#so i feel like i have a good chance of making it

[void-my-warranty]

Soap Warms You Up (18+)

Service Dog Johnny Part 20 (full part list here)

Pairing: Simon Riley/Fem Reader/Johnny MacTavish Content warnings: Sexual contact, she/her reader Word Count: 2.7k

It makes you cry harder. 

Frozen, bitterly confused, Johnny’s words just turn you into more of an emotional mess. You devolve into gasping those deep, undignified sobs onto his shoulder, because all you know is it hurts. Being near him is a suffocating grief, and he’s as close as can be now, wrapping you up even tighter and muttering, “It’s okay,” over and over, as if saying it enough times will somehow make it true.

You attempt to stop crying long enough to apologize, but every time you try, your lungs seize and your voice breaks, and the tide continues. You must really be concerning Johnny, because at some point he starts babbling confused assurances that it’s not a big deal, and there will be other nights to do stuff, and are you upset because you’re cold?

“I’m s-s-s-s-sorry,” you manage explain through jackhammering teeth. “I know it w-asn’t— didn’t go the w-way I—”

“Let’s get these sorted,” comes a familiar, gruff voice from the front seat, and fingers grab for the sticky fabric of your leggings to start pulling them down.

“It was fun,” Johnny insists, petting your hair in a clumsy sort of way. “Maybe one of these days—”

“Trousers,” barks Simon, giving your leggings two irritated tugs.

Sadly, Johnny joins him in ridding you of your pants, instead of staying on the very important topic of whether or not you’re a massive let-down. 

You’re pudding-brained by it all. By the time you remember you can actually help undress yourself instead of sitting there uselessly, your hands just get in the way. So you get stripped in the car like a toddler, and then Johnny takes his coat off to tuck it around your thighs, and wraps you up in his arms again. If only you weren’t so cold, so you’d know if it’s a hug he actually wants to give. 

But you are cold, and your legs greedily suck up his coat’s residual body heat. Even his stupid warmth feels good, like it’s got a delicious taste of who he is stored in it. Johnny’s heat, and his body pressed to yours, and you can finally breathe, just a little. 

He sighs into your hair, as if he understands. You wish he wouldn’t. 

“Once the car warms up, you can take the coat back,” you whisper. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nae bother, I’m warm blooded.”

“Okay, well, Simon can give it back to you on Monday—”

“‘S alright,” cuts in the third voice, “we’re going round to Johnny’s after this.”

You can tell by the sudden rigidity of the body against yours that this is completely new information to Johnny. 

If you had some emotional strength left, you might worry about that. Might try to figure out some way to diffuse the situation and make sure he’s not offended by Simon’s glaring overstep, but you don’t. Your boyfriend has chosen this day of all days to go around Mr. Collins-ing Johnny, and you’re not in a position to do anything about it.

Besides, it lights a little spark of hope in your chest, that you’ll get another chance to make everything alright.

“Yeah,” Johnny says slowly, like he’s still processing the idea. “Yeah… alright.”

The first spot of heat from the car begins to warm your feet, and all you can do is exist. 

----------------------------------

“Got one of those speed settings,” Johnny promises, rummaging around his dresser for a pair of sweatpants. “Have ‘em clean and out the dryer in an hour.”

“Thank you. Really.” Your bare legs clamp together a little tighter for warmth, peeking out from beneath Simon’s enormous black coat. “And thanks for letting us crash your place in the meantime. I know it’s— Well, I know Simon didn’t exactly ask first.”

You keep your eyes on his face, on that vaguely happy expression that you suspect now is just his usual mask to keep people out. You should have known, really, but he’s different from other people you’ve met. He’s figured out how to avoid suspicion unless you look really close.

“It’s nothing. Get these on, and I’ll make you a tea.” He glances a little too long at your eyes as he hands you that bundle of clothes, as if they look as tender as they feel. His expression slips a little right then, the corner of his mouth going tight with concern.

So you hold his gaze, attempting to convince him with some excessive eye contact that you’re actually doing much better, and he doesn’t need to worry at all. “Tea sounds great.”

Tea does not sound great. Cocooning yourself in blankets and scrolling on your phone until you forget why you’re sad sounds great. Getting kissed and cuddled and then sleeping for about twelve hours sounds great. But anything is better than the evening you thought you were going to have, crying into your pillow over your monumental failures.

To his credit, Johnny doesn’t hover. The door soon clicks shut behind him, and you can finally exhale. Tossing the sweatpants onto the bed, you eagerly flop yourself down beside them, squashing your face flat to the mattress on purpose so you won’t be able to breathe.    

You’re on Johnny’s bed, in the least sexy situation you can imagine. Bare, slightly sticky thighs, one sock coming off a little bit, hair messed up and eyes raw. And now your lungs are also burning, because you’ve decided to hold your breath, because you’re dramatic.  

Absently, your fingers curl open and closed on the blanket, giving you pleasant sensory feedback to counter the ache in your chest. 

You want someone touching you. Not necessarily in a sexual way, just some kind of contact to focus on and settle your nerves. You didn’t get to cry quite long enough to reach a state of numbness, and now you’re just unsatisfied, exposed and hungry. Your skin feels like the rough side of velcro, waiting for someone to brush up against it so you can snag them.

Too soon, you’re forced to raise your head and suck in some air. Your eyes land absently on Johnny’s bedside table, and you frown in confusion.

Is that?...

No way.

You quickly army crawl across the mattress to peer down at – exactly what you thought it was – the same sort of hobby things you have at home, shoved haphazardly into the top drawer so that some of it is poking out. So that’s how he’s able to show up to your house all those weeks ago, immediately proficient. ‘Never done this before,’ your ass. 

Maybe it’s a little spiteful and childish, but you use that as permission to snoop. You open the drawer all the way and quickly glance over the annoying, perfect lines of his project, before casting your eyes over the other contents.

Johnny’s got a similar knife to the one Simon has in his night stand, along with some mismatched notebooks and pencils, a few receipts, and condoms and lube. Two boxes of condoms and two different types of lube, to be specific. 

You shove the drawer shut as fast as you can, but it’s too late. There’s no avoiding the uncomfortable vision of Johnny having sex with someone else, in this bed. 

It should have been you.

Stop it.

It should be you, tonight. 

He said he’s done, though.

You’re pretty sure you could convince him.

Respecting people’s boundaries is the bare minimum standard for loving them.

Do you love him?

Suddenly, you can perfectly hear Simon’s voice in your head, scattering the flurry of thoughts with a long suffering, ‘Fuckin’ ‘ell.’

He’s right. You’re being dumb, and you aren’t in the right mind to make any sort of important decision. So you do the smart thing, and wander into Johnny’s bathroom to wash the sugar residue off your legs. You fix your hair as best you can, rid yourself of the coat, and then pull on Johnny’s soft, spare clothes. 

You need Simon. That’s exactly what you need, because that’s an actual resource you have, with no strings attached. You don’t have to think, when you’re with him. 

Like a heat-seeking missile, you make your way out of the bedroom in search of a comforting pec to rest your cheek on. There’s Johnny, busy doing something in the tiny kitchen. There’s the TV, playing football of course. And there’s Simon, relaxed and spread out in the only chair, which is a huge problem. He’s not supposed to be sitting by himself, he’s supposed to be saving you a spot on the couch, as your designated comfort person. 

You judge your options as you walk, glancing at the leather couch, and practically shivering at the cold isolation of it. 

Surely Simon knows you’re sad. He must realize he needs to be available to you, so it’s the reasonable thing to go out of your way to get extra close as you walk past his chair. You calculate your steps to slow at the right moment, so he can reach out and pull you into his lap. 

No dice. You make your way over the entire stretch of carpet without a single movement from Simon, or greeting, or any other of the hundred ways he could invite you over to himself. 

Hurt and annoyed, you plop your ass down on the couch as far from him as possible, and stare resolutely at the commercial playing on the TV. 

Boyfriend, what a joke. More like boy-acquaintance who shares a bed with you. Can’t be bothered to give you a hug on the worst night ever, obsessed with watching stupid footballers run down a stupid field and never score any goals.

Naturally, you curl your feet under you and cuddle yourself into the corner of the couch to cope. Best to compress yourself into a ball and communicate that you don’t need him, either. You’re fine. You’re at your ex-fuck-buddy’s apartment and he’s been fucking other people in his bed, and everything’s totally, completely fine. 

There’s a movement in your peripheral vision, and you’re such a bleeding-hearted sucker that you instantly whip your head around, hoping Simon has finally—

Nope. He meets your eyes with that familiar, disaffected stare as he finishes raising a bottle of beer to his lips. 

Motherfucker.

“Are you avoiding me?” you shoot at him, whispering the words quietly enough not to carry past the two of you.

Simon does that slow blink that’s his version of an eye roll, swallowing his sip. “Negative.”

Okay, but there’s an expanse of cold, empty cushion next to you, and you’re lonely.

“Hungry?” Johnny asks, emerging from the kitchen area with a mug of something in one hand, and a plate in the other. 

He doesn’t wait for your agreement, just sits right down next to you and puts his socks up on the coffee table. “Got some bread and cheese, and tea. Not sure how you like it, but G–uh–Simon puts all sorts of sugar in his, and I thought I’d spare you.”

You can’t help but smile over at Johnny’s offerings, the way he’s using his thigh as a table for your snacks. “This is… very nice. Thank you, Johnny.”

A​​utomatically your eyes flick up to his face, catching on the authentic, happy smile he’s directing at you. He’s never had you over before, not on purpose at least. It feels almost like something important, the fact that you’re here. If only you had the brain power to consider all the possible angles, you’d be able to figure it out.

Instead, you munch on the mediocre cheese and the very good bread, sip on the tea that’s really not so bad. You suspect Johnny just made tea for you the same way he makes it for himself. Sweet, with a little bit of milk. It warms you right up. 

“Did you do any acting when you were a kid?” you ask around a mouthful. 

Johnny finds the question as funny as you’d hoped, smiling as he steals a drink of your tea. “Nah.”

“You sure? There’s this show called Teletubbies, with this sun that’s a baby…”

“You’re full of it.”

“Do a baby laugh, so we can check.”

Johnny gives you a reproachful look, which you barely notice over the chuckling from the direction of the chair.

“I’ll keep my reputation the way it is, thanks.”

“When we’re alone,” you agree conspiratorially. 

Johnny groans with what you hope is pretend annoyance, looping his arm around your neck to lean you into him and kiss your hair. “When we’re alone,” he whispers back, in that joking-but-not-really sort of way.

“I missed you, too,” you mumble, heart starting to race at the risk you’re taking.

And to your surprise, Johnny just leans his head around and kisses you, before the words have even had a chance to land anywhere. 

Stubbly lips on your tingly, swollen ones. A blossom of something warm and liquid in your chest. A very male, very happy noise breathed into your mouth. 

Balance in the universe.

Fingers find your neck, sweeping comfortingly across your throat. You settle into the kiss, don’t dare stop any of it, because that’s when the uncertainty will take hold. If you stop kissing him, then you’ll have to think, so you just keep pressing your lips to his, respecting the slow pace he’s set, and waiting for him to lick against your tongue.

The plate must have vanished into thin air, because when Johnny pulls your knee up over his hips, there’s just you and him, and nothing in between. Dry and warm and melting into each other, you settle your pussy atop the hard bulge in his pants and hold him tightly in your arms.

It’s okay, your body says to his body, fingers sliding into his hair. Let’s just touch each other, and we’ll figure out the rest later. 

His mohawk has grown out a bit since the last time you felt it. It’s turned a little wavy and rough in your fingers, the sides of his head losing that velvet texture it had when it was freshly buzzed. 

Things have changed, you can feel it. He’s different now, his movements hesitant, his hands vibrating slightly as they coast down your thighs. It almost feels like something’s wrong, except that every time you try to pull back and get a look at him, he just crushes you closer, gets his hands under your shirt and starts feeling you up. 

You let him, because you want it. You want to connect with him again, give him that mindless pleasure and let him feel how right your body is for his body. 

Soon you’re topless and braless, basking in his attention, his tongue in your mouth, the dampness between your legs. You don’t want to fuck him in his bed, and be reminded of all the others who came before. You just want to make love to him right here, surrounded by the scattered snacks and tea, the signs of his caring nature. He’s a good person, and you’ll make him face it, see it reflected back at him because you’re the same.

“Need a condom,” he says hoarsely, when you’ve just got the button on his pants undone. 

“It’s okay, I’m still on the pill.” Your fingers find him through his underwear, stroking that poor, bunched up cock. 

“No, we n-need one, this time. Until I can get tested.”

Oh. Because he must have been having unprotected sex with other people. You draw your head back to get a look at his face, the eyes that suddenly can’t meet yours. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, because it is. Yes, it hurts to know. Yes, you’d like to use a condom for more than just your sake. But you never expected him to stay celibate. In all those days of grief and pain, the thought crossed your mind a few hundred times.

Johnny shakes his head a little, staring down at the cushion beside him. 

“Johnny, it’s okay.”

The noise that bursts out of him shocks you, a deep, snorted sob. You gape in surprise as Johnny’s hands shoot to his face, and he does it again, shoulders shaking. 

“Baby,” you whisper, and Johnny starts to cry.

Next Part

Dividers by the-aesthetics-shop

[wriokitty]

like a lotus in spring, you are mine to bloom — ft. alhaitham

synopsis: at twenty one, you’re just a girl he meets as he trains for the role of scribe. at twenty four, you’ve become everything he loves in this world. after three years of knowing you and nearly two and a half decades of life, alhaitham finally realizes why his father left letters for his mother instead of just saying the words outloud

❤︎ word count: 7.7k words — we find ourselves here in the same old situation again, i see LOL pls give it a chance though!! plssss

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; 18+ content — not suitable for minors ; not proof read ; strangers to friends to lovers ; mutual pining but not at the same time for a bit (he falls first <3) ; jealous alhaitham ; hinted drunk sex ; getting together + love confessions ; alhaitham character story spoilers + references to his grandmother and parents ; semi-clothed unprotected sex ; no prep ; some nipple play ; creampie ; the cringiest love letter at the end LOL

❤︎ comments: guys every time i write alhaitham it’s so corny and cheesy but . he is my fav genshin guy of all time i deserve to be allowed this okay

TWENTY ONE. 

You’re still a student when you first meet Alhaitham. (Not a student for much longer, but a student all the same. With a little luck on your side and good graces from your darshan’s sage on your thesis, you’re expected to graduate in just a few short months.)

You don’t have the best first meet. In fact, your impression of Alhaitham starts off entirely on the wrong foot. 

He’s newly graduated, just freshly rewarded a degree for his (impressive) efforts, and is now well on his way to training for the role of scribe—you heard he was offered far more prestigious roles, but for some reason, a genius like him settled for a role like that. You try not to judge. People have their passions, after all, and if that’s what he wants to do, well…who are you to make comments? (But amongst a school that only houses the brilliant, Alhaitham is, very undoubtedly, a standout. It’s hard to stand out in a school filled with only the best minds, but he manages to do so with ease. Sometimes, you’re almost jealous. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t aim a little higher than he does.)

He trains in the house of Daena. His first order of training is to fact-check ordinance drafts using books so he can better get the hang of drafting them himself in the future. You’re also in the House of Daena to find the last book for your thesis—after weeks of begging, you’re finally granted access to the restricted section to find it. 

