#they already took a lot of things from her

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Prologue: Two Rings

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: To celebrate taking a step forward in your relationship and moving in together, Joel charters a yacht for the night. He couldn't possibly have an ulterior motive, right?

Chapter Warnings: language, reader has a strained relationship with her parents, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, unprotected piv sex, oral sex f! and m!receiving, multiple orgasms, reader has at least shoulder length hair, food and alcohol consumption

WC: 7.7K

Series Masterlist

"Reschedule it for next week. I made a promise."

Seven days never flew by so fast.

Joel had been pacing around his house like a caged animal all morning. It was Saturday, but he still took a few work calls just as a distraction. It didn't help much. He found his hand drifting to his pocket every two minutes where a flawless diamond ring in an expensive box was kept.

A couple months prior he had woke up early with you curled up against his side. There wasn't anything particularly exceptional about that day. It was a workday, he remembered that much. It was raining, which was unusual for Los Angeles. But on that day he woke up and looked at you sleeping so peacefully in his bed and it hit him out of nowhere: he wanted to wake up like that for the rest of his life. He had never felt more certain about anything.

He quickly ran into a problem, however. You technically already had an engagement ring. One that was used as a prop, although a very fucking real and very fucking expensive prop, back when you first met and accompanied him to Fiji. He had hired you through a dating agency that specialized in catering to higher end clients like himself. His needs were slightly unusual, however. He had wanted you to pose as his fiancée with the stipulation you weren't to breathe a word about your fake arrangement to anybody in order to win over a real estate tycoon and bid for the last parcel of land on the island.

Behind closed doors, you had your separate rooms.

It was temporary. It was only supposed to be one month and he would never see you again.

It made him laugh now to think about it. He didn't stand a chance. You had him hooked from the moment you stepped into his office with your quick wit and no-bullshit attitude. It took him a while to accept it, but once he did, he never looked back.

When you returned from the island, Joel insisted you keep the ring, which you'd worn on your right hand ever since. He went back and forth over it for weeks. Should he get you a new ring, or should he use the old one and propose to you properly?

He was going to let you decide. Either way, they were both yours, which he anticipated fielding an argument over as you still struggled to adjust to your new, lavish lifestyle with him.

As he looked out the window at the moving truck and two cars puttering up the long driveway, he wondered if he should have spaced things out a little for your benefit. Asking you to marry him on the same day you were moving into his home might be a lot for you to handle all at once. But then he saw you step out of your beat up car, one he planned to replace as soon as possible, and smiled at the excitement written on your face.

He was about to step away and go downstairs to greet you when he saw your mother and father step out of the second car. He froze for a moment, an unexpected jolt of nerves rocking through his chest. He hadn't met your parents before and when you told them you would be moving in together, they suddenly decided to drop everything and travel all the way from Tennessee to help you pack your things.

You thought it was a nice gesture given your delicate relationship with them, but he knew better. They were worried about you and they wanted to make sure he wasn't some psycho coming along to take advantage of their only daughter.

He didn't blame them one bit and he suspected he would behave similarly when Sarah met somebody one day. But he knew how he came off to people. He had a tendency to be gruff and a little cold. It was the by-product of a few horribly failed relationships, as well as years and years of cutthroat business deals. Anyone would have to be hardened to get to where he was in his career.

Still, he intended on making a good impression. These were your parents and, hopefully, his future in-laws. He wouldn't let anything screw this up.

"Honey?"

"In here, Mom!" you called from Joel's master bathroom. Your master bathroom now.

Your mother appeared in the doorway, eyes bugging out of her head when she took in the sizable room. A crystal clear glass shower that could easily fit two people, something you and Joel had already proven more than once, sat in one corner with a built in granite bench and custom tile walls imported from Italy. In the opposite corner was a massive claw foot tub that sat in front of a huge window overlooking the breathtaking ocean view from Joel's backyard. Currently, you sat on the floor in front of the double sinks built into the white marble countertop going through your boxes of toiletries.

"My goodness," your mom breathed with a hand pressed gently against her chest. "Why on earth would he have a tub right in front of a window? Anybody could see you bathing!"

"It's one sided," you giggled. "You can see out but no one can see in."

Her face relaxed and she took a step into the room, making a surprised little noise when she felt the warmth emanating from the tile floor.

"It's heated," you explained before she could ask. She nodded slowly and continued to look around in awe.

"I see."

You could hear her tone, a tone you had grown too familiar with your whole life. She wasn't pleased.

"What's wrong?" you asked, setting down your bags of makeup so you could give her your full attention. She bit her lip nervously before quickly shutting the bathroom door and joining you on the ground.

"Don't you think all this is a little... much?"

You frowned. "Much?"

"This lifestyle is what I mean. This isn't you, honey," your mom said with a soothing squeeze of your arm.

"No, but I'm getting used to it," you said defensively. "This is what Joel is used to and I love him. It doesn't bother me so much, it's just an adjustment."

"He's got a whole staff to tend to this place," she continued with a low voice. "I saw a gardener and a pool boy. Don't tell me he has a maid, too."

"Well, yeah, he does-"

Your mother's jaw dropped with a disbelieving snort.

"He can't pick up after himself?"

"He doesn't have to! He's paying someone to do it for him! Besides, he's very busy. He works long hours every day to afford all this. Why should he-"

"It humbles a person to be able to cook and clean for themselves," your mother said firmly. "It builds character."

"Mom," you whined, "it's different out here and you know it. This isn't Tennessee. Most homes have some hired help, it's just how it is."

"Well, I was just envisioning a different life for my only child, don't come for my head about it," she huffed while straightening her skirt.

"No one's coming for your head, I'm just trying to explain how people live out here. It's different but I really like it. And most of all, I'm happy. I love Joel, Mom, more than anything. And he loves me, too. He treats me well, he cares for me... he's a good man," you finished softly. Your parents never liked the idea of you moving to the west coast with your best friend, Celine, for college. It unknowingly deepened the rift between you and them that you had been trying to mend for years.

"Well, I suppose he does seem rather charming. He has nice manners, at least," she sighed. You thought back to the lunch the four of you had shared not an hour earlier, finding it surprising that your mother found something nice to say about Joel at all given the uncomfortable atmosphere. To his credit, Joel really tried. He asked your parents about their jobs and their church. He even shared some stories about himself, trying to find some common ground, but your parents hardly offered anything in return and it irked you.

"Then why were you and Dad so stand-offish during lunch?" you asked pointedly.

"We were not-"

"Yes, you were," you argued back before she could lie. "I was sitting right there. Why don't you like Joel, Mom?"

She sighed and looked around the ornate bathroom again before floating her hands in the air.

"We just aren't used to all this, sweetie. It's a lot for us. Your father feels uncomfortable around all of this... grandeur."

"Well, do you think you can try a little harder? For me?" you asked, sounding exasperated. "All of this stuff shouldn't matter as long as I'm happy, right?"

After a beat, she slowly nodded.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll talk to your father."

"Thank you," you breathed with a small smile. "Now, can you please help me with the last of these boxes?"

She grinned and pulled the last one over to open it up. "Of course," she said, then made a face at the way everything inside was tossed about. "You're lucky none of these things are broken. You pack like a maniac, honey."

You laughed and pushed yourself onto your knees to get a better look inside the box.

"Well, guess it's a good thing you and Dad helped out with the important stuff."

"That reminds me, the boxes for your office are still in the foyer. Dad packed all of that for you," she said while taking out a few bottles of shampoo. "You know him, properly organizing everything. He's retired but he's still labeling and sorting everything in the house like he's working a case." Your father, a recently retired police detective, always had an attention to detail. "He said your important looking work documents were all in one box he marked fragile."

"Oh, great, thank you. I think Joel's still having one of the bedrooms converted into an office space for me so I'll have to ask him where to store it for now," you said, pausing when your mother gave you a look.

"One of the bedrooms?" she repeated. "How many does he need?"

"Mom! You said you'd try!"

"You're right, you're right, I'm sorry," she said with a light laugh. Then she stood with an armful of items. "Where should I put all this?"

"That door right there is a walk-in linen closet."

You noticed her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the spacious linen closet, but you let it go. Your relationship with them was still a little rocky and you didn't want to press the matter. She said she and your father would try to get used to Joel's lifestyle, so you had to give her time to follow through on her promise.

Your parents left for the airport in the late afternoon. After your tense conversation with your mother, you were ashamed to admit you were a little relieved that their visit had come to an end. But when you saw both your mom and dad give Joel a hug before they left, you softened up a bit, even if their hugs were a little stiff. They promised they would try and that was all you could ask for, even though Joel didn't deserve to be treated unfairly in the slightest. As their car disappeared down the winding driveway, you had visions of all the ways you could make it up to him, but then he surprised you with some unexpected plans.

"You chartered a yacht?" you exclaimed. "Why? To mark the occasion?"

Joel thought about it for half a second.

"Yeah. I wanted to celebrate," he said smoothly while sliding his hands around your waist. "We got it overnight so pack a small bag."

You squealed with delight and grabbed his face to pull him down for a quick kiss. When you turned to hurry back inside, he swatted you lightly on the ass, making you yelp and then giggle your way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom.

The marina was absolutely beautiful at sunset. The last golden rays from the sun reflected off the water as you approached, spreading flashes of deep purples, pinks and greens across the horizon. Joel had insisted on driving you both himself, something that surprised you but you shrugged off, assuming he wanted to allow his driver, Richie, to enjoy the weekend.

"We have this entire yacht?" you asked, mouth agape as you approached a huge two story charter.

"Yep," he had replied, pleased with your reaction. Two crew members had met you at the car and grabbed your bags, leaving your hands free to walk carefully across the bridge to board the yacht. You smiled bashfully when the crew of eight introduced themselves, then tucked yourself into Joel's side as the captain gave you a quick tour. When he paused in the doorway of the master suite to point out all the amenities, you shot Joel a playful look and waggled your eyebrows. He stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes before kissing the top of your head and following the captain through the lounge and to the deck, where there had to have been what looked like a hundred candles lit on every available surface. The sight took your breath away, it was so stunning. Flickering candlelight reflected off the polished wood and glassware that sat atop the table, already prepped and ready for you to be served once you got out onto the open water.

"Pink roses?" you said when you spotted the centerpiece as well as the decorative adornments that were peppered throughout the deck. You leaned in to sniff them and closed your eyes.

"I know you like the pink ones the best," Joel replied as he watched you look around in wonder. Then your eyes found his again and you smiled.

"When did you become such a romantic, Joel Miller?"

His heart skipped a beat in his chest when he replied, "When I met you."

While the yacht made its way a few miles off shore, the two of you found the bar inside the lounge and shared some drinks in front of the small fireplace while soft, classical music filtered through the speakers hidden strategically throughout the room. In the left corner of the room sat a white baby grand piano, sparkling but untouched. To the right was the bar, tended by a discreet looking gentleman with greying hair.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Your leg was draped across his lap and he was drawing slow circles over your calf, but his movements paused when you asked your question.

Joel grinned and nodded, pulling his eyes away from the flames to look at you.

"Glenn's yacht?"

You smiled and leaned in closer.

"Yep," you said, lowering your voice so the bartender couldn't overhear. "Remember the last night we were there?"

Joel bit back a groan at the memory of you on top of him, practically begging him to fuck you, but he had refused. That didn't stop you from finding another way to drive him completely insane. Instead, you had gotten yourself off by riding his thigh. It was the first time the two of you had blurred that line from a business relationship to something more.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember," he murmured. Your eyes looked heavy as you gazed up at him and it took every ounce of strength he had not to toss you over his shoulder and take you back to the master suite right then and there. Instead, he pulled you in for a deep kiss, tasting the sweetness of champagne on your tongue.

His hand drifted back to get lost in your hair when you both heard someone nearby softly clearing their throat. You pulled away and let your gaze sheepishly fall while Joel handled the crew member who had come to let you know that dinner was about to be served.

"Oops," you whispered once the they were out of sight. A low rumble of laughter bubbled up from his chest and once you stood, he tugged you against him and cupped your face.

"Don't worry. Place'll be all ours after dinner," Joel told you. He gave you a quick kiss before curving his arm around your shoulders so he could lead you out towards the deck.

"Wha - Joel! We - we can't drive this thing!"

He chuckled at the panic in your voice. "Just for the evening. They'll drop anchor and be back in the morning. I ain't gonna get us killed, baby."

"Oh," you breathed a sigh in relief. He pulled your chair out and you sat down primly, glancing down at the complicated looking appetizer that waited for you. A small smile played at your lips when you asked, "And why are they leaving overnight, Joel?"

He sat down across from you and flicked out his cloth napkin with a wink.

"You'll see."

Dinner was elaborate and rich, but you had grown used to that with Joel. You had lost count of how many courses they brought out but when a cheese plate was placed between you after the main dish, you gave him a pained look.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?" he hummed while taking a sip of red wine. Your fingers inched across the white linen tablecloth, seeking out his hand. When his own fingers linked with yours and curled around your knuckles, you smiled at him tiredly.

"This is lovely," you began, "but I'm wondering when I'll get my dessert."

"Dessert's after the limoncello," he assured you. He shifted a little nervously in his chair and adjusted his tie. His mind was elsewhere but you had no idea.

"That's not the kind of dessert I meant," you whispered. You saw the realization dawn on him and you stifled a giggle. He leaned forward, hands still intertwined, and picked up a piece of cheese. He held it out between his thumb and forefinger and as seductively as you could, slowly stretched your neck forward to wrap your lips around his fingers and the small cube, all while maintaining eye contact with Joel.

"Good?"

You nodded and swallowed. "But I know something that tastes better."

"Christ," he groaned, eyes darkening as heat began to spread under his collar. Subconsciously, his finger began to slide your ring back and forth, fiddling with it. He wanted to just ask you right then and there. Just take the thing off and put it on your other hand and say the fucking words. But he had to wait. He had a plan.

Mercifully, dessert finally arrived. Actual dessert. Tiramisu, to be exact. But you were growing restless. He could tell by the way you sighed and tugged at the straps of your dress or flicked your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck with a soft moan. You were trying to get him to break and it was working magnificently. It had him checking his watch and mentally doing the math, trying to figure out if he had enough time to fuck you before his plan was set into motion.

The crew was packing up somewhere in the depths of the yacht. The captain had just left your table after confirming with Joel whether or not he needed anything else, and the anticipation of having the boat all to yourselves was killing you. But when he stood and extended a hand, asking you to join him on the deck instead of dragging you back to the bedroom, you hesitated. He grinned and wiggled his fingers.

"C'mon. Trust me."

You did. Of course, you did. So you stood and let him take your hand, leading you out onto the deck which was alight with flameleas candles and string lights wrapped around all the railings. A small seating area sprinkled with rose petals awaited you, the sight causing your suspicions to stir.

"All this to celebrate moving in together?" you asked. Joel didn't respond. He just smiled and sat down on the plush couch, which was facing the vast, empty ocean, and patted the seat next to him. Slowly, you sat down and leaned into his side before scanning the water. The moon was full that night and blazed a bright beam of light across the sea. It was quiet and serene and had you melting into his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

"It's peaceful," you murmured. In the distance, you could hear the soft hum of a motor from the boat taking the crew back to shore. Joel glanced nervously at his watch and you frowned. Tilting your chin up a bit, you caught his eye.

"What's going on?"

"Nothin'," he said immediately in response, only furthering your suspicions. You shifted so you could get a better look at his face.

"Why are you checking the time? What's-"

"You want somethin' to drink? I can get it for you," he interrupted. Okay, now you knew something was up. His fingers were tapping rhythmically against his leg, which was bouncing so fast the deck was creaking.

"No," you said, "Joel, why are you acting-"

A loud boom muffled the rest of your sentence, which ended up being a scream, anyway. Then a flash of color appeared in the sky above your heads and you looked up in surprise. Fireworks. There were fireworks going on above you, being set off from a barge somewhere you couldn't see on the water.

"Joel," you breathed in between booms. You looked at him and he grinned. "You did this?"

He nodded and said, "Wanted to do somethin' special."

"This is too much!" But you laughed and jumped when another firework popped in the sky, undermining any scolding on your part.

Your curiosity vanished, successfully distracted by the fireworks display. Joel curled an arm around your shoulders and you sunk against him once again with your back pressed against his front. You tipped your head back to rest on his shoulder so you could watch the fireworks, completely missing the way his heart began to beat faster against your back when he reached for your hands, which were resting in your lap.

Thinking he was just holding your hand, you shot him a quick smile before refocusing your attention on the sky. Maybe it was the drinks you had with dinner, but you hadn't even realized he slid your ring off your right hand until he held it up. Your gaze dropped down to look at it pinched between his fingers and your eyebrows knit together. The huge diamond sparkled with the reflection from the fireworks, all the reds, blues, and yellows shining within every flawless carat.

"Joel?" you said quietly. So quietly that it was impossible to hear over the loud booms.

Then you saw the tremble in his hand that held your ring and your eyes widened with a slow realization: the private yacht, the fancy dinner, the fireworks... this wasn't an evening designed to celebrate moving in together. This was something else.

Joel lifted your left hand from your lap and adrenaline began to course through your whole body. Your ability to blink and breathe just... vanished. Time might have even stood still as you stared down at your hands, watching in disbelief as he carefully slid your ring onto your left finger. Then you felt his beard brush against the shell of your ear from behind.

"Looks better on this hand. What do you think?"

Tears welled up in your eyes almost immediately. You splayed your fingers out in front of you both to look at the ring on your hand, but your vision blurred and your hand shook worse than his. Then two fingers found your chin, tilting your face to the side so he could look you in the eye.

"I wanna spend my life with you," he murmured softly. Your lower lip began to tremble and your heart stuttered in your chest, but you did your best to focus on his words. "You changed everythin', sweetheart. Changed my entire life. Brought me back together with my brother, with my daughter... reminded me what it's like to enjoy life again." His own eyes grew misty when he gave you a small smile and added, "Made me believe in love."

You laughed a little and two fat tears trickled down your cheeks.

"I've never known a peace like the one I have when I'm with you," he whispered. He was talking softly but even with the fireworks still going off above your heads, you could hear every word, almost as if the entire world melted away in that moment and all that remained was just the two of you.

His eyes looked so warm as he stared at you. They were so adoring and vulnerable. It made you want to crawl into his lap, wrap your arms around him, and never let him go. But you wanted to hear the words. You were desperate to hear the question you longed to hear, so you bit harshly into your bottom lip and fought back the desire.

Finally, he dragged in a ragged breath and asked, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" you sobbed, and it was like the floodgates opened. You flipped around and tossed one leg over his lap to straddle him, missing the way his face beamed with excitement when you grabbed his cheeks with both hands and kissed him. Your tongue slid easily between his parted lips, catching his groan between your teeth. When your thumbs brushed over his cheeks, you felt dampness there. Tears. Shortly after, your own streaked down your face, but you couldn't stop smiling.

