#But that's a another whole conversation it self

[wosospacegirl]

La reina - Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia fell for someone she never expected—Y/n, a younger college student who couldn’t care less about football. They have nothing in common, yet somehow, they just work. Here’s a little glimpse into their relationship.

Warnings: smut (+18); we have smut, we have fluff, we have angts, we have comfort we have Alexia eating Y/n out while making as 11 with her tongue...I'm sure you guys will feel fed <3

Word count: 7k

MASTERLIST

Notes: this was a request! So sorry it took me about a month to write it.

..

Y/n was practically bouncing on her feet when she saw Alexia at the airport. Well, it wasn’t exactly an airport since the Spain squad all travelled privately on their way back home.

The space was mostly empty, with only the player’s families present. There were no crowds asking for photos or cameras flashing since they weren’t allowed in.

But it didn’t matter. All Y/n cared about was Alexia. It had been three weeks since she left for camp in another country.

The matches the Spanish played were all friendly to prepare for real and important games–at least that’s what Alexia had explained to her, Y/n didn’t know much about football except that Alexia looked very pretty while playing it.

It was weird being at the airport knowing that in another two weeks, Y/n would have to come here, but to drop Alexia off as she had another game, this time in Portugal.

Alexia and Y/n didn’t spend a lot of time together. If they had gone on a date at least 3 times in the last 3 months Y/n would be lying. So she tried to be her best self around Alexia, tried to enjoy her and made sure Alexia was getting the rest she needed

T/n looked at the gate and saw that the first players to walk through the private airport doors were Pina and Patri, both girls quickly stopped to greet Y/n and do some small conversation, and then Aitana joined them, her well-travelled pillow hanging on her arm.

Y/n could not really focus on the conversation; she kept turning back to see if Alexia was there already.

“The staff on the plane asked her to take some pictures,” Aitana said, noticing how Y/n’s eyes kept bouncing from the group to the gate. “She’ll probably be the last to get out of the plane.

“She’s always the last, though,” Y/n said in a half-whined.

“Perks of being La Reina’s girlfriend,” Aitana said winking, before saying goodbye, taking Pina and Patri with her.

Y/n’s impatience grew as the minutes dragged on. Three and a half bitten nails later, Alexia showed up.

Her face was soft with exhaustion, her Barcelona hoodie slightly oversized, making her look unfairly huggable. 

Her blonde hair was messy from sleep, falling over her shoulder as she had just spent the whole flight dreaming–which probably happened because Alexia was rather sleepy, even if she denied it assiduously.

I took her some time, but Alexia inevitably saw Y/n in the middle of the private airport lobby and instantly smiled, opening her arms, and letting Y/n come to her.

Their hug was long. 

Alexia allowed Y/n to properly crush her torso all she wanted with her arms, but it didn’t bother Alexia; she had a load of muscle underneath her hoodie, and Y/n’s hug didn’t even tickle her.

“Hi,” Alexia said in Y/n’s ear, putting her hand on the girl’s head and pressing her even more against her body. 

Y/n mumbled something incoherent and just pressed her face more into the Barça hoodie, listening to Alexia’s heartbeat.

Alexia’s hand let go of her suitcase, planting her palm underneath Y/n’s shirt, on her warm back.

Being apart for too long was hard on both of them, but especially on Y/n. She was a very affectionate, physical-touch-as-a-love-language kind of girl. 

Naturally, she didn’t spend days sobbing in bed whenever Alexia was away–certainly, if she did that, she would die of dehydration–instead, she kept on with her life. The pressure in her chest never fully went away, especially during Alexia’s away games. It settled there, quietly constant, a reminder of how much she missed her.

The one way she found to cope with it was to bury herself in university work and focus on her classes and hobbies, like learning French and knitting. Alexia joked that every time she came back from a trip Y/n had learned something completely new from scratch.

“Missed you, mi vida,” Alexia said, breathing Y/n’ vanilla perfume on, one that she had got very used to, and missed whenever she was away. “Three weeks is way too long; I won’t ever do it again.”

Alexia bent her head a little just so Y/n could kiss her. First, she kissed her lips, then her cheeks, nose and forehead. Alexia was a very private person, and their relationship was still a secret to the public, but right now she could only care about Y/n and the way her kisses tickled her.

“I’ll hide you from Fifa for the rest of the year,” Y/n mumbled, bringing Alexia even closer to her. “They’ll never find you again and we’ll just stay together and live off of pizza.”

“I agree on the whole kidnap me from FIFA,” Alexia said, kissing Y/n’s head. “But I’ll have to pass the pizza thing, that wouldn't be very healthy, would it?”

“Look at you and your healthy diet,” Y/n rolled her eyes and jokingly pushed Alexia away “I forgot how much of a freak you are with food…I may or may not have like– a bunch of very unhealthy snakes lying around in your kitchens,” 

“They made me so happy while you were away,”  Y/n said, giving Alexia her best puppy eyes. “Please ignore them, and don’t–”

“I’ll throw them away,” Alexia started with a malicious smile.

“Oh come on!” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “They are my favourite flavour.”

The player took her suitcase with one hand and wrapped Y/n’s shoulder with the other, leading them out of the airport. 

“Come on, cariño you need to have some healthy habits,” Alexia said casually if it was that simple to give up on chips. 

“Where did you park the car?”

“You don’t understand that having a snack is essential for my mental health,” Y/n said, pointing at the black Cupra car parked a few meters away.

Alexia chuckled, opening her palm for Y/n to give her the keys. “You can keep half of your snacks and we’ll give the rest to the ninãs on the team.”

Y/n looked for the keys in her pocket and gave them to Alexia. 

They had already fought multiple times over Alexia–possessive and annoying driving behaviour.

Alexia always had to be the one driving, it didn’t matter when or where; the keys were always hers. The only time Y/n had a chance to drive Alexia’s cars was when she wasn’t in Barcelona, that was the only circumstance she would allow her to touch the keys.

“It’s not fair that Vicky gets to eat chips without an earful and I don't” Y/n grumbled, getting into the passenger seat after Alexia opened the door for her.

Ever the gentlewoman.

Alexia went around the vehicle, got behind the wheel, and started the car. “Vicky is a professional athlete who actually cares about what she eats, you, otherwise, would eat only pasta for a straight week If I didn’t ask you to change up a bit.”

“Vicky might be a professional athlete, but I’m a university student.” Y/n put her hands to her chest dramatically. “Do you know how impossible it is to survive studying without snacks? I’m out here shaping tiny minds, Ale—I need fuel! It’s not easy to be an early childhood education major.”

“Sorry, amor.” Alexia rolled her eyes playfully, placing a hand on Y/n’s tight.  “You can keep all your snacks, okay? Don’t want you losing your mind over…midterms? That’s what you call them?”

Y/n smiled triumphantly. She had to keep on her snacks, HA!

“Yep, but my midterms are over, remember?” Y/n said looking at Alexia. “I had my last test three days ago, I texted you about it.”

“Merda,” [shit] Alexia said looking from the road to Y/n. “Sorry, mi vida, I forgot about it. How did you go?”

It didn’t bother Y/n anymore. Alexia was very forgetful about personal things, even though they were important to her.

Her head was too much on football, on the team and the girls. Alexia took her duties as capitana very seriously, her job didn’t stop after she got off training or the pitch. But Y/n was learning, little by little, how to manage that, Alexia too.

Alexia and Y/n hadn’t been dating for a long time, they were together for a little over 8 months. 

Their relationship had ups and downs, just like any other. Their main source of conflict was because of how different their words were. 

They had an age gap, not too big, but enough to cause some generational conflicts; Alexia was like the best footballer in the world, while Y/n was ‘just’

a university student; and last but not least: their relationship was a secret.

Alexia didn't like to call it secret, she preferred ‘private’ but Y/n liked to call it what it was: hidden.

Y/n didn’t like it. She wanted to just be in a normal relationship. She didn’t want to go full 3rd base with Alexia in the middle of the street, but she did want to post a picture of her for Valentine’s Day or go out without pretending to be friends…

But again, they were always working around it.

“The grade isn’t out yet, but I think I did good!” Y/n said proudly. “It was for a philosophy test, so I had to write a lot, but overall it was okay.”

“La meva nena intelligent,” [my smart girl], Alexia, said, also sounding proud. “I’ll buy you something if you get an A.”

“You always say that and you buy what I want regardless of my grades,” Y/n giggled. “And my university grades are between 1 and 10, we don’t use the letter systems.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you always work hard,” Alexia shrugged. “It doesn't matter your grade, I always know you do great.”

“Tell that to my children's psychology professor” Y/n said, rolling her eyes. “That woman is making my life a living hell.”

“Okay, do you have her phone or–” Alexia said deadpan.

“What?”