And you do. Except your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold leather cover of a book. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go. But you need this book. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, you’ll admit at least that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.

“Um, excuse me,” you say politely, “I was kind of reaching for that.”

“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”

“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”

He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated, as he points out, “Your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”

Well.

Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that, yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion, has you at your wit's end, and if you have to play the role of a difficult student, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.

This guy, on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a book that you might never see again.

“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you were a bit easy to miss.”

You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”

“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”

“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.

“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for this ordinance, anyway.” With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)

Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) for you, you do see him again. Many, many times, in fact. When he works in the House of Daena as often as he does, and you like to spend all your free time there to study if you can, you’re both bound to run into each other often. Very often. 

And sometimes, it’s quite literally running into him. 

“Oof,” you hiss, staggering backward and hitting your head against the bookshelf behind you as you bump into a sturdy figure. You drop the books in your hand, blinking before reaching to rub your read as you start to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he says, looking mildly entertained. Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t escape him if you try, and now, you can’t even avoid him in your own personal space. “Although, I think I should be the one apologizing this time. I was too busy reading to pay attention. This section is usually empty at this time.”

“How often are you in here to know what section is empty at what time?” You raise a brow. 

“Too often to be considered good for my well-being,” he says dryly, sighing in misery. You crack a smile at that. Oddly enough, so does he—you don’t think you’ve ever heard someone say they’ve seen Alhaitham smile. It must be a rare sight that only you, and perhaps a very few others, can say they’ve witnessed. “I was just about to take a break to buy a coffee—I’ll bring one back for you, too, to make up for the cranial damage I’ve supplied.”

“A most wonderful idea,” you perk up instantly, “I love when I get to drain the wallet of a man.”

He gives you an amused look at that. And somehow, bringing you a coffee along with his own during his breaks is a habit that seems to stick for a long, long while after that. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY TWO.

Alhaitham’s feelings are hurt. Not a lot of words tend to do that—he’s been blessed with thick skin and an unbothered attitude to a fault, sometimes. But something about today, for some odd reason, hurts his feelings. 

Your words to the waiter who took your order keep ringing in his head. 

Oh goodness, no, we are definitely not dating!

Most people mistake you and Alhaitham for a pair of lovers rather than a pair of friends. It’s just the way things go when a man and a woman are seen together for extended periods of time over and over. It doesn’t help that Alhaitham doesn’t really have any friends. He had one before you, but…well, things are complicated now. Far too complicated to think about it more than necessary. He has you, and that’s enough. But the matter still stands that most people tend to assume that something blossoms between the two of you that isn’t just friendly. 

He was starting to think it was true himself, too. He knows it’s true from his end, at least. But you say those words with such a sure, definitive tone that it almost sounds like you’re offended by the notion of being seen as his girlfriend. And sure, he would be disappointed—he’s no liar—if you didn’t feel romantically for him, but he’d understand. It’s not something you can help. But you brush off the idea like it’s an anomaly of sorts in the universe for someone like you and someone like Alhaitham to be a couple. It hurts his feelings. More than it should. 

(He knows deep down, in the depths of his heart, that you don’t mean it that way. You never would. But irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance.)

Alhaitham knows from a young age he’s different than most kids his age. This fact doesn’t change as he gets older. He’s brighter than most of his peers—which is certainly saying something because Sumeru is a nation filled with enough sharp minds, it’s as though brilliance were the average trait. People don’t typically like Alhaitham (which is fine by him, he doesn’t like most of them, either. They mostly don’t meet his standards). The kids don’t play with him in the parks that Grandmother would leave him at while she shopped around at the market, and they don’t sit with him on his one and only day at the Akademiya when he is but an elementary scholar. It never bothered him. He preferred reading under the trees and self-learning at home, anyway. When he’s older and enrolled in the Akademiya full-time, they don’t prefer to partner with him for projects for any other reason than simply being guaranteed a good grade, and they don’t spare him a glance when they all converse in groups outside of class. He never cared for freeloaders, anyway—he only trusts himself for projects, and he is at the Akademiya to learn, not make friends. 

It’s not until he meets Kaveh does he consider the idea that friendships are meaningful enough to spare some effort into. But the end result of that only solidifies that he is best when in solitude. 

But then he meets you. Some part of Alhaitham knows very early on that you would never be just a friend to him. If it was friendship that he craved, he would have looked for it elsewhere before running into you. Something about you from the very beginning makes him yearn for things much deeper than that. Things that remind him of his parents. 

Friendship is fleeting. People at the Akademiya go their separate ways and meet new people. They fall out and have arguments. They grow up and grow apart and become different. But love blooms like the Kalpalata lotuses on a vine, timeless as time itself. It starts and never ends, one root stemming into more and more vines until they never stop growing.

Alhaitham has fallen in love with you. Logic tells him it’s only a recent development, but his heart has known this outcome would be brought about for a long, long time. And, in all truthfulness, your words have hurt his feelings. 

And yet, he still loves you through it. He thinks that even if you crushed his feelings with a cold, indifferent smile, he would still love you through it. 

A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you take a sip from your coffee. Puspa Cafe is not as busy at this hour, most people are in the middle of a work day, but Alhaitham is allowed to pick his lunch hour, and yours happens to be earlier than most.

“Sorry, I just have to ask—are…are you upset?” you ask gently, making him pause. 

Yes.

“No,” he says simply, “why would I be?”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not.”

“You were fine up until…I don’t know, a few minutes ago. Is something on your mind?”

You know him so well, he thinks. How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?

“I’m simply concerned about your sugar intake is all,” he eyes the cold, iced drink in your hands with more syrups than he deems necessary. You always have a penchant for choosing the sweetest drink off the menu, and Alhaitham will never understand how your teeth don’t rot.

“Well, that’s very funny,” you roll your eyes, “because I was just thinking about how low on vitamin D you must be—do you ever leave your study to see the sun?”

He spares you a soft chuckle at that, shaking his head before taking a sip of his own coffee—hot and black and with two spoons of sugar. Simple, like how he prefers. You make a face at his drink as he sets it down. 

“Have you ever thought about what you look for in a partner?” he asks suddenly, making you blink in shock for a moment. He flinches at his own forwardness just a tad. 

“Umm, I suppose a little here and there…why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, “just curious what your type was, that’s all. You’re painfully single, so I figured your taste was rather distinct.”

“Rude,” you scoff, rolling your eyes enough that he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re not suspicious. “Are you here just to poke fun at my choices today?”

Alhaitham should not be asking you this. Not when the answer so clearly is going to hurt his already very bruised feelings. Of course, your type won’t be him. And, of course, he is going to mourn your answer the second you give it, which is his own fault considering he’s the one who asked. (He has to wonder, for a moment, if this constitutes as an undiscovered hidden kink of his and whether or not he really just gets off on some unnecessary pain. Why else would he willingly subject himself to this?)

But, he’s caught off guard when you shrug and simply say, “I suppose someone who’s intelligent. I’d appreciate some good discussions. And…and maybe someone who’s kind, y’know? I would be rather sad if they were mean,” you pretend to sniffle dramatically.

“That’s…that’s it?” He tilts his head in equal parts shock and equal parts confusion. 

“What did you expect me to look for in a partner?” You snort, “A three-story mansion? A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on?” 

“Well, no,” he rolls his eyes, “Maybe something a bit less generic to narrow down your pool, I suppose, but if that’s your bar, so be it. There are far too many men who are intelligent and kind, you know.”

“Yes, but none of them show me any signs of interest,” you pout, “I must be undesirable or something.”

I desire you, he wants to say. He can’t quite find the courage to get the words out, though—and as if the universe has it completely out for him, the same waiter from earlier who is responsible for asking you the question that kills Alhaitham’s mood for the day comes back with the bill. And something else, too. 

Something that kills his mood for the week. 

His jaw clenches a tad when you flush at the note scribbled on a napkin for you, eyeing your flustered reaction while you read over the words: I get off at eight if you’d like to find me. You stare for a moment before you murmur, “Well, look at that. A sign of interest—it must be the Dendro Archon’s divine power.”

“The Divine have no say over who you fall for,” he insists.

“You don’t know that,” you hum thoughtfully, “The God of Wisdom knows her people better than anyone else, you know. I’d like to think she knows when love is bound for two people.”

You fold the napkin carefully and keep it in your pocket, and Alhaitham fishes out his mora pouch with stiff fingers. He leaves a very shoddy tip on the table before he exits after you. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY THREE.

You wake up in his bed. 

It’s a foggy memory, but you know you fucked Alhaitham after more sips of wine than you can count and one flirty comment too many. It happened in a blur last night, and you can’t say you’re surprised that it finally happened at all. Alhaitham is a man just like any other, and mingling pleasure with friendship is a normal thing to do. Falling under him on his mattress is not something you never had daydreams of—but the truth of the matter is that your daydreams don’t just stop with the bed.

They end with a toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. A mug next to his in the kitchen. Your shoes kicked off along with his at the entrance of a home. Your laughter and his bouncing off of the walls. A ring, maybe. One on your hand and one on his. 

In your imagination, it starts with pleasure, but it ends with love.

Falling in love with Alhaitham is a peaceful ordeal. He’s dependable and inherently kind. Strong and impressively capable. Intelligent and objectively handsome. You’d bring him home to your mother and father, and they’d thank Lord Kusanali for smiling down upon their humble little family and their darling little daughter by sending such a divine man your way. 

You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy, but you know loving him became as simple as breathing. You never thought about it. Never learned to do it. Never questioned it, even. You inhale the scent of his spicy, woody cologne and exhale the warm breath of your affections stored in your lungs. He lives somewhere nestled so deep in your ribcage that you think you’d have to crack each of them one after the other before you could pry him out.

You love Alhaitham. You think you know everything there is to know about loving him. You think you’d do it right—better than anyone else. 

He only drinks his coffee when it’s piping hot, and his wine can never be one degree less than iced. He has dry hands, but he hates the feeling of lotion. He doesn’t like raw onions but he doesn’t mind them cooked. When the sun is in his eyes, he’s in a foul mood, but he enjoys napping under the warm rays, much like a cat. He laughs surprisingly boyishly from his belly if you manage to deliver a dry yet clever enough joke, and he clears his throat and gets a bit shy once he’s realized he’s let it out. He twirls his pen in his hand when he’s bored, and he only uses the kind with gel ink because they write smoother. 

You love Alhaitham. For you, it’s always been him. 

When you wake up to his bare, warm body next to yours, breathing peacefully with an arm thrown over your waist, you can’t help but selfishly wish he’d stay asleep all day. Just for a day. Just for the amount of time you get in between the sun’s departure and the moon’s arrival. Just so you can watch him exist in this moment where it’s you, him, and the liminal space between friends and lovers. Just so you can admire how beautiful he is without worrying about his eyes opening and the inevitable conversation of what you’re both doing is brought up. 

People (like Kaveh, or Dehya, or Tighnari, or…anyone) tend to insist that Alhaitham loves you. It’s obvious, they say, just as obvious as your love for him. You never believe it. It’s not because he’s bad at love or because you’re bad for him. You think he’d make a good lover—contrary to popular belief, you don’t think Alhaitham is uninterested in intimacy or affection. And you think you’d make a good girlfriend—unlike other people, you understand him and like what you see. 

But he doesn’t love you. That much is a fact you’ve long accepted. It’s not because you’re bad for him or because he’s incapable of feeling—but rather, it’s just that bitter, soul-crushing reality that you can’t help who you love and who you don’t. Alhaitham doesn’t love you—it’s not something either of you can really change. Because if he did, he’d waste no time. He’d get to the heart of the matter and quit dancing around the issue. 

It’s just the kind of guy that he is. 

So, because this is your first and likely last time seeing him this way, you slowly reach over and brush a few strands of messy, unruly bedhead from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and warm under your palm, much more delicate to the touch than you anticipated from how chiseled his features are. Your thumb gently brushes along the slant of his cheekbone, eyes softening at how he lets out a puff of air as he sleeps. 

“Morning,” he says hoarsely, eyes still closed and making you jolt in surprise. He lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle that would make you melt if not for the way your heart still pounds from the shock. 

“You’re awake?”

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding before finally cracking an eye open. “For a while now.”

“Why pretend to sleep then, you creep?” You scoff, glaring at him as he sits up slightly and glances at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. No part of him seems to be shocked about you being nude in his bed. Or the fact that you’re even in his bed at all, nude or not. 

“You’re the creep if we’re being technical here. It’s undoubtedly a little on the creepy side to study someone with such careful touches while they sleep.”

“That’s your main concern…?” You stare at him—and for lack of better words, you’re dumbfounded. You and Alhaitham have been friends for two years and counting. You’ve never once crossed the line or even toed at it to step beyond the border of anything more. And, yet, here you are. In his bed. Completely nude. He was lying there and felt your delicate touch along his skin, felt you act like a lover and not a friend on a quiet, intimate morning when in fact, you both should be shamefully avoiding each other’s eyes in a moment that’s anything but intimate as you leave. 

He makes no move to ask you to leave or even question why you’re still here. You make no move to really leave—it’s not like you want to. 

“What should my main concern be, then?” he looks at you expectantly, like he really doesn’t know.

“Oh, I don’t know, Alhaitham—shouldn’t you be a little more panicked by the idea that I’ve trespassed into your bed and seen you…bare?”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t trespass. I let you in—and also, to be fair, I saw the same for you, too, so we’re even.”

“You’re oddly calm about this,” you hiss. “This doesn’t bother you even a little? That things might change?”

He looks at you funny—like you’ve just told him a joke that hardly makes sense but makes him want to laugh anyway. “You’re too brilliant to be this dense,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m quite open to the idea of change.”

You take offense to the first part enough to completely miss the second part of his statement. 

“I am not dense,” you huff, “I’m incredibly bright. I’ll have to send you my thesis sometime.”

“No need,” he responds through a low hum. He pulls you closer, flush against his chest. Bare skin on skin. Intimate skin, at that. You shiver for a moment as his warm, large hand wanders lower and lower before stopping just at the small of your back, rubbing slow circles at the dimple where your spine ends. “I’ve read it plenty of times. It was very insightful.”

“Well, in that case, you should know not to insult my intelligence—”

“If you don’t notice my affection for you, I’m afraid you might not be as observant as I initially thought.”

You pause. Your heart flutters. Then it feels like it decays. Your eyes widen a fraction. Then they feel like they need to be squeezed shut for fear of tears. You feel your fingers twitch to reach for him. And yet they stiffen in distrust. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. Because you don’t.

You really fucking don’t. You thought you knew. His feelings and how to read them. His thoughts and how his mind works. Every little quirk of his and how he approaches every damn thing in this world. You thought you knew.

Now you feel like you don’t know much of anything, especially not what he means right in this moment. 

“You don’t?” He whispers, hand moving to grab your wrist and bring it to his cheek so his lips can brush along the delicate lines of your palm prints. (If he was brave, he’d tell you that his destiny and yours are written in those very lines. Maybe someday he’ll build the courage.)

“No,” you say through a shaky whisper. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you. Just like you love me.” He says it so plainly, that you almost feel like it's a dry, cruel joke. (You know him a little better than that, though, to know he’d never.)

“How do you know I love you?” you challenge just because it’s all you have left to cling to—easy, instant denial. 

He laughs. Soft. Quiet. Melodic. So fucking sweet. “I’m too smart to act dense,” Alhaitham teases. And then, for a moment, his eyes soften enough that they almost look vulnerable. “And only someone who loves me could deal with my… peculiarities. Though, I will admit, it took me quite a while to reach this conclusion. You made me work for it.”

