Arcane Characters Find Out You Haven't Had Your First Kiss Yet

⋆✮⋆.˚Karlach ⋆✮⋆.˚:

Drabbles:

⟢Karlach x f!reader x Minthara⟢

⟢ Jealous?⟢

⟢Karlach x Werewolf! gf ⟢

⟢Compromising position ⟢

⟢Karlach x Bard!reader⟢

⟢ Reacting to You Having a Child ⟢

⟢Shapeshifter !⟢

⟢Soft Moments⟢

⟢Surprise kiss!⟢

⟢No more revivify for you⟢

⟢Karlach x Aasimar!reader⟢

⟢Jealousy, Jealousy ⟢

⟢Beach⟢

⟢Sibling Reunion ⟢

⟢All you feel is RAGE⟢

⟢Kindapped by Orin⟢

⟢Ass handed to you⟢

⟢Ladies x transfem!reader⟢

⟢Silly Sacrifice ⟢

⟢You Spin Me Right Round⟢

⟢Hell hath no fury like an Aasimar scorned⟢

⟢Don't threaten the pregnant lady⟢

⟢Sadness creeps in⟢

⟢Scratch me up⟢

⟢Squirt NSFW⟢

⟢Bigger brood than expected⟢

⟢Broken Oath⟢

⟢Fireball⟢

⟢Fireball pt 2⟢

⟢Fall for you (Aasimar!reader)⟢

⟢Here for you⟢

⟢As an auntie/mother⟢

⟢Got you!⟢

⟢Inexperienced⟢

⟢Overstimulation NSFW⟢

⟢Deadly Duo⟢

⟢Opened my Heart⟢

⟢General fluff⟢

⟢All too much⟢

⟢The Orin Dilemma⟢

⟢Not on my watch⟢

⟢Gentle Giant⟢

⟢Not your tent⟢

⟢Fainting ⟢

⟢Calming Kisses⟢

⟢Druid tattoos⟢

⟢Your blood on my hands⟢

⟢My Oath⟢

⟢Can't walk after a night of passion⟢

⟢Lost horn⟢

⟢What she did to you⟢

⟢Aasimar tav Drabble⟢

⟢Family Rejection⟢

⟢Karlach x plus!reader| Drive me wild⟢

⟢Touching Foreheads⟢

⟢Tiny Tav⟢

⟢Menzoberranzen⟢

⟢Revived⟢

⟢Lean on me⟢

⟢Tune ups⟢

⟢Ersatz eye⟢

⟢I'm Mother?⟢

⟢Opened mind⟢

⟢Turn ons⟢

⟢Never again, babe!⟢

⟢What a voice⟢

⟢I went too far⟢

⟢Adopted by The In-laws ⟢

⟢Welcome Karlach (Aasimar Tav)⟢

⟢Your Turn, Babe⟢

⟢Hand in Hand⟢

⟢Jealous of a plushie⟢

⟢A Poetic Attempt⟢

⟢Big Tatas⟢

⟢The Greatest Beast⟢

⟢Favourite Beast⟢

⟢Dhampiric Revelations⟢

⟢Proposal⟢

⟢Tinkering till I Bleed⟢

⟢Thinking the BG3 Ladies are Cheating on You⟢

⟢Family Life (Stepchild series)⟢

⟢Kaleidoscope Eyes⟢

⟢Druidic Tendencies ⟢

⟢Massage⟢

⟢Astral-Touched Tadpole⟢

⟢Positive Reinforcement (Durge)⟢

⟢Fierce Protector⟢

⟢Halloween⟢

⟢The World Is Ours⟢

⟢The Life We Build⟢

.𖥔 ݁ ˖BG3 Ships Masterlist𖥔 ݁ ˖

Could I request firefighter!Sevika HCs or a Drabble? She’d be so hot 🥵

sorry the reqs are taking so long! I’m in the middle of my finals rn, so bear with me for like another week or so ❤️‍🩹

I wholeheartedly agree anon and have been thinking about firefighter!sev since @kissingmilfs fic bc omggggg

-

❀ does daily pushups in your bedroom because she found you staring once and now wants to make sure you can see her workout as often as possible

❀ adding onto that, she will for sure tease you and flex her arms cockily

❀ will also be picking you up either bridal style or over her shoulder when she sees fit (which is a lot more than necessary - but you don’t complain)

