#do you ever just feel the pain in someone's eyes?
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bestalbertcamuslover · 3 days ago
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Her Ex Got Engaged
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✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯
✯ content warnings: None✯
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Almost two years had passed since the end of the longest relationship she had ever had. Six years that had introduced her to romantic love—and to romantic deception. She could still picture the subtle yet undeniable shift in his expression as she spoke animatedly about the future she envisioned for them. It wasn’t until much later that she realized that moment had been a warning, a quiet revelation that he did not see her in his.
She soon learned what a breakup truly felt like—the endless crying, the ache in her chest, the unbearable helplessness. Absolute hell.
Looking back, though, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the conversation that ended it all. Painful as it had been, it had given her the clarity she needed. It had hurt—stung far too much—to realize he had known for some time that she was not the one but hadn’t ended things sooner. She had spent too long wondering why. But perhaps, if he had, she wouldn’t be where she was now—with someone who loved her the way she deserved. And for that, she was grateful.
It was late morning, and as Max played with the cats beside her, she scrolled through Instagram stories to see what her friends and other people were up to. Clubbing, dinners, traveling, running—the usual things people posted. She would glance at each for just a second before swiping to the next. But then she stopped, her finger frozen on the screen as she stared, at one point almost vacantly, before tapping on the shared post.
Engaged. She stared blankly at the caption, the single word mocking her. After what—a year? He was already engaged to someone else? How? Max barely glanced at her phone at first, still focused on scratching behind the cat’s ears. But when he noticed the way she had suddenly stilled, eyes fixed on the screen, he leaned in slightly.
“Who’s that?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. “One of your friends?”
She blinked, hesitating a second too long. “Uh—”
Max smirked, nudging her playfully. “Tell me it’s not another wedding. I’m running out of excuses not to go.”
That earned a small, breathy laugh from her, but it wasn’t quite right—too forced. She locked her phone and placed it face-down beside her. “No wedding,” she said lightly. “Don’t worry.”
Max tilted his head. “Then why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”
“I don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing.”
His smirk faded slightly as he studied her face. “It’s someone, though.”
She sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “My ex,” she admitted. “He got engaged.”
Max’s expression didn’t change immediately. He just stared at her, then let out a quiet huh.
For a second, she thought maybe he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. But then, with that signature bluntness of his, he asked,
“So why do you care?”
She turned her head sharply. “I don’t.”
Max gave her a look, eyes flicking to her phone. “You do.”
His eyes met hers again, piercing through her, almost imploring an answer. Why did she care? It had been two years. She was happy—with herself, with him, with her life in general. And yet, it felt like a hard punch to the stomach.
“I don’t know,” she sighed.
Max’s jaw tensed slightly, his fingers drumming against his knee as he studied her. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but something about this—about her reaction—itched at him in a way he didn’t like.
“You don’t know?” he echoed, his voice quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, it’s offensive,” she said, trying to explain. “That he just—engaged so fast.”
Max’s brow furrowed. “And that bothers you because…?”
She sighed. “Because it makes me wonder how long he knew I wasn’t the one.”
Max was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, in a tone sharper than before, he asked,
“And do you still care?”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“About him,” Max clarified, his expression unreadable. “Because you look like someone just punched you, and I don’t know why else you’d be this upset if you were actually over it.”
She blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Max, no—”
“Because if you’re not happy with me, you should tell me,” he continued, his voice still controlled. “If you still want him—”
“I don’t,” she cut him off, shaking her head firmly. “I swear, I don’t.”
He exhaled, looking away for a second, his fingers tightening into a fist before relaxing. “Then why?” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “Why does it feel like you’re still stuck in it?”
She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It wasn’t about her ex, not really. It was about time, about the fact that she had spent years loving someone who hadn’t loved her back the same way. It was about realizing that she had been so blind to it.
But looking at Max now—his guarded expression, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for her or pull away—she realized that he didn’t see it that way.
Her chest tightened.
She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “Max, I’m happy, the happiest I’ve ever been,” she said, her voice softer now. “With you. I swear, I don’t want him back. I just—it caught me off guard. That’s all.”
His shoulders didn’t relax immediately, his thumb ghosting over her knuckles as he studied her face, searching for something.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and for all his bluntness, there was something vulnerable about the way he said it.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure.”
Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly like he was mad at himself for even thinking otherwise. Then, finally, he tugged her closer, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers.
“I don’t like seeing you like that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I really don’t like the thought of you still caring about him.”
She smiled, brushing her nose against his. “I don’t.”
His lips barely curved, but the tension in his body faded just slightly.
“Good,” he murmured before kissing her, slow and deliberate, like he was grounding himself in her. Like he was making sure she was here. With him.
Max pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand still cradling the nape of her neck. His expression had softened—still serious, but there was a hint of something else now. Something almost teasing.
“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing absently over her skin. “If you’re so bothered by him getting engaged, you wanna just… get engaged too?”
She blinked. “What?”
Max shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, why not? Even the score.”
She scoffed, shoving his shoulder. “Oh, now you want to propose, just to be petty?”
He chuckled, but there was a glint in his eyes, something more thoughtful than his usual teasing. “Maybe. I think we’d look better in engagement photos, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes while smiling. 
Max smirked and leaned in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before murmuring against her skin, “One day, though.”
Her breath hitched slightly.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something undeniably genuine. “Not just to ‘even the score’ or whatever,” he added, his voice quieter now. “But because I want to.”
She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat at the certainty in his tone.
“One day,” she echoed, her lips curving slightly.
Max’s grin widened. “Good, and it will be a much fancier ring than that, okay?.”
She laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her into him again. “Okay.”
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✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3
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lambilegs · 1 day ago
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best friend's older sister!sevika headcanons pt. 2
contains: modern!au, nsfw content (so minors/ageless blogs dni!!), cursing, reader is mentioned to have family issues, hcs + blurbs set pre-confession and post-confession, mention of spanking, strap-on sex (reader receiving), breeding kink, dirty talk, degrading (the word "slut" is used), humiliation kink, sevika physically teasing reader at family dinner, mention of smoking, reader's body is referred to w the terms "pussy" and "clit"
pt. 1
best friend's older sister!sevika who pauses outside her door when she hears the muffled noises of your crying, followed by her sister's voice. her eyebrows immediately draw in concern, stomach turning as possibilities run through her mind. you mentioned having an exam earlier this week -- did you fail it? was someone bothering you? did you need her to do anything?
when her sister's in the shower, she knocks quietly on the door, your call of, "yeah?" pushing her to enter.
once she does, her eyes immediately scan your face, looking for signs of distress. when she finds your eyes pink and glossy, a bolt of nervousness shoots through her, taking her off guard for a second.
once she swallows down the feeling, she tilts her head at you, leaning on the frame. "all okay?" she asks, trying to keep her voice levelled, not wanting to reveal just how much worry is stirring within.
"yeah." your mouth is twisted in something resembling pain, and she eyes you carefully as you sit up in the bed. "it's just, you know, family stuff."
she nods. she understands that, alright. most people would think that being the older of the two, she'd fight with her father less than her little sister, but the truth is that out of everyone in her house, they butt heads more than anyone else. she usually shrugs it off when anyone asks, with her most popular coping mechanism being fuming in her bedroom with a cigar while heavy music blankets over all her thoughts. probably not the healthiest way to react, but it's worked for this long. besides, she doesn't have the patience to sit at a desk and do that journalling bullshit her sister always prattles on about.
"sorry." she contemplates for a few moments on what else she could say to help, rocking on the balls of her sock-clad feet. all she comes up with is, "families suck," silently berating herself for being so incompetent.
but, at least you laugh, the noise a bit breathless, so sevika takes pride in that. "yeah, that's the understatement of the century."
"do you wanna, I don't know, talk about it?" just to ease the weight of the question, she mutters, "you know, I'm pretty good at belting insults at anyone who deserves it."
"oh, yes, I'm sure of it." you nod at the wall where the shower can be heard from. "she's told me how vicious you were in middle school."
she bristles, feeling her stomach tighten in embarrassment. she was a little asshole, alright, and she can't lie, her younger sister bore the brunt of it. something she secretly regrets now -- not that she'd ever admit to it. she probably never would've revealed it you in the first place if not for her sister ratting her out.
"well, I-- that was middle school. I'm not like that now."
your eyebrow raises, lips tilting up. "you know, some people would argue that who you are as a kid shows what kind of person you are at the core of it."
she scoffs. "who, freud? considering the other stuff I've heard about that guy, I think I'll pass on believing that bullshit."
"oh, c'mon, I can tell you all the merits about his theories."
"and while that sounds riveting, I guess, I'd prefer knowing if you... you know, need anything?" she shrugs, her eyes trained on you.
you smile softly, the corners of your lips crinkling. "thank you. I don't feel like talking about it much now, but I appreciate it a lot."
she nods, rasping on the doorframe, unsure as to how to proceed now.
"huh, someone's not really used to this."
she rolls her eyes, sending you a half-hearted glare. "oh, shut up."
best friend's older sister!sevika whose attention towards you is beginning to become obvious, even for you. she's started seeking you out instead of any of your other friends when she's looking for her sister, and when she enters the room, her eyes always flicker to you immediately. it makes you feel like a spotlight is casted upon you, your entire body, your entire being, reserved for sevika.
one day, one of the girls in your group leans over to you, her tone lowered with conspiracy. "you know, I think sevika has a thing for you."
your best friend groans, smacking her arm. "god, please! that's my sister, for god's sake."
"and? she's hot?"
her face morphs into complete disgust, eyes squeezing shut. "please, that's so fucking gross."
while you laugh along with the conversation, you can't help but warily glance to your best friend, mind whirring with thoughts of whether or not she's being earnest. you and sevika aren't, well, anything really -- at least not anything officially declared or acted upon. for months, it's just been tosses and back-and-forths of teasing and flirting. but, there has been no step over the threshold that divides you two between nameless, vague chemistry and the agreement to work towards a real relationship.
but, still, there is something there, and you cradle a hope in your chest that it'll turn into more one day, an actual thing that can be named. but, it's hard to feel positive about that outcome when you're not even certain if your best friend would approve or feel comfortable.
she meets your pondering stare, and you immediately backtrack, turning away so she can't read what's on your face.
a moment later, her palm rests on your knee and she laughs, tone as casual as ever when she says, "honestly, if anyone could tame her, it's you."
your lips part in shock, but she simply squeezes down gently before carrying on with the conversation.
best friend's older sister!sevika who pretty much wants to wring her cousin's neck out when she spots her conversing with you. well, it's not the conversing that's the problem -- she's not that crazy. or at least, she pretends not to be.
it's the fact that she knows her cousin hits on every one of her and her sister's friends, and she's clearly doing that with you right now, eyes half-lidded and voice lowered to what sevika hopes sounds more like darth vader than sexy to you. god, she nearly wants to kill her sister for being stupid enough to leave you alone with her. but, judging from her sister's shit-eating grin from where she stands at the food table, sevika suspects that it was intentional.
she tries not to crush her plastic red cup in her hand and send her vodka-spiked punch spilling everywhere. when her sister had casually mentioned last night that you'd be showing up to this family barbecue, sevika, much to her own embarrassment, had felt an immediate buzz of anticipation at knowing you'd be there. it's stupid, she knows. she's a grown ass woman, not some teenager -- yet, there she was, biting back a smile as she walked up the flight of stairs back to her bedroom. and when she reached her destination, she could barely focus, her thoughts straying to how she'll get a rise out of you rather than remaining on the toy she was meant to be building for the kid she babysits, isha.
she couldn't lie to herself about it. she was goddamn excited.
if only she had known how the day would wind up. it's nearing to late afternoon, and still, she hasn't spoken to you once. as soon as you and her sister had reached, the two of you had met with your usual gaggle of girls. and sevika hadn't been in the mood to entertain their giggles and leering stares upon coming to get you from them. and so, she waited. and then, you were dragged off to talk to her sister's favourite cousins, and then, to the idiot you're currently speaking to. a few minutes into what sevika hopes is a cringe-inducing conversation, her sister had left you to go to the food table.
she knows she has no reason to be jealous of her cousin. after all, look at the dimwit, she barely has game. she's so flashy with it, no subtlety. if you weren't the object of her cousin's attention, she might've actually taken some amusement in watching from afar.
but, no, it just had to be you. she can't even blame her cousin -- after all, you do look damn good, that's for certain. if this wasn't a family event, she'd be dragging you to the nearest corner, pushing you against the wall, and teasing you until you're a squirming little mess. god, she's just throbbing at the idea of it.
but, the feeling gets washed over with ice when her dumb cousin starts stroking her knuckles against your arm. stupid kid. and why are you smiling at her? do you not realize she's flirting? do you like that she's flirting? oh, now that thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
her composure snaps when she sees you laugh, and with a firm toss of her cup in the nearest garbage bag, she calmly makes her way to you. she knows she ought to be better than this. she should be the one with sense, with rationality -- the one who keeps her shit together while you become a fumbling mess whose feelings might as well be written on your forehead. that should be you. not her.
but, it's like her mind is working on overdrive, all her instincts honed in on making sure she takes you away and has you all to herself.
when she slides next to you two, your jump in surprise, looking up at her. her eyes rove over your features, drinking you in, wondering momentarily if you even realize how crazy you drive her.
"hey, sev, are you looking for your sister? because she's--"
"no," she cuts in, her palm bracing against the small of your back. "give us a sec."
"wha-- but, I--"
sevika doesn't give her cousin a moment to protest, firmly guiding you away to the front of her house, which has been left secluded now that people are eating in the backyard.
when you stumble into her back from her sudden halt, you blow out a frustrated puff of air. "what the hell was that?"
she feels her thick, dark eyebrows furrow, her gaze casted down on you, unwavering and focused. "I should be asking you that. why were you talking to her?"
"your sister left me with her!" you protest, your voice raising a pitch she'd find cuter if it weren't for the sour taste in her mouth.
"and? that makes you incapable of leaving a conversation afterwards?"
your eye twitches. "and why should I have left the conversation?"
sevika swallows, feeling her throat bob with the movement. if she acts like some jealous girlfriend, it'll be all too clear what it is she feels. and that's a bit too exposing for her. sure, you two flirt and push-and-pull, but it's something she could easily pass as a game if ever needed be. but, jealousy, disliking you talking to someone other than her? that's way too obvious, and there's no way of covering that up.
so, she takes a different route. "you know, if you're gonna be hitting on someone at this thing, it should be--"
"you?"
she nearly splutters, blinking hard at your growing smirk before continuing. "no. it should be someone other than the fuckboy-wanna-be relative who hits on anything with a pair of nice legs and pretty eyes."
your smile only widens and sevika has the sudden urge to bend you over her lap until you're a sobbing mess.
"so, you think I have nice legs and pretty eyes?"
"are you dense? how is that what you focus on?" despite the harsh undertone of her words, she can feel her body stiffening up under your watchful gaze, desperately hoping you don't realize just how badly she wants your attention. it feels pathetic, really, to be putting up a fit like this because just you spoke to someone flirtatious other than her. shit, she needs to save some face.
"yeah, because I think it's weird how you're dictating who I can speak to as though you're my girlfriend or something!"
"that's not how I'm acting--"
"yes, it is!" you scoff, stalking up to her and pointing a finger against her chest, the contact making her jerk back from the spark it leaves. "you wouldn't be this pissed if it was just about concern."
she's silent for a few seconds, her mind running through possible comebacks. the only one she can think of is a hard, "you don't know that."
you tilt your head at her, as though she's some kid in need of a scolding. it only exacerbates her frustration, causing it to flare up low in her gut. "well, if it's just about you being concerned, then let me continue talking to her. you warned me, I took it in stride, and if things go wrong, you can always rub it in my face late, okay?"
she sighs, beginning to regret having ever acted out now that this is the turn the situation is taking. you were supposed to take her words in, and do as she says. instead, you're arguing back, just like you always do. but, she knows that at this point, she'd be a hypocrite to complain about it. she knows it's why she likes you.
"you really want that?"
you cross your arms over your chest, and sevika tries not to let her eyes stray downwards. "is there a reason why I shouldn't?"
stupid mind games. sometimes, she hated being gay because of this.
she likes you, sure, but she doesn't have the patience to beat around the bush. which she's aware is hypocritical and stupid, considering that's what she's been doing this entire conversation. but, still.
so, she shrugs. "beats me."
your eyes flash with something, jaw clenching. sevika can't tell if it's a look of determination or anger.
but, what does it matter if you're spinning around to stomp back into the backyard?
she releases an exasperated breath, fishing for her cigarettes.
best friend's older sister!sevika whose voice makes you jump when you're stirring instant noodles in a frothy pot of water later that night.
"jesus, sevika!" you gasp, your other hand flying to clutch your chest. "what the fuck are you doing here?"
"it's my house, remember?" she dryly remarks, padding over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of milk. pinching the flap open, she drinks straight from it. you'd find it gross if it weren't for the way her lips wrap around the soggy cardboard material, the muscles of her neck protruding as she gulps it down.
when she bends down to put it back, you turn away, your stomach churning from how any bit of laughter is totally drained from her voice, leaving it flat and achingly unfamiliar.
you've felt guilty since the barbecue. sure, it's annoying that she makes demands of you without actually admitting her feelings. but, it's clear that she was upset in that moment. so, maybe you should've been a tad nicer.
"uh, sevika?" you meekly call out right as she's about to exit the kitchen.
she freezes in the entryway, casting you a sidelong glance over her shoulder, which is pinched from the strap of her tight tank top. god, you wanna kiss the indent it leaves.