“If you’ve known all along—” 

“Not all along,” he corrects, “like I said, it took me a while to come to this conclusion. But once I did, it was rather obvious.”

You scowl with a finger prodding into his chest, eyes misty with relief and the faintest traces of agitation, “Well, regardless, why haven’t you said something all this time? Obviously, I wasn’t as aware as you seem to be, so the least you could have done is spared me the pining and heartbreak of wondering if you’d ever look at me—”

“I wanted to make sure I could offer you a peaceful life first,” he says gently. You blink. He smiles, eyeing something in the distance—you don’t quite catch it, but you think it might be the old, worn-out stack of envelopes sitting on his desk. 

“What?”

“When you’re with me,” he whispers, leaning in so that his lips brush over yours, “I can lead a peaceful life. I wanted to make sure I could give you the same.”

“And what does that consist of?” you raise a brow. 

“Well,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth, “A stable job with a generous income, which I now have. A fixed schedule, which I have also negotiated. A proper home to house the both of us, which you are comfortably laying in. And…” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart is beating erratically, “A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on, which I have dedicatedly worked to add to my physique for you.”

“Haitham!” you squeal, shoving him away with a horrified shriek as he laughs with a wide grin. You don’t even know why he still remembers that comment to poke fun at it, but you suppose that is the tragedy of falling for a prodigious scholar. His mind is sharp. And so is his memory. “Enough!”

“Okay, okay,” he grins smugly. “I want us to lead a peaceful life.”

“There’s not a lot of peace I am counting on with you.”

“I will elect to ignore that statement,” he says dryly, “But that’s why I waited this long,” he buries his face into your neck, nose pressing into the skin as he inhales, “I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer, though. Won’t you accept my frugal attempt at a serene life with you?”

“Perhaps I can make do,” you fight back a stupid grin.

He smiles into your neck. You can feel it. You can practically see it. You hope you’ll grow old with it, too. 

“Then I suppose I’m forever indebted to your graciousness, my love.”

────────────────────────

TWENTY FOUR.

When Alhaitham was eight, Grandmother told him the story of how his parents had fallen in love. It was a typical love story, he thought at the time—nothing overly special or unique. A simple, sweet bond between two people who became friends and something more along the way.

What stood out were the letters. Not very much at first, but with time, he’d realized how special they were. 

Grandmother handed him the letters with a soft, melancholy look in her eyes that made him realize he hadn’t just lost his father and mother. She had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Alhaitham felt the absence of his parents often. It was hard not to at that age—he didn’t have a father to throw a ball to or tag along with to the market. He didn’t have a mother to hum him a melody or make his favorite dish for dinner. But Grandmother filled the gaps in those places well enough that even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled between the cracks.

But he was no son. Not a proper one for her at her age, anyway. She raised him like he was her own, but she grew older every day, and he didn’t grow fast enough to keep up. He couldn’t take care of her in her old age the way his father would have. He couldn’t do much besides bring the vegetables for her to cut or set the table while she cooked. He couldn’t offer her the mora when she went to the market or carry too many of the heavy bags while they walked home. He couldn’t let her rest in her old age too much because, regardless of how mature and bright he was for his age, Alhaitham was just a child. Her child, nonetheless—Grandmother didn’t let him forget that fact. But a child.

When she died, he arranged the funeral alone. He didn’t cry throughout the whole ordeal. Her old colleagues from way back in her Akademiya days came, as did some of his parents’ old acquaintances. No one he knew too familiarly, though—no one who really mattered when they clasped his shoulder and told him to hang in there.

She was a good woman. He knew that already.

She was very intelligent. A very obvious fact.

She was exceptionally kind. A rather unsurprising observation.

She loved very deeply. Well. That one stung—as true as it might have been.

He remembers it so vividly still. How he had walked home alone after it all. How he had taken off his tie (a very poorly tied tie, at that—Grandmother had always helped him before) and silently entered his room.

It wasn’t until he had eyed his desk that finally, it all sank in. The notes—the ones his father had so carefully written his mother while they were still just starting to fall in love, sat there as if waiting for him. He read them one by one, just like he had so many times before. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until a rivulet of his sorrow landed from his cheek to the page, staining the paper a darker shade of heartache. 

Alone. 

That’s all Alhaitham had ever been since the tender age of four. At least, that’s what people had always thought—but he’d never felt the sorrow people tended to feel for him. Not having a father and mother was okay. Hard at times, but okay. Grandmother had been everything he needed. More than what he needed, in fact. 

Grandmother was everything. And she had left him just the same way his parents had. He’d cried that night—alone in a house that was nothing more than just a house. Not a home, not a place where he could return to and look forward to it. Not a place where love was waiting for him to shelter him as soon as he came back from the cruel, outside world.

Grandmother was gone. Mother and father had left so long ago. But they all had each other—in whatever world they’d crossed to, they’d had each other. 

He remembers it all so vividly still. How he’d read his father’s words, and for the first time in all his life, he’d craved it. What his parents had. 

To my love, my soul, my heart. I am yours, always. 

He wondered that night, through teary and blurry eyes, if love like that would ever find him. If he’d one day be able to call someone his love, soul, and heart.

He thinks now, as you laugh with your head tilted forward and a tweezer in hand while sitting on his lap, that he can. 

“Hold still, you,” comes your teasing remark, “you said this would be nothing. Now look at you.”

“You’re being too harsh,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. With a smile, you bend your neck down and press a soft kiss to his jutted lips, humming before pressing an extra one to the corner of his mouth for good measure. (And yes, the grand sage—acting, you can almost hear him correct in your own head—can pout. He is rather frequent at curling those lips of his in your presence when he wants something, in fact. Or when he is teased too much. Something about you brings about a side of him that is much less stoic and far more dramatized.)

“You can just admit it hurts, you know,” you say through an amused snort.

“It won’t hurt if you just do it right.”

“I’m an expert at tweezing eyebrows,” you huff, “I do mine all the time. And I would know that it hurts.”

“It can’t be that painful,” he clicks his teeth, “just be gentle.”

“I cannot gently pull out a hair from your follicle, Haitham—I don’t know what you want me to—hey!”

He grabs the tweezers from your hand and pulls you close, hugging you tight enough that his nose digs into your skin a bit as he buries it into your neck. It’s Saturday. His first out of two days off for the week—standard scribe work weeks are nine to five on weekdays, and he very much appreciates his weekends away from the bustling, lively Akademiya nonsense. 

Saturday happens to be your day off, too. 

“Where is Kaveh?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. He raises a brow, eyeing the suspicious movement of your fingers.

“Working with a client in Aaru Village. He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. Why am I not enough company for you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” you roll your eyes, and this time, your hands wander under his shirt, palms slowly dragging along his chiseled, planed abdomen while he shivers slightly under your touch. “I was just asking if…”

“If…?” he urges you to continue.

You know he knows. But, for the sake of indulging his smug, teasing little game, you huff and push his shirt up to expose his chest before murmuring, “If we would be interrupted or not. I don’t fancy such awkward run-ins with your roommate.”

“Our roommate,” he corrects, “this is your home, too.”

“Yes,” you smile, brushing your palms over his pectorals, watching as he stiffens when you graze along his nipples, “I suppose it is.”

“Well, he’s not here. And he won’t be, so kiss me,” he demands through a breathy whisper. You do. You kiss him instantly—because kissing Alhaitham is what you do best. When he’s happy, sad, angry, distressed, or just plain tired, kissing him is how you know him the most. When your breaths exchange and your life force and his mingle to become one, singular unit. 

You sigh into his mouth, letting his hands cradle your jaw and tilt your head to better meet his mouth, all while your hands still explore his upper half. He moans under your touch, cock springing to life slowly below you through his pants. You angle your hips forward, inching higher up his lap to drag your crotch along his and help the erection grow against the friction. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, hard and heavy between his legs in no time. 

“Haitham,” you breathe, feeling that familiar ache build between your own thighs. 

You kiss him like that for a bit. Messy, deep, sloppy, and so, so slow. With all the time in the world. Languid strokes of your tongue against his as he rolls his hips up from underneath you, dragging his clothed, bulging cock against your dripping cunt. The fabric separates you, rudely so, and it’s not long until you both grow tired of it. 

“Off,” you whine, tugging at his pants, “off, off, off!”

“So demanding,” he chuckles, pecking your nose sweetly before he lifts his hips, letting you slide off his sweatpants. “Satisfied?” 

“Yes,” you beam, “You always give me what I want. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

His gaze darkens at that—not for any other reason than it makes him so incredibly filled with lust when you speak to him like that. So spoiled and happy about it because it’s him. Him. You’re happy that it’s him. And he’s happy that it’s you. 

You don’t even bother undressing yourselves fully—he pulls down your own pants just enough to expose your pretty, leaking folds, and his hands wander under your shirt, where he almost short-circuits for a moment. Braless. Because you just love to drive him mad, he thinks. This much easy access to your soft, delicate breasts and the pert nipples that decorate them is enough to make him curse under his breath as his thumbs tease over them. 

“You’re a tease.”

“For simply existing?” you gasp, making him crack a small grin. 

“Yes,” he hums, “Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.”

You hum, reaching forward to gently take his hard, leaking cock into your hand and give a light, teasing squeeze. “Maybe my goal is to turn you completely into a lost cause.”

“Then,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions while he breathes harshly, “then you’re definitely succeeding. Is that what you wished to hear?”

“Yes,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, “It is, actually.”

It doesn’t take long at all before Alhaitham has tossed you back against the couch, laughing as you shriek at the sudden change of position. You glare at him, fighting back your own chorus of giggles as he moves to hover over you, kissing and biting playfully along your cheeks. 

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“Aw, so sweet,” you coo, “say that again.”

He rolls his eyes. His lips curl into the brightest grin at the same time. My love, my soul, my heart—the words are ingrained in his memory always. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whisper.

He leans in for a soft, slow kiss as the tip of his leaking cock slides against your folds, tapping against your clit before rubbing along your entrance. You gasp, shuddering against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 

“You know,” he murmurs, “I could get used to this.”

“Sex on the couch? We can do that any time—”

“A weekend with just the two of us,” he groans, dropping his head to your neck as you laugh loudly. Bright. Airy. A sound the wind carries to him in his subconscious. He hears you even when you’re not there—even when you aren’t around, he searches for you. 

“Oh,” you say playfully, “Yeah, I guess that’s nice too, isn’t it?”

“I’ll show you just how nice it’s about to be,” he hums. The tip of his thick, blunt head is pressed against your folds—you’re leaking just as much as he is. You slick, and his pre cum mix for a messy collision of arousal as he presses into you slowly, so carefully, you feel like you could break at any second with how he handles you. 

He’s patient. When Alhaitham fucks you, he’s patient enough that you feel like his other half and not his means of pleasure. Like he fucks you for you and not for himself. 

“More,” you insist, impatient as you add, “I can take it.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he clicks his teeth, “I want to take my time feeling you.”

And he does. He rolls his hips slowly. So slowly, you feel delirious. It’s a painful, gradual build-up of pleasure that has you trying to roll your hips into him to meet him halfway, a pathetic attempt when he’s on top of you to press his weight down on you to keep you in place. 

“Please, Haitham,” you whine, sweat shining across your sweet, pleasure-hazed face as he stares down at you, “Please more. I need it—need you. Need all of you.”

“You have all of me,” he groans, feeling the tight walls of your cunt squeeze around him, the squelching noise of his thick girth bullying into your folds in and out, in and out, in and out, driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’ve always had every piece of me.”

“I want more,” you hiss. 

He lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a soft moan. “If that’s what you want.”

The next thing you know, two strong, muscled arms are grabbing your thighs and bringing them around his torso to wrap around him, and his large hands grab your hips and pull, practically manhandling you deeper onto his cock. You shudder, letting out a shrill, high-pitched gasp as he intrudes further into your cunt, nudging the head of his cock against your sweetest of spots and making your body tremble. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, “Haitham, fuck—fuck, you feel so good. So deep—love when you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing in between your pretty little scrunched-up eyebrows, “I love fucking you like this, too. When you take me so well, squeeze so tight, and let me feel you like the good girl you are.”

His words make your folds squeeze around him, and fuck—he’s close. So fucking close, the pad of his rough, callused thumb meets your clit as he rubs circles, trying to bring you to the edge before he goes plummeting himself. 

“‘M close—almost…almost there,” you pant.

“Me too, baby,” he groans. He slams into you, skin slapping against skin and the glistening sheen of it mixing your sweat together. His mouth parts with pretty, low sounds of his pleasure, and your face twists with the devastating rush of yours. 

Once. Twice. A third time, and you fall apart as he thrusts into you and presses the tip of his thick length against the spongey spot in the back of your walls. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, legs tightening around him as your nails press crescent shapes into his back. “Fuck, I’m c-cumming…oh, Gods.”

“Good,” he gasps, and with one last roll of his desperate hips, he spills into you, too. A thick, sticky, familiar rush of heat fills your cunt, ropes of cum painting you white within with every twitch of his aching cock. “Fuck—you feel so good. So perfect—you were made for me. Me.”

“You,” you whisper, breathless. 

You let him shudder over you, fingers running through his hair as he finishes releasing his load into you before he slumps his weight over your body. It’s a small couch—decorative more than functional. (All thanks to Kaveh, of course.) But you don’t particularly care when you’re under him. It feels right all the same. 

“We have the house to ourselves this weekend,” he reminds you after some time of catching your breaths. “So…so we can do this all you want.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you poke his forehead. “You’re obscene.”

“I’m romantic,” he corrects, “I just want to be with you and nothing else. Can’t blame a man when he’s been gifted such a beautiful sight before him.”

“And cheesy, too,” you huff. 

He smiles. My love, my soul, my heart. 

——————————

You wake up Monday morning to Alhaitham already gone—it’s rare that he’s ever up before you. He leaves the house just in time to make it to work exactly on the dot and not a moment sooner or a moment later. But, as is with any Akademiya position, there are quarterly meetings that even the scribe can’t avoid. You giggle at the image in your head of a grumpy Alhaitham carefully tiptoeing around the room as he miserably gets ready for an early morning of extra work, all while making sure he doesn’t wake you. 

You yawn, sitting up to start your morning for your own day of work ahead—but it catches your eye before you can fully rise from bed, making you pause. 

A note? No, you realize almost instantly. Not just a note—a letter:

To my love, my soul, my heart: Kalpalata lotuses will bloom soon. I forget how beautiful the world is sometimes, and I suppose it’s because I am always distracted by your beauty alone. Will you laugh as you read this? I suppose you might because even I must admit, it is a rather cliche thing to say. I can just picture your smile now, and I am certain I will have it memorized until my last breath. It’s easy to remember it so well when it’s all I see in my dreams. Have I told you how often I see you in them? It’s difficult to think that there was once a time in Sumeru when we did not dream. It seems like sleeping beside your body is no longer enough—your presence is required even in my slumber for me to truly be at peace.  Perhaps when the lotuses bloom, we can take a trip to the deeper parts of the rainforest to catch a glimpse of a few. They say the vines are blessed by The Lord herself. I was never one to seek out the divine, but perhaps with a gift as sacred as you, I should take the time to thank Lady Kusanali for granting such brilliance to take bloom in my presence. Only, the difference is that here with you, there are no cliffs to climb or seasons to await. You are mine to bloom, always—my precious, beautiful lotus.  Forever yours,  Haitham ♡

ITS DONE. HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY FIRST AND LONGEST LOVE. YOU MEAN EVERYTHING AND MORE TO MEEEEE

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 5 - what are people's first impressions of you ?

masterlist / ko-fi

my last post : your 2025 main lesson and themes.

