles and stairs. Keep this nook in mind for later too.

The Gym

Next we’ll move over to the gym area, which sits underneath the lounge/living room. There’s a single width staircase along the wall. Below that is a single width door that heads out to the side alleyway. On the back wall is a large door that consists of four frosted glass panels. The two center panels slide to the side, but the other two panels are stationary, from what I can tell. The whole assembly is roughly 16 feet wide and the usable opening is roughly 8 feet wide, when both doors are pushed back.

As far as the actual gym equipment goes, there’s a dip station, a heavy bag, a speed bag, an inversion table, two weight benches for bench press etc, and heck of a lot of free weights. Quite frankly, it’s criminal that these poor firefighters don’t have a power cage or squat rack. How are they supposed to do squats and dead lifts? Can’t the show get some sort of product placement brand deal going?

All the fitness equipment sits atop a standard foam puzzle tile gym floor. The weight plates for the barbells are stored over under the stairs. And the ping pong table usually lives over near the stairs as well, but it does move around as needed. Also, there are two big, full length mirrors leaned up against the back wall.

Additionally, there’s usually several benches around this area. From what I can tell, they’re made of some kind of red acrylic material for the seat on top of concrete feet. These benches move all around the gym area and app bay.

The Apparatus Bay

The apparatus bay. It’s where they store the apparatus, so the name makes sense. I’m going to be honest, I got a little lazy with the model for this section. Please forgive me. There’s a bunch of stuff stored along the walls and hanging on the walls that I just didn’t put in, but you can see it all in the show screen shots.

There’s a ladder and a giant American flag and some wall maps that roll up and down. There’s almost always rolling tool carts and hose drying racks and air canister storage racks moving all around this space. Some wall mounted fire extinguishers. Sometimes those benches that live in the gym area hang out over here too. Plastic bins and tubs of various shapes and sizes, etc.

Along the top wall are the gear lockers for all their turnouts and such.

Along the top is also where they park the fire engine, which is the truck that holds water. In the middle, where there’s the most room, is where they park the aerial fire apparatus, the ladder truck. And at the bottom, near the side door to the alley, they park two ambulances.

The Front Section

Off the app bay is the main entrance/bay door that the trucks enter and leave through. Irl there are two different doors for this section: an exterior garage door (the one that says "wake n bake" on the outside) and an interior sliding door that consists of four red panels with textured glass inserts that retracts back into the wall. I’m not sure if that glass door is supposed to be the only door in the world of the show or if both doors are supposed to exist in the show.

As for human sized doors, there are five off this section. Along one side there are two single doors and then a double door that goes to the captain’s office. On the other side there are two sets of double doors. Other than the doorway to the office, we’ve never seen what’s through any of these doors, so I can’t tell you what’s behind them. However, I’ll discuss some theoretical options in an upcoming section. Irl, I've seen equipment stored back there in bts videos.

What I can say is that the double doors across from the office are implied to lead somewhere that can get you outside, presumably through the human sized door on the front facade that’s next to the bay door. I say this because we see Morty come through it when he’s sneaking into the station in Ocean’s 9-1-1 (s2e15).

On the walls of this section are a drinking fountain, hand sanitizer, an AED, some electrical boxes, security cameras, and various lights and alarms. There are also some bollards next to the doors that use to be over by the stairs in s1.

And that concludes all the stuff that I’m totally certain about. Next we move onto the things we’ve seen on screen but that I cannot give exact details about for various reasons. Starting with the captain’s office.

The Captain's Office

The reason I can’t give definitive details for the captain’s office is that there are two of them. For the model, I’ve attempted a sort of amalgam of the two. I’ll also include two sets of screen shots, one for each set.

In season 2, the captain’s office is physically part of the firehouse set and it exists right where they say it does, through those double doors off the front entryway. The single door next to those double doors also leads into this space. Though, I’m certain it’s not supposed to be interpreted that way, you can see a glimpse of it in the corner of the top left shot below. Of interest to me is the glimpse you can spot of a spiral staircase that leads up to some sort of mezzanine, also indicated by arrows. And the last arrow is just pointing out the big glass wall that shows it’s really in the firehouse set.

In subsequent seasons, the office is a sound stage set. It theoretically exists in the same location, because we see Hen and Chim go through those double doors to get to the office in Hero Complex (s5e17). However, the physical features of the sound stage office set don’t make sense with the location it’s supposed to be. There are exterior windows and one door on both sides of the desk and a hallway outside the interior door into the office.

The furnishings that are pretty much the same between the two versions is the standard office stuff. A big mid century metal desk with a desk chair on the captain’s side and two waiting room type chairs on the other side. On the desk is a computer with all the usual stuff that entails, as well as a desk lamp, a land line phone, a desk pad/blotter, name sign, pen cups, tape, etc. It changes.

There’s a low cabinet behind the desk that holds a copy/fax machine, a lamp, and a several other land line phones that I could not for the life of me find models of to put in. So please just imagine them. I assume these phones go directly to specific, important people/places. The fire chief or mayor’s office or who knows? Not me, but that’s my guess. You can see them in the screenshot below.

On the wall there’s a gigantic map of Los Angeles that’s probably meant to indicate their jurisdiction, but lol, lmao even. We all know their jurisdiction is anywhere in a two hour radius. Also on the wall are several plaques and awards etc.

Around the room are some big black filing cabinets and multiple bookcases full of binders and some awards and cute firefighter decor.

In the sound stage version there’s also a side board set up as a coffee station and a coat rack, as well as a black leather couch on the wall across from the desk, with more awards hanging above it. Also the ceiling is lower.

The Bathrooms

We’ve seen two different bathrooms in the show, but not their location in the building. So I’ll theorize about that now.

The bathroom we see Chim cleaning in Chimney Begins, I believe is the real actual working bathroom of the actual building. I believe this because it looks like a real actual bathroom to me and I don’t think they’d go out of their way to build an extra bathroom set for that montage when they could just film him in the already existing bathroom, and also there’s a recent Oliver photo of Kenny in that same bathroom. Based on the windows, I’d say it’s in one of the two locations highlighted below. If I had to bet money, I’d guess that irl, it's in the location at the front of the building/left of the image.

The other bathroom we see is in s1e10 when Bobby is taking dating profile photos. I believe this bathroom is fake and the plumbing fixtures are props hung on the wall. I am nearly certain that, irl, it was in the space beyond the door in the locker room, highlighted below.

Obviously, that doesn’t make sense in the world of the show, because then there’s nowhere for the showers to live. (Although, I have some alternate thoughts about that coming up later.) So where this bathroom is supposed to be in the universe of the show, I don’t know. Off the captain’s office as a private bathroom? Upstairs in an imaginary non-existent place? It could be anywhere.

That concludes our tour of everything we’ve actually seen on screen at least once. Now we head into unseen territories that theoretically exist despite us never seeing them. Everything past this point is pure conjecture or entirely fabricated on my part. Gene Wilder voice: Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination.

Continue to part four...

[lilacprincess7]

Hey heeeey! How are you doing? Love your blog btw ;) Could you perhaps do a Pau x reader? Something where Pau and reader are hosting a dinner at his players and invite the other players like Gavi, Pedri and Co. The other players bring stuff to not come empty-handed (I could imagine Gavi bringing store-bought cookies but having taken them out of the package so it’s not too obvious xD) The reader does most of the cooking and is midly stressed because they want everything to be perfect. Pau helps as good as he can.

Thanks in advance!

Team Dinner anxiety

summary: what the req said

a/n: I saw the 'guess who' video and think he is so cute. I love how him and Hector are so close

You were shaking. Like literally shaking. You and Pau had agreed to host the team dinner of the month and it had you quite anxious. Scratch that. Personally, you looked like a fish out of water. What even were you going to cook? How many dishes should you cook?

Since the season was still going strong you had the problem of everything also being diet appropriate so the guys could actually eat. The next problem was that there were vegeterians and vegans on the invite list. So obviously you needed to cook a little bit of everything.

That preperetion certainly needed more than a pair of hands. Who better to drag into this mess than your boyfriend? Frankly, he already knew you were stressed about and was going to offer his help anyway. You just managed to ask him before he asked you.

So here you were, talking about it in the comfort of your couch. You were currently sat on his lap, his big arms encircling your waist, his hands grasping opposite hips, big green eyes looking up and meeting your own gaze with his chin against your chest.

"Baby, you are distracting me, stop it"

"Why? I literally didn't even move!"

"I know! But I'm freaking out and I need help and you are sitting here so calm and just looking at me like I'm the best think in the world and it makes me blush and feel shy and I can't consentrate with the task at hand!"

"Okay okay, I'll stop looking at you. There. My eyes are closed. But for the record, you are the best thing in the world. You are my entire world hermosa..."

"Guapooo" you said in awe, rolling off of him and on the couch, hiding your face with a nearby blanket.

He was full on smiling with your reaction. It wasn't something uncommon per say, him saying such things and making you blush. It never failed to make you a shy and cute -in his opinion, you disagreed- mess.

"Okay, now I'm pausing for real. Look, in the kitchen I'm a mess. I will blow things up. I can't help at all...but"

"But?"

"I know how to have a barbeque... I can make some steaks, sausages, even some burgers if you want.." he suggested, looking at you with that pair of eyes that had you melting easily.

"That solves so many problems! You are a lifesaver!" you said as you climbed his lap again and kissed him full on the lips.

Now stress gave way to excitment. You would make a couple of salads, possibly put some mushrooms and peppers in the oven as well, that way vegetarians and vegans were covered. The boys would be fine with the meat and you could also throw some fish in the oven, if anyone wasn't in the mood for meat or had some allergy.

The dinner was in two days, so tomorrow you would go shopping with Pau after he got back from training and get everything you need to cook. This was going to be the best team dinner ever and you would make sure of it!

And here you were, in the middle of an isle on the supermarket, trying and failing to reach a bottle of oil from the top self. You were this close to just straight up giving up when Pau made an appearance. “Baby, what’s going on? What are you trying to reach with such a passion?” He asked, chuckling a bit.

“I want to reach that bottle of oil, but it’s too high and I can’t…” you trailed off, pouting

“You can, with a bit of help” he said

With minimal effort, your boyfriend had literally manhandled you and now you found yourself seated on his shoulders, like you weighted as much as a feather. “Now you can reach it hermosa, no?” He teased as he grasped your thigh with one hand, he looked up at you and smiled wide, his eyes lightning up in the process. He had that look of love dancing in his eyes when he looked at you and it always made you feel butterflies.