❀ ADORES coming home to a hot meal. whether you stay at home or work full time, and whether you make dinner every night or once a month, she will NEVER take it for granted

❀ bonus points if you cook food from her culture - she’ll legit fall to her knees

❀ doesn’t take anything for granted actually. being a firefighter she sees a lot of loss, so she feels very privileged for everything she has

❀ makes sure to tell you this + how lucky she is to have found someone like you pretty much daily

❀ I feel like firefighter!sev is just the biggest softie

❀ like “Sevika ‘I Love My Wife’ Arcane” type shit

❀ is the type of romantic to kiss the back of your hand

NSFW

❀ uses her strength to her advantage in bed

❀ even though she’s usually gentle and sweet, she knows how to fuck

❀ like…FUCK

❀ like this woman will have you screaming, legs shaking, can’t walk the next day

❀ but she’s great with aftercare <3

❀ big fan of edging and overstim but cracks easily

❀ for sure has a praise kink and can get off just from pleasing you + encouragement

-

(also currently thinking of your kid running around giggling in sev’s helmet that’s far too big for their head)

cw: sub-bottom vi. fem-top reader. mild age gap (vi is older than you). strap-on referred to as cock.

synopsis: you can’t stay away from your best friend’s older sister.

you tell yourself that it’s just a fleeting crush, one that will fade with time, but it never does—not when vi ruffles your hair in passing, or when she drapes one of her strong arms around your shoulders, or when she teases you in that low, knowing voice that makes heat coil in your belly.

then, the line you swore you’d never cross fades into obscurity—because vi is lying beneath you in her childhood bed, keening every time your strap-on stabs into her cervix, whining high in her throat. her pussy squelches wetly—noisy and lewd—and the pink tufts of hair on her mound are damp from her own juices.

she looks veritably whorish.

of course, guilt lingers in the back of your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. powder will be pissed when she finds out—there’s no doubt about that—but honestly, how can she expect you to stay away from her sister when vi spreads her legs so eagerly for you? when her little hole is so needy for your cock? this was inevitable, really.

“hnnghh! ohhh, shit—haaah!” she pants as you rock your hips.

vi’s childhood bedroom is dusty and obsolete—neglected ever since she moved out. the worn fabric of her (embarrassingly juvenile) spider-man sheets clings to damp skin, except you hardly notice it; all you can focus on is vi—her rosy cheeks, her blown pupils, her trembling muscles. violet, violet, violet.

surely this must be a dream, because there’s no way you’re actually fucking your best friend’s big, bad older sister—turning her into a mewling kitten on your cock. but it’s real; you can feel it with the her calloused hands grip onto your shoulders, trying to keep herself tethered, as if she needs comfort with the way you’re bullying her pussy.

god, her cunt smells ripe, it’s glistening with arousal—she’s your very own forbidden fruit.

winding your hips back, you groan at the way vi’s pussy is clinging onto your strap. it’s rather adorable that she has such a desperate little cunt. who would’ve guessed that vi, all sharp edges and snarled confidence, would melt into such a docile sweetheart when she has her hole filled? when the right button is pressed against deep inside her gummy walls?  

her cheap, rickety twin-bed slams against the wall with each thrust, loud and jarring like the bang of a gunshot. “unghh! not so rough, fuck—“ vi gasps.

jeez, vi is ridiculous, acting as if you don’t know exactly what she needs. if anything, she needs it rougher; you’re being far too tender. still, it’s cute and mildly humorous when vi acts like her pussy isn’t desperate for you, like you don’t know how to fuck her correctly, as if you don’t know her body better than she does. it’s evident that you’re the only one able to fill her cunt just right—scratching the itch that she, herself, can’t even reach.

“shut up,” you say, palm clasping over her mouth. “you don’t want your sister to hear us, right?”

you can feel the way her nose crinkles like a bunny’s underneath your hand. a flicker of guilt crosses over her face as she remembers the weight of her lust, the delicious wrongness of this entire situation, and how awful she is for wanting you anyway.

“fuck, can you not bring—unghhh—bring that up r-right now?” vi says, muffled. then she keens when the pad of your thumbs finds her clit, pressing down with perfect, punishing precision.