Pile 1

10 of cups, King of Swords, 9 of Wands, 7 of Swords, 4 of Wands, The Sun, The Lovers, Death

Mischevious, Cunning, Manipulative in a flirtatious way ??, flirtatious, funny, Victorious, Happy, Fun to be around, Doesn’t take responsibility for things, Playful, Too unserious, Hot and sexy, Hot n Fun, Short n Sweet, Wet n Wild, If you’re a woman, people might think you easily get super wet (what is wrong with people respectfully 💀), Femme fatale/fboy boy, You look like trouble pile 1 not gonna lie lmaoo, Too hot to handle, People assume you’re a cheater or just kind of sneaky but all of that dark energy comes out somehow really playful ?? At first glance you exude strong Gemini and Aries energies  : kind of childish and playful, really “oopsie daisy”. They’re impression is that you’re the type of person that plays dumb when you get called out for your misbehavior. People might think you are commitment phobic, A player but people don't even mind to be heartbroken if it's you : “I don’t care if I get played by them tbh” people lowkey want to get heartbroken by you (people are crazy 🤡) 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re a firecracker. Pile 1 I keep on seeing Maddy from Euphoria and Megan Thee Stallion’s Realer era, Pimpin is a song that plays in the background when you’re walking in the street lmaoo You look like you're always in a badass edit

I am hearing the lyrics “she bad mix the ratchet with the classy ooh so bad i just couldn’t let her past me no i told her “shawty, you so right but you so wrong”. Pile 1, you definitely got that aaah (reference to that one tiktok sound of She Knows - Ne-yo feat Juicy J and T pain). You literally make people do double takes on you.

People directly assume if you came into their life, you would ruin them but they would consent to their own self destruction because of how hot you are.

People's first impressions of you is that you’re a master manipulator, but not a horrible one that genuinely leaves others traumatized forever. You’re flirty, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not, but it's mostly people's delusions and projections that hurt them more than anything. They just assume things when you never meant anything, and honestly I don't even think you give people mixed signals. People mix them up by themselves. Like you smile at them just out of politeness and people are like “ damn they're into me or what ?!” What kind of people are around you Pile 1 ? Never met this level of delusion in my life 😭☠️

Something extremely strange about those impressions is that I don’t think people think you’re toxic ?? Which is a bit weird because I have been only describing manipulative behaviors… Pile 1, your energy is really complex to grasp and it stirs intense and contradictory reactions inside people when they first meet you.

I am getting people make a lot of assumptions about you because it’s not just first impressions. People project a lot on you, probably because you are really attractive and people seem to not be able to think a hot and sexy person can be a good and kind hearted person ??? These people are projecting hard literally

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a really sunny person, a really bright and happy go lucky person. 

They also instantly get that you probably got a lot of suitors and people at your feet, waiting for their chance with you. 

When they talk to you, I feel like people get really insecure and they instantly start to compare your life (i mean the 1000 assumptions of what your life is like that they created in their heads on the spot...) and compare it to their own lives. They compare your eloquence, your energy, your aura, the energy and the vibes you exude with their lack of charisma and presence. I don’t know if you’re around a lot of insecure people but be careful, some of them are secretly waiting for your downfall because of how jealous they are of you.

The type of people that are jealous of you instantly when they first see you are generally the same gender as you. If you’re a man, they compare for example how healthy your hair are, how women are easily attracted to you and follow you everywhere you go . Not going to lie it’s giving Chad VS Nice guy/ Incel kind of dynamic. Like they're internal dialogue would probably something like : “ Nice guys finish last anyways… I am sure he treats girls bad and is a player and girls still love him…It's so fucking unfair.” (such a low vibrational energy yikes 🤢). If you’re a girl, they compare your body, your smile, your makeup and how your outfits fit you perfectly , how their own crushes seem to like you more than them YET you don’t even pay mind to them (the jealous people’s crushes) lol 

Pile 1, I would advise you to be extra protective of yourself and your energy. Your spirit irritates a lot of people’s demons.

I find it interesting because this pile is heavy on gender dynamics, power of attraction,... Most of you here are probably straight, or bisexual at least. I don’t see much queer action going on. You also have a really young and fresh energy so you are probably in your 20s.

You incite a lot of hate, jealousy and envy from the same gender. And you incite a lot of obsession, desire and admiration from the opposite. You incite so much jealousy just by your presence, and it happens almost systematically and starts right when people meet you for the first time. I feel like you might have lilith somewhere prominent in your chart, first house, harshly aspected with your ascendant, also Neptune dominance.

People look at you and they instantly think to themselves “this person should star in a movie, what are they doing working in at the local Walmart ??” or “they should be in the cover of vogue. Why are they in college ? They're too hot to be sitting in a classroom all day ?!!” 

Something I am getting from all this channeling is that people's first impressions of you are generally extreme, and mostly false 💀 Different people have different assumptions about you, but everyone seem to agree that you first come across as a heartbreaker and a player. Basically pile 1, you look like trouble at first glance.

The quote I got for you is a beautiful one from Carl Jung : “People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls”

MUSIC : Pimpin by Megan Thee Stallion / Ne-yo feat Juicy J, T-pain - She Knows (Remix) 2014

Pile 2

Ace of Wands Rx, 5 of Wands, 4 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 2 of Swords, 8 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re really closed off and standoffish. Really protective over your energy, your time and your space. You appear somehow aggressively defensive, really “get out of my way bitch” type of energy. 

People’s first impressions are that you’re holding on to a lot of pain and hurt which, in result, makes you really hostile. People can see at first glance that you have been through a lot of negative experiences in life, which made you in return cold and distant. 

Pile 2, you give the energy of a black cat, and you hiss at any person trying to approach you too closely. You really have that lone cat energy.

You have the vibes of someone that bites back. I am hearing the audio “Get your fucking dog bitch!! “ / “It don’t bite.” / ‘YES IT DO !!!”. People think you will jump on them at any given moment if they say something that you don’t like,...lol

When they first meet you, people try to be really careful with their words because they are scared that if they say something wrong, they will cross you. If you’re with a group or someone else when people first meet you, they will avoid, out of fear, to directly engage with you, and will observe how your friends or the people that are with you handle you so they can do the same. 

Pile 2, people’s first impressions of you is that you are scary as hell lmaoo

You give people the impression that you’re judging them in a way. You might unintentionally side eye people a lot. You make people uncomfortable with your standoffish attitude. 

Now, this pile is divided in two sub-types : 

you are perceived exactly like what I described above : really bitchy vibes, no bullshit energy. You’re protective of your energy because you have a lot of self-respect and don’t want people to disrespect the way some did to you in the past. 

The second type, you are like this not really because of self-respect but because there is an underlying insecurity, something particularly broken inside of you. It feels almost like you put up this front of confidence and assertiveness and people usually can see right through it. If you’re faking it until making it a lot of people upon their first impressions pick up on that. 

These two sub-types can be blended too, like you could be both at the same time or perceived as both at the same time. (I don’t know if this makes sense )

People’s first impressions of you is that you are really authoritative and controlling. You probably have a really tight schedule that you don’t like to change for anyone. You look like you don’t like to compromise or work in groups. Their first impressions of you are also that you don’t really like change, you don’t like incompetency, and that you have a really good skincare routine (??random as hell lmaoo). 

People think you eat healthy boring food, like bland porridge for breakfast and a bland salad with almost no seasoning, that you snack on overtly expensive cereal and protein bars that taste like grass (people are really funny i swear this is so hyper specific)

I think their first impressions get them to make a few assumptions on you for a few minutes, but then they move on with their lives like “well i don’t know good for them” or “let them be”. People don’t want to get too carried away in the impressions they have of you and the assumptions they make from it because they don’t want to disturb your peace. Like you have an energetic protection that gives them a limited amount of time to ponder on who you might be. Like I am seeing a system almost like the one in Inside out, a little creature, a fairy or a guardian angel, coming into the person’s mind and starting the timer the moment they stare at you or interact with you for the first time with their foot tapping on the floor and their eyebrows frowned, looking over their watch each second ticking with growing impatience. People feel like they have to go through tests to be allowed to think of you deliberately. 

Pile 2, you have really protective guardian angels damn ! They tolerate no bullshit congrats!!

QUOTE : healed people hear differently

SONGS : Focus - Saweetie / Plan B - Megan thee Stallion / Here - Alessia Cara

Pile 3

King of pentacles, The Star, 7 of swords, 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, 10 of Wands, 5 of Cups, Death

When I first started shuffling for your pile, High Maintenance of Saweetie started playing. Pile 3, you’re standing on business ! It was especially this lyric that stood out to me : 

“See I'ma rider but nah I ain't a die

'Cause I wouldn't take a bullet for a n***a, that's a lie”

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a workaholic with all your life figured out. You have a clear path of where your life will take you. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re extremely busy and productive, but, despite that, you are not a robot that does things mindlessly and repetitively. No, you are your own unique person, you have a clear and  higher vision, you seem like a complex individual with a mind of your own.

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a complex individual, with many layers. Instantly, people want to get to know you and get closer to you. They want to know your backstory, and what led you to be so passionate about everything you do today. They want to know how you seem to manage everything in your life so gracefully. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a deep soul that learned to make peace with the lighter side of life. You know when to let go and have fun, and when to cling onto things and be serious about things. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re beautiful, I am even hearing “striking”. 

People perceive your beauty as being ethereal. It’s not an instagram model type of pretty or handsome, it’s more sophisticated, it’s unique, it is just “you”. 

Maybe a lot of you are not conventionally attractive, you have a particular physical trait, something that makes you stand out instantly. It usually disturbs people a bit when they first meet you like “Oh!...”. I don’t know if you get what I am trying to say lol It is like you’re a woman with really thick and black body hair, but, instead of hiding them or shaving them, you just let them be there. You don’t really care much whether people see them or not. It could also be that you have back acne, and this does not stop you from wearing tank tops or just let them be visible. You don’t try to make a bold statement by doing this, because you’re just like “It’s natural what can I do about this ? It is what it is.” . People immediately pick up on this type of mentality from you. People want you to teach them how to do it. I am hearing “Teach me your ways master” lol . You seem really wise and you know how to not take everything personally. Really an old soul. 

Back to the physical trait thing (because I think people scrutinize your face a lot when they first meet you), you might have a roman nose, or you might look really “ethnic” or “exotic” to people. Maybe you’re a POC in a predominantly white environment, or you just look quite different from your peers.

-> Ok guys, I am picking up on something INSANE. People who would usually bully others for that physical trait you have, sense your strong self-respect and energy and are instantly subconsciously afraid to make fun of you or to try to belittle you. This is actually so fucked up what… I don’t know what is going on in this entire reading but a lot of low vibrational energies were channeled. Anyways. I feel like you grew up being the weird kid that grew into your features and personality, and now, retired high school bullies (not the one that bullied you, if it happened, just general retired high school bullies) lowkey sense they would have bullied you in the past if you were in the same class as them but now can’t do it because it’s lame and not socially acceptable for adults to do shit like that.

People are kind of scared to sit in your energy for too long when they first meet you and have their impressions about you because they feel like their energies are not high vibrational enough for them to be allowed to sit in your powerful energy for too long ?? Lol You intimidate people a lot but they don’t know why, they just feel the urge to shut the f up in your presence and just bathe in your energy silently ?? Weird 

Okay Pile 3, keep it up , never let people dim your light ! Your soul has a powerful pure essence that will  take you far in life.

QUOTE : My soul has traveled long and far to find yours

SONGS : Froot - MARINA / High Maintenance - Saweetie / Icy - ITZY

[my-smial]

tag quoting myself because now I've been thinking about Avatar 2 The Way of Water all day and actually I am more mad.

#Yeah agree with mornyavie#Avatar 2 The way of water is very bad#I wish they had used their tech to make a 4 hour fake nature documentary instead#The only good parts were the sweeping setting shots but as said you could barely enjoy those because#For a movie theoretically about the evil colonizer ripping up wildlife it's also so weirdly colonial#It hits all the worst elements of the modern sequel boom#The plot is Plot 2: Plottier Morier#It pulls a Somehow Palpatine Returned *twice*#Once via weird Jesusy virgin birth!#Kills characters in a way that feels bad#Jake the protagonist is made a pretty crap dad in ways where I am sometimes unclear the story notices he's being controlling#And top it off there's ANOTHER plotline of a kid being kidnapped by his abusive father but the narrative *really* wants you to accept that#They will just naturally love each other if only given the chance#It sucks!

Literally, there are probably just two things anyone knows about Avatar I. 1. the visuals are pretty good. 2. If you are at all plugged in to movie criticism, then you've seen a discussion of how the surface-level environmentalist and anti-colonialist messages are hamstrung by still centering a white man and by the Alien Pocahontas aesthetics. We have firmly established that if you would like to make anti-colonialism land, you should be direct. Or at least put much more work into your metaphors.

So TEN ENTIRE YEARS of this discussion later, the team behind Avatar II has the opportunity to engage more deeply with its own themes, and even, with movie 1 ending with humans jettisoned back to Earth, the prime opportunity to write a powerful story involving no humans at all.

NOPE. they apparently did no thinking at all about the one thing anyone can say to critique their movie and instead they brought the humans back for another half-baked attempt at making a statement! These movies have SO MUCH WORK put into them, the visuals and worldbuilding and language, and it's all wasted by being the fluff setting for the world's worst and most confused storyline. I am offended on behalf of everyone who got to work on it.

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

[hansoleil]

★ ˙ ̟ ─── . “chris”.

— chan × reader. — 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smut. — 𝘄. 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2217. — 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: afab reader, unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, daddy kink, degradation & inappropriate language. — 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: i love me an obsessed ex-boyfie [🍽]

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. you can't get over chris.

The studio door unlocked with an electronic noise. You didn't make a fuss about entering — it wasn't your first time there, and it probably wouldn't be your last.

"Took you long enough.", he mumbled without bothering to turn around.

"There was too much traffic," you threw your bag on the couch behind him, sitting there right away. The sound of the keyboard echoed in the room for a few more minutes, as if it was inside your head. There was no room for shame, you'd been in this position more times than you'd like to admit.

The chair finally turned around, letting you see the man for the first time that week. Okay. Maybe there was room to feel ashamed. You followed his eyes scanning your body from head to toe, lingering on your legs that were barely covered by the short dress you were wearing — it used to be his favorite, you didn't expect a different reaction.

"So? What have I done to deserve the honor of your presence?", the sweet tone dripped with sarcasm, as if the cynical smile wasn't already a great indicator.

"Cut it, Christopher.", you weren't in the mood to entertain his jokes today. His shameless laughter made you question whether being there was really a good idea, but unfortunately, you needed him.

"Oh, you mad, princess? No need to stress. I'll fix your issue right now." he pressed his tongue against his cheek, smiling mischievously — he was always a tease. He spread his legs even wider, settling himself in the chair. Chan looked at you as if he expected something from you, smiling when he noticed your shyness. "Are you gonna just sit there? We both know why you're here." conceited, he said as if it was obvious (and it really was). You stood up, feeling even more embarrassed, but didn't exactly know why — Chris knew how to make you shy, even after so long. "Take off your panties while you're at it." You gave the man an offended look, as if he had insulted you. "What? You wanna get fucked, don't you?" the man let out a chuckle. You reluctantly took off your panties, there's no arguing with facts, and sat on his lap right after.