The fireworks were probably coming to an end, you couldn't really be sure. You were too lost in your little bubble, perched on Joel's lap with his hands fiercely gripping your waist. You couldn't remember if it was you who started to grind your hips into him or if his hands had urged you to move. Regardless, within just a few short minutes, you found yourself dragging your pussy up and down his thigh while your kisses grew more and more urgent.

"C'mon, let's go inside," he panted while you sprinkled kisses down his jaw. When he tried to pull you off him, you shook your head and pushed your knees deeper into the cushion, keeping you both planted in place.

"No - here," you murmured before hiking up the skirt of your dress so it pooled loosely around your waist, freeing your legs to spread even wider. Joel groaned when his chin dropped to his chest, watching as you pulled your panties to the side with two fingers. You bit your lip and swiped your fingers through your folds while he nearly ripped his belt open with shaky hands. He had just unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and leaking, when you pressed your glistening fingers against his lips. His blood was pumping so fast, he was growing lightheaded, and when he parted his lips to taste your arousal on your fingertips, his eyes fluttered shut and his head dropped to the back of the couch in a daze.

"Dirty girl," he rasped after he licked your fingers clean. You smirked and reached down between your bodies to wrap your hand around his aching cock. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and opened his eyes so he could watch you stroke him up and down.

His hands squeezed your hips and encouraged you forward, unable to wait any longer. Fortunately, you couldn't, either. You lined him up against your entrance and removed your hand, the only sounds that filled the air now that the fireworks were over was your shared heavy breaths and the water lightly lapping at the side of the yacht.

"It's why you sent the crew away, right?" you breathed as you slowly sunk down on his cock. "So you could fuck me wherever you wanted?"

A strangled groan slipped past his lips when you began to shift ever so slightly, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him taking his breath away.

"Didn't want them to hear," he replied through clenched teeth. "Didn't think you'd - fuck - didn't think you'd be so fuckin' needy so fast."

The fact he really thought you wouldn't want to jump him as fast as possible after he proposed was laughable, and you told him so as you began to bounce quicker in his lap, gasping when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

Joel just chuckled breathlessly and clutched your hips harder, helping you glide up and down his shaft.

"Ain't got nothin' to do with it. You wanted me to fuck you halfway through dinner."

"Is that such a bad thing?" you moaned, arching your back when his hips began to buck up into you. You grappled frantically at his shoulders and tipped your head back with a sharp gasp, leaving you with a beautiful view of twinkling stars above you.

With your throat exposed, Joel lunged forward to suck a red mark just below your jaw. You smelled so good and your skin was so soft that it had him sitting up straighter so he could gain better access.

"God, Joel!" you cried out into the night sky. His hands grabbed at your ass, fingers digging roughly into each cheek, forcing your body up and down on his cock while he slammed into you, knocking all the oxygen from your lungs and every thought from your brain.

"Gonna make the perfect little wife, baby," he growled, teeth scraping lightly down your jaw. Wife. The word sent a thrill through you.

"Yeah?" you gasped, eyelids fluttering as you felt yourself nearing your peak. "You think so?"

"Mhm," Joel murmured into your neck. "Love you so much, love you so fuckin' much, y'make me so happy. Just wanna spend my life takin' care of you, give you everythin' you need."

He was rambling now and a lazy smile stretched across your face.

"I love you, too," you whispered before tilting your head down to capture his lips in a searing, messy kiss.

Your hips stuttered and your moans grew more high pitched each time you dropped yourself back down on his cock. And because he knew you so well, he grinned against your mouth and murmured, "You gonna come for me?"

"Yeah," you whined in between heated kisses. Your hands clawed at his face and hair and you gasped shakily every time your clit rubbed against the curls at the base of his shaft. "Yeah, yeah I'm - I'm gonna come," you breathed, too lost in your own pleasure to say much else except repeat him, so fucking close that all it took was one or two more deep thrusts and it sent you reeling into your climax.

You tightened around him with a silent scream. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth hung open against his as your orgasm rocked through your entire body. Boneless, you drooped against him, nuzzling into his neck. He pulled you in tight against his chest while fucking up into you recklessly until he let out a deep groan and his body stilled.

"Look." Joel tapped your shoulder, stirring you back to life. You forced your eyes open and followed his gaze down where you were connected. A second later you watched as a small amount of his thick, milky white release dribbled out of you, pooling at the base of his cock.

Unable to put into words how hot it was to watch yourself overflow with him, your mouth greedily found his, tongue probing past his lips with a moan.

You sat there for as long as he would allow, limp and spent while sharing wet, lazy kisses until his cock softened and he slipped out of you with a grunt. The palm of his hand was soothingly rubbing your back and you had never felt more content in your life, but when a sharp breeze drifted over the ocean and made you shiver, Joel broke the kiss and cupped your face.

"Let's go to bed."

You nodded sleepily and allowed him to lead you back into the yacht, through the abandoned lounge that still played classical music faintly through the hidden speakers, down the well lit hallway, and finally to the master suite. The bed had been turned down by one of the crew members before they left. A bottle of champagne with two glasses with a note that read congratulations! was left next to the bed, but you were too exhausted. It was a miracle you were able to wash up and change out of your clothes before slipping into the plush bedding, but you stayed awake until Joel had turned out all the lights and joined you. With a sigh, you curled up next to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder and slotting your leg between his, then finally drifted off to sleep.

The clock read a little after three in the morning when you awoke. You were in the same position you found yourself before falling asleep hours earlier: fitted snugly into Joel's side with your palm placed gently over his heart. You used the bathroom and drank some much needed water but you had trouble falling back asleep, so you perched on the bench by the window and watched the way your ring shone in the moonlight.

It took you back in time when you saw the ring on your left hand again. Memories of confusing feelings, devastating rejection, fake love stories and intense pain flickered through your mind when you thought back to the whirlwind month you spent with Joel in Fiji, masquerading as his fiancée.

But now, it was real.

Now, that lie, that story, was going to become reality.

You couldn't have been happier. After everything you had been through, all the ups and downs your relationship faced from the very beginning, you were finally going to get your much deserved happy ending.

You just wished your parents and their opinions would stop plaguing your mind.

"What're you doin'?" Joel's groggy voice called from the bed. You snapped your head up in surprise, just to find him sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes.

"Nothing. Sorry. I couldn't sleep. Too excited," you grinned when holding up your left hand. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, so he reached over to flick on one small lamp next to the bed. The room was cast in a dim, yellow glow, but he saw you holding up your hand and he smiled.

Joel stood and took two steps forward when he froze. Something passed over his face that had you frowning with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"I - shit!" he exclaimed before turning on his heel and rummaging through his suit coat, which he abandoned across a chair on the other side of the room when you came to bed. You cocked your head to the side and allowed yourself a moment to appreciate how fucking handsome your fiancé was, bending over in just a tight pair of black boxer briefs. Your gaze flickered back up when he swiveled around, holding a small, black box in his hand.

"I got you a new ring," he said as he crossed the room, "I'm so sorry. Forgot to give it to you earlier 'cause, well -" he shrugged and shot you a playful grin. "Y'know."

"A new ring?" you repeated as you stood. "W-why? I have this one!"

He opened the box and you gasped when you saw the flawless cushion cut, crystal clear diamond engagement ring, which was bracketed by two smaller diamonds.

"Joel," you breathed, eyes flitting back and forth between the one in the box and the one already on your hand. "I-I can't! I can't have two!"

Joel chuckled and plucked it from the box.

"Why not? You got ten fingers."

You scoffed and shook your head, but he continued.

"I wanted you to have the option and I wanted to get you somethin' new," he explained while holding it out towards you. You stared at it, still in shock, but stopped yourself from reaching for it.

"You know..." you began slyly. Joel arched an eyebrow at your tone. "You never actually did get on one knee."

His hand dropped to his side and he narrowed his eyes.

"You want me on my knees?"

You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, and when he held your gaze and began to sink down to the ground, still clad in just his underwear, your heart began to do flips in your chest.

On one knee, he murmured your name lowly and reached for your hand. You gave him your right one and grinned when he slipped it onto your finger and asked, "Will you marry me?" for the second time.

"Yes," you whispered. You took a step forward and carded your fingers through his hair. Joel leaned into your touch and briefly closed his eyes, enjoying the way your nails scraped gently over his scalp.

"I see the appeal, now," you said softly, "having a man fall to his knee like this."

"Yeah?" he rasped, opening his eyes to give you a heated look. Then his fingers drifted up your legs to push up the satin nightgown you had slipped on earlier and your breath caught in your throat.

"Get used to it, baby, 'cause I'm ready to spend the rest of my life right fuckin' here." He leaned forward, pressing his face right between your legs and taking a deep breath before mouthing hungrily at your waiting cunt through your panties. You gasped, skin tingling, and fell forward almost instantly, hands sliding helplessly over his bare back while he held you up with his hands wrapped around your thighs.

With one swift turn to the left, he pushed you up against the wall and tugged your underwear down your legs. Tossing them somewhere behind him, he lifted one of your legs to drape over his shoulder, spreading your pussy underneath your hiked up nightie.

His fingers dug into your skin when his mouth came in contact with your center, groaning in delight to find you already so wet and eager for him.

Joel's jaw dropped open wide, sealing his lips over your slit and running the tip of his tongue up the middle. Your vision immediately blurred and you threw your head back against the wall in ecstasy. The scrape of his beard against your sensitive skin, the feel of his fingertips dimpling your thighs, the way his hot tongue laved over your cunt all had you reduced to a trembling mess in a matter of minutes.

You wailed out his name into the room, your voice echoing off the walls and suddenly Joel's plan to send away the crew was making a lot of sense.

"More," you whined while rolling your hips as much as you could without losing your balance. The one foot that remained on the ground was stretched, perching on your tiptoes, while the other was curled tightly over his shoulder, holding him in place.

His mouth released you with a gasp and you whimpered pathetically at the loss while your fingers clawed uselessly at his hair.

"C'mon, let's move to the bed. Want you to sit on my face."

His voice was deep and gravelly and it send a shudder through your limbs.

"No, please, Joel, I-I... I'm so close," you begged, looking down at him with watery eyes. He looked like a mess: disheveled hair, wet mouth, flushed neck. He scanned your face and relented, giving you want you wanted and diving back in between your thighs.

You immediately resumed rolling your hips against his face, chasing your high while his tongue slid messily between your lips over and over, collecting the arousal leaking from your hole and flicking over your clit teasingly each time he dragged his tongue back up.

"I'm- I'm gonna come," you gasped, unable to look away from how enthusiastically he ate at you. It was such a turn on to see such a wealthy and powerful man on his knees for you, a man people not only in his office but throughout the country cowered before. But not you. No, you had him wrapped tightly around your finger.

Well, two fingers now that he had gifted you a second ring.

It was the way Joel's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue over it with a deep groan that had you tumbling over the edge. Your body bent forward with the force of your release, curving over his back with your hands buried in his hair for leverage.

"Fuck, that's it," he whispered into your pussy before swiping his tongue through your slit again. Tears stung the backs of your eyes from the stimulation but you let him continue, trusting him implicitly.

There was no doubt in your mind you would find little circular bruises on your thighs later from the way he clutched at you. The thought of seeing those marks, of seeing the way he claimed you, had your stomach muscles tightening unexpectedly once again. You cried out weakly as another gush of fluid flooded his tongue, then shivered when you heard his surprised groan vibrate throughout your entire body.

"Jesus," you rasped, chest heaving, when he finally pulled away. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes look nearly black in the dim lighting as he gazed up at you from his spot on the floor.

"So beautiful," he murmured breathlessly, dragging his wet lips over your thighs, kissing your bare skin and working his way up your stomach. His mouth brushed along the silky fabric of your pajamas until he reached the tops of your breasts. Once he found your warm skin again, he peppered kisses all across your chest and neck until he was finally standing upright and plunging his tongue greedily into your mouth.

His cock pressed hard and pulsating against your stomach while his tongue leisurely mapped your mouth, and your legs trembled from the idea of taking him inside your cunt again. You knew yourself. It would be way too much. You were exhausted and your muscles felt so weak, but you would be damned if you went to bed without taking care of him. So you broke the kiss, gave him a playful wink, then sunk to your knees between his body and the wall.

If he had any qualms about the change of plans, he didn't show it. He braced one hand against the wall and the other got lost in your hair when you peeled down the band of his boxer briefs and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft. You dragged your fist up and down a few times, humming softly under your breath at how hard he was for you.

You locked eyes with him. He looked absolutely wrecked, leaning against the wall and looking down at you, jaw slack and eyes glazed over.

While still maintaining eye contact, you opened your mouth wide and slid your lips carefully around his girth, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before taking him deeper. His hips shifted forward, gently pushing more of himself inside your mouth until he kissed the back of your throat. You gagged a little and pulled back, earning a chuckle from up above.

"Too much?"

All you were able to do was shake your head. Your mouth was full of him, sucking him deeper once again while taking steady breaths through your nose. Joel's fingers tightened in your hair when you began to bob up and down, hollowing your cheeks with one hand still fisting his base and the other gripping his thigh for support.

"Fuck yeah, that - that's good," he moaned. Your chest swelled from the praise so you kept going, keeping a steady rhythm, sliding your tongue up and down the length of him until your lips felt numb and your jaw ached, and even then, you kept going.

"Oh shit, baby, don't stop," he growled. His fist tugged at your hair a little harder than you expected and you gasped around him. Somewhere above you, his other arm collapsed against the wall, now relying on his forearm to keep him upright while you sucked his cock with the kind of enthusiasm that had his knees going weak and his stomach pulling tight.

His hips rocked forward, meeting you thrust for thrust, groaning your name as he watched himself disappear inside your mouth over and over. Your tongue was flat along the underside of his cock when you felt it pulse and a moment later he spilled down your throat, swallowing every drop of his hot, sticky release.

He was cursing breathlessly above you while you cleaned him up with your tongue, and it wasn't until his hips stuttered and he yanked you off him by the hair that you stopped.

"Christ," Joel whispered, sagging tiredly against the wall with his forehead pressing against his wrist after you kindly fixed his boxers for him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were parted, sucking in air fast as he tried to catch his breath.

"Oughta propose to you more often," he panted with his eyes still closed. You giggled and stood, taking his hand. His eyelids fluttered open, allowing you to lead him back to bed.

"Please don't tell me you have a third ring somewhere," you said tiredly after you burrowed under the covers and he curled himself around you from behind. He chuckled and kissed the back of your neck.

"Nah, just two."

You smiled when he nuzzled your ear, his deep breathing already lulling you back to sleep.

"Where do you think we should get married?" you yawned, yearning to just hear his voice. His fingers searched for your hand resting across your stomach and he gave it a squeeze.

"Thought we already decided a year ago," he mumbled. His lips grazed the shell of your ear when he said:

"Fiji, baby."

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[thewulf]

When the Laughter Stops || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if you could do one with Jake Seresin where him and the reader are co workers (but they liked each other a lot and are idiots) and she flirts with him a lot, like constantly and he mostly just laughs it off but flirt back sometimes, but she suddenly stops one day and is very quiet and he's worried... Read Rest Here

A/N: Gosh I just love Jake. I really hope they make another TG movie with our boy in it <3 Thank you for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k+

T/W : Violation (Not Jake), Talk of Weapons, Talk of break in

Mornings at North Island always started the same way.

Your headset was already on, comms running smooth as you relayed flight data to Mav and the rest of the squadron. You had everything under control because that’s what you did. You were the best at what you did. And you knew it. You didn’t spend years at the Academy and across the country to be mediocre at your job. You were good and you knew it.

Jake Seresin knew it too.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” came the familiar, honey-dipped drawl over your shoulder before he even stepped into the control room. You grinned into your headset. He was right on schedule as always.

You didn’t turn around immediately instead letting the anticipation hang for a second longer before glancing over your shoulder. He was leaning against your desk, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that insufferably handsome smirk that was as much a part of him as his damn callsign.

“Hangman,” you greeted, flashing him an easy smile. “Looking as sharp as ever. It must really be exhausting carrying around that much charm all the time.”

His smirk deepened as he took you in. “It is, actually darlin’. But I manage.”

You made a show of giving him a once-over. That green flight suit zipped halfway, dog tags resting against the fabric of his undershirt and that confidence oozing from every pore. Annoyingly attractive, you noted. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. But damn, the man was hot as hell.

“Good thing I’m here to keep you humble,” you teased while tapping your earpiece as the radio crackled.

Jake leaned in slightly, just enough that you caught the faint scent of his aftershave. The scent curled through the air: rich sandalwood, and cedar laced with smoky vetiver and that deep warmth of amber and musk. Dark, refined, and impossible to forget. Just like man who wore it. And who was currently staring a hole in the side of your head.

 “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t wanna do that. What would you flirt with if I wasn’t around?” He gave you a devious smirk as his eyes traced your face.

You arched a brow, lips curling. “Oh, I’d manage.”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like you were something impossible. “Damn shame sweetheart.” This was the rhythm. The effortless push and pull. The game neither of you called by name but both played with unmatched skill.

“Seresin, you done harassing my officer?” Maverick’s voice cut in from across the room with nothing but amusement lacing in his tone.

Jake straightened slightly but didn’t look away from you. “Just making sure my sweetheart starts her day right, Mav.”

You shot Mav an eyeroll before turning back to Jake. “Aw, how sweet of you Jake.” You cooed at him.

Jake hummed, tilting his head. “Sweet’s not usually what they call me, darlin’.”

The way he said it, low and teasing, sent a thrill up your spine. But you didn’t let it show. Instead, you reached for the mission brief on your desk, casually brushing your fingers against his arm as you passed it to him.

“Guess I’m just special then,” you said with an easy grin.

His eyes flickered with something. Something unreadable. Something dangerous. But the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

“Guess you are,” he murmured. His voice softer this time.

And just like that, he was gone, heading out to brief with the others, leaving behind the faintest trace of his presence. You exhaled, shaking your head to yourself. Yeah. This was the rhythm. At least, it had been. Until everything changed.

Until last night.

Until you woke up to the sound of your front door creaking open.

Until you reached for the bedside drawer, heart pounding, breath shallow, fingers closing around the cold metal of the weapon you kept there. The weapon you dreaded ever having to use.

Until you saw him. A dark figure standing at the foot of your bed, a knife glinting faintly in the sliver of moonlight filtering through your curtains.

Your body had moved on instinct, years of training kicking in before fear could fully take hold. The moment you pointed your weapon at him, he hesitated just long enough for you to move. You sprang from the bed, voice sharp and unyielding, ordering him to back off. And then just as quickly as he had come he was gone. Like a wraith in the night.

