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rosewould · 2 years

Text

wingless angel; dsc

act i | act ii | final act 1k celebration masterlist

pairing; fuckboy!winwin x afab!reader

words; 7.2k

genre; estabished relationship, college au, ANGST, smut

warnings; DUBCON, toxic relationship, manipulation, sex in a theater, slut shaming (like actually), piv, getting caught, Sicheng is just really nasty okay

preface; this was hard to write, I feel so bad for MC. act iii will be less depressing I promise.

act ii ➻ in my head

Your silence was going on for far too long. Any longer and the only explanation would be you hiding or realizing something. It was a little bit of both. Why did you like Dong Sicheng?

Sicheng was one of those people who were cool in high school and college, when the average person cared less about how they were perceived. At least a little. You were no longer sweating in the middle of history class, surrounded by giggling popular kids and stressing about whether your limbs looked awkward. You weren’t an idiot, though. You realized that you were on the ground, along with the majority of the students on campus. Sicheng and everyone he associated with? Leisurely floating among the sun and the clouds, not even sparing a glance at anyone below.

All your life you felt insignificant. Like you could scream and no one would hear a sound. It never bothered you until it came to crushes, and walking into your university’s orientation gave you one of the most debilitating crushes yet.

There he was, vibrating at a different frequency. By this time, every crush would notice your eyes boring into the side of their head. Not Sicheng. He had never looked at you once throughout your first year. Your crushes didn’t last long. They’d end up angry about your constant staring and chew you out, or their friends would tease them into declaring their disdain for you. All of your crushes came crashing down in a huge fire, ending with you sobbing alone in your bedroom. With Sicheng it was strangely quiet.

Your second year, you got into a relationship with Kun. It distracted you for a moment. You quickly realized you’d receive no affection there. The summer after, you broke up with Kun. It was messy and draining. You felt like a zombie. Waking up at three in the afternoon, going to the library, staying there until it closed.

One night, you happened to glance to your right. That’s when you finally caught his eyes. You were locked into his gaze as he flashed you a smile.

“Hey.” Sicheng whispered, propping his head up with his palm.

“Hey.”

You looked calm, but you felt like you were floating. You must’ve had dark circles accompanied by some pretty defined bags, but that didn’t matter. He saw you. He was talking to you. That night was the first of many where you were shoved into a bookcase in the back corner of the library with Sicheng’s hungry lips everywhere your skin was exposed. You had new marks to show off daily. Kun’s disgusted glare at you from across the lecture hall was just a bonus. His words rang in your ears.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

Sicheng let the wings Kun continuously clipped flourish. He changed you for the better. The sad part was that people didn’t understand that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. He’s good to me.” You say, exasperated. They clearly stated this wouldn’t be an intervention.

“…Does he?” Aeri questions, skepticism evident on her face. With your body language growing more closed off by the second, she’s quick to expand on her question. “Sicheng is infamous for treating his girlfriends like shit.”

“That may be true, I’m not denying that, but who’s to say he hasn’t changed?” You cringe as soon as the words leave your mouth. You sound like every human who’s ever been in denial of their toxic relationship.

“I am. I am to say. Bro, he literally has a pattern of behavior. It’s not that he just vaguely treats them badly. First, he only goes for virgins. You know for a fact that’s a waving red flag.” Jimin speaks up, twice as annoyed as you are. Not an intervention your ass. You were supposed to watch a movie, are you a TV all of a sudden?

“Second, he always coerces them to fuck and makes a big deal out of “taking their innocence”. That’s waving red flag number two. Are you seriously not seeing these?”

“Woah, there was no coercion! It was a consensual exchange!” It’s not the most graceful, but you manage to avoid the question. No amount of beating around the bush could stop the question from seeping into your subconscious.

“Oh god, so you guys already had sex?” Minjeong whispers before they all give you a look of uneasiness. You groan.

“Yes! We, two consenting adults who have been in a relationship since the summer had sex! What’s so bad about that?” You erupt, defending yourself like a cornered defenseless animal.

“You really wanna know?” Jimin grits her teeth, becoming visibly restless.

“Jimin…” Minjeong rests her hand on her leg and pleads with her eyes. Jimin can’t see any of the three pairs of eyes begging her to be merciful, though.

“No, I wanna know. I asked, didn’t I?” You push hesitantly. Jimin is a friend, but you’ve seen what her words have done to others. Never would you have thought she’d aim at you. She wouldn’t…

“Fine. You wanna be stubborn? I can force you to see the reality of the situation-”

“Just say it already!”

“Why else would Sicheng choose you?!” Jimin shouts. Your mouth falls open, feeling as if her words knocked the wind out of you. The other three quickly work to patch up the wound she left behind.

“Jimin! What the hell?” Says Aeri before rushing to your side, pushing Jimin to the end of the couch.

“She didn’t mean that…” Minjeong soothes in a hushed voice.

“I think what she meant to communicate was that Sicheng was preying on… he was using how you see yourself against you.” Yizhuo attempts to cautiously diffuse the situation. You laugh dryly. All this time you thought your friends just happened to be much prettier than you are. Now you’re witnessing how they’ve always seen you.

“I-I’m gonna go.” You say shakily, standing from the couch. Everyone except Jimin tries to convince you to stay.