"I..." you trail off, shifting side to side on your feet, the low bubbling of the water the only noise filling the room. you don't know what's too much or too little, so you mull over your words before tentatively saying, "you know, I'm not interested in your cousin. like, at all. I had no intention of flirting back with her, or, like, pursuing something with her."
she's silent for a few seconds, her eyes flicking away as her jaw tenses, which sends her cheeks hollowing out. you stare at her for a few seconds before focusing your attention back to stirring the noodles, needing something to occupy your thoughts other than the thick, stifling tension seizing the air.
finally, she speaks, her voice low but firm with surety. "well, I didn't want you to flirt with her... for reasons other than what I said."
your stomach tightens up in anxious, gut-wrenching excitement, forcing your mouth to remain in a clenched line. you know this isn't exactly a confession, but it's unspoken between you two -- what she means, that is. there could only be one reason other than concern that would explain how protective she was earlier. a reason that, sure, you're not certain about regarding the details or her intentions, but that nonetheless has you feeling like you could jump with the amount of energy surging through you at the mention of it. no matter how vague.
you can sense she won't say anymore, though, her body rigid with tension. so, to try to lighten the mood, your own body sagging in relief now that you two have somewhat made amends, you drawl out, "yeah, that much was clear."
she snickers, turning fully to you and propping her arm on the door frame. you expect her to give her own retort, but instead, she just... watches you. smirk slowly curling on her face, eyes crinkling in amusement, she simply stares at you.
after a few moments of feeling like the side of your head is burning from her razor-sharp gaze, you say, "what?"
the corner of her mouth quirks up further. "for someone who says it was obvious, that was a pretty big grin you had on your face just now."
you huff indignantly, ducking you head down to the noodles in order to avoid getting caught in your flustered state. "well, I'm just grinning because my noodles are almost done."
she peers at the time flashing over the stove before shaking her head and grimacing at the pot. "why are you even eating this crap at 2:00AM? we have actual food in the fridge."
"I was craving this," you defend with a squeak, shooting her what you pray is a convincing glare despite your heart racing from her earlier words. "besides, I didn't know if your family would be having the leftovers."
"don't be stupid," she chides gruffly. after a pause, she adds, "you know you're family."
this time, you can't resist the beam that overtakes your face, eyes squeezing in delight as your cheeks throb pleasantly from the joy embracing you. you've, of course, heard this sentiment from your best friend plenty of times before, but never from sevika.
"thanks," you murmur feebly, sending her a small, bash smile.
she simply nods in return, her lips pressing together as she continues observing you.
part of you basks under it. the attention of her focused grey eyes, the heavy weight of her gaze -- it all sends a thrill to you that's hot and burning, making you feel you're being revived from a lifelong slumber. how did you ever manage without the life-altering feeling which is sevika's gaze directed to you?
"so, I guess I should head up," she says, sticking a thumb behind her.
your body immediately tenses in protest. she can't leave -- not like this, not after this tender moment you two just shared. not when her presence here holds the contrast of warm assurance and ice-cold surprise that you're always craving.
a loud "no!" bursts from your lip as she's just about to turn.
when she sends you an inquisitive stare, forehead wrinkled in confusion, you feel your face heat up in embarrassment over your over-eagerness. but, it's too late to scale back, so you force yourself to proceed with, "I just-- why don't we hang out a bit? maybe watch gilmore girls. and, I don't know, share the noodles and, well, left overs."
her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, and it almost makes you want to cackle. how could she even be surprised you want to spend time with her? are you just that good at hiding your want for her, or is she that romantically dense?
"um, yeah, okay," she says, a hand curving up along the back of her neck. "but, don't think I'll eat that crap you're making."
your shoulders ease at the joke, laughing as you wag your wooden spoon at her. "it's good, okay? I don't know why you'd deprive yourself of it."
"if I didn't deprive myself, I wouldn't have these." she flexes her bicep, and you try not to let your gaze roam over the toned muscle bulging out. no need to satisfy her that much. "and wouldn't that be a pity for you?"
you bristle, but still find yourself unable to quell the laughter that bubbles up your throat. "fuck off. my life isn't so sad that your muscles are my sanctuary."
"fair point -- maybe 'religion' is a better term."
ugh, her grin is infuriatingly coy as she heads back to the fridge, pulling out a tupperware, her veins bulging out as she grips it.
you want to fuck her so bad. and then, yell at her. and then, fuck her again.
"just, shut up and heat up the leftovers," you grumble, turning your back to her as her laugh, hearty and scratchy in all the right ways, flows from her lips.
honestly, the lack of eye contact is for both of your guys' benefit. god knows how you'll react if you see that cute gap again.
best friend's older sister!sevika who, after you two start dating, places her long fingers on your thigh when you join her family for dinner. she knows it's a bit evil of her, but she can't help it. your body is just so reactive -- a fact that she was delighted to learn upon your first time sleeping together. it just makes it so much fun to toy with you like this.
your leg immediately flinches when her fingernails skim along your skin, and she'd probably smile if she wasn't so well-trained in public play to know exactly how to keep a straight face.
but, you? she knows you're struggling. she can feel it in the way you shift in your seat, shoulders rolling as her warm palm flattens against your skin, her fingers sinking into the plush of your thigh. or how your body suddenly lurches forward when she suddenly pinches her nails into the skin, causing everyone at the table to dart concerned glances your way.
you sheepishly laugh it off, shaking your head and saying, "sorry, I, um-- I just got a weird shiver."
sevika honestly feels impressed that you're able to keep your cool this well, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. she knows it probably goes against the whole supportive girlfriend thing, but seeing you manage to remain calm only makes her want to test you even more.
and so, she inches her fingers up so that they smooth along the tender skin of your inner thigh. you immediately stiffen up, your back straightening to an almost comedic right angle. sevika's mouth twists, trying to hold in a chuckle at how you writhe when her blunt nails begin to trace shapes into the hot patch of skin. god, she wants to dip her fingers in further, feel the tight heat of your pussy wrap around her digit as she pumps it in and out of you.
she clears her own throat to cut off her breaths from getting too shallow. god, she needs a cold shower or some shit. plus, the entire point was to get you hot and bothered, not her.
trying to gather her bearings, she presses her fingers into the sensitive area, slightly digging in the curves of her nails, trying to replicate she sharp sting you feel when she sinks her teeth into that spot before eating you out.
it seems se's successful, based on the way your legs shift again, pressing together and trapping her hand there. and your cute face is noticeably distracted, expression glazed over, lips hanging open.
when your fingers curl around her wrist, keeping her hand there, she smirks behind the rim of her glass, taking a careful sip before wrenching her hand free from your grip, continuing with her meal.
through the animated conversation her sister and old man are having, she can hear you grunt in frustration.
but, she doesn't even turn to you. after all, what would be the fun if she just gave you what you wanted?
best friend's older sister!sevika who shakes you from your deep sleep when you're curled up on the mattress in her living room, your best friend fast asleep on the couch. before you can mumble incoherently, your eyes barely making out her broad frame through the sleep-tinged blur, she presses a finger to your mouth, quietly shushing you.
you nod, your heavy eyes blinking rapidly to register what's going on. but, you can barely get a whisper in before sevika scoops you up, her strong arms easily carrying you up the stairs to her bedroom. you have to bite back a gasp at the sudden manhandling, though a spike of arousal zips through you from how easily she takes you to her bedroom, dropping you unceremoniously onto her navy blankets.
you frown at her, eyes sharpened into a glare. "sevika, wha--"
she plants her lips on you, crawling on top of you and pinning your body to the bed with hers. she's sloppy and ungraceful with it, shoving her tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours as a hand slides up to loosely grip your throat.
"you didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you?" she mumbles against your lips, her hand drifting down your body to start fiddling with the waistband of your pajama shorts.
"well, you already did once, so I wouldn't be surprised if it happened again," you murmur against her prodding mouth, trying to keep your voice dignified in light of all the pants and whines beginning to crawl up your throat.
"awe, c'mon, baby," she snickers, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek while the rest of you practically combusts from the low, scolding tone she takes when calling you that. "even I have my limits."
and, oh, how fucking good it feels for sevika's limits to be broken, you think as she pounds into you with her dark purple strap-on, her hand over your mouth as she pumps her hips steadily, hissing whenever her bed frame bumps too loudly against the wall.
you wrap your legs around her, nails raking up her back as the toy plunges into you over and over again, stretching your walls taut. it feels good, so good, the dull ache of her nearly-too-big dildo making your entire pussy throb in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.
"listen to that," she whispers against your ear, the hot moist of her breath making you break out into shivers. "your pussy is soaking my new sheets. such a mess you're making."
god, you just leak even more from those words, the mix of your juices and the lube creating deliciously loud squelching noises in her room, only growing more pointed and firm when she begins to drill particularly hard, intentional thrusts into you. the movements have the bulb her of dick pushing against your g-spot with every rock of her body, and it sends a warm tingle through you, wrapping your nerves in pleasure and sparking them to life.
you whine against her hand, eyes rolling back when her cold, mechanical finger begins to flick along your clit. the cool, steel-hard texture of it against your swollen little nub has your body arching up, each brush and flick feeling so heightened through all the other sensations running through you.
"yeah," she chuckles darkly, grazing her teeth along your earlobe. "you like that, don't you? getting this pussy slutted out, having me fucking up your guts and making room for my babies?"
your hips jolt up at those words, a loud whine erupting from your mouth before you can stop it. sevika hisses at it, pressing her mouth to yours, her thighs smacking against yours as she continues drilling you into her mattress.
"be quiet," she rasps, her breaths shattering into uneven little pants. "you want everyone in this house to know what a slut you are? you want everyone to know you couldn't last a night in here without getting dicked down by your best friend's sister?"
you can barely respond, your entire body set aflame with the pleasure of her on top of you, surrounding you with nothing but warm skin, hard muscle and filthy, nasty little noises.
"ah," you moan quietly against her mouth, fingers tracing the indents your nails have left in her back. "feels s'good, I just-- I can't--"
"I know, baby, I know," she grunts, fingers wrapping around your jaw and shaking your face like you're her personal doll. "no need to worry your pretty head with talking, yeah? just be good and let me cream this pussy."
and so, you do. over and over and over again.
best friend's older sister!sevika who tries not to smirk too hard when her sister asks over breakfast why you're wearing a turtleneck in the middle of july.
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scarletwinterxx · 2 days ago
Text
maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine
hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)
also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅
for my other svt fics, check them here
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.
Not once.
Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.
And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.
Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.
“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.
The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”
“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”
“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”
Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.
But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.
It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.
“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”
You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.
Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.
“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.
“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.
For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.
“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.
It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.
It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.
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Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.
“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.
But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”
Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”
Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.
“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.
Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”
“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.
Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.
Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”
You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”
“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”
You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.
“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.
You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.
It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.
“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.
You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.
The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.
Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.
You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.
She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.
You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.
The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.
“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”
You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”
When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”
The look on your face is answer enough.
Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”
“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”
“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”
You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.
“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”
You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.
“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”
True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.
“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”
You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.
“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”
“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.
But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.
The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.
You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.
“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.
“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.
“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”
“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.
Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”
Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.
“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.
You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.
“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.
As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.
You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.
From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.
He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.
Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”
Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.
“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.
Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.
For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.
“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”
Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.
But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.
The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.
Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.
“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.
Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.
The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.
Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.
And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.
You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.
The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.
Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.
The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.
Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.
His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.
His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.
When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.
And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.
You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.
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The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.
Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.
But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.
You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.
What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.
Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.
“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”
Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.
“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”
You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”
“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”
You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”
“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”
Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.
You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”
You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”
“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”
You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”
Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”
Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?
"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.
Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”
You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?
"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"
Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."
You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.
But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.
The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.
After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.
Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.
His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.
But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.
Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.
You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.
And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.
Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.
“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him
"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds
"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"
"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.
You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car
“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”
His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.
“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”
The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.
But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.
You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.
“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.
You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.
As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.
But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.
The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.
It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.
You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.
And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.
But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.
It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.
As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.
But he saw you. Of course, he did.
“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.
He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.
"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.
"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?
"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."
You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.
“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.
"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”
You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”
There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?
Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”
Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?
But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.
And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.
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The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.
As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.
You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.
Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.
You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.
"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.
Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.
You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.
“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.
“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.
But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.
"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."
Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.
The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.
You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.
For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.
This time, he seemed almost... human.
"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."
You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?
“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”
Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.
“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”
There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.
“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.
You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?
You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?
"But then the kiss..."
"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"
"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble
"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile
Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.
“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.
“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.
But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”
Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.
“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.
Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.
“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.
“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.
You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.
You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.
As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.
What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?
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You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.
For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.
But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.
"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.
You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?
You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.
“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.
You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”
You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.
“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”
“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”
Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”
You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”
Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."
You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”
The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.
“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.
Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”
You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.
You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.
You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.
Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.
"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.
“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”
Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.
He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.
You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.
“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”
Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”
“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”
Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.
You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.
Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”
You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.
Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”
Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”
“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”
You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”
“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”
You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”
He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”
“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”
That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”
He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.
And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.
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It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.
You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.
“I have no idea,” you whispered back
You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”
“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.
“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.
Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”
Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”
You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”
“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.
Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”
“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.
Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.
Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”
Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.
The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.
When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.
You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”
Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.
You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.
Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”
He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.
It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.
By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.
“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.
You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”
“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.
You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”
“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”
You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.
“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.
Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.
And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.
What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.
This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?
One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.
“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”
You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”
“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”
You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”
He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”
Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”
“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.
You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”
“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?
A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”
“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”
“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.
You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.
When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.
“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”
Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”
“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.
Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”
You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.
Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.
Wonwoo.
Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”
You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”
“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”
There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.
Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”
“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”
You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”
He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”
At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.
Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.
“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”
There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.
“Go on, I’m listening.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.
When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.
“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.
“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”
The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.
You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.
“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”
Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.
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It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.
The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.
You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.
But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.
Your heart stopped.
Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.
Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.
For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.
You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”
Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.
You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”
Silence.
The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.
Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.
“What do you want us to be?”
Your breath hitched.
You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.
“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”
Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”
Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”
Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.
Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”
“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.
Your entire body tensed.
Oh my god.
He knew.
Of course, he knew.
Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.
You wanted to disappear.
“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”
“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.
“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”
Another silence.
Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.
And then—
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.
And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.
So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.
“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”
Your brain short-circuited.
You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.
Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
You didn’t know what to say.
So, naturally, you panicked.
“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.
Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”
“I am not running away!”
“You’re literally running away.”
“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.
Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.
This was too much.
Jeon Wonwoo was too much.
When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.
Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?
You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.
And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.
“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”
Your face heated.
“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.
You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.
And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.
He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.
“Are you still confused?”
Your breath caught.
You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.
His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.
“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”
You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.
Instead, he leaned in.
Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.
Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,
“Then tell me…”
His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.
“What do you want me to be?”
Your brain short-circuited.
Your body went completely still.
The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.
Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.
And you…
You had no idea how to answer.
Because for the first time ever—
You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.
Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.
What did you want him to be?
For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.
You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.
Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.
You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,
“I—”
And then you panicked.
Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.
It didn’t.
Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.
“You’re cute when you panic.”
You almost choked.
“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.
His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”
“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”
Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”
You gave him a look.
He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”
Your brows furrowed. “What?”
“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.
You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.
And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.
Your breath hitched.
“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”
You swallowed thickly.
Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.
“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”
The confession made something in your chest tighten.
Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.
He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”
You blinked. “You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “No.”
It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.
There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.
“I missed you.”
Your chest ached.
All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.
Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.
“…I missed you too.”
Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.
“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”
You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”
You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.
His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.
“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.
"Do I have to answer now?"
Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.
“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.
You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”
“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”
That didn’t help at all.
You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.
After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”
“Nope.”
“You’re not gonna pressure me?”
“No.”
“You’re just gonna… wait?”
Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”
Your breath hitched.
Oh.
You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.
“…Okay,” you mumbled.
“Okay?”
You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”
His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”
And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.
Your brain completely shut down.
“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.
Wonwoo just smirked.
“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”
And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.
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moonreader1010 · 3 days ago
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𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨?
𝓟𝓘𝓒𝓚 𝓐 𝓟𝓘𝓛𝓔 - ・❥・: ̗̀➛
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︵‿︵‿୨♡ Reading by - MAE ♡୧‿︵‿︵
(PLEASE DO CHECK OUT THE NOTE AT THE END OF THE READING)
PILE 1
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First of all, The High Priestess? You are a damn enigma. You carry an air of mystery that drives them crazy. You’re not the type to lay all your cards (pun intended) on the table at once—you keep them guessing. You know when to speak, when to stay silent, and when to let your eyes do all the talking. Your intuition is on point, and your lover can feel that you know things—things they haven’t even said out loud.
Now, here’s where things get spicy-spicy. The Five of Wands isn’t about peace and quiet—it’s about tension, competition, and passion. This card tells me that you don’t just leave them speechless with your mystery—you also challenge them, push their buttons, and keep things fun in a way that makes their heart race.
How do you leave them speechless?You keep them on their toes. You’re not afraid to tease, to play a little hard to get, to make them work for your attention. And let’s be real—they love the chase.You spark their fire. This isn’t just about soft, slow romance (though you can do that too). This is about passionate, competitive, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other energy. Maybe it’s a battle of wits, playful teasing, or tension that builds up until it explodes.You make them crave more. They’re left speechless because they never know what’s coming next. One minute, you're pulling away with a sly smile, and the next, you’re completely stealing their breath away. Unpredictability is your secret weapon.
Ohhh, and just when they think they’ve figured you out? You completely flip the script. The Ace of Cups is about overflowing emotion, deep intimacy, and love that feels like drowning in pleasure. If The High Priestess keeps them intrigued and the Five of Wands keeps them chasing, the Ace of Cups? That’s where they fall—all the way in.