“relax, vi. just focus on how deep i am inside you, how good i’m making you feel. let go for me, yeah?” you coo, and vi whimpers like a stray dog—big, blue puppy eyes and all.

still, despite how wrong this all is, a dark thrill coils in your chest as you watch vi’s internal struggle—how she tries so hard to resist your temptations, clings to the idea of being a good big sister—but vi’s body always betrays her in the end, and her pussy abruptly paints your abdomen in her saccharine squirt.

taglist: @2ftall @jinxedbambi @mxchi-mxxn @maddiluvsu @just4jinx @rhian88

grayson x housewife!reader

pairing! grayson x housewife!reader

about! tonight you made an extra special dinner for your wife, and you simply couldn’t wait for her to come home! but… when she didn’t come home at her usual time, you began to worry…

cw! nothing really (i mean unless you are SUPER duper sensitive!)

word count! 507

an! sorry this took a while to post, lowkey procrastinated writing this…. but it’s here now, hope this is my grayson redemption arc😔

today was simply going to be perfect! it was always perfect, really. this was your domain, sanctuary, your home. you were the “mighty housewife”, as grayson so lovingly put it. you loved cooking, cleaning, sewing, that was simply your love language. and tonight you thought you nearly out-housewifed yourself. you set the table with table mats, utensils in neatly folded napkins with pink embroidery, the best plates in the house you never let anyone use. vanilla candles, champagne chilled in a bucket of ice, this was going to be a special night. was there anything inherently special about this day? not in particular. you just felt like it.

but apparently grayson didn’t get the telepathic message. everything was set up, dinner was meticulously arranged on the plate and served on the table, but there was no grayson! maybe you just started cooking earlier to account for the desserts, perfect explanation. still… sitting at the dinner table with your head in your hands, your eyes kept flickering to the clock on the stove. you tapped a rhythmless sound on your cheek, watching the numbers change.

5:10.

5:12.

5:17.

5:24… and on and on.

in an attempt to taper down your frustration, you grabbed both the plates and slipped them in the oven to keep the food warm.

you let out a chuckle, because of the irony of course? because right when you put in the plates, grayson is going to come in the door right… now! now? she’s not here.

this simply just doesn’t make sense! grayson is never late, she even says “i leave 4 minutes early to get home at the perfect time for dinner.” what if something happened? what if she went out on an assignment and some… gang of criminals kidnapped her and the other officers? what if somehow she got hurt and is in the hospital at critical condition?! well now you don’t care if you technically worked yourself up, now you had to make sure your wife is okay! you paced back and forth in front of the pink rotary phone, contemplating if you should pick up the phone and turn the dial to call the hospital.

just then, the phone on the way to your ear, you heard the sound of keys fumbling with the lock… and grayson came in. a sheepish, out of breath grin on her face. huge bouquet of buttercups, white peonies and baby’s breath.

the phone fell from your hand as you stood in shock, before running nearly full speed and tackled her. your arms flew around her neck, rocking back and forth as you embraced.

“easy, love—im here, im here. im sorry i worried you, the florist was backlogged with orders, even though i put in the order weeks ago.” grayson lifted the bouquet, explaining everything with a look that said “please forgive me.”

“you… you got these for me? oh, you—!” you sniffled, happy tears welling up. “your lucky i love you!”

and you kissed her, gentle, loving, and overall… happy.

Naurrrrrr

I keep seeing Sevika with glasses

So here this

• Denial Is a River in Zaun, Sevika is 1000% convinced her eyes are fine. “I don’t need glasses, you’re just blurry,” she says while squinting directly at your forehead instead of your eyes.

• Hot Girl Nearsightedness, She tries to play it off like she’s intimidating when she’s really just trying to figure out if she’s glaring at Silco or a lamp. You once caught her threatening a coat rack.

• You teasingly call her “Granny Vika” every time she squints or holds something at arm’s length. She grumbles and grabs your ass in retaliation. “Still strong enough to put you over my knee, sweetheart.”

• She Hates the Exam, You finally drag her to an eye exam. She tries to flirt her way out of it. until you sit in her lap and whisper, “If you behave, I’ll let you keep them on while you wreck me later.”

• First Time With Glasses, She puts them on and blinks a few times. “Shit… is that what you look like?” now she won’t stop staring at you like you’re the Mona Lisa with thighs.