“To talk to your professor, she should be kinder to her students.” Alexia acted like ringing up a university professor because your girlfriend wanted to was a normal–casual– thing to do. “Professors are like captains on the team, the captain needs to be firm but also friendly and open to conversation, right?” She asked, looking at Y/n as they stopped at a red light.

“You really know how to ball while I know Aristotle, huh?” Y/n said smiling.

“Huh?” Alexia asked with furrowed eyebrows. “What do you mean? And yeah, I know how to ball, I won the Ballon d'Or, bebè, twice.”

For someone who didn’t know Alexia, they would think she was bragging, but she was simply stating a fact that she thought Y/n wasn't familiar with.

Y/n had missed this, having Alexia around, and talking to her… she just missed her girlfriend a lot, and unfortunately, in the last few months they had spent more time away than with each other, so she had to make the most of it.

“I know, Ale! I meant it like–” Y/n saw the confusion on Alexia’s face and decided to pick her battles. “Actually, just forget about it.”

“Why?” Alexia asked.

“Cause the green light is just on and we need to get home very fast,” Y/n said urgently, pointing at the traffic light.

Alexia looked at her anxiously while beginning to drive. “Why do we need to get home fast, are you car sick again?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Alexia was killing the mode.

“No, Alexia!” Y/n said, a slight blush on her face “I just spent three weeks without my super hot girlfriend and I feel like I’m in the trenches, okay?”

Alexia understood what the girl meant right away, a grin growing on her face as she stepped up the speed.

“Don’t worry, cariño, I’ll take good care of you when we get home,” Alexia said as she pressed her foot harder on the accelerator pedal.

“Ale, I think you just went through a red light,” Y/n said, turning her neck to see the clearly red traffic light.

“It’s alright,” Alexia waved off. “I’ll just pay the car ticket later.”

Y/n’s underwear felt a well-known feeling in between her legs, she pressed her tight together, trying to find some friction.

Alexia barely parked the car when they arrived at Alexia’s house minutes later. A trio that was usually 20 minutes turned into 10. It was safe to say that Alexia went over and beyond the limit speed.

Alexia didn’t even wait for Y/n to step a foot into the house, her hands were already all over her, pressing, grabbing, touching every centimetre of skin she could find.

The blonde turned Y/n around and pressed her body against the closed door, her hand impatiently undid the button of Y/n’s jeans, her warm hand meeting Y/n’s wet underwear.

“Already this wet, cariño?” Alexia purred on Y/n’s ear, while her hand cupped Y/n’s tits under her shirt.

“Uhum,” Y/n moaned, moving her hips against Alexia’s hands. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, she did too,” she said. That's how Alexia would–sometimes–call Y/n’s pussy. “She’s so ready for me,  I could just ease a finger right in.”

Y/n whimpered, feeling Alexia press her even more against the cold door as one of her fingers slowly made its way into her hole. She was drenched, having spent two whole weeks without Alexis was the same as not feeling pleasure at all.

Y/n did touch herself–Alexia allowed her– but it didn’t feel the same. Y/n craved more than just a touch, she needed closeness, she needed words and reassurance during sex. 

She needed Alexia, and now she had her.

“Vols un dit més, cariño?” [Do you want a finger, cariño?] Alexia asked, not waiting for Y/n to respond before adding one more in her pussy. “I think you do, you’ve been so good while I was away, took care of yourself, and did well at uni, you deserve it, mi vida.” 

Y/n could cum just with Alexia’s words, she knew how much Y/n was a whore for compliments and she used it as her weapon during sex.

“Ale,” Y/n whimpered, pressing her tits on Alexia’s hands. “Thank you, fuck–”

Alexia smirked, noticing the effect she had on her girl. 

“That's what we’re going to do,” Alexia said, nipping Y/n’s earlobe. “You’re going to ride my finger right now, and then I’m taking you to bed and you’re riding my face, how does that sound?”

Y/n nodded frenetically. To be honest, she didn’t understand a word Alexia said, all she heard was ‘cum��� and ‘ride’, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Alexia took her hand off Y/n’s chest, which earned her a whine from Y/n. “Be patient, I’ll give your tits more attention later.” 

The player wrapped her hand around Y/n’s waist, steading Y/n as she began buckling her hip, making Alexia’s finger reach even deeper than before.

“Oh–uh,” Y/n moaned, mouth hand open as Alexia sucked a spot on the back of her neck. “Almost there, Ale…I–”

“You can cum whenever you want, sweetheart,” Alexia said, kissing the new purple spot she made on the girl's skin. “Go on, be good and cum on my fingers.”

Y/n was a very good girl, so she did just that. 

She felt her body go still as shockwaves ran through her body, Alexia’s name coming out of her mouth as if it were a prayer.

When Y/n’s muscles went soft, Alexia held her tighter, but she didn’t let the girl recover, her fingers were moving against her wet walls again.

“Ale, amor–” Y/n whimpered, pressing her forehead against the door as the pleasure took over her body once again. “Please, hmm.”

It was like Alexias was all over her body; as if her cells had entered Y/n’s skin. She could only feel Alexia, and hear Alexia, all her senses belonged to the player.

“Give me one more,” Alexia murmured in her ear. “I know you want to, cariño.”

Alexia added a third finger and moved faster, her thumb meeting Y/n’s clit as she gently played with it.

It was enough for Y/n to cum again. Her breathing failed and for a second no air came into her lungs, but it didn’t matter because a wave of bliss consumed her body once again.

“Just like that,” Alexia purred, slowing the pace of her fingers, helping the girl come down from her orgasm. “I missed seeing you cum.”

Alexia turned her around and kissed her face, murmuring praises as Y/n tried to come back from her high.

“Now let’s go to my room,” Alexia said, wrapping her arm around the girl’s waist again. “Wanna taste you on my tongue.” 

They were off to a wild and long night.

..

The next day Y/n woke up with Alexia’s mouth on her.

Alexia had taken her pyjama shorts off, and her mouth was on Y/n’s pussy, lapping at her wetness as her hands possessively grabbed her tights.

It took a few seconds for Y/n to understand what was happening, but when she realised, she welcomed it with a grin. 

Alexia always ate her out when she could, it was almost part of her routine. But of course, she couldn't do that while she was away, so it was nice to have this part of her day back.

Alexia was extremely skilled with her fingers, her mouth, with her strap…It was like she was very aware of every movement she made all the time. She knew exactly what to grab, what to lick and what to pinch to make Y/n moan and melt.

“Baby,” Y/n whined, moving her hips, trying to make Alexias go faster. “More?”

“Don’t move, cariño.” Alexia firmed her grip on Y/n’s tight. “Let me do the work, just lay there for me.”

It was almost impossible to just lay there, especially after Alexias fucked her with her finger against it. The two middle ones were deep into her pussy, Y/n’s walls welcoming them as part of her own body.

“Ale, hmm, please–” Y/n whimpered, holding her hand to her side because she knew Alexia didn’t like when she pulled her hair while she was eating her out.

It was something about being in control, Alexia told her once.

“Baby, so go–” Y/n was interrupted when Alexia took the shirt she was wearing and stuffed the hem into her mouth, the fabric quickly becoming wet.

Y/n stared at Alexia with wide eyes.

“Shh, just enjoy it, bebè,” Alexia said, sucking at Y/n’s clit while making eye contact, her left hand marking Y/n’s hip bone with her finger.

Y/n closed her eyes and did what Alexia told her: she enjoyed it.

Y/n was grabbed tightly at the bedsheets as she felt Alexia's tongue moving faster, and then she noticed it.

Alexia was making the number 11 with her tongue, moving it up and down slowly before moving it to the side. She did it again, and again. 

And that’s when Y/n felt that well-known feeling. An orgasm erupted from her body as she bit into her shirt, her body, her body shook and she came to Alexia’s mouth. 

Then it all went black.

“You’ll hurt your jaw, cariño,” Y/n heard Alexia say as if she was far away. She quickly opened her eyes and was met with Alexia’s hazel eyes. 

“Hi,” Alexia said, smiling. “Let go of it, baby,” Alexia tugged at the material in Y/n’s mouth.

Y/n looked at Alexia with furrowed brown, and then she looked down. She had forgotten Alexia had stuffed her shirt in. She dizzily opened her mouth and Alexia took the hem of the shirt from her.

Y/n was confused. She remembered having an orgasm and then… blank. When she was overstimulated she would sometimes black out and wake up minutes later.

“Lift your arms for me, let me take the shirt off,” Alexia asked while caressing Y/n’s cheek.

Y/n shook her head, still looking at Alexia, feeling safe in her presence. She was confused, but Alexia would make it better. She always did.

Alexia tilted her head. “Why not?”

“Cold,” Y/n said, leaning into Alexia’s palm.

“I’ll give you my shirt,” Alexia promised. “And you’ll be warm.”

Y/n obediently lifted her arms and let Alexia strip her. She was fully naked when Alexia came back from her closet, a red shirt in her hand.