PILE 2
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First off, The Chariot is all about strength, confidence, and taking the wheel. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and that is immediately clear to anyone who crosses your path. You leave them speechless because you’re unapologetically in control of your life, your desires, and how you carry yourself. There’s a magnetic energy that pulls them in—there’s no guessing where you’re going or what you want because you radiate self-assuredness.
Okay, the Ten of Swords? This is about transformation through pain—but in a spicy way. You leave them speechless because you’ve been through your struggles and come out the other side stronger and hotter than ever. The Ten of Swords speaks to the end of a difficult cycle, the kind that often feels like being knocked down—but what happens next is what gets them every time. You rise from the ashes, a version of yourself that’s unstoppable.
How do you leave them speechless? You don’t let anything hold you back. You’ve been through the worst, and now you’re showing them a version of yourself that’s more confident, more powerful, and more ready to take what you want. You know how to break free and leave the past behind—which, let’s be real, is sexy. There’s something about someone who isn’t afraid to shed old skins, and you do it with such grace and power that they can’t help but be in awe. You turn pain into passion. That whole ‘rising from the ashes’ vibe? It’s not just emotional; it’s also physical. You channel that fire into your passion and energy, whether it’s in a seductive glance or a slow, powerful move that has them speechless in the best way.
And now, the Queen of Wands. Oh my God, this card is everything! The Queen of Wands is the embodiment of fiery, magnetic, unapologetic confidence. She is the woman who walks into a room and every head turns. She knows her worth, and she flames with passion, creativity, and irresistible allure. How do you leave them speechless? By being a goddess of charm, seduction, and strength—a true force that can't be ignored.
PILE 3
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The Fool? You are a total wild card. You leave them speechless because you’ve got that energy of someone who is not afraid to take risks, to go after what they want with absolutely zero hesitation. There’s something thrilling about the way you live your life like it’s an adventure, and you drag them along for the ride, whether they’re ready or not. They never know what to expect with you—and that’s hot.
Next, the Knight of Cups. Oh, baby, this is where we get into full-blown romantic and emotional seduction. You leave them speechless by showing up with that perfect balance of passion and emotion. The Knight of Cups is all about expressing love in the most dramatic, sweeping, captivating way. And when it comes to love, you’re like a knight on a white horse—ready to sweep them off their feet and make them feel adored, cherished, and completely special.
How do you leave them speechless? You woo them with words. You know exactly what to say to make them feel like they’re the only person in the world. Your emotional depth and sincerity are intoxicating—they can’t help but be swept up in your charm. You know how to make grand romantic gestures. Whether it’s an unexpected date, a slow dance under the stars, or even just an unexpected compliment that’s so heartfelt, they’re left speechless by how much you care. You open up emotionally. They may not be expecting this kind of deep emotional connection, but when you share your feelings, it’s with such sincerity and passion that it leaves them stunned by your vulnerability and affection. You’re not afraid to show them the real you, and that’s a level of intimacy that takes their breath away.
Alright, here’s where the magic happens: Three of Pentacles. You leave them speechless because you’re not just a lover, you’re a partner—and you know how to build something beautiful together. This isn’t just about physical attraction; this is about you both coming together to create something amazing. Whether it’s your creativity, your shared goals, or the way you work together in sync, the chemistry between you two goes beyond the surface.
Ⓝⓞⓣⓔⓢ
Check out our latest ------------(18+) services
This is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest.
All credit of the pictures goes to thier rightfull owners.
Sending lots of love to whoever is reading this, take care.
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koenigami · 3 days ago
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tags : fluff, reverse comfort (kind of?), nightmares wc : 1k synopsis : his solace as much as his biggest fear
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“No… don’t!-”
Caleb never knew that he could get so dependent on you. He'd probably go as far as to say that he's gotten addicted to your presence, in every sense of way. 
Specifically, on nights when sleep seems like a dystopian idea, a dream so far away and unreachable. Either because he's simply unable to fall asleep in the first place, or because haunting images won’t let him rest. 
Waking up to your body snuggled against his, hearing your soft breaths and seeing your serene expression, all of it is enough to immediately alleviate the lingering tightness in his chest, unlike when he has to go through all of that when he’s by himself. Tonight however, not even that seems to help at calming the persisting storm inside his mind. 
Long lost memories keep flashing behind his eyes, making his eyelids twitch almost uncontrollably and his chest rise and fall unsteadily. It doesn’t take long until you’re woken up by the broken pleas falling from his lips, and his trashing body which is physically trying to fend off whatever is robbing him of a peaceful night’s sleep. 
“Caleb?” You reach out to cautiously place a hand on his chest. Besides the sweaty shirt, he almost seems to be overheating considering how hot to the touch his body feels. Your breath staggers when you realise how much the nightmare is affecting him. It’s almost as if he’s frozen, limbs completely rigid and tense except for his head that turns from side to side. 
“Come on, baby. You’re alright, it’s just a dream.” But your words seem to hit an impenetrable wall, as he keeps on getting louder until he’s nearly screaming. With teary eyes, you hastily grab his right shoulder and try to shake him awake, unaware of the fact that doing so would do anything but calm him down. 
It all happens in a matter of seconds as you watch him shoot up, the sight akin to someone diving out of the deepest parts of the sea and desperate to finally get a breath of air. Something cold and hard envelops your wrist so tightly that it makes you wince in discomfort, and you’re pulled forward against his heated torso. 
With unfocused eyes, Caleb varily scrutinizes you before his gaze drifts off to the space around you. Ever so slowly, the fog in his head seems to dissipate as you watch his eyes visibly regain clarity while his grip on you lessens finally. As if fearing that he had burned you, he lets go of your wrist with a suddenness that makes you instantly recoil.
The sound of his laboured breaths fills the room, and when he eventually looks back at you, you think you’d preferred if he had just ripped your heart right out of your chest instead. There’s a slight shake in his left hand as he reaches out to you with a certain hesitation that makes him look as if he were afraid of scaring you away. 
On one hand, his fear might be reasonable, considering that it has always been him taking care of you. Always him comforting you, always him covering your ears and shielding you from the scary outside world, always him holding your hand and never letting go. Burdening you with further ballast would go against everything that he has been working up to until now. 
“I-I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” 
On the other hand, you remember that as a child, you often wondered whether there was actually anything Caleb was truly scared of. He’d been your personal little hero at that time, and ever one of the most, if not the most reliable and helpful person in your life. 
Proclaiming himself as selfish and overly defensive when it comes to you, he has never been the one to deny his flaws, especially ever since he’s stepped back into your life. In this moment, as your fingertips gently graze his until your palm is nestled perfectly in his, you wonder whether you’ve been the selfish one all this time. Now, as he desperately tries to hide his pain behind a strained smile, you wonder whether you’ve relied so much on him that you never made him think of the possibility that he could do the same. Rely on you.
Caleb’s gaze falls to the reddened skin along your wrist, and combined with the tears lingering in your eyes and threatening to stain your beautiful cheeks, he immediately jumps to conclusions. “I did this, didn’t I? Are you alright? Does it hurt a lot? Shit, I’m so-”
“I’m fine, but…” The streetlight from outside enters the room through the flowy curtains, and reflects in your eyes. Those same eyes carry so much sorrow, pain as well as anger. Yet, he’s unsure towards whom the latter is directed. “But you’re not, Caleb.”
He smiles. And the fact that you can tell that it is a genuine expression angers you even further because you know that he’s completely disregarding his own feelings right now. It’s just another attempt at hiding the anguish that he’s being put through, and an attempt at hiding the things plaguing his mind, even though you’ve reassured him countless times that there is nothing that could scare you away from him. “That’s okay.” As long as you are. 
In the end, there’s nothing you can do except climb into his lap and hold him close to you. You can’t do more than lean in and press a gentle peck against his forehead as a silent prayer for the turmoil inside his mind to stop hurting him. Because despite his futile reassurances, you can feel how fast his heart is still beating against his chest. You can still feel the slightest tremor in his hands as they cling to your waist.
“One day, we will be fine. Eventually.” He whispers and presses his nose against the column of your neck, relishing in the way you smell, and how you perfectly fit in his arms. Because as it turns out, there certainly is at least one thing that Caleb is scared of, and it is for his nightmares to come true. 
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justasimpleton-26 · 6 hours ago
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Hmmm, I'd like to try my hand at this!
Idiot, Idiot, Idiot. Jason thinks to himself. At least he thinks he does, because Dick pinches his arm and shakes his head.
Jason makes sure not to stare too long at Dick because then the toxin he accidentally inhaled will make Dick look like a melted-face puddle and Jason is pretty sure it's bad enough he has to deal with the giggling maniacs of the Joker.
The Joker, who stands in that corner, and watches Jason like a hawk.
Jason wants to leave. Twice or three times he's tried to escape the Batcave, but either Damian finds him (the scared 14 year old who tries to play it off), Tim does (the 19 year old who's jittery from nerves or coffee), or Dick does, the ever patient 25 year old who seems to be the only one that can touch Jason, without Jason screaming in hysterics.
"How much longer?" Damian asks. Or maybe it's Bruce.
Jason can't focus on one of them too long without their faces turning into twisted, Joker versions of themselves.
"Wow, little bird. They seem to really care for you...now." Joker says, as he taps the back of Jason’s head with...not a crowbar, it's too soft. Maybe his cane. "But I didn't see them when I invited you over to play."
"Stop...just...stop." Jason says, his voice hoarse. Was he screaming? When was he screaming?
Jason sits on the couch, curled up into himself. He doesn't care if he looks ridiculous, whatever it takes to not have the Joker focused on him, Jason will do it.
"Now, boy wonder...wanna hear a joke?" Joker asks, his voice right next to Jason’s ear.
"Lay it on me." Jason replies, weary. He doesn't understand how though the Lazarus pit healed him...he can still feel the pain on his body.
"Lay what on you?" Bruce asks, his voice even.
"That was rude, Bats. Birdie, tell the Bat to be nice or you'll be the one filled with strife." Joker said, tapping Jason’s shoulder. This time, it was the crowbar.
Jason, with tired reluctance, relays the demand.
Jason doesn't bother to look up if Bruce listened or not. His gaze sticks to the floor, that was supposed to be cement but for some reason is nothing but wriggling maggots.
"Like a coffin." Jason whispered to himself, and that makes Joker laugh.
"Hey birdie, you ever seen the living Deadman? No? You should, you own a mirror!" Joker laughed maniacally, Jason letting out a weak chuckle.
Okay, that one was pretty funny.
"What was the joke?" Dick asked, and Jason spares a glance at his older brother. Dick's face remains the same for a bit and Jason takes in a shaky breath.
"Tell them the joke, Jason. I'm sure they're DYING for a laugh as well." Joker orders, and Jason forces his gaze up, looking over at all of them with a forced calm.
"Joker asked me if I've seen the living Deadman. When I said no, he replied with I should have, I own a mirror." And Jason laughs, laughs so hard, it hurts his stomach and he's near tears.
"That's dark, Jay." Tim says, and Jason wipes his eyes.
"Oh, Timbers. I gotta laugh at his jokes. Or else he'll throw a tantrum and that crowbar will be wedged between my skull." Jason explains, Joker slapping Jay on the back.
"Just trying to turn you into the headless horseman." And again Joker laughs, and again Jason laughs, holding on to his stomach as a pain makes him gasp for air.
Someone steadies him, Jason trying to pull free. But goddamn, if his stomach doesn't hurt like a bitch.
"Get the bucket! Get it now!" Someone shouts, shoving a metal gray bucket under Jason’s face.
Jason vomits his lungs out, the acrid taste in the back of his throat forcing him to spew out even more. He's broken out in a sweat, staring at the Joker who's laughing at Jason’s pain, all the time, EVERY TIME.
When he's done, he feels lightheaded and so tired, leaning back on the couch. A cold rag covered his forehead and eyes, his breathing shallow and fast.
There's a prick on his arm and he passes out.
There's a pounding in the back of his eyes when he wakes up. Jason is back in his room and his body feels so heavy.
"Holy...crap." Jason says, trying to sit up.
"Take it easy, son." Bruce says, Jason moving his head to stare at him.
Bruce looks tired...haggard. And it looks like he's been sitting on that chair all night.
"Dad?" Jason croaks out, his mouth dry and his tongue heavy.
"I'm here Jason. I'm here." Bruce replied, patting Jason on the knee.
As Bruce comes into focus, others move. Dick stands next to Bruce, followed by Tim then Damian.
Damian actually looks like he's been crying. This alarms Jason. Very rare has he seen the teen cry.
"Who died?" Jason asks, and Damian shakes his head, Dick putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
"No one. No one at all." Dick assures.
Jason’s not sure why they're being affectionate or what happened yesterday.
But he decides to accept it.
Nothing wrong with a bit of affection from them.
I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?
They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.
Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?
Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.
He is too scared.
He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?
"Knock, knock!"
Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.
He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?
"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.
Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.
"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"
"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."
"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"
Jason laughs.
His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.
Good job, Jason.
"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.
"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.
"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."
He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–
"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.
"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.
"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"
Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.
But for some reason, he doesn't.
"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.
"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."
He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.
"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.
"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.
He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.
Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.
You will die his son.
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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 days ago
Text
—nepenthe
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content: angst and comfort, reader is ambessa's servant, mentions of prostitution, vi's pitfighter era, make-out session, alcohol, two heartbroken people who honestly just need a hug, mentions of degrading names.
"nepenthe"
– an ancient greek word, nepenthe, is defined as a medicine for sorrow. it is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.
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You sit alone, forehead resting on the surface of the bar. It’s stuffy, crowded with an outpour of Zaunites. The fight in the underground ring must’ve been over now. You sigh, tapping the shot glass against the bar. You try not to let tears gather in the corners of your eyes, free to fall down your cheeks, but it’s nearly hopeless. Being a servant to a high rank is one of the worst paths you could’ve taken. 
You remember the days you worked in Babette’s brothel. At least then, you didn’t fall in love with your clients. Why did you love Ambessa so much? Less like a wave and more of a tsunami, she enjoys crashing into you. You love it, too. Ambessa is a lioness, brave and fierce. You’re not a tiger or a panther, not even a common housecat. You’re a stray. 
Voices fill your ears from every angle, but the one that isn’t there, the one that you wish to be real repeats endlessly. 
“You’re nothing but a whore. Do you really think I’d ever make you my wife?” Her laugh that followed her harsh words rings in your head like a church bell. 
“You’re just another filthy Zaunite girl, and that’s what you’ll die as.” 
Your whole body trembled when she said that, as she dismissed you. It’s back to the brothels for you, and you wonder if there is anything more humiliating than going from living in a mansion with one of Noxia’s most respected commanders to back in your shabby house in the under city. You can’t dwell on the thought, though you want to. Someone next to you taps your shoulder, nearly causing you to snap. The voice is oddly familiar. 
“You look a little pathetic, you know. You didn’t even take the shot.” They say, words harsh but clearly a light tease. The voice is clearly a woman’s, though slurred in a drunken haze. You’ve heard it before, but from where? 
You force yourself to sit up and face your left, where the voice is coming from. There is an infamous face. Light freckles dotted over pale skin, and what used to be a reddish-pink hair is now stained a midnight black. The scar on her upper-lip shifts with her smile, though the expression doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 
“You can have it.” You mumble, eyes leaving hers. You should feel embarrassed to be moping around in a bar, but you don’t care. 
Vi sighs, feeling a twinge of sympathy for you. Regardless, she grabs the shot, tilting her head back as the vodka rushes down her throat. It’ll come back up later. 
“What’s your deal?” She asks, scooching closer to you. 
“Relationship issues.” You simply say, though the strain in your voice is clear. Relationship, if you could ever call it that. Serving to Ambessa’s every need and bending to her will was a dynamic, you were never her lover. You could never be a wife is a thought that lingers in your head and plagues you like an incoming pandemic, a disease that could wipe out towns. Vi seems to know, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans in, patting your back in a soothing manner. 
“My place?” She offers into your ear, words like a poison stronger than alcohol or shimmer. You find yourself walking down the street, leaning on each other as she leads you to her small apartment. 
Inside, kisses are sloppy and taste more like a bottle of cheap vodka than anything pleasant. You desperately cup her face, fingers tangled in her hair. Her hands grab your waist and send a much-needed warmth up your spine. 
Perhaps if you stop to tell each other who you got your hearts trampled by, then there would be some comforting relations. Vi would tell you that you are more than a whore, and Ambessa would be lucky to have you. That you deserve more than to have to quiet down and be an obedient piece of property. You would tell Vi that she is sweet, deserves better than Caitlyn. But words aren’t exchanged, and that is what makes the kisses so desperate. 
You wish to speak it all with your tongue sucking on hers, and she is needy to vent out her frustrations by pushing you down onto her twin-sized bed, quickly following you down. Vi is warm, almost too warm that it burns you to love on her. 
You don’t even realize that you began crying until you’re wondering why Vi pulled away. She looks more concerned than turned on, wiping at your cheeks and leaning in to kiss them. 
“I’ll punch whoever did this to you.” She states, burying her face into your neck and softly kissing your beating pulse. You’re alive, and it’s a comfort to her. Vi’s breath on the surface of your skin warms you throughout, and you can feel her body. She is real. 
You’ll wonder why you’re in this woman’s bed in the morning, perhaps deciding to sneak out before she can even wake up. However, for now, you hold each other, letting your scents mix and your fingers intertwine until the sun rises over the horizon. 