“Yes, yes stop teasing me…” you trailed off smiling back at him.

You were genuinely so happy with him in your life. A simple look, a gentle touch of his was enough to make you feel better, to make you feel whole even in the most difficult situations. He was everything you could ever need and everything you would ever want. You really hoped and he knew so that he would be the father of your children one day.

Somehow, nothing blew up. That was mostly because this time around Pau was not distracting you and was out in the backyard taking care of the meat he had chosen to cook. You were quite a bit anxious once again because you were making baked mushrooms for the first time on your own and you freaked out.

Like totally panicked. You called your mom to make sure you had the right recipe and then your grandma. They both teased you, saying that Pau has stolen your mind and you had zero braincells left. They also said that you had made this since you were five years old and laughed a bit more. You replied to both of them similarly with something along the lines of 'haha really funny, not that it isn't true...'.

Finally, after you were stack in a kitchen the whole day, your guests started arriving and you were somewhat tense at first. What if anyonw got food poisoning. Another stupid thought since you knew how to cook and Pau always praised you for your talent.

Fortunately, he was there once again to calm you down. He stopped you while you were taking a tray of cheese in the living room as a side for the wine. He got the plate from you and put it down on the kitchen table.

"Amor take a breath" he said quietly

"Why? I'm fine I swea-"

"You are anxious. And I can literally feel your hand shaking so please take a deep breath in for me.." he trailed off, looking at you straight in the eyes pleadingly. If he knew you would be so stressed about it he would have told you to not host it, to cancel it even. You were above everyone else in his heart.

So you did as he told you. He helped you control your breath and guided you for a moment.

"Now, do you feel a bit better?" he asked concerned

"Yeah, thank you amor"

"Anything for my woman" he replied as he kissed your knuckles

He hugged you for a couple of minutes after, mostly wanting to reasure himself that you were okay. He peppered some kisses on your face, one landing on your nose, another on your temple, a third on your cheekbone. He was so affectionate with you that it made you dizzy.

The rest of the evening was perfect. The wags asked you for some of your recipes even. They were quite impressed by your cooking skills and wanted to know more. In the end, it really was the best team dinner ever.

a/n: hope you liked it!!

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Anyway, personally, I have always thought that the best remedy for getting dumped is to go on another date with someone you're not emotionally invested in yet [this is probably the polyamory and borderline talking but stick with me I swear it makes sense for at least some of us]

So when you CARE about a person and the relationship dynamic shifts, now you're in mourning right because you started to imagine them in different places in your life and it's emotionally painful to uproot those. But like. If you temper that pain with a person you KNOW that you aren't emotionally invested in (yet) it's a lot easier to challenge the weird thoughts a post-break up funk puts in your head.

Do I feel like a freak of nature who will always be alone because that's reasonable or because Jean-Paul over there told me he's got too much going on right now to keep going out with me? When I'm crying alone in my room, the answer is way less helpful! When I'm on a date with Steve From Accounting Who's Fun But Not My Type it's a LOT easier to remember that lots of different kinds of people are attracted to me, and my boundaries/choices in interaction with others can have a lot to do with how I experience them. See, Steve From Accounting can say and do a lot of things that just Do Not Bother Me, because. Well, why should they? And the reminder that I'm capable of setting down frustration or hurt, the reminder that I can mark lines with people on a case by case basis that I don't want them to cross, and it can be different for different people and that can be a GOOD thing, all that stuff makes it easier the next time I'm alone and feeling shitty to say "hey, these are sensations in my body that I deserve to tend to, but they are not Truth Coming Out Of Her Well To Shame Me Specifically and I can chill about it."

Honestly it's also really validating to remember that there are MANY kinds of affection and connection from others in the world. The loss of affection/connection that often comes with a break up can rattle me, and it's helpful to have the PHYSICAL IN MY BODY reminder that this will pass as I reorient within the other systems of affection and care I participate in. A break up hurts less if you're not also wondering where you'll get your needs met in the meantime.

Anyway it's day two of post-"let's be friends" stabilization and the playlist evolves with me so today's song is Perfect with Sam Smith and Jessie Reyez

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

It's been pretty consistent for nearly 20 years but red bull bts lineup is definitely getting shaked up one way or another this season...

[cleocatrablossy]

It’s all fun and games pining after someone until you are faced with pressure to tell them and ask them out and suddenly you go “oh I DO NOT like this”

[wren-kitchens]

listening to my body. and yea i can’t even be mad i did do dumb amounts of stuff no wonder i feel like shit now

[sappho-knight]

commentary / vent

[mp3stealer]

a lot has been going on, love yall

[pochaccoups]

cw — nsfw content minors dni, pregnant sex, size/strength kink, daddy kink, cheol calls reader ‘mama’ once, breeding kink, choking, light degradation, creampie. sequel to put a baby in me.

There’s something different about Seungcheol since he got you pregnant.

It’s not the increased attentiveness to you, or the more frequent spoiling and doting on you, or how extra protective and touchy he’d become. These things you saw coming.

It’s something physical. His aura had changed. Something about him is more… virile. Even more than before.

It’s hard not to notice it as he steps out of your en-suite bathroom with a towel around his hips, hair damp as he pushes it back out of his face, stray droplets of water dripping down his gleaming skin here and there over rippling, veiny muscles and full pecs.

“When did you get so big?” you say to your husband, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you’re squeezing your thighs together.

Seungcheol raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into something smug. He brings his arms forward and flexes them so that the muscles in his biceps pop. “You finally noticed.”

Normally you would consider throwing something at him for acting so cocky, but frankly your second trimester hormones have turned you into a wild animal. Unfortunately, his stupid display makes your entire body swelter.

“I’m bulking up so that I can be big and strong for you and the baby,” he continues, and for a second your entire vision flashes white.

Between your legs you’re throbbing so hard it hurts, and in your brain there is only Seungcheol’s shoulders, his pecs, his arms, his cock. You need it in you. You’ll die if you don’t get it.

“Fuck me?”

Seungcheol laughs, but he can’t conceal the gleam of arousal in his eyes as he watches you crawl across the bed and tug at the towel that’s covering what you crave.

“I just showered, my love,” he says without a single ounce of actual sincerity. He doesn’t even flinch when you unwrap the towel, let it drop to the floor, and take his cock in your hand as you stroke him to full hardness.

“And you have a pregnant wife who needs to get fucked or she’ll die, so what are you gonna do about it, daddy?”

He bites his lip for a split second, then he’s scooping you up in his thick arms and laying you against the heap of pillows at the headboard, slotting himself between your legs. His mouth is hot on yours, his tongue licking into you, while his hand sneaks its way between your legs and presses at your crotch.

“Do you want my mouth or my fingers first? Or both?” he quips, gazing at you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes.

“Neither. Just want your cock in me, daddy,” you whine, reaching for his dick again.

“You know the drill, my love, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Cheol, I’m soaking wet twenty-four-seven because of the hormones. I’ll be fine,” you say, tugging at his cock like a minx.

Your husband is torn. One part of him wants to treat you with care; against your own judgement, he wants to open you up slowly for him like he always does, like the routine you both know. The other part, the part that is the reason you are as spoiled and adored by him as you are, sees no joy, no point, in not giving you exactly what you want.

The latter part also happens to be more animalistic, clawing its way to the forefront of his mind.

“If you insist,” he grins, tugging your shorts down your legs, spreading you apart for him, but not before he swipes a pillow from beside your head and tucks it underneath your lower back like you’re weightless. The action alone sends arousal flooding out of you.

He wastes no time then, prodding at your dripping cunt with his tip before he lines himself up with your hole. You gasp when he pushes in, slides every last inch into your heat without any resistance until he’s balls deep, until you’re stuffed full of him. While you’re you moaning from the mind-numbing stretch of his cock, his hips fall into a steady rhythm of rutting in and out of you.

His hands find themselves at the hem of your t-shirt, pushing it up over your swollen belly and over your tits too, bunching it up just under your neck.

“So beautiful, god,” he muses, drinking in the sight of you, his pretty wife, full of his child, while his warm hands dance all over your skin. “And all mine.”

He thinks you want to be coddled and pampered and made love to.

“Fuck me hard, daddy,” you whine, clawing up his biceps with your nails. It’s not enough to have him inside you, fucking you lazily like this. You’re greedy, hungry, for more.

There’s reluctance in his eyes as he stares at you, as he gives a glance at your belly. Usually it makes you swoon, how considerate he is of you, but right now it’s pissing you off.

“Ah, but, honey-” he starts, only to be cut off by you.

“I’m not made of glass, Cheol, so use those big muscles of yours and fucking pound me.”

He hisses at the way you clench your pussy around him, taunting him, his hand flying to the base of your neck. “Fuck. You’re being awfully demanding.”

“I think it’s only fair considering you knocked me up,” you grin, watching as he reels his hips back just to slam back into you.

“And who was begging me to a put a baby in her?” he teases, punctuates it with another harsh thrust that makes your mouth drop in a pathetic whimper.

He watches how your eyes roll back finally, feels the way your cunt clamps down on him again, and realises you weren’t being dramatic at all. You were craving a good, hard dicking down from him, and he sees that now, and he knows your cunt can take anything he gives you, so he leaves behind any hesitation, any mercy, and he starts to fuck you hard.

The switch is almost immediate. The tenderness leaves his eyes, replaced with something much darker, and all of a sudden Seungcheol is grunting as he pounds into your sopping hole, his grip on your neck tightening just enough to keep you pinned to the bed. His hips move fast, meeting yours with wet claps of skin against skin, and hard—so hard that the bed frame starts to squeak.

“Ah, f-fuck, Cheol!” you cry, clawing at the sheets beneath you as he hooks your legs over his arms and grabs at your hips, fucking your entire body along his length. His arms bulge as he manoeuvres you as he pleases, his shoulders so broad. The sight makes you hot, makes you gush even more of your juices until the sheets are a mess.

“Huh? Too much, baby? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growls. “Wanted to get fucked like a slut.”

“S-so big, daddy- ah!” you squeal, your nerves on fire with overstimulation as his cock carves open your walls, punches at your sweet spot again and again. The thing about pregnancy is it’s made you a hundred times more sensitive—everything he does, every touch, sends floods of hot, sparking pleasure through you and straight to your core.