Your body and mind felt like two different entities that didn't have the same goal. There was a voice in your head telling you how wrong that was, but you could barely hear it. At the end of the day, it was Christopher. And, somehow, he was still yours. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. Not with you in his lap.

Grinding against him like a kitten, your nose pressed to his jawline, breathing in his scent. Chris always had a "manly" scent, you couldn't really explain what it was, but it turned you on — and that was the biggest problem when it came to the man: everything about him turned you on and you feared you'd never be able to let him go.

"Why are you so needy, princess? Your little boyfriend can't handle you?", he asked mockingly. His skilled hands lifted your dress so he could knead the soft skin of your ass — he was obsessed with that part of you, squeezing and playing with it whenever he could.

"He's not my boyfriend, Channie. I only went out with him a few times," you justified the fact for the thousandth time in god knows how long. There was no point, you knew Chris would still bring this up in the future.

"So you should stop giving hope to the poor guy. He must think he has a chance with you," he looked at you smugly. Chris was convinced that he was the only man for you — the fact that you had returned to his lap once again only confirmed the theory.

"I like him though...", it was a lie. You said it just to mess with the man's ego, because even if he knew the truth, he would still feel a little threatened.

"Oh, do you?", his voice full of disbelief. "So you're calling him when you want to fuck? Tell me.'", one of his hands grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "What's the point of breaking up with me if you can't get off my dick, hm?", his eyes fixed on yours made your body shiver.

Christopher's pretty lips were all you could pay attention to, trying to get closer, as if they were calling your name. He knew how obsessed you were with his lips — no wonder why you kissed him every five minutes when you were still together. Having that in my mind, you were sure of how merciless his next actions were. Your movements were suddenly stopped, the man's hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place.

"No.", the warning came coldly, but not enough to hide how pleased he seemed with your disappointed expression. "There's no point in making that face either. "No feelings" remember?", he reminded you of the rule you made sure of repeating every time you asked to meet him. "You're the one who wanted it to be like this.", it was painful for him and he wanted it to be for you too. Despite missing your lips as badly as you did, he would deny it, because maybe that would force you to take him back — you both knew he was trying to wear you down, but you were too stubborn.

"Chris, you said that-"

"I said I was going to fuck you, I never said anything about kissing you. You're not my girlfriend, remember that too?", irritated, he interrupted you. It was stressful having to continue with this dynamic just because that's how you wanted it to be. Chris was aware of your reasons, but what was the point of not taking him back if you always ended up at the same place every time? Christopher wasn't able to understand. He had already made a thousand promises in order to change himself, to be better for you... but none of them seemed to convince you. On the other hand, he also wanted to have the courage to get over you and end things for good. However, nothing seemed to overcome how fucking crazy he was about you.

You nodded in defeat, the sadness in your expressions almost making Channie give in. Almost. But he knew just how to fix your disappointed face. The man hurriedly pulled down the straps of your dress, letting the fabric rest below your breasts. Wasting no time, he sucked on them, letting the saliva drip on your skin. Even bitting on them just to feel you pull his hair.

He pulled you by the waist, positioning your body right on top of his cock — the thin fabric of his pants letting you feel almost all of it. He left a slap on your thigh, silently demanding that you start moving — his busy mouth was only able to emit an almost annoyed hum. You grinded down carefully, speeding up as soon as you realized that the position was perfect to stimulate your clit. You could feel him throbbing under you and that was too tempting.

You struggled to get him out of his pants, wanting to feel it closer. Sitting right on top of it when you finally managed to do it, now grinding the wet length against your panties — the movement hitting just right on your swollen clit. You moaned softly, mentally thanking the soundproof walls of the studio.

"Channie.", you knew you could cum like that, but you didn't want to. He finally stopped sucking your tits.

"What do you want now, princess? I'll be good today, I'll even let you choose.", his fingers opening your folds more, making you feel his cock with more intensity. "Want my tongue inside your little pussy?", he rubbed his nose against yours as if he was going to kiss you — it was pure teasing. You shook your head, face frowning, it was pretty obvious what you wanted. "Oh, so you want to get fucked already, sweetheart? Are you that needy?", if you were being honest, that was the only thing on your mind — you didn't even think you needed to get stretched out first. He nodded, your innocent face making Channie smile nastily. "Get on all fours then, princess. I'll give it to you just the way you like it."

[...]

Your nails almost pierced the sofa's fabric, it wasn't your fault though, you needed to take the sensation out on something. You felt him so deep, filling you to the brim, making a mess out of your little hole. In moments like these, you lose all your composure. Swore you could go as far as shamelessly admitting you were fucking addicted to his cock — and you would probably feel pathetic after the high came down, but Chris had the ability to make you act like a bitch in heat. The horniness always spoke louder than you ever could, forcing your body against his, trying to fuck yourself harder. But a sudden slap on your ass made you halt your attempts.

"Can you fucking stay still?." he sounded irritated, your walls tightened almost immediately — a detail that didn't go unnoticed by him. "You know better than move when I'm fucking you. Thought I already taught you that, princess.", his hand tangled in your hair again. He made pressure, forcing you face against the couch. Thrusts getting slower, it was all on purpose — he wanted to punish you little.

"Channie-"

"Shhhhh. Like that, see? Stay still.", he whispered, burying himself deep inside and grinding into your cervix. Chris smiled mischievously when he saw your legs trembling, he loved how dumb you got for cock. You were drenched, slick running down the inside of your thighs. It was good, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to be fucked for real, you needed Chris to break you — the way he always did.

"Daddy, please...", you pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster. Even with your face muffled against the couch, you knew he could hear it. The nickname wasn't used for nothing, you knew very well what it did to Chris — it was one of the man's biggest guilty pleasures, something he only let slip out when he was almost out of his mind.

Your memory full of all the times he had asked you to "let daddy fill your little pussy" when he was right about to cum. There was no better time to take advantage of it — the length spasming inside you only confirming the fact. You heard the man mumble something you couldn't identify, his hand letting go of your hair and gripping your waist tightly. You knew you had won him over. The thrusts increased the pace.

"Fucking slut.", an intoxicated smile decorated his features. Oh, you were so sure you won him over. His calloused hands forced you against his hips as if you were a toy, you whimpered, unable to deal with the change in pace. You felt Chris slap you a few times, he seemed not to be measuring his strength, hitting you without mercy.

"Channie!" you complained, but it was just pretend — you both knew.

"So I'm not "daddy" anymore? Hm? If you want to act like a whore, you gotta learn how to take it.", he sounded groggy. You throbbed, getting wetter — if it was possible. He brought one of his hands to between your legs, desperately playing with your clit. "Daddy's little slut gonna cum? Yeah? You're squeezing me so fucking tight, baby.", your body writhed, unable to handle it.

You were barely able to grasp when you tipped over the edge, your eyes squeezed shut, releasing a few tears in the process. The man didn't stop thrusting. He used your sensitive body, almost as if he couldn't hear the painful way you whimpered beneath him. It was delicious and torturous at the same time.

"Gonna cum inside you, love. Ah! Fuck, l-like that...", he moaned in a daze, not even aware of what he was saying — a clear sign that he was right about to cum. "I fucking love you... you're mine, love. R-right? Mine.", his body trembling, the orgasm taking away any and all signs of sanity for a few seconds. Chris' soft moans made you squeeze tighter, messing with him even more, filling you up until it leaked.

It took a while for your sensitive bodies to calm down.

Chris was now resting on top of your body, holding his own weight to not crush you against the sofa. He stood up suddenly, his presence disappearing for quite some time. Mind still hazy, you felt him turn your body around, opening your legs to clean the mess he made. You were exhausted, usually falling weak like this whenever you two had sex — Channie was the perfect sleeping pill, he always put you to sleep.

A soft blanket was placed on top of your body and your eyes closed almost automatically. You felt a long and soothing kiss on your lips, body lighting up, you couldn't hold back a smile. You missed this so much... you would even feel a little sad if you weren't so tired.

"Good night, love.”

# — © 2025 hansoleil ᯓ★ masterlist.

[sevikaslatinawife]

Soft Sevika Headcannons

Saw someone post they wanted more fluff for Sevika. Here’s my addition because I also believe we need more Sevika fluff.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

ᡣ𐭩 — Forehead kisses.

Won’t ever admit to it but whenever you two are cuddling and you kiss her forehead, she melts. She just grunts and buries her face in your chest or anywhere where you won’t notice her blush.

You notice because even her ears get pink-tinted, but you never say anything. You just kiss the top of her head instead, liking the smell of her hair. This just receives another grunt for her and – maybe you were dreaming – feeling her lips quirk into a soft smile against your skin.

ᡣ𐭩 — Cuddling/Hugging.

She isn’t used to being held, not even something she grew up with, so the first time you hugged her, she felt light. She hugged you back and leaned her chin on your head while she held you. That is, after the initial shock of what was happening wore off.

She felt like she was vibrating and you pointed it out.

“You’re shaking,” you had said in a soft, concerned voice. She simple said, “I'm cold,” which you both knew was a lie. So you just smiled and hugged her tighter.

Whenever you two found yourselves with enough space, mostly a couch – specifically in Silco’s office – she would hug you close and bury her face in your hair or the crook of your neck.

She just takes calming breaths of your scent at your pulse point. She doesn’t think you’re real or with her, so smelling the heat of your skin and the ways it smells distinct, it calms her down.

ᡣ𐭩 — Having her hair played with.

Sevika was kind of taken aback the first time you touched her hair. Not because she didn’t like it, but with the softness that you did it with.

Now, she would lay on your lap and happily close her eyes while you played with her hair. When she had it longer, you’d take the ponytail off and run your fingers through the strands.

But now, she liked how you would rub the shaved part of her haircut with your fingertips. How you push the strands back to get a glimpse of her face because they couldn’t be tucked behind her ears as easily.

ᡣ𐭩 — Praises/Compliments.

The first time you told her she did a good job, was after she was grumbling about making being scolded by Silco – not an error she commited, but being told not to “Dissapoint him again.”

She looked at you like you were stupid but it made her heart race that you would think that of her. You could see the way her eyes shone, how glassy they looked when you said it.

So you kissed her cheek and told her again. “You did a good job, my love. Don't worry, you were wonderful.” You felt how she leaned into you when you cupped her cheek but only slightly. As if she didn't really believe the words you were telling her, like she was on edge you were just trying to soothe her and not really meaning to praise her. “You did do a good job,” You reassure. “You're my strong, wonderful girl.”

And maybe she melted and leaned her face into your hands while pulling you closer. You made sure to always praise her when you had the chance from then on.

ᡣ𐭩 — Your smell. [Curly Girl Edition.]

If you have curly hair and use products that smell a specific way, she buries her nose in your hair or neck where the smell clings to. Since it’s where your curls would brush against your skin and would leave it smelling the strongest.

Once you even caught her clicking the bottle of cream and sniffing it, frowning because it just wasn't the same. It smelt similar to you, but it smelt better on you, on your skin.

You didn't say anything, though, because you knew she'd never admit it, even after being caught.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Wanted it to be longer but couldn't come up with more :'( Please lmk what you think, if you'd like more and any headcannons you'd want me to add!

[pigfartsviatardis]

Important! Treat kids like people! I’m an educator and it’s amazing how receptive kids are to listening to reason and changing their behaviour, or at least trying to, if you pull them aside - instead of embarrassing them in front of their peers - and ask them what the hell’s up instead of just talking at them.

The other day a kid was being rude to his partner that I had paired him with for a task, ignoring her and refusing to do any work. I asked if he was ok, he shrugged and said yes. I told him he needed to contribute and treat his partner with respect, then moved on. Came back a few mins later, nothing had changed. I asked him to come have a word. Pulled him out of earshot of the kids and asked if something was wrong. He said no. I said ok but you are acting like you’re upset or angry. Are you upset or angry? He said no (in an upset and angry way lmao). I asked if his partner was the problem. No. The task? No. Bear in mind this kid was like 12 so it could well have just been hormones. I am not his usual teacher, I don’t know him, so if there was something personal going on for him it’s pretty fair to not want to tell me, a stranger.

At this point I just said look I’m gonna be real with you. You clearly don’t want to talk to me about this and I respect that. But here are the facts. You are in class. You have class work to do and a partner who is currently doing it all by herself when everyone else gets help from a partner. Is that fair? He agreed it’s not fair. I said it’s ok if you’re not feeling great and you can’t give 100%, but you need to at the very least be polite to your partner and try to contribute a little bit to the work. I said if I saw him doing that bare minimum then we can all get on with our day, but if I saw him continue to ignore and do nothing then he was going to have to stay in at break time to make up for his partners wasted time. Asked if he understood. Got a nod and a shrug, good enough.

Literally a minute later he was talking to his partner and suggesting something for their task. A few minutes after that they were laughing and chatting. Didn’t have any issues with him for the rest of the day.

Back when I was a less experienced teacher I used to come down hard on kids who were being disrespectful, mostly because I was trying to be ‘an authority figure’ or whatever. I would have been more likely to scold that kid in front of his partner and his peers, give him an ultimatum, or taken his moodiness as rudeness against me personally. I don’t recall getting great results with any of that crap. He probably would have ended up staying in and ruining both our break times. Kids are just normal people and how many people do you know who react well to being humiliated, talked down to, or punished without given a chance to discuss or appeal it?

I know teaching is different from parenting but I’ve been working with kids for quite a few years now and it’s honestly the main thing I’d say I’ve learned about them, and it’s laughably simple: they are people, they have a perspective and they understand fairness, and they will respond a LOT better to being spoken with like an equal than being talked at like a lesser being. Who’d have thought????

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[ang3ltine]

"𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠" - Ellie Williams x Jealous freader MDNI!! 18+

𝖲𝗒𝗉𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗌: Having a crush on Ellie wasn't easy, especially when she had her eyes set on Dina. Does that make you jealous? Very much, but Ellie was determined to prove you wrong. Even if it means fucking the truth into you.

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: slight angst and adult themes, so please scroll if you're a minor!

Despite the Tipsy Bison being pretty full tonight, you couldn't help but feel lonely.

Your eyes were following a certain brunette in the middle of the dance floor, Dina. As much as your heart ached from seeing her flaunt around with Ellie with that sickingly sweet smile on her face, you couldn't stop staring.

Much to your disappointment, you weren't Ellie's type. Dina on the other hand, seemed like the perfect girl for her. You wanted to reject the idea of them being a couple so bad but that was the ugly truth. You didn't look like Dina but the way that Ellie looks at her made you wish that you did.

Stirring the drink in your hand, you hastily chugged it down your throat before slamming it down on the counter in front of you. You were at the bar, already getting drunk after a few rounds.

"Hey, you good?", you snapped out of your trance and turned to face Jesse. He stepped away from your sudden movement with his hands up in the air, chuckling slightly. "Woah! Not a threat, calm down." You gave him a forced smile and told him you were OK.

"I'm fine... just not feeling the party vibes right now."

Looking down at your hands, you saw dark crescent wounds appear on your palms from how hard you were clenching your fists.