“Let me guess, you’re going to see him.” Jimin shakes her head at you. You don’t even spare her a glance.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Aeri glares at Jimin before looking back at you. “Please sit down, she should’ve never said that.”

“Go ahead! Keep babying her. See where it lands her.”

As tears threaten to spill you try to leave before you let her see you cry.

“Wait!” Minjeong grabs your arm. “Please, just hear us out. We only want what’s best for you.”

You pause before slipping your arm from her grasp. Staying there felt like a constant reminder of how you’ve been seen all your life. As you open the door Jimin yells after you one last time.

“At least answer this. Does he take you out on nice dates? Buy you nice things? Hell, does he even fucking compliment you? If not, how is he making you feel good?”

“H-he… of course he does!” You turn back, only to be faced with four rounds of skepticism.

“If the only way he makes you feel good is physical, you’re not his girlfriend. You’re a sex doll.”

Like pulling away from a fire before it scorches you, you retreat, slamming the door behind you.

What was the goal of that exchange? To make you feel like shit? To show you how pathetic they think you are? How could they, people you considered your friends?

As soon as Sicheng knocks on the door, you swing it open and rush to wrap your arms around him. You sob into his chest, waiting for the warmth of his embrace to consume you so you could distract yourself.

“What’s wrong?”

Fuck, his voice is so dry. In your frustration, all you can focus on is the rain pouring down beyond the eaves of your house. The overwhelming smell of drenched Earth and the dreary skies beyond Sicheng’s shoulders keep pulling you back to reality.

“My friends, they… really hurt me today.” You say quietly, feeling embarrassed of your overwrought emotions now. He pushes you away to smile down at you.

“Who cares what they think, remember?”

The guilty feeling in your chest was still there from the first time you said it, but it was fading quickly. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Good, now get dressed, I’m taking you out.”

A wide grin spreads across your face.

“Babe! Hurry up!” Sicheng whines, drawing out each word unnecessarily like a child. You giggle, watching yourself in the mirror as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup. You smile at your reflection, finally satisfied enough to show him.

“Okay! I’m done.” You yell as you open your bedroom door. Your lip quivers as you wait for his reaction. He glances over with a smile to match the one you failed to contain. You feel light fill your chest.

“I thought maybe you took too long, but we could probably sneak in a quickie and be on time.”

Your smile fades a bit more noticeably than you’d like. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks from the couch. You shrug, feeling stupid now. “Come on.” He says with a leery look. “Tell me.”

“It’s just… do you like it…” Your voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible.

“What, how you look?” The way he asks makes your expression sour further. Flat, no emotion. Almost like he was annoyed by being asked to consider your efforts. “Why? Did you wear this for me?”

You nod sheepishly. He exhales slowly through his nose before beckoning you closer. When you’re in reaching distance he pulls at the hem of your dress. “This is perfect.” He smirks before biting his lip. You smile back, a thank you right on the tip of your tongue before he speaks again.

“Easy access…” He trails off before flipping your dress up and revealing your lacy underwear. You gasp, pulling the fabric from his fingers.

“What pretty underwear.” He chuckles, pulling you onto his lap. Your heart is racing, and not because he’s being crude or getting you aroused. You’re completely, and utterly embarrassed. Every second you spent in your room agonizing over what clothes to wear and how much makeup to apply, you spent thinking of him. And all he’s worried about is how easy it’ll be to fuck you.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you consider his side. The two of you haven’t seen each other over the entire weekend since he was out of town. He’ll be back to normal after you have sex. Back to what you usually do…

“Babe.” Sicheng snaps you out of your thoughts. “Let’s just go now, okay?”

“Okay.”

He holds you by your waist, stopping to look closer at your face. You stare back confusedly. “D’you have on makeup?”

Look at you, jumping to conclusions and doubting your boyfriend. He’s taking you on a date for god’s sake. And now he’s recognizing the effort you put in for him. In his defense, maybe he couldn’t see from afar.

“Yeah, do you like it?” You ask hopefully, prying your heart to the over-exposed state it’s usually in.

“I mean, it’s fine, but we’re going to the movies. It’s gonna be dark.” He chuckles, looking at you like a silly child. He pats your ass before maneuvering you off of him.

“Let’s go.”

You were lost in thought the entire car ride. At least you were actually seeing a movie like you were promised. You fidget with your phone in your lap, popping it in and out of its case.

Couldn’t he at least have told me I looked pretty?

The thought brought about a tightness in your chest. You force yourself to look out of the window, trying to distract yourself from the rising unease.

“Are you okay?” Sicheng turns down the radio, removing a layer of distraction. You wouldn’t be able to stabilize your trembling voice so you just nod. He’s quiet for a moment, leaving the volume lowered to cause you just that much more suffering.

“Hey, uh, I forgot to tell you! I was talking to a couple girls last week,”

You could feel spite gnawing at your brain. Why must he insist on being so oblivious to how he makes you feel? Him being utterly dense was the favorable answer as opposed to something more purposeful. But that’s downright depraved, and it’s silly to even consider that. What would he gain?

A sex doll.

The thought flares up your anxiety tenfold. You hurriedly roll the window down and gasp in the air.

“They told me how good we looked together. You know, as a couple?”

You slowly turn to face the windshield before turning again to look at your boyfriend. He looks back at you, face painted in confusion.