You’re also warmer inside, and, like you said, wetter. Tighter, somehow, too. Seungcheol has to use twenty years of the mental discipline he’d learned from his training to not bust then and there from the way your pussy clings to him, tries to pull him inside and keep him locked there.

And he wants so badly to let you. Fuck, how he wishes he could stay inside your heat forever. He curses the Korean entertainment industry and he curses capitalism. He wasn’t born to be an idol, nor to work. He was born to stay buried in your sweet cunt, to keep you filled forever, to put baby after baby inside you.

Something compels him to bend over you, though he’s cognisant of your bump, and to catch your lips in a deep, heated kiss that makes your brain short-circuit. His cock is enough to make you go dumb, but his kisses are what kill every last thought in your brain, until all that’s left there is how good your husband’s dick is.

“My pretty mama,” he coos, hovering against your lips. His frame covers you entirely. “You take me so good, don’t you?”

“Yeah, f-fucking love your cock,” you sigh, grasping at his shoulders only for him to straighten up again a second later, back to letting you admire his figure.

He angles your hips up a little, hitting even deeper now with every stroke, his cock jumping as you reach for his abdomen so you can rake your nails along his soft tummy, behind which is a set of hard, toned muscles. You’ve always loved that he’s not just sharp, hard lines like stone, that when you cling to him, your fingertips sink into thick skin that’s only tough when he flexes.

Seungcheol nearly draws blood from how hard he bites his bottom lip, watching you writhe and whine and moan from the way he jostles you, as your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts. His handsome features are twisted into pure concentration and utter bliss as he pounds away at you, determined to make you come undone while simultaneously holding off his own release.

“Wanna cum, daddy,” you keen, tears brimming your eyes. “Want your cum, too. Wanna be full of you.”

“You’re already full of me,” he laughs, full of mischief. “What, my baby in you isn’t enough? Greedy little cumslut.”

“Cheollie, please! Right there.” You’re whining, your hand dipping between your legs to rub at your swollen clit, and you see stars starting to form.

“Cum on my cock for me, baby, and I’ll give you my cum,” he moans, gritting his teeth as your walls tighten around him and your soul starts to leave your body before he can even finish his sentence. His heart leaps and twists with adoration and love as your tears finally spill over, as you tremble and shake in his hold, rapt with unimaginable bliss.

Your orgasm makes him let go, too, and finally he gives in to the hot, velvety chokehold of your pussy. He cums with what’s almost a whimper, lurching forward so that he can burrow into you impossibly deep and empty every last drop of his seed into you.

Even though he knows he gave you exactly what you asked for, Seungcheol can’t help the post-nut guilt that creeps up on him about the way he’d handled you—so vulgar. It’s even worse now that you’re carrying his baby. He’d fucked you like a toy, not the mother of his child. He’s a disgrace of a man.

Then there’s you, blissed out, skin glowing from being well fucked. You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Twenty minutes is enough for you to recover, right? Because I’m riding you next.”

[atomicami]

while my heart heals…

ceo!sevika x fem!reader

- summary: you’re in a whirlwind when you and your boss catch your boyfriend with her fiancée in the act together. the heartbreak starts to affect your performance at work, and as a result, you decide to take a leave of absence so you can heal properly. but when your boss catches you handing the letter onto her desk, she ends up giving you some unexpected comfort—followed by a proper farewell.

- content: smut MDNI, modern au, corporate setting, NYC living (for now), reader works in sales, reader is dating jayce (only in the beginning), mel and sevika are engaged, age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, sevika is early-mid 40s), secret love affairs, infidelity/cheating followed by breaking up, hurt/comfort, porn with plot, fingering (r!receiving), semi-public sex (they do it in the office!), sevika being a tease and talking you through it, cockblocking, and also everyone is filthy rich in this

- author’s note: can’t stop thinking about getting with rich ceo sevika so i decided to write this out. i hope y’all like it!

“sometimes i don’t even know where i’m going but i’ll never forget where i come from i know who i am and who i will be and that’s why i have faith in myself”

(this fic is crossposted on ao3)

The rain hasn’t let up all day.

Thick, gray clouds spread across the sky, the city being consumed by the downpour. You barely notice it, though—your mind is still at the office, stuck between unfinished paperwork and the weight of another long day.

You’d expect to be home after your shift, and you did…only to end up getting ready to leave the house again later that evening.

It was for some corporate event. A birthday celebration for an executive, or was it a fundraiser? You hadn’t paid much attention to it when it was brought up in last week’s meeting. Frankly, it was the last thing you’d want to be doing after a long workday like this.

And yet, here you are—back home, standing in front of the mirror, completely unaware of what the night has in store.

You’ve lost count of the outfit changes you’ve given yourself in the past hour. No one really specified what the dress code was for the event—so in the end, you simply resorted to a crimson piece that hung in your closet, blended in with the rest of your outfits.

The dress hugs your figure beautifully. It was sleek and elegant, but you barely feel like yourself in it. It’s not like you don’t like dressing up—on the contrary, you actually enjoy it, especially given that your clothes have now taken up space on your boyfriend’s side of the closet as well. But with the weight of today and this entire week overall, the exhaustion consuming you was making it harder to pretend that you want to be at this party at all.

Your phone buzzes beside you, the text message from Jayce lighting up the screen indicating that he was here.

You exhale through your nose, finishing the touches on your makeup before smoothing down the fabric of your dress. It’s not that anything’s wrong. Jayce has been nothing but kind and thoughtful to you. He’s said all the right things and treated you like royalty for the past two years of your relationship with him. But lately, there’s been something…off. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You shake the thought of it away, grabbing your coat and clutch before heading out the door. It’s just one night, right?

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘

It was only a ten minute ride to the hotel, but for some reason you felt like the ride dragged out longer. Maybe it was because of the downpour of rain, or the evening traffic, as it always is in New York—or maybe it was just your lingering anxieties about showing up to an event like this. As the top saleswoman in Hexcorp, and now the girlfriend to one of the CEOs, you can’t help but feel the pressure of having to make the best impression all the time.

Upon arriving at the hotel, the valet opens the car door for you, and Jayce steps out first, immediately offering you his hand as if he’s effortlessly playing the part of a perfect gentleman. You force a small smile and take his hand, stepping carefully onto the slick pavement as the two of you walk through the revolving door.

The inside of the hotel is a stark contrast to the gloom outside. It was elegant, with warm golden lights, crystal chandeliers, and the soft hum of music on the piano surrounding you the moment you entered. The air is thick with chatter and laughter as well dressed attendees mingle around with cocktails in hand. 

Jayce keeps a steady hand on the small of your back as you both make your way deeper into the crowd, guiding you toward familiar faces. His touch is warm, but something about it feels…off. Too careful. Too practiced.

“Should we grab a drink?” he asks, yet he is already steering you towards the bar. You nod at his offer anyway, but your eyes wander.

And then you see her—your other boss.

Sevika.

Tall, broad, and impossible to miss, even in a room full of elites. She’s right across the bar, her suit tailored to perfection—coincidentally, it also was crimson, the same shade as your dress. The deep red fabric molds to her muscular frame, sharp lines hugging her body in all the right places. The top button of her shirt is undone, just enough to tease what lies underneath, and her posture is relaxed as ever, radiating effortless control. Her prosthetic arm gleams under the soft light, the intricate metal plating a sharp contrast to the rich fabric of her suit.

But she’s not alone.

Standing beside her is her fiancée, Mel Medarda.

But she doesn’t just stand there—she owns the space around her. A beautiful vision draped in a sleek, skin tight white gown that hugs her curves as if it were painted on. Gold jewelry glitters around her neck, and her perfectly manicured fingers rest lightly on Sevika’s arm in primal possession. And she sure doesn’t fail to show off the ring—a massive, dazzling marquise cut diamond perched proudly on her ring finger, glistening under the lights. Her skin glows alongside it, her rich brown complexion flawless, and her signature smirk tugs at the corners of her lips as if she knows every single person in the room is looking at her. As if she knows you’re looking at her.

That’s Mel Medarda for you. International supermodel. A walking fantasy who managed to get engaged with Sevika.

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to look away before either of them can catch you staring. But your eyes betray you.

Because they find their way back to Sevika and Mel.

And Sevika?

She’s already looking at you.

You’re quick to pull your gaze away from Sevika’s, heart pounding a little harder than it should be. You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring, but the tension lingers in the air long after you look away. 

A familiar hand wraps around yours, fully pulling you out of your thoughts as you look back up to see Jayce nudging a glass of champagne into your hand. “Come on, let’s make the rounds.” he urges gently.

You nod with a distracted smile as you take the glass of champagne and follow alongside him, but the memory of Sevika’s striking gray eyes on you stays in the back of your mind.

An hour passes, but you feel like you’ve been here for an eternity already. You’re forcing yourself to smile as one of your coworkers goes on about the latest sales report. You’ve been hearing about it for the past hour, but you’re barely listening. Your mind keeps drifting back to when you first saw Sevika and Mel at the bar. Something about the way Sevika’s eyes lingered on you still makes your heart race.

“Great numbers this quarter,” your coworker continues, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve really outdone yourself with the new client investment. They’re already asking about you by name.”

You nod absently, pretending to care as your eyes scan the around room for any sign of Jayce. He’d been glued to your side all evening, but now you can’t seem to find him at all.

“Thank you,” you say, shaking them off politely. “I’ll follow up with the clients about it tomorrow.”

They simply smile back before walking off to engage with another coworker. You take another sip of your champagne as your eyes continue to search the room. Your attention shifts as you overhear another conversation between two other coworkers near the bar, talking about next quarter’s sales targets. As the company’s top saleswoman, you’re used to these conversations being centered around you. They look over at you with admiration, always taking mental notes on your strategies and approach.

“She really knows how to close a deal.” one of them says. “She’s a shark.”

The compliment barely registers in your head. All you could do was smile, too distracted by the fact that Jayce was nowhere to be seen.

“Excuse me,” you murmur, sliding past them as you start to brush through the crowd.

The search feels longer than it actually is. You weave through the crowd, giving polite smiles and dodging conversations as you slip through groups of colleagues and executives. The music and laughter fill the air, but none of it gets to you. Your mind is fixated on one thing—finding where the hell your boyfriend is.