Alexia carefully put it on Y/n and went to the bathroom, coming back with a few wipes in hand. She spread Y/n’s thighs open and cleaned her, reassuring her whenever Yn whined, telling her she was too sensitive.

At the end, Alexia tucked Y/n in and kissed her forehead.

“Are you feeling sleepy, cariño?” 

Yn nodded, a pout on her face as she turned her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. Alexia had tired her out and the clock said it wasn’t even 6 am.

“Take a nap,” Alexia said as she got on the bed with Y/n, gently guiding Y/n’s head to her chest. “ I’ll stay here with you.”

Y/n fell asleep seconds later.

A few hours later, Alexia woke Y/n up with breakfast on the bed–or at least what Alexia considered breakfast– she chopped a bunch of fruits in a bowl and put them on a breakfast tray.

“Where’s the rest?” Y/n asked, still sleepy, rubbing her eyes.

Alexia sat next to Y/n and looked at her confused. “What do you mean the rest?”

“Hmm, the rest of the food?” Y/n said, pointing at the tray in front of her. “Do you want me to start the day off with two bananas and a mango? Where is the chocolate chip pancake?”

“You should always start your day with fibre, cariño.” Alexia crossed her arms. “We can go out for brunch and get whatever you want if you eat your fruit salad.”

“Whatever I want?” Y/n asked, a teasing smile on her face.

“Sí.”

“I want you then.

Alexia clearly wasn’t waiting for that answer because she got flushed hard and fast. It was cute, seeing Alexia, normally calm and chill, getting squirmish under her gaze.

It didn’t last long though, she was quickly back to her normal, confident self.

“Eat your fruit and you’ll have it,” she whispered against Y/n’ smooth, before taking the girl into a deep kiss. “Now go on, I want us to go on a run before noon.”

The mention of run made Y/n’s horniness disappear from her body.

“A run? But you just got back from camp!” Y/n whined. “You can’t be serious, normal people rest after they’re done working.”

Y/n could see Alexia's rigorous and inflexible persona coming right in.

“Cariño, I have to keep my routine, you know that,” Alexia said, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “If I skip, I’ll regret it later.”

“Runs help prevent injuries, too, it makes my ligaments stronger.” She continued, kissing Y/n’s face to make her soften up. It worked.

Y/n didn’t have a chance to fight it and she knew.

Her shoulder gave up a little. “Fine! But can I go on the golf card while you run?”

“No,” Alexia said deadpan. “That wouldn't be running.”

“But you are the–oh so glorious– professional footballer, I’m just a future kindergarten teacher!” Y/n said. “Would you like it if I made you do class planning? I don’t think so.” Y/n crossed her arms.

If Alexia was insisting on her company on the run, she was doing it her way.

“Cariño! You never work out with me,” Alexia complained.

“That’s because I never work out, Alexia; it’s nothing personal,” Y/n said.

“You told me one of your New Year resolutions was starting to work out,” Alexia said, her turn to cross her arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n waved her off. “But that was a long few months ago.”

“We’re in February.” 

“But it’s a leap year!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Alexia asked exasperatedly.

“The more you argue the later you start your run,” Y/n said, taking a piece of banana and putting it into her mouth.

Alexia gave up.

“Fine, just finish it, ok? I’ll take a shower,” Alexia said, turning around and going to their shared bathroom.

"I’ll join you in a moment!" Y/n yelled from the bed, but in her mind, she was already planning the fastest route to avoid a run and the fastest way to get in the shower with Alexia.

She couldn't lose the opportunity of seeing Alexia naked and wet.

Y/n had never eaten a fruit salad so fast in her life.

..

Y/n and Alexia compromised.

Y/n did run with her for 2km, but Alexia did the rest of her run having Y/n driving a golf cart by her side.

That way Y/n did what she loved the most: just sit and look pretty while having quality time with Alexia.

The couple talked a lot during the run, mainly about Y/n's classes and about the time Alexia spent on camp.

The good thing about having a partner who lived a completely different life than you? The gossip!

How else would Y/n know about which gold medalist was sleeping with who? And how else would Alexia know about the two professors in the philosophy department who were going through an ugly divorce because of cheating?

“And guess what?” Y/n said, easily turning the wheel to divert from a hole in the ground. 

“What?” Alexia asked, a little out of breath because of her exercise.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Guess!” 

“I don't know!” Alexia said. “Tell me, cariño, please?”

Please. Huff.

Alexia refused to say please when they were having sex, but quickly said the word when she wanted to hear the biggest gossip around the campus–that she didn't even attend!

Y/n lowered her speed to keep up with Alexia, who was going at a slower pace.

“The professor cheated on a student! It's a girl majoring in social services!” Y/n disclosed the gossip. “If you had asked me, I would say social services were the last one on my list of students sleeping with professors.”

Alexia laughed. “And what major would be first?”

“Engineering major,” Y/n stated expressionlessly. “Any type of engineering major. I've heard stories.”

“What stories?” Alexia asked.

“Oh you wouldn't like to know,” Y/n said as she got faster leaving Alexia behind.

“Cariño, stop it,” Alexia said. “You're going too fast.”

“But I need to get home and pee!” Y/n yelled back. “Just get in the car with me and we'll go.”

“No!”Alexia said. “I have to finish my running.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and got faster, ignoring Alexia’s lecture and leaving her behind and she drove back to Alexia’s house.

When Alexia got home 30 minutes later than Y/n, she opened the door and found the girl lying on the sofa, fresh out of the shower.

Alexia bent down from the back of the couch to give the Y/n a kiss but was met with a pillow on her face.

“Excuse me?” Alexia asked, offended.

“Shower first,” Y/n said, still holding the pillow up while holding a book with the other. “And then you can have your kiss.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“I want a kiss now,” Alexia demanded calmly.

Y/n simply pointed at the hallway to the bathroom.

Alexia groaned but headed to the bathroom.

“No groaning,” Y/n yelled from the sofa.

Alexia replied by slamming the bathroom door shut.

Grumpy.

After Alexia emerged from the bathroom, fresh from her shower with her hair still damp, she made her way to the living room. She found Y/n exactly where she had left her—lounging on the sofa—but the book she'd been reading was long forgotten.

Noticing the amused smile on Y/n’s face as she scrolled through her phone, Alexia leaned over the back of the couch without a word, curious about the source of her laughter.

Y/n, still grinning, explained that she was watching funny videos from a new social media app—one Alexia had never even heard of. 

She did her best to break down what was happening in the video, but no matter how much she tried, Alexia just couldn’t wrap her head around it.

All Alexia knew was that Y/n wanted them to participate in whatever the couple on the video were doing.

“–And then we start running,” Y/n said with a proud smile, holding up her phone as a TikTok played on the screen. “Easy, right? I won’t post it, of course. It’s gonna be in my drafts.” 

“I still don't understand, cariño,” Alexia said.

The player had changed her position, and her shoulder was resting on the sofa’s arm as she squinted her eyes at Y/n phone.

“What you don't understand this time?” Y/n asked, slightly imapantient.

Alexia didn't know anything about social media. Nothing. Nada. Y/n wasn't an influencer but she knew her way around technology and trends and was very active on her Instagram. 

Alexia, on the other hand, was happy if she didn't forget her Instagram password. Which she did, several times. Y/n had to be the one to get a new password for her.

“What's the propòsit d���aixop?”[What’s the purpose of this?] Alexia asked. 

“Alexia, my love,” Y/N said, cupping Alexia’s cheeks dramatically. “It’s just a TikTok trend. It’s supposed to be dumb. That’s literally the whole point.”

“Dumb, bebè?” [baby] Alexia said, taking Y/n’s wrists in her hands gently and holding them under her lap. “I'm not tonta, and neither are you, why post us being silly?” [silly]

Y/n tried to free her wrists, but Alexia held tighter.

“Because everybody does it!” Y/n answered in a whine. 

It was always like that with Alexia. 

They spent most of the time away from each other, having to text or do video chats, and when they were together they couldn’t even do normal couple things because Alexia was Barcelona’s princess. 

She had the whole world watching her all the fucking time. 

“Cariño, we’re not like everyone else,” Alexia said, running a hand through her hair. “I have contracts and sponsors and… I just don’t want to do anything that could cause problems, you know?”

Y/n tugged at her wrist harder, and this time Alexia let her go with a huff. Y/n's eyebrows were furrowed.

“It 's a tiktok trend, Alexia! I'm not going to film you using cocaine or kicking a puppy!” Y/n said, the tone of her voice getting louder. “Everybody does it! Everybody! It's supposed to be fun, something that couples do.”

Alexia Pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“We are not everybody,” she repeated as if Y/n didn't listen the first time.

“No! You are not everybody,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. “And maybe I just wanted to feel like a normal girlfriend for once—ever think about that? I miss spending time with you!”