• She only wears them around the house, mostly shirtless, reading a book while lounging on the couch. “Ma’am… you can’t just look like someone’s sexy literature professor and expect me to focus.” You tell her. She adjusts glasses slowly “Then don’t.”

• You once walked in on her wearing her glasses, hair messy, tank top half-riding up, reading and you just melted.

• Glasses Stay On, First time you kissed her while she was wearing them, you fogged them up so bad she had to take them off. Now she keeps lens wipes by the bed. She calls it “battle prep.”

• Ultimate Weakness, You grab her glasses and wear nothing else. She stops whatever she’s doing—mid-sentence, mid-sip, mid-growl—and just stares. “…Goddamn. Come here. I can’t even be mad.”

you cannot tell me this isn't just Vi's life as. Whole 😭😭😭bby girl went through so much this reminds me of herrrr what I feel like she deserves to say out loud

I really want to take care of her sooo badddd 😭🖐️ give her all the love she deserves!! She deserves princess treatment!! She deserves all the hugs and kisses!! She deserves tasty home cooked meals!!she is such under appreciated character by the creators.......

Omw to ven in c.ai

Headcanons

Sevika x Motherly!Reader

When she says she's cold even while you're half asleep, you get up all the way to adjust the duvet so it covers her fully and sometimes even make sure she's double layered to ensure she's warm

You make her tea all the time while she's home so she doesn't get a chance to drink alcohol, although she acts annoyed about it— she knows you're just looking out for her

You clean up after her regularly and nag at her for being messy, Sevika kisses you to shut you up but the moment she pulls back you're back on your rambling

You yell at her for getting hurt but you're worried deep down, Sevika often doesn't say a lot (she knows you're worried) but she tries to reassure you that everything's alright

Sevika tries to quit smoking for you because she sees how it hurts you

Sevika sees the way you view little kids and plans on giving you some of your own once Zaun is finally in a good position, however will always refuse to speak of it

You force her to have a self care routine, Sevika thinks it's useless but oh well

You don't let her boss you around, it's quite the other way around really. Although, Sevika will get mad if that ruins her public image and you know it so you don't do that in public. Behind closed doors, shes a puppy awaiting your commands

You rub her back when she feels tense and give her a massage. Sevika enjoys it silently and barely will show verbal affection but the way she holds you close, you don't need words.

Even after you both have fights, you cut up fruits for her while she's working and shove the plate on her study desk while she's working on her mechanical arm. Sevika smirked after you leave.

Sevika likes it when you oil and massage her scalp before hair wash days. But she'd rather die than admit it— it would make her look soft.

The first time you kissed her scars and told her they were beautiful, Sevika didn't believe your words. But eventually, seeing how much you just trace and kiss them, she's come to terms with it.

You always make sure she's well-fed and ensure she's not living off of cigarettes and alcohol

Sevika is somehow good at chores and she helps you around the house during her off days. She follows you around though and won't agree to do separate chores because "you could get hurt" but you don't believe her. You just know she wants to spend time with you

You slap sense into Sevika when she is too high on Shimmer

After hours

NOTE: i don't think this was my greatest work, but it is something. please go easy on me, it's been a while since i wrote 😩🙏. also, it got angsty, i kept listening to "Let down" by Radiohead, so ummm... yeah... also happy 200!! i <3 you all so much!! xoxo 🥰💕

this is the inspo for this (i changed some bits so it fits better)

synopsis: oldergf!Sevika doesn't believe she's good enough for you, but does her insecurity run so deep that she's not willing to be with you anymore?

CW: feminine reader, angsty, modern setting, no usage of y/n, not edited, age gap (reader is twenty-five and sevika is forty-one), mentions of alcohol and smoking (not detailed), power dynamic (sevika is technically reader's boss but not directly), office romance, sevika is whipped for you (like really bad)

word count: 4 000+

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika was the best gift that life could give you. Whenever you were with her, it felt too good to be true. Being with her made you realize that nothing could ever compare to her or any experience you've had in the past. She was older than you, but that didn't stop love from blooming.