You try to be in denial about it, telling yourself that you’re just overreacting. Maybe Jayce just stepped outside to take a call or grabbed another drink at the bar. But deep down, that unsettling feeling refuses to leave your system. You finally reach the bar, but there’s no sign of him there.

“Have you seen Jayce?” you ask over to the coworker who sat there.

They blink, looking around before shaking their head. “Uh, no…not for a while. Maybe he stepped out?”

You give them a quick nod, muttering a quiet thanks before moving on, the knot in your stomach tightening even more. Your heels click faster against the marble floor as you move toward the quieter area of the venue, the noise and chatter slowly fading away with each step you take. Down the hall, a row of private rooms stretches ahead, each of them closed except for the very last one at the end of the hallway. You walk slower now, feeling the air get thicker with each step. You shouldn’t be anxious about this.

And yet…you are.

Your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the champagne glass in your hand, your grip tightening instinctively around the flute. You tell yourself to relax, but the words do nothing to alleviate you from the uneasiness that was settling into your bones.

And that’s when you hear it—muffled voices in a low and urgent tone. At first, you think it’s just another couple hidden away in the room for privacy. But something about these voices feels…familiar. Too familiar.

You take another step forward, your pulse pounding louder in your ears with each beat. Your stomach twists once more when you see the familiar head of jet black hair in your eyeline. The door is slightly ajar, and a warm light spills into the hallway. You hesitate, your grip getting tighter on the glass as you listen.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Jayce mutters, his voice rough and raw. His head moves slightly, just enough for you to see a glimpse of her—a glimpse of Mel.

“And yet…” Mel replies, her voice soft and sultry as she pauses. “You keep coming back.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him, followed by his hand shifting through the open slit on Mel’s dress as he moves closer to her. “I can’t help myself,” Jayce murmurs, his voice lower now, filled with a kind of desire you’ve never heard from him. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

“Is that so?” Mel muses back, her voice laced with pure seduction. “Then why do you keep wasting time?”

Your heart sinks down to your stomach, body going rigid as the pieces fall into place. The way Jayce had been acting around you, all those ‘late nights’ he’d spend in the office—it all made sense now.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jayce’s confession lingers in the air, his voice filled with desperation. “Even when I’m with her…all I think about is you.”

Your eyes widen in shock, your heart shattering as the champagne class trembles in your hand. It wasn’t just what Jayce had said, it was how he said it—straightforward, no hesitation whatsoever. There was no guilt. Just raw, unfiltered honesty, spoken so easily it feels like the knife was plunging deeper into your chest.

Like he never even cared.

You feel your fingers going numb on the glass as the wave of realization crashes over you. The love, the trust, the loyalty—it makes you wonder if it had meant anything to him.

Or were you just convenient?

The thought burns in your brain, leaving an ache so deep that it makes it hard to breathe.

And yet, he doesn’t even notice.

“Jayce…we really shouldn’t…” Mel reminds him, her voice softer now.

He simply scoffs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Come on, Mel…you want this just as bad as I do.” he breathes out, and you hear the rustle of fabric between them—their clothes shifting as their bodies press closer.

And then—the kiss hits between them. It was slow, deep and desperate. Your vision blurs at the corners of your eyes, and you don’t even register the champagne flute slipping from your fingers, hitting the marble floor with a loud shatter that echoes throughout the hallway. Tiny shards of glass surround your stiletto-covered feet, but you’re too frozen, too numb to even notice.

However, the shatter startles them both, causing them to freeze instantly, their lips pulling apart as the sharp echo rang through the room. Their bodies go rigid as they slowly turn their heads toward the doorway. Mel’s eyes widen, a panicked expression crossing her face. Jayce’s breathing quickens, his heart rate rising once he sees you. His hands, which had been all over Mel just moments ago, twitch slightly at his sides as he steps back, his eyes still not taking off of you.

“Jayce?” 

Your voice was soft and shaky as his name escaped your lips, but it was enough to make them freeze as the realization hit them. His lips part, but no words come out at first. Mel’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her body shifting towards Jayce in hopes of hiding away.

“It’s…it’s not what it looks like,” he finally breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper, panic and guilt filling his tone. The words hang in the air, completely meaningless to you—but you don’t respond, you just can’t. 

Because even as he said it—you know he’s clearly lying.

Mel hasn’t said a word. She’s too busy avoiding your gaze, her lips slightly parted as if she’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes out. For a woman who’s career relies on confidence, she’s sure failing to show it at this exact moment. 

You don’t move. Don’t blink. In fact, your mind doesn’t register anything else besides the scene that had unfolded in front of you. You don’t even notice the door now fully swung open beside you, or the sudden warmth that lingered right behind you. But you do see the shift in their faces—especially Mel’s—as the panic flashes deeper in her eyes.

“Mel?”

The name cuts through the air like a blade, and your stomach drops. That voice—deep, low, and now laced with pure fury—comes from behind you. Slowly, you turn around.

Sevika stands in the doorway now, her broad frame blocking out most of the light coming from the hall. Her expression is unreadable at first, but you can see how tightly her jaw is clenched as she tries, but fails to stay calm.

“Sevika…” Mel’s voice trembles, almost at the same level as Jayce.

But Sevika doesn’t respond. Not at first. Her eyes don’t leave Mel, dark with rage—as if she were a storm on the verge of breaking. Her presence looms behind you, grounding you in the chaos swarming around.

“What the fuck is this?” Sevika growls, her voice low and cold. Her eyes flicker between Mel and Jayce, taking in the way their bodies are still too close to each other. The way Mel’s hand lingered on Jayce’s chest before dropping down only heated the anger inside her even more.

It was her fiancée and her colleague—together, behind her back.

The room suddenly feels smaller to you now, almost suffocating. Your hands tremble at your sides, fingers curling into fists as an emotional mix of heartbreak and rage bubbles inside you. But your eyes stay locked on Jayce.

“How long?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it was loud enough to cut through the tension. Jayce’s jaw clenches anxiously. His eyes are widened in a mix of desperation and cowardice, pleading silently for your mercy. “Babe…” he murmurs softly, as if that name could fix what was already beyond repair.

“How long, Jayce?” you repeat. Your voice is louder the second time, more stern and forceful. Jayce’s mouth opens again, but nothing comes out. He hesitates, his eyes flickering over to Mel for a split second. Big mistake.

You see it, and so did Sevika.

“Answer her fucking question, Jayce.” Sevika growls behind you, her tone low, almost threatening. “Don’t make her ask again.”

Jayce stiffens, swallowing hard, and finally looks back at you, letting out an exhale of defeat before responding. “A…a year.”

Your stomach drops.

You force out a breath, still in shock and disbelief over what you had just heard. “A year?” you shake your head, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’ve been sneaking around with her for a year, and you have the fucking nerve to tell me that it’s not what it looks like?”

The tears start to build in your eyes, and Jayce steps forward, but you take a quick step back. “Don’t.” you snap, your hands shaking. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.” 

Sevika exhales sharply beside you, her arms crossed, trying to hold herself back. “This is fucking unbelievable,” she mutters, her eyes not leaving Jayce. “You’ve been lying to her for a year? And you…” her gaze snaps over to Mel. “What do you even have to say for yourself?”

Mel’s lips part, but no words come out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sevika lets out a laugh that was just as cold as yours. “I put a damn ring on your finger.”

Mel takes a step closer to her, a weak attempt in trying to redeem herself. “I-I had wanted to tell you—”

“Oh yeah?” Sevika scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “And when exactly were you going to tell me? After we got married?”

Mel’s lips part again, but the only sound that comes out is a shaky breath.

“What a fucking joke,” she mutters her gaze shifting between the two. “You’re both pathetic.”

Another shaky breath slips from Mel’s lips. “Sevika, darling please—”

“Save it.”

Sevika takes another step forward, her presence commanding the room. But this time, she doesn’t stop. Mel instinctively moves back, accidentally bumping into Jayce’s chest. His hands instinctively grab her shoulders to steady her, giving her a look of reassurance to make sure she was okay.

And that was the final straw for you.

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head as the realization crashes down harder. This was never just a mistake.

You glance at Sevika, and when your eyes meet with hers, there’s a newfound connection between you both. Without another word, you turn on your heel, your chest still tight as you pass by the three of them and leave the room. Sevika follows right after, her heavy footsteps matching yours as you step over the shattered glass and out of the room, leaving them both in the mess of their own betrayal.

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The days that followed from the incident felt like a blur.

You throw yourself into work, burying yourself in reports, emails, and endless meetings. You figured it’d be easier that way—keeping busy. If your mind is constantly occupied, then there wouldn’t be any time to think about him, right?

But regardless, it was impossible to ignore. 

Jayce keeps his distance from you, both inside and outside of work. He’s been staying somewhere else in the meantime, you’re not sure if it’s with Mel, or back in his large family estate, but frankly, you couldn’t care less about his whereabouts. As for the office, he doesn’t try to talk to you. No apologies. No explanations. Just…silence.

You didn’t want to admit it, but that alone hurts more than if he had tried.

Of course, you’ve still maintained your position in Hexcorp as top saleswoman, but even that feels empty to you now. Your numbers are still flawless, but the passion, the drive that used to push you forward in your career—it was gone. It honestly even makes you question why you’re still here in this building, or even New York as a whole. Deep down, it makes you wish that you could find yourself an escape from this.

And that sign was given to you just a couple of days ago.

You had broken the news to your parents over the phone. It was quite the shock to them—they’d mostly see you together with Jayce on holidays, but given how he always carried himself and the way he treated you, this was the last thing they ever expected.

But what hurt them the most was hearing just how broken you sounded when you told them.

“I just…I don’t get it,” your voice cracked, and you blinked back tears as your grip tightened on your phone. “How could he do this to me?”

“Oh, mija…I’m so sorry.” your mom’s voice had been soft when you told her, but it had the kind of heaviness that only came from a mother hearing her child in pain. You tried to keep your words to a minimum, tried to hold yourself together, but the more you tried to speak, the harder it was to keep you from breaking.

Your dad was silent for a moment before his voice came through the phone, steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger. “You know, I never liked that Talis boy to begin with.”

You can hear the soft tsk your mom gives to your dad, but you can hear the frustration in her voice too.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he grumbled, his tone softening after a second. “You deserve better, kid. So much better.”