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esotericbluntbaby · 2 days ago
Text
intoxicated conversations
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hamzahthefantastic x reader
description: after finding out you've decided to move back to the states following your break up, hamzah indulges even more in the satisfaction of weed. surrounding the comfort within all the pain it gives him, he decides he needs more than what the drug can give him.
mentions: angst, weed/drug use, angsty love confession, slight argument, dialogue-heavy, hurt/comfort, happy ending, she/her pronouns, kinda toxic and possessive hamzah, kinda toxic reader, sfw!
supermodel by sza
--
the break-up was as painful as jumproping on broken shards of glass.
the relationship was short-lived, as if it died within the first moments it was bloomed. words were left unsaid as if your relationship was a letter that was never sent; a letter that got lost in the mail and lost in translation between the two of you. the exchange of "i love you" simply never happened, which kept you both dwelling on the possibility of a future. calendars were marked with red ink on dates you were supposed to go out, half of them being crossed off and rescheduled throughout the span of the year you dated.
you wanted to say the three words that could have fixed the relationship; in fact, you craved it as much as a cannibal craves the flesh of a fresh human. in a way, hamzah was your flesh and you desired to taste as much of him as you could. however, humans aren't meant to know how another human tastes, not like that; at least, that's what you thought. fear drove you apart, however, resentment accompanied the panic that rose in your heart each time you felt like telling him how you truly felt about him. arguments began to arise after every conversation; it soon became tiring to talk to each other.
eventually, the fire grew cold, the ice decided to melt, and the relationship felt more like a dead plant that the both of you decided to water at different, separate times. you ended things with him, leaving a painful gap in your heart where he once resided in. with his absence came the presence of a lonelier, melancholy emotion that you always seemed to feel. though you tried blaming it on the fact that it was always raining and cold and that you were probably deficient in vitamin d, you knew in your heart that it was because you regretted ending things with him instead of talking yourselves through it. running away from your problems, you decided to run away from the specific problem at hand; you decided to move back to the states.
--
hamzah was currently on a facetime call with martin and mandy, bewildered at the information that just came out of mandy's mouth so nonchalantly.
"she's what?" hamzah's eyes widened, picking up his phone from leaning on his pc.
mandy sighed, "i tried talking her out of it, but she's so set on going."
"well, where's she moving to?"
"back to california. she said something about 'needing vitamin d'" or some bullshit excuse," mandy began to type on her macbook.
martin decided to interrupt the tense air with his usual personality shining through, "should we go get pizza tonight, gang?"
"wait, mandy," hamzah interrupted as he ignored martin, "are you upset over her moving?"
"i'm upset at both of you, right now."
hamzah threw his hands up in defense, "what'd i do?"
"you guys decided to just break up as if it's as simple as that- as if it would get rid of all the memories and feelings and-"
"i'm gonna stop you right there- what do you mean 'you guys?' she broke up with me."
martin interrupted, once again, "well, did you fight for her?"
hamzah was genuinely puzzled, as if the concept of fighting for someone was foreign to him, "what?"
"like," martin continued, "when she brought up breaking up with you, did you even try to convince her not to?"
"well, no-"
mandy egged on, "that's what i mean by 'you guys.' you guys decided to just end things when it got hard."
"i'll be fine," hamzah lied, "we never ever said 'i love you.'"
martin shrugged, "just because you never said it, doesn't mean it wasn't there."
--
hamzah's lie caught up with him in the middle of the night in the way that grief catches up to a mourner as the light shines on their tears. though he's slightly ashamed of it, he kept a bottle of your perfume after you both went your separate ways. spraying it onto his pillow, he inhaled the familiar scent and began to feel his body relax. the mere remembrance of you also reminded him of your forthcoming absence.
still inhaling your scent of his pillow, guiltily, he took out the cart hidden in his drawers. he told himself he'd try to quit, yet, it felt like a good time to bring it out once more. smoke filled the air in front of him as he took a long drag out of the mouthpiece and allowed himself to feel everything around him: the relapsing, the smoke in the air, the presence of your perfume, and the absence of your body.
one hit turned into two, as two somehow multiplied into four, and hamzah was absolutely blasted. he didn't even realize that, somehow, his legs were picking himself off of his chair and was now leading him out of the door. eventually, he felt his hands put his car keys in the ignition and start. he didn't know where he was going; he simply let the intoxication take control of his body as his mind floated elsewhere.
--
it was 9:00 at night as you heard a knock on the wooden door. getting up from taping boxes closed, you looked through the peephole to make sure there wasn't a maniac only being separated from you by the door in front of you. you weren't sure if your eyes were fooling you, or if it was your desires deceiving you once again and taking you away in a drunken state, but you were 99% sure that it was hamzah. taking the risk, you decided to open the door, revealing his half-lidded and ruby eyes, accompanying his swaying body.
your eyebrows furrowed, "hamzah?"
"hey," he sounded slightly drunken off of substance, "can i sleep here for the night? i don't want to be alone."
"what-"
"just on the couch. please."
you noticed the state he was in and didn't want to leave him to drive home, "okay."
helping him into your house, you helped him lay on the couch. you helped put a blanket, which you got from underneath your couch, over his shivering body. though you were about to leave to go to your room after mumbling a goodnight, he grabbed your hand.
"stay."
you blinked, not knowing if you heard him right, "what?"
he pulled you slightly closer, "just stay. talk to me a little. how've you been?"
"maybe we should wait until you're sober, hamzah, i don't-"
"no, it has to be now. if i'm sober, i won't be able to talk."
"what do you mean?" you questioned, getting comfortable on the couch
he lightly scoffed, "don't worry about it- just stay here and talk to me. answer my question."
"what question?"
he began to play with your fingers, "how've you been?"
"i've been okay."
his eyes opened as wide as they could, "are you lying to me?"
"uh, no- no, i'm not-"
"y'know," he rested his head on your thigh and gazed up at you, "you've always been a horrible liar."
"hamzah."
"are you mad at me? i'm sorry."
a pang of guilt entered your chest, "no, hamzah- i'm not mad at you. i just think you should go to bed. it's late and you're not in the right state to be talking to me or, honestly, even being here."
"you opened the door for me."
"what?"
"you opened the door. you looked through the peephole and saw me and you still opened the door. why?"
"because i didn't want you to be driving in the middle of the night in this state."
he crossed his arms, "well, i drove here. i can drive back if you want," he says as he began to get up.
"no," you laid him back down on the couch, "it's okay. you can stay. we can talk tomorrow."
"but-"
you got up from the couch, "goodnight, hamzah."
--
the next morning came shortly after you fell asleep. expecting a familiar face on your couch, you were surprised when your apartment seemed empty. looking throughout each room, decorated with boxes, you couldn't find hamzah anywhere. you, then, felt a vibration in your pocket.
hamzah
10:07 am | hey, thanks for letting me stay with you. i'm sorry that i crashed your apartment. i didn't mean to and it won't happen again.
you
10:08 am | oh its np. ur good.
--
except, it did happen again a couple of days later. once again, as you were packing boxes with miscellaneous decorations found in the space around you, you heard another knock on your door. mimicking your actions from the first time he knocked, you looked through the peephole and opened the door once you realized how red and glossy his eyes were.
"i'm horrible."
confused, you simply allowed him to come in and helped him sit down on your couch again, "what's the matter?"
"i said i wouldn't do this again and here i am. i'm sorry."
in all honestly, you pitied how hurt he seemed; you didn't know why and you didn't want to take advantage of his drunkenness. yet, you were also somewhat selfish in the situation. you wanted to know why he kept on showing up at your apartment high. is he manipulating you? is he aware that you would always open your door to him if he was intoxicated? you needed to know.
"hamzah," you held his hand and softly asked, "why do you keep coming here like this?"
"i dunno. you'll have to ask me another time."
you sighed, "is this just gonna keep happening?"
"i dunno. your apartment looks empty."
in the midst of him showing up, you almost forgot that you only had a couple of days to pack everything up, "oh, yeah. just- y'know, getting rid of some stuff."
"martin told me you were moving."
"he did?"
"him and mandy."
you lightly rubbed the veins on his hand with your thumb, "hamzah, i won't be here after three more days. i need you to remember that when you're sober. i'll even text you it because this place will be empty."
you waited patiently for a response, realizing after five minutes that he fell asleep with his head on top of you. trying your best to balance out your leg with a pillow, you managed to get up without waking him. taking a blanket and putting it onto him, once again, you left the room.
--
the next morning, like always, he was gone. this time, you decided to text him.
you
11:42 am | hi, hamzah. i just wanted to let ur know that i'm not mad at u for coming over when ur high, but i won't be in this apartment after thursday. if u wanna get high and come over again, u got like 2 more days lol
11:43 am | im only half joking
11:43 am | i hope everythings okay w u
11:43 am | each time u come here u seem so out of it
hamzah
12:23 pm | no yea i get it
12:23 pm | i'm sorry again
12:24 pm | i dont know why im always there
12:24 pm | it's like i get high and then i just
12:24 pm | lose control of everything im doing lol
12:25 pm | i would say that it wont happen again but i cant promise anything
you liked the message right after he said it, as another message was waiting to be sent in the text message box on his phone.
12:25 pm | i'm sure it'll happen again
12:25 pm | i miss you
yet, the messages were highlighted and deleted.
--
moving day came quickly without a visit from hamzah and you were upset. though he wasn't sober, you missed simply hearing his voice. you missed how he looked at you with glistening eyes, adoration still laced in the stares he gave you as he was laying on your lap. you felt horrible about missing him; he was only coming over as drugs poisoned his body, mindset, and sense of judgement, yet, you simply liked seeing him.
your apartment was now empty and you were sitting on the floor, taking in the fact that you were genuinely leaving. you knew you could back out of your lease at any moment if you wanted to. your stuff was in the moving van downstairs, so it wasn't like this had to be a permanent decision. for someone so adamant on leaving, the change of heart almost gave you whiplash. hamzah entered your life with a plague and, somehow, you were refusing treatment. you sat on the cold, hardwood floor, rethinking your decisions, as another knock was heard from the other end of the door.
this time, you didn't want to let him in. he wouldn't let you leave if he did. you would see the pain in his eyes that he's so desperately trying to get out with the weed he's been smoking, and you would let him in. this time there was no couch to sleep on. there was no boxes to question about. there was nothing there. you heard a muffled voice come from the door you were staring at.
"i'm sober, i swear. let me in, please."
--
you and hamzah sat on the floor together in silence. a part of you was afraid of listening to him. if anyone was able to convince you to stay, it'd be him. yet, another part of you was begging for him to convince you to stay. internally, you were a seesaw that was constantly imbalanced with different weights on each side.
"hamzah, i can't just sit here- i have to leave soon and-"
"i love you."
your eyes widened as your heart began to beat quicker, almost as if your heart was a ticking time bomb that those three words became the detonating trigger. you finally made eye contact with him, as his eyes were already on yours. this time, for the first time in the past couple of times you've seen him, his eyes were normal. there was no hint of red in them and no glossiness. he wasn't tipsy and you didn't have to help him figure out where the floor was or where your furniture went. this time, he couldn't sober up and leave.
"you decided to tell me this now, as i'm leaving? hamzah, what the fuck is wrong with you?" your voice raised slightly louder, "you waited until the final fucking day that i was here for you to tell me that?"
"i've been wanting to say it ever since we started dating. i was scared-"
"you don't think i'm scared? i'm fucking terrified. y'know, i almost moved to a whole fucking country just to get away from my problems and then i- suddenly, i just realize that you were the fucking problem this whole time! are you serious, hamzah?" you noticed a grin appear on his face, "oh, you're smiling? what the fuck are you smiling about? what could possibly make you happy in this moment. i'm literally yelling at you for being a genuine dumbass-"
"you said almost."
the anger you felt dissipated as confusion took over your emotions and facial features, "what?"
"i 'almost' moved to a whole fucking country. you said 'almost,' that means you're not going to."
"no-"
you wished you could slap that stupid smirk off his face, "no, you're going to stay. you said 'almost.' you never wanted to move- you were waiting for me to say it, weren't you?"
your jaw slightly dropped for a moment; you didn't even realize that your subconscious peeked through your anger, "no, that's not-"
"i love you."
"hamzah, stop-"
"i fucking love you."
the two of you suddenly became closer than you were, interlocking lips as if they were hands that were molded together. the nostalgia took over any sense of judgement you previously had, including the anger that you previously felt for him. for someone who wanted to run away from their problems, their problem being hamzah, you gave into what your subconscious truly wanted fairly easily. it, somehow, isn't surprising that you decided to kiss the problem. mid-kiss, it suddenly dawned on you that perhaps you were also the problem. you both decided not to speak, which was on the both of you. he pulled away, fixing your hair for you and kissing your cheek before speaking again.
"you let me in. you looked through your door and, each time i came over, you let me in. you can say whatever you want about me. you can say i'm a fucking dumbass. you can call me an asshole for coming here over and over again and fucking with your head without realizing. i even apologize for that," he kissed your forehead, "but my point is: you can say all of that, and somehow not hate me."
"i don't hate you, hamzah. i never said i did-"
"when martin said you were moving, the first thing i did was spray the perfume i stole from you onto a pillow. then, i smoked so much of my pen that the battery died both times i came over. i need you here. i thought i needed a place to crash whenever i get high and lonely-"
"really, hamzah?"
"let me finish before you get mad. no, i didn't need that. i need you here. do you know how fucking hurt i was after i found out from mandy that you were leaving before i even had the chance to fix things? you think i'd let you just leave without me trying to get you to stay first?"
you sighed, "you let me leave when i left you."
"and look at where that got me. baby, i'm a mess without you. i don't care about anything anymore. there are times where i just sit in bed all day and mope about you because letting you go was the worst mistake i've ever made in my entire life. i can't just let you leave again- not after knowing where that left me the first time. i need you back. i'll do anything. i'll beg for your forgiveness, just- please. stay."
"what do you mean by 'stay?'"
"let me fix things. let me make things better. i'll fight for you," he placed his hands on your shoulders, "i'll say the things you can't say. i'll do the things you can't do on your own. i'll do it- i'll do all of it. please. stay."
your voice got as soft as a whisper, "where would i stay?"
"with me. stay with me."
he pulled your chin towards his lips and kissed you gently, once more.
"i love you. stay."
you interlocked your hand with his, as you sat together on the floor of your old apartment.
"help me move my stuff?"
--
authors note
i kinda hate how i ended this but this came to me in a dream LOL
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liahaslosthermind · 18 hours ago
Text
𝑬𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏
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Summary: The 4 times the Night Court’s Shadowsinger mentioned… someone, and the first time his family got the promise of an answer. 
Content: Angst, with the promise of future fluff
Warnings: Angst, I like making Azriel sad sorry, I also take the ‘mate talk’ in the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter and rewrite it to fit this story. I also haven’t read CC yet so apologies if Bryce is OOC Azriel x OC [not introduced in this part]
*Slight spoilers for the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter
Bryce turned to the fae female next to her, “You have a mate, don’t you?” Nesta simply nodded in response, a slight smile forming on her face, followed by a deep blush. “Do you?” The red head directed at Azriel.
Nesta’s stomach dropped. She knew it was a sore subject for the Shadowsinger. What with everyone else in his family being mated except for him-
“I do.” He said, a trace of apprehension in his voice. Nesta’s head snapped to face him so quickly that her vision spun for a moment, causing her to stumble.
Regaining her footing, she barked out, “Azriel? What the fuck do you mean?”
The trio stopped walking for a moment, tension settling over the once calm night air. She gave him a demanding, and slightly betrayed, look. Even though his eyes met hers, Azriel kept quiet. Bryce simply looked between the two, face wrinkling in the awkwardness of the moment.
“Ah. A sore subject, I guess?” Bryce laughed, or tried to, it only came out forced and uncomfortable. 
“Who, Az? How come I had no idea? Does anyone know?” There wasn’t anger in her voice, just hurt. 
He had to bite back his usual replies, the ones he gave to his family when they tried to ask questions or bring up the topic without him bringing it up first. Not that he ever did. 
“She’s-” he swallowed. Cauldron, when would he finally be able to talk about her without wishing the world would swallow him whole? “It’s not something I want to discuss right now, especially with present company.” He sent a pointed look at Bryce. He couldn’t hide the misery in his tone this time though as he took a deep breath and continued, “I will tell you about her, Nes. One day. I’d just rather do it on my own terms. On my own time.” Nesta opened her mouth, seconds away from arguing, when he put a hand on her shoulder, “Please.” he begged, softly. 
The glimmer of silver in his eyes caught her off guard, gave her such a knee jerk reaction of protectiveness that she gave him a crushing hug. It was strange, this feeling. Azriel, the broody, closed off, terrifying, annoyingly perceptive, kind, and unbelievably loving friend she never knew she needed had just revealed a part of himself she could tell he kept locked away for good reason. The thought that even the mention of his mate could bring him to tears made her heart break in a way she thought impossible after all she had been through. 
She took a deep breath as she pulled away, “When you’re ready,” she agreed.
He smiled back at her, while it was genuine, one of the few he reserved for his family, there was still insurmountable pain in his eyes. 
Nesta turned back to Bryce, “Can you play more of your music? Just none of that screaming one.” She asked, shaking her head at the memory of the Death Metal genre she hadn’t liked when the redhead had played it for them. 
She smiled softly as she felt Azriel squeeze her hand in a silent Thank you before he let go. 
The High Lord sat, feet propped up on his desk. “When do you head out for Rosehall?” He asked.
Azriel, standing by the window to the right of his brother, answered, “The morning after Solstice.” Rhysand grimaced when he heard the mask of indifference his Spy Master had in his voice. “I still need to pick up a gift before I go.”