Y/n loved Alexia, she had said it to her three months ago, she loved her so much it hurt, but moments like this, when she felt like a secret, when she felt like Alexia’s career was the most important thing in in life, she sometimes wished Alexias was just another normal person.

Maybe that way Alexia would have time for her. Maybe if she wasn’t La Reina, Alexia would walk with her and hold her hand, maybe they wouldn't have to spend all their time together because Alexia was too busy to be with her.

Someday she wished Alexia wasn’t La Reina. Today was one of those days.

Alexia opened her mouth, but Y/n didn't let her argue.

“Nope, I’m talking—because you just got back from a three-week camp, and now you’re leaving again! For another week! In Portugal! Do you see the problem here, Ale?”

“I know, cariño,” Alexia sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just… My schedule is a mess. I don’t know how to fix that.”

Alexia knew it was coming, she just didn’t know it was going to be today. When she got back from long trips Y/n would always whine and complain about how much she was away, but she never screamed or yelled about it. 

They had arguments over it, but it was always toned down, almost like very logical arguments. But this time Y/n seemed to have a lot of feeling boiling inside of her, waiting for the right moment to let them ou.t

Y/N stepped closer, pressing a hand flat against Alexia’s chest. “It means that I miss you, Alexia. Like, a lot.”

Y/n felt a tear on her cheek, but she quickly cleaned it, she wasn’t going to cry. She was angry and frustrated–with a very good reason–and

“I miss you! But even when you're around we can't do girlfriend stuff because of football, or because of the media, interviews, photoshoots–” Y/n counted down on her finger every little commitment Alexia had on her routine regularly.”

“–and I know you have your career, but–” Okay, maybe she was going to cry a little.

Alexia wrapped her arms around Y/n, bringing her close to her chest. 

“–you have me too.” Y/n finished, finally letting the tears run free as she buried her face in Alexia's chest, letting herself be comforted.

Alexia sat back down on the couch, bringing Y/n with her; the younger girl was straddling her lap, her face resting on Alexia’s neck.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, pressing her forehead against Alexia’s shoulder. The weight of the moment settled between them, thick and unspoken.

Alexia didn’t rush to fill the silence. Instead, she tightened her hold, her fingers tracing slow patterns against Y/n’s back. “Hey,” she murmured after a while, voice soft but sure. “I’ve got you.”

“Calma, tot està bé." [it's okay.] Alexia continued in a soft tone. “Pots plorar, sóc aquí." [“I'm here, you can cry"]

Alexia patted Y/n’s back, chin on the younger girl's head. She rocked Y/n and let her cry for a few minutes, even though she hated the sounds of her girl’s sobs.

When Y/n seemed calmer, Alexia slightly pushed her body away so she could look at her.

 Alexia cleaned some tears on her cheek and kissed the pout on Y/n's face. 

“I’m sorry, mi vida," Alexia said softly, rubbing her thumb over Y/N’s cheek. "I didn’t realize how much this was bothering you.”

Y/n looked down, feeling embarrassed by her outburst. “No, I'm–I'm Sorry, I shouldn't freak out over a stupid TikTok.”

“No, don't say that,” Alexia said, kissing her forehead. “It's not stupid if you care about it, and both of us know it’s more than the TikTok thing,”

“It's just a TikTok trend” Y/n mumbled, feeling like a spoiled brat. “I'm not gonna lose a limb, it's alright, we don't have to do It.” 

“We can do it, sí?” Alexia said. “But you have to explain it to me again.”

Y/n smiled at Alexia. “Ok, I'll explain again.”

“Great!” Alexia said, kissing in on the lips. “And after that, we can sit down and plan a trip just for us.”

Y/n sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “A trip?” she repeated, her voice still slightly shaky. “You don’t have any breaks until July, we can’t make any trips.”

“Not a long trip, no. But I was thinking… Maybe we can steal a weekend for ourselves. Just the two of us.” Alexia hummed, tucking a loose strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. ��Soy la Reina, no? I’ll ask for a day off next Friday, so we’ll have the whole weekend for us.” 

“You don't have to do that just because of me,” Y/n said. “Your career is important, I know it. I was just being… sort of a brat.”

“You weren’t being a brat, don’t say that,” Alexia cupped Y/n’s face. “I've been very busy, I know we haven’t spent a lot of quality time together; I’ll get better at it, okay?”

Y/n nodded, bringing her face to Alexia’s shoulder. 

“I didn't mean it when I said I wanted us to be like everybody else,” Y/n whispered. “I'm sorry I said that.”

Y/n was embarrassed now. Y/n knew she was agreeing to all of this when she and Alexia started dating. She wasn't being fair to Alexia. The players had an opposite life compared to her, a very different one from most people, and Y/ should respect it.

Alexia sighed, rubbing Y/N’s back. “I know it sucks, cariño. I don’t mean to make you feel like an afterthought—it’s just… football takes over everything.”

“I’m sorry it took me some time to see it,” Alexia continued, putting her hand under Y/n’s shoulder and rubbing her back, feeling the slight movement of her breathing.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Tenerife,” Alexia said after a few minutes. “Alba went there last month and said it was very charming.”

“Tenerife is nice,” Y/N mumbled against Alexia’s skin. “It’s got beaches… a volcano… and probably a bunch of cute little cafés.”

“A volcano? That’s cool. Alba didn’t tell me about that.”

“Yeah, it’s a dormant one, but it's interesting, I guess.”

Alexia kissed Y/n’s forehead and rocker again, gently, wanting the girl to feel safe and comfortable.

“We’re going there next week, I’ll buy the plane tickets,” Alexia said. “You just worry about buying cute bikini sets and searching about dormant volcanoes.”

Alexia finally achieved what she wanted. Y/n let out a little giggle, but it soon faded. 

“Ale, really, we don’t have to do it,” Y/n said, taking her head from Alexia's shoulder to meet her eyes. “I don't want to get between you and your calendar, I understand the International season is starting and all that.” 

“Plus, if you really want to take some days off, you could use them to rest, you haven’t taken a break during the whole season.” Y/n continued.

“I’ll be on a beautiful island with a pretty and smart girl by my side,” Alexia said cheekily. “That’d be a proper holiday, of course I’m gonna rest.”

“Plus, it’ll be nice to just... be,” Alexia admitted, rubbing a hand over her neck. “No schedules, no press, no—” she huffed, shaking her head before offering a small, almost shy smile. “Just you and me. That sounds perfect.”

Y/n said nothing, she only buried her face in Alexia’s Barcelona hoodie.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Alexia asked.

“Yes,” Y/n said. “But I’m sorry for crying and making you feel guilty,” Y/n said with a slight flush on her cheeks.

“No, no,” Alexia said, shaking her head. “You don’t apologize, I was in the wrong here.”

She took Y/n’s chin in her hand, looking her in the eyes. 

“I’m not planning this trip out of guilt, alright?” The player promised. “It’s because I really miss doing fun stuff with you… You know, activities that don’t revolve around watching Love Island,” Alexia teased, poking Y/n’s side.

“Wait, what?!” Y/N blinked at her. “All this time and you were just pretending to care about Love Island?”. 

Alexia scrunched her nose. “Yes, cariño, I just watch it because you like it.”

Y/n got out of Alexia’s lap, a betrayed expression on her face.

“Who are you?!”

“I don’t mind watching, I just think it’s boring.”

“Boring?!” Y/n said looking down in disbelief. “I can’t believe it, Ale! You always seemed so excited for the next episode.”

“Because I knew you were excited, bebè,” Alexia smiled at her sweetly. 

“All this time… our whole relationship… built on lies?” Y/n clutched her chest. “Do you even love me, or was that a lie too?”

Alexia, laughing, pulls Y/n back into her lap. “Shh, cariño. No more questions.”

After a moment of exaggerated betrayal, Y/n huffed dramatically but let herself be pulled back into Alexia’s lap. She crossed her arms, still feigning offence.

“You're lucky you’re cute,” she muttered.

Alexia chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s temple. “I know.”

Alexia nuzzled into Y/n’s neck, placing a few lazy kisses there. “So, what’s next?”

Y/n hummed, pretending to think. “Well, since you’ve just shattered my trust, I’d say the only way to fix this relationship is…” She grabbed her phone, waving it slightly.

Alexia narrowed her eyes. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Y/n grinned, already pulling up the TikTok. “So basically we just say ‘suspect and–”

Alexia kept the same smile on her face and Y/n explained it to her. Did she feel tonta doing the Tik Tok? Yes. Did she do it anyway because Y/n asked. Absolutely.

..

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[slutoru1207]

Invincible!Dad x pregnant reader (Bonus scene 2)

Uncle William, Aunt Amber and reader having a sleepover

You, William, and Amber were deep into a “self-care night,” sprawled across her couch in face masks, fuzzy socks, and oversized t-shirts. A half-empty bottle of rosé sat on the coffee table, and the mood? Immaculate.