“Her friend said she was jealous of what we have.” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk before concentrating on the road. You expected to see him crack an amused smile at that assertion. You wouldn’t blame him, you felt the same way. The devastating realization came when you were standing together in the mirror, checking out your matching costumes. He didn’t comment on it, but it was so obvious. Next to him, it was much more apparent just how unexceptional you were. It was like the main character standing next to an extra.

“Girls from our university said that?”

Sicheng laughing at your confusion rather than the statement about your relationship wasn’t adding up in your brain.

“Yeah. Why not?”

What were you going to do, tell him you thought the two of you didn’t match? All that would do is reveal your poor self-esteem. It’s pitiful, and would probably make him uncomfortable.

“Oh, nothing. That’s really sweet.” You say with phony nonchalance.

“It really is. It’s about time people start acknowledging how awesome we are.” He’s smug about it, but it was doing it for you. You smile over at him and he smiles back.

So when you get to the theater, you’re not pissed off that his hand makes its way under your skirt. You don’t scold him as he fucks his fingers into you. And you allow him to pull you onto his lap. You ignore that this was the reason you sat in the very back corner.

“Look at you,” He grunts in your ear as he haphazardly pushes your panties to the side. “being so nasty for me.”

You’ve been worked up since he said that in the car. His teasing didn’t make it any better.

“You’re so worked up already. Should I pull over? Nah, I think I should make you wait.”

And he was true to his word, no matter how much you begged him to at least let you grind against his palm. So you were letting him fuck you in public. If only Kun could see you now. The thought makes you clench down on him.

“Fuck- baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Why are you being so obscene, hm?” He digs his fingers into your bare thighs as his hips snap against you. You bite your lip, grinding down to meet his thrusts.

“You make me so horny.” You whimper pitifully before leaning your head back against his shoulder. You can feel his cock twitch inside you after saying that. He’s always loved when you admit how much you want him to fuck you. The effect is stronger whenever it comes packaged with a little shame, which is why you expected something along the lines of his next words.

“Do you have no shame?” He growls into your ear. That word choice, however, was not at all what you expected. You gasp louder than you intend, hips bucking into the air as you clench your thighs. A couple moviegoers turn, their faces morphing in disgust or surprise once they see you squirming in his lap. They all whisper, some quickly averting their eyes while others enjoy the show. “Baby, look at what you’re doing.” He whispers as if he himself is appalled.

The shame comes crashing over you like a ton of bricks. Your face is red hot and you hide your face in his neck. Still, you don’t stop. Your relationship with Kun would’ve made you think you could never handle being humiliated, let alone be aroused by it. Your experience with him solidified that you thrived off of affection and unconditional love only. But with how wet you are around his cock, that can’t be right.

You whine, whimper, and groan as you fuck yourself on his cock. “I-I just wanna make you feel good.” You sob before a chorus of short, soft gasps erupt from your throat. You’re so close.

“I can’t believe you’re about to cum in front of all these strangers.” He keeps up his dismayed act, even as he lewdly rubs your clit. Pushing your thighs apart so he can vigorously stroke it from side to side. There’s no way most of the theater can’t hear how wet you are. “Is this who you are? My baby’s a filthy whore.” His voice wavers. His thrusts are more sporadic and you can tell he’s about to cum inside you in the theater. It’ll probably drip onto the seats.

“You’re really okay with me filling you up? Here? Baby…”

“No! W-we’ll make a mess-”

“But a girl like you is okay with that, right?”

“No… I’m a good girl.” You say almost inaudibly.

“Hm… okay, princess.” He says reassuringly. For a second you calm down, slowly grinding against him, ready to pull off and finish this later. The movie’s almost over anyway. Then Sicheng grips your hips harshly. His breath is erratic as he bucks into you. The lewd moan that sounds next to your ear tips you off to what’s about to happen. Before you could voice your protests, he fills you up, his skin slapping against yours loudly as he does. The shock brings you down from your high fast. You have that same feeling when he flipped your skirt up in your living room.

Complete and utter embarrassment. And there was nothing sexy about it now. You gasp as you clench your legs together. You work fast to pull him out of you and fix your underwear. You stand up and whip around, inspecting the seat. He chuckles at you and you look at him in disbelief.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” As he speaks, his amusement diminishes and is replaced with that familiar brand of annoyance he gives you. You want to berate him, tell him how stupid it is that he doesn’t know what’s wrong. You want to storm out and catch an uber home. Then it hits you. You did this to yourself.

Weren’t you just the one riding him where people could see? Continuing when you knew they were looking? As the memory of people reacting to you floods your brain, the shame racks through you like lightning.

The lights come up and people in the theater start leaving their seats. To your horror, whistles and laughter start to fill the theater. You turn to see men making lewd gestures at you and clapping at you with debauched looks on their faces. The women either laugh at you or scowl at you in disgust. Your heart sinks as you watch them with dread in your eyes.

When you feel Sicheng’s arm around you, you shrink into him, wishing his figure could somehow cover you up completely. He walks you out of the auditorium without a word. The pit of your stomach feels like it’s squeezing and turning. You feel afraid to look at him. You make it all the way out of the theater with no words. Maybe he really does think you’re disgusting. You wished you could say you didn’t feel the same.