There’s a quick pause before your mother speaks again. “Why don’t you go stay over at the beach house for a while?” your mom suggested gently, her voice warm and comforting. “Spend some time in Miami, clear your head. “Your relatives are close by if you need anything, and I’m sure your abuela would love to see you too.”

You pause for a moment to think over your mother’s suggestion. The beach house was your childhood escape—sitting along the Miami shore where the sun was always warmer and the waves would effortlessly wash your worries away. It was nothing like New York, where the chilly, heavy atmosphere was harder to breathe in. 

However, you couldn’t risk the chances of losing your job for being gone for so long. But deep down, maybe this was what you really needed—a sweet escape, a place where you can truly heal your heart and ground yourself back to your roots.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself as your grip now relaxes on your phone. “You’re right,” you murmur softly, the words leaving your lips before you even realize it. “I could really use something like that right now.”

Your mother’s relieved sigh comes through the line, and your father’s quiet agreement follows right after. “I’m so glad to hear that,” she says gently. “You deserve a break from this, mija.”

“Hey, get some rest, alright?” your dad chimes. “And call us as soon as you get there.”

“I will,” you promise, voice barely above a whisper now.

The call ends with quiet goodbyes, leaving you now sitting in the dim, quiet space of the house you once shared with Jayce. The silence feels heavier here—every room still holds traces of the life you built together, yet it all feels so distant now.

You take a deep breath, reaching over for your laptop before bringing it onto your lap, and without a second thought, you book yourself a one-way ticket to Miami—far away from the chaos that was suffocating you in New York.

And once that’s done, there’s only one thing left to do—write out your leave of absence letter and leave it on Sevika’s desk first thing tomorrow morning.

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The next morning, the familiar buzz of the office surrounds you, but it all feels like background noise. You’re at your desk, staring blankly at your computer screen as you zone out into the unfinished spreadsheet on the screen. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Sevika step out of their shared office and head toward the conference room down the hall. You couldn’t help but keep your gaze on Sevika for a little longer. She looks composed on the outside, but you can see it—the slight tension in her shoulders, the quiet exhaustion in her eyes—she’s holding it together just like you. You look away before she notices you, swallowing down the ache in your chest as they leave.

Once you made sure they were gone, you clutch the letter into your hand as you push back your chair and stand. Your footsteps are quiet as you pass by your busy coworkers and make your way toward their shared office, the door left slightly ajar enough for you to slip inside. Your eyes land on Sevika’s side of the office, the dark wood of her desk reflecting the soft light filtering in through the windows. You take a step toward it, unfolding the letter in front of you to place it on her desk. However, you couldn’t help but notice the soft, navy velvet box quietly sitting on the surface. Your heart skips a beat, knowing exactly what it is without even having to open it.

The engagement ring.

Mel had already given it back.

The box is closed, yet the weight of what it holds feels heavy in the air. Your mind flashes back to that night, to the look on Sevika’s face when she saw Mel with Jayce together. The devastation in her eyes, masked by fury—seeing her hurt you more than when you had seen them. You let out a shaky breath, fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the edge of your letter, but before you can set it down—

“Leaving something for me?”

The deep, unmistakable voice sends a chill down your spine. You freeze, eyes widening as your body goes rigid. Your heart pounds in your chest as panic starts to settle into your bones.

Slowly, you turn around. Sevika stands in the doorway, her tall frame effortlessly filling the space around her. Her expression is unreadable, but her sharp eyes are locked on the letter in your hand.

“Sevika, I-I was just—”

Her brow arches slightly as she shuts the door and steps further into the office, her gaze not leaving yours.

“What’s that?”

Her voice is calm, but you couldn’t ignore the tension behind it. The panic continues to fill up inside you as you instinctively pull the letter closer to your chest, as if that was going to shield it away from her. “It’s…it’s nothing,” you murmur, but the crack in your voice betrays you. Her eyes narrow down to the paper in your hand, and before you can move her hand reaches out, flesh fingers brushing over yours as she gently but firmly takes the letter from your grip.

“Sevika, wait—”

But it’s too late. Her eyes scan the words on the page, her brows furrowing deeper with each passing second as she reads through the letter. You see her jaw tighten, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. “Leave of absence?” she asks, slowly setting the letter down and bringing her gaze back up to you. “You’re…you’re leaving?”

Your throat tightens, unsure of what else to say. “I was going to tell you,” you murmur softly, looking down at your feet, unable to meet her gaze. “I just…I need some time.”

“Why?”

You can hear the concern in her voice—a hint of vulnerability that you’ve never heard from her before. You finally look up, your eyes meeting hers. “Because I can’t do this anymore.”

Her eyes darken with uncertainty. “Do what?”

You swallow, heart painfully thrumming against your ribs. “Be here. Pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you don’t notice Sevika’s gaze softening when you look over to Jayce’s side of the office. “Jayce and I...We built a life together. And now, it’s gone.” Your voice cracks, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay as you look back at her. “Every corner of this place reminds me of what I just lost. I just…I need to get away. To breathe. To heal.”

Her jaw clenches, her eyes flickering away from yours for a moment. “It’s just…” She hesitates, running a hand down her face before exhaling a breath that sounds heavier than it should. “You’re my best saleswoman.” Her voice is quieter now, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of something. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

But it was never about the numbers. Not when it came to you. You know there’s more to it—something deeper. You can feel it in the way her gaze lingers on you, in the way her body gets just a little too tense, as if she’s holding something back.

“I’m not…” Your voice trails off to a sigh as you shake your head. “I’m not quitting, Sevika. I just need some time. Please.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you is heavy, the silence in the room stretching longer than it should.

“How long?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blouse. “But I…I need this.”

Sevika doesn’t speak right away. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at you, but before you can process it—before you can say anything else—she moves toward you. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into a firm but careful embrace.

Your breath catches in your throat. Sevika has never been the type of person to do gestures like this. She’s never been the comforting, reassuring presence in someone’s life—at least, not in this way. But right now, she holds you close to her like she’s afraid to let you go, like she knows how much you need this more than you do. Your eyes squeeze shut as you clutch the fabric of her suit jacket, your fingers curling into the cotton tightly to keep you grounded.

“I get it,” she murmurs, her voice softer now. “Believe me, I do.”

Her words send another shiver down your spine, because she does get it.

Mel. The woman she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.

You exhale shakily, pressing your forehead against her shoulder. “Then you of all people should know why I have to go.”

Sevika’s arms tighten around you just for a second before she finally releases you, stepping back just enough to meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her jaw tight as she watches you carefully. “I know.”

But that doesn’t mean that she wants you to go. Her eyes still linger on yours, and something shifts between you. Sevika looks at you like she’s fighting a battle within herself—like she’s trying to hold herself back from doing something that she may—or may not regret.

“Sevika…” you whisper, your voice quiet enough to break the silence between you.

She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But her eyes—they tell you everything. You feel it before you see it—the way she leans in, her body instinctively drawn to yours like a magnet. It’s slow, almost hesitant, as if she's giving you an open chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. 

Instead, your hand drifts up, brushing lightly over her jaw. She tilts her head towards your palm, melting into your touch. Her eyes flutter shut for a brief movement before they open again—darker, filled with something you can’t describe. 

And then, the distance between you two disappears. Her lips meet yours, and the world seems to fall away. The kiss is tentative at first, making you both afraid to take too much from each other. But the tension is quick to snap, and suddenly, the kiss deepens. Her flesh hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as she pulls you closer. The cool metal of her prosthetic rests against your waist, grounding you in the moment. Your body presses into hers, and you feel like this should be wrong, but it doesn’t. On the contrary, it feels…right. Like this is where you’re meant to be instead. It’s nothing compared to how you’ve felt with Jayce. You absolutely lose yourself in her—her touch, her taste, the way she holds you like you’re something precious. Like you’re exactly where she wants to be."

She finally pulls back, breathless and dazed, her forehead resting gently against yours. “I really don’t want you to go…” Sevika murmurs, the desperation in her voice tugging at your heart. Your thumb brushes along her jaw again, a bittersweet smile spread on your lips. “I know,” you whisper, eyes searching hers. “But I have to.”

“Well, in that case…” Sevika replies, her thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip as her eyes darken with intent. Her lips curl into a sly smirk, her gaze burning into yours. “Let me give you a proper goodbye.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can even think, her lips crash into yours again. Unlike the last one, this kiss is more desperate, filled with everything the both of you have been holding back for far too long. Her flesh hand grips your waist firmly, pulling you flush against her, while the hard press of her prosthetic along your hip sends a shiver through you. Her lips move with a hunger that makes your knees weak. But you couldn’t give in like this.

“Sevika…” you manage to breathe out her name between heated kisses, your lips barely parting from hers. But she hears it.

And as much as it kills you, you pull back. Your eyes meet hers—her pupils dilated with desire, but there’s hesitation filling in yours. “We…we can’t.” Your voice is shaky and uncertain. “Jayce and Mel…it isn’t right…”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away. Her forehead simply rests against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “No…” she murmurs softly, her voice low but firm. “They’re the ones who threw it all away. It’s their loss, not ours.”

Your eyes widen slightly as her words sink in, but she doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. Her gaze is more intense now, searching yours for any sense of doubt. But there’s something else in her eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and aching for you just as much as you ache for her. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, but there’s so much behind her words.

And in that moment, you know she’s right. The weight of the heartbreak, betrayal, and confusion still lingers, but now it all fades away with you being in her arms. Her lips claim yours once more, and the heat inside you ignites all over again. Her hands slide down your back, guiding you as she walks you backward across the room. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you don’t stop her. Not this time.

The edge of the desk presses against the backs of your thighs, and her hands are already pushing everything aside, sending papers and pens scattering to the floor. Sevika lifts you up effortlessly in one smooth motion, placing you on the desk as her lips refuse to leave yours. 

However, neither of you realize where you’ve really ended up—Jayce’s desk.

But at this moment, with Sevika’s hands all over you and her lips claiming yours…none of it matters.

Sevika presses her body against yours, pinning you to the desk as she stands between your parted legs. You can feel every hard inch of her muscular frame, the heat of her skin radiating through her suit. Sevika pulls back slightly, her lips trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You tilt your head back to give her better access, and a soft moan slips from your mouth once she nips at your pulse point, her teeth grazing your soft skin before she soothes the sting with her tongue.