The cops arrived minutes later but it didn’t matter. He was already long gone, leaving behind nothing but an overturned chair, a shattered sense of security, and the lingering imprint of fear in your bones.

You barely slept after that, sitting with your back to the wall, weapon still gripped tightly in your hands until the sun started to rise.

And now you were here, at work, trying to pretend like nothing had changed. But Jake knew you too well. So, when he walked into the control room, expecting your usual teasing grin, expecting the flirtation that had become second nature between you. He immediately noticed the difference. You were at your desk, headset on, posture stiff, eyes trained on the monitors like they held the secrets of the universe. No smirk, no playful roll of your eyes when he approached. No wink. No greeting.

And that was the first sign that something was very, very wrong.

Jake frowned, slowing his stride. He leaned against your desk, arms crossing over his chest in the same lazy way he always did, waiting for you to acknowledge him. Nothing.

He tilted his head. “Morning, sweetheart,” he drawled, watching for a reaction.

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard, just for a second, but then you resumed typing like you hadn’t heard him. His frown deepened. Okay. Maybe you were just busy. Maybe Mav had you swamped with flight schedules or logistics nightmares. Maybe.

But then he really looked at you.

Your usual fire, the effortless confidence that made your job look easy was gone. In its place was something tight, something controlled. He followed the subtle tension in your shoulders. The way your jaw stayed clenched even as you kept working. Something wasoff.

“You sick or somethin’?” Jake asked, lowering his voice, trying to meet your gaze.

You finally looked at him but the second your eyes met his you blinked quickly and dropped them again. “I’m fine,” you said too flatly. Too rehearsed. With no emotion in the usual boisterous voice of yours.

Jake’s stomach twisted. Bullshit. You weren’t fine. He knew fine, and this wasn’t it. But what he didn’t know was why. For the first time since meeting you, Jake felt the shift. The invisible wall you’d put up overnight, cutting him out without warning. And he hatedit. Where there should’ve been fire, there was only silence.

Jake tried to ignore it at first. Maybe you were just having an off day. Maybe you were tired. Maybe whatever had drained the light from your eyes would pass on its own.

But as the day dragged on, he knew that wasn’t the case. You barely spoke, sticking to clipped, professional responses when you had to interact with him or anyone else. You kept your head down, shoulders drawn in. It was so unlike you. It made his skin itch.

Then, when someone brushed past you in the hallway. Just a casual, harmless pass. You flinched. It was small, barely noticeable, but Jake saw it. And that was all it took. His blood ran cold. He knew that reaction. Had seen it before. And it sent every instinct he had into overdrive.

The rest of the day, he didn’t leave you alone. Not in a way that would spook you, but he made sure he was always nearby, always watching. You barely acknowledged him and that was the final crack in his patience. By the time your shift ended, he was donewaiting.

You had just stepped outside the hangar when he caught up to you. He moved fast enough that you had no choice but to stop. "Sweetheart," he said. And this time his voice wasn’t teasing, wasn’t lazy or smug. It was quiet. Steady. Serious.

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “Jake, I—”

“Something’s wrong,” he cut in. His green eyes searching your face. “And I need you to tell me what it is.”

Your breath faltered. You didn’t answer right away but the way your gaze darted away. The way your lips pressed together like you were afraid to speak made his stomach twist. He softened, stepping closer, his voice dropping even lower. “Hey. It’s me, alright? Just me. You can tell me.”

You swallowed hard. And then finally your walls started to crack. “I—” You exhaled shakily, like forcing the words out might break you. “Someone broke into my house last night.”

Jake went still.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you continued. “I woke up and he was just there. He had a knife… I think he would have tried to grab me. But I fought back, I scared him off but…” You sucked in a breath. Shaking your head unbelieving that this had even happened to you. “He ran before the cops got there. They haven’t found him. They won’t find him most likely.”

Jake’s fists clenched. His entire body went rigid. His jaw locking so hard it ached. Jesus Christ. The thought of you alone, terrified, fighting off some bastard in the middle of the night made his vision go red. He wanted to break something. No, he wanted to findthe bastard who did this. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, you mattered.

Carefully he reached for you. His fingers grazing your wrist before he slid his hand fully over yours. His grip was firm, grounding. Warm.

“Jesus, darlin’,” he murmured. His voice tight, lethal with restrained fury but when he looked at you again all he let you see was the concern. The unwavering steadiness. “You’re safe now, okay? I promise you, you’re safe.” And for the first time all day, your body eased just a little. Just enough.

You weren’t sure who moved first. One second, you were standing there, raw and exposed with your confession hanging in the air between you. The next, Jake’s arms were around you, solid and steady, pulling you against his chest. And you let him. The moment his warmth surrounded you, the breath you had been holding all day broke free in a shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his flight suit, gripping tight, grounding yourself in him. Breathing in the woody scent that always seemed to coat him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just held you. And God, you hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. His voice a low, steady rumble against your ear. “You’re safe. No one’s scaring you again, I swear it.” You knew his words weren’t empty promises, weren’t meaningless reassurances. They were a vow.

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, one hand lifting to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. “You’re not staying at your place alone tonight.” He said with such conviction.

You blinked up at him. “Jake—”

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” The smirk was there, but softer, missing its usual cocky edge. He tilted his head. “You really think I’m gonna walk away after what you just told me? Not a chance darlin’.” Your resolve wavered. You should tell him you’ll be fine. That you don’t need him hovering. But the idea of being alone in that house, of walking through those doors and feeling that fear claw at you again…

You swallowed hard and nodded. “I have a guest room,” you murmured. “You can take the guest room.”

Jake’s smirk deepened. “Whatever you say, darlin’. I’ll sleep on the porch if you want.” You smiled softly. Jake had a way of doing that for you. Charming bastard he was.

Jake didn’t waste a second when he got to your home. The second you stepped inside he was already moving. He checked the locks, testing the windows, making sure every single point of entry was secure. You stood off to the side watching as he knelt by your front door, brows furrowed in concentration as he worked to reinforce the deadbolt.

“You know,” you said while crossing your arms, “I could’ve called a locksmith for that.”

He glanced up, flashing you that signature Jake Seresin smirk. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to prove to you that I’m useful outside the cockpit.” You rolled your eyes but for the first time all day there was the tiniest tug of amusement behind it. And Jake saw it. Reveled in it.

After he was satisfied that your place was Fort Knox-level secure, he finally let you settle. The tension still lingered, though thin, stretched tight under your skin. He noticed it in the way your shoulders stayed rigid. In the way your fingers curled slightly like you were bracing yourself for something.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He made you laugh.

You weren’t sure when the tension finally started to ease but at some point you found yourself curled up on the couch half-listening as Jake recounted some absurd training exercise where Phoenix had absolutely wrecked him in a dogfight.

“—I swear to God, I had her, I had her, and then at the last second, she pulls this insane move out of nowhere. Next thing I know, she’s behind me, cackling like a damn supervillain and I’m dead in the water.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I bet she lovedthat.”

“Oh, she hasn’t shut up about it since,” Jake admitted, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’ll never live it down. Worst part is, Mav saw the whole thing. Didn’t even bother hiding the smug look.”

You let out a small laugh and Jake stilled. It was quiet, barely there, but it was real. His smirk softened, something shifting behind his eyes. For the first time ever, he really looked at you. Not just as the woman who sparred with him, who kept up with his banter, who never let him get the last word. But as you. The woman who had been terrified last night. The woman who had been shakentoday. The woman he never wanted to see rattled like that again.

You felt the shift too because your smile faded slightly. Your gaze flickering over his face like you were searching for something. Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “Thanks, Jake.”

His throat bobbed. The muscles in his jaw flexing like he was holding something back. He should’ve said something. Should’ve teased. Should’ve smirked and drawn out the moment. Should’ve eased you back into the comfort of your usual game. But he didn’t. Because this wasn’t the game anymore.

His hand lifted before he could stop himself. His fingers brushing along the side of your face. His thumb grazing your cheek so lightly, so gently, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

Your breath caught but you didn’t move away. Didn’t say a word. Couldn’t say a word. And then your eyes flicked down to his mouth just for a second, but long enough. Long enough for him to see it. To feelit.

His pulse kicked hard against his ribs, a slow, building pressure coiling in his chest, in his gut. Jesus. You wanted this. You wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you.

Something cracked wide open between you in that moment. Something unspoken but undeniable. Something that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long it was a wonder it hadn’t boiled over sooner.

Jake’s breath was warm against your skin as he leaned in, his nose barely brushing yours. Giving you the chance to back away if you wanted. He could feel the way you inhaled sharply. The way your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your hoodie like you were holding yourself back.

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw. His voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. “Don’t thank me, darlin’.”

And without thinking, without second-guessing, without giving either of you a chance to step back. He kissed you. It was slow, like he had all the time in the world to memorize the way your lips felt against his. It was lingering, like he wasn’t sure if this was the first or the last time he’d get to do this. It wasn’t playful. Wasn’t teasing. It was real.

When he pulled back, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, wasn’t tense. It was heavy with something unspoken. With something waiting to be acknowledged. But instead of speaking Jake just gave you one last lingering look before pressing a softer barely-there kiss to your forehead. A silent promise. A quiet reassurance.

“Get some sleep sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The scent of fresh coffee pulled you from sleep. For a moment, you lay there, disoriented, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through your curtains. Your brain slowly caught up. You hadn’t made coffee. And there was only one other person in your house who would.

Jake.

You pushed back the covers and padded toward the kitchen. The wood floor cool against your bare feet. And there he was.

Jake Seresin stood at your stove pouring coffee into two mugs like he’d done it a hundred times before. His flight suit jacket was still draped over a chair, but he’d changed into the sweatpants you’d tossed at him last night. The fabric hanging low on his hips in a way that was far too distracting this early in the morning. His hair was still messy, slightly sleep-ruffled, and for some reason that made your stomach do something ridiculous.

He looked comfortable here. In your space. Like he belonged. And you liked it. Liked the way it looked. Liked the way he looked. God help you.

At the sound of your footsteps he turned, flashing you a grin. “Mornin’, sweetheart.” He held out a mug. “Figured you might need this.”

You crossed your arms but took it anyway, inhaling deeply before your first sip. Perfect. Of course, he makes perfect coffee, too. “Didn’t take you for a domestic type, Seresin,” you muttered, lifting an eyebrow. Trying your best to look annoyed but you were anything but that.

Jake smirked while leaning a hip against the counter. “You saying you expected me to sneak out before sunrise?”

You hummed, taking another sip. “Wouldn’t have been the first time a Navy pilot bailed on me.”

His smirk faltered just slightly. Just enough to make your lips twitch. “Not my style, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head. Then after a beat he nudged your elbow. “You slept okay?”

The teasing had softened and the warmth in his voice caught you off guard. You hesitated, fingers curling around your mug, but the truth easily came this time.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I did. I slept more than okay.” Because knowing he was just a room over made it easy to relax. Jake studied you for a second. His green eyes sharp, thoughtful, like he was making sure you meant it.

Satisfied, he clinked his mug against yours, smirk returning full force. “Good. ‘Cause I make a damn good bodyguard. But I make an even better breakfast. What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Eggs or pancakes?”

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast too?”

Jake gave you a slow, lazy grin. “Oh, darlin’, you think I’m lettin’ you start your day without a full meal andmy charming company? Hate to break it to you, but you’re really bad at getting rid of me.”

You scoffed while shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Charming,” he corrected, winking.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to fight, “Pancakes. I like my breakfasts sweet.”

He gave you that devilish grin, “Noted darlin’.”

And just like that. That something between you and Jake Seresin shifted. For good.

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[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[entanglingbriars]

Cultural Christianity: Some Thoughts

The question of whether someone can be both an atheist and a Christian is relevant only in some very specific contexts. In theocratically Christian countries (which has been the normative way to Do Government in Christendom for most of its history), apostasy is literally a crime; if you're an atheist in one of those places you're probably going to keep your mouth shut about it and if you do open it you can expect to be repudiated by your former community.

In countries that aren't theocratically Christian, Christianity frequently functions at least in part as an ethnic indicator. In Northern Ireland it makes sense to ask an atheist whether she's a Catholic or a Protestant atheist. In places where Christians are a minority, they are frequently an ethnic minority, and that will be bound up in their culture.

The only places where the question is relevant are some culturally Christian countries that are not theocratic and where for the most part Christian membership is not ethnically marked. In the United States (which is what I'll be focusing on), that means white American Protestants. (And not even all of them. A born-in Jehovah's Witness may be a white American Protestant, but her culture is definitely not the dominant Christian culture in this country.)

One of the weirder things about this debate, to me, is that on tumblr this debate seems to be largely between gentile atheists and Jews. It's not something I see coming from Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, or Sikhs. It's definitely not something that Christians care about.

As far as I can tell, no one is arguing that the United States is not dominated by (white American Protestant) Christian culture or that everyone who lives here is not to some degree affected by that. The debate seems very much to be about whether a specific person can (or should) be called a cultural Christian.

There are, obviously, some atheists who accept the label. Richard Dawkins is the obvious example (and I'd argue that Dawkins' embrace of the label should give people pause in applying it to others). Those atheists are not part of the debate. They have already been convinced that the term can (and should) be applied to them.

Notably missing from the debate is whether members of other religious minorities can (or should) be called cultural Christians. If I'm raised a Reform Jew in a Christian-majority area and go to a public school, I will be almost as exposed to Christian culture as someone raised a Methodist. But no one is arguing that assimilated or partially-assimilated Jews (and I'd argue that almost all non-Haredim are to some extent partially assimilated) should be called cultural Christians.

The atheists have noticed that. And they really don't like it. The implication it carries is that anyone raised (white American Protestant) Christian will remain so, unless they convert to a different religion and atheism doesn't count.

But the fact that it rankles doesn't mean it's not true. However, it does mean that a lot of atheists see the application of the term to themselves as a denial of their atheism and of the significant work it took to leave Christianity. Because in the United States, even now, leaving Christianity is hard. In some cases it's dangerous, but more commonly it "just" means risking the loss of your entire network of friends and family. This is less so today than it was, say, forty years ago, but it's still a thing.

Further, atheists in the US are a minority religious group. One that experiences oppression and suppression by the dominant religious group. Calling an atheist a cultural Christian identifies her with the group that is actively oppressing her. Which is bound to raise some hackles.

I don't really have a conclusion here. My sense is that applying the term "cultural Christian" to people who don't like it is, at best, counterproductive and, at worst, a microaggression. It doesn't seem to be helping anybody to use it in those cases and may be counterproductive to a discussion of the hegemony white American Protestantism has over US culture. Which is a conversation that is more important now than it has been in decades.

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he���d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[vomitdodger]

@sheepdog264

You the man. Yeah I picked up on your use of “hmmmm” a good bit ago. And the post wasn’t directed at any one person just the situation in general. I still can’t believe I fell for the “trans” hoax initially. But the sources I trust also fall for it so there’s that. Trolls and lefties will do anything for attention or distraction and that seems to be the rule nowadays with Trump winning so much.

Believe me…I have a lot of questions and conjectures on this “accident”. Having been in the military, served with helicopters and lived in DC I’m very familiar with much of this. As are a great many people. I’m literally flabbergasted by some of the people on TV being so uninformed if not outright wrong.

And there’s a great MANY internet sleuths putting out a great many things. Especially with flight patterns and coms using videos and pictures which will answer many questions. But anything can be faked nowadays so I don’t put them out until I trust the source. And thus far, while some sleuths do make sense, it’s all conjecture.

So far the only truth or questions is how the three crew members missed seeing that plane. It is unfathomable to me and everyone I’ve talked to (including Blackhawk pilots). No one can understand how all three missed it. Not to mention all the electronics etc etc etc warning them of such. That’s the biggest question.

The blame is clearing targeting her, but in reality, even though she “allegedly” was in control piloting the aircraft, and I’ve seen no actual proof either way…it was, and always will be, the ULTIMATE responsibility of the Senior Instructor Pilot (IP) for everything the Blackhawk does or does not do. It is very common to transition “who has the stick” at a split-second notice. It happens all the time for a great many reasons.

So far, the only thing she is really likely guilty of is being a Biden supporter. At best without knowing her politics and seeing her social media. Which yeah…doesn’t look good when you delete everything. I say that because for those special positions in the White House you have to be nominated/selected/accepted for the position. She either did it because she supported Biden OR accepted the honor that goes with the role despite disagreeing with the admins policies. It clearly looks to be the first one.

Fun fact, I was in a similar but not exact situation and turned it down under Obama. Because…it was Obama. I couldn’t stomach being so close to him.

Much of the above OP is meaningless. Her flight hours are consistent with her rank. Her pictures are inconsequential and so what if she was a lesbian. Her additional duties with Sexual Harassment, etc, are also inconsequential and normal (some one has to do it as a mandated/unit additional duty) And her house is nothing special. I’ve posted on all this before.

The real info the public needs is the official investigation. Including coms, flight patterns, and the data from the flight recorder. ALL of their personal, technical and professional info will be evaluated. For all three of them. It all goes in to the Army’s Flight Mishap investigation…which I have done several times. It is truly an impressively complete and exhaustive investigation of every last thing…but it takes a long while to do that. I suspect several months given the situation . And separately is the FAA/NTSB investigation which will include the ATC which is already taking some heat.

Most suspicious so far (with proof not conjecture) is this:

I find it very bizarre this was essentially the plot of Die Hard II that took place in Dulles (DC) airport. There’s some other suspicious I have…and they’re juicey…but there’s no true proof yet.

New Development in the Helicopter Crash 👇

This gets more interesting 👇

Her social media has been scrubbed 👇

A White House aide for Biden 👇

Graduated with a Biology degree in 2019 from North Carolina Chapel Hill... Where the gain of function that created Covid started.

Let's löök at her parents 👇

REBECCA LOBACH was the DAUGHTER of DAVID LOBACH (Duke University Medicine; Elimu Informatics; HHS) and ELIZABETH LOBACH (New Regency).

DAVID FRANKLIN LOBACH

*DUKE UNIVERSITY SCHOOL OF MEDICINE, Chief of Division Clinical Informatics, Associate Consulting Professor

*DUKE FAMILY MEDICINE PROGRAM, Endocrinology Consultant

*ELIMU INFORMATICS, VP of Health Informatics

*CDSiC PROJECT, Elimu Informatics (Co-Investigator)

💥NOTE 1: Duke University is run by Trustees Chairman and Mossad asset, Laurene Sperling, who is also the Chairman of Combined Jewish Philanthropies (CJP) and is married to Thermo Fisher (PCR TESTS) Lead Director, Scott Sperling. Thermo Fisher = Temasek (Singapore).

💥NOTE 2: Duke University School of Medicine is led by Dean, Nancy Andrews, who is the Chairman of Wellcome Burroughs (Wellcome/Farrar), who sits on the Board of Directors at Novartis and is a Senior Advisor to NIH Executive Leadership (Anthony Fauci).