Amber stretched, taking another sip from her glass. “Okay. Let’s get real.”

William perked up. “Oh? Are we talking shit?”

Amber smirked. “Better. We’re talking sex.”

You nearly choked on your tea. “Oh, we’re just jumping right in, huh?”

Amber shot you a look. “Girl, please. You’re literally pregnant. The time for being shy is long gone.”

William snorted, grabbing a pillow to hug. “She’s got a point, bestie.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I need details.” You wiggled your fingers. “Spill the freaky tea.”

Amber grinned. “Gladly.” She leaned in. “So, I was hooking up with this guy last week, and when I tell you—this man had me on my toes.”

William gasped. “Not the toes.”

Amber nodded, sipping her wine. “Like, I thought I’d seen it all, right? But this dude? Straight-up folded me like a pretzel.”

You cackled. “AMBER—”

William grabbed her arm. “Wait, wait, wait. Describe it.”

Amber smirked. “Let’s just say—ankles over my head, hands pinned, and I saw God.”

You screamed.

William threw his pillow across the room. “BITCH.”

Amber tossed her hair. “What can I say? Man knew what he was doing.”

You fanned yourself. “Okay, well, damn. Now I feel like my stories are boring.”

Amber scoffed. “Oh, hell no. You have Viltrumite dick. Spill. Now.”

William nodded aggressively. “Yes. Bestie. We need to discuss the logistics of being railed by someone with superhuman stamina.”

You took a deep breath. “Alright. Buckle the fuck up.”

Amber and William gasped in unison.

“So,” you continued, setting your glass down. “First off? Man has zero idea how strong he actually is.”

William covered his mouth. “I knew it.”

You nodded. “Like, we’ll be going at it, and sometimes he’ll grip my thighs too tight and boom—bruises.”

Amber nearly choked. “Girl.”

William grabbed your arm. “Does he at least feel bad afterward?”

“Oh, so bad.” You giggled. “Like, full-on puppy dog eyes, ‘Babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you’—and I eat that shit up.”

Amber smirked. “You love it, don’t you?”

You shrugged innocently. “I mean, listen—when a man can pick you up like it’s nothing and hold you against a wall for a whole twenty minutes?” You exhaled dramatically. “It does something to you.”

William screamed.

Amber threw a pillow at you. “BITCH, YOU’RE LIVING MY DREAM.”

William flopped onto the couch. “I knew Mark was secretly a freak. I just knew it.”

You sipped your tea smugly. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Amber and William leaned in instantly.

“Oh, you have to tell us now,” Amber insisted.

You grinned, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Let’s just say… sometimes, when he gets too into it, he starts hovering.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “NO. HE. DOESN’T.”

William slapped the couch. “I KNEW IT.”

You nodded. “Deadass. One second we’re on the bed, next thing I know? We’re floating.”

Amber wheezed. “MA’AM—”

William was losing it. “HOW DO YOU EVEN RECOVER FROM THAT??”

You giggled. “Well, I didn’t freak out, but Mark? This man panicked. He dropped us so fast, we damn near broke the bed frame.”

Amber died. William was crying.

“I hate you,” Amber wheezed.

William wiped fake tears. “This is the best conversation I’ve ever had.”

Amber sniffed dramatically. “Okay, but wildest place?”

You tapped your chin. “Hmm… rooftop of a random-ass building in the city?”

Amber’s jaw dropped.

William threw his pillow across the room. “I— I’m speechless.”

Amber clutched her chest. “You’re thriving.”

You flipped your hair. “Thank you.”

Amber sighed dreamily. “Okay. Now I need to get me a superhero.”

William nodded solemnly. “Girl, same.”

The three of you clinked glasses, your laughter filling the room.

And honestly? This was exactly the kind of chaos you needed.

[marcussour]

EXU Divergence E04 random thoughts and bits

One last time, let's do this

Into the Sam Riegel verse

Now we know Matt should play Rogue (?)

What even was the continuity of the ads anyway

We're starting with a quote by Seven Samurai, that's how you know its gonna be good

That nat 20 for Crokas after becoming smart, was super appropriate

Loved Brennan's explanation of the change in gears for Vasselheim, and how that also ties with how we see the city centuries down the line

What's with the fancy dude and the child?; EDIT after I realized who they were an hour and a half after the episode began: OH, the rich assholes in the Strife Emperor's court and the evil child

Oh, that "self taught?", it kinda stung

Power move with the letter opener by Nia

I've just noticed that Alex has been moving and swaying like a monitor lizard all the episodes, in order to match Crokas' being a dragonborn and like, overall vibe of being like, Godzilla in a small scale

Morgana Thundershield, amazing name

I love that this episode is, thematically, a sorta epilogue of C3. Of course it's not exactly the same, but seeing Vasselheim react to the gods going retreating behind the gate and the impact it had in them, compared with what happened with the gods at the end of C3.

Also, Brennan making the connection between hubris and humility regarding the connection to the divine and faith. *chef's kiss*

"Learn to learn again"

Oh, the explanation to the change of paradigm was brilliant. How divine magic used to be just a call for the gods to intervene, but now, they're based on faith and belief, and the clerics are the conduits, not just people who call upon the gods for them to act

Rux Tallheart, paladin of the Platinum Dragon, another certified Brennan Lee Mulligan's small guy

Oh, that's interesting, not all the gods are accounted for

Welcome to the New World, Erro's telling jokes now

"Nia? Rai'nia?"; "How does this possibly keep happening?"

"the feel when confirmation bias becomes confirmation"

Crokas settled immediately into the routine of showing the Orb whenever someone needs to hear what happened to Liana

"Am I a god?"; "NO"; "Thank you"

Well, we can certainly see where Nia got her charm

"Why do I call you boss?", OH CROKAS GAINED INTROSPECTION

"You were the best victory prize I ever got"; "I think you need to examine those words a little bit. And how that might make me feel. That you don't refer to me as your child, but as your bodyguard"

Oh, I've been waiting for the first episode for this conversation to happen. You could tell that despite everything, Fiedra always had a wall between her and Crokas, and how he wasn't able to even articulate what that meant or how did he feel. And there's a lot to unpack about Fiedra, she was sorta kinda "thriving" (for lack of a better word) in the Strife Emperor's prison, and she's never like, hide that she isn't what you may call a "good person" in the traditional sense due to the circumstances surrounding her upbringing, you know, experiencing all the cruelty and violence while growing up an orphan. I get that she cared about him in her own way, and tried to do the right thing with what she had available, but there's also some utilitarianism in the way she treated Crokas that, of course was gonna come up into the surface the moment Crokas could finally put words to those feelings.

See, Crokas knows it, the rest of the roaches were "her boys", but he was just "the bodyguard". Again, this whole "I get what you were trying to do or where you are coming from, but those intentions never translated into actions, or at least you never expressed what those actions were supposed to be" kinda way

"I needed a mom, not to fight for a boss"

Oh, now I'm starting to suspect the Key, like, that's like a suspicious timing

That "There Will Be Blood" reference was spot on

The Key has an awakened state?

Fiedra, honey, I'm sure this isn't going to end well

See, told ya

I knew there was something else going on with the key

Garen Hearthheart

Oh that Predator handshake between Matt and Brennan was just, incredible

"The Gate is built by heart alone, though hearts be held by flesh and bone, and flesh and bone by earth and stone. The door we make, when lock we break, will bridge the waters, roads to take. The stones that stand to staunch the flood, freedom found by toil and blood. By stone betrayed, the seal is made. The hand that holds the heart that prayed. The stairs it shaped, the debts it paid. The gate is shaped, the keystone layed."

Yeah, that little moment gave me all the emotions.

Also, intended or not, the dwarven script?prayer?chant? kinda sound a bit like a poem about the structure of this mini campaign, doesn't it?

It seems to me that Erro's got some type of connection to Bahamut that goes beyond what his parents' faith and what they used to do

Loved the idea of like, the spell rules are basically the new rules of Divine Magic, and they're still being settled, so the Moonweaver can kinda bend them a bit

Look at Liana just, giving the ultra abridged version of the events of Downfall

Of course Brennan wouldn't resist having Asmodeus back again one final (?) time

Oh, so there was something else regarding the way the gods made themselves mortals and why they forgot who they were supposed to be. Also, many more came but never found out who they were.

Ok, I'm calling it now, Erro is Bahamut.

Look at Fiedra trying to make things up and good with Crokas. Good for them.

Love the idea of Crokas going full Batman in Vasselheim. Like, imagine a monk that's basically a miniature Godzilla (which is still huge in this case), jumping through the buildings. Kinda like Absolute Batman I guess, in terms of size.

It is amazing in retrospective to think that Nia is basically the founder of the way divine magic will be practiced in Exandria up until, basically, the end of Campaign 3 (and probably even after that, like, divine magic is still there, even if the gods reverted to mortal form). This kind, young girl who had to endure so much, became a self taught cleric that in a way became the standard for most of religious practitioners, at least of the Prime Deities.