She didn't mean to fall for you. She did everything in her power not to, but as soon as you smiled at her and thanked her for helping you with directions, she felt she had no choice. After that, she kept seeing you around. She hadn't realized that you would be the new hire at work. If she had known that, maybe she would have done more to prevent her heart from beating for you. Thankfully, you worked in a different department, which helped Sevika focus on her work. But it was as if you were following her, as though you knew she was falling for you and that she was resisting you. Every time you walked past her office to go to your cubicle, she savoured the view, memorizing the outfit you wore and how you styled your hair. She liked every hairstyle on you, but her favourite was when it was down. Sevika was often spellbound by the way it bounced when you walked away. She learned your schedule, and when she discovered that you liked to arrive at the office earlier than everyone else, just so you could settle in, she began to come in earlier than necessary; she didn't need to be there in the mornings, but she did so just to catch a glimpse of you. Sevika knew she couldn't have you, but that's what she liked about you.

You have kind eyes. Full of curiosity about the world, about her. The first time she had gotten to you was at an after-work event. It was a successful quarter, and to celebrate, everyone had made plans to go to a bar, the Last Drop. Sevika wasn't planning on going but was convinced after hearing that you would be present as well. Silco, her business partner, didn't question her about her sudden change of mind. He was simply entertained.

You were making your rounds, talking to everyone and catching up. Everyone seems to love you, and honestly, who wouldn't? You were so kind and sweet. You baked for the office, even providing a gluten-free option for those who wanted it. If someone confided in you about late work, you would offer to help them, and you simply wanted nothing in return. You were an angel, and Sevika had never wanted anyone more.

Sevika stayed put by the bar, talking to Vander and Silco, catching a glimpse of you here and there. By the second hour, the two men had grown sick of her longing, lovestruck stares.

"Why don't you just go up to her? Talk to her instead of staring at her." Vander suggested, giving her a knowing look. The trio has known each other for a while, going to college together. 

"I can't," Sevika groaned into her hands.

"And why not?" Now it was Silco's turn to tease the scary lady of the office.

"Because… that's just inappropriate," Sevika stated the obvious, but she knew deep down she was just using that as an excuse. She technically wasn't your boss, but the boss's boss. Still, Sevika wasn't one to mix business and pleasure. For the past two decades, Sevika has put her life and soul into this company she's built with Silco. She knows nothing but work. As she grew older, she realized she needed to set boundaries with herself. No one was there to take care of her, so she needed to. Work ended as soon as she left the building. No matter how important it was, she's made it clear not to call or email her after hours.

"Besides, I don't think she would be very interested in an old lady." Even with the sheepish smile on her face, Sevika's tone of voice was serious, meaning she didn't want to be pressed on. Vander stirs the conversation elsewhere, now asking about how it was nearing 20 years since the establishment of the company. 

The bar has gotten louder than what Sevika would have liked. Vander occupied the bar, fixing drinks while Silco was now entertaining a group of employees. Her leather jacket was now slung over the back of her chair, the white tee clinging to her body, and her muscles were on full display. Despite her age, Sevika was still a very fit woman. A couple of silver rings splayed on her thick fingers, she nurses a drink that’s gone warm while the ice melts in defiance of the glass. She’s halfway through weighing if it’s time for her to take her leave. There wasn’t much of a point in staying; she had already played a couple of rounds of cards with the others that she had promised. As she plans her exit, you decide to sit beside her. 

Not near her. Not across the bar where she can pretend she doesn’t see you.

Beside her.

Sevika’s fingers tighten around her glass. 

You glance over, bright-eyed and a little flushed from whatever conversation you peeled away from. “I didn’t expect you to stay this long in the night.” You say, voice light, like you had already talked before. Like, Sevika wasn’t your boss’s boss, who people usually avoided unless something was going wrong, so she could be the one to break the news to Silco. 

She doesn’t smile, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she doesn’t trust herself. 

“Didn’t expect to stay this late,” she mutters, eyes fixated on her drink, like it was the most interesting sight she had ever seen. “Thought I could finally make my quick escape.” 

You giggle - and fuck, it’s angelic. “Guess I ruined that plan.”

“You have a habit of doin’ that?” The words come out before she can stop them. Too casual. Too easy. 

You arch a brow, “ruining plans?”

“Making it hard to leave.”

She sees how your expression falters, just a flicker, before you giggle again - a curiosity blooming within. This was the first time you were talking to one of the big bosses, and you didn’t expect it to be like this. You weren’t going to complain, though. She swears under her breath and quickly finishes her drink. 