You’re barely able to keep your balance on the desk, your breath shallow as her touch stirs something deep inside you. Your eyes dart to the closed blinds, the faint silhouettes of your coworkers just outside, completely unaware of what’s happening behind them. Your heart starts to race—not from desire, but from the undeniable risk of it all. It feels like you’re playing with fire, and yet…you can’t help but take the heat.

“S-Sevika,” you murmur, trying to steady your breathing. “We—someone could see—”

Sevika cuts your sentence off instantly with a hushed, teasing whisper. “Shh…” she breathes, her voice low. “If you stay quiet…then no one will know.”

She leans in, kissing you hard while her hand works quickly to unbutton your slacks, pushing them down to your ankles. “You need this, baby, I know you do.” Her voice is a low rasp, sending shivers down your spine that makes her see right through you. "Stop overthinking, and just let me take care of you.” 

To emphasize her point, her flesh hand shifts from your slacks to underneath your blouse, her warm fingertips brushing over your stomach as it moves up north. She cups your breast, her thumb brushing over your nipple through the thin lace of your bra. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching into her touch. Sevika takes advantage of this and trails kisses down your chest, pushing your blouse up as she goes. She tugs your bra down, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the office. Then, in an instant, she leans down and takes one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking and biting at the sensitive bud, eliciting a whine from your lips over the sensation. Her hand slides back down your stomach, fingers now toying with the waistband of your underwear. She looks up at you, waiting for your permission to continue, to which you nod in approval.

With that, she hooks her fingers and shifts your underwear to the side, exposing your pussy to her. She leans back, using two fingers to part open your puffy folds only to be taken aback by how wet you were. “God, baby…you’re this wet for me already?” she mutters, gently sliding her fingers through your wet slit. You reply to her with a whiny nod, gently rutting your hips against the pads of her fingers for more. She simply chuckles at your desperate pleas, gently inserting a finger into your hole but only to be surprised when she sees how you resist her single finger. “Fuck, you’re so tight…” she pants out, carefully trying to push more of her finger in. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you hesitate. But the truth weighs heavier than the silence between you. “Too long…” you finally breathe, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes trail away from her, a flash of frustration and sadness crossing your face. “Jayce…he hasn’t—” your words falter with a sudden gasp when Sevika pushes her finger farther inside you. She brings her metal hand up to your jaw, the smooth yet unyielding grip making you face her. “His loss,” she mutters, lips brushing against yours again. “How about you let me remind you how it’s supposed to feel, yeah?"

Sevika doesn't falter just yet, she starts to work her finger in and out of your tight cunt, slowly at first but gradually increasing force once you become used to the resistance. Her thumb meets with your clit, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub as she continues to pump her finger in and out of your pussy. You whine and begin to squirm and shake at the sensation, but Sevika is quick to slide her prosthetic hand on your waist, keeping you grounded onto the desk as the cool wooden surface presses against your skin. She then adds another finger in, scissoring them inside you as her thumb continues its assault on your clit. You whine at the stretch, unable to take it, but your body starts to betray you by giving the opposite response—sucking Sevika’s fingers further inside rather than resisting. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers plunging into your soaked cunt fill the office, mixing with your restrained whines and the harsh pants of her own breathing. 

“S-Sevika,” you whine, trying to wriggle yourself away. “I-I can’t…t-too much…”

“Too much?” Sevika chuckles against your skin, her fingers still working into your cunt. “Then why’s your greedy little cunt begging me for more?” Her gaze drops down to your pussy, admiring at how your desperate hole continues to suck her fingers in while your arousal drips around them. “Needy girl, taking in my fingers like this,” her gaze flickers back up to you. “I’m gonna need these back, you know. Can’t keep them forever, sweetheart.”

All you can do is whine and whimper, your chest and stomach tightening as you try to keep yourself quiet so as to not startle your coworkers outside. But Sevika doesn’t make it any easier for you once she speeds up the pace, the desk shifting slightly beneath you as if it was imitating the consequences of what you’re doing. The thought of Jayce sitting here tomorrow, completely unaware of what happened on his desk today, makes a dangerous thrill pulse through your veins. Jayce might have carried your past, but Sevika was putting herself into your present, claiming you as hers with every deep curl of her fingers, making sure your body never forgets the feeling of her. 

She looks back up at you, her eyes darkening as she watches your face twist in pleasure. Your cunt begins to clench tighter around her fingers, along with the coil that's been winding deep in your stomach, you were getting close, and Sevika could tell. Her fingers never stop their relentless pace, pumping in and out of your clenching heat, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. She glances back up at you just to admire the drunk look on your face. “Look at you, so desperate to cum already, yeah?” she muses, her prosthetic shifting from your waist to push down on your lower stomach, only making it worse for you to restrain yourself. “Go on, sweetheart, cum for me. But remember…” she trails off, jerking her head over to the closed blinds. “They don’t need to know what’s going on.”

Her words are filthy, but they only serve to turn you on more, pushing you closer to your impending release. Your hand grips tightly onto the edge of the desk while the other claws at Sevika’s forearm in desperation, which does nothing but spur her on with her words. At this point, she’s practically begging for you to cum now, just so she can see you fall apart for her. “That’s it, baby—don’t hold back. Let me feel it. Come for me, sweetheart.”

Her words, combined with the relentless pace of her fingers, finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cunt clamps down around her fingers like a vice. Your mouth parts open, body giving in as you’re tempted to scream her name, but Sevika is quick to lean in and attach her lips back to yours, muffling your cries of pleasure as your release gushes into her fingers and onto the desk. But she doesn’t let up just yet, working you through your orgasm with her fingers until you’re a shaking, mewling mess beneath her. 

Once the aftershocks start to subside, she finally slows down, gently withdrawing her flesh fingers out of your sensitive cunt. She brings her hand up to her lips, making a show of licking your juices from her fingers, her eyes closing in bliss as she savors your taste. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” she murmurs, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face. “I should’ve used my mouth on you instead if I knew you were going to taste this sweet.”

You chuckle lazily, looking up at her with heavy eyes as you recover from your orgasm. “Well, you can go for seconds if you’d like, Sev.” you tease, kicking off your heels and bunched up slacks from your feet before spreading your legs farther out to her, leaving your fucked out cunt on full display to her gaze. Sevika’s eyes darken at your newfound position, getting nothing but more turned on at the sight of you spread out on her colleague’s desk. She glances down to your cunt, her smirk spreading wider as she sees your release pooling underneath you, darkening the wood of the desk. “You’ve sure made a mess, pretty girl,” she says, her voice almost accusatory as if she wasn’t the one who made you cum like that. “Luckily, I’m willing to clean that up for you.”

In an instant, Sevika drops to her knees in front of you, hooking her flesh arm beneath your thigh while her prosthetic grips the other, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches as Sevika lowers herself in front of you, her hold firm—one soft and warm, the other cold and unrelenting. Her lips tease their way back up to your pussy, ready to satisfy you once more, until—

“Where’s Sevika?”

Jayce’s words echo faintly from the hallway, distant but close enough to send a jolt of panic through your veins. Sevika freezes for just a second before quickly getting back up on her feet. The two of you scramble around—adjusting clothes, fixing hair, cleaning down the surface and scattering papers in your desperate attempt to make it look like nothing happened on this desk.

But Sevika already moves before you can think of a backup plan. With full precision, she snatches up the paperwork she was originally looking for, strides across the office, and yanks the door open right before Jayce can.

“You were supposed to wait in the conference room,” she growls, her tone now back to cold as she shoves the paperwork into his chest.

Jayce blinks, caught off guard by her appearance. “I—I was just—”

“Don’t.” Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowing down at him. “Go. Now.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. As Jayce turns, footsteps retreating down the hall, Sevika lingers for just a second before glancing back inside—her eyes meeting yours. The heat from moments ago still lingers between you, but with one last knowing smirk, she follows after Jayce before closing the door shut, as if nothing had happened.

And you?

You’re still gripping the edge of his desk, breath unsteady, pulse still racing. Even as you slip your clothes back on, even as you straighten up Jayce’s desk—you can still feel the heat from Sevika on your body. Your lips are still slightly swollen from her kisses, your skin tingling in places that haven’t felt alive in…well, longer than you’d care to admit. You swallow hard, your mind replaying every breathless second. Your cheeks flush again, and your hands tremble slightly as you reposition Jayce’s things—only to realize it’s still out of place.

Get it together.

Your hands work quickly, smoothing out the papers, straightening the chair, making sure there’s no trace of what just happened. The last thing you need is Jayce walking in and sensing something.

No one can know.

Your fingers graze your pulse point, still feeling the phantom pressure of her lips there. You swallow down the feeling, force your hands to stay busy—tidying the last of the evidence, pressing a shaky hand to your chest, forcing a deep breath—before you finally slip out of the office, your head spinning.

And yet, as you settle back at your desk, pretending like nothing happened, you can still feel her on you.

But what’s even worse than feeling her…is wanting it to happen a second time.

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The sun barely peeks through your curtains when your alarm blasts through the silence. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding as you fumble to shut it off. You squint over at the time on your phone, only for your eyes to quickly widen in panic. You were supposed to be up an hour ago.

In an instant, you throw off the covers, the chill of the morning air making your skin prickle with goosebumps as you rush to get ready. As you take a quick shower and get dressed, your mind is still foggy from everything that happened yesterday—leaving the office, Sevika, the kiss, and the overwhelming decision to leave. But there’s no time to think about that now.

Your suitcase is already half-packed from last night, so you grab the last of your things and shove them into your bag without thinking twice. You barely glance in the mirror before you’re out the door, heart pounding in your ears. The taxi sits on the curb, waiting for God knows how long—and you rush into it, not even bothering to comfortably put your suitcase in the trunk and squeezing it alongside you instead. The city itself is still waking up as you slide into the backseat. 

“Kennedy Airport,” you mumble, barely able to catch your breath as the driver nods and pulls into traffic.

Rain taps lightly against the window as you stare outside, the familiar skyline of New York blurred by streaks of water. This is it. You were getting away from the city that had been your home for years—where you built a career and nurtured a relationship, only to watch it all fall apart in the blink of an eye. You lean back against the seat, your eyes drifting shut for just a moment, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. But her face still flashes in your mind.

Sevika.

The memory of her kiss, her touch—heated, desperate, and impossible to forget—continues to linger in your mind. But nonetheless you shake your head, forcing the thought away as you tell yourself that it’s not what you need right now.