Rhys took it for the invitation it was. “Would you buy her something from me? On my account this time.” He tried to put on his commanding-High-Lord voice as he said it, but he knew very well that Azriel wouldn’t listen to the last part of his request even as his brother smiled in agreement as he walked out of the room, sending an inclination of goodbye to his High Lady in the chair across from her mate. 
“Rosehall? What female is he visiting the day after Solstice?” Feyre spoke into her mate’s mind. 
Despite Rhys’ usual inability to keep anything from his mate, he couldn't bring himself to explain, couldn’t bring himself to cross the very clear lines his brother had set all those years ago. 
“It's not my story to tell. And don’t ask someone else, if any of them know, they also won’t talk.” 
Certainly not the answer she had expected, as was evident by the look on Feyre’s face.
“And if I ask Azriel?” she inquired.
“It will just bring up things he isn't ready to share. He will come to you- come to us- some day.” ‘One day’ Azriel had promised his family long ago, long before their family had been as big as it was now. “I just pray it's under better circumstances.” 
Feyre froze, feeling the weight of mixed negative emotions flowing down from her mate’s side of the bond. For once, she was even more confused after asking Rhysand for more information. 
“Well, I believe we’ve reached the threshold of faked amiability before one of us attacks the other. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Eris said as he stood up from his chair, starting to grab his papers without so much as a glance to his reluctant hosts. Even years after their alliance was set in stone with the agreement from the Night Court to back Eris’ claim to his father’s throne, even after fighting beside them in war, these faked niceties could only go on for so long before the claws came out. 
No one in the Night Court’s Inner circle could say there was anything but relief to see the Autumn Court’s High Lord walk away. But before they could let out a breath of relief, Eris stopped and turned to the Shadowsinger. 
“I have received word that your… gift has been finished. I will send someone to get it to you within the week.” 
Azriel’s head quickly snapped to Eris, “And they were able to meet all my requests?” He asked, not caring that everyone else in the room watched the interaction with fierce intrigue. 
The eldest living Vanserra boy scoffed, “I assured you they’d be able to.” Azriel let out a relieved breath at that. While he’d known Eris’ court capable of such a thing, it wasn’t much more difficult than lesser magics, but hearing it confirmed ignited hope he didn’t know he still carried.
“Thank you. She’ll love it.” The Spy Master replied earnestly, much to Eris’, as well as the rest of the Inner Circle’s, shock. 
The red haired fae simply schooled his features and nodded in response before winnowing away. 
Despite the heaviness all the secrets and questions caused, everyone remained silent as they watched Azriel slip out of the room. 
The dining room had been filled with loud chatter for the weekly family dinner. Love filled teasing and relentless jokes put everyone in a good mood. Nothing felt better to the Night Court’s Inner Circle than being all together. Unfortunately, it had to come to an end. 
“I’ll be leaving for a few days.” Azriel told Rhysand, who was sitting to his left at the head of the table. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He quickly added. 
“I thought you were leaving the day after?” 
“I was, but the package I had been waiting on came, and I’d like to deliver it as soon as possible. I’ll drop your gift off too.” With that, Azriel got up, nodding a quick goodbye to his family, before disappearing into his shadows.
It wasn’t a request to have a few days off. He hadn’t asked if his High Lord could spare not having his Spymaster for a little. He didn’t even wait for any sort of goodbye from the rest of his family. He just left, the house sending his place setting away to be cleaned, as if he had never been there in the first place. 
Once again, everyone had questions, concerns, for their friend. But no one spoke up, as per usual. 
Until the one fae in the room with truly no information in the matter grew concerned enough with everyone’s immediate change in attitudes. 
“Where is he going?” Elain asked, looking between her friends and family. 
She saw on everyone's faces, in their eyes that refused to meet hers, that no one would tell her. Till she sent a look, full of concerned innocence, to Cassian. 
“Rosehall” He blurted out. “Or at least, I assume that's where he is going.” The last part was directed towards his older brother. 
“Where is this Rosehall?” Feyre asked, feeling he invitation Elain’s question had opened into the untouchable subject. 
The High Lady, like her second oldest sister, sent a look to Rhys, knowing he'd break for her under an embarrassingly small amount of pressure. 
“None of us know,” he gave in, “He goes at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes he’s there, often, for months. Then he will go quite a while without any visits.”
“Is it his mate? Is that who he is seeing?” Nesta inquires. 
The word seems to suck all the air out of the room. His mate. Azriel’s mate. Their brother’s mate.
Nesta’s stomach drops at the looks she receives from Cassian and Rhysand. 
They didn’t know. 
As she opens her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by a palm smacking the table.
“Enough! You all know damn well this isn’t what he would want. The only reason you all seem so comfortable talking about it is because he's gone, too preoccupied to leave a shadow behind.” Mor argues. “He has asked one thing of us in the 500 years he has been by our side, to let him- let them- be.”
With that, she winnowed out of the room, leaving a suffocating mix of guilt, confusion, and concern behind. 
Everyone could feel his presence the second he got back to the house. The light and happy Solstice air seemed to vanish in an instant. The shadows suddenly alive and wreathing. 
Rhys and Cassian had gotten up to check on their brother. While he had said he’d be gone till Solstice, they had assumed he would be there the full day to celebrate with everyone. But he had missed celebrations, for both Solstice and Feyre’s birthday, had missed dinner, and had sent no indication that he was even alive. His mental walls had been as fortified as ever, not letting Rhysand nor Feyre in the numerous times they had tried to check in. 
Their walk over to their brother’s room became a run, followed by the rest of the family, as they heard a loud crash. 
The room was dark, but they could make out the faint outline of the broken mirror and Shadowsinger standing in front of it, holding his hand as blood seemed to drip from a wound. In the dark, the sight was unsettling, but in the light, it was far worse. 
Cassian moved quickly, leaving Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle by the door in stunned silence. 
“Woah-” Cassian said as he lifted Azriel’s hand, causing his brother to pull back in startled shock. He hadn’t known they were coming. Hadn’t sensed their presence even then they were right in front of him.
“It’s okay, Az. But we need to clean out the wound. Make sure there aren't any shards in-” The general stopped as he looked at the Spymaster, seeing the tears streaming down his usually stone cold face. 
All he could do was help him sit down as Mor, seemingly better equipped to handle the situation, came over to kneel in front of her long time friend. 
“Az?” She took his uninjured hand in hers, her other hand going to his face to wipe away the tears. “Come on, maybe you shoul-”
“She’s gotten worse.” He admitted, his voice noticeably wobbling, “So much worse, Mor.” 
Mor quickly looked at everyone else, seeing the shock, the empathy, and worse of all, the pity. She knew more than the others, not the full story, not even close, but enough to know that their reactions were part of why he kept all of it a secret. He couldn’t handle their emotions on top of his.
By the time she looked back, she saw that Azriel had noticed it too. She could see him shrinking back into himself, trying to hide everything. 
She couldn’t let it happen again. 
“Let me in, Azriel. Don’t pretend, don’t go through 200 more years of this.” She pleaded. Luckily, this seemed to pull him back out. “Let us all in, please?”
“I can’t- I don’t want pity.” He admitted.
Rhysand spoke up this time. “Is that what you think this is? Just pity? Az, come on. We all love you, we want you to be happy. But we don’t want fake happiness. Seeing you like this makes us all upset, because we love you. Please, let us prove it. Let us in.” Rhysand begged. 
Azriel gave them all a onceover, emotion showing so clearly in his face, in his eyes, that no one seemed to be able to breathe. 
He took a deep breath before speaking up, “Tomorrow. I’ll explain- show you all, tomorrow. For now, I’d just like to celebrate Solstice, and your birthday, Feyre, with my family.” 
The air lightened up a little bit at the promise. Tomorrow, they’d all face what Azriel had been dealing with alone for 200 years. But tonight, they would all celebrate Solstice, the return of light and promise of a brighter future, as a family. 
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mommyslittlebird · 2 days ago
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Far From a Monster
Wanda x Reader
After a particularly intense session, Wanda has some conflicting feelings about what it means to be your dom.
CW: Dom Drop, Blood, Mommy Kink, Guilt, Sexual Shame
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: As someone is who isn’t a dom very often, I don’t know how accurate a depiction this is of dom drop. This is just what I’ve heard from other people. But I hardly ever see it written about so I wanted to give it a shot.
A/N: I KNOW, I said in the poll it was going to be more stepmom!Wanda next, but that fic is going to take longer than expected. Also in my defense this one was in the lead until almost the very end.
She had you just where she liked you.
You were face down on the bed, a sobbing mess in her hands. You had started on your hands and knees, but had long since collapsed forward. She had her hands drilled into your hips, which was the only thing that kept you up on your knees. She used her grip on you to force you to keep her brutal pace, cruelly dragging you back on to her each time she slammed her hips into you.
“Mommy please! Mommy it’s too much! Please mommy it hurts!” You cried. Your arms were wrapped around a pillow you were pathetically crying into.
“Aww sweetheart,” she cooed with faux sympathy. “You can give me one more, I know you can. Can you do that for mommy?”
You whimpered and squeaked into your pillow, but nodded nonetheless.
She reached down to pet your hair, but inadvertently drove your head further into the pillow. You moaned as her hand gripped your hair. “Oh you like that? Do you like it when mommy hurts you and pulls your hair?”
You nodded, but she pulled harder, pulling you up off the bed a little bit. “Words, princess.”
“Yes mommy! Yes I love it when you hurt me a-and pull my hair!” You cried. “Please mommy, I’m gonna cum again.”
“Is it starting to feel good again, baby? See I told you mommy’s cock wasn’t too big for you. You said it wouldn’t fit, but it’s made you cum, what, three times now?”
“You were right! You were right!” You conceded. “Please let me cum on your cock. Please mommy please.”
“Hmm,” She pretended to consider the request. “Tell mommy about how you're her cockslut and you can cum.”
“Yes mommy, I’m your cockslut. I’m your little toy you can use however you want,” you pleaded. “Fuck I’m gonna cum. Mommy I’m gonna cum for you.”
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came so hard the strap fell out of you and hit your leg. Wanda smirked, satisfied with herself as you collapsed onto the bed.
Until she looked down.
There was blood.
And not an insignificant amount of it either. She swallowed. It couldn’t have been your period, could it? No you had been on birth control for years and hadn’t had a period since she’d known you. Besides, this was too bright and fresh to be period blood.
“Honey?” She asked, voice shaking slightly. “You don’t have a period anymore do you?”
“Hmm?” You asked, not immediately registering her question in your fuzzy haze. “No. Why?”
You looked down, seeing the blood that covered both your inner thighs and Wanda’s. “Oh. I must’ve torn a little bit. Sorry.”
Her brows knitted in concern. Her heart was racing. It felt like it might beat out of her chest. “I-I’m gonna go get a towel. Stay right here, baby. I’ll be right back.”
You couldn’t tell through your haze how panicked she truly was. You missed the way her voice broke when she spoke. You didn’t see the tears that pricked the corner of her eyes. You didn’t notice the frantic way she scurried into the bathroom. You simply laid on the bed, blissfully nuzzling a pillow.
Wanda closed the bathroom door, taking off the strap and running it under the sink. A cry broke through her lip when she watched the water run red.
How did she not notice you were bleeding? Were you telling her to stop when you said it too much? Did she push you too far? Had you torn at the beginning and just been in pain the whole time? Did you forget your safe word? Fuck did you say the safe word and she just hadn’t heard it? Did she genuinely hurt you? Were you going to be mad at her?
All the worst case scenarios ran through her mind. She felt a monstrous guilt rise up in her chest. She hurt you. She hurt you and she didn’t even realize it.
Why was she like this? Why did she even like to hurt you in the first place? Why did she like it when you cried for her? What kind of monster enjoys hurting the person they love?
“Wanda?” She was pulled from her thoughts by your gentle voice at the bathroom door. “Is everything all right, honey?”
She was bent over the bathroom counter, bracing herself against the granite. Tears were running down her cheeks causing her hair to stick to her face. You took a couple steps towards her, cupping her cheek. She pulled away.
“Wanda, baby, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?” You asked.
Wanda shook her head. “No, love. No you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then what is it?” You asked softly, reaching out for her again.
Her teary green eyes finally met yours. Her bottom lip trembled. “I hurt you,” she admitted softly, in almost a whisper.
You took a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a little tear. I’ll wear a pantyliner, it’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” she cried, “I hurt you! You were bleeding and I didn’t even notice! You were telling me it hurt and I didn’t listen!”
You pulled her into a tight hug, cradling her head into her chest. “Wanda, it's okay. We were just playing, just like we always do. I was having fun. I would’ve used my safe word if I wanted to stop. You did everything right, love.”
Wanda wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “I feel like a monster,” she cried softly.
You rubbed her back, kissing her temple. “You’re not a monster, love. You’re nothing of the sort,” you reassured. “You are so so far from a monster.”
She clutched you harder, pulling you impossibly close. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, honey,” you said, taking a moment to rub her back before proposing: “How about we get cleaned up and have a nice soft snuggle night, huh?”
Wanda nodded into your chest. “Is it alright if I take a shower up here and you take one downstairs? I think I just need a minute to myself.”
You pulled her out of the hug, holding her face in your hands. “Of course, honey. Just no more spiraling into thoughts of being a monster, okay?”
She smiled, turning her head to kiss the palm of your hand. “No more spiraling,” she agreed.
You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Wanda. And I think you’re a wonderful person. And I think you did everything perfectly.”
She giggled. “I love you too, darling. Now go take a shower downstairs. I’ll be ready for you when you come back up.”
—————
You finished up your shower, returning to your room in some soft pajamas pants and one of Wanda’s sweatshirts. You limped up the stairs a little awkwardly. The tear hurt a little bit more than you expected after the adrenaline wore off, but it was nothing a Tylenol couldn’t fix.
You walked into Wanda nervously fluffing the pillows in a little nest she’d made for the two of you. She turned around when you opened the door, still looking a little anxious. “Oh, hi I um, I got this for you. And some Tylenol.”
She held out what looked like a pad, but was cold to the touch. “What’s this?”
“It’s just a pad with some chilled witch hazel. It’ll help with tear,” she explained.
You looked down at the pad with a hint of disgust. Pads always made you feel so uncomfortable. But when you looked back up at Wanda’s anxious frown, you simply smiled and said “thank you, love. I’ll put it on now.”
You tucked the cool pad into your underwear. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it felt better almost immediately afterwards. The cooling sensation did wonders for the burning of the tear. Wanda smiled for a moment when you sighed in relief, but quickly went back to nervously playing with her hands. “C-can I ask you something?”
You took her fidgety hands into your own. “Of course love, anything.”
She tilted her head up to briefly look you in the eyes. “Do you think you could call me mommy for tonight?” She asked. The words came fast and jumbled, like she had to force them out of her mouth before she changed her mind. “I mean I know we only use it while we’re playing and I’m being rough with you and that’s fine if you just want to stick to that and you’re under no obligation to say yes or anything I just thought that maybe I could be mommy and be sweet and take care of you just so it’s clear that I still love you when I’m mommy and I’d never do anything to try to hurt you on purpose even though mommy Wanda seems super cruel and sadistic…”
You interrupted her nervous rambling with kisses to each of her knuckles. “Of course, mommy.”
She stopped speaking for a moment, looking at you with all the love a gaze could possibly hold. She looked like she might cry again, but she simply reached up and touched your cheek. You melted easily into her touch and it made her heart sing.
She loved you, and you knew she loved you. You didn’t flinch or shy away from her. You didn’t wince like she was going to hit you. You trusted her. Even as mommy, she was going to take care of you.
“Okay, my love,” she whispered. “Let’s get you to bed.”
—————
You spent the rest of the night cocooned in a variety of soft blankets. She had you sat between her legs, arms wrapped around your waist while she repeatedly kissed the top of your head.
She had her laptop open on your lap. The two of you giggled over a game of Firegirl and Waterboy. She even let you play as Firegirl even though the Waterboy keys were much harder for her to reach around you. For a kids game, the two of you were doing exceptionally poorly, not even making it past the first few levels before your eyes started to droop and you yawned.
She gently closed the laptop, moving it to the bedside table. “Alright princess, I think it’s about time for bed.”
“We’re already in bed,” you teased through a yawn, curling up on your side into her chest.
“Cheeky girl,” she chuckled, kissing your head and turning off the bedside lamp. She pulled you close, swaddling you against her chest with a blanket.
You rubbed your face into her neck and sleepily mumbled, “I love you, mommy.”
She smiled giddily, glad you couldn’t see her in the dark room. She gently rubbed the back of your head. “Mommy loves you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”
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manlvrr · 3 days ago
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I hate the CaitVi Sex scene
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Everytime I see someone thirsting after the scene and gushing about how it's so hot, I feel so disgusted and ticked cause of how the scene came about and where it's located.
Before we get onto my rant about the scene itself, I want to mention the CaitVi scene that happened before that.
"She saved your life!"
"If you will just calm down for on-"
If you will just calm down for once? Hypocrite. Caitlyn's allowed to be pissy, allowed to call Zaunites animals (oh, "except" Vi though) and then fight like an animal by biting Sevika—
Sidenote:
That's also another scene I don't find hot at all. Any time I see it, I can't focus on how attractive Sevika is when she's smug (even though she totes is). All I can focus on is how Caitlyn bit Sevika. I don't remember who pointed it out, if it was on Tumblr or TikTok which I have promptly deleted since the ban, but someone pointed out that Caitlyn is fighting dirty—like a Zaunite. Caitlyn was backed into a corner, so she fought like an animal.