💥NOTE 3: Duke Kunshan is a PARTNERSHIP between Duke University and Wuhan University and it officially opened its doors in 2013, which is the SAME YEAR that DAVID RUBENSTEIN (Duke Capital Partners, Carlyle Group, Booz Allen Hamilton, CFR, Brookings, etc.) became the CHAIRMAN of the DUKE UNIVERSITY BOARD OF TRUSTEES.

*Both David Rubenstein and Laurene Sperling are CURRENTLY on the ADVISORY BOARD of DUKE KUNSHAN UNIVERSITY in WUHAN, CHINA.

Duke University is arguably the MOST IMPLICATED SCHOOL IN AMERICA with regard to the COVID PANDEMIC CONSPIRACY and the CREATION & RELEASE of COVID… and COVERUP of COVID’S ORIGINS.

Her Mother 👇

ELIZABETH LEE LOBACH

NEW REGENCY PRODUCTIONS (Development), Writers’ Assistant, Office Assistant, Analyst & Script Editor

*TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX (Post-Production), Office Assistant, Research & Analysis.

💥NOTE: New Regency Productions was FOUNDED by ISRAELI SPY, ARNON MILCHAN, one of NETANYAHU’S CLOSEST OPERATIVES and ISRAEL’S MOST LEGENDARY SPIES. He was involved in helping ISRAEL STEAL AMERICAN NUCLEAR SECRETS several decades ago.

Moving on 👇

This is the man that founded the company where helicopter pilot, Rebecca Lobach’s mother works…

Nothing to see here 👇

Rebecca Lobach was still in ROTC training in 2018.

How is she flying government continuity missions in a Blackhawk in Washington DC 6 years later as a captain? And how did she afford a $520,000 house two years into the military? 👇

Rebecca Lobach, involved in DCA crash, served as a White House social aide under Biden.

She escorted Ralph Lauren through the White House when he was among those awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by former fake President Joe Biden. 👇

This is a screen grab from the FAA’s Airman registry which is available to the public it shows that Rebecca Marie Lobach did not currently hold an FAA medical which is required to have military certificates converted over to FAA certificates meaning she lost her medical…? 👇

Not sure what she ‘destroyed’.. but she doesn’t look fit to me! 👇

A statement from:

Art Halvorson @ArtHalv....

As a former military instructor, I'll tell you that Rebecca Lobach in NO WAY should have been the pilot in command on that flight.

500 hours in 5 years is Inconceivable! 👇

I think there’s more to this tragic incident than DEI hiring, but it was because of DEI policies that Rebecca was on board that helicopter and there are now 67 people dead. 🤔

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people speculating that Gemma’s storyline will lead to a cloning reveal, which like, it’s a decent theory and wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But god, this show is so specific and detail oriented Ben Stiller himself has even said nothing in the show is a coincidence. The cloning theory has also been shut down a couple times by some producers and writes from what I understand and idk I feel like a cloning reveal would just be so boring. And honestly, I don’t know if this is insane, but I’m fully leaning towards the idea that when it comes to Ms. Casey/Gemma, it’s more of a resurrection situation.

Okay so hear me out I believe our Ms. Casey is still physically Gemma her original body, her bones, her blood she’s alive baby that’s her but like also it’s not her. It’s like in horror or fantasy stories when a character dies and comes back but comes back wrong YK?. Physically it’s still them but it’s not them. In my opinion, her brain has been completely reset, wiping away whatever kind of person she used to be.

To back this theory I’ve been heavily leaning on the interaction between Ms. Cobel and Helena in the parking lot and just the general existence of the Mammalian Nurturable department.

Now, I might be reading into this too much, but I just love these characters so much and this show so please bear with me, this is a long one.

this season Harmony/Ms. Cobel is a problem. Like there is just no way she isn’t. Lumon is already struggling to keep it together after the scandal the main four caused, and a change in management isn’t helping. People are (probably) starting to pay attention, and they do not need that kind of heat. Ms. Cobel literally crashing tf out making herself homeless and sneaking around in the dark probably isn’t helping.

Helena’s choice of words have always stood out to me. She’s calculated, smart, and precise in how she speak just like Harmony. Both of them are masters at saying exactly what they need to without ever outright saying it yk? So when she she spots Cobel in the parking lot in the middle of the night she clocks her immediately.

Harmony walks out as if she still has a job in that bitch and has the audacity to tell Helena what her needs are and exactly how they should be met. And in my opinion, Helena is appalled but not surprised. She calls her out on her behavior.

“I hear ego, hubris, and arrogance. Kier teaches us they only cause pain.”

To me, this isn’t just a read it’s a warning. Harmony doesn’t take it. She bites back, calling Helena a NEPOTISM BABY. wild.

And I mean look at Helena’s face.

So Helena lays it out for her as plainly as possible

“We didn’t have to ask you back.”

No translation even needed, she just said it flat out Baby, we don’t need you here. You do not, no matter what you think, represent us. You are not Lumon.

And Harmony, being just as cunty clocks her shit right back

“You didn’t have a choice.”

At this point, Ms. Cobel isn’t just skating on thin ice she’s walking across a frozen lake in metal combat boots, her ass skipping around as if the ice won’t break. And that’s her mistake.

Helena, after giving Harmony multiple chances to walk away. Multiple chances to come back in on lumons terms. Multiple chances to stop playing in her fucking face, finally pulls back with a kind smile and offers her a chance to “restart”.

As they walk towards the car, Ms. Cobel locks eyes with Helena’s bodyguard and the instant terror is actually insane. Full deer in headlights.

A lot of people saw that shot and took it as a straight-up Sopranos esque death threat like, if she gets in that car, she’s not gonna survive the drive (RIP Audriana). And sure, it could be as simple as that, but this show is just way too good for it to be that simple.

I think Cobel recognizes the bodyguard. She knows him and I mean like fr knows him.

I saw a theory on Reddit suggesting that the bodyguard might be someone she knew maybe a former coworker, someone from her personal life (they suggested it could’ve been someone she was super close with before she even became the woman we know today) idk just somebody she knows knows and out of nowhere suddenly, he’s here, presented as Helena’s bodyguard. But it’s not him. It’s his skin, his bones, his blood but it’s not HIM.

And the way it plays out, it doesn’t seem like the bodyguard recognizes her at least not in the same way she knows him. That stare man that stare. I didn’t even know Harmony could experience fear. Who knows, maybe in that moment she’s reflecting on everything that’s happened. She bitched out the boss’s daughter in this empty ass parking lot on the brink of a mental break down, and suddenly there’s a chance to start over. All she has to do is get in that car, with that man, talk to the higher-ups, and hit the “reset” button.

Basically my theory is that Lumon are essentially grave robbing the fuck out of that town. Taking people who have been in serious accidents car crashes, house fires, construction site falls, factory explosion, hell even a drive by. I also think they’re also taking drug addicts, the homeless people who have no loved ones looking out for them, or even looking for them at all, the ones who are confirmed to be gone in every way, physically or emotionally. They’re taking these people and giving them a full system reset rebooting the computer.

By doing this, Lumon gets to create a free labor force that works 24/7 without question or resistance, exploiting people who have no emotional ties or support systems. Blank slate baby! They’re also using these individuals as test subjects for whatever weird shit they wanna launch out as a new product.

This helps explain a lot of the weird shit going on with the employees at Mammalian Nurturable. They look so rough and are also really off-putting towards outsiders. Which is understandable but I genuinely believe they haven’t even “clocked out” in days, if not ever.

Even though this theory makes the most sense to me, It still has its plot holes like if Gemma isn’t a clone and it’s her “resurrected” where does she go when she’s not her innie. In Season 1, she tells Mark she’s only conscious as her innie for a couple of minutes at a time, and the longest she’s ever stayed “alive” was the 8 hours she spent with his department. So where tf is she if not there as Ms Casey i don’t know man I do not know.

Anyways I have some other general curiosities about the town itself and why Lumon decided to build their main building there. I saw a TikTok video of someone saying it reminded them of company-built towns like Hershey Pennsylvania or Kodak Town, and I agree. Anywho I love this show so much it hurts I hope it never dies I literally missed having an obsession this intense I hope it gets all the love and awards it deserves!!

[cervvsq]

bandages.

inspired by ‘fate is cruel’ by @slaymitchabernathy !

summary: issues between you and coriolanus cause a failed suicide attempt to occur.

WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, major mental heath issues, sharp objects, self harm, silent treatment, manipulation, abuse, speaks about sex but no actual smut, reader is described as his “dumb, little wife”, reader always forgives him, lots of angst today :(

no use of y/n // no name for reader.

masterlist

“…yes, and, no sharp objects around her for a good while…”

“…when the time is right, she may be able to leave the mansion. until then…”

“…take me for a fool, festus? of course i’ve made sure no one finds out about this. it’s already been a great embarrassment between me and those who know.”

the hushed voices of your husband and his colleagues through his large oak door made your heart sink. whether it was out of shame, pain, or anger was beyond you.

pulling the sleeves of your silky nightgown over your wrists, you took one last deep breath and knocked once on the door. like always, it was small. gentle. that’s who you were perceived as anyway. surprisingly, it was hard to be confident and loud when you were married to the most powerful man in panem — especially around his associates. being anything other than the perfect capitol lady was a disgrace to society.

whatever conversation they were having shut down immediately, a few throats clearing as coriolanus’ deep voice gave you permission to walk in. you ignored the uneasy thrill of your heart racing when all eyes of older men were on you, in a small yet beautiful nightgown, usually only for your husbands eyes in your home house. it was strange for him to have this many people here at this time, even in the president’s office.

but many things were strange lately. ever since—

“darling?” that familiar voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you nearly sunk into the floor when the look on the men’s faces had suddenly switched to pity. blinking a few times, you perked your head up to listen.

“i asked if you were alright.” he smiled gently.

“of course. my apologies for the interruption — i hadn’t realised you were busy.” you lifted a delicate hand to brush your luscious hair from your freshly-washed face. this small act caused your loose sleeve to slip from your wrist, causing everyone’s eyes to rip away from you faster than they looked.

apart from your husband’s.

his chiseled jaw clenched for a moment, staring intensely. realising your mistake, you immediately dropped your hand, eyes locking on the floor. suddenly, it felt like you were 5 years old getting scolded in front of your father’s friends.

feeling your whole body suddenly become boiling hot from embarrassment, you refrained the urge to run out the room.

“it’s no bother. what do you need?” you couldn’t even answer before the sound of your husband’s chair scraping across the floor rang in your ears, telling you everything you needed to know. his hand was on your cheek, coaxing you to look up at him. once you complied, he leaned forward, lips by your ear. you avoided looking at all these unknown faces whilst coriolanus murmured words out of earshot to anyone but you.

“give me twenty minutes for me to sort some things, and i’m all yours, i promise. you need rest, i’ll get someone to escort you back to our room.” his words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made you feel sick. you didn’t need someone to escort you to another room in your own fucking house.

biting back the tempting dare to shout, ‘i’m not a fucking child!’ in his face, you simply gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, letting him kiss you on the cheek. he guided you back to the grand oak doors of his office, hand on your lower back for only a few moments before he shut the door as soon as you stepped out.

ᥫ᭡

silent tears felt like knifes as they slid down your angelic face.

with shaky hands, you pulled your sleeve down.

it took all your strength not to scream and bawl at the sight you had to face every night and morning now.

the bandages.

layers of thin, white, woven cotton wrapped around your dainty wrists, a harsh contrast to your smooth skin. the reminder of what you had done haunted you every second of every day.

but it wasn’t the concealment of your wrist that tormented you. it was what held beneath it that really made you crawl. not just the slash — but the memory of that night.

ᥫ᭡

3 weeks earlier…

“…just once, just once, maybe i thought you could be an adult. to be a proper wife, but you can’t even do that. no, really, what can you fucking do, hm?”

your eyes had gotten used to the familiar burn of your tears. the embarrassment grew every time. he always knew what to say to bring you to this state. sat at the end of your large shared bed, sobs strained your raspy throat, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out his harsh words.

it clearly was the end of the world to him, what you had done. you had “ruined your body,” he had spat earlier.

you couldn’t bear to look down at the 4 pink scars on each of your upper thighs. you were an idiot for thinking he wouldn’t notice. why wouldn’t he? after the arguments, after the name-calling, after the gaslighting, it was always the same. he fucked you all night, whispered pleasure-filled ‘apologies’ and left you to wake up to an empty bed and not see any sign of him until 7pm when he would return from work.

“your words really hurt me sometimes, coriolanus…” you choked out. he was so angry, veins bulging from his neck, hair a large contrast to how neat it usually is. he let out a bitter laugh. “my words?”

“do you know how silly your little act is?” he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. the tight grip he had on you didn’t match his sudden calm tone.

“this is what mentally unstable people do, darling. are you unstable? did i marry a crazy person?” he taunted, tilting his head patronisingly. it surely coaxed the reaction he wanted.

a few more tears fell down your flushed face, and you tried shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not crazy, coryo… i’m sorry, i won’t do it again!”

“oh, baby, don’t cry. i know you won’t. i’ll make sure of that.” his hand loosened in your hair, stroking it softly. his words settled you down a little more, oblivious of what was to come.

you lowered your head, leaning forward to press your forehead against his abdomen as he stood above you. still comprehending the whole situation, hectic hitches of your breath escaped your lips and shook your shoulders.

“you know i love you, my sweet girl. it pains me greatly that you’re this stupid sometimes.” his stinging words sounded gentle, so you didn’t pay any mind. you were just coriolanus’ dumb, little wife anyway.

when you didn’t respond, he pulled your hair again, eliciting a strangled mewl. “i know, i love you too..!” you cried out. he nodded, moving his hand down to your cheek.

“are you going to disappoint me again?” he took your chin firmly and shook your head left and right. satisfied, almost amused, a smirk curled on those lips. the same lips of his that can spew the most vile words, and all the more loving ones.

ᥫ᭡

the next morning

waking up, you felt light as a feather whilst the morning light poured through the tall curtains. like usual, coriolanus was probably already at work.

after a night of sex, promises, and praises, it seemed your husband had gotten over your self-harm silly mistake! oh, how clueless you were.

when you walked into your large closet, it felt like you had been shot.

it was all gone.

all your glamorous dresses, expensive shoes, beautiful jewellery.

empty. your side of the space you cherished the most in your house was completely desolate.

breaking down in tears, you ran into the bathroom to your vanity.

also barren.

the only thing displayed on your once packed beauty area was some moisturiser and a toothbrush.

after 10 minutes of crying your heart out on the bathroom floor, you got up and opened your bedroom door, determined to belt coryo’s workplace out until his secretary answered and put you on the phone to him.

two peacekeepers stepped in front of you. before you could open your mouth, one of them recited their orders.

“apologies, mrs snow. you may not leave this area. orders of president snow.”

you could punch one of these men right now.

raising your eyebrows, you gaped at his words. “excuse me? this is my own house!”

they shook their heads. “apologies, ma’am. orders of president snow.”

feeling your eyes begin to sting, you turned around, closing the door and collapsing onto the bed, curling up into a fetal position whilst you cried.

you were stuck here.

when the clock hit 8, you were still in the same position you were in when you laid down. never did any staff bring food, or drinks — so you kept yourself occupied with 2 things. cry. sleep. cry. sleep. not moving once.

not even when your husband’s voice was heard muffled outside the door, probably talking to the peacekeepers. or you. you didn’t care anymore.

the door opened. only a sigh was heard, followed by footsteps.

“sweetheart?” the name only caused your heart to clench. more so when a hand landed on your shoulder. you didn’t move. “what’s wrong?”

this caused your jaw to tighten and your eyes narrow. spinning around, tears already streamed down your cheeks.

“what’s wrong is you locked me in here! all day!” you shouted in his face. “and all of my belongings are gone! you took them from me! you’re fucking evil—!”

his caring act snapped, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down onto the bed. the livid, animalistic look in his eye was something you’ll never forget. he breathed deeply, heavily, closing his eyes as if to calm himself down. lucky for him — barely any air could leave your lungs right now. but he made sure you heard him clearer than you could breathe.

“and clearly, you haven’t learned your lesson. just when i thought you couldn’t get more dense. get up.” he spat the last two words, releasing his large hand around your neck.

spluttering, you gasped a few times, standing up and wincing when he grabbed your wrist tightly. leading you down the hallway, he spoke as you tried to catch up.

“you told me last night it was my words that caused you to hurt yourself.” he scoffed, continuing to drag you along.

he stopped you both in front of a room you hadn’t even been in before, despite living here nearly a year now. “and the clothes, well, i can’t have anyone knowing about your little vice.” he chuckled, as if this was funny at all. “you will get your clothes handed to you when needed.”

you wearily eyed the door in front of you. “what are you doing?”

he sighed. “since my words affect you so much,” he mocked, “i figure it must come to me not speaking to you whatsoever. maybe that will put an end to these games you insist on playing.” he opened the door.

“enjoy your new room.”

ᥫ᭡

2 weeks later

“please, please, coriolanus! i’m sorry! please just talk to me!” you bawled, on your knees in front of him whilst he sat at his desk, skimming over some documents.

he paid you no mind.

no attention, not even a glance.

it didn’t matter how much you screamed, called him names, insulted him, whatever. he didn’t acknowledge you.

you were given dresses by maids whenever there was a dinner or gala you both needed to attend. even then he didn’t speak directly to you, only referring you in conversation with others when necessary.

sometimes you threw up from how much you weeped.

coriolanus was all you knew. despite his behaviour towards you at times, his affection and care fuelled you endlessly. no matter how many times he laid his hands on you, his praises, his touch, was like a million apologies. he broke you repeatedly, then healed you once more. you’d rather have him beat you up and take care of your bruises than this.

for 2 weeks now, he hadn’t laid eyes on you, never mind touched. if he wanted a message across about plans for the week, he got his staff to do it.

there were no more dinners, no more kisses, no more scolding, nothing.

you weren’t permitted out of your room once it hit 7pm. that was the rule all the way to 7am. it ensured you didn’t try to leave, is what the peacekeepers said. you had a feeling it was so you didn’t bother their dear president. the man who was meant to be your devoting husband.

your bathroom was empty apart from a toilet, mirror, toothpaste, and a brush. sure, the intricate design was luxurious, but every room in the presidential mansion had to be spot on. even if you were basically being kept prisoner in it.

the only clothes in your closet were pyjamas and slippers. any fancy clothing were brought to you when needed. you found yourself wondering if coriolanus picked out the dresses.

you were invisible.

so now, as you begged for the 3rd time today for him to give any sign he gave a shit about you, you felt yourself reaching your breaking point. it was his and the staff’s day off, you weren’t missing this opportunity to try fix things. it was going nowhere.

you didn’t even exist in your own house anymore.

standing up, you walked out, leaving his study door open. the tears once pouring down your rosy cheeks had stopped. you almost felt dizzy.

walking into the room which you and coryo once shared, you walked into your his bathroom. top left drawer. that’s where he always went to shave.

when you used to get ready for bed together.

when he would tease you about how seriously you took your skincare routine.

when he would come up behind you and place kisses on your neck.

when you would stand on your tip-toes to shave his face for him.

that felt like years ago.

and suddenly, before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for the spare blades in the packet, taking one out.

you were like a ghost to him now anyway. he was a ghost to you now, too. a ghost of who he was. who was he now? and where did he go?

too much. it was all too much.

with one smooth slash, the blade ran across your vein. just above your pulse. then the other. slash. it was only when the clatter of the blade dropped onto the marble floor, followed by droplets of pure red when the gravity of the situation settled.

what the fuck?

what did i do?