By the time you arrive at the airport, it’s nothing but chaos. You navigate through the sea of travelers, heart pounding as you sprint toward your gate. Your boarding pass feels like it’s burning in your hand as you rush through security, your pulse racing with every step.

Until you finally make it to Gate 17, departing to Miami.

You make it just as they begin the final boarding call, breathless and slightly disoriented. The agent barely glances up as they scan your ticket, giving you a quick nod to proceed. Your pace is calmer now as you walk through the ramp, the relief extending into peace the moment you enter the plane. As you set your carry-on into the overhead compartment and settle into your window seat, a shaky exhale slips from your mouth as your body finally relaxes. Your pulse slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you finally let yourself breathe.

You’re even blessed to have an empty seat beside you, thank God.

You close your eyes, head resting lightly against the head cushion of the seat. The distant hum of the engines vibrates through you, lulling your body into a sense of calm. A sense of peace. You don’t even register the measured footsteps approaching, growing heavier until they stop beside you. You don’t open your eyes right away, too caught up in the quiet you were finally starting to enjoy. But then—

Your name is called. And the familiar voice makes your heart stop. Your eyes flutter back open, head tilting to your left only for the calm in your body to be replaced by an element of surprise and shock once you see the familiar broad frame that stood in the narrow space alongside you.

“Sevika?”

Her name leaves your lips barely above a breath, but it’s enough to make her eyes darken. Her expression is unreadable, but the subtle flicker of surprise in her gaze says enough.

She didn’t know. You didn’t tell her where you were going.

And yet… she’s here.

And in that moment, as she finally lowers herself into the seat beside you, you know—

This changes everything.

But maybe, just maybe…some change is exactly what you needed.

- a/n: i need to stop making my fics so damn long omg 😭 i’m not sure if y’all fw ceo sevika like i do, but i could try to write out a part 2 if it catches any interest, we’ll see…

2025 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[enderlovez]

It's Romantic

Spencer Reid x Female Reader WORD COUNT: 980

Summary: When Spencer learns that his girlfriend is also an avid reader after visiting her apartment for the first time, something she's kept from him for reasons unclear, he is ecstatic. And a little concerned, when he reads one of your 'romance' books.

Content Warning: reader gets embarrassed, your book has a sex scene in it, reader bites Spencer once, possibly shy!reader?

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer has never once been to your apartment. You're spend most of your time at his place, occasionally spending the night with him when you feel like it, and he loves having you there with him... But quite frankly, he's curious to see the place you spent most of your nights.

How you've decorated, how you've make it comfortable for you. Yet every time it comes up, the topic of, at some point, going over to your apartment, you change the subject, or insist on going to his.

'Why would we go to my dirty old apartment when we can just go to yours?' you'd asked on multiple occasions.

He doesn't understand what could be so terrible about the place you live, so disgusting that you wouldn't want him to see it?

Well, tonight, he wants to find out.

"Why don't we go to your apartment?" he asks quietly, swinging your linked hand between the both of you as you walk down the street.

You side-eye him, opening your mouth to give him the usual spiel, but he beats you to it, pulling you to a stop and pressing a finger to your mouth.

"Come on, Y/N, we've been dating for almost a year and I still haven't seen where you live!" he states matter-of-factly.

"Why do you need to see my apartment?" you ask, a defensive tone lingering in your words, your voice rising a few octaves. He doesn't need to be a profiler to realize you're nervous.

He sighs lovingly and wraps and arm around your shoulder, guiding you down the sidewalk once again. "Because I love you, and I'm curious to know where you disappear to when you leave me every night."

"I don't leave you every night, though."

"Okay, almost every night, then," he corrects himself. "Whatever you're worried about, trust me when I say there's no reasons to be."

You know he would never judge you for anything, right? Especially not when you're so wound up about this whole thing.

He peeks down at you again, using his free thumb to gently pull your bottom lip from between your teeth.

"Look, if you're really set on me never seeing your apartment, that's fine, I'll never see it," he breathes, not wanting to cause you actual stress about it. "I didn't mean to upset you, just wanted to know more about you."

"No," you snap back immediately, hesitation swimming around your eyes as you reach up and take his hand in yours again, "you didn't upset me at all, Spence. You... you can come see my apartment."

"Sweetheart, if you don't want me to—"

"I do want you to," you cut him off, pressing a kiss to the side of his hand. "I want you to see it. Please, come see my apartment, Spence."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Your apartment is lovely.

Fairy lights and posters decorating the walls, all the furniture worn and cozy, and it smells so distinctly you. It's exactly what he would expect for you, actually, something just as sweet and cozy as you are.

The only thing he didn't expect was the tall wooden bookshelf in your living room, filled with books, none of which he's read. You don't have it organized in any particular order — actually, you don't have them organized at all.

"I didn't know you liked to read," he commented softly, plucking one of your novels from the shelf and flipping it over to read the back. How could he be romantically involved with you for almost a year, and not know something so simple about your day to day life?

You don't say anything, blushing from head to toe as he picks up another one of your books. He looks back at you when he finds the one he gifted you a few months back.

He never actually thought you would read it, simply wanting you to have something in your apartment that reminded you of him, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was worn — more than any of the other books.

Spencer doesn't need to know you started reading it the night he gifted it to you, or that you spent every free second away from him reading it, or that you've already read it two times at this point.

It's obviously not something you would usually read, but it's from Spencer, so it's different. You loved every second of it because of him.

He puts the books he's holding down and grabs another random one from the shelf, settling into your pastel-rainbow-blanket-covered sofa, and flipping open to a random page...

Only to see that the two main characters of this particular book are having sex. Very descriptive sex, he might add, red coloring his face as he gently closes the book again and slowly turns his eyes to you.

Your face is a similar shade of crimson, knowing exactly what he's just opened the book up to find, as you snatch it away from him and put it back onto the shelf.

"Is this why you didn't want me coming here?" he asks, somehow managing to keep his voice steady — for your sake, since you're clearly embarrassed about the situation.

You drop down onto the sofa beside him, pressing your face into the soft bend between his shoulder and his neck, and just barely nod.

"You know I'd never judge you for anything, Lovely," he assures you, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of your head, "but that might just be the most vulgar thing I've ever read."

"It's romantic," you argue without moving your face away from his neck, gently biting down on the skin there as if to reprimand him.

"Alright," he agrees with you, too easily for your liking, but you don't say anything more, "if you say it's romantic, then it has to be."

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN PT.3

Too tired to do my obligations, but too stressed out to sleep, so here we find ourselves again.

This, once again, got horribly long- so long, in fact, I think this is the longest post in this 'trilogy'-, so I apologize in advance (╥ᆺ╥;) I also apologize for the lack of doodles, but dont worry! Im preparing a special one for later <33

After that night where SY offered Binghe an umbrella, things have certainly… changed. Unlike before, where SY spent most of his time mapping away at the ridiculously complex castle hallways and carefully marking away which times it was most likely for SY to be able to get close to Xin Mo, alongside doing his ‘servant’ duties of gathering dirty laundry and cleaning a room here and there, his routine had been suddenly adjusted; now, while he still needed to do everything he was doing before, his servant duties consisted of accompanying the chosen Wife Of The Day.

Or, well, that’s how one of the higher ranking staff had put it, that he was to attend to whatever wife Lord Luo decided to entertain for the day, but honestly, SY was starting to suspect that that had been a convoluted way for Binghe to have SY around whenever he wanted, which…. Was frankly quite worrying! To have the golden protagonist keep his eyes glued on his back almost every second they were in the same room, which - if SY looked back- usually led to Binghe looking away in a (bad) attempt to pretend he wasn’t glaring daggers at SY was more than enough for SY to think the Emperor was probably plotting his demise.

What else could it be? Specially with the way Binghe’s hand seemed to always be lightly tugging at the tassel on his hair every time SY caught him looking, he suspects Binghe had caught onto SY not actually being a servant, and instead that weird guy he saw before he fell into hell that one time. What if Binghe thought SY was somehow involved into the Abyss Incident?? Lord Luo, please have mercy on this servant!

Though, maybe the strangest part of it all, was that sometimes Binghe and SY would just… talk. Usually when the Wife Of The Day was doing something else (e.g. playing music for her husband, or practicing archery, or doing anything that didn’t involve LBH 100% at her side), Binghe would just start musing out loud about the strangest things. It started with questions that were all fair to ask, like ‘How come this servant is a human in the demon realm’, or ‘How come this servant has such short hair’ (SY bullshitted something about being a former slave) but eventually it shifted to questions that were a bit more… random. Or, well, not even questions, musings that Binghe muttered out loud but clearly wanted SY’s input.

It started with minimal things, like Binghe wondering about some type of monster he wanted to fight but he forgot how to do it without damaging the fur too much, which, after a minute of silence and a not-so-subtle look at SY, led to SY nerding out and saying not only the monsters weakness, but what could be done with every important part of the body. Though, the day after that SY realized how strange it was that Binghe was wondering that out loud, since he only fought that monster well into his time as an Emperor, and he swore he remembered one of the wives gushing about her new bracelet that was made from the rare bones of that creature just a few days ago…

Anyways, it continued with questions of similar nature: musings on how to kill a monster Binghe would have no problem killing, to what he should eat for dinner, to what gift should he get for Wife Of The Day. Of course, SY answered all the ‘questions’, and sometimes they even made it to having an actual conversation! Sure, it was a little stilted, SY could not figure out for the life of him why the great Lord Luo was interacting with a random servant, but one day it all finally clicked to him. Binghe had been in the middle of ‘musing’ about hair oils(??), when SY couldn’t help but interrupt him:

“Ah…. Apologies if this lowly servant is overstepping, My Lord, but does My Lord just want someone to talk to?”

A few emotions flashed through Binghe's face quickly enough for SY to not be able to decifer any of them, but eventually landing on a sheepish smile. "This Lord has been found out."

Oh, how cute! And how sad! SY had noticed when SQH was just showing him his shitty story how sad that LBH, even after getting the world to bow at his feet, never really had friendships. Sure, he still had all the love he could want, but sometimes people need friends to talk to, not lovers!

While he knew that he shouldn't interact with characters in world overlooked by the System unless they were transmigrators, SY couldn't help but feel that the situation was dire enough that LBH would turn to a no-name servant in this time of desperation. And it would be a great opportunity to study Xin Mo more closely as well! If SY showed LBH the wonders of friendship, maybe he could pass by his supervisor that he only had to do what was necessary for this world to not implode on itself.