NGL, I'm gonna miss the sound that Celia's hair and their braids make and how it goes through the mic

NOT THE FIREWORK EXTRAVAGANZA AGAIN??!!

All that Batmaning helped Crokas with that Nat20 in stealth

Glad that Jasmine went straight into singing System of a Down

They're rolling inside a chapel, I'm kinda surprised that nobody has done a "Chapel Roll" joke

Satan?!

Oh, thankfully Jasmine remembered the change of DC

"STOP FIDGETING", fuck yeah, nice callback

Oh, the way the dice conspired for Garen to just, obliterate the stone pillar

68 points of damage to the pillar, as a level 0 character, freakin' Matt Mercer

Crokas going full Godzilla vs the Muto

Seriously, thanks to Alex for finally showing the world the idea that the coolest fucking thing ever is basically Batman Godzilla

ASMODEUS

Fuckin' key man, I knew there was something shady

Oh, the fucked up boy was a vessel for Asmodeus

Brennan's got the Lord of the Hells just, nailed to a T, he basically made how he's supposed to be in Exandria, there's an edge and a special charisma to him that I really kinda missed when Matt played him in the final episodes of the C3, where it kinda felt a bit more, stereotypical evil. I remember writing in one of these posts something similar, there was a moment when Asmodeus talked with Braius and that was the best moment when Matt kinda channeled Asmodeus the way Brennan played him. Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't a dig at Matt, is just, Brennan basically made the blueprint so whenever it kinda veers a bit, it feels odd.

"It's dwarven for 'get fucked'"

I was waiting for someone to roll into the "ASMODEUS" part from Ghost's "Year Zero"

We went full Kingdom Hearts with the key going into Timothy's chest and giving it a soul

You can add a Timothy to your inventory

Why is Asmodeus so focused on Garen btw?

And down goes Erro, like a fucking boss, saving Garen in his last moment, what a legend

That "thank you for setting me free" sounded like a thing a God would say to me

"I Lied"

The Moonweaver went to the Lord of the Hells and told him "you can't bullshit a bullshitter", and it was glorious

See, the Platinum Dragon returned just as Erro died

Oh Liam

"I think you have a second chance to be somebody's mom... Don't fuck it up"

I WAS BORN TO BE A HOME FOR THE DEVIL

Kephekedriel!!

"I wanna be different"

Crokas founder of the Cobalt Soul confirmed

I love Crokas so much, what an amazing character

And now I'm sobbing

To teach people that no matter how lonely they feel, they're never alone

Oh, now only Matt and Brennan are at the table, I just know this is gonna be special

Dragonstrike!

Look at Garen founding Kraghammer, we've seen already 2 cities being founded

A town named Bend you say? In a swamp? This is Stilben isn't it?

It's still Bend, hahahaha, amazing

Oh, Liam's back, what's going on

Erro was Bahamut, I knew it

Oh wait, wait... is Garen the All Hammer?

That "gotcha" from Brennan

"That world that YOU created"

Oh, and it was special in the subtitles

I just joined the dots, this was all a love letter to Exandria and to Matt's work, incredible

Oh man, Liam describing everything with such joy like, the love letter to Matt

The voices weren't memories, they were prayers

What a world he made

It's clear that Matt had no idea this was going to happen

This brought me memories from Liam's one shot and the way he basically expressed his love for his friends back then

Two brothers, from eternity until forever

Well, that ending was marvelous. What a way to cap 10 years of storytelling.

[141goblin]

Soft: Part Five

MDNI!!!

CW: Slightly smutty, John Price being DOWN BAD for reader, swearing.

A/N: hi hi hi! I know its been a hot minute since I continued this story, but I hope you all love it. I have created a masterlist, so you'll be able to find all parts in one place :3

It's well into the day when my sweet girl finally decides to text me back. Poor thing, probably nursing a hangover. I have to stop myself from getting in my car and driving over there, burying my face between those perfect, plush thighs of hers and eating her out until her hangover melts out of her ears. Easy, John. While I'm waiting for her text, I allow myself to indulge in my thoughts a little. Is my big, sweet girl experienced? Has she been properly fucked? Fucked and worshipped until she,s a puddle of limbs and jelly on her mattress, until she cant form a coherent thought, until her heartbeat pounds in her ears and her head feels like its filled with cotton wool. I’m not quite sure which side I’d prefer; my sweet girl that doesn’t know how to please herself and another man, or the version of her in my head that can float around the bedroom, exuding pure sex and femininity. The thought of another man having his hands on her makes the ugly, burning desire to cause pain at the base of my skull flare up, the worst part of me that I want, no need, to keep far away from sweet thing if im going to make her mine, and I fully intend to make her mine. 

My phone buzzes on the coffee table and my cock simulataneously twitches in my pants at the sheer possibility that it might be her. Pavlov’s fucking dog, or something. It is her, full of apologies for her little rant last night, offering to give me my jacket back. Bless her, too polite for her own good. Where’s that fire I saw last night, dove? My mind drifts to my jacket that she has, the one I draped over her shoulders last night. I imagine hanging up somewhere in her flat, an observer as my girl goes about her day. I don't want to get it back yet, I want her to have a reminder of me for as long as possible. I need to be in her head the way she’s in mine, made a little home for herself up there, she has. I find my cheeks rounding out in a smile when I remember how it looked on her, draped perfectly and practically swallowing her whole, despite her size. What would my T-shirts look like on her? God, just imagining it has me chubbing up in my trousers. The cotton clinging to her delicious curves, pulled tight around her waist until it looks like a second skin, riding up when she bends over…

My cigar rests between my lips, forgotten in favour of my phone as I type out a reply. I wonder if she’s glued to her phone like I am, heart pounding and head spinning as we converse through a screen. I hope so. The text gets sent and my phone sits idle on my thigh as I wait to see the three little bubbles that tell me she's typing, but they don't come. Come on, angel. Work with me here. I pick it up again, thumbs hovering over the keys as I fight an internal battle with myself. My beautiful girl isn’t going to be easily won over, I know that much. Texting her again would be too much, I decide. Where’s the fun in it? She’ll come to me, I’m sure of it. Or at least, that’s what I'm telling myself as I pour myself another whisky, feet propped up on the coffee table and chest rising and falling with impatience as I wait for my phone to buzz again.  It’s almost laughable, what a pretty, soft, fiery woman has reduced me to; Captain John Price, glued to his phone, fingers tapping against the glass as he waits for a text from a girl he’s met once. Maybe she’ll keep me young. Her beautiful self floats around my skull for longer than I’d care to admit; as I watch the footy, as I do paperwork in my office, as I shower before bed, as I lay down with my hand fisting my cock, imagining what noises she’d make, how she’d look with her eyes full of pleasure, how she’d respond if I worked orgasm after orgasm out of her… That night, I sleep better than I have for a long time.

[sophieinwonderland]

@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes

This is going to be a long response and it would be hard to cover everything in the comments alone.

First, I want to point out that most psychologists would argue that people with dissociative identity disorder do not have multiple personalities. That's part of why they changed the name. The more popular conceptualizarion in the psychological field would be that each alter of somebody with dissociative identity disorder is part of one personality. In the DSM-5 and the ICD-11, the term that is used for alters is "personality states." Various other terms have been used like "dissociative part" or "dissociative identities."

Now, a lot of people with DID disagree with this. This view can be kind of controversial within the community because many feel that each alter is its own person. But there are many who view each alter as part of one single personality. Views are diverse within the community.

The fact that they are aspects of a single personality doesn't really do as much to distinguish them as you might think.

With that said, as far as I know, pretty much the only thing the creator actually said on the topic is that they don't have dissociative identity disorder. There are many other kinds of plurality outside of dissociative disorders though which are not pathological. Soulbonding, tulpamancy, daemonism, protogenic systems who were born plural, etc.

Just because the creator says that the character doesn't have dissociative identity disorder does not rule out other kinds of plurality.

For determining if a character is canonically plural, it isn't really about whether the author intended for the character to be plural, or whether the character identifies as plural. What matters is whether or not the character, within the fictional narrative, is shown to meet a standard for plurality.

On the canonically plural blog, there is a light standard given in its pinned for people to go on.

I have given a more elaborate one though in another post that might be worth checking out.

While I would advise reading the whole post, at the very least, I think that the following checklist is relevant.

Are the Sides autonomous? Do they have agency that is separate from that of Thomas, being able to act outside of his conscious control?

Do they have their own perspectives, recognizing themselves as their own distinct entities with their own separate wants and desires? Is this shown in the way they communicate with each other and with Thomas?

Do they have their own memories demonstrating that they are long-term entities? As opposed to something that is short-term like a dream character? And do they apply their individual perspectives to those memories? For example, one might remember being angry or scared about the same event that another could remember being happy with?