This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. She shouldn’t be looking at you like this. There are unspoken lines, and she’s made a career out of respecting them - keeping her hands clean even when her knuckles are split open. And yet here you were, with a soft curiosity in your voice, like she’s a puzzle you want to figure out. Like she’s not someone who’s already lived too many lives to count.

“You’ve been with the company for a while, right?” You ask, not realizing your proximity is a problem. Sevika noticed but decides against doing anything about it. This was probably the only time she could be this close to you; she will savour it. 

She’ll relish your lavender perfume, the way your dress was snug, accentuating your waist. Your hair had loose curls just the way she liked. Sevika sees the curve of your smile and the sight of your dimples, making her stomach twist in a way it hasn’t in years.

“Longer than you’ve been drinking,” she says dryly.

You make a face, “Ouch. Was that a dig at me?”

“A warning,” she mutters. “You need to be careful talking to me like this.”

You blink. The teasing fades, confusion creeping in its place. “Like what?”

Sevika exhales slowly, jaw tightening. You’re not doing anything wrong. She knows that, and it’s not like she’s acted on anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at her like she’s just some stranger at a bar, and not someone who knows exactly where you sit in the company hierarchy. She knows how good you are with people. How you brought tea to the receptionist when she was sick and found a sincere compliment for everyone you walked passed. You have no idea what you’re doing to her. 

“I’m your boss’s boss,” she plainly states, each word like it’s being dragged from her throat. “It’s… inappropriate.”

You tilt your head, lips pressed together like you’re trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words. Questioning if this was her sense of humour. 

Except, she wasn’t joking. 

She’s trying not to fall.

“Oh.” You responded after a moment. Then, gentler, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She knows. Of course you didn’t. You’re just the young, sweet and friendly new hire at work.

“I know,” Sevika acknowledges, looking back down at her glass. “Doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Your brows furrow. She can see the puzzle pieces trying to fit together behind your eyes, but she won’t give you enough to complete the picture. She can’t. It’s not right. 

She’s not right.

Still, you don’t leave. That’s the part that gets her. 

You were supposed to leave. Yet, you stayed and ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, feet swinging just barely above the ground from your seat. Instead, you talk about a project you were assigned to, about how cold the office gets, so you have to bring an extra cardigan, and about a stupid joke someone made in the elevator today. Sevika simply listens, occasionally grunting in acknowledgement, but not letting herself relax. Not until the end, when your glass is empty and your eyes linger on her a little longer than they should. You slide off the stool and turn to her. “You know,” thinking of your words carefully, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

Sevika looks at you, sharp and still. Her heart clenches. She shouldn’t. 

You smile - not flirty, not even expectant. Just… warmth.

“But maybe I’ll let you ask,” you add. “When it’s appropriate.”

And with that, you walk off and find your colleagues that you were meant to drive home for the night. Only to leave Sevika alone at the bar, heart pounding against ribs that suddenly feel too small. 

Sevika doesn’t sleep that night. She tells herself it’s the whiskey. Maybe she left the bar too late, or something she ate didn’t sit right. But deep down, she knows it’s you. It could only be you. The memory of you - your smile, the way your voice dipped low when you said you’d let her ask, like it was some kind of permission. 

And maybe it was.

She tosses and turns, constantly catching a glimpse of her phone, debating whether or not she should go for it. In the end, she decides against it.

Three days pass. She sees you once, she was stuck in a morning meeting while you were on the other side of the glass, sitting at your desk with headphones in, eyes narrowing at the screen in front of you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You don’t notice her looking at you. Maybe it was for the best. She’s done many things in life that toe the line, but this? This was where she drew the line. 

Friday hits, and Sevika’s in her office after hours, finalizing details of a new deal. The building was quiet, there was a stillness as the cleaning staff hadn’t even made it to this floor yet. Her phone buzzes. A calendar reminder she never turned off. 

Coffee with HR, 4 pm - cancelled.

And for some reason, that’s what does it.

She picks up her phone, thumb hesitating over your name. You’re saved in her contacts as just your first name - no emoji, no last initial, no indication of what you mean to her beyond professionalism. 

It takes three drafts. Finally, she sends a simple message.

You still up for that coffee?

Not bothering to wait for a reply. She locks her screen and throws her phone down, heart hammering like she just pulled the trigger on something she can’t take back.