The moment he lets go of you to get in on the driver’s side you feel cold. You keep your head down as you enter the car. As the door shut you feel like you can’t breathe. What if he decides that after what happened he doesn’t want anything to do with you?

Midway into the drive, you gather the courage to slowly peek over at him. He has a smile on his face, one that you’d go out of your way to describe as satisfied. You exhale slowly and sink into your seat. He peers over at you.

“You were great today.”

You feel your heart swell, you eat up every ounce of praise. Even when you weren’t as vulnerable as you felt now.

“I fucking love when you get all insecure and defensive.”

This time you don’t make an effort to stop your face from falling. He couldn’t just let you have it. Have one moment you could cherish with your dear boyfriend. And could he hear himself? How could anyone say those words to someone they’re supposed to care so deeply about? It’s so unlike you to question him, but you just need to know.

“Why?”

Maybe it was the utter confusion apparent in your voice that made Sicheng frown. “Why? I don’t know… It turns me on.” It was apparently his turn to be defensive now.

Sicheng’s arm around you made you feel secure, safe from the scrutiny and nauseating attention that made you feel like grimy trash. Now that you know he enjoyed seeing you suffer through that, it tainted the memory for good. You weren’t secure at all. If any of those men made an effort to try something, would your negative reaction arouse him?

“How… How is that arousing?” You ask in disbelief. You didn’t want to fight, but this admission from him was warping everything you thought you knew about him.

“Babe.” He says, throwing your disbelief back at you. “Come on. Everyone has kinks. Maybe it’s a little weird, but most kinks are! Plus, it’s not like you didn’t know.”

You snap your head in his direction, frantic eyes taking in the way his eyes roll at your bewilderment. “What?! You did know!”

“Knew how?” You want to shout at him, but you can’t muster the strength.

“Our first time together, your first time, I was pretty candid about what I liked. I slut shamed you and you seemed to like it, so what’s the problem here?”

“That’s different! You calling me a slut in the privacy of my bedroom and you getting turned on by me experiencing genuine shame while being watched and judged by strangers is wildly different!” You finally build the courage to scream at him. His silence makes you immediately regret it. He just watches the road, letting you suffer in silence while you try to decipher what he’s thinking.

“I can’t understand why you’re screaming. I misjudged the situation and made a mistake. I don’t think I deserve to get reamed for that.” He muttered. This is the first time you’ve seen the annoyance overtake him. It makes the feeling that you're being unreasonable overtake you.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“We’re here.”

The car halts in front of your house. You didn’t know how to tell him or if you should, but you didn’t want to leave.

“Can…” You start, feeling hopeless before you even get the words out. You sigh and shut your eyes. “Can you come in with me.” You ask apprehensively. It’s clear through your voice that you already expect him to say no, but after you got it out of the way you felt a bit of relief. The thought of going upstairs and sleeping in a cold bed honestly scared you. Especially after your rollercoaster of emotions tonight. But that wasn’t going to happen. You were going to go up together and everything was going to be fine.

“No. You need some time to cool off.”

His words linger in the air as a lump forms in your throat. The click of the door unlocking echoes in your mind. You sat on the end of your bed for hours, letting the TV play in the background so you felt less alone with your thoughts.

He’s angry at you. And it’s your fault. Your back started to ache from the awkward angle you sat in. More hours drag by as you lie on your bed and stare at the wall. What if he realizes you never deserved someone like him? Or if he never speaks to you again? You try to imagine your days without him and they feel empty and grey.

It’s five a.m and you lug yourself to the bathroom. When you turn the light on you feel tears start to well. Look at you. This is what he’ll see when he looks back at photos of the two of you, deliberating on whether he should keep you around or not. Then he’d leave, and you’d be back to your old self.

What were you going to do?

Your dream was distressing enough. What stressed you out more was that you opened your eyes and someone was still yelling your name. Once you hear the loud knocks on your door, your eyes snap fully open. You stumble trying to step right into your slippers out of bed but push on. You recognize the voice by now. As you swing open the door all the worry that loomed over you immediately clears up.

“Sicheng, I’m so sorry.” You shout right out of the gate.

“Where were you? I was calling and texting you all morning.” He looks upset, and maybe this was your brain on serotonin, but it seemed to be out of concern for you.

“I was here, I uh… I slept in.” You don’t even bother checking the time or worrying about what you slept through. You’re just glad he didn’t leave you alone.

“Through your morning classes?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, missing one class isn’t the end of the world.” You shrug, still jittery from the high his presence gave you.

“You… weren’t with someone else?” He asks as he steps closer, looking down at you. You bite your lip and shake your head.

“God, I’m so glad to see you.” The overwhelming urge to hug him takes over as you wrap your arms around his waist. He chuckles and kicks the door closed before hugging you back. You melt into his embrace.

That afternoon, the morning after, and the dawn of the next day you were all over each other. It felt like the beginning, when he would cover you in hickies and moan your name without actually having sex. Even now when you’re riding him like your life depends on it, he’s still managing to match your desperation.

“You’re so good for me, gonna make me cum inside you again.” He mumbles against your lips as he squeezes your ass. He pulls you down hard, making his cock shoot deep inside you again. You fall forward onto his shoulder with a loud moan. Your hips kick forward and smear your combined fluids amongst both your upper thighs. Sicheng’s moans sound prettier than they’ve ever been. Your walls constricting around his shaft demonstrate just how much they’re affecting you. You’ve been grinding into his lap for two rounds now and you weren’t gonna keep it up for much longer. “My legs are getting tired.” You whine next to his ear. You hoped he’d just flip you around and take over, but you groan when he laughs.