“what did you do?!” coriolanus yelled. his voice never sounded so urgent. turning your head, the last thing you felt was his hand slipping under you, lifting you up before you fainted.

ᥫ᭡

present time.

ever since then, it was like nothing happened. things went back to normal. well, not completely, of course.

it had been exactly a week and a half since the incident, and coryo had put many things in place to ensure your health and safety was protected.

his razors were now locked up.

all jewellery only he got for you, to make sure there were no sharp edges.

no access to the kitchen without any company.

your bandages were changed every other day.

you had to see a doctor every day to check and treat the deep wound.

but no amount of antibiotics and bandages could soothe the mental wounds.

only coriolanus could.

but all of these restricts set in place didn’t bother you. why? because you had gotten him back.

you had moved back into your shared bedroom.

most of your dresses were back.

he spoke to you gently.

he caressed you, he kissed you, he treated you like a porcelain doll.

there was no apology for practically locking you up. you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

after all, you got your coryo back.

even if all these precautions and pitying eyes from the very few people who know do tick you off at times, you would choose this life any day over the one you had when he was so vile to you.

finished crying, you stared at yourself in your vanity mirror. he kept his promise. the door opened, and his lips tugged into a smile when he saw you. walking over, he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “i’m sorry for their prying eyes. how are you feeling?”

you shook your head, dismissing his apology. you hated any references to your attempt. “i’m okay.” you smiled.

coriolanus intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you up from your vanity stool. “my sweet girl.” he murmured, leading you over to the bed.

you laid down, and he hovered above you, his arms wrapping around your small frame. “never do something like that again, please.” he spoke into your hair.

you held your breath.

“i won’t.” you whispered. so delicate, so pure.

shame it was a lie.

as much as you didn’t like lying to him, you couldn’t help it. telling the truth would only make things complicated.

but it was true. you’d do it again and again if it meant you could have this coryo forever. and you’ll be sure to prove it if he ever dared to change again.

ᥫ᭡

oneshot!

[v3lv3tsin]

moonstruck: nishimura riki

| pairning: nishimura riki x reader

I genre: prince!niki, princess!reader

I warnings: no warnings <3

I word count: 1.8k

I stefy's note: just a little something before i actually come back and post the last part of the jungwon series (i'm really sorry it took so long to write but i was busy with uni and some resits), so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

If anyone would have asked what do you like about Niki, you would have said before that it was his smile, but now ever since getting to know him better that answer changed and so have you. His sense of humor, especially when having guest to entertain was what made you two get close to each other in the first place.

It was easy how it happened and since none of you planned for it to happen made it even more special. But your mother never approved of him, saying that he "wouldn't be a good enough suitor for you" nor a good husband from the way he was behaving.

He was known to be more of carefree than other princes were, but maybe that's what made you notice him. Or maybe it was the sly smile he always gave you whenever you'd meet.

What came to your surprise was that although your mother seemed to be very keen on keeping the two of you apart for as long as possible it didn't seem to work all the time. And this was the case for when Niki invited other distinguished guests, such as Mr. Yang, Mr. Park and Mr. Sim, alongside you. Obviously.

To your surprise, your mother seemed to have approved of the invitation long before you could've even proposed the idea to her. Meaning that you would be accompanied by your governess. Saying that you weren't excited even a bit to see him, was a lie in itself. There was no doubt that his father approved of the party to be held at their spring residence. You heard about the stories about the fountains and their respective tricks so being able to experience it sounded perfect already.

So that is how you and your governess, Claire, found yourselves waiting to be escorted into the gardens and fountains of the residence, by Niki and his father. It didn't take long to see Nikis smile widening as soon as he saw you waiting for him and his father to be able to welcome you properly, as if he didn't plan this whole party just to see you and hear your voice. Having to go to all the trouble of convincing his father that having his others friends coming to the party it would distract him from even talking to you in the first place.

Realizing they might be busy with the guests that would have to be arriving soon or they already arrived, the butler escorts you into the gardens with a small grin as if he knew that would happen when you would enter the garden area. As soon as you enter through the gates you're met with a slight splash of water coming from the statutes guarding the fountains at the center of the garden. Although the water didn't get too much on your dress as it wasn't a lot, it made you laugh just a little bit.

One thing is for sure that this was no ordinary party. And another thing that you realized was that water will be involved.

Before being able exit being hit by the water in the first place, you finally make eye contact with Niki, seeing that he was laughing too. Coming to greet and welcome you to their spring residence, were both him and his father. "Welcome to our little house, Mrs. Choi." Mr. Nishimura, Niki's father says on a modest tone, knowing that the residence wasn't close to being little.

"Thank you for inviting me." You smile happily, knowing how much of a fuss was for him and his son to be able to have this many guests in their private residence. Smiling at Niki before to his father, you're met with the news that lunch would be served soon, as one of the butlers came to announce Mr. Nishimura.

"I see that you've already met my son." His father feels the need to point out that your relationship with his son was far from a friendship from what he could grasp at first sight. Without wanting to have more of the awkward silence that seemed to be happening for some time now, his father voices on the same tone as before, making sure to let the two of you talk in peace. "Lunch will be served soon."

"I'm surprised your mother decided to let you come alone." Niki speaks on a teasing tone, thinking it was high time that he talks about most feared topic between the two of you. Your mother. It was true that his father agreed to plan the party and sent you an invitation, and not your mother, knowing that she would never let you come to it.

"She is busy with tonight's party." You answer him giving him barely any information about your plans for the night as you were missing your mother's party instead of being there to help her organize everything. "But you knew that very well." You continue on the same tone wanting to let him know that it was his idea this party, in the first place.

"I missed you." Niki blurs out while rubbing the back of his neck, in a whispery tone as he looks at you. It was true, he did. Ever since you spent more time together he couldn't take his mind off you as much as he tried.

"Lunch should be served soon." You answer by changing the topic, not wanting to talk to him about the feelings you have been developing for him lately. Or ever since you first met him at one of Mr. Yang's parties. Heading to the stunningly looking table, that seemed to made out of stone having around it shining stone seats. One interesting aspect about the stone seats was that they all seemed to have a hole in the middle of them. It did seem uncomfortable at first, but when you saw Niki sit down next you, all of it was gone.

Usually you would be the one to complain about how comfortable or not something was, but it seemed that this was not the case. Everyone around the table seemed to be enjoying themselves, you finally make eye contact with Niki's father who seemed to be in an intense conversation with his son while you were sharing your thoughts with one of Mr. Park's date. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever you could feel something coming from the back of you.

Water. Splashes of water everywhere. Surrounding the whole table. From the front and from the back.

The delicious meal in front of you was not drenched in water and so were you. Not as much as you have except as the dress having so many layers managed to block some of the water coming from the chair you were sitting on.

"Gentlemen, i think it is better to enjoy the view somewhere else." Wearing a smirk on his face was now Mr. Nishimura, Nki's father who seemed to be enjoying the annoyed or the surprised faces of his guests. As much as you hated your mother for forbidding you to see Niki, there was one aspect that you two usually agree on.

Never, under no circumstance, piss of Mr. Nishimura. As charming as his son can be, the Nishimuras have always been known for getting their revenge, one way or another.

Getting up from your seat to follow Niki's father, who was now leading the way to what looked like to be a mechanical music-playing theatre. It was nothing you have seen before. While walking to the theatre you felt Niki's hand holding yours as the two of you followed his fathers lead. The place was beautiful to say the least, each statute had water coming from it in a peaceful manner. Some were showing scenes you have never seen before, such as a demon like face who had its tongue coming out, along with water coming out of its nose or two lovers walking together, hand in hand, in a forest.

Before you could see the theatre in its full glory, Niki whispered to you. "Come, i know a place when we'll be just fine." Just fine? Not being hit by the water again sounded perfectly so you followed him willingly. He surely knew more about the place than you, but knowing him he was surely planning something.

Sitting in front of a tower-like palace you could a court life, showing different professions, whether it is the building work-party, the daily workers who bring building materials to the foreman, who drinks, or the butchers slaughtering an ox, or the barber who shaves a man beneath his guild sign. The palace was surrounded by a three-storey building in a semicircle, partly giving a view into its interior.

Busy  activity  takes  place  on  the  street:  a  dancing  bear  performs, guards march past the Residence, a farmer pushes an old woman in a wheelbarrow  over  the  road.  Figures  from  the  Commedia  dell’arte  are also to be seen, and if one so wishes, one can discern the social status of the figures involved. The most noble move less and more slowly that the workers. 

Holding your waist from behind as you watched the now music-playing theatre was Niki, that was whispering to you new information about the palace-like theatre. "200 figurines, powered by water." It wasn't a lot of information, but thinking that these 200 figurines were moving by the help of water, was something innovative. Considering that the both of you sat pretty far in the back, for any of you to be able to see anything, you suggested moving forward to be able to watch the scene better.

Not long after the mechanical theatre stopped from Mr. Nishimuras signal, water started splashing again. Slower this time, but still a lot. Considering that you and Niki were far back, the water didn't get to you. That is when you decided to ask him, how or why did that happen. Seeing that your curiosity was peaked, Niki answers before you could open you mouth to even ask the question. "This spot is never wet. There's no water conduit here."

Taking your hand in his as his father was now leading the gentlemen to a church looking like building, Niki was leading you outside the beautiful garden. Trying to avoid the water coming from the different parts of them, he took your face in his hands and said on a loving whispery tone. "I waited so long to do this."

Before you could protest, his lips found yours and all seemed forgotten. Your mum not letting you see him again. Your governess having to accompany you to the party. The disapproving looks his father would give you from time to time.

All of it was gone.

© V3LV3TSIN — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[kanansdume]

You started these tags with "oof" and I went back to re-read the second part of this post and... yeah, oof is about how I feel, too. Oh how hopeful I was for something good to come out of that show, BOTH shows actually since I was looking at Mandalorian season 3 as well it seems.

This post is already a little long, so I'll put the rest under a cut, but tl;dr is that I think you're giving the people writing in the Mandoverse SO MUCH more credit than they deserve and they'll likely never do anything good or creative with these characters again.

I don't think that making Sabine a Jedi had anything to do with Sabine at all. A lot of people have pointed out that Sabine is acting like a bratty teenager despite being literally 30 years old and that she feels a lot like an ANAKIN stand-in so that Ahsoka can figure out her feelings about Anakin through her relationship to Sabine. We know that the Rebels Search for Ezra storyline got combined with Ahsoka's show and that they weren't originally intended to be the same story. So it makes sense that Ahsoka likely HAD a padawan-figure originally who was probably a new character and that they just replaced that character with Sabine when things got combined, regardless of what that would mean for Sabine's character.

Sabine doesn't even grow or learn anything by the end of the show. I've see people try to argue that when she left Ezra behind in order to save Ahsoka that it showed she'd grown from when she abandoned everything to save Ezra, except... she's literally just making the same choice for a different person. Thrawn is LEAVING and the whole point of jumping onto his ship is to try to STOP HIM or something, and instead of doing that and helping Ezra, she runs back because one person's life is at stake and now Ezra is alone on that ship and Sabine never has to face the consequences of her own actions. Personally, that doesn't feel like any actual growth to me or like she's learned from the mistake she made by going to get Ezra. The narrative itself doesn't even seem to think that it WAS a mistake she needs to learn from, which leaves her character with literally nowhere to go.

If they were going to bring her back to Mandalore as a leader, they probaby would've been EMPHASIZING her connection to Mandalore rather than basically erasing it. It would've made more sense to leave her family ALIVE, even just ONE of them, to give her more of a connection to that cause. But no, aside from her wearing the armor, there's absolutely no indication she gives a flying shit about Mandalore or its people anymore.

So even if they DID start pushing Sabine in the direction of being a leader again, I wouldn't like it. THIS Sabine should never lead anybody ever. THIS Sabine is a selfish piece of shit who is willing to unleash Thrawn upon the galaxy just to get what she wants. REBELS era Sabine was awesome, and had the makings of a great ruler. REBELS era Sabine had learned mercy and patience and selflessness by the end of the show, while THIS fucking Sabine is impatient, impetuous, irresponsible, and selfish. Nobody should EVER allow the Ahsoka show version of Sabine anywhere NEAR a leadership position, and if they try to do it, it'll just be unbelievably bad writing. Perhaps hilariously bad writing, it could be amusing to see them attempt to make that claim, but it'd still be bad.

And, as you mentioned, they've already put Bo-Katan in as the leader of Mandalore for the THIRD TIME and, ostensibly, destroyed the Dark Saber. There doesn't seem to be any real planning around who gets put in as the leader of Mandalore, to be honest, it just kind-of flip flops and goes to whoever they deem most convenient in the moment. Sabine was being set up for it for a minute until they decided it would be problematic with what they wanted to do with her later in Rebels, so they threw it at Bo-Katan with no good reason. Then they took it away from Bo-Katan in The Mandalorian so that they could set Din up to take on leadership of Mandalore except that then they decided they didn't really like that so they abandoned all of that set-up and tossed it back at Bo-Katan because, hell, she's already there isn't she, might as well just give it back to her because THAT'S satisfying to see! So, sure, MAYBE they'll give it back to Sabine and take it away from Bo-Katan AGAIN later on, maybe Bo-Katan will die fighting Thrawn and so Sabine gets put back in as an option, but I don't have a single ounce of belief that it'll make any sense or feel in any way satisfying.

For all that the Mandoverse is focused on Mandalorians in the extreme, I don't feel like they're writing them all that well or care all that much about giving these characters good strong narratives. Sabine is just the latest in a string of terrible writing choices for their Mando characters.

Sabine Wren is not just the true wielder of the Darksaber, but the only one who should’ve been chosen to rule Mandalore and I will die on that hill.

The entire point of Sabine’s whole arc through the show is that she is learning JEDI VALUES, that she’s learning that the Mandalorian way has its place, but it also has so many flaws and that it’s what has led Mandalore to fight itself into dust. She’s impatient and distrustful and learns to listen with Hera about Fulcrum. She’s more inclined to kill someone out of anger until she learns the value of mercy and second chances from Kanan with Fenn Rau. She tries to pretend her problems don’t exist and won’t truly face them until she learns to wield the Darksaber with Kanan and then goes to make amends with her family. The entire episode with her familiy shows how Sabine brings together everything she’s learned: she waits and listens to her family’s grievances, understanding exactly how her actions impacted them, and then she shows mercy to Gar Saxon rather than killing him after her win like a true Mandalorian would.

Having Bo-Katan claim that the Mandalorian way is a way of MERCY, when we’re intentionally told and shown that Sabine’s willingness to show mercy explicitly goes against her Mandalorian upbringing and teachings and was something she learned from Hera, and from Kanan and his Jedi teachings, is really insulting. The Mandalorian way, as shown through Rebels, is NOT one of mercy, that’s the entire point. Sabine recognizes that, recognizes that that’s what’s caused them so much misery, caused them to turn on each other so much that their planet hasn’t ever had the chance to heal and regrow.

Bo-Katan even says IN THIS EPISODE that Sabine represents the best of what they have been in the past as well as the best of what they could someday become. That Sabine is a true leader.

To have Sabine turn around and say that the Darksaber came to her, after she EARNED IT, for the FIRST time since Tarre Viszla she truly EARNED the Darksaber, just so she could pass it on to Bo-Katan, someone who once gleefully helped set a village on fire after the people she was helping subjugate tried to resist?

I’m sorry, but no.

Sabine Wren is Tarre Viszla’s true successor. Not just as the wielder of the Darksaber, but as Mandalore’s uniter, as its truest ruler. Sabine Wren has the patience and mercy and wisdom of a Jedi with the passion and mettle of a Mandalorian warrior. She has learned to listen as well as she fights, and she has learned how to appreciate different points of view and how to bring them together to create a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

The Darksaber came to her because Sabine Wren always had the capacity to use it to fulfill Tarre Viszla’s vision, to unite Mandalore, to save it from itself, to make it more than it is. The Darksaber came to her specifically because Sabine has the greatest ability to lead Mandalore into a peaceful future.

[witchyliterature]

GOOD AND PLENTY: K.B

witchy tip

➤ eating pomegranate with strong magical intentions in mind can help manifest what you want

18. difficile ad amorem

m.list

breakfast has been set and katsuki did not come to play. your dad assumed by his rush to do the breakfast that he was definitely good - but as soon as he took the first bite, he rushed to finish it.

hell, katsuki surely was husband material, he might keep this love spell just to allow himself to get some good food.

you yourself was no better, the sounds of you gobbling up the food was the only thing heard from you. your eyes had a narrow focus, which was the breakfast in front of you and only that.

“katsuki bakugou, please marry my daughter if you would like!” your dad’s muffled voice was barely registrable.

“what?! don’t go making statements like that!” you exclaimed, your voice equally as muffled as you both stuffed your mouthy to the fullest capacity.

“that’s the plan, sir” katsuki smirked, outting his hand in his sweatpant pockets.

you instantly looked at him shocked. with how awkward the morning was, you assumed that he wouldn’t even look at you as your dad made that comment. clearly, the love spell is still at work.

“anyways, let me get started on your situationship, then i can continue to eat well!” your dad chuckled as you groaned in embarrassment, your dad and you only met yet he was already as cringe as a dad could be.

“alright, sit down in front of my katsuki.” your dad asked softly, to which katsuki confusingly followed.

your dad looked into his eyes, it was a whirlpool between pink and red. his eyes flickered, would then return to normal, only to flicker again in a quick repetition.

“right, i’m going to do something first to check what the hells going on with his eyes.” your dad muttered, to which you nodded vigorously.

your dad put his hands on katsuki’s head, muttering things in latin and before you knew it, katsuki passed out with a projection of his soul coming out of his body, his resting face was a scowl so you knew this was the orginal katsuki.

“y/n l/n, i am going to fucking murder you when i get back. i swear, ill make you suffer.” katsuki’s soul seethed as he turned to face you.