"Doesnt sound like your ok. Your smile gave it away bubba," you snorted at the nickname and gave him a 'are you kidding me' look. He started calling you bubba after your obsession with bubbles as a kid and hasn't stopped teasing you since. You were the same age as Ellie, just a few months older. But that didn't stop you two from being close.

That was until she started talking to Dina. After her and Jesse broke up, it seemed like the pair started getting closer than usual. Up to the point that Ellie barely came by your place anymore.

Taking a deep breath then slowly turned your head back to the couple in the corner of the room.

"I was that obvious huh?" You sighed while you turned around fully to face away from the counter and leaned on it instead.

"Kind of yeah," Jesse laughed as he grabs your glass before you could take another sip. "By the way, your girlfriend over there hasn't stopped staring at you the whole night. I'm guessing from how much you've been drinking you haven't noticed yet."

You furrowed your eyebrows as Jesse nods towards the table where Dina and Ellie were sitting on.

Just like Jesse had said, a pair of dark green eyes locked with yours. Suddenly you felt exposed under her intense stare.

She was eyeing your outfit, which was a simple white cami dress with a lace trim paired with your usual leather brown jacket.

Considering that there were kids in the party too , you wore something appropriate but pretty nonetheless.

Ellie gave you a small smile before looking back to Dina to carry on their conversation.

"She's not my 'girlfriend' ", you sighed while rubbing your temples with your fingers. "Besides she looks like she has her eyes set on Dina..." you rambled on while walking with Jesse to a free table near the entrance of the bar.

A small frown was apparent on your face, catching the eye of a certain brunette just a few tables away. She noticed how you didn't smile back at her. Walking beside Jesse like you never even acknowledged Ellie's presence.

"Dina does have a way with words," Jesse grimaced as he poured you another drink. Realising there was no stopping you and saw how upset you were.

"Nah she's not for me, you on the other hand. You have a chance with Ellie, she clearly likes you -" before he could say another word he catches something that he thought he'd never see.

You noticed how Jesse froze with the beer bottle in his hand and followed his nervous gaze towards the couple behind you.

Dina... was kissing Ellie??

Suddenly the room started to spin and a painful throb formed in your throat. Jesse's voice became muffled as he tried calming you down, feeling your heart quicken and your palms becoming sweaty.

You had to get out of there. Fast.

That's exactly what you did, despite being pretty tipsy from the drinks. You found the strength to make it towards the door and a frantic Jesse followed after to make sure you got home safely.

After dropping you off he muttered an apology and a long hug before leaving. Knowing you had a rough night and wanted some alone time.

Half an hour had gone by before you heard knocks on the front door. You had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room and quite frankly, didn't want to get up to answer.

But after another set of frantic knocks, you got up with heavy steps and opened the door lazily. Lucky for you, you sober up quite quickly, but it didn't mean the throbbing on your head had gone away yet.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. Ellie felt you tense up but soon relax under her touch as her hands slide to your waist, looking down at you with worried eyes.

"Hey... I'm sorry you had to see that. Dina, she uh - wanted us to be thing, but I turned her down. Are you ok though?"

"I'm fine just...I dunno honestly-" you internationally groaned from how pathetic you must look right now.

"You're jealous of me and Dina?"

"You've been with her all night." You sighed while messing with the band of her jeans, sticking your finger through one of the belt holes.

"Hey" her finger slipped under your chin, tilting your head up slightly to meet her eyes. "Why didn't you come over?"

"I didn't want to bother you. You were having fun -" before you could say more, Ellie cut you off.

"Yeah, well I would've had more fun with you and not seeing you sulk with Jesse." She snickered as she sees the flicker of a smile on your face.

"So you were watching me the whole time and you didn't think to come over yourself?" You pried with a smug look on your face.

"With the dress you're wearing? Who wouldn't stare? Plus I didn't want to ruin your conversation with Jesse."

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at her comment with a dopey smile on your face.

"So we're just both idiots?"

"Yup" she stated, emphasising the p. You moved towards the mirror that was in the hallway to see how bad you looked after a rough nap on the couch. In your eyes you looked like an absolute mess.

Your dress was all ruffled from you constantly moving in hour sleep, the same with your hair. The makeup you wore was starting to fade , making the outer rims of your eyes dark.

Ellie then wrapped her around your waist, meeting your eyes in the mirror, her breath fanning your neck.

"I know what you're thinking. But you still look gorgeous in my eyes ," you wanted to say something back but your breath got caught in your throat. Her hands had snuck down to your torso. Rubbing slow but comforting circles into your hips.

"What are we Ellie?" You finally breathed out.

"Hm I thought it was obvious," she drawled as her fingers made their way down to the band of your denim shorts.

"Last time I checked, you and I had a pretty good time last night. Guess I have to prove it to you again, huh , princess?"

Your face warmed up again, memories flicking back to last night. A faint ache pulsated in your shorts as you finally caught her hand messing with the button on the flap. "You're very confident tonight."

"Had a few drinks, oh and trust me. You being jealous is just fueling my desire."

It was then that you could smell her favourite liquor on her breath. Hastily unzipping the small zipper between her much larger fingers as she started to kiss your neck then your jaw.

"I just - I feel bad...let me make it up to you." She says in-between kisses.

Knowing you couldn't really talk her out of it, you let her do her thing. Turning your head to press a soft kiss on her cheek as she left sloppy kisses down your neck.

Her heart rate had increased as you turn around fully and looked up to see that her eyes had begun to dliate.

"See this? This is how you're making me feel right now. Absolutely crazy," Ellie pointed out as her voice goes on octave deeper. Leaning down, she lightly grazes your lips with hers as your breath hitches. She glances into your eyes, silently asking for your permission.

Seeing as there was no way out of this, you gave in. Pressing your lips against hers with fervent as you reach up to entangle you fingers into her hair. You tug at it gently, pulling out a low groan from Ellie as she deepens the kiss.

Her lips were slightly chapped but it didn't bother you as much, they were still soft. Tasting the liquor on her tongue as she slowly backs you up to the couch behind you.

Yelping as soon as she picks you up behind your legs and plops you down onto the soft cushions. It was slightly messy but that wasn't really on your mind right now. Ellie had crawled ontop of you to pull you in for another heated kiss. Whispering sweet nothings againgst your lips while you let out soft moans. Bucking up mindlessly against her hips.

She carefully removes your shorts and hiked up your dress revealing your dainty pink underwear.

"Oh? What do we have here..?", she drawls as her slender fingers crept over your throbbing cunt.

You're not sure when it happened but you only grew more wet just by her painfully hot touch.

Quickly stripping you, she left you in just your underwear. Burying her face into your neck to leave harsh kisses and bites all along your supple skin. She rips off your bra before attaching her lips onto your erected nipples, sucking and swirling around both buds carefully.

Her hand reaches down towards your heat, already feeling a wet spot on your underwear. "Huh.. that wet for me already? Just from a few kisses?" She chuckles darkly as she removes the dainty piece of clothing onto the floor beside you.

You feel her push in her index finger into you, slowly, making sure you would feel every inch of her girthy finger. The feeling of her fingers stretching you oh so deliciously got you drooling - fuck even Ellie seemed to be enjoying this more than you. Picking up the pace, she was practically fucking you with her rough fingers. Abusing your sopping wet cunt while mindlessly sucking your boob's, taking turns on each one.

Her pace never once faltered, not when you looked so good when throwing your head back in pleasure and moaning out her name. Ellie, sucked and bit each and every inch of skin she could reach, while her fingers remained curled inside you. You were so close.

"Shit Ellie! Gonna cum - please I'm gonna..-"

"Do it. Cum all over my fingers baby" she hissed as she looks down at you through her lashes. Admiring your ruined form with a lazy smirk.

Still drunk from the alcohol and the buzz from being horny.

You grab the hem of her shirt and pull her into a seering hot kiss. You couldn't let her have all the fun.

Tugging at the ends you asked for permission to take it off. She tuts and guides your hand towards the nape of your neck.

"Uh I don't think so. I'm in charge right now so you just lay back like the poised princess that you are ..", her voice going an octave deeper as she only became more amused at your reaction.

God you hated her.

An hour into the session, she has you in her lap as you lay your head on her shoulder. Already becoming exhausted from the constant thrusting from Ellie's slender fingers.

"Fuck", Ellie hissed as the grip on your hip tightened. Almost certainly leaving a bruise mark on your supple skin.

You keen, long and guttural as she continues hitting at your g-spot. Your pelvis unkowngly bucks into her hand, wanting more than you could take.

Ellie nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving a series of dark hickeys all over down your bare chest. Your nipples perked as she has one mound in her mouth and the other between her unoccupied fingers.

After a while she let's go with a pop and grabs your ass making you rise up and slam back down on her fingers. You cried out and instinctively reach for her shoulders for balance.

"I" slam "Still hate you", you sneer slightly despite being in a euphoric state.

"Oh, rude aren't we?" She snickered as your breath caught in your throat, you would've retorted had she not stuck another finger in. Twisting and going deeper than before to make you more dumbed out.

A dirty cheater for sure.

"Ugh...!! I-- did you have to ruin my dress too-?", you managed to hiss out while you peered down at the smug women beneath you.

You were an absolute mess, mascara stained tears ran down your cheeks. The curls of your hair unravelled and cascaded down your shoulders and your perfect pink lips, swollen and slightly bleeding.

"Don't worry babe, I'll get you a new one", she cooes while she moves a stray strand of hair away from your face.

It was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, but another thing to have a partner so smart yet bossy as you, being desperate for her to ruin your cunt.

"Shit babe!! Right there--!"

She had you fucking on her fingers for so long you couldn't even check the time on the clock, your vision blurred from your tears. At last you finally burst, unleashing a wave.

Helping you ride through your orgasm until the only thing heard in the room was lewd , wet noises coming from your sopping cunt.

Ellie, was stuffing your own juices back into you at this point, you couldn't really tell if it was that, or her fingers were just too filling.

You both were panting, one more than the other as you reach up to caress her cheeks. Nuzzling your nose against hers and whispered "I love you."

"I love me too," you scoffed and tried scrambling out of her grasp. She was laughing while trying to get you back on the couch.

"I'm fucking with you ok? I love you too dummy."

With that, Ellie lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. She softly placed a kiss on your damp forehead as she makes her way down the corridor, heading for the washroom to give you a nice warm bath.

"Still think I like Dina?"

You lightly hit her arm playfully and rolled your eyes.

"Shuttup and just take me to the bathroom already."

[pupyuj]

imagine dom!g!p!liz x sub!reader overstim , liz using reader for her pleasure :(( poor reader starts crying but liz still doesn't stop :(( pls do this I will cry

THANK GOD i dug deep into my inbox bcs if i didn’t see this i would have thought that you guys don’t want to see nothing but yujin and wonyoung from me 😭😭😭 that being said I NEED MORE JIWON, GAEUL, AND REI ASKS THROWN MY WAY 😞😞💔

[cw: dubcon, g!p liz, blowjob, unhealthy power dynamic.]

sexually frustrated nervous wreck of a senior jiwonie x blissfully unaware moony-eyed trainee reader, my beloveds 🫠🫠

having jiwon as your #1 idol of all time bcs you thought she was just like you!! so shy and adorably clumsy, but was born with a boatload of talent for performing and singing!! hell, wony and yuj might be the reason you chose starship out of all the companies that attempted to recruit you but jiwon is really the girl that made you stay and commit your hardwork and efforts to the company! 🥺 and ofc jiwon was quick to acknowledge and express her gratitude for your support, verbally too!

jiwon didn’t know it then but your starstruck eyes that you couldn’t keep off of her really unlocked something inside her… 😵‍💫

but getting closer and closer until the two of you were the best of friends… hanging out outside of the company building, having places and things you can call as your guys’ places and things, taking silly pictures of each other in your respective phones and cameras, helping each other through the hardest hurdles of your lives 🥰🥰 seems all fine and dandy, right?? but you didn’t know that one day you would be helping jiwon with so much more than you can handle! 🫣

why, one day you were feeding each other ice cream while watching a classic chick flick when you noticed that jiwon seemed to be so down, something about stupid hurtful comments online affecting her self-esteem :(( she apologized for being such a mood killer but she really didn't need to! and she doesn't have to be anymore bcs you told her you'd do anything to cheer her up and make her smile again, such a pure girl you are! 🥺

unfortunately for you, you really didn't expect that sucking her dick with your little inexperienced mouth would be the one thing that would comfort her! :(( the cuddling was fine, even the kisses were okay... but grabbing your hair and putting your face against her crotch and forcing her dick down your throat?? that was a bit much... but if it meant making your jiwon-unnie happy? ofc you'd do it as best as you could! 🤭🤭

you didn't even have to worry about not knowing how to do any of this! jiwonie will guide you herself! 😍 nails attached to your scalp, controlling your pace, holding you down when it feels too good, telling you all about how good you were making her feel and all the different things you could do to make it all better for her 😍😍 she wouldn't even care that you're choking on her cum :(( she'll barely even give you a break before invading your mouth again, completely forgetting that not only were you her precious junior but also her friend <//3 you're just a pretty toy for her to use and play with now :((

definitely abuses your cunt when she gets the chance too, are you kidding 😭😭 jiwonie never wanted to admit but she has always looked at you inappropriately but just never wanted to give in to her desires until now and it was partly your fault bcs you were so nice and kind… how could jiwon not take advantage of that? ☹️ and you’re laying face down on her bed with your ass up feeling so torn bcs it really, really hurt when jiwonie’s just mindlessly ramming her cock inside you but your knuckles are turning white gripping the sheets out of pure pleasure, and you’re screaming her name so beautifully so you obviously want more, right??

and it’s weird bcs yeah the things she’s doing to you are wrong but she’s still so sweet to you?? she apologizes multiple times while using you to get off and cares for you so well afterwards that you don’t want to resist or say anything when she starts touching you again 🫠

[footygirl114]

Destino (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

I wasnt lying when I said that the inspiration bug has hit me, and dropping unsupportive weight has defiantly helped! So here is the second fic of this inspiration wave - lots of fluff in this one!

Part 2 to: Entrenadora - I would suggest this one first

After exchanging a few texts with Alexia you found it difficult to focus through the rest of the day but you managed to get through the 3 lectures you had. Luckily you were a professional and passionate about teaching which meant it was not too difficult to zone into the teaching subjects. But once you were in your office after the conclusion of your lectures you were once again filled with that nervous giddy excitement. 

Staring at your phone you had an unread message from Alexia with her free evenings for dinner for the next few weeks. Once you looked and compared them to your own calendar in front of you, you immediately deflated as there was not a single date that lined up with your own free evenings. Teaching and coaching has your calendar filled to the brim, and any free nights seemed to line up with Alexia’s game nights. 

Before you responded you couldn’t help the sinking feeling that the fact that Alexia even was looking in your direction was too good to be true. there was no way someone of her caliber and fame would ever be satisfied with you, and you knew that this was the universe telling you to give up on this and not even bother to continue to try to purse this one. 

You made up a text to send back to the footballer, basically laughing about not having any free dates and maybe it was not meant to be. Not wanting to see a response you put your phone on do not disturb and dove into work, and coaching later that evening. 

It wasn’t until the following morning when you gave your brain the chance to think about her again, you were sitting at the counter in a coffee shop with your laptop open trying to catch up on a few emails before you had an appointment. It was a place not in your normal neighbourhood but you had a appointment in the area and you didn’t want to be late so you came down early to get some work done. 