“I know you have it in you. I can feel how turned on you are, just give it to me like I know you can.” He encourages mockingly, cooing and awing next to your ear. When you whimper he slaps your ass. It was harder than you expect and you hiss as the sting lingers. “Come on baby.” His voice deepens suddenly, making you squeeze again. Your hips stutter as you try to fight the exhaustion coming on. He tsks before sighing disappointedly.

“You must be letting the slut out for someone else, huh?”

There goes that accusatory tone again. After what happened the night of the movie, you’ve felt less turned on by his taunting. You find yourself wondering if his affinity for your discomfort stops outside of sex.

You lean away, looking into his eyes with conviction and state loud and clear, “I’m not.”

He seems taken aback, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth suggests he’s still having fun. “Oh yeah? Your slutty pussy only gets wet for me?” He leans closer, goading you. You blindly fall for it.

“You're my boyfriend, why would I cheat on you?!” You raise your voice but he doesn’t flinch. His face is still close, in fact he gets closer. You think he’s gonna kiss you but he just continues this little game.

“Maybe I’m not enough to satisfy how loose you’ve become.” His straight face, save for the hint of disgust, made you feel he wasn’t just saying it because it turned him on. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. The thought of disgusting him snuffed out your passion to challenge him. You didn’t want to drive him away.

You might love him.

So you push aside your bruised ego and start riding him again. His face softens, lids lowering to watch you fuck yourself on him through his eyelashes.

“He was worried about me guys.” You beam, revealing the information as if it were grand. It was to you. Judging by their expressions, it wasn’t to them.

“I would hope so. Your partner is supposed to care about you.” Aeri suggests carefully. You’re practically made of steel right now, so her words bounce right off of you. You’ve been through a lot these past two weeks. A lot of sex, and something new.

“Whatever, whatever. You know what else couples are supposed to do? Fight.”

“Just because he doesn’t fight with you doesn’t mean it’s a healthy relationship-”

“No, we didn’t fight before. We do now.” You bite your lip to contain your wide smile as you look at each girl. The three of them look at each other in curiosity before looking back at you.

“What do you fight about?” Yizhuo inquires, leaning forward.

“Other men. Recently he’s been super worried about who I’m hanging out with. It all started after this small fight we had a couple of weeks ago. Do you think he’s worried I’ll move on?” You ask, but no one answers. They just silently pick at their small ceramic plates, light wind tossing their hair.

“I think I can understand why you think this is what love is,” Minjeong is downright clinical as she speaks to you. It bothers you. Is this because of what happened at Aeri’s house? “but that could easily be a sign that he’s possessive.”

“Or… that he doesn’t want you to find someone else to… you know.” Aeri interjects. You try to swallow down the sour taste in your mouth. “Because then he’d have to put effort into finding someone new.”

Yizhuo gasps, frail fingers covering her mouth as she looks at Aeri with concern. “The third stage. Jimin never said it.” You falter, eyes darting around the outdoor seating area. Maybe those words left a dent.

“I really don’t think that’s the case.” You don’t let the thought fester for a second. They just don’t get it. They don’t get him. “This salmon looks good though.” You dig into your food, ignoring the doubt emerging around you.

Sicheng doesn’t need anyone else and he damn sure doesn’t need to worry about your eyes wandering. You deliberated on how you could show him this. You already give him so much. The night after you both finished finals, you figured it out. Your one year anniversary was this summer and you wanted to shake things up a bit. You wanted him to relax and just let you take care of him.

You were dressed in your prettiest baby blue lingerie. You layered a thin white robe over it so you could reveal yourself to him. You waited rather impatiently on the bed, fidgeting with anything you could get your hands on. He was late. Maybe he got busy. Maybe he didn’t care about your big surprise.

Your ears perk up when you hear your front door open. You straighten out, settling into the sexy pose you practiced. When he calls your name you start to tremble with excitement. “In here!” You sing.

Sicheng slowly opens the door and immediately takes in your appearance. You take in his as well. His hair was actually styled. He usually went for a messy look and it looked great, but the way his hair was parted somewhat in the middle looked surprisingly better. He had a snazzy white collared shirt with long sleeves and a black pattern to match his black pants.

“You look dressed up for something.” With sultry eyes, you make a show of checking him out. He smirks as he climbs over you onto the bed.

“I could say the same about you.” He says like he’s onto you. You crane your neck to brush your nose against his before capturing his lips. He starts raking his hands up your sides as he eagerly kisses you back. He pushes your robe up and freezes when he feels the fabric of your garter belt. “Oh?”

That wasn’t supposed to be how he found out, but you were getting lost in his lips. You pull away and slide from under his body. “There’s more to your outfit?” He raises his eyebrows. You settle onto your knees, tugging at your disheveled robe before readying your hands to untie it.

“I wanted to do something special to show you that I’m yours.”

“Here, let me.” He reaches his hands forward but you turn away.