“shit, katsuki, im so sorry! i really-“

“you fucking embarrassed me for weeks! everyone sees me as this stupid lover boy that’s obsessed over you.” katsuki’s seethed yelled back, his voice having a slight echo.

“oh get over yourself katsuki’s, is being seen in love with me that torturous for you?” you rolled your eyes.

“that’s not the fucking issue and you know it.” katsuki’s angrily replied.

you looked at him skeptically, was that a confession? or did he simply mean he doesn’t care that much about what other people think about you two? either way sounds to have romantic connotations.

“then what is?” you asked.

“the fact- you know what, fuck this. get me out and lemme talk to her fact to face, old man.” katsuki looked at your dad as he responded.

“old man is crazy considering im your crushes father but whatever.” you father muttered immaturely.

katsuki looked slightly flustered as he said that, turning to face you and see your reaction only to still look skeptical.

your father then sent his soul into his body and started the ritual through putting a glass charm of a heart onto katsuki’s chest and hovering his hands while a soft glow emmitted from it.

“this doesn’t usually happen you know, once you do a love spell, that’s it, it cannot be broken unless powerful mages or the person itself have the power to stop it.” your dad explained.

“then why does-“

“because, for some reason, his soul and body rejected it. i don’t know how it worked, he clearly already had feelings for you, otherwise the spell wouldn’t have worked so quickly and so powerfully, but his soul was constantly fighting the spell. his spirit was simply too strong compared to the dosage you gave him, and trust me, i can sense that it was a lot.” you dad further explained.

you looked at him and started to understand. katsuki has always been a fighter, it makes sense that his spirit too also wanted to fight.

but, this whole thing about feelings. you knew he had them for you beforehand. you’re just so confused why he never told you? why he flirted with that second year that practically started it all? why he always seemed to make you a second choice?

the sound of a crack broke you out of your thoughts, you looked and saw that heart chart was broken - indicating that the love spell was broken.

katsuki’s eyes fluttered awake, he started to wake up as small groans escaped his lips. with his true soul being dormant for a while, it felt weird finally seeing things with his own eyes rather than was felt like to be a glass mirror.

“katsuki..” you said softly, getting up to walk up to him.

“fuck, i- i need to go for a drive.” katsuki suddenly spoke, his nerves for some reason shot through the roof, and so he sped to the hallway, grabbed his keys and immediately left.

you called out for him, but he has no response, marching his way to his car and driving off quickly.

“leave him, he will come back, don’t worry.” you father advised you.

you sighed, you knew he would, katsuki never left forever. but it sucked that the first time in a while you were seeing him again, he did what he always did and ran from his emotions.

you just hoped that when he came back, a different song would play for you two.

[defuckingthrone-dot-com]

A Dirty Wedding Affair 🌴🌅

Summary: Just a quick little blurb about having a One Night Stand with Noah 

Pairing: Noah x Reader

TW: Sex p in v, oral sex.

A/N: Ever since i saw this picture i thought of this scenario. I talked to @concretejunglefm about it she actually contributed to some of the ideas here. also, title by her! Any way enjoy! xx.

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

I really don't know how I got involved in this situation, I was always careful with things like this. Actually when I think about it, it wasn't really my style to do this type of thing. But here I was hiding behind a damn palm tree decoration on a small reception of this Hotel. I was trying to not get noticed by the guy whose bed I left this morning before he actually woke up. The walk of shame back to my room felt a little too real, and I guess I wasn't hiding hard enough because from the corner of my eyes I saw him walk up with a big smirk on his face.

“Are you really trying to hide behind that flimsy excuse of a palm tree?” he asked with a little bit of laughter in his tone.

“Who me? No, No why would i??” i said a bit too rushed

“Maybe because you sneaked out this morning” I wasn't expecting for him to call me out like that but he was right, i felt embarrassed and i didnt want him to see me. 

“yeah um i'm sorry?” i didn't know if apologizing would make the situation better but i tried anyway, 

His gaze lingered a little too long before he left a subtle laugh “Yeah it's good I ran into you, you forgot this Pixie..”i didn't have time to dwell on the fact he called me Pixie just like he moaned last nice with a few other choice of words because he was already pulling out the same lace pair of panties i was wearing  when i entered his room last night from his front pocket.. “Didn't want you to lose them so I kept them safe.” 

All the blood in me crept onto my cheeks and I can confidently say that I wasn't blushing anymore, I was bleeding red. I realized what was happening and in one quick move I snatched the panties from his hand. 

You're probably wondering how I got here? Well, I'll have to relieve the last 72 hrs for you to understand, so here i go!

It all started when I arrived here, this wasn't a vacation per say but I did plan on having the most fun I could before I had to go back to boring reality back home. My best friend from childhood was getting married this weekend. She had chosen to get married at the beach, which was great for me. I loved the tropical weather and I could enjoy a bit more tanning. 

The first time I saw him I was laid in a lounge chair by the pool. I was grabbing the the book i was reading in one hand and a glass of lemonade on the other, i saw walk in front of me and walk around the edge of said pool to reach the other side, he was with what assume to be his friends, i vaguely remember thinking how i did have Maid of Honor duties to fulfill but not until later that night so stayed a little too long in my spot.

I saw how his colorful tattoos shined under the water with the sun hitting them. he had a little bun of hair on the top of his, and he seem to be just about the tallest man i ever seen, The most gorgeous brown that have ever crossed paths with me, 

He seemed like a lot of fun, and started from my seat. I was wearing sunglasses and half of them covered my face. I thought I was being cautious and not obvious but when he turned to look my way an almost hazy took over me.

Luckily he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at one of his friends that was passing by me going towards him.

I didn't want to seem like a creep so I decided to just get up and go back into my room. I would be lying if I thought he was very attractive but way out of my league but I probably would never see him again so why even bother thinking such a thing. 

The second encounter was by the bar just down the street of the hotel. I probably shouldn't have drank anything before the wedding but I fear I was more nervous than the actual bride. I wanted to take a shot or two before I had to be back to get ready. i sat at one end of the bar when i saw him reaching the other end, he sat down and other his drink,

He was alone this time, i tried not look his way as the bartender put my vodka soda in front of me and maybe i was being paranoid but i could sense his eyes on me, I pulled out my cell phone from my phone and decided to scroll just so i could have something to do and not look dumb. After about of 10 minutes i decided it was time to go i paid for my drinks at headed, 

Once again this was the last time i would probably see him but was i so wrong, 

The wedding had started and everything was going to plan. The music started playing and as the maid of honor I made my way down the aisle to stand by the sidelines. As my best friend walked down the most beautiful princess and the emotions started to come afloat I saw him once again. He was sitting in the 3rd row of chairs. 

My eyes grew wide, I didn't know why I felt the tension, I haven't even crossed words with him once so it was a bit dumb for me to feel this way. I couldn't run so I was just still until the ceremony had ended, But i could tell even by the side of my eye that at that point he was looking at me with a small smile. 

After the beautiful ceremony and my sweat induced head we moved to where the location for the party would be.

I was having such a good time, I mingled amongst the guests, everything was going perfect and I couldn't be more happy for my best friend Bailey. I didn't want my social battery to run out and as the liquid in my glass, I made my way down to the bar. I ordered a vodka soda and as I reached for it and turned around I nearly fell on my ass, I bumped into someone and it almost made my drink spill on my dress. I didn't pay attention to who was standing in front of me as I was trying to clean with my hands the small droplets that did manage to land on my dress.

“If i didn't know any better i would think you are stalking me” i heard a  voice.

“what..? i don't even know who..” as i looked up to meet his eyes i saw who exactly it was “are…” my voice started to windle down.

“3 times in the span of 48 hours seems like a very unlikely crazy coincidence” 

“i don't know what you mean” i tried to stay confidently 

“3 times, darling, 1. by the pool, 2. at the bar down the street this morning and 3. this wedding” he must sense the sheer panic and embarrassment in my eyes “you know i'm just kidding right?” he let out a soft laugh. 

“...yeah, yeah of course!” I said with a shaky laugh.

“if were going to keep running into each other it's best i introduce my self, Im Noah”

“im y/n”

“pretty name for a pretty girl”

“Uh thanks” I didn't know where to look. I was a bit shocked to actually be talking to him.

“So Maid of honor huh?” he asked intrigues.

“Yeah me and the bride we go way back, weve been bestfriends for years” i said preparing to ask him a question, “and you? Who do you know from here?” 

“The groom, we have worked together a few times” he replied back.

“So you're in the music industry, do you like sound tech or something?” i asked 

He stared at me as if i was saying something so out of the box “Not exactly, i'm in a band, and the groom has helped me and band out a lot”

“Ah that makes sense”

We decided to move our conversation over to the table where the rest of his band mates were seated. it scared me a bit how natural the conversation flowed. I was having a really good time with him and the night was almost coming to an end.

By this time both the bride and groom had already left and retreated back to their room, the only people left were the waiter cleaning up the mess and Noah and I. 

“So do you maybe want to go back to my room and chill for a bit..i mean if you would like of course” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes,

I hesitated for a bit, but after a moment I thought nothing wrong could go bad. 

“yeah sure that sounds great” 

We walked down the long hallways of the hotel to catch the elevator, we both knew there was a sexual tension between us and as soon as the doors closed to start ascending the correct floor, his lips were on mine. A sweet slow passionate kiss, where his tongue andmine where dancing in unison

The elevator door couldn't open fast enough, and a brief second we were already outside his door. He struggled to get his key card out of his pocket and as soon as the door he led me over to his bed. He laid me down while he balanced his wight on top of mine 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked 

All i could do was nod, I was too far in and too intrigued on his bedroom skills to say no.

He took over my mouth once more, another kiss, this one more chaotic and wild then the last. He started to slowly pull down the straps of my dress while I in a frantic motion fought to get his pants unbuttoned. 

Clothes started to fly around the room, my dress flew on the floor while my lace panties and bra ended on the side table. His button down shirt somehow made its way on top of the lamp that was sitting on the table in front of the bed, his pants and belt landing with a loud thud on the floor.

And just like that we were both naked. lost in the heat of the moment, Once his lips left mine, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses from my jawline, down my neck, through the valley of my breast. He made a little pit stop at my navel to situate himself between my legs. Once he did so he picked right up where he left off. 

He overlooked my core to also kiss the inner part of my thighs. I was already high due to his touch. He locked down at my core and looked like the most starved man on earth about to eat a full course meal. 

“Pretty pink pussy darling, and you're already so wet” he said as he licked his lips “may i?” 

Once again all I could do was nod. He dove in and once his tongue made contact with my click and a sweet little moan escaped from my mouth. He lapped a few more times at my pussy before he detached  and sent me into oblivion with his fingers. One finger in, slowly taking it in and out, two fingers in, he started to increase the pace of what he was doing. 

He reached just the right spot a few more times of thrusting in and out. 

“ Noah oh god i'm gonna…” I said in almost a whisper.

“No no no Pixie you're not gonna cum until I tell you to, understood?’ 

“yees”

In one swift motion he turned me around, I was now on all four and waiting for his next move. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening. and from what i could tell he rolled it on this cock with ease. 

“hold on tight darling” 

All I could grab was the pillow beside. He did not give me any sort of warning in a matter of seconds he was inside of me. Thrusting in full force. All I could think of unironically was the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails in my head; because what the song was describing was what Noag was doing to me. Fucking me like an animal.

Fast paced, hazy eyes and the smell of raw contact. He slowed down only to catch his breath.

“ah ah Noah..” the moans were escaping my mouth, unable to control them. “It feels so good.”

:”Pixie you're so tight.. So fitting… sooo” Once final thrust in and we were both seeing stars. 

He collapsed on top of me while we both tried to catch our breaths. It was the most exhilarating and mind blowing orgasm that i have had. 

We took a small 15 minute break to hydrate and decompose before we were at it again. By the 3rd round i was so exhausted in the best way possible that i knew come the morning it would hurt to move. The ache of my muscles started to set in and as we laid there naked and vulnerable, My eyes started to close slowly and I succumbed to sleep , no longer fighting it.

By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen, I took notice of my surroundings, slowly taking my gaze through the room until they landed on the spot on the bed next me. 

There he laid asleep covered with a simple white sheet from his waist down, His tattoos brighter than i've seen them the last 3 days. Panic set in my gut, when I looked at my own body, I was completely naked. I scrambled to get off the bed and look for my clothes. I found my dress and my bra but nowhere insight into where my panties would be. I didn't want to wait around for Noah to wait up and kick me out of his room, so I put on what I did find and took my heels in my hand and slowly and quietly made my way to my room. 

Now fast forward to this afternoon where I was face to face again with him. 

“thanks for keeping them… safe.. you know?” i sad blushing and putting them in my purse

“No problem darling, i have a feeling this won't be the last time we run into each other” he said walking away only to turn around in a moment and wink at me. 

I couldn't help but let out a little laugh because I too believed this wasn't going to be the last time we would cross paths..

[lavenderchqn]

✧・┆drunk on love — lyney

— it's the evening of lyney's birthday when you receive a call to retrieve your drunk partner from the lovely hands of his friend group's.

this piece is set after the story of red lines, although it works as a standalone read~

content warning: lyney is drunk. he's silly, but he's drunk.

Your eyes are barely open when your phone rings. You’ve been trying to finish correcting your master thesis for the entire evening, after sending your boyfriend out to spend his birthday with his friends. Taking a glance at the caller, as well as the time, you notice it’s Wriothesley. 

You answer the phone, worry already seeping into your mind. “Hello?”. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong… given Lyney’s ability to handle alcohol. 

“Hi,” Wriothesley says breathlessly, sounding more than exhausted. “Sorry to be calling you so late.” 

“It’s alright, what’s up?” You interrupt, drumming your other hand on your keyboard. “You sound miserable, man.” 

“Tell me about it…” He says voice muffled as if he’s covered his mouth with his hand. “I hate being the designated driver on nights like these.” 

“They made you the designated driver?!” Shock fills your voice. “You didn’t drink, did you?” 

“I didn’t, don’t worry—“ Wriothesley laughs. “Quite amusing to see this lot completely drunk. I mean, Neuvillette has been crying about Furina breaking one of her nails for the entire time.” 

“Ahh, gotcha.” You nod to yourself, hoping that the man will get back on track soon. “Do you need my help with something?” You ask. Wriothesley calling you is not something that happens regularly. At most, he'd only send you embarrassing pictures of your boyfriend. 

“Lyney’s been calling out for you since he took a shot of whiskey. I don’t think I can take him, Furina and Neuvillette home without a drink myself in between…” 

As if on cue, Lyney — the man in question — seems to notice he’s being talked about that. You can hear a sudden movement followed by a cheerful laugh. 

“Hi, baby!~” Lyney’s voice seems more joyous than ever. Yeah, that man is as drunk as a kite. “I miss you so so so much!!” 

“Having fun?” You ask, a small smile gracing your face. Given how stressful the winter season was for everyone involved, with the ever-nearing period of defending their scientific titles approaching, you felt nothing but happiness that Lyney went out to celebrate his birthday with his friends. 

“Not the same without youu…” With how he's speaking, there must be a small pout on his face — his eyebrows knit. “No, no no… Wrio, let me talk man…” Ah. Wriothesley must be making a deal with your boyfriend to retrieve his phone. 

“As I was saying,” The sole sober person speaks. “You’d do me a huge favour by coming to pick your prince.” 

“I’ll go put on my shoes and be on the way.” You say. “Just send me the address. Oh, and don’t allow Lyney to drink more, alright?” 

“Will do. Thanks, and sorry, again” 

The message containing the group’s location comes the moment you end the call. Dressing yourself in anything comfortable, you’re ready to head out and take Lyney’s car. Ever since getting your driver’s license, he swore the only car you’d ever need is his. 

Luckily the road is not too crowded, nor glistened from the rain despite all the inside jokes of Neuvillette’s tears causing it. You arrive without much issue, already spotting the group as you pull up to the parking lot. 

Wriothesley is busy balancing an asleep Furina and Neuvillette who keeps on sobbing, head supported on his shoulder. Lyney’s standing on his two feet, zipping up his jacket. Lovely. Perhaps getting him back to the house will be easier than expected. He seems to spot you, approaching as you park the vehicle. 

His eyes curve into straight lines as he breaks into a smile. Swaying from side to side, he throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. “Missed youuu”

“One child less to care for?” You ask Wriothesley while patting Lyney’s head.

“Unless you turn the car around…” He chuckles, readjusting Neuvillette’s position. “Thanks for the help, really.” 

“Happy to help, Wrio.” With that, you split — each of you heading to their car. With the way you’re both basically dragging other people, it does take a while. “Message me when you’re home!” You shout as he’s settling his friends into the backseat. 

“You too!”   

“You’re going need to let go of me, Love.” You say, still patting Lyney’s head. It’s been almost five minutes of you standing out in the cold, your partner too clingy to allow you to drive the two of you back. “I promise you, once we’re home you’ll get all the cuddles.” 

The blonde turns his head, looking directly at you. It’s unfair, you think, that even underneath this lighting, he still looks like a statue. His hair is unusually curly, and a pair of glasses is balancing on his nose. Not to mention the pure delight in his violet eyes, matching the warm, albeit drunk smile. 

“Pinky?” He extends his finger, looking determined. Of course, he’d make you promise something as silly as this. You quickly interlock with one of your own, moving afterwards to open his door. 

“Get in,” You smile, holding the door for him. “You’re the passenger prince today.” 

All you can hear back is the tiny gibberish thoughts of a drunken man. You help him with the safety belt, and only when you confirm he’s actually buckled in, do you take your designated driver’s seat. 

For the first time during your ride, it’s completely quiet. You’re unsure if Lyney’s fallen asleep, but checking the overhead mirror tells you his eyes are very much awake. His head sways slightly as if he was listening to music. 

“What’s on the playlist?” You ask, leaning your head towards him, as to signal you’re talking to him. 

“Marry you.” 

You blink, momentarily distracted by his response. “Marry you? That’s what's in your head right now?" You tease, stealing a quick glance in his direction. 

Lyney nods enthusiastically, though the movement is a bit too exaggerated in his tipsy state. “Yep! As Bruno says… It’s a beautiful night,” he slurs with a dreamy smile. “I wanna marry youuuuu.” His voice, although off-key, is filled with unmistakable affection, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head at him missing some of the words.

“But I’m honest!” He protests, his pout returning. “I think we should… should get married. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe today? We’re both free today!” 

“Lyney,” You sigh, though you can’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re not even going to remember this conversation in the morning.” 

“Will too!” He insists, crossing his arms in a huff, though his coordination betrays him and he almost smacks himself in the face. “I’ll remember everything. Like how much I love you, and how I wanna spend all my birthdays with you. And how…” His voice trails off, softer now. “How you’re the best thing in my whole world.” 

Your heart squeezes at his words, even if they’re fuelled by alcohol. “Alright, my sweet drunk prince,” You say gently. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can talk about this… grand proposal of yours.” 