And finally, do they possess self-awareness and awareness of the outside world?

To me, it seems clear the Sides meet this criteria.

The way that they are portrayed within the narrative demonstrates their plurality.

Now, perhaps you will still argue that they are just representations of the aspects of a singlet. That this is all just metaphor. But personifying emotions to the point where they have their own names and distinct identities makes those emotions plural within the narrative they are presented in.

In real life, the sides of a singlet don't have their own names. They may possess agency in the way that you might not be able to control when you get angry or when you feel anxiety, but they won't have full-fledged conversations or arguments with other parts. The parts wouldn't joke with each other. They wouldn't interact with each other in an inner world.

To put this another way: if we were to define a plural system as a body with multiple people, and you personify the parts of a fictional character, that fictional character is plural by default because now the personified parts are people and the body has multiple people in it within the narrative. That is what it means to personify something in a story. You are giving something that wasn't a person all of the traits of a person. Personifying a character's sides or emotions makes them plural because they have multiple people in their head within the narrative.

Thomas Sanders from the Youtube series Sanders Sides is canonically plural!!

Reasoning is that the different elements of him (morality, logic, creativity, etc) have their own appearances and personalities, and they all work together to deal with Thomas' struggles and life.

.

[st-dionysus]

We've had strap ons since at least 400 BC, and people still have the nerve to go on gay hook up apps and ask "how can an FTM be a top?"

[revvethasmythh]

Caleb: Part of me is selfish and wants to carve [what I did] out of my past

Nott: That's not selfish. That's important

Caleb: It's dangerous, not just to me

Nott: Oh. Well, I think I understand a little of that, too. There are things I want to change as well. Things.....that would be risky to change. But sometimes you have to take a big risk, if it's that important.

Caleb: That is true. You are my greatest friend

Nott: Little 'ole me?

Caleb: I like you because you are funny, but it's more than that. We will get you what you want. Even if there is some risk. Because if it's really important, it's worth the risk, ja?

Nott, steeling herself: Yes.

THE LAYERS. THE LACK OF CONTEXT. THE FRIENDSHIP. INCREDIBLE ALL AROUND.

[arcadianico]

it makes so much sense that quackity couldn’t talk to SOPHIA about love without also talking about grief btw. the two are so intertwined in the smp as a whole but especially in qquackity’s story. his love and grief are inextricable from each other, they’re symbiotic

[tortoisesshells]

65.

[5yn]

Shaddiq's speech about his ideologies and motivations should've been directed at Miorine instead of freaking Guel who he has negative narrative chemistry with but I can only assume Shaddiq himself would've stopped the writers from making that a reality because Miorine's heart is too delicate to understand his resentment of the system and she belongs in a nice garden on earth that he would've given to her after he takes over because he's so thoughtful and nice like that

[bubble-you]

create progeny (have purpose) create something that is "yours" through unity or love or eros or something, experience tension & release & the expansion/devouring/penetration of your identity, let them also create progeny, the planet is overpopulating and who needs more of us, well that is a question for another time, a later generation, when time comes that overpopulation threatens our need for food, water, shelter, normal temperatures, we'll change purposes.

or. or we could become climate change scientists and work on. prolonging the cycle of. prolonging the life of the energy that we depend on. (don't know how we did it before and survived 3000 years like the egyptians did. agriculture? bronze and iron tools? maths? how big was their empire, population-wise? i guess the need for energy is not so great when you don't have the internet or ai or large scale mining or computers or cars. just slaves.

this sort of answers my question about how did the philosophers in ancient greece... live. like if they didn't produce food, or labour, or "production" in the industrial sense. i imagine it's something like, there are warring tribes (as there were in china too) and you need philosophers, because in the neverending cycle of chaos and order, how do you find what is good? what should the goals of a ruler be, anyway? what should a person aim to do? what is the best way to govern? how can people be happy? should people be happy? how do you find your ideals? and so philosophy was something people needed, something that it was absolutely worth giving the surplus production to.

[imaginarypasta]

i’ve complained about it before and the way it’s going, i’ll probably do it again. but i don’t like being recorded in my own home!! like yeah i’ll assert that every time no pause but i will complain about it because tell me why i have to do it soooo often

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[pearlywritings]

Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the sheets. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.

[solxamber]

You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: First Years (-Ortho)

Other parts: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo

Ace Trappola

The argument wasn’t loud—no yelling, no dramatic walkouts—just tense words exchanged with a little too much bite. Ace had been his usual smug self, which, unsurprisingly, only made you more pissed off.

So, rather than continue arguing, you grabbed a blanket, stomped off to the couch, and flopped down with a huff. If he wanted to be insufferable, fine. He could enjoy the bed all to himself.

You had just started arranging the cushions when you heard footsteps.

Then, before you could even process what was happening, a pillow dropped onto the couch beside yours, and Ace casually sprawled out like he had been invited.

You blinked. “Ace??”

He glanced at you, completely at ease. “What? We’re sleeping here tonight, right?”

You stared at him, then at the couch, then back at him. “We?”

Ace, the menace that he was, patted the tiny sliver of space beside him like he hadn’t just hijacked your whole plan.

You gawked at him. “You have an entire bed.”

“Yeah, but you’re here.”

“That’s the point, Ace!”

He had the audacity to grin. “Exactly. So, obviously, I’m here too.”

You gaped at him, absolutely stunned at the sheer level of his nonsense. Meanwhile, he just folded his arms behind his head, getting even more comfortable.

You glared. He grinned wider.

Then, after a long moment, he scratched his cheek, his bravado slipping just a little. “...Okay, maybe I should’ve asked first.” He glanced at you, a little sheepish. “But, uh. I don’t like going to bed when you’re mad at me. So… can I stay?”

The worst part? He actually looked kind of earnest. Like he meant it. Like this wasn’t just another one of his schemes to get his way, but something real.

Your irritation wavered. Damn it.

With a dramatic sigh, you gave in, flopping down beside him.

Ace, the absolute menace, beamed like he had just won the lottery. Then, without missing a beat, he threw an arm around you and pulled you right into his chest.

“You’re insufferable,” you grumbled against his hoodie.

“Mm. But cuddly, right?”

“…Shut up.”

He snickered, pressing a quick, lazy kiss to your forehead. “Love you too.”

And, annoyingly enough, you found yourself smiling as you drifted off—because, as much as he drove you insane, Ace Trappola was impossible to stay mad at.

Deuce Spade

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no dramatic exits—just an exchange of clipped words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Deuce had been tense, his frustration clear in the way he crossed his arms, in the tightness of his jaw. You weren’t much better, snapping back at him until the conversation hit a dead end, leaving you both too stubborn to fix it in the moment.

So, rather than risk making it worse, you grabbed a blanket and went to the couch, throwing yourself onto it with the kind of determination that came from being just annoyed enough to stick to your decision. You adjusted the pillows, tucked the blanket around yourself, and ignored the way the room felt too quiet now.

Behind you, there was a pause. A shuffle of feet. Deuce lingered, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work. The couch was fine, but it wasn’t your bed. And the silence—the weight of the unspoken apology hanging between you—only made it worse.

You half-expected Deuce to just go to bed, to let you sleep off your irritation. But then—soft footsteps. Hesitant, careful. He stopped just behind the couch, lingering for a moment before speaking.

“…Can you come back?”

His voice was quieter now, no longer laced with frustration, just uncertainty.

You didn’t move.

A longer pause. Then, softer, “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, already halfway to turning around, ready to tell him that you were sorry too, that this was stupid, that you just wanted to sleep—

Then you heard it. A quiet sniffle.

Your heart lurched.

You shot up, turning so fast the blanket nearly slipped off. Deuce was standing there, head slightly bowed, arms tense at his sides. He wasn’t crying, not really, but his eyes were red-rimmed, his breathing unsteady, his lips pressed together like he was trying to keep everything in.

Oh.

Your frustration vanished instantly.

“Deuce,” you breathed, already reaching for him.

He stiffened for a moment when your fingers brushed his wrist, but then, slowly, he let you pull him toward the bed. He didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate. The second you both reached the mattress, you wrapped your arms around him, tugging him close, feeling the way his shoulders finally relaxed under your touch.

His breath shuddered against your skin. He held onto you tightly, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. You squeezed him in return, as he pressed his face into your neck, letting the warmth between you say what words couldn’t.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured after a long moment, his voice quieter, steadier.

You ran your hand down his back, a slow, soothing motion. “Me too.”

His breathing evened out, his grip loosening just slightly. Neither of you spoke after that. There wasn’t a need to. You just held him, letting the warmth settle, letting the tension fade.

Jack Howl

The argument had been sharper than usual—words exchanged with too much heat, frustration lacing every syllable. Jack’s ears had flattened, his tail flicking sharply behind him, while your own patience had worn thin.

Neither of you had raised your voice, but the weight of it had been enough. Enough that when silence finally fell between you, it felt like standing on the edge of something unsteady.