“You just lay back and let me take care of you.” You guide him to the back of your bed, pushing him lightly to lay his head on your pillows. You bite your lip as you straddle him. As you untie your robe and toss it away, you let your face express how aroused you were. How much you wanted to please him.

His face is blank, the passion from moments ago suddenly missing. You reluctantly ignore that and grind down onto his crotch. “Tell me how you want it.” You say quietly as you unbutton his pants. Thinking back to your time with Kun, you thought it’d be impossible to do things like this. Aeri would talk about her experiences and the things she would do all the time. Each time, you couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of you doing any of that. Through getting to experience Sicheng, you opened up to the possibility of you being more sexual.

You enjoy that feeling you get when you see him and know you’re about to have sex. That excitement coursing through your veins. The way your synapses fire when his skin touches yours. And the sex, you couldn’t get enough of it.

You loved sex.

“I wanna show you how nasty I can get. Only for you.” You slip your hand under his boxers and fish for his cock. When you graze your hand over it, you realize it’s still soft. Not an ounce of life. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away.

“What are you doing?”

Your face slowly loses its expression as he gawks at you. All of the reasoning you came up with was nowhere to be found. What are you doing? You stammer, unsure if you should explain yourself or apologize. He sighs annoyedly before moving you off his lap. The air suddenly feels cold and you wrap your arms around yourself. You can’t muster the strength to turn around and see what he’s doing, but you can hear his footsteps thudding toward the door.

From behind you, his voice sounds.

“I’m going out. My phone’s gonna be off so don’t call me.”

Followed by a dull click and then another.

You scramble off the bed to find your robe. On the way, you pass a mirror and reluctantly look at it. Look at you. You looked ridiculous. Cheap. You snatch the robe from the ground and hurriedly wrap it around you. You try to ignore how vivid the feeling of your lingerie pinching your skin is. It scrapes against you, rough and suffocating.

You lie on your bed and stare at the wall. He’ll call in the morning like he did last time.

The next day

He probably got drunk and now he’s hungover. Or he’s passed out at a frat house. You opt to let him call or text you first. Did how confident you were to please him scare him off? Taking into account how he gets turned on when he shames you, perhaps he has trouble unpacking eroticism.

Whenever he texts you, you’re more than willing to talk about it. In the meantime, you have to focus on your slipping grades.

Two days later

You decide to text him since he’s probably embarrassed. Something about what you did triggered something complicated inside of him. You’re sure of it.

___: hey, do you want to maybe talk?

He doesn’t answer for a few hours, but that’s okay. He’s probably thinking just as hard as you are. You’ll stay home for the day so you don’t miss it. College can wait.

One week later

You stare down at the blue lingerie in the garbage can. You’re so fucking stupid. Why did you think he would like that? You’ve slept with him enough times to know what he likes. When you’re demure, it turns him on. Of course he wouldn’t like this. Stupid.

___: I know I’ve texted you a bunch, but I just want to know if you’re okay

You pound your fist against your head, further disturbing your knotty nest. So stupid.

Two weeks later

___: was this you?

You attach a photo of the note that was slid under your door. That was a dumb question. Of course it wasn’t him. Your friends had been frantically trying to contact you since you dropped out. Today is your last day in this apartment and you blocked their numbers, they won’t be able to judge you anymore. This must be one of their sad attempts to get in contact.

“Are you about ready? The truck will be here soon.” Kun shouts from your kitchen, voice echoing through the empty apartment.

“One sec.” You shout back as you open the unlabelled envelope, retrieving the note inside. You unravel the paper to see just one sentence.

“You’re making a mistake getting back with Kun.”

There was only one person that came to mind. You had cut off your other friends, but when it comes to Jimin it was more than that. She was dead to you. You shred up the envelope and paper, unsteady hands causing stray pieces to fall to the floor.

“What was that?” Kun asks as he walks into the living room with another box. When you feel satisfied, you stuff the shreds into a nearby garbage bag. You clench your jaw and dust of your hands.

“Nothing.”

A month and a half later

“Come out and eat. Laying there all day is unproductive.” He doesn’t even bother waiting for your response, just shutting the door again and leaving you in the dark. Your body feels heavy. Each time you think you can’t cry anymore, you prove yourself wrong. You smelled like shit. The worst part?

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

A month later

As you get ready for another godforsaken dinner party, you find yourself staring in the mirror. It’s a miracle Sicheng even noticed you in the first place. You should be grateful for the months he spared you. And you are. You have fond memories. Maybe other people don’t see them as that, but they are.

You lower your makeup brush as you attempt to reminisce. You try to find a memory that doesn’t make your stomach turn. A memory that isn’t tainted with red flags, ones you picked up on but ignored for your own sake.

Sniffling, you clench your eyes shut. There isn’t a single one. Even the okay ones were predecessors to a fight or sex. You’re not even sure which one is worse anymore.

A week and five days later

Maybe it was for the best. You and Kun have been through this. It didn’t work the first time, why would it work now? You haven’t tried in a while…

___: I broke up with Kun

You try again after he doesn’t answer.

___: I wasn’t very happy with him anyway

___: not like how I was with you

___: he doesn’t touch me

Oh he would hate you saying that. What, did he think after fucking more than you spoke to each other that you wouldn’t get accustomed to it?