“Promise?” He mumbles, already starting to doze off. 

“I promise,” You reply softly, glancing at him through the mirror again. His eyelids are drooping, his lips curled into a content smile as sleep claims him. 

date of posting — february 2nd 2025

[katarandaa]

The Augmentor - part 1

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Pairing: F! reader x Sevika

Set in season 1 between act 1 & 2.

Augmentor: Someone who specializes in augmenting the human body with mechanical or Shimmer-enhanced parts.

Summary: You’re a well-known augmentor in Zaun who - through your sibling Ran - take on a special commission to make Sevika a mechanical prosthetic after her accident.

CW: alcohol use, swearing, smoking.

Word count: 4.2k

AN: this is my first Arcane fic! It's a bit long, but I'm FINALLY happy with it after working on it slowly for WEEKS. This is basically just my MDD universe lol. (There will probably be a part 2). Hope you enjoy ~

PART 2 (coming)

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The music from your speakers was blasting in your workshop, you were bopping your head to the beat while working on a rusty prosthetic leg a customer had dropped off for you to fix. Smoke filled your nostrils as the cigarette you put out in your ashtray didn’t completely extinguish. You didn’t hear the elevator doors open and someone entering your workshop until the volume of your music dropped. You quickly turned around to face the elevator to see Ran through your goggles standing by the speaker.

“Ran!” You propped the goggles you were wearing onto your head and smiled at seeing your sibling dropping by for a surprise visit. “Didn’t expect to see you in here today. Your hand need a fix?”

“Hey, no, I actually have something to ask of you,” Ran said as they made their way down the steps into your shop. You put your tool down and spun around on your stool to face Ran, inviting them to keep talking.

“So, you need to hear me out on this one, YN - I need you to do a commission, -” Ran said and leaned on one of your workbenches.

“I don't know Ran; you know I don't really do commissions anymore. Just doing repairs is so much better,” you said the second you heard them say commission, turning your attention back to fixing the metal leg laid out on your workbench.

You had stopped accepting commissions after overworking yourself, and now you ran your business only doing repairs and occasionally some modifications for people who already had mechanical prosthetics. Doing commissions wasn’t easy work, it took months of work, long hours, loads of people involved and a lot of planning, so you decided to take a step back and work on a much smaller scale.

Ran walked closer to you. “It’s an important request, and I seriously need you to consider doing this job. I told them about your work. We really think you’re the best augmentor in Zaun for this job.” Ran flexed their prosthetic hand, which you had made for them several years ago. You sighed again and glanced at their hand before continuing your work.

“It’s a request from Silco - Sevika needs a mechanical prosthetic,” your heart jumped at the sound of her name. “I know you heard of her accident. They know of your previous work, and they want you to do it; they specifically requested you. The pay is really good, it’s from Silco’s pockets, so you’ll be compensated for your time and hassle, and then some.” Ran really tried to sell you this gig, and you could feel the desperation in their voice. “And I know you have a thing for Sevika, you know-”

“I do not!” you interrupted Ran and snapped your head in their direction. “What makes you say that?!”

 “YN, she’s totally your type, and I’ve noticed the way you look at her and act whenever she’s nearby - you get all stiff and nervous.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. “Is it that obvious?” You almost whispered.

“To me it is,” Ran smirked.

You had met Sevika several times at The Last Drop whenever you were out drinking with Ran or your friends. You had never really spoken, but you knew that she knew who you were; all the shared glances, the drinks sent to your table, thanking her by raising your glass in her direction, your blushing and fiddling. You had always been too nervous to approach her; she seemed to distant, and so unattainable.

“Fuck,” you muttered and couldn’t help but crack a smile. “ I don't know. It’s always too much work doing commissions - the clients always have way too high expectations, they never respect the timeframe I give them, they don't pay what they owe. It’s always such a hassle,” you explained, sliding the goggles off your head and running a hand through your hair. “Plus, if it’s for Sevika I’m gonna be all nervous, what if affects my work and I don't deliver her a good product?”

“YN, it’s gonna be fine. Just do what you’re good at. Please just come meet with them, have a chat about your conditions and the pay. I already told them I would talk to you and bring you in for a meeting tonight.”

You tilted your head back and sighed hard, looking over at Ran. “Ok, fine,” you said, and Ran quickly muttered a quiet “yes”.

Ran came running towards you and wrapped their arms around yours. “You’re gonna do great, I know it.” You wrapped your arms around Ran and squeezed before getting up, both of you disengaging from the hug. “And, maybe you and Sevika can get to know each other a little better-”

“Ran!” You interrupted them and hit them playfully on their arm. “Inappropriate! She’s my customer at this point.”

"Alright, fine,” Ran chuckled. “Just, don't promise them anything you can’t deliver. And don’t let them rush you.” Ran squeezed your arm.

“Don't worry, I won’t. Let’s just go.”

-

The atmosphere at The Last Drop was calmer than usual. The last time you visited was to get a few drinks after work with Ran on a busy night. The same night you had seen Sevika sitting at her usual table, cards in hand and a hefty sum of coins in front of her, the other men around the table looking stressed out with their heads in their hands.

Ran leads the two of you through the bar and up the stairs towards Silco’s office. Outside the door were two guards keeping an eye on the people passing by. They saw Ran and opened the door for the two of you, one of them following you inside.

Inside the office, Silco sat at his desk, and Sevika to your left, sitting on the sofa, a cigarette in her mouth and a whiskey bottle and a glass on the table in front of her. You also noticed that her hair was down, and not in her usual half up half down hairdo; it looked good - maybe even cute.

Ran greeted the two with a nod and closed the door behind you.

“Ran, good to see you,” Silco said from the other side of the room, a cloud of smoke swirled around him from his cigar. “This is the augmentor?”

“Yes, sir. This is YN. She’s agreed to come talk over some terms and hear more about the job.” Ran said and sat down at a round table to the right side of the room. You were stood in the middle of the room as you felt Sevika’s eyes on, leaving your stomach in knots.

Silco looked over at you and stood up from his chair behind the desk and walked in front of it. “Alright. What are these… conditions?” He pointed his hand, which had his cigar resting between his fingers, towards you for you to speak.

“Well, first of all, I’m gonna need to know exactly what you’re commissioning,” you said and put your bag on the floor beside the low table to your left. “I’m assuming it’s not just a mechanical prosthetic.” You crossed your arms over your chest and peeked at Sevika, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, to her left arm, or whatever was left of it, which was covered by her cloak.

Silco quickly took the word: “You’re right. It’s going to be used for fighting, as well as just being a prosthetic. Enhance its strength with shimmer, in a way that makes it more responsive and lethal. Find a way for shimmer to be injected into Sevika’s bloodstream in small doses. Obviously it needs to be sturdy and durable; it needs to withstand blows and return them twice as hard. The attachment needs to be secure - no risk of it coming loose, but make sure it's flexible enough for her to move freely. You’re making a weapon, not an ornament. This sound like something you could do?”

You suddenly felt a little nervous having everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for your response. You looked at Silco.

“Of course, not a problem. But if I am to agree to this, I have a couple of terms. I have my own team of doctors and surgeons who are experienced with installing mechanical prosthetics. And if you want the commission to be done faster, I expect a supply of shimmer. I also want one month pay up front before starting the mech.”

Silco was looking at you as you named your terms, almost threatening. “And a few free drinks from your bar would be nice... Sir,” you added. You heard a light chuckle from Sevika at your last comment.

Silco and Sevika exchanged a look before Sevika broke the silence. “Sounds like reasonable terms to me, sir.” She took a swig from her glass, finishing her drink.

“I can get behind your terms. But I need to know an approximate timeframe,” Silco said as he took a puff of his cigar.

“Usually for mechs like this, the planning and design will take about a week, the manufacturing of the arm itself will take anywhere from three to six weeks. Then there’s the installation, recovery and physical adaptation, which I’m guessing in total will be about three weeks at max, but I’m gonna have to hear with my doctors on that one. So, in total, if everything goes to plan, about two months. But with some shimmer, I will be able to work faster and more efficiently, and Sevika’s healing period will also be sped up.”

A silence grew in the room. You could tell Silco was digesting what you just explained. “I imagine that you probably want this to be done much faster, but good work takes time. I promise you that I will make this commission my top priority moving forward. But I’m not going to rush this to a point where I feel like my craftsmanship gets diminished.”

Another silence fell over the room until Silco broke it. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a job, YN. Don’t disappoint me. I will supply you with shimmer. Don't forget that I want it done as soon as possible.” Silco voice way low, almost threatening. He turned his back to you and sat back down behind his desk. “When will you be able to start?”

“I can have you come over to my workshop tomorrow so I can have a proper look at you,” you said and looked at Sevika - she nodded in agreement.

“Great. You two have a plan. You,” Silco said, pointing at the guard standing behind you by the door. “Get the girl her pay.” The guard nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind you.

“I’m gonna need your address,” Sevika leant forward and looked at you with an intimidating look, taking a long puff of her cigarette and exhaling it through her nose. She looked really good. Fuck. You tried to push your thoughts aside; you had to remain professional.

“Oh! Right, of course!” Your nerves had gotten to you. You grabbed your notebook and pencil from your bag on the floor and scribbled down your name and the address, the name of your workshop, as well drawing a quick silly doodle at the end of it out of habit and handed the note to Sevika.

“You enter through what looks like a tinker’s shop, or a salvage shop, you’ll see a sign that says Junk and Joints and loads of scrap in the windows - can’t miss it. Just tell whoever’s in there you’re there for me and they’ll send you down,” you explained. You thought you saw a slight smile tug at Sevika’s lips as she looked at your note.

The door opened and the guard came back with two pouches in his hands. He walked over to Silco who was sitting at his desk reading over some paperwork. Silco looked at the pouches, squinted and waved his hand before looking back down at his papers. The guard walked over to you and dropped the two heavy pouches on the table in front of you. “Your pay.” The guard said and exited the room again.

“Ooh, thank you…” you muttered and looked inside them. In one of them was your money. In the other, vials of shimmer, looking to be enough to last you about two weeks. You put them in your bag along with your notebook.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she looked up at you and gave you a slight nod, her face back to being stern with her cigarette hanging from her lips.

Your heart fluttered for a second before speaking. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” Ran came up behind you and put their hand on your shoulder and walked towards the door. You quickly flung the now heavier bag over your shoulder and exited the office with Ran.

As you heard the door shut behind you, Ran turned to you. “You did good. They seemed to like you.”

“Were you concern they wouldn’t?” you said playfully as you walked down the metal staircase.

“No, not really, but they don't fuck around. You would know if they didn’t like you.”

“Shit ok, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that beforehand - I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool.” You walked to the front door before stopping and turning to Ran. “I’m gonna head to the shop and get started on some ideas. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good luck,” Ran gave you a quick hug. “See you!” You waved at Ran and headed out.

-

You were sitting at your workbench doodling in your notebook with a cigarette between your lips - your music was playing from your speaker, but this time it didn’t drown out the sound of the elevator arriving at your floor. You felt your heart race as you saw Sevika stepping into your workshop.

“This a good time?” she asked and looked around.

You shot up from your stool and picked your cigarette from your mouth. “P-perfect time! Please, have a seat in my so called - living room,” you stammered and gestured to the other side of the room; an old sofa and two armchairs, and a small run-down coffee table with a few old mugs, an empty wine bottle, a candle and an ashtray.

Sevika walked over and sat down on the sofa against the wall as you hurried over to your speaker to turn the music down, now barely audible.

“Alright, so, I’m gonna ask some questions and I’m gonna need some measurements after,” you walked over to ash your cigarette in the ashtray and took a seat in one of the armchairs, notebook and a pencil in hand.

“I got the whole ‘mechanical shimmer arm that deals possibly fatal blows’ shtick,” you waved your hands in the air as you spoke, “but do you have any other requirements that I should know of before I start?”

“The most important part is functionality. If it can’t win me a fight, it’s useless,” Sevika lit a cigarette, taking a long drag from it before continuing. “It needs to have some sort of buff to it.”

“Shimmer can help enhance the hits by hydraulic force, and as Silco requested, I’ll integrate a shimmer system for both injection, infusion and storage - so I don't think you can get more fit for fight than that.”

She nodded. “It also needs to be durable – I don't want you skimping out on the materials here,” she said in a demanding tone. “Don't have the time to constantly come in for repairs. I need reliability with this thing.”

You nodded your head and smirked. “Of course, only the best.”

Sevika scoffed and took another drag from her cigarette. “And it can’t be too heavy, I’m gonna be wearing it outside of combat as well. So don't go too crazy with your fancy mats.”

“Sure, no problem,” you spent a few minutes jotting down some more ideas in your notebook.

“I made an exception for you, y’know.” You broke the silence.

“That so? Why?”

You shrugged. “I stopped doing commissions, but Ran practically begged me to take this job. And when I heard it was for you, the decision was kind of a no-brainer – it seemed important, so I wanted to help.”

Sevika scoffed, smoke from her cigarette exiting her nostrils. “You and Ran close?”

“You could say that,” you smiled and kept your eyes on your notes. “Alright, if that’s all, I wanna get some measurements of you while you’re here,” you said as you stood up and walked over to your workbench to get some tools, as well as a whiskey bottle you spotted on your shelf.

“You want a drink?” you asked and held up the bottle.

“Sure.” She fumbled with the buckle of her cloak for a few seconds before getting it, she swiftly slid it off and left it on the sofa arm. Under her cloak she was wearing a tank top, revealing her broad shoulders.

You grabbed two clean cups from your shelf. “It’s nothing fancy, just some stuff one of my customers brings along whenever she visits for repairs,” you explained as you walked over to the sofa where Sevika was sitting and put the cups and the bottle on the table. You nervously sat down on her left side and poured the two of you a drink, Sevika immediately finishing hers.

Sevika shrugged. “Not bad. I’ve had worse.”

You took a sip of your drink before turning towards Sevika to finally have a look at her.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen an amputee; you had seen several people having lost anything from legs and arms, to hands, feet, fingers, even noses. Prosthetics was your most common request when you took commissions, and you keep repairing all sorts of prosthetics. But Sevika’s amputee scar looked different. The scar had healed nicely and it looked fine - besides the blue lines going from her healed wound up her shoulder and neck to her cheek, and over her chest, her tank top hiding the full extent of it. They looked like scars, and they almost had a blue shine to them. It kind of looked like she had been struck by lightning. You had never seen anything like it; it looked cool, but you would never dare tell her that.

Sevika leant forward refilling her cup with whiskey as you gently touched her shoulder, she briefly flinched at your touch and gave you a nasty side eye, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m gonna have to touch you, y’know,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Sevika scoffed and picked up her cup, bringing it to her lips. “As you please,” she muttered and glanced at you. You felt your cheeks go warm at her comment.

Her shoulder was stiff, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of the amount of muscles this woman had, or her being uncomfortable because she was showing you something vulnerable - or maybe a mix of the two. She probably wore the cloak for a reason.

You got on with the prep work, pulling out your measuring tool to measure her shoulder, jotting down the numbers as well as thoughts and ideas in your notebook, even things you might not even need, just to be sure.

“Could you stand up for me?” you asked and stood up, holding out your measuring tool.

Sevika looked up at you and hesitated for a moment before ashing her cigarette in the ashtray on the table and getting up. You almost gasped at her big frame and height as she stood up in front of you, she glanced down at you, waiting for you to do your thing.

Sevika kept her eyes on you with a stern look as you stepped onto the table to get better access.

“Hold out your arm for me?” you asked quietly. She obeyed, and you measured the length of her arm, as well as the width, quietly muttering the numbers so you would remember.

“How close?” Sevika broke the silence.

“What?”

“You and Ran.”

You chuckled at the fact that Sevika had been thinking about your earlier mention of the two of you being close. “Oh, we grew up together – we’re siblings. Their parents took me in when I was a kid.”

You wrapped the measuring tool around her neck and put your hand behind her to grab onto the tool, looking at the measurement.

“People often think we’re a couple. We don’t quite look alike, but if you know we’re siblings you can tell how our demeanors are similar. And we have the same laugh.”

Standing this close you could smell her; she smelled woody, like cigarettes and whiskey. So hot. You gave her a quick glance and saw that she was looking directly into your eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips.

You snapped out of the moment and stepped down from the table, grabbed your notebook from the table and wrote down the measurements.

You heard a sigh from Sevika as she sat back down. “What the hell are all these measurements for anyway? Aren’t you just making me an arm?” Sevika asked and grabbed her drink.

“A lot of these are just-in-case-numbers; I don't wanna be running around Zaun trying to find you in case I missed a measurement.” You sat back down and kept your notebook in your lap.

“You don't?” Sevika smirked and took another sip of her drink.

You could feel your cheeks get hot again. “Not really, no,” you chuckled. “But if you’re not running around doing Silco’s dirty work, you’ll probably be at The Last Drop.”

“You might be right about that.”

“But – to answer your question, there are a lot of things that go into making a prosthetic arm. I want to get the size of the mech right; don't want it to be loads smaller or larger than your other arm. And I’m gonna be making you a harness.” You took a swig from your drink.

“What am I gonna be needing a harness for?” Sevika asked, her tone was as sharp as usual.

“When you get your arm surgically attached, you’re gonna have to keep it in a harness for a few weeks while it heals. And the weight and feel of the arm is also gonna take some time to get used to - don't wanna fuck up your shoulder. It’s just for the first few weeks,” you explained, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “I don't doubt your strength, but it will get tiring, no matter your physique,” you pointed towards her with your pencil. “Especially if you’re gonna be fighting with this thing.”

“Guess you have a point,” Sevika muttered. “But I can’t be completely useless for too long. I have shit to do - business to deal with.”

“I know you do, but you have to take the healing period seriously. If it doesn’t heal right you’re just gonna make this take even longer.” Your tone was strict.

Sevika just scoffed and took a swig from her cup. Her hand was so big compared to the cup, her fingers to long and her fingernails pristine, which was kind of surprising. You sat there observing her for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance.

“I-uh, have everything I need from you, at least for now,” you put your notebook on the table. “I want you to come back when the first part of the prototype is done so I can make sure it’s a good fit for your shoulder before we commit to anything. Then you’ll also be able to have a look at the blueprints - see if you like the design and stuff.” You leant back into the sofa, putting one leg up, your knee to your chest.

“Sounds good. When do you think that’ll be?” Sevika dragged her cloak back around her shoulders and fumbled with the buckle for a few seconds.

“I think I’m gonna need about a week to design and plan all of it, and about one or two more weeks to make the first parts of the prototype, depending on how long the shimmer Silco supplied will last me.”

“You know how to reach me?” Sevika turned her head to look at you, her face stern, but not intimidating as usual.