Fuck her.
I guess now she can somewhat understand why Zaunites fight the way they do. When you're backed into a corner, feeling helpless, feeling desperate, you fight like it and she did the same exact same thing she judged them for.
Bastard.
Lol can you tell I'm feeling bitter over her character?
Back to OG rant
—biting Sevika, gas the undercity and harshly interrogate someone who was a victim of Jinx's shenanigans, hit Vi for trying to calm her down from her grief driven rage, but oh, no Vi must calm down even though she's barely angry compared to when Caitlyn's angry. Not to mention that Caitlyn throws a tantrum herself and throws the tiny figure in her hand to the ground.
"—since you don't trust her enough not to shove her in a box."
Can we please take note of the tremble in Vi's voice when she says that? 'Oh, Jinx brought back her trauma from being in Stillwater!1!2!1' First of all, shut up. Second of all, yeah. . . So did Caitlyn?? Caitlyn may not have known what to do with Jinx, but the option for her to let Jinx go to prison was there and Vi hated it.
"Cait, she's changed."
"We can't erase our mistakes. None of us."
All the while not doing any time of her own for the crimes she committed—and no, I'm not talking about her gassing the undercity. What she did as a dictator, letting Noxians take over, and hardly doing anything afterwards even though she caused so much pain and misery to both Piltovians and Zaunites goes unpunished. Her losing an eye is nothing compared to the fear many people will feel while living under a dictatorship.
Get the guillotine!!
"Who decides who gets a second chance?"
Exactly. Caitlyn did no better than Jinx. She knows it too. It tears her up inside—as it should!!! Besides, did she think Jinx wasn't going to eventually get out of Stillwater? Or was one of her options to let Jinx rot there until she died? Yeah, I'm sure your girlfriend would love that.
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Now, let's get to the scene itself!
But first let me talk about what happened right before that—
Vi tries to get Jinx on her side, Jinx rejects her, and Vi watches her sister leave while being told by her that Vi "deserves to be happy" and not to "worry about her anymore".
Yikes.
People say that what happened next with Caitlyn was Vi "finally being selfish", but it just feels wrong to me. Don't get me wrong, Vi deserves to enjoy herself after everything that's been done to her; however, you aren't going to have normal, healthy, healing sex right after seeing a loved one leave you for good.
Trust me lol I've had enough grieving/traumatic experience to know that you can feel upset for hours and won't immediately be able to get into a happy mindset even if you find something to entertain yourself with. You can have people try to cheer you up and you feel a bit better, but you still feel that lingering horrible feeling inside that will eat at you for who knows how long. You could give me Steb wearing the cutest little red panties I have ever seen in my life and I'd still be sad while trying to eat him out. You need to give me that like a day or so AFTER my little breakdown cause I won't enjoy it right after crying about losing my sis.
Sidenote:
Someone please remind me to draw that.
It would take at least an hour for Vi to get back to normal with the way she was reacting. At least. Vi was in that cell for who knows how long, but she was still upset and rather vulnerable when Caitlyn found her. No doubt she needed more time to get herself together.
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Okay, now, let's get to the scene itself!!!
Bro, don't fuck me while I'm crying unless I'm crying cause I'm laughing too hard or because of sexy overstimulation. Fuck me? Nah, fuck you.
"I choose wrong every time—and because of it. . . I've lost everyone."
"Did you really think I needed all the guards at the HexGates?"
SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT AWWWWWUUUPPPPPPP—anyway,
Your girl is clearly upset, grieving her lost relationship with her sister (and likely other loved ones shes lost like Vander/Warwick), feeling guilty, and clearly not in any type of good mood yet your first reaction is to smirk???? You think this is funny?? Now is not the time to tease, Ms. Dumbass.
Vi needs compassion and reassurance not. . . Whatever that was. Yes, showing that you knew all along and didn't do anything to stop her shows that you do care for her, but it also isn't what she needs. Caitlyn did not reassure her that Vi wasn't going to lose her so easily.
Mainly because if she did, that'd be a lie, but that's neither here nor there.
"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable."
Girl, you are not sorry. Quit lying. I can smell the smoke coming off your pants, but I'm not getting the fire extinguisher.
Again, this isn't what Vi needs. Any therapist would be able to tell you that you should seek healthier coping mechanisms other than sex. Does cuddling not exist? Does making out and then putting a stop to it because you realize your girl is not in the right state of mind for this exist??? Seeking sex after feeling so vulnerable and horrible about yourself is in no way, shape, or form okay. Shit isn't cute.
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Caitlyn, you are more of an animal than you realize.
"Listen! While you were gone, I. . . Saw someone."
All of a sudden you realize that you should stop things because you feel guilty, but that guilt isn't over letting your girl go down on you after being upset and grieving, but about. . . Having another girl while she was gone???? Girl, seriously, your priorities are wack.
She does hesitate for a moment once she sees VI's injury (I can't remember where the injury came from. I stg if it came from Caitlyn or whatever Caitlyn ordered her to do. . .) yet she continues on. There are multiple reasons why they shouldn't do it right then and there, but Caitlyn is so horny she lets Vi pleasure her.
The reasons:
1. Vi is not in the right place of mind, she just lost her sister. Please let her grieve.
2. That is a jail cell. After what happened to her, their first time should be somewhere comfortable. Vi deserves comfort. She deserves to be spoiled. You're in Piltover, Caitlyn has a mansion with a really good bed, but your first fuck is in a dirty jail cell??
3. That is a jail cell that contained her sister. Vi can't reclaim shit about having sex in a jail cell if it's a cell that contained her sister. If there was better writing, she'd feel guilty over having sex in the cell she lost her sister. Her guilt isn't going to immediately go away because of one fuck. That's not how it works. Wish it was, but it's not.
Can I also note that Vi is the one pleasuring Caitlyn and not the other way around? Maybe Vi prefers to eat out rather than be eaten, but I think it just speaks more to her always servicing others rather than servicing herself or being serviced. If the sex scene was gonna happen, at least show Vi being completely selfish and enjoying herself by showing Cait be the one to kiss her down to her coochie. Maybe she's a stone top, but she gives off switch vibes to me.
Fuck you, Cait. Always wanting things to benefit you.
(If it was me, I'd eat Vi out, but, again, that's neither here nor there. . . She's not even in my top favs. I just want the best for her cause I hate Caitlyn lol.)
"I'm feeling fantastic."
FUCK YOUUUU
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Okay *drops mic* , rant over
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cherrymoonxx · 16 hours ago
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Sweetheart Saturdays Pick a Card:
A glimpse at your most intimate emotional moment with your future spouse
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Choosing a pile:
Take a moment to connect with your body. Allow yourself to really feel. Focus on your breathing and clear your mind. Choose the pile that calls out to you.
Pile 1:
Candlelit nights, whispered promises, soft reassuring touches…
Welcome pile 1!
For you, I’m seeing a quiet evening. Your future spouse had planned a cozy night in, illuminated by candlelight. I’m seeing two people sitting comfortably on the floor, fire from the candles flickering ever so gently. It’s quiet, with the exception of the two hearts that are beating nervously in anticipation. You attempt to break the silence by making a small joke, hoping to ease some tension, but when you turn to look at your future spouse, you see the intensity in their eyes. Their eyes, focused solely on you. Urging you to see, to understand. So many truths hidden behind those eyes finally coming to light. And you had known, or at least had an inkling. Because you feel the same. But it’s too much in that moment. You start to look away, but they gently caress your face. Ripples of emotion enveloping you both. Their touch on your cheek quietly reassuring you. Any worries slowly starting to melt away. They start to shift closer to you, closing the space between you, stopping only inches from your face. Both hands now cupping your face. They take a moment to admire your features. Your hopeful eyes, the rosy tint on your cheeks, and your lips. Lips ready to be claimed. They smile tenderly. Knowing that they’ll finally reveal the truth you’ve been waiting to hear. And then they whisper those three little words for the first time.
Pile 2:
Silent tears, guarded hearts, can a kiss mend your heart?
Hello pile 2!
For you guys, I’m seeing an intense moment of vulnerability. This comes at a time when you’re running away from something. There’s some kind of anger and hurt involved. A heart afraid of being broken.
Your future spouse had made their intentions clear to you. Their loving words, gentle touches. The way their eyes never fail to light up when they see you and the way they’d pay attention to even the tiniest of details about you. You just knew. But knowing is too much. It’s too painful because you feel you do not deserve this. So you do what you think is best. You lie. Feelings locked away into the depths of your heart. Forcing yourself to be numb. And when they come see you, you lie. You lie when you tell them you never want to see them again. You lie when you say that you’d be better off without them. And you lie when you say that you never felt anything for them. The lies escape your lips continuously. And you hope that you were convincing enough, but your eyes betray your lips. The words gushing out of your mouth mean nothing when your eyes are brimming with tears. The truth quietly unfolding with every tear that cascades down your face. But the stupid tears won’t stop falling. Anger mixes with fear. A struggle to keep those feelings tucked away. Your vision blurs. You’ve lost your composure, any semblance of control completely gone. So many emotions overflowing. Embarrassment, anger, exhaustion. And you hate how vulnerable you feel in this moment. You think there’s no way your future spouse would willingly choose to be with someone that is capable of such hurtful words. You think you must look so pathetic. But when you look at them, their eyes hold no trace of judgment. Instead of leaving, they softly embrace you. Quietly soothing you, whispering reassuring words. Telling you that they know your words are not true. They know your words come from a place of fear. Fear of getting hurt. They understand your fears and they vow to support you in any way they can. And hearing those words only make the tears fall harder. Is it really okay to believe these comforting words? But your future spouse understands you so profoundly. They know how deep your wounds run and they are extremely patient with you. The night ends with you in their arms, spilling your inner most fears. Bearing your heart to them and them accepting it as their most precious gift.
Pile 3:
Longing gazes, gentle touches, a deep understanding between two souls.
Hello pile 3!
For you, I’m seeing an unexpected but welcomed moment. You and your future spouse had been together for a while, and everything had been a dream. You’ve never felt more secure, understood, and safe. They were a constant, grounding presence in the chaos of your life. Little by little, they had slowly made a home in your heart in a way you never thought anyone ever would.
I’m seeing that your future spouse is someone that has been through many hardships and because of that, they have a tough time talking about any problems they may have. They feel like they have to be strong and put on a brave face consistently. And while you admire their strength and their persistence, you wish that they’d let you in. You want to be able to help them when they’re having a tough time, much like they do for you. They do so much for you and they’ve helped you in a way that you will always be grateful for. But you also want to do that for them. To offer your support, be a shoulder to lean on. And this is a topic you’ve brought up a few times, but they kind of just tell you not to worry because they’re okay.
One particular night, the topic is brought up again and things get a little heated. You tell them that you feel this relationship has become a bit one sided. While you’re thankful for how much they take care of you, you feel like they neglect their own needs and never allow you to take care of them. You feel like you have bared your entire heart to them and yet, you feel like you don’t truly know them because they have never fully opened up to you.
“Do you think I don’t care about you?” “Do you not trust me?” “Why won’t you let me in?” These questions pouring out of you. But they just insist that they don’t want you to worry and that there’s nothing for them to say. And that makes you extremely frustrated. You ask them if they think this is how a relationship should be. One person holding all the burden? But they stay silent. You realize that they won’t budge, so before you say something you’ll regret, you leave.
And you guys don’t really talk for a few hours. It’s the first real fight you guys have had and it sucks. You just want to be a pillar of support like they are to you. And you don’t want to push them into anything they’re not comfortable with but you can’t help but feel inadequate. Like you’re not a good partner. And that hurts to think about.
You’re mind is too busy reeling from these thoughts that you just barely noticed when they slipped into bed with you. It’s quiet. None of you saying knowing what to say. But then they turn to you and whisper an apology. They explain how it’s always been difficult for them to ask for help, especially when it comes to their loved ones. They never want to feel like a burden to those they care about the most and even though they know that their feelings aren’t a burden, they can’t help feeling like they are. But seeing how they hurt you by how distant they were, they realized that they needed to make a change. You are the most precious part of their life and they couldn’t bear to lose you.
Hearing these words, you shift closer to them and quietly wrap them in your arms. You hold them tightly as they continue to express all the feelings they’ve been holding in. You wipe their tears as they begin to fall and gently give them reassuring kisses letting them know that they’re safe. You continue to soothe them as they talk for hours. The night is spent with them expressing their inner most thoughts/feelings and you comforting them.
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That’s all for now! I hope you all enjoyed this reading💕 Until next time!
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larluce · 3 days ago
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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)
FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART
(Sorry for the delay. This part is going to be a bit crazy)
Merlin has never been able to stay mad at Arthur for too long, so he soon finds himself back in Arthur's chambers and stays there the rest of the day, lying in bed, while Arthur pampers him.
Being taken care of is a pretty new feeling for Merlin. And, though sometimes it still feels weird, he doesn't get that feeling of wrongness anymore when Arthur brings grapes to his mouth and massages him to help him relax. If anything, he deserves this after the uncomfortable moment Arthur put him through.
As night falls and Arthur cuddles with him, Merlin can't help but wonder: What did he do to be this fortunate in this life? To get this Arthur to love him so throughfully and cherish him this much? Some fear invades him too: Is this a trick of The Sidhe? To get him everything he ever wanted to later take it all away from him. But then Arthur tells him "I love you" again and dissipates his fears with a kiss.
Merlin spent all his previous life suffering and worrying constantly. In this life, he'll let himself be happy.
Arthur: (his hand trails down Merlin's body as he kisses him)
Merlin: (pulls away from the kiss, breathless) Wait... We shouldn't...
Arthur: Why? (kiss) You are my lover. (kiss) I already made you mine yesterday. (kiss)
That is other thing. While Merlin is still processing the new nature of their relationship, Arthur assimilates it and his active role in it with ease. It disorients and overwhelms him, the intensity of how Arthur shows his love. Merlin doesn't recall a single time Arthur has been this possessive with Gwen, let alone Arthur making jealous scenes like the one he did with Gwaine moments before. It makes him nervous... but also hot for some reason.
Merlin: (stops the kiss, though he still blushes, a mix of embarrasment and arousal at Arthur's words) My offended lover act. I'm supposed to be avoiding you for two weeks, remember? If we do it everyone will know and think I forgave you too easily.
Arthur: We'll be discret.
Merlin: My limp won't be so discret.
Arthur: I'll be gentle.
Merlin: (looks doubtful)
Arthur: Please. (hand caresses his waist, hip and then his thight) You can't tell me you don't want it. (lips very close to Merlin's)
Merlin: (gives in, beacuse gods he wants this so bad) Alright, but just once. And be gentle.
Time skip. Next day in the morning.
Merlin: (Wakes up and whimpers in pain) You fucking liar! 😡 (hits Arthur with a pillow)
Arthur: (chuckles softly) Again, you weren't exactly complaining.
Merlin: (doesn't want to admit he was in fact enjoying it too much to stop him) Well, now I am, you brute clotpole! How am I supposed to go for your breakfast now?
Arthur: That can be arranged. (calls out) Guards!
Guards: (enter, weapons up) My lord!
Merlin: (startled, barely has time to react, just covers himself with the covers)
Guards: ...
Guard 1: (looks away in respect) Uhm... Did you call us, sire?
Arthur: (very chill) Tell the cook to send someone else to bring my breakfast, please.
Guard 2: (also looking away) Right away, my lord.
Guards: (leave)
Merlin: (uncovers himself, almost shouting) Why did you do that?! 😡
Arthur: (innocently) You said you couldn't bring breakfast.
Merlin: You know what I mean, you prat! We were supposed to be discret! Now everyone will know- (cuts himself, opening his eyes wide in realisation) And that's what you wanted. You did it on purpose! (gets off the bed furious despite the pain)
Arthur: (gets off the bed too) Merlin-
Merlin: (dressing himself with hard movements, furious) NO! You think this is funny? Letting them see me in your bed as if I was some harlot? Do you know how humiliating that is?
Arthur: I didn't think-
Merlin: Of course you didn't think! But you knew how important this plan was to me and you still didn't care. You trampled on my wishes as if they were worthless. As if I didn't matter (hurt emerges into his fury) How could you do that to me? (finishes to dress himself)
Arthur: (realising how much he fucked up, very sorry) You are right. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. (about to put a hand on his shoulder)
Merlin: Don't! (makes a move to go to the door)
Arthur: (puts himself infront of him) I'm really sorry!
Merlin: I don't want to hear it! (darts around him, but ends up tripping with a blanket and ends with his face on the floor) Stupid blanket! (his eyes glow and the blanket ends in little pieces)
Arthur: (swallows, thinking) Even his magic is angry, he must be really upset (aproaches carefully, kneeling before Merlin) It was never my intention to step over you and I hate myself for making you feel that way.
Merlin: (very hurt) Then why did you do it?!
Arthur: (sighs) I wasn't honest with you.. regarding your plan.
Merlin: ... What?
Arthur: I was never comfortable with it. It hurts to pretend that we are separated when that's not true. And you involved me in this plan before even consulting it with me first and then make me go along with it. You never once asked my opinion on the matter either. It made me feel like you care more about some rumors than me, as if our relationship was something to be embarrased of. And it is not! If anything, I'm proud to show you off, to let everyone know that I love you and you are mine.
Merlin: (calms down a bit, feeling bad, but still angry) You are right, that was selfish of me and I apologise if I made you upset, but what you did was not better. Is one thing to "show me off" and other to expose me naked in your bed after being intimate! And how dare you say I'm embarrased of us? Me trying to recover some of my dignity has nothing to do with that! If you were so against my plan you should have said something instead of making me look like an easy lay!