Besides, who could even say no to such a handsome man such as LBH? Is as the old saying goes: what the protagonist wants, he shall have.

*

SY's friendship plan has been going great! After figuring out Binghe's intentions, it seems all of the protagonists reservations flew out the window, and SY was now responsible for being Binghe's personal retainer. Not that that meant too much, since Binghe liked to bend the rules to his liking, and some tasks that should be SY's responsability sometimes were pushed to another servant or Binghe himself made them (which, ???)

Mostly, SY stood at Binghe's side, served tea, was used so Binghe could bounce ideas off of someone, and tended to finer details. All of that very much manageable, if not for the weird mood swings LBH would have sometimes. Yuan, as he has told Binghe was his name after being too scared of the repercutions of using 'Shen', was to accompany him all the time, but sometimes not all the time, or else LBH would get moody; Yuan was to listen to LBH's ideas and plans, and should always comment back or else Binghe would feel neglected, but not too much or else, as LBH had put it, could 'bring back bad memories'; Yuan was to tend to LBH's night routine, even as far as to brush his hair, and if he refused LBH (again) get all moody, but he couldn't brush too much, and he had to do at least one braid but NEVER touch the old, frizzy braid that still had that damn tassle-

Honestly, it was a careful game of balance, which reminded SY more often than not of a child that got mad when their older sibling didn't quite understand the redundant rules they made for a make-believe. Any other person would get fed up, and probably scared of Binghe's constant mood swings, but SY had him all figured out, and his resilience proved to be useful time and time again, since most of the time after his sour mood passed, Binghe would come crawling back with the most pitiful face ever, and what was SY to do? As LBH's friend, it was his duty to hug him and pat his head! (And no one could judge him for that, since if he didn't pat Binghe's head, his mood would plummet all over again.)

Though... SY did feel kind of bad. He wouldn't be able to stay with Binghe forever, and would even need to potentially steal his all-powerful sword for a little bit so everything wouldn't get corrupted. Honestly, the only thing keeping SY from worrying about being labled as a traitor and potentially getting killed was that he would just go back to the System's office and go on with his life.

*

LBH, eventually, caught onto SY's plan on leaving - really, it was only a matter of time. After that fateful encounter with that other SQQ, LBH had found himself in rather pitiful state, questioning everything he knew until that moment and wondering why he couldn't achieve that happiness, and desperately trying to search for a SQQ of his own. He had contemplated going back to that first world, but what would it even matter? Even if he took SQQ by force, his heart would still be with that other LBH, and Binghe couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't be everything in SQQ's world, as he had become for LBH.

Specially after Meng Mo had one day interupted his carefully crafted dream of an idelic world and pointed out some curious memories he'd almost forgotten about. That day, when back in his childhood, when he'd been beaten up by a buch of older kids and hallucinated a man in strange clothes before passing out and waking up protected from the rain. Or when he thought he'd lost his jade pendant forever, only to magically appear in the cabin later.

Or the strange man in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

After SQQ- SJ , that good-for-nothing scum- pushed him to the Abyss, he tried his best to never think about that day again, too scared by how weak he'd been, pleading to man that would sell his soul for one more night at that brothel of his if he could, but now... Now that he could mold his dreamscape any way he wanted, he could look back with a clear mind, which eventually led to the conclusion: It must have been the same person. The same strangely dressed man that helped him in his childhood somehow appeared at the Immortal Alliance again, and even had left provisions right next to where Binghe had fallen.

He'd convinced himself, after many, many years of wishing for a miracle, that he's simply imagined the man, one last thread to keep himself from going insane, but after meeting the other SQQ...

And then Yuan came in. A new servant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It took some observation, and a lot preparing himself to face dissapointment that maybe he was just projecting, putting the image of someone else onto a random man, but that day, when LBH was wondering if he was just wasting time, that that beautiful dream of having his version of SQQ would not happen any time in this world, that maybe he really should just go look at other worlds; after all, if it happened once, it had to happen again, right? Not that it mattered in the end, since while he spireled, much to Xin Mo's pleasure, an umbrella was put over his head, and all his doubts had washed away.

Yuan had to be his version of SQQ, it had to be. And after all his effort of getting close to him, after going so far to keep Yuan at his side, even if he still battled with that his perception of SJ and the other SQQ sometimes overlapping with Yuan's image, even if he still wasn't ready to let go of that one braid, he was becoming more and more sure in his assumption that his SQQ had come to him. Everything was going as planned, and LBH was in track to finally begin to properly court him, and yet-

He was sure Yuan wanted to leave. He wasn't sure why, not how he would do that, maybe just dissapear like he had all those years ago and either only appear again 5, 10, 100 years in the future or go back to wherever he came from in the first place. But LBH knew Yuan wanted to leave, that he needed to complete whatever mission he had (after LBH managed to pry that out of his dreams, which where another source of confusion, with how absurdly difficult they were to even get a grasp of), and that, under any circumstances, he could let Yuan escape his sight.

Not again. Never again.

Binghe had become even stickier in the last few weeks. Not that SY minded, it was very cute to see such a different side from the cool, badass Lord Luo, but SY was running out of time. Since Binghe became stickier, his mood swings had worsened even more, now not wanting SY to be anywhere that Binghe wasn't, and Xin Mo seemed to be thriving off of whatever was making Binghe extra protective, though it was becoming a genuine problem now, since Binghe suddenly refused to see any of his wive's to deal with the Xin Mo problem, and he seemed to be on the verge of qi deviation at all times.

In fact, the only reason Binghe hadn't already qi deviated was because SY was abusing his Personal System and chipping away at the qi deviation in Binghe's night routine, since it was the only time where he was physically very close to Binghe and could spend long periods of time manually coding away at the System screen without it looking suspicious.

But, as if that wasn't enough of a problem, since Xin Mo was having the time of it's life recently, the virus clinging to the sword was also getting stronger, leaving even more residuals all along the castle and bordering on infecting Binghe himself.

His Scissors where thankfully, repaired, and his sweet, sweet manager was even kind enough to send him some extra energy supplies, but at the rate the virus was spreading, he was worrying that he would have to deal with the source as soon as possible or else it would become to strong to deal with it in a non-destructive way.

He... Didn't want to leave Binghe just yet, specially since he wanted SY's attention more than ever recently, but...

No, he needed to do this; their time together was never supposed to be eternal anyways, and if he let the virus spread, he would only be putting LBH's life in danger, and he couldn't continue living with himself after that. He decided he would fix the virus at night, while Binghe slept, and by the next morning he would be gone - he would have, after all, just enough energy to go back to the office.

He just hoped Binghe would be able to forgive him later.

When night came, and SY got to doing the usual night preparations, it just felt like an extra needle being stabbed in his heart when, while brushing Binghe's hair, Binghe looks back uncharacteristicly anxious, and asks if SY can undo the braid and remake it. SY does, and if Binghe notices SY takes extra long to pamper him that night, he says nothing.

When SY is sure Binghe is asleep, he sneaks out of his room and heads to back to Binghe's. Yeah, maybe he stalls a bit with snipping off every piece of the residual virus he came across, but one could argue he was just being extra thorough with his job.

The excuse, unfortunately, didn't last long and eventually he found himself in front of Binghe's room, staring at the door as if he was about to be sentenced to death. After a few minutes of reminding himself that he needed to do this, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the doors. Binghe usually slept with the sword perched right beside his bed, so SY would probably have to use the System and put Binghe in an extra deep sleep if he wanted to make sure the other didn't wake-

The moment he places a foot inside, though, he realizes something is wrong; the room is empty, Binghe is not asleep in his bed and Xin Mo is not besides the bed. Oh, oh no, had Binghe-

"A-Yuan." Binghe says, and SY nearly jumps as he turns around. There LBH stands in the middle of the hallway, not even in his sleeping robes, with a hand clutched tightly on Xin Mo's handle. His eyes are watery but no tears spill.

SY tries to speak but finds he doesn't even know what to say, he can't even try to deny that he's up to something, since his gigantic Scissors are just out an about. Still, he tries to make Binghe understand, say that he needs to do this, and after this Binghe won't have to worry about anything anymore. Though it barely seems like Binghe is listening, and eventually just cuts in when SY starts to say anything in his panic.

"This is what A-Yuan wants, right?" He asks, extending one arm and presenting the glitched out Xin Mo. SY doesn't even have the chance to find an excuse, as Binghe immediately continues. "Than take it."

"Wh- Huh?" "Take it."

He's so shocked he almost drops his Scissors. What does he mean 'take it'??? Binghe has to know everything that's at stake here! He doesn't even know what SY wants to do with it! He tries to say that, how Binghe shouldn't just hand the sword to anyone like that, but a sudden burst of energy set his priorities straight. Shit- The virus! It's growing by the second, at this point SY will have to cut Xin Mo-

"...Binghe, I-" "I don't care what A-Yuan wants with Xin Mo! Take it, use it, break it if you want, I don't care! But if A-Yuan takes it, than he will have to stay." "Binghe, that's not..." "Why not?! That's your goal, right? Do whatever it is that you want to do with Xin Mo? Than here you go, A-Yuan can do it, but I won't let you leave me again."

SY can't even mask when his eyes dart towards the tassle on Binghe's new braid. Binghe just clenched his jaw, but it feels like confirmation enough.

He adjusts his grip on the Scissors, and, as he has nothing else to hide, dispels the System's illusion, his simple clothes glitching out to reveal the System's uniform. Binghe's eyes fill even more with tears, but none fall."

"I... I'll have to go back, Binghe." "No." "Binghe, listen to me, I-" "No. No! A-Yuan will get Xin Mo, and then he will stay." "I-" "You will stay! I can't-" Binghe can't even finish his sentence before he has to choke out a sob.

The virus starts warping the air around it, and slowly crawling up Binghe's arm. SY's decision has practically been made for him. He lifts the Scissors. Binghe pushes Xin Mo forward.

"...I'll come back." "A-Yuan-" "I'll come back, Binghe." One single tear falls and his arm jerks, not knowing if he trusts SY's words or not. He still his arm as the Scissor blades encircle Xin Mo.

"A-Yuan..." "I'll come back, I promise." "..." "I promise."

"......Okay."

Shen Yuan cuts Xin Mo.