“I’ll find a way, but I’m guessing I’ll find you at your usual spot at The Drop.”

“Oh yeah? My usual spot?” Sevika smirked.

“Yeah, I know where you like to sit. Seen you gamble and put some of those crude old men to shame,” you said and chuckled lightly.

“You calling my men crude?”

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled smugly.

“Hm. You might be right,” she grabbed her cup and finished her drink. “Guess I gotta get back to my crude men.” She stood up from the sofa, the weight of her moving shifting you slightly.

“Alright, you do that. I’ll see you in a few weeks!”

“See you.” Sevika gave you a nod and a smirk as she got into the elevator.

[ni-idea-07]

you will never be alone again.

Platonic Yandere Jason Todd X Reader.

TW: illegitimate siblings, cheating, mild yandere, mutilation threats, non-graphic mutilation, paranoia, threats. English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes

Somehow Jason found out he had a younger sister. It didn't really matter how he found out, but he was excited and panicked at the same time. Well, he had a lot more emotions on his mind.

He had to find you and see you for the first time in person which touched him the most.

You weren't of age yet and you weren't a baby, you could take care of yourself, but he wouldn't allow you to be alone like he was in the past.

–"Hey, brat, how much for a candy?"

You were surprised when he asked you, after all he was twice your size and he didn't seem like the kind of person who would buy the ugly and cheap candy you sold out of obligation.

Once you told him the price, he pulled out his wallet, a rather full one, you threw away the box of candy and took his wallet from him, leaving him with a smile.

He wouldn't chase you, he already knew where you would go.

Like every night you returned to the shelter where they let you sleep, that night you slept well, when you gave the money to the "Madam" - as everyone called her - she let you sleep in a bed and gave you decent food. She always took in children and forced them to sell candy so they would bring money, if they didn't bring anything at the end of the day they wouldn't eat, but those who brought enough money could eat and sleep well for a week.

The next morning you woke up feeling strangely satisfied. You had brought more money than usual and you hadn't had to run too much to get it. The "Madam" had given you a decent bed and a hot meal, which was a luxury in your daily life. But that feeling of security didn't last long.

As you stepped out onto the street with your box of candy in hand, you ran into the same man from the night before.

Jason Todd.

You didn't know his name yet, but his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall, muscular, and with an expression that seemed a mix of amusement and something more... dark.

–"Morning, little thief"– he greeted you with a sly smile, leaning against a lamppost. I hope you slept well with my money.

Your body tensed. It wasn't the first time you'd stolen, but you'd never encountered someone who came back for what was theirs. Or worse, who seemed to enjoy the game.

–"I don't know what you're talking about" – you muttered, feigning disinterest as you tried to walk away.

Jason chuckled, but his hand moved quickly, catching your wrist with ease. He didn't hurt you, but his grip was firm.

–"Oh, come on. Don't worry about it."

–"Consider it a gift."– He leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper. –"But tell me, do you like that place?"

Your expression hardened. You didn't understand what he meant.

–"I mean, the 'Madam' and her cute way of treating children. Making them work for their own food... that doesn't sound very fair, does it?"

Your stomach clenched. You didn't know why, but something about the way he said it made you feel uncomfortable.

–"It's none of your business"– you muttered, trying to let go of your wrist.

Jason didn't budge. His eyes, a deep blue, shone with something you couldn't figure out.

–"It is. And even more now that I know you're my sister...."

Your breathing stopped.

–"What... what did you say?"– you whispered, feeling the world around you shake.

Jason smirked, as if he'd been waiting for that reaction.

–"Yes. You're my little sister. I looked into it."

–"Don't worry about the details, the important thing is that I found you."

His other hand rose to ruffle your hair with a strange tenderness-. And now that I know you exist, I'm not leaving you alone in this hole.

Your instinct told you to run. To flee immediately. But Jason's grip tightened a little more, as if he could read your mind.

–"Calm down. You don't have to decide anything now."

His smile turned a little colder. –"But I'll make one thing clear to you..."

He leaned in, his breath brushing your ear.

–"If that woman ever lays her hands on you again or forces you to work one more day... I'll cut off her fingers, one by one."

A chill ran down your spine. There was no anger in his tone. There were no screams or empty threats. Just a promise said with the calmness of someone who would really do it without thinking twice.

And for some reason you knew he meant it.

Things went on as usual for the next few days... or at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. But the feeling that someone was watching you never went away. Sometimes, when you turned a corner, you saw a silhouette that disappeared too quickly. Other times, you felt a presence nearby when you were selling candy, as if someone was making sure everything went well.

And worst of all: every time you brought money to the shelter, the Madam would You looked more closely. Something had changed in her attitude.

One night, when you returned after a particularly long day, you found her waiting for you with her arms crossed and a tight smile.

–"You've been bringing too much money lately."– Her voice sounded sweeter than usual, which only put you more on alert. –Who have you been kidding, sweetheart?"

Your jaw clenched. You knew any wrong answer could cost you dearly.

–"I'm just selling well"– you replied calmly.

The Madam clicked her tongue, approaching with slow steps.

–"Don't lie to me. I've seen that man following you. Tall, leather jacket... too well dressed to be a common customer."

Your stomach churned. You couldn't deny the obvious.

–"I don't know what you're talking about."

The slap came before you could react. Your cheek burned, but you didn't make a sound. It wouldn't be the first time this happened, and you knew that reacting would only make her continue.

–"Listen to me, you little shit"– her voice sounded icy. "If you're saving money or if you're thinking of leaving, you'll regret it."

You didn't answer. You knew you didn't need to.

That night, as you lay down on the bed you'd won, fear settled in your chest. Not just because of the Madam, but because you knew Jason was right. You weren't going to last much longer here.

And sure enough, the next day, Jason stopped watching from the shadows and took matters into his own hands.

When you left the shelter, you found him waiting for you right outside, leaning against his bike with a bored expression.

–"Good morning, sis. Ready to move in with me?"

You opened your mouth to refuse, but he just held up a hand, stopping you.

–"I don't want to hear excuses. I know what that witch did to you last night."

His gaze hardened for a moment. –"I made sure she never touches you again."

Your body tensed.

–"What did you do?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly.

–"Nothing too drastic... yet. I just made it clear that if she tried to hurt you again, she'd lose more than just her fingers."

You didn't know what that meant exactly. You didn't want to know.

But when you looked back at the shelter, you saw the Madam peering through the window, her face pale as a ghost.

Your chest tightened. You didn't want to admit it... but being with Jason seemed safer than staying here.

The days with Jason in his apartment were... strange.

The place was horrible, unkempt and almost empty.

There was no decoration, just some functional furniture and a couple of guns lying around, as if they were decorations. The smell of gunpowder, cigarettes and old coffee permeated the air. Still, everything was in perfect order. Jason had made an effort to clean the apartment because he was afraid that you were allergic to dust.

Still, the real danger was him.

Jason was not normal.

From the first day, he behaved intensely. He wouldn't let you go out alone, always having an excuse to accompany you. He insisted on knowing what you were doing all the time and, if you took longer than expected in the bathroom or kitchen, he called your name impatiently, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

And when you didn't get an answer right away... well, you'd learned that Jason didn't have much patience

One time, you locked yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes longer than usual because you wanted some peace. You hadn't thought it would be a problem... until you heard a loud BANG and the sound of the door being smashed in.

Jason walked in with his gun drawn, his eyes red with fury and his breathing ragged.

–"What the hell were you doing!?"– he demanded.

Your heart stopped.

–"I... I was just in the bathroom..."

Jason stared at you for a second, then let out a shaky breath.

–"Don't do that. Don't make me worry like that."

And then, without warning, he hugged you.

It wasn't a warm, comforting hug. It was tight, suffocating, almost desperate.

–"You can't leave me alone. Not again."

His words made your blood run cold.

Again.

You had no idea who he was referring to. But in that moment, you knew it didn't matter.

Jason wasn't sane.

And you were stuck with him.

==================================

Thanks for reading.

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Regards.🫠

[koyagifs]

𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

pairing: wooyoung x reader au: ceo | trophy wife genre: angst word count: 2.3k synopsis: finally having enough, you put yourself first. warning(s): cheating, cursing, pregnancy

Wooyoung stepped out of the steamy bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair. He glanced at you sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands resting on your belly. His lips curved into that familiar grin—the one that used to make your heart skip but now left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Hey, babe," he said casually, his voice as smooth as ever. "You okay? You look tired."

You forced a small smile, though your grip on your belly tightened. "Just the baby kicking. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, walking over to grab a shirt from the dresser. The scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering steam filled the room. You watched him, trying to decide if now was the time to confront him or if you should keep playing along until you figured out what to do.

Your eyes shifted to his phone on the nightstand, its screen dark now. The memory of those messages burned in your mind. His assistant wasn’t just friendly—she was crossing lines that no one should cross, and he hadn’t stopped her.

"Did you talk to the doctor about next week's appointment?" you asked, trying to keep your tone even.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, slipping a shirt over his head. "Yeah, everything's set. I’ll be there, don’t worry."

You wanted to scream. He sounded so normal, so convincing, as if nothing was wrong. As if he wasn’t betraying you again.

"Good," you replied, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I need you there this time."

Wooyoung stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Of course I’ll be there," he murmured, his gaze softening as it dropped to your belly. "You and the baby are all that matter to me."

His words should have comforted you, but they didn’t. Not with those messages fresh in your mind. Not with the weight of his lies pressing down on your chest.

You nodded, holding his gaze, but inside, you were already planning your next move. This time, the makeup sex wouldn’t be enough to fix things. This time, you needed more.

The doctor entered with a warm smile, her clipboard tucked under her arm as she closed the door behind her. "Good morning, Y/N," she greeted, her tone cheerful and professional. "How are we doing today?"

You offered a polite smile, though your nerves were evident. "I’m okay," you replied softly, your fingers still fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

The nurse beside you gave you a reassuring pat on the arm. "It’s normal to feel a little anxious," she said kindly, her voice calming. "You’re almost there."

You nodded, stealing a glance at the empty chair next to you. It wasn’t like you expected Wooyoung to show up this time—not after what you’d discovered—but it still stung.

The doctor took a seat and flipped through your file. "Well, everything’s been looking great so far," she said, glancing up at you. "Are there any concerns or changes you’ve noticed since your last visit?"

You hesitated, debating whether to bring up the stress you’d been under. Would it matter? Would it even help? "Just the usual," you said instead. "The baby’s been moving a lot more, and I’m a bit more tired than usual."

She nodded thoughtfully, making notes on her clipboard. "That’s to be expected at this stage," she assured you. "We’ll do an ultrasound today to check on the baby’s position and make sure everything is progressing as it should."

Your heart clenched at the mention of the ultrasound. It was something you’d always looked forward to, but now, it just felt… hollow.

The nurse began preparing the equipment while the doctor stood. "Go ahead and lie back, and we’ll take a look," she said with a smile.

You did as instructed, trying to relax as the cool gel was applied to your swollen belly. The familiar whir of the machine filled the room, and soon the screen lit up with the grainy image of your baby.

"There we are," the doctor said, pointing to the screen. "Everything looks great. Strong heartbeat, good position. Your baby’s just about ready to make their debut."

You smiled faintly, tears pricking your eyes. For a moment, the weight of everything else disappeared. It was just you and your baby.

But as the doctor wrapped up the appointment and you wiped the gel from your belly, reality came crashing back. You were going through this alone, whether Wooyoung was physically there or not.

You thanked the doctor and nurse, scheduled your next appointment, and left the office with a deep breath. As you walked to the bus stop, you placed a protective hand over your belly.

"I’ve got you," you whispered. "No matter what happens, it’s you and me."

Wooyoung's phone buzzed incessantly on the counter as he stood in his kitchen, scrolling absentmindedly through his messages. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening when he saw the name flashing on it: Minji.

Her texts were coming in rapid succession:

“Wooyoung, please, it’s urgent.” “I need you to come over right now. It’s an emergency.” “Don’t ignore me, Woo. You promised you’d be there for me, too.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew today was important—your appointment, your baby, the family he was supposed to be prioritizing. But Minji wasn’t stupid; she knew exactly how to play him.

He hesitated, guilt clawing at him. He told himself it wouldn’t take long, that he’d swing by, see what was so urgent, and then make it to the appointment. Surely, you wouldn’t notice his absence right away.

By the time he pulled into her driveway, his mind was spinning with excuses he’d feed you later. Stepping out of the car, he was greeted by Minji at the door, her expression a mix of worry and triumph.

“You came,” she breathed, clutching her chest dramatically.

“What’s the emergency?” he asked, stepping inside and glancing around for any sign of chaos.

Minji hesitated, her lip quivering just enough to tug at his conscience. “I… I just didn’t know what to do,” she said, her voice wavering. “I needed you.”

“Minji, I can’t keep doing this,” Wooyoung said, his tone low but firm. “You know I have a family to think about. I have responsibilities—”

“I know,” she cut him off, stepping closer. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her hands reached for his. “But what about me, Woo? You’ve been there for her all this time. I needed you today, too.”

He sighed, torn between the mess he’d created and the mess he was still walking into. As she stepped closer, the faint smell of her perfume filled his senses, clouding his judgment.

Meanwhile, at the clinic, you sat in the bus stop, staring at your phone. You’d called Wooyoung twice, left a message, and even sent him a text. No response.

Your hand rested protectively on your belly as your mind filled with anger and sadness. Deep down, you knew where he was—or more accurately, who he was with.

But this time, something inside you shifted. The disappointment wasn’t just another wave to ride out. It was a breaking point. You weren’t going to let him keep doing this—not to you, and definitely not to your baby.

If Wooyoung wanted to keep playing these games, you were ready to end them. For good.

Wooyoung cursed under his breath as he stumbled out of Minji's apartment, his shirt half-buttoned and his shoes barely on. His phone buzzed in his hand, mocking him with the missed calls and unread messages from you. Guilt twisted in his chest, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from making the choices he had.

Minji leaned lazily against the doorway, her silk robe draped around her as she smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "You better hurry, lover boy," she called out teasingly. "Wouldn’t want your little family to get suspicious."

Wooyoung shot her a glare but said nothing, slamming the door behind him as he hurried down the stairs. His mind raced as he thought about what excuse he could give you this time. Traffic? A work call? Something believable but not too rehearsed.

Sliding into his car, he started the engine and sped toward the clinic, his stomach twisting with every second that ticked by. He kept glancing at his phone, seeing your name on the screen, the time stamp of your last message glaring back at him: “Where are you?”

His heart dropped when he made it back home, he was expecting another ultrasound picture that you usually sent but nothing. When he entered into the house, it didn't even feel like home. When he walked up the stairs, that's when he heard the sniffles. His heart broke when he saw Yeosang pacing back and forth in your shared room. A luggage on the bed beside you as Yeosang helped you packed.

Wooyoung froze in the doorway, his breath hitching as the scene unfolded before him. You sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaking your face as you clutched a folded onesie in your hands. Yeosang paced the room, his jaw clenched and his movements tense, clearly trying to hold himself together for your sake.

The sight of the open luggage on the bed made Wooyoung’s chest tighten. This wasn’t just an argument, wasn’t just a bad day. This was you leaving.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung started, his voice low and shaky, stepping into the room.

Yeosang stopped pacing immediately, his sharp gaze snapping to Wooyoung. “Don’t,” he warned, his tone cold and biting. “You don’t get to come in here like this. Not after what you’ve done.”

“What are you talking about?” Wooyoung asked, his voice defensive but laced with guilt. His eyes darted between you and the luggage. “Baby, let me explain—”

You looked up at him then, and the raw pain in your eyes made him falter. “Explain what?” you choked out, your voice trembling. “Explain why you couldn’t even bother to show up today? Why you were with her instead of being with us?”

Wooyoung’s throat tightened, and he reached out as if to comfort you, but Yeosang stepped in front of you protectively, his expression daring Wooyoung to try.

“I waited for you,” you continued, your voice growing stronger despite the tears. “I sat there, hoping you’d walk through the door. And when you didn’t, I realized… this isn’t the first time, Wooyoung. It’s a pattern. And I can’t—I won’t do this anymore.”

“Y/N, please,” Wooyoung pleaded, his voice breaking as he tried to step closer. “It’s not what you think—”

Yeosang let out a humorless laugh, cutting him off. “Not what she thinks?” he spat. “She knows exactly what it is, and so do I. You’ve been lying to her, to all of us. And now, you’re losing her because of it.”

Wooyoung’s hands balled into fists at his sides, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue. He knew Yeosang was right. But his ego didn't let it go. He went down on his knees, crawling towards you as he began to cry.

You froze at the sound of his knees hitting the floor, his sobs echoing through the room as he crawled toward you. The sight of Wooyoung, usually so cocky and full of bravado, breaking down in front of you was almost too much to bear. But then you remembered the sleepless nights, the loneliness, the betrayal.

“Baby, please!” he cried, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. “She meant nothing to me, I swear! It was a mistake—just a stupid, meaningless mistake. Don’t leave me. Don’t take our baby away from me.”

Yeosang stood protectively beside you, his hand steady on your back as he stared down at Wooyoung with thinly veiled disgust. “You should’ve thought about that before you kept running back to her,” Yeosang said coldly, his voice cutting through Wooyoung’s desperate pleas.

You clenched your fists, torn between anger and heartbreak. “A mistake?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “Wooyoung, this wasn’t just one mistake. It’s been over and over again, and every time, I let myself believe your lies. But I can’t do it anymore. I won’t do it anymore.”

Wooyoung shook his head violently, his hands clutching at your knees as he begged. “I’ll change! I’ll prove it to you—I’ll do anything. Just… don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose our baby.”

You stared down at him, your heart breaking into a million pieces. For a moment, you thought about the man you fell in love with, the man who made you laugh and promised to build a future with you. But that man felt like a distant memory now, buried under the lies and betrayal.

“You already lost us, Wooyoung,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. “Not because I’m walking away, but because you pushed me away every time you chose her over us. I’ve given you so many chances, and every time, you broke my trust.”

He sobbed harder, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face against your legs. “Please, Y/N. Please, just one more chance. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything.”

Yeosang stepped forward, his hand pulling Wooyoung’s arms away from you with a firm but gentle touch. “Enough, Wooyoung,” he said firmly. “You need to let her go. She’s made her decision.”

You took a shaky breath and looked at Yeosang, grateful for his strength when yours felt like it was crumbling. “Let’s go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Yeosang nodded and helped you steady yourself as you turned toward the door. Wooyoung’s cries followed you, his broken voice pleading one last time.

“Y/N… please don’t leave me. I love you!”

You paused at the doorway, tears streaming down your face, before turning to look at him one final time. “If you loved me, Wooyoung,” you said, your voice trembling, “you wouldn’t have done this.”

And with that, you walked out, leaving him on his knees, the weight of his choices crashing down around him.