The coffee shop is quiet. It was one of those corner places where no one wears a uniform, and all the pastries are homemade and slightly burnt. A place she wouldn’t be caught dead in. You were already there, tucked in a booth near the back, hands wrapped around a mug like you’re holding onto something precious. You spot her before she spots you - but not by much. She sees the smile playing on your lips, soft and surprised, and her chest goes tight. She slowly walks over, not wanting to ruin the moment by rushing. 

“Didn’t think you’d come,” you commented, voice low enough to carry.

“Neither did I,” Sevika admits, sliding into the seat across from you. There was a coffee already there, waiting just for her. You offer her half of your muffin without asking. She declines. You expected that.

There’s silence, but it’s not an awkward one. Just… suspended. Like both of you are waiting for the first move that’ll tip the scales.

“Still inappropriate?” You ask, sipping your coffee. 

“Janna, yes,” Sevika mumbled, rubbing a hand down her face. “You have no idea.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, what changed?”

She looks at you for a long time. Long enough that it starts to weigh on you. Then, she says, “I got tired of pretending it didn’t matter.” 

You blink, the answer catching you off guard. Not because of what she said, but how it was so Sevika. Blunt. Honest. Gruff and vulnerable in the same breath.

“Does it matter?” You questioned.

She doesn’t answer right away. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed, her jaw tight, not with anger, but restraint.

“It shouldn’t,” she finally says. “But it does.”

You nod, eyes on her like you’re searching for something. “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not a kid.”

“I know that as well.”

Your voice dips quieter, softer. “So maybe we just… have coffee. No expectations. No titles. Just two people who might like each other.”

Sevika huffs a breath, something between a laugh and surrender.

“Dangerous words, kid.”

“I’m not scared of you, Sev.”

That gets her.

She looks at you. Really looks at you - and it hits her all over again how goddamn doomed she is. Because you’re right here, giving her a chance she knows she doesn’t deserve. 

But she wants it anyway, and she’ll do anything to be worthy of you. 

She lifts her coffee and clinks her mug gently against yours. “One coffee.”

You grin. “One for now.”

And she’s fucked. 

She’s smiling now, too. 

It had now become a routine. Not the kind that dulls over time, but the kind that settles into the bones like warmth after a long winter. It started with a shared elevator ride after work. You would wait by Sevika’s office, leaning against the wall with a knowing smile, and Sevika would pretend she hadn’t been watching the clock all day, would grab her coat with forced indifference. 

Then came the walk through the lobby, shoulders brushing, conversations stitched with quiet laughs. The world outside the office felt muted when you two were together. 

Now it was you in her apartment. Sevika would cook most nights. You always insisted on helping, but she would only let you cut the vegetables and keep her company. You two would eat by the window, legs tangled under the table, with the city lights flickering like background music. Later that night, on the couch, Sevika would read while you’d lie across her lap, playing with the hem of her sleeve. There was always a moment, just one, where Sevika would look down at you, and everything in her chest would clench so tightly it almost hurt. A mix of awe and fear. A feeling she hadn’t let herself want in years.

Half asleep and curled against her, you mumbled, “You look at me like I’m going to disappear.” To you, it was simple teasing, but that summed up what Sevika has always thought. 

Sevika didn’t respond. Just stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head like she was trying to promise something, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it. 

It all began to unravel slowly.

Sevika found herself staring a little too long when you would laugh with a co-worker. She started pulling away after kisses. She lingered in the kitchen too long and tried to avoid dinner overall. She had snapped, once, over something small, you were late to dinner. Sevika apologized immediately, but it clung to her like guilt.

She was too old for this. Too jaded. Too experienced in the art of being left. You were still young and bright. Sevika loved that about you, but part of her felt like she smudged all that warmth. 

So, one quiet night in her apartment. The kind of quiet that settled deep, only the soft clinking of ice in your glass and the low hum of a jazz record spinning lazily in the background. You were on her couch, legs tucked under you, reading through one of Sevika’s books. You wore an oversized shirt, which hangs off your shoulder, paired with flared leggings. The sight of you wasn’t anything new, but it was still hard for Sevika to believe that this was her reality now. 