So, in an act of pure pettiness, you had grabbed a blanket and stormed off to the couch, settling in with all the stubborn determination of someone who refused to be the first to cave. You curled up, pulling the blanket tight around yourself, pointedly ignoring the way the room still felt charged with unresolved tension.

For a while, there was nothing. No footsteps following, no hushed words attempting to fix things. Just silence. You shifted, adjusting the pillow beneath your head, exhaling sharply. Fine. If Jack wanted to sleep alone tonight, so be it.

Then—the faintest creak of the floorboards.

You blinked, turning over just enough to peer into the dim light of the living room. Jack was there, sitting stiffly on the couch opposite you, his arms crossed, tail curled loosely around the edge of the cushion. He didn’t look at you directly, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead, expression unreadable.

You furrowed your brows. “…What are you doing?”

His ears twitched. A beat of hesitation. Then, a quiet, gruff reply.

“Go to sleep. I’m just keeping watch.”

Something in your chest ached at that. Even after the argument, after the sharp words exchanged, he was still looking out for you. He always did.

You sighed, sitting up, the tension in your body already loosening. “Jack.”

He glanced at you then, ears flicking back slightly, wary.

Without another word, you stood, dragging the blanket with you as you crossed the room. Jack stiffened slightly when you reached for his wrist, but he didn’t pull away. You tugged, gentle but firm.

“Come back to bed.”

He hesitated. Then, slowly, he let himself be pulled up, following you without resistance.

The moment you both settled back onto the mattress, his tail curled around you instinctively, pulling you just that much closer. The warmth of it, of him, seeped into your skin, comforting in a way words couldn’t quite capture.

A quiet exhale. Then, low, barely above a whisper—

“…I’m sorry.”

You pressed closer, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry too.”

Neither of you said anything after that. There was no need to. The steady rise and fall of his breath, the solid weight of his arm draped over you, the way his tail tightened slightly before finally relaxing—everything else could wait.

For now, this was enough.

Epel Felmier

The argument had spiraled out of control so fast that you barely remembered how it even started. One second, it was just a disagreement—sharp words exchanged, but nothing too serious. And then, all at once, it was a mess, voices raised, frustration bleeding into every syllable.

You had hit your limit first. Not because you didn’t have more to say, but because you were just too tired. Too tired to keep fighting, too tired to keep letting the hurt simmer in your chest. So, without another word, you had grabbed a blanket and settled on the couch, turning your back to the bedroom.

The anger still sat heavy in your stomach, but beneath it, sadness gnawed at the edges. You hated arguing with him. Hated the way silence felt like a wall between you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to just sleep through it, to let the exhaustion pull you under.

It worked—for a while.

Then, the sharp clatter of pans yanked you back into consciousness.

You blinked blearily, registering the soft muttering, the sound of something nearly toppling over, the distinct smell of something cooking. Still wrapped in your blanket, you dragged yourself off the couch, stumbling toward the kitchen.

Epel was standing at the stove, back turned to you, gripping a pan with slightly unsteady hands. His hair was still messy from sleep, and even though his voice was quiet, you could hear the edge of frustration in the low curses under his breath.

You hesitated in the doorway, taking in the scene. The counter was a mess, a dish towel discarded haphazardly, the remnants of a nearly-spilled carton of eggs sitting precariously close to the edge.

At the sound of your footsteps, he stiffened slightly. Then, without turning, he muttered, “Go back to bed. I’ll bring it to you.”

His voice was rough, but not unkind. Just strained.

You stepped closer, noticing the way his shoulders were set too tight, the way his fingers clenched the pan handle like he was trying to steady himself. And when he finally turned just enough that you could see his face—he still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

Your heart clenched.

Without thinking, you reached forward, gently prying his fingers from the pan. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. The moment his hands were free, they hovered awkwardly at his sides—until, in one swift motion, he grabbed you and held on tight.

His arms wrapped around you, his grip desperate, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, breath warm against your skin as he exhaled shakily.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick with something heavy. “I shouldn’t’ve pushed you that hard. Shouldn’t’ve let it get that bad.”

You softened instantly, guilt pressing at the edges of your own frustration. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly, hands smoothing over his back. “I’m sorry too.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just holding onto each other, letting the warmth settle between you.

Then, after a pause, you murmured, “C’mon. You’re gonna burn the eggs.”

Epel let out a small laugh against your shoulder before finally pulling back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, alright.”

You nudged him toward the stove, settling beside him. Together, you finished making breakfast, the quiet weight between you easing with every passing second.

Sebek Zigvolt

The argument had been bad. Worse than usual. Sebek had always been intense, but tonight had been different—his voice sharper, his stance rigid with frustration, his words carrying the weight of something neither of you had been willing to back down from.

So you had done the only thing you could think of before either of you said something you’d truly regret. You left.

Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off to the couch, body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. You barely managed to settle in before you heard heavy footsteps marching straight toward you.

Then, a firm voice cut through the quiet.

“Take the bed.”

You cracked an eye open, already exhausted. Sebek stood at the edge of the couch, arms crossed, expression unyielding. His stance was as rigid as ever, but there was something beneath the surface—something uncertain, something hesitant.

You exhaled through your nose and turned over, pulling the blanket higher. “Go to sleep, Sebek.”

“I will. Once you’re in the bed where you belong.”

You groaned, but before you could snap at him, he was suddenly kneeling beside the couch, eyes burning with unshaken resolve. His voice dropped lower, quieter, the sharpness softened at the edges.

“A knight cannot allow their beloved to sleep on the couch. It is unbecoming. Please.” His jaw tightened for a moment before he exhaled and added, “I… I should not have let it get this far. I should not have raised my voice at you.” His head bowed slightly, shoulders stiff. “I am sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. Sebek was loud. He was brash. He was stubborn beyond reason. But kneeling there, humbled in the quiet glow of the moonlight, his apology raw and unguarded—you felt your own frustration ebb.

Slowly, you sat up, watching the way his hands clenched against his knees. And then, instead of answering, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

Sebek froze.

Then, before he could react, you grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged.

He let out a startled noise as you dragged him onto the couch, his balance thrown as he landed beside you. The couch was too small—he was too tall, too broad, and neither of you fit properly. But you didn’t care.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, pressing against his chest, letting his warmth ease the last remnants of your anger.

Sebek let out a strangled sound, arms hovering as if unsure whether to hold you or allow you to push him away. When you didn’t, when you simply curled closer, his hesitation melted.

With a deep exhale, he shifted, adjusting his position so he could wrap his arms around you. His hold was steady, protective, his warmth seeping into your bones.

“…This couch is entirely unsuitable for sleeping,” he grumbled, but his voice had lost its earlier edge.

You huffed a quiet laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Then go to bed.”

A pause.

“…No.”

You smiled against the fabric of his shirt, and he squeezed you a little tighter. The couch was too small, the position awkward, but as long as he was holding you, it was enough.

Masterlist

[celestefox13]

.... Anyone else flashback to the banters between Solas and Bull in Inquisition where they played a mental chess game and Solas won because of a play with a pawn? And how he slowly inched that pawn across the board during those banters? (Like he positions Rook and helps slowly "inch" them across the "board" to checkmate the Gods?)

Or about the banters between Solas and Sera about the Friends of Red Jenny, and how he couldn't really wrap his mind around the group's entire goal just being help in small ways without any significant goal truly in mind? (Like how he couldn't wrap his mind around facing, accepting, and processing regrets the way Rook does to escape the Fade prison because he's always thinking too big picture and grand purposes)

Or, perhaps one of the most interesting, the banters between Solas and Varric about Orzammar and how it is in the current time of the games? (And how all the questions Solas asks echoes or points to both what happened to the Elvhen empire and what he intends to do to try to fix his mistake?)

Or the banter where Viv asks if Solas enjoys seeing himself as the villain? And their banters discussing the Circle, and Viv's political prowess, and how "in another age" she "would've ruled an empire?"

Or banters with Dorian about spirits and magic, and how they are used in Tevinter? And on slavery in general? (And how those conversations are a very big part of Dorian actually thinking about the slaves in Tevinter in a meaningful way)

Or with Cassandra about the burdens of leadership and how Cass stepped aside from leading/making decisions for the Inquisition as a whole cause she recognized/felt she wasn't the one to wield such power? Or the one where Cass wonders if the Archdemons are "pets" to beings who no longer exist?

Anyone else thinking about the banters that weren't with Cole about spirits and how to "ground" one's self in the real world, or with Blackwall about being men that have seen war and done cruel things and have had to live a lie until caught in the lie? But were more about the nuances of lives lived and currently being lived; and the status quo and how it was vs how it is vs how it maybe should be; and the very core of his being and true beliefs and how he could find some kind of echo of each with the members of the Inquisition, reflecting and foiling in turn?

Just me? Cool, cool, cool