___: you made me like this

___: you’re not even man enough to come to talk to me

___: or even text?

___: you’re fine with just ghosting me?

___: how do you live with yourself?

You hurriedly wipe away the tears that dropped on your screen. Did he change his number? If so, why isn’t the new owner letting you know you’ve got the wrong person? Your texts must be getting lost in the mountains of texts he gets daily. It’s the only explanation logical enough to placate your anxiety. You don’t actually think he’s capable of being so wicked, but you’re so angry you can’t think straight. Is it really that hard for him to speak to you? Fuck, you really wanna hear his voice.

___: I love you Sicheng

You admit to him and yourself. The admission sends you spiraling. You drop your phone to the floor with a loud bang and collapse. You sob loudly into your hands. Against your better judgment, you imagine you’re in his arms and he’s shushing you. You can’t even properly materialize the fantasy. You have no reference.

In a moment of weakness, you think back to what Jimin told you, and what she failed to tell you. You knew good and well that finding out the third stage could hurt you even further. You’re scared of what that may entail. But you still search for the nearest payphone to your parent’s house. If you were her, you wouldn’t answer if you saw your name pop up. You type in her number and wait as it rings.

The ringing ceases and it’s quiet for just a moment.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice is gruff. You look at the time on your phone. You probably woke her up.

“Listen, I know I have no right to call you after the fight a month or so ago, but I just need to know.” You rush out as your voice trembles.

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “Know what.”

“The third stage.” You say apprehensively. Jimin lets the conversation hang in silence long enough for you to realize you stopped breathing. Your heart beats in your ears as she clears her throat.

“Thought you found that out on your own already.”

“I… I didn’t-”

“He likes to watch women fall prisoner to lust, to watch as he chips away at their innocence. The problem is that once he chips it all away, there’s no putting it back.”

You feel like your body is physically rejecting her words. You shake your head, shaking loose all the tears welling in your eyes. “No that’s not true-”

“He got bored of you after you stopped behaving the way he wanted.” She says, frustration reaching its peak. Words fail to enter your brain. The silence only lasts a short while before Jimin hangs up the phone.

You can’t stop yourself. You weren’t going to stop fretting over it until you know for sure. After you type in the next number you feel numb as it rings. You pray and pray that a stranger picks up. The ringing stops quicker than you expect. You hear music and a familiar laugh before an amused–

“Hello?”

You wait, registering his voice as he repeats himself and asks if someone is there. He mumbles something before the call cuts out. You turn and leave the dark alley, arms swinging limply by your sides. The head and taillights of cars that whiz by and stores that are still open light up your empty eyes. As you stare out into nothing, your phone buzzes. You slowly lift it into view, staring at the sole notification on your cracked screen.

Sichengie 💞: I don’t

➻ end of act ii

#phewwwww #the next act shouldn't be as long either #just a nice little update time skip thing #dong sicheng #sicheng #winwin #nct #wayv #kpop #smut #angst #sicheng smut #winwin smut #wayv smut #nct smut #kpop smut #wayv angst #nct angst #kpop angst

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ramayantika · 11 months

Text

–✦– 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨, 𝙍𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙒𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 –✦–

Reflection in the Mirror

Please note that this is only the end for the first part of the series. There are so many rishikas, apsaras, and divine women who have inspired me and been with me all this while, so they too deserve their own tales. But for now, I want to end these goddesses, rishikas and women series so that I can keep track and save them. To be honest, this started off purely out of spite when I saw comments and mean DMs to girls who were plainly stating their achievements regarding how they did it or when they were simply stating the obvious fact that a woman in India is looked upon as a form of the goddess.

These men (except some gems) were like you all are sluts who claim to be goddesses and the same women chi women tea and shit. This series was my reminder that no matter what the goddesses won't give a fuck about shit men like this, and certainly not their spouses. So here's an end tribute to these goddesses and rishikas with a light mention of the future stories I shall post soon because I do have an idea about what I want ;)

Usha Lakshmi Gargi Ratri Saraswati Rati Aditi

I stare hard at the mirror. If my brother saw the depth and sharpness of my gaze, he would start quivering. I am the soft elder sister of the family who loves kids, dances around the house, and speaks sweetly. But Maa Durga knows I carry Kali's fierceness in my heart. Maa Durga bestowed her strength in my bones. How else did he see my fight with that big bully for him?

The day I was born, my father got a promotion. Maa cheerfully tells me that I had blessed the home as my sakhi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity Lakshmi. When they think, she is the goddess of priceless treasure and money, I remind them that this wealth is also the food and good luck bestowed on me and on the house. I was named after prosperity and good luck, just like my goddess friend. My grandparents called me devi. I am still called devi during navaratri, and these men who have prayed to the goddess only for these selfish needs have the nerve to say that I do not carry the goddesses inside me?

I stare hard at the mirror. Lakshmi keeps her arm around my shoulder. Maa Durga stands just behind me and beside her is the fierce dark goddess Kali, who smiles benevolently.

With a wine coloured hue, I see the goddess of love, Rati enter the mirror, and tuck a loose strand behind my ear. She winks and waves her fingers at me, with a proud smile on my face as I wear a red lipstick again. I have known the lustful gaze of men over my form who think they could easily have me and bend me according to their whims and fantasies. They think they can shame me for my beauty and grace when my form has been blessed by the goddess herself.