Arthur: (caressess Merlin's face) I know. I was childish and impulsive. I'm sorry. I'll never discard your wishes ever again. Relationship is a two-way street. If we are not okay with something we talk it out from now on. Alright? Will you forgive me? (offers Merlin a hand to help him stand up)
Merlin: (just stares at him, still frowning, resentful)
Arthur: I'll tell everyone I gave you a very big apology gift and that's why you forgave me.
Merlin: So now I'm not a cheap whore, but a expensive one.
Arthur: (desperate) Then tell me what to do to make you forgive me! Anything and I'll do it!
Merlin: (keeps staring at him, frowning)
Arthur: (begs) Please! I'm so so sorry. Tell me how to make it right. (holds Merlin's hands, pleading) Please.
Merlin: (sighs, giving in cause Arthur looks like he might cry if he is not forgiven and Merlin really doesn't like making Arthur this upset) My lily is lonely. I want another.
Arthur: (relieved) Sure!
Merlin: And I want it to be white.
Arthur: I'll get it for you right away. (hugs Merlin and gives him a kiss) Are we okay now?
Merlin: (thinking) I'm still angry and hurt that you put me in such a vulnerable position, but what's done is done. And I can see you are really sorry, why waste time fighting? (smiles, reassuring) Yes, we are okay.
Time skip. In Gaius' tower.
Merlin: (enters, limping)
Gaius: (worried) My boy! (grabs a little bottle and gives it to Merlin) Take this for the pain. Shouldn't you be resting?
Merlin blushes, very embarrased, because of course Gaius knows. Everyone in the castle knows. If the limp and guards catching him on Arthur's bed wasn't enough of a clue, all the visible bites Arthur left on his neck definitely are. Not even his neckerchief is able to hide all of them.
Merlin: Thank you. (drinks Gaius's potion for the pain) I can still help you around here as long as I don't have to move much. (grabs some herbs and jars with liquids and puts them on a table) It's the least I can do after losing your ingredients yesterday. (sits on a chair, wincing a bit)
Merlin frowns at the memory of Arthur and Gwaine's display from the day before (in which he lost his cest with all the ingredients he had collected). It's difficult to concieve a world where Arthur and Gwaine don't get along, let alone one when they hate each other to guts.
Merlin: (thinking, reassurring himself) They just have to stop acting like cave men and get to know each other. I'm sure they'll become friends again soon enough.
Gaius: You don't have to worry about the missing ingredients. Someone else brought them.
Merlin: (surprised) Really? Who?
Gwaine: (comes out from Merlin's old room) Me.
Merlin: (avoids his gaze, still angry at him for yesterday and starts to grind some herbs)
Gaius: Oh, Gwaine. What a surprise seeing you here. I thought you'll be at a tavern by now.
Gwaine: (to Gaius, but not getting his eyes off Merlin) Hungover.
Gaius: (shakes his head) I'll prepare you something for that. (about to that)
Servant: (enters) The King requests the presence of the physician inmediatly. Something about needing his concoction.
Gaius: (sighs) Of course. (turns to Merlin) Prepare Gwaine's medicine for the hungover, I'll tend the king. (leaves)
Merlin: (sighs, thinking) Perfect.
Gwaine: (walks around the table, grinning) So... Merlin, isn't it?
Merlin: (ignores him, smashing the herbs, still not looking at him)
Gwaine: I can help you with that if you want (about to grab a bowl)
Merlin: (puts the bowl away and keeps smashing in silence)
Gwaine: (notices Merlin's love bites on his neck, chuckles and decides to joke) The prince was eager to mark territory, it seems.
Merlin: I'll finish this in my room. (stands up, grabing his things)
Gwaine: No, wait! (stops him) Forgive me. It was a bad joke.
Merlin: (leaves the things on the table and crosses his arms) Is that the only thing you are sorry for?
Gwaine: I may have also crossed the line with your prince yesterday.
Merlin: And?
Gwaine: And I'm sorry.
Merlin: As you should. (sits again and continues to prepare Gwaine's medicine)
Gwaine: (sits besides him) I know we had a rocky start. Two rocky starts if we count the Lady Merelyn one. But I would really like to be your friend.
Merlin: (confused) Why? (thinking) We bonded before due to our similar pasts. He doesn't know about my father yet. Why does he...?
Gwaine: (grinning, amuzed) Are you kidding? You are the most interesting person I ever met! There's always people telling so many stories about you they even contradict each other. It's madness! But the kind of madness I like. And the little time I spent with you was explendid.
Merlin: You mean the bandit attack and your almost confrotation with Arthur?
Gwaine: What can I say? You are a magnet for trouble... and I love trouble. 😏
Merlin: (rolls his eyes, but can't help but smile)
Gwaine: So? (extends his hand) Friends?
Merlin: (thinking) I do miss his friendship... (says) Alright, but only with two conditions.
Gwaine: Isn't friendship supposed to be unconditional?
Merlin: (warns) Gwaine.
Gwaine: Fine, Fine. Tell me. What are the conditions?
Merlin: One, you'll stop talking bad about Arthur in my presence or his presence.
Gwaine: Noted. (thinking) I can still talk bad about him with Percival.
Merlin: Two, you'll never EVER bother Arthur again in any way. This means no insults, no fights and no fake flirting with me just to get on his nerves.
Gwaine: (nods) Understood. No insults, no fights-wait, did you say fake flirting? 😧
Merlin: (extends his hand) Do you accept the conditions?
Gwaine: (shakes Merlin's hand) I accept.
Meanwhile. Arthur and Lancelot in the woods.
Lancelot: I found some, Sire! (points some white lilies)
Arthur: (aproaches) Just now?
Lancelot: Yes. What a relief! After you told me how long your search for the purple lily was, I thought it would take longer.
Arthur: It did take longer.
Lancelot: (confused) Didn't you say it took you days for you to find the purple lily, Sire?
Arthur: The purple lily yes. But I came across those white lilies in the first two hours of my search.
Lancelot: ...
Arthur: And it took YOU three hours to find them. Honestly, Lancelot, I had more faith in your hability.
Lancelot: You already knew where they were.
Arthur: I did.
Lancelot: (catiously) Why did you ask for my help then, Sire?
Arthur: I wanted to speak with you privately.
Lancelot: About what, Sire?
Arthur: Well, It had come to my attention that you holded up some facts in your narration of the events regarding the bandit attack. Specifically some actions one of your new roommates did.
Lancelot: (thinking, nervous) Gwaine... the poor man. (says) Percival or Gwaine?
Arthur: You know who. Merlin told me Gwaine flirted with him and talked ill of me.
Lancelot: (sweating) Oh... that. 😅 (thinking) He's SO dead.
Arthur: He did not go into details though.
Lancelot: (thinking, in relief) Thank the gods!
Arthur: And that's why I'm asking you for said details.
Lancelot: (thinking) I talked too soon... (says) Pardon me, Sire?
Arthur: (with and icy calmness) What exactly did Gwaine tell Merlin?
Lancelot: I can't really remember, Sire.
Arthur: That's a lie. (pulls out a knife calmly) You have a great memory and you are more observant than anyone. That's how you could give my father a very detailed inform and how you discovered Merlin's magic so fast. So, I'll ask again. (plays with the knife in his hand) What did he say?
Lancelot: (trembling) S-sire 😰
Arthur: Why are you looking at me like that? This for the flowers. (passes Lancelot and starts cutting some leaves so the lilies are more visible) I don't want to ask again.
Lancelot: (swallows hard) I truly don't remember, Sire. I was a bit distracted. Gwen was there and... Well, you know, how love is.
Arthur: (gives an understanding smile) I do. You must love her a lot. I can't blame you.
Lancelot: (sighs in relief)
Arthur: (smiling sweetly) Now tell me the truth or I'll make sure you can't never marry her.
Lancelot: (thinking) Sorry, Merlin. I did try to save him. (says) Well... this is what I remember.
Time skip. Gawine and Percival walking around the Lower Town.
Gwaine: I spit it and I told him "Did you make it taste this bad on purpose?" and he said "No, that's how all Gaius' medicines taste". So I retorded "I rather have hangover that drink that shit again".
Percival: (laughs) You didn't even had a hangover. You were waiting for him.
Gwaine: (shrugs) I owned the guy an apology.
Percival: And since when do you apologise for anything?
Gwaine: (brings a hand to his chest dramatically) It offends me that you think of me that way. I'm a man that recognises his mistakes and knows how to apologize. I feel no shame in it.
Percival: I agree that you feel no shame for anything. (sighs) You finally have some genuine romantic feelings for someone. And of all people you could have chosen, it had to be the prince's lover.
Gwaine: (chuckles) I don't have "romantic feelings" for Merlin. He's fun to be with, is all.
Percival: Good. Because he is out of discussion. The prince will have you killed if you dare to try something.
Gwaine: Uuuh! Forbidden love 😏.
Percival: (warns) Gwaine.
Gwaine: I'm kidding! I'm not suicidal, I don't want to end up dead in an ally.
Percival: (stops to buy some vegetables)
Gwaine: Oh, I'll be over there (points somewhere). I need to... eh... take care of something.
Percival: Do not flirt with married women. 😒
Gwaine: That happened once! She wasn't wearing her ring and was not exactly rejecting me. How was I supposed to know she was married?
Percival: Nor some other prince's lover.
Gwaine: Again, once. (pats his back goodbye) I'll see you by the chickens. (leaves)
In some jewellery stand.
Seller: How can I help you?
Gwaine: Yeah... uhm... (pulls out a ring) I would like to sell a ring.
Meanwhile, in Merlin's chambers.
Merlin: (just lying in bed resting, not because he wanted to, but everyone insisted him to)
Lancelot: (enters suddendly) Merlin! Sorry for disturbing you, I know you are... erh... indisposed.
Merlin: Honestly Lancelot, it would surprise me if someone DIDN'T know I'm "indisposed".
Lancelot: But this is an emergency. Do you know where Gwaine is?
Merlin: He went with Percival to the Lower Town to buy some things, why?
Lancelot: Great. We have to go there. Now! (grabs Merlin wrist and drags him outside)
Merlin: Wha... wait, Lancelot! What's the emergency? What are we doing?
Lancelot: Saving a life!
Back with Gwaine in the jewellery stand.
Gwaine: Come on, man! I got it for more.
Seller: That's what I offer. Take it or leave it.
Gwaine: (accepts the money reluctantly) You Camelotians are such thieves.
Arthur: Says the one who wanted to steal my lover.
Gwaine: (startles and turns) Oh, the princess has arrived! (remembers his promise to Merlin and corrects himself) I mean, what brings his royal highness here?
Arthur: Why on earth are you in possession of a ring?
Gwaine: Men are allowed to have rings.
Arthur: It looks pretty feminine for you.
Gwaine: I have very... epecific taste.
Arthur: Sure, it had nothing to do with Lady Merelyn asking you for a ring if you wanted to be with her.
Gwaine: Look, I didn't know Lady Merelyn and Merlin were the same person at the time. As far as I knew, you had rejected her for him after what happened with the bandits and the only thing that could restore some of her honor was marrying someone.
Arthur: And you were so willing to do that sacrifice, weren't you? So eager to save a damisel in distress from a, how did you say?, a corrupt and debauchee prince.
Gwaine: How did you... It was Lancelot wasn't it! 😠 That telltale!
Arthur: No, he's good at keeping secrets. I'm just good at getting them out. I don't care what people say about me, let alone a nobody like you. What infuriates me is that you, did not only flirted with MY lover, but dare to tell him that I was playing with him, that I did not love him or took him seriously.
Gwaine: Again, as far as I knew, you had this lady as a misstress instead of as a wife, knowing that kind of relationship damages a woman's reputation. Anyone would think you were playing with her. If I knew she was actually a he I would have understood why you couldn't marry.
Arthur: And if it had been so, what? Are you always this honorable, defending the virtue of women unknown to you? No, you only did it because you wanted something with her. It wasn't out of the goodness of your heart. If you had any honorability or goodness in your heart at all, you wouldn't have filled Merlin with insecurities just to get your way!
Gwaine: (offended) I didn't fill Merlin with-
Arthur: (raising his voice) Tell me how telling someone their love does not really love them back, that they are just being played and will never have a serious comittement is not filling them with insecurities!
Gwaine: (actually feels bad) I... didn't think of it that way.
Arthur: Of course you didn't.
Gwaine: (impatient and annoyed) Look, I'm sorry, alright? I spoke out of turn, now I know you love Merlin genuinely and I won't question it or your relationship with him ever again. So go back to your big castle and do whatever is that you royals do. (makes a move to leave)
Arthur: (steps infront of him, not letting him pass) I believe we have something pending. (throws a glove to the ground) Pick it up.
Gwaine: ... What?
Arthur: You said you wanted to fight me, to see how skilled I was, so... (points the glove) pick it up.
Gwaine: (laughs) I won't pick up your fucking glove.
Arthur: By the knight code, you have to pick it up. So… Pick. It. Up.
Gwaine: No.
Arthur: Why not then?
Arthur: (smirks) Why? Scared?
Gwaine: Believe me, I have no shortage of desire.
Gwaine: One, because I promise Merlin I wouldn't fight you. And do want to keep being his friend, you see.
Arthur: (sarcastic smile) How sweet.
Gwaine: Two, I have no obligation. I'm no knight.
Arthur: Oh... you are right. There's no need of this. (punches Gwaine in the face)
Gwaine: (falls to the ground and brings a hand to his face in pain) You motherf- 😡
Arthur: I heard bar fights were more your style! (gestures him to stand up with his hands) Come on!
Gwaine: (stands up, angry) You asked for this.
Meanwhile, Percival by the chickens.
Percival: (being waiting for about half an hour, says to himself) Where is him? (hears people making commotion) What's happening there?
Little kid: (from afar) Mom, mom! They are fighting!
Mom: Stay away sweetie!
Percival: A fight? (an horrible thought comes to his mind and runs there, praying) Please let it not be him, please let it not be him. (gets there and spots Gwaine) It's him... 🤦‍♂️. (praying again) Please let the other not be a nobel, please let the other not be a noble. (recognises Arthur) That's the prince! 😨
Arthur and Gwaine: (beating the shit out of each other furiously, both bleeding from their recent injuries)
Percival: (very worried, runs to intervene)
Knight y: (who is patrolling there, stops him) What do you think you are doing?
Percival: I'm the one who should be asking! 😠 Isn't your work to prevent unrest from happening?
Knight y: Normally I would put an end to it, but this is the prince. We can't intervene. Is against the law.
Percival: What kind of law is that?! You are supposed to be protecting your prince!
Knight y: It was his wish to fight. I can't go against his wishes.
Percival: Well, I don't care. My friend is there. (makes a move to go to Gwaine's aid)
Knight y: (stops him again) I'm sorry, but we can't let you intervene.
Percival: We? (looks around and spots more patrolling knights) You have to be kidding me... What if my friend fatally injures your prince? Haven't you thought about that?
Knight y: We kill him before he does.
Percival: ... What? 😰
Knight y: It's the law.
Percival: And... if your prince fatally injures my friend? Will you stop him too?
Knight y: (shakes his head) He's the prince.
Percival: (thinking) Now I understand why Gwaine hates nobelty so much. (tries to pass the knights anyway)
Knights: (point Percival with their swords)
Knight y: Trust me it will be worst if you intervene. You won't only get your friend killed but yourself too.
Percival: (begs) Please, you can't let this happen! There must be a way to stop them!
Knight y: (thoughtful) Well, I think there is a way...
Knight x: (scolds) Alynor!
Percival: (desparate) How?
Knight y: The prince always listens to his manservant.
Percival: Merlin! Of course. Where is him?
Knight x: In the castle, resting. I heard he is... "indisposed".
Knights: (laugh)
Percival: (leaves running)
Knight x: (shouting) It's quite far! You won't get him in time! (sighs, to Knight y) 15 silver coins that he won't make it.
Knight y: Make it 20.
Some other part of the Lower Town.
Merlin: (still being dragged by Lancelot, sore and exhausted) Lancelot, please. We've been walking for hours. I'm tired.
Lancelot: (notices Merlin in pain and lets go of him, feeling bad) I'm sorry. I had a feeling that... (thinking) That Arthur would commit murder. (says) Forget it, I'm just being paranoid. Forgive me. I'll carry you back to the castle if you like.
Merlin: (chuckles softly) I would say no, but I really can't take one more step.
Percival: (crosses pat with them) Merlin! Thank the Gods! You have to come with me! (grabs Merlin's wrist)
Lancelot: (stops Percival) Wait, wait, wait! Where are you taking him?
Percival: The prince and Gwaine are fighting!
Merlin: WHAT?! 😨
Lancelot: (thinking) I hate being right... 😔
Percival: (starts dragging Merlin)
Merlin: (trips) Ow! (frees himself from Percival's hold, angry) Stop dragging me like some rag doll! 😡 I can walk on my own! (walks on his own, but he's too in pain to walk fast enough and he's limping) Those stupid idiots-Ow!
Percival: (Impatient) There's no time! (Picks Merlin up in his arms quickly and runs)
Merlin: AAAAAAH! 😱
Lancelot: (runs after them)
Meanwhile, with Arthur and Gwaine.
Arthur: (kicks Gwaine hard)
Gwaine: (falls on his back in the ground) Argh!