Sevika stood by the kitchen counter, leaning her weight on one arm, a half-finished drink in the other hand. Her hair was down tonight, and the sight of it sent something warm and stupid fluttering in your chest. Neither of you had talked much since dinner. Not out of discomfort, just that easy silence you’d started to fall into more and more. She didn’t fill space unless it needed filling, and you… You were getting good at listening to what she didn’t say.

Then, out of nowhere.

“I think you should stop coming here.” 

You flinched from your spot, not sure if you had heard her right. You looked at her from your seat, and she looked just as startled as you were. That quickly went away and was now replaced with a stoic expression. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. 

“This,” Sevika forces a steadiness into her voice. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to last. You should be with someone your age. One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking being with me. I’m not going to wait for that.” That last part came out quieter, almost like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth. 

“Are we really doing this now?” You raised a brow. 

She turns her gaze to where you were sitting. Tired eyes, scarred skin, that permanent weight she carried even when she wasn’t talking about it.

“You’re twenty-five,” she explained, like that was enough to understand. Like that should be the end of it. You stood, putting your book down on the coffee table, walking toward her slowly. “And you’re what? Walking away from this before I even get the chance to prove you wrong? So, I can end up with some clean-shaven corporate guy who has a dog and doesn’t smoke?”

She flinched. Just slightly. 

Sevika didn’t expect you to fight her on this matter. She underestimated how much you want this. She fights the little voice in her head telling her that she shouldn’t continue.

“I’ve seen how people look at us,” she mutters, turning away from you. “Like I’m dragging you down. Like you’re just… playing house until something better comes along.” 

You step back, “Is that what you think of me? That I would use you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Was this really the same person who held you at night? The woman who made sure you got home safe? The one who would look at you like you were the only thing that mattered because you were.

“Do you think of me so lowly?” 

“I’m protecting both of us.” Sevika bit her lip. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but if that’s what it took for you to realize that she’s not the woman you want, then so be it.

“You’re not,” you utter. “You don’t even want to try.” The frustration starts to build up, you run a hand through your hair, not believing what you’re hearing. There was a long pause, raw and aching.

“I’m not worth the fight for you… Am I?”

Sevika wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to declare you’re everything to her. That this could work out between you two. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

After a moment of processing, a realization that this is the path she wants for you. You gathered your things and left. You didn’t slam the door. There were no tears in your eyes, not yet at least. You simply walked out quietly, you knew that trying to stay would only make it worse. 

Weeks have gone by.

Sevika went home alone. No one sang in the car or made fun of her ‘old people’ music. She cooked for one. Nobody was there to help her with the dishes. She read books that didn’t hold her attention. Not a single soul was there to play with her hair and ask a million questions about her day. The apartment had grown too cold. 

You two would still see each other in the office. You would pass by her, being the cordial and polite person you were, you would smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. Sevika started avoiding you, purposely leaving early or staying as late as possible because anything was better than seeing you in pain. 

She’d lie awake at night, gripping what was once your side of the bed. She swears it still smells like you. Sometimes she’d reach over, pathetically, like muscle memory hadn’t caught up to heartbreak. 

The worst part was the silence. She missed your laugh because she completely missed the joke you made. The way you tried to speak Hindi, even though your pronunciation wasn’t the greatest, it was the fact that you tried. The way you looked at her like she was something good. 

It was late one night when Sevika broke. 

She stood outside your door, her heart thudding out of her chest like it had something to say before she did. She hesitated; it wasn’t fair that she was crawling back to you for something she broke off. She was a coward. About to turn back, the door swings open, and Sevika looks up to see you. 

You didn’t look surprised to see her. Just tired. 

Tired and lovely, and still hers, in some unspoken way.

Sevika cleared her throat, trying to gain some control of herself. “I was wrong. I got scared and in the end I’m the one that hurt you.”

You said nothing, but instead observed her. You watched the way her breath catches up to her. Her fingers fidgeted on her sides, trying to grab something but falling short. 

“I still think you deserve better than me,” Sevika went on. “But I also know that I’ve never wanted someone this much in my life.”

A pause.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

You studied her for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, you step aside and open the door wider. And there it was. The same doe eyes looking at her, the day she gave you directions. The soft smile playing on your lips. 

And this time, Sevika walks in. No fear and not one doubt in her mind.

Just hope.

okay this is my first edit ever so be nice