You were enthralled with you computer, and reading an article about some advances in cancer treatments when you felt someone sit down beside you and place a hand on your arm. 

Startled you turn and pull out one of your headphones and you meet the eyes of the one person you were trying to forget “Alexia.” 

“Hola Y/N, lo seinto I did not mean to startle you but you didn’t hear me over the music” she says with a smile. 

You smile back at her, and can feel the butterflies settle in your stomach as you ask her “what are you doing here?” 

She chuckles and points over her shoulder “I live around the corner, this is my usual coffee spot.” 

You cant help but chuckle at that and say “of all the coffee shops I pick, I pick yours, the universe really is wild.” 

“I prefer to think of it as fate, especially since you never answered my text” she says with a small smile, and if you didn’t know any better you would think she was nervous.

You blush knowing you got caught avoiding her as you say “sorry busy night coaching, and I turned my phone on do not disturb”

She smiles and moves her hand to your forearm squeezing it she says “I know we are both busy, but I would like to take you on that date eventually Y/N.” 

“you would?” you ask surprised before you have a chance to rethink the answer. 

She looks offended as she responds and says “Si Y/N”

“why?” you ask again before your mind catches up with you.

“I want to get to know you better Y/N, thats what dates are for. There was something between us, and the fact that I think you see me for me, makes me want to know you.” She says seriously. 

“Oh.”

She chuckles and leans forward and whispers in your ear “I want to know everything about the cute blushing football coach, and I will keep telling you that until you let me take you out to prove it” finishing it with a kiss to your cheek. 

Before you can even respond she squeezes your arm and says “I have to go, but please text me back at some point and lets run into each other on purpose, and not leave it up to fate again.” 

You nod and say to her “i can do that.” 

Smiling she presses another kiss to your cheek and whispers out “goodbye” and she takes off out of the cafe. You barley have time to overthink that interaction when your alarm goes off reminding you of your appointment and you hastily pack up and head out. 

**

Over the next week you keep your word and continue to text her, she makes sure to send you a message every morning, even though she’s up way before you, and every night before she falls asleep. She also continues to ask you small questions to learn the little things about you, and every time you smile as she keeps her word about wanting to know you. 

Although you seem to talk quite often you still cannot get your schedules to line up, one of your only free afternoons for the week has you helping out a colleague with a research study. She is studying the effects of injuries on female footballers, you know her study has become quite popular and she was at the point of having live footballer in her lab to study. 

She immediately puts you to work and you are helping to register some of the volunteers she has in for the study, most are younger footballers and are excited to help try to get involved in a study like this. You are helping to register a young player on crutches when you hear one of the other players in the waiting room gasp and whisper “is that Alexia Putellas?”.

You look up and meet her eyes as she walks into the room, and you have to hold the smile in and when she winks at you, you know you have a blush on your face. You quickly finish with the young player in front of you and you call her up next. 

“hi, I’m here for the study” she says with a smile.

You nod and ask her the simple registration questions, most of them you already know the answer to but you have to go through the motions. You hand her a clipboard and when she grabs it you can feel her hand brush yours and the sparks run up your arm as you say “can you sign at the bottom please.” 

She signs and moves to sit in the waiting room for her turn, you don’t have someone else to register so you are able to watch her for a minute from your spot behind the table. She has at in between two young players and they are both talking a mile a minute at her, she’s smiling and answering their questions and you smile to your self at how amazing she is. 

When two grad students come out and take the other two younger girls to the back you are left with just Alexia in the waiting room and she stands up to come closer and says “I had no idea you would be here today.”

“My colleague and friend is running the study and she asked for some help today, she knew I had the afternoon off and suckered me into it” you tell her with a chuckle. 

“It seems fate really does want us to be near each other Y/N” she says with a small smirk and leans down on both hands on the table closer to you. 

You chuckle and say to her “You came on to my campus Alexia, it seems you wanted to run into me.” 

She smirks and says “its a big campus.” 

“I work in the anatomy building, my office is a floor above here.”

“I didn’t know that did I? I am just here to further the advancement of women’s football Y/N. You did tell me that you studied me for tactical reasons, maybe I should let someone study me for science” she finishes and winks at you with a smirk. 

You bite your lip and look around before you surge up out of your chair towards her and you press your lips hard to hers. It lasts only a moment before you pull back a breath away and say “I’m the only one who should be watching and studying you.” 

She smirks and says “that can be arranged Y/N, name the time and place.” 

Before you can respond the door opens and you both spring back from each other as a grad student comes in to get Alexia for her turn with the study. She follows the student but turns towards you before she disappears through the door and she blows a kiss and shoots you a wink. 

**

The following few days are spent texting and talking to Alexia on the phone as much as you both could manage, she was definitely flirting with you more than before and you were giving it right back. You were starting to come around to the idea that she actually wants to get to know you and you know you were wanting to know her back. 

The next weekend Alexia happens to have a Friday night game, meaning she has Saturday off. You however have a tournament with your nieces team so once again your schedule did not line up. You settled for not being able to see her once again but you kept to talking and texting with her. 

Your teams first game of the day was a competitive one but your team held their own and came out with a draw. Not the way to start a tournament but you kept the team positive and when the second game later in the afternoon came around and your team came out flying you were much more relaxed when you went up 4-0 in the 40th minute. 

A break in play and you take a moment to look around the field as you cant shake the feeling of eyes on you. When you lock eyes on a lone figure sitting behind the net with a ball cap on you know exactly who it is, and why you could feel eyes on you. You smile to your self as you never told her where you were playing and she must have looked it up to see you. 

The rest of the game you keep sneaking glances but she is so focused on your team playing that she doesn’t meet your eyes once. You smile to your self because you know its who she is and how passionate she is about football that she is enthralled in even a youth game. 

When the final whistle blows and your team finishes the victor of a 5-0 game you smile and shake yours and the other teams hands as well, while there is still a crowd around you look towards the sidelines and she’s not where she was. You feel a bit of disappointment but you continue to celebrate with your team, you make sure everyones packed up and ready for the semi final in the morning. 

You stay behind at the field to speak with your brother and niece and when you realise you left your phone on the bench you go back to grab it. You walk to your car and you see Alexia leaning against the side of it waiting for you. you smile walking toward her and say “hi, i thought you left.”

“I knew you’d seen me, so I couldn’t sneak away, but i didn’t want to be spotted and recognised by the anyone” she shrugs with a sheepish smile. 

You move to stand right in front of her and you ask her with a smile “how did you know we were playing here?” 

She chuckles and says “i have my ways Y/N.” 

“why did you come out?” 

“maybe I wanted to see you coach for purely tactical reasons” she shrugs with a soft smile. 

You step right into her space, dropping your bag beside you, you ask her “oh so it was only for tactics?”

She smirks and places her hands on your hips, she shakes her head and says “no Y/N, I wanted to see you.” 

Pressing your body to hers you press her back into your car and you ask “do you want to come over?” 

She leans down and stops a breath from your lips and says “I do, for purely tactical reasons.” 

You close the distance and press your lips to hers. She doesn’t let you have a moment before she responds and you feel her lips move against yours, her hands wander to your lower back and you press harder into her. After a few moments you pull back slightly and bite softly to her lower lip and release it with a pop and a smile, asking softly “follow me?” 

“anywhere” she immediately responds and moves to open your door for you as she says “my lady” and she curtsies. 

You chuckle as you get into the car whispering “nerd.” 

She closes the door and blows you a kiss and backs away to her car. You wait for her to get in and you pull out of the spot watching her the whole way in your rearview mirror to your place. When you pull into your building you get out and meet her at the front of your car and neither of you say anything as she follows you up in the elevator to your floor. Once again in silence she follows you to your door and waits beside you as you unlock it. 

She follows you in and when you turn to close the door she pushes you against it with her body and immediately connects your mouth with hers. She wastes no time before her tongue is in your mouth and caressing yours, her hands have roamed to your hips and yours go around her neck as you respond to the kiss. 

You lose yourself in the feeling of Alexia pressed against you, you can feel your self soaking your underwear and your thoughts are consumed with Alexia and how she feels and tastes. When she slows down the kiss and pulls back pressing multiple light kisses on to your lips she presses her forehead to yours and you both are panting and smiling at each other. 

You move your hands up to the hem of her shirt and try to push it up but she shakes her head and you pause and look at her as she pulls her head back and says “I want you Y/N, god you don’t know what you do to me and how much I want you but I think we should slow down.”

Giving her a confused you look you ask “what?” 

She chuckles and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and says “you’re cute.” 

She pulls back and moves into your apartment looking around, you follow her into the kitchen and move to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. You grab two glasses and she turns around to you, you ask “wine?” 

“si por favor.”

You nod and pour two glasses bringing them both over to your couch and you pat beside you to get her to sit. She comes over and grabs one and settles sitting sideways on the couch so she is facing you and she smiles takes a sip of her wine and then places it on the table. You do the same and you ask “whats going through your mind Ale?” 

Smiling she says “i like you calling me that.” 

Chuckling you say “stop avoiding the question Ale.” 

She smiles and moves to grab your hand and she says “I want you but I also want to prove to you that I want you Y/N. I have noticed some of your hesitations and as much as I think tonight would be mind-blowing, I want to prove to you that I want you for you. The sweet, kind, cute professor who tends to ramble when she’s nerding out on a topic she cares about, or who takes time out of their busy schedule to coach their nieces team thats who i want to know. Every little detail about you, not just one night but for many.” 

You melt into her at that and she wraps her arms around you as you whisper into her neck “I want that too.” 

She presses a kiss to your hair and says “I will have my way with you soon, but first i want to know the beautiful brain and what makes you you.” 

You lean up and press a kiss to the underside of her jaw and when she looks at you, you whisper out “thank you for seeing me Ale.” 

“this isn’t just for tactics, this is for us” she whispers and presses her lips softly to yours. 

[thepriceofagift]

PSA!

AO3 is a safe haven for fanfic authors to create anything. This is so, so important for the health of fandom.

Just because you don’t understand why someone wrote something, that doesn’t give you any right to assume the worst and harass them with no context.

I need to rant about this, so I’ll do so.

Trigger/content warning for mentions of sexual trauma below the cut. Proceed with due caution!

I tend to write dark stories.

My current works on AO3 are a duology exploring themes of mental illness, trauma, and surviving sexual assault. They also explore the journey to healing and recovery that follows.

“You write non-con?! You’re a monster!”

I write to cope with my own trauma.

I’m comfortable disclosing what happened to me, but not everybody is.

Let me tell you a little secret: the majority of fanfic authors are women or otherwise AFAB.

According to these statistics, women have an estimated 1 in 4 chance of suffering some form of sexual violence by the time they turn 18 (and men have a 1 in 7 chance).

THE PEOPLE WHO WRITE DARKFIC ARE SURVIVORS.

Real rapists don’t tend to write fanfic about rape. They just rape people.

If you want to fight rape culture, harassing victims over their coping mechanisms is NOT THE WAY TO DO IT.

“But they didn’t say they were a victim!”

Not everyone is comfortable disclosing their trauma, especially if they haven’t processed it yet or if it’s still happening to them in the present.

In the case an actual rapist is writing fanfic, the problem isn’t the fanfic, it’s the fact they raped someone.

(Time to tell my story, because I’m comfortable with it.)

I’ve been sexually traumatized since age 11. At age 12, I grew incredibly depressed and dangerously suicidal. At age 13, I became externally hypersexual, which has followed me to this day.

Though my mental health has vastly improved with help (a loving support network, medication, therapy), the injury isn’t gone. It’s only healed. I still have the “scar”.

“What do you mean by scar?”

Great question, imaginary asker! I mean that I’ve been left with some odd “kinks” as a result of little me fetishizing the sexual trauma as a coping mechanism.

These include dehumanization, powerlessness, degradation, and general despair.

Although I could explore these in reality (in theory), I don’t want to for two reasons: Firstly, I’m aroace. Secondly, these could become incredibly dangerous very quickly, and I don’t want to be hurt again.

So, what’s the solution? How do I engage with this problematic aspect of my own sexuality?

Through fanfiction.

Yep. I’d read explicit material to daydream myself into the place of the protagonist in search of catharsis. I’d choose to read about characters I already liked (in fact, I only posted my first work because Kinich didn’t have any explicit material to my tastes, so I had to do it myself).

“Catharsis” is the concept of healing by feeling the hurt again. If you’ve ever cried, the feeling of renewal and emptiness that comes when you stop is catharsis. It’s integral to healing from any emotional pain.

In order to heal from trauma, we need to process it safely. AO3 gives us a location to do that.

“But I don’t like it! It’s making me uncomfortable, and it’s triggering!”

Then don’t read it. Filter out the tags and block the author.

You see a darkfic? Filter and block.

You see a proship? Filter and block.

You see anything you don’t like on the Internet? Filter and block.

Harassment is never the answer.

Good gods, that was long-winded. Thank you for reading, and please, spread this post around if you can.

"Why can't the freaks on AO3 just go and make a site for all the gross stuff and leave AO3 alone."

Because AO3 is that site. Because AO3 was that site long before you decided AO3 was better than the sites you bullied us off of before, and I can promise you if someone somehow comes up with a fanfic site you like better specifically for the 'gross stuff' you'll try to bully us off that too so you can benefit from it.

AO3's specific core purpose is to preserve fanfiction, yes, but it was also instigated as a host site for the fanfiction that kept getting yeeted off other platforms like Wattpad. Its designed to preserve all fanfiction, not just the fanfiction you, personally, think is 'allowed' to be written.

AO3 is the site for all the gross stuff the freaks make. We've been there just as long as you. We've been funding it just as long as you have. AO3 has specifically said you have a place here. The timeline was literally:

Wattpad/FF.net/LiveJournal purge fanfics > AO3 is born > The people who's fics got purged moved over to AO3 > AO3 gains popularity as the best functioning site > The people who pushed for the fics to be purged off Wattpad move to AO3 > The same people try to push for AO3 to purge fics.

AO3's source coding is open-access. You go make a polished, strict, rigid site where nothing 'icky' is allowed. You go make a site where you can control what is hosted. We already have our space.

[miraclechatbug]

Watching Werepapas has made me realize how little control Adrien thinks he has over his life. His grandparents are literally fighting over their guardian rights over him, and he is under the table, concerned about Plagg, and not paying attention in the slightest. Marinette, Nathalie, and The Gorilla were all more upset and worried than he was. Or at least, they showed more emotion.

And honestly, that's so concerning. How little control and choice must someone have over their life to react this way? In the end, when they finally ask him what he wants... he says he doesn't know himself. He's happy to let Marinette make the decision for him, and it's obvious that he wants Marinette wants for him, it's obvious to everyone except him.

He never voices out loud what he wants, such as how obviously he wants Nathalie to hug him back and show him affection at the beginning of his episode. And his shirt was so wrinkled! I think he's struggling more than ever, but he's so good at acting that he's fine– he's so well put together. I fear he doesn't even know how much he's struggling himself. He constantly says he doesn't know how he's feeling himself, which means he is very disconnected with his emotions. People who are very repressed say such things, people who never had chances to explore their feelings themselves, never got the freedom or choice to express themselves. Adrien doesn’t voice his wants, not because they don’t exist, but because he’s never been given the space to acknowledge them. The moment he does, he risks confronting just how deeply he craves something he believes he can’t have. So, he keeps moving, keeps smiling, keeps convincing everyone— himself included, that he’s fine.