Arthur: (approaches to help him stand up, cause it's still dishonorable to fight a man when he is not in a position to defend himself)
Gwaine: (thinking Arthur was approaching to beat him on the ground, kicks in the air to protect himself, but ends up kicking Arthur in the crotch by accident)
Arthur: (bends over in pain, his voice a scale higher) Ow! You son of a bitch!
Gwaine: (laughs his ass off, while he stands up) This was not my intention, but oh gods! (keeps laughing) I hope you are not planning to have offspring soon.
Arthur: (still bending over, catching his breath) Shut up!
Gwaine: (joking) On the bright side, maybe now I do have a chance with Merlin.
Arthur: (straights up again, a murderous look on his face)
Gwaine: (thinking) Me and my big mouth...
Arthur: (lunges at Gwaine in full rage)
Meanwhile, Percival finally arrives with Merlin in arms and Lancelot by his side.
Percival: (puts Merlin on the ground gently)
Knight y: (To Knight x) Ha! He's here. Pay me.
Knight x: (reluctantly pays him)
Merlin: (serious) Where is him?
Knights: (point in the direction of the fight)
Merlin: (walks as fast as he can there)
Knights: (step away to let him pass)
Percival: Sure, you can't let a broad man stop the fight, but the defenseless scrawny manservant that can barely stand on his feet is more than capable.
Lancelot: (to the knights) We are his friends. Let us pass.
Knights: (look doubtfully)
Lancelot: He may need reinforces. The prince won't forgive you if he gets injured.
Knights: (step aside)
Lancelot: (to Percival) Hurry!
Lancelot and Percival: (run)
Back to the fight.
Arthur: (on top of Gwaine, choking him on the ground with his hands)
Gwaine: (trying to push him away, in barely a whisper) I yield! I yield! You proved your point. Pleas... (can't pronounce a word anymore, trashes harder, he can't breath)
Arthur: (thinking, eyes cold) 278.
Gwaine: (his movements weaken, face almost purple)
Merlin: (screams) Stop! You are going to kill him!
Arthur: (lifts his head and gets off Gwaine, like getting out of a trance) Merlin?
Gwaine: (Takes a deep breath and coughs, his hands on his neck)
Percival: Gwaine! (kneels to check him, worried)
Merlin: (furious) What is the meaning of this?!
Arthur and Gwaine: (pointing at the other, Arthur in a loud voice and Gwaine in a hoarse voice) He started!
Merlin: (yelling) I don't care who started it! You are ending it. Now! (to the people who is around in a circle) What are you looking at? GO!
People gathered around: (disperse)
Merlin: (turns to Gwaine and Arthur, dead serious) We are going to Gaius now and I don't want to hear a single word from you until we are there. Do I make myself clear?
Arthur: Merl-
Gwaine: But he-
Merlin: (raises his voice) I said, do I make myself clear? 😠
Arthur and Gwaine: (nod effusively)
Merlin: (sighs, tired, and turns to Percival) Percival, help Gwaine. (to the knights) You, help your prince. (turns to Lancelot) Lancelot, carry me on your back.
Arthur: Why is Lancelot carrying you on his back? 😠
Merlin: BECAUSE I'M INDISPOSED! 😡 And you are not exactly fit to carry me right now.
Arthur: (tries to stand up) Of course I-Ow! (winces in pain)
Merlin: That's what I thought.
Arthur: (opens his mouth to protest)
Merlin: Not another word! (to the others) What are you waiting for?!
Everyone present: (hurry to do what Merlin said)
Percival: (whispers to Lancelot) I take back what I said about him being defenseless, he is scary.
Lancelot: (whispers back, smiling) You'll learn soon enough Merlin is not what everyone sees.
...
Arthur after his fight with Gwaine:
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This Arthur is so full of red flags I swear xD
Any idea of what is going to happen next?
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity , @lucifertookmyshoe @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense , @slightly-psycho-multifan , @jxmimac , @anarchelsworld , @beepbeep-yeah , @faithiikins , @the-moons-undying-light
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cornykrameri · 2 days ago
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Silco x Female POV Snippet Tags: Switch Silco, Power Play, Smoking, Light Bondage, Brat Taming, some-kinky-shit
— What’s taking so long? Never tied someone up before?
His voice was melodic, laced with mockery, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks. But I recovered quickly, shooting him a sharp look as I pulled the knot tight.
— Not someone as stubborn as you, — I shot back, tugging on the loose end of the tie.
He leaned forward, his face so close to mine that I almost gave in and kissed him again. Instead, my hand reached for the cigar box on the table.
Silco watched as I took one, placed it between my lips, and lit it on the second try.
— Bold, aren’t you? — his voice played like a melody, both mocking and intrigued.
I met his gaze, inhaling the heavy smoke.
— You have no idea, — I murmured lowly.
Clenching the cigar between my teeth, I pulled the tie’s loose end upward, forcing his hands higher. His wrists tensed, but he didn’t resist. With my free hand, I grabbed the end of the tie behind his back and pulled it downward, locking his hands behind his head. His eyes were sharp, studying me with playful, defiant attention. It wasn’t a submissive gaze—it was a challenge. And it thrilled me. I wanted to see how far he would let me go.
Taking the cigar in my left hand, I pressed against his chest, pinning him against the back of the couch.
— We’ve got some problems, — I began in an even tone, feeling the nicotine-induced lightheadedness creeping in. — But I’m just a person with pain, — I continued, swinging a leg over to straddle him, keeping his bound hands above his head. — And I want to take yours away, — I whispered.
He smirked, watching as I slowly drew on the cigar and released the smoke, tilting my head back. Pressing down harder on his lap, I extended the cigar toward his lips, offering him the chance to take a drag.
Silco stared at me for a long moment before tilting his head slightly to the side, rejecting my offer.
— Do you really think you can control me so easily? — he asked, his tone brimming with defiance.
What a stubborn man.
— I think I can, — I replied, pulling the cigar back and leaning in close. — Don’t pretend you don’t want this. Don’t act like you don’t crave giving me your soul and losing control just once in your life. — My voice was steady as I stared into his eyes, feeling every beat of my pulse echoing in the air between us.
I looked straight at him, wanting him to understand that I could see deeper than he allowed. Something shifted in his expression. His lips parted slightly, and I took it as an invitation. Slowly, I brought the cigar close again, leaving only a fraction of space between its tip and his mouth.
— Then admit you want it, — I said calmly.
His gaze darkened, and with a quick motion, he snatched the cigar from my hand with his teeth, taking a long drag.
— No, — I cut him off sharply, immediately taking the cigar back.
I pressed my lips to his, drawing the smoke from his mouth and throat. It pleased me that he let me do it—it meant he was playing along, teasing me, but it only made me more determined.
Pulling back, I exhaled the smoke, my head spinning and an unfamiliar, exhilarating sensation blooming in my chest. I looked at him—his hands tied above his head, his steady, confident gaze meeting mine. That feeling was turning me inside out, twisting in the most intoxicating way. It was the thrill of power. How long would he last before he gave in? What would it take to make him surrender?
— Shall we try again? — I asked calmly, looking him over from head to toe as I brought the cigar close to his lips, so close that he could snatch it back if he wanted to.
He studied something in my eyes, his gaze tinged with doubt. For a moment, he glanced at the cigar before locking eyes with me again. His mouth parted ever so slightly, but instead of speaking, he clenched his jaw, refusing to give in so easily.
— Ask me for it, — I added, tilting my head slightly as I tugged his hands bound by the tie a little farther. — You won’t get it unless you just ask.
I saw something shift within him. Silco swallowed, his chest freezing for a brief moment as though he were wrestling with the decision. That tension was mesmerizing: he was trying to hold firm, but I caught the subtle cracks in his armor. Finally, he looked up at me and, in a quiet, raspy voice, said:
— Would you be so kind as to let me smoke?
Those words were clearly a struggle for him. My lips curved into a smile. I had succeeded: I had pushed him somewhere he hadn’t been before, and it intoxicated me more than the alcohol coursing through my veins.
— Anything for you, — I said, allowing him to close his lips around the cigar as I pressed closer to him.
He inhaled slowly, deliberately avoiding my gaze. It was endearing, his attempt to hold on to some scrap of control when I knew I was already winning. I felt his breath grow heavier, his body warm beneath mine. Moving the cigar away so he could exhale, I added softly:
— That must’ve been hard for you—saying it out loud, wasn’t it? — My words cut through the tension like a blade. — But see, the result was worth it, and nothing terrible happened.
He stayed silent, but I felt his bound hands twitch against the tie as if testing the knot. I didn’t waver; I observed him, soaking in the emotions he tried to hide. This was a moment of truth: he wasn’t surrendering all at once but step by step, allowing me to push further and torment us both. His vulnerability felt unnatural, but he permitted himself to show it in my presence, and that made my heart ache with contradictions.
— I know you’re scared. You are pins, — I whispered, taking a slow drag from the cigar before exhaling heavily. — Let me be your needles.
I leaned closer, my lips nearly brushing his, feeling his breath mix with mine, his body tensing beneath me. His intoxicating scent, that teasing look in his eye—I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out, but I wasn’t ready to give everything away just yet. My tongue traced the scar at the corner of his lips, sliding to the middle of his cheek, and I felt him freeze under my touch.
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frillydolle · 2 days ago
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Haiii!! I love ur writing so much ^.^ m'was wonderin' if you could maybe do a caitlyn kiramman one-shot/imagine where her inexperienced girlfriend wants to try more like, roughness, because she wants to experience subspace! (It's just like, deeeeeep submission, like ur mind feels fuzzy and you can hardly talk!) Caitlyn reluctantly agrees because usually caitlyn is the softest dom ever during sex, is like so gentle and always praising :( but now her pillow princess wants this? So she fucks the shit out of her <3
(Size kink, mocking, praise/degradation, CORRUPTION!!! Backshots maybe 👀strap and aftercare!)
If you can that would be amazing, if not thank you for your time :3 I hope you have a lovely day!
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caitlyn kiramann x female reader
꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ mdni , nsfw ; sizekink , praise , mocking? , inexperienced reader , commander era , can't take myself seriously,, im sorry:(
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“oh, such a sweet girl you are, hm?”
“pleease— i want more—” u whine out, feeling her thrusting into u at a painful, teasingly slow pace. u just wanted her to be faster, quicker, rougher, but u weren't sure how to ask her because that's so embarrassing! that was just.. filthy talk u couldn't see urself ever doing!
“you're doing so well, sweet girl.” she'd say, but u really wanted her to be rougher. she was just being slow and filling because u were still a little inexperienced, but u were sure that u wanted more of her, u wanted her to be a little meaner, u weren't gonna mind.
“please, cait, i want more— faster, please—!” u whined out, bucking ur hips into her as u feel her hands grip ur hips from behind. her hand gently trails up ur spine, which makes u shiver. she moves ur hair out of the way before getting a pretty view of ur back. she wasn't sure if she should do what u wanted since u were inexperienced compared to her but she was also a very important person.
someone like her was authoritative, she would guide others. so who was she not to guide a sweetheart like u, hm? “are you sure [name]? i wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable..”
“no,no, i want you to— mhmph— please, commander?”
commander.
pleasure would've left her body if she didn't have an ounce of self-control, or patience, even. u just knew what to call her in a time of need, don't you? and she was determined to show u what a kiramann would do for her partner. she did love u with her whole being after all.
a condescending huff left her lips before she gripped ur hips tightly then a squeal left ur lips as u begin to feel her pace quicken.. and deepen. this is most definitely what u wanted and got it with just a simple title of leadership.
“stop squirming. this is what you wanted, isn't it?” she says, thrusting in such a pace that u would barely keep ur eyes open! she's never been like this before. pent up rage? boredom? or has she wanted this for so long that she just kept quiet? u were only sure that she was making so so good, it was practically heavenly.
“yes! oh god, cait, yes, i— i want this!” u whine out softly, ur voice all shaking from the pleasure that was running through ur body. she always knew how to treat u, sometimes it was like she knew u more than u knew urself.
“i wasn't even sure how long i could stay away from you like this. some of these enforcers can be so... frustrating, but my pretty would be happy enough to make me feel all better, wouldn't you?” and u nodded immediately at her words, evening imagine the taunting look on her face right now if u were facing her. of course, it didn't take much longer to hit the sweet of urs and it was over.
continuous babbles and whines of yes, please, caitlyn and more would leave ur pretty lips. poor u, couldn't even form a single incoherent thought due to the way she's treating u. this feeling couldn't compare to no other, with her touching, her thrusting, her filthy, mocking words.. it was all to much but did u want it to stop? no, not really. or wait, maybe. did u? u weren't even sure.
“oh, you're close. i can feel it, sweetheart.”
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irisinluv · 2 days ago
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Careful What You Wish For
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TW: Depictions of violence, toxic relationship, slight nsfw themes at the start, magical bargaining, and not proof read
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You know, when you have a deadbeat boyfriend, you think that surely, the worst thing that can happen has already happened. He forgot our anniversary, asked me for money on my birthday, punched my uncle at a family barbecue, the list goes on. But sacrificing me to a demon is an all time low.
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I really should’ve realized something was off when he asked if we could spice it up in the bedroom…. And that he’d do all the work. This, coming from the guy who thinks missionary is too much work. But hindsight is 20/20…. I eagerly agreed. He tied me up with some itchy nylon shit, and while his knots were sloppy and didn’t feel sexy in the least… I still was so unbelievably excited at the initiative. I was completely bound to the bed, he had slipped a blindfold over my eyes…. This was new, exhilarating, and completely out of character for him.
As I listened, holding my breath as the anticipation built, I could hear him muttering to himself, heard the nightstand drawer open, and I shivered as my mind flashed to thoughts of the vibrator I kept in that same drawer. I felt the warmth of his body as he climbed ontop of me, sliding my shirt up ever so slowly. This was the same man who spent all day raging as he played Fortnite against 9 year olds, I really couldn’t believe it, I was soaked already any he hadn’t even touched me properly yet.
I squirmed at the agony of waiting, and then a knife sliced my chest from my sternum down. Burning pain crashed over my body. As I screamed in shock, fear, and pain, struggling uselessly against the ropes, he started chanting. It was some unknown language that commanded more respect than the stuttering pronunciations falling from his inexperienced lips. He fumbled over the words, his cadence was off, and yet; despite his less than stellar performance, a low pitched hum filled the room.
A sound like grating stone followed soon after, my ears straining to locate its source. I screamed the safe word, sobbing as I felt hot blood dripping down my body and pooling on the mattress beneath me.
That’s the first thing the demon saw when he appeared. My bloodied form yanking at the ropes, panicked sobs and pleas that oddly enough included the word “avocado,” and then the one who summoned him. A greasy man who appeared to be wearing a Minecraft t-shirt, now splattered with blood.
“Belial! Lord of the fourth hell! I, Matt, Duke of discord, present to you this soul sacrifice in exchange for my hearts desire!”
The throbbing pain from my chest, coupled with the blood loss made me lightheaded, and so it took me a moment to realize he was talking to someone, offering them my soul.
The demon remained silent, assessing. Matt continued,
“In exchange for this mortal soul, my wish is to never have to lift a finger again, to have all the money I could ever want, I want to be treated like royalty!”
If let out a frustrated scream at that, I’m bleeding out on the bed, the woman who’d been providing for him financially, making all his meals, doing his laundry, giving him below the desk support whenever he wanted it, and this is what I get in exchange? He’s sacrificing my soul, for what? So he can rot online for the rest of his life?
“Matt you lazy fucking asshole let me go!”
The demon watches silently as the I thrash and scream at Matt, and how Matt only rolls his eyes and says,
“I’m sorry about her. This is why I can’t wait to get rid of her, I mean really, I’m suffocating over here!”
I’ll show him suffocating…. But that’s when the demon finally speaks.
“I will accept your bargain. In exchange for this mortal soul, all your wishes shall be granted.”
Matt’s pimpled face breaks out into a grin and he pumps his fist in the air as if he’d just won a match. I sob in terror, still unable to see the figure, but his voice was deep and eerily calm. The demon snaps his fingers, and suddenly I feel the gash on my chest knitting itself back together. I gasp and take a few sniffling breaths as I assess what is going on, confusion wracking my brain. Aren’t I supposed to be damned to eternal torture or something now? Why is my head no longer pounding from blood loss? Why are my wrists no longer raw and throbbing from yanking the ropes? A hand reaches over and lifts the blindfold from my face, and I blink against the light.
The demon is tall and imposing, dark jagged wings and horns clashing with an eerily beautiful face. He strokes my face gently before turning to Matt, who is looking equally confused,
“You end has been fulfilled, allow me to uphold my end of the bargain.”
He snaps his fingers, and Matt screeches as his limbs snap to his side, immobile.
“Your first wish, to never lift a finger again.”
Another snap of his fingers, and gold coins begin raining down around Matt, thunking against his head and causing him to yelp and curse as the heavy disks continued their assult, pooling at his feet and slowly starting to swallow him up.
“All the money you could ever want.”
With one last snap, Matt’s prone form begins to be wrapped in bandages, his panicked screeches muffled at it wrapped around his face. A beautiful sarcophagus materializes, and Matt is lowered inside, the sounds of his terror cutting off as the sarcophagus sealed shut, standing silent and still amidst a pile of gold coins.
“And finally, to be treated like royalty…. Enjoy the pyramid, Matt, Duke of Discord.”
And with that, the sarcophagus and gold all disappeared, leaving me alone with the demon. Unsure of what to expect next, I was silent, terrified. He flicked his wrist and all the blood disappeared from my clothes and skin, the ropes securing me to the bed unraveled. He took my hands in his own and lifted me from the bloodied mattress, and then he smiled.
“Finally…. You’re mine.”
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