And when you possess beauty, they think, the lovely maiden has no brain to go with. I see Rishika Gargi, Lopamudra, and Maitreyi enter the reflection, their faces shinning with the immense amount of penance for knowledge and wisdom. Someday, I aspire to reach an ounce of their knowledge. They look at the pearl bracelet on my wrist and look behind to welcome the goddess who narrated me the wisdom being pearls, Devi Saraswati. She pulls a string of her divine veena, and everybody bows down to her.

On a glorious chariot arrives the goddess who told me to keep my head held high, and emerge as strong as the sun, the one who reminded me that after the darkest of nights come the brightest of days, Devi Usha. She pats my head, and tells me that she is proud of me. She has seen me grow into a woman who is still far from perfect, still committing silly mistakes, but a woman in learning -- a woman who keeps desiring to refine herself who understood that mistakes, despair and failures help you grow.

Following her sister's trail comes the silent witness to my journey, the goddess who showed me the hidden magic of the night and provided me the comfort of the moon and the stars on days that were too difficult to pass by. She is Devi Ratri. She still wears the dress woven of stars and celestial elements making her the sparkling queen of the night. She looks back at me from the mirror, her gaze proud and strong, and if I am not wrong, a sisterly gaze in them.

Draupadi enters the room and playfully opens my hair. She has brought a bunch of jasmine flowers and weaves them through my hair. Her laughs sounds music to my ears. If I haven't told you all then listen now. The first tale, I heard in my childhood was the story of the queen of Indraprastha. The divine dark beauty, the cherished wife of the Pandavas was the one whom I carried in my heart for long to remind myself that if a queen could overcome tremendous difficulties and pains in life, I could do too. You can do it too.

A beautiful flute music makes all our heads turn at the teenaged girl. Donning pink and red robes with flower jewellery adorning her form, I see Radha smiling and waving at the goddesses and rishikas in the mirror. She pats my cheek and beams at me. She was the forgotten friend, but god, she never forgot me. She is the shining beacon of true friendship and unconditional love.

As a child, I got lost in a forest. My family grew petrified. A young child getting lost in the forest. What if someone took her away? They forgot that Aranyani, the lost goddess now exists in the lush green hilly forests. She nurtures the animals, be it prey or predator. She nurtures the wild shrubs and fruit giving trees. She keeps medicinal plants in the heart of the forest, so any poisoned or injured child of hers could be saved in the deep forest.

How can I forget the apsaras, divine celestial woman who have been misjudged so much? Apsaras were the beautiful ladies who came alive through my comic books into my dance classes. They taught me how to dance your heart out. They taught me how to move agile as a deer; how to have a sharp gaze to disarm the audience; how to dance like the gods; how to dance until nothing remains but dance. Menaka, Urvashi and Rambha, the main trio very popularly known in folk tales and dancing texts have danced with me. They still do. I carry their grace in my movements as I practice for hours. I know the beauty I carry in sweaty flushed faces and tired limbs, while embodying the fiery passion for a beautiful artform. Alas, how could you ever understand them or even my heart, and my practice? Here they are stretching again for another evening to practice with me and teach me their skills.

Sita, the woman who needs no introduction whose mere mention leads to pride soaring in the hearts of us womenfolk. She garlands me with fresh sweet-smelling flowers around my neck. Her serene face fills me with silent strength and support that sometimes you don't have to fight your battles out loud. Strength doesn't have to be physical. Sometimes she sits beside me in her forest robes to tell me about cute birds and their language. And for moments where I need to learn how to battle on the front without weapons, she comes in dressed as a queen fit for the throne, born with resilience just like Bhu Devi, and imparts the lesson to me.

With battles, I remember the warrior queen of Dwarka, Murari's Bhama. She walks in holding her bow, looking as regal like the queen she is. I remember her first appearance in a dream to know her, to write about her. She was a queen who sang to me about the lost kingdom of Dwaraka, whose glories are still sung, but now lie submerged under deep waters of the sea. She emerged from the lost kingdom and told me her story. Once again misjudged like several other women for not being docile and submissive, but being aware of her own sense of self and pride which got translated to arrogance by many. Satyabhama stands in the mirror, beside me, holding fire in her gaze and steady fingers on the bow she proudly owns.

Countless of other deities, and divine women and scholars join me in front of the mirror. Their faces glow with strength, power and centuries of wisdom. This is enough proof to know that each of them reside in every body, but for us women, we have a more intimate connection with out sister and motherly goddesses. Menfolk can call us prideful and arrogant, but these goddesses and divinities never have kept us below them. We stand with them as equals, as warriors, lovers, teachers, mothers and nurturers. This eternal bond of womanhood connects us alike. It's a pity to make some of these men understand.

Lastly, they merge into one, and I see myself as the only girl standing in front of the mirror.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Thank you for reading this till the end. It's not really an end because we still have too many tales to share. I am really glad that some of these stories resonated with you and you found solace in them. It's not me it's the goddesses work. Anyway hope you all have a blessed day! Love you ❤

#samridhi writes #phewwwww #the first part is done #I will go on a little break after June on a vacation sort off and start of some serious dancing and choreographing #it's going to be a free plus busy work month ahead hopefully I get some form of confirmation of a college.#that way I wouldn't have a fear at the back of my head anyway good luck #Also thank you everyone for reading this #indian goddess #desiblr #stories

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