It's a learned habit, a defense mechanism. People who have always been told what to feel, or who have been given no room to feel at all, probably end up like this– adrift and unsure of where their own emotions begin or end. It’s repression at its most insidious.

[one-green-frog]

Just read part 2 of family knows best (So good btw!) and if it’s not a problem wanted to ask? Request? About if the reactions of the Batfam if the reader wanted to be left alone. Thanks in advance wither you do it or not.

I loved this idea and immediately started writimg something. Thanks for requesting and i hope you enjoy.

Smothered

Platonic yandere batfam x m!reader

Your life would never be the same

Ever since the Wayne family laid their eyes on you, they were non-stop by your side. Suffocating, crushing you under the weight of their attention. For some people this would be a dream come true, but for you this was your personal hell.

It wasn't because your were shy, or had social anxiety or had trouble making friends, you just did not want their attention, you just wanted to be left alone. Enjoy the silence, the solitude without anyone disturbing it.

The worst part- you couldn't do anything about it. Sure living in the manor was very nice and you were thankful that at least the butler had some sense of privacy, but the rest of them probably didn’t even know that word.

You didn't really have a say in the matter of your stay, they would always appear just as you were about to leave the manor, as if they were watching you. As soon as you touched a door knob one of them would appear, be It Bruce, his kids or even the butler.There was no escape in sight, so trying to stay in your room all day seemed to be your only option.

But it seems as if a higher being just wanted to torture you. Dick would usually just barge into you room and announce "sibling time" as if it was a grant event, while you just glared at him. He is a big brother so you know that he feels responsible for keeping the family, especially the siblings, together and as the new part of the family, he probably felt like he had to be extra affectionate to you. Make you feel welcome with open arms, as if they did not force you to be here. He'd just drag you around, acting as if you were just another one of his siblings, treating you as if you too were enjoying the time spent together.

The others aren't better. You tried, really hard too, to get them to leave you alone, but as if a sickness fell all over them and they couldn't stop.

Jason built-like-a-tank Todd would always ramble about new books he read and he wouldn't stop. You tried to just walk away leave the room, get him to stop, speak over him, but he was persistent. He followed you around, ignoring the fact that you were hardly listening, too focused on glaring at him with all you hate. He knew you weren't listening, but did he care? No. The time was still spent with you, still in your presence and that seemed to be enough for him, just talking at you. Closed doors? Please, that won't keep him out for even a second.

The only "escape" was telling Jason about a new book you read. You knew he would listen, so if you fabricated a story about a book you read to get him off of you, then so be it. Jason would almost immediately walk towards the library, trying to "catch up" so you two could discuss it. Like a dog chasin a stick, he took of to the library, taking the chance to get closer to you.

Then there is Tim. God, even if he wasn’t physically there, you knew he was watching.

Hell, he had Microphones and Cameras in your room before you begged Alfred to tell him to remove them. It wasn't easy and you had to sacrifice some of your time.Tim loved taking pictures of you, be it with a digital camera or a Polaroid one, he just loved to capture every minute of you two being together. The deal was that Tim would remove every device he planted in your room and in exchange he got to take pictures of you during a specific amount of time. It wasn't perfect, but in the end, this was the only way to feel kind of safe in your room again. This meant that you only had to spent a certain amount of time with him while he could take his creepy photos of you, at least he would leave you alone for the rest of the day. However, there was always that uncomfortable feeling you got from him while he looked at you through the camera.

Duke Thomas was seen as the light of them family, but to you he probably resembled a swallowing shadow. He too was always around, but finding a way to "escape" him was probably the hardest. He could switch from topic to topic, always finding another interesting new fact to talk about. The only time you were sure you wouldn't keep talking is when the grandfather clock struck ten p.m. Alfred always came into your room to make sure you would get enough sleep, and no one would ever get in the way of that.

Sometimes you were lucky enough to come up with a "reasonable" excuse, something along the lines of "having promised to spent time with another sibling". Since time spent with you was premium, the siblings agreed that no one was allowed to disturb another and luckily for you, due to the hectic life of the Wayne's, there weren't set times for each sibling.

The youngest Wayne, Damian, was... okay? Sure, he was clingy, more physical than others, but he usually spent his time with you in the barn, where they kept the animals. It wasn’t the alone time you wanted but it was the only semi-alone time you would get. Damian wasn't overly talkative, a few one-sided conversation, but otherwise he was focused on you, not great but at least no overly enthusiastic talking. Another plus was the animals. Alfred the cat usually set up camp in your lap, purring like an engine while you pet him, by this time batcow was usually laid right behind you so you could lean against it. The other animals joined them around you as if sensing you exhaustion. Honestly wasn't so bad, excluding the child staring at you like you owed him your soul.

And finally there is Bruce Wayne. The Master of the family, the one that brought you here. You especially hated spending time with him, because of the way he looked at you, as if he were proud of you, it made your skin crawl. Bruce, surprisingly, loved spending any sort of meal with you, be it breakfast or supper, he loved spending it sitting opposite of you. You wished you could just take the food up to your room, but unfortunately Alfred forbade it and saying no to the butler was never going to happen. So you stayed at the table while Bruce held conversations with you, spanning from "how was your day?" to "we should spend more time together as family, its lovely." Just bullshit conversion as you try to enjoy your food. The only saving grace was Alfred the butler, who was adamant that conversations were held before and after the meals, since they had to be enjoyed while hot. Unfortunately escaping Bruce wasn't as easy, as he would guilt you into staying. It was complicated, you really just wanted to be left alone and yet being actually mean to any of them just felt wrong and just straight up leaving the table while Bruce talked so passionately also gnawed at your conscience. Especially when Alfred wouldsit with you two at the table, pouring a cup of tea for everyone. You knew that this was downtime for him. He deserved a break and you knew, that the only reason he took one was because of you. So you stayed, enjoying the tea, even if it was only because you felt guilty.

They knew that you hated spending time with them, that you wanted to be left alone, spend time in your room with no one else, just enjoy the silence. The way you recoiled at their touch, glared at them and just rolled your eyes whenever they started to speak, it hurt them. They knew what you thought of them and they felt bad, they really did, but could you really blame them?

To them you were just too precious, too important to be left alone, they had no other choice. It was for you best, really! Can't you see that it's all for your health and safety? Being alone all the time was bad for you so if they had to "bother" to keep you save then there was no other way. With time you would understand that in reality it was all just love. Endless love just for you.

Tihihi i love writing for batfam so much! Please don't be afraid to request!

Taglist: @lilyalone

[carmenberzattosgf]

Happy Valentine’s Day! Wishing you so much love! I had a thought I know you’ve already touched on this but surprising Carmy with a tattoo of c.b in HIS HAND WRITING like right under your breast. And he’s like feral, like saying the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard, groaning in your ear, choking…

Happy Valentine’s Day! And hehe let’s dive into this because yes. ( also reducing it down to just a C because I think it would be really hard to get a cb in his hand writing to look good.)

The hardest part of the entire thing is actually getting his handwriting for the stencil, and it not looking like a complete mess. Carmen is always in a rush, so anytime he has to sign his name for something it looks messy.

You had roped Sugar into your idea a few weeks ago, asking her to check all the documents he signs for a neatly written signature. It truly takes a few weeks, but she pulls through and sends you a copy of his neat-ish signature. Well, neat for him, anyway.

You get the tattoo on Valentine’s Day, not letting there be any chance of it getting spoiled. The tattoo artist covers it in second skin, so the “C” is still visible underneath. It’s on your rib cage, just underneath your breast.

Carmy, shockingly enough, manages to convince Sydney to let him go home early on Valentine’s Day, so he can spend the rest of the evening with you. He had already surprised you with flowers and chocolates on your nightstand when you woke up this morning. You both had already decided to spend the right in, cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

“Oh! Do you wanna see what your present is from me?” you ask with a huge grin on your face. The movie is already halfway through; he wasn’t expecting anything from you at all. Having you in his arms is as good enough present as is.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything, baby. It’s my job to get you presents.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I got you something! Can you close your eyes?”

A quick smile flashes across his face before he closes his eyes. “Okay, m’ready.”

You lean back from his hold and lift up your hoodie just enough to show off the ink. “Open!”

Carmen’s eyes go as wide as saucers when he sees his handwriting on your body—tattooed like that forever. “Holy shit—no fucking way you did that,” he says, just a little louder than a whisper. His hand comes up to your rib cage, letting his thumb trace lightly over the “C” that’s still covered in second skin. “Baby…”

“Do you like it? Do you like your present?”

Carmy shows you just how much he likes it by fucking your brains out right there on the couch. He’s relentless, hips slamming into you at a furious pace. He keeps one hand on your rib cage nearly the entire time, thumb rubbing over it idly.

He can’t keep his lips off of you, muttering filth in between kisses to your face, lips, and neck.

“Got me on you forever—you have no idea what that fucking does to me.”

“Love you so fuckin’ much—love this tattoo so fuckin’ much.”

“Going to have to get one for you next. How ‘bout right on my hip? Hmm?”

“Always been mine, baby—now you just got something to show it.”

“Oh, you like that don’t you? Having something to show who you belong to?”

“Can fucking feel how close you are. Let go baby, been such a good fucking girl for me.”

Let’s just say the tattoo is the best gift Carmy has ever received and he’s a bit of a sappy mess afterwards. He just loves you so very much, and is a little bit jealous you though of getting a tattoo for him before he got one for you.

He makes an appointment the next day to get your initials tattooed on his hip. It may or may not be at the spot you always kiss him before sucking him off.

[fierceawakening]

I'm going to be kind of a dick here too and say "what is the goal here?"

Because, while I think it is important to be visibly anti-Nazi (or whatever), I think where we choose to be visible can matter.

Years and years ago, long before Trump was anything but a weird racist ranting about Obama's birth certificate, I joined some leftist groups I now feel were high control and not very effective.

And they said... well not this exact thing, as this sounds like it's more about friend groups than family. And what they said was things like "if one 80 year old can understand not to be prejudiced, your uncle Jim is making a choice to be. And if you don't speak up, you're making a choice to let him be."

So I was at a family gathering, and my old relatives were talking, and there was a long history of Greek communities and Jewish communities having tension when they were young, and they said some things about Jews, using Greek terms that... well, I don't know if they were slurs or just "Jew" or whatever, but I found it weird and uncomfortable coupled with what they were saying (the thing about how Jews see themselves as "the chosen people" and this makes them do arrogant things, IIRC.)

I got upset, I said so, I stormed out.

The result of this was not my family members changing their minds or softening their rhetoric. The result of this was family gossip about how I'd been radicalized and there was something wrong with me.

It changed nothing, and some of these people died before I saw them again and had a chance to have a conversation about it. I still feel sad that some of these people may have died thinking I was their enemy, since I didn't really explain (or think, at the time, that I SHOULD explain) that I was saying "please don't do that" and not "I despise you utterly."

So... I think stands like the one I took, in public and loudly, CAN be good politics. But they're theater.

Who's the audience for the theater?

If it's the prejudiced person and they're deep enough in their beliefs they'll just deem you a Karen and look confused in the general direction of nice people.

If it's other people around in the public space, THAT can matter. But if you can, you should make sure that they heard the Nazi-ing that precipitated you calling everyone's attention to your comment or your flouncing. That helps ensure that people know why you considered it serious enough to call attention.

If it's your own conscience, that's okay too. But bear in mind that the universe is not always just, and people may just think you're being dramatic.

Especially if in your family or friend group, you're The Loud Leftist, as I was at the time.

Again, not saying don't do it. It's often needed. But do consider: is this something you will want to have done even if it bombs and no one sees the intent behind what you did?

If the answer is yes, THEN do it.

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Jealous

Sophia lafortaza x katseye!6thmember!freader

Sypnosis: You had gotten a new hair style, now to sophia, it felt like the world was against her and everyone wanted you

Warning: a lot of jealousy, sophia is possessive as hell, swearing, Anything else I might miss

You had gone out a few hours ago, not telling anyone where or to do what. It caused you to receive some rather questioning looks but no one really liked into it, soon going back to doing their own things as you exited the kats dorm, telling them you'll be back by nightfall.

You got back relatively early, earlier than even you expected. You twist the keys and step in the house, silence engulfing the living room before you even close the door. All six other members staring, reactions kind of hard ro make out, except for Manon and Dani who's Jaws are basically on the floor.

You'd come back home with a platinum blonde wolf cut. You chuckled a bit nervously as you close the door and walk further into the house.

"OH MY GOOOD you look soo good" Dani practically squells as she rises from her spot on the couch and runs to you, fingers threading through your hair as she inspects it. Everyone but Sophia soon follows, bombarding you with questions and compliments.

Your eyes drift and meet Sophia's despite everyone else's attention being on you. Her face is neutral but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something you can't quite pinpoint.

The girls hover around you like, as Sophia would describe it, moths attracted to light. They stay close the rest of the day, touching you hair in every living moment the get the chance. Manon even took some pictures and posted them on weverse and Instagram

The fans, as always, were going feral. This is normal for all of them, but for some reason, Sophia didn't like it one bit. You got new hair so what? Sure you look very good right, very, very good but didn't give everyone the right to fawn over you like that.

And the next few days proved to be even worse. You gained more traction and that just meant more thirsty comments and fans shipping you with anything that breathes.

Sophia hasn't spoken about it, and hod forbid she does. She's always praised herself for not being the jealous one, so if she expresses her feelings for this shel never hear the end of it.

Anytime one of the members commented on your hair, she felt like telling them to get their hands off you. Whenever a stylist spent too long "fixing" you hair she wanted to curse them out, but she kept herself and her temper in check.

Buy today it was different. You guys had just finished a music bank performance and were with Jaehyun and Eunchae who were mcing.

You and Eunchae were close due to you being onlyva year older than her. "So n/n, you have new hair now, it looks nice" She says with her cheeky smile. "Thanks eunchae-yah" replying with a smile that mirrored hers was probably a mistake. Because that's what led to you being dragged to Sophia's dressing room after the recording was done.

"What the hell was that?" Sophia asks, her voiced laced with venom as she stares at you. "What was what?" You ask clueless, you've never seen Sophia like this, it's scary, hot, but very scary.

"Fucking flirting with other idols now that you have new hair" She almost yells, keeping herself calm, just slightly. That's when it clicked for you, she was jealous.

You walk closer to her, placing your hands on either side of her waist. "Soph, baby, are you jealous?" You ask, searching her face for any underlying emotions. "Jealous" she scoffs "don't get too full of yourself" she huffs with her arms crossed, eyes looking everywhere but you

You place a gentle kiss to her lips, which causes her to look back at you. "Sophia, you do know I love only you right" you state with a soft smile. "I like no one else bit you ok?" You pause, making sure she understands the deepness of your words "I'll tell the girls to stop touching my hair so much if it'll appease you" you search her face, looking for any hint of anger left.

Her face softens, tho having a small pout as she nods. You smile in responds, placing another lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you ok? No one can change that." You whisper with your forehead resting on hers.

The trip back to the dorm was peaceful, holding Sophia's hand while she rests her head on your shoulder was the best outcome you could've asked for after her previous feelings. And unluckily for Sophia, yoonchae had been eavesdropping and told all the members.

The next few days were filled with teasing but Sophia didn't mind for the most part, the girls stopped touching you a lot and fans soon calmed down on the swooning. She could be jealous but you love her either way, and you would make sure she knew that she was the only one you'll love.