#she wanted them back. that's all she wanted. that's all she's ever wanted.

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it��s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[astonmartinii]

day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco

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user1: yall global warming might just be real

user2: you're only just realising it now ?

charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?

yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?

charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you

oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(

charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?

yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside

charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see

oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us

user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't

user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?

user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george

user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner

yourusername: please don't give them any ideas

oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩

landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?

yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?

landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents

oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo

landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL

yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man

landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?

yourusername: no.

user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her

user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure

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user10: i personally blame all of you for this

user11: and what??? i'm so excited

user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass

charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/

maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking

charles_leclerc: how would you know?

maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog

charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???

maxverstappen1: NO?

yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen

charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?

yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out

user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year

user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?

yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless

yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help

maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT

oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them

maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping

oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well

user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?

user16: a comedic genius

yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you

oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you

yourusername: i love you more

alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic

yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?

alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone

yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli

olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))

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user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie

olliebearman: i think it's cute

olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke

user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family

olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)

yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!

user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear

charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days

user19: sorry?

charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER

fernandoalo_oficial: and me?

charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man

fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are

charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion

fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children

charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit

charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA

maxverstappen1: well....

pepemarti: hi !!!

dinobeganovic: hey.....

yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie

user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them

lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting

yourusername: tell me about it

olliebearman: but not me :(

yourusername: no we love you

oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one

olliebearman: omg thank you :3

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris

yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless

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user22: what was the dress code here?

landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm

yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?

landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...

yourusername: yk what, whatever !

user23: omg of course leo was there as well

yourusername: we only invited charles for him

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

landonorris: he was invited ????

oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more

landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is

yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT

oscarpiastri: god i love you

yourusername: i love you even more

oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible

yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas

oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch

yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you

oscarpiastri: you're so romantic

georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence

yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???

oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way

maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off

georgerussell63: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well

maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me

maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently

yourusername: awwww thanks max!

oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy

georgerussell63: how did i lose this?

user24: max out here getting wags on his side

maxverstappen1: that's my ma

maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest

maxverstappen1: that's my home girl

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and 1,094,577 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍

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user25: oh they want me dead

user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake

user27: drop the recipe please xxx

yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it

user28: woman of the people

yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...

oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs

landonorris: he's not wrong

maxverstappen1: you're in my will now

charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law

yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?

charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension

landonorris: like father like son

charles_leclerc: huh?

landonorris: huh?

oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!

yourusername: fine.

yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality

yourusername: happy?

oscarpiastri: yes

oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS

maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight

georgerussell63: @fia i told yall

yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?

georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER

yourusername: you'll never prove it :P

user29: oscar is such a sassy man

yourusername: he gets it from his momma

oscarpiastri: and you :)

yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you

landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???

oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,130,672 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law

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user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now

user32: i NEED to know who asked for them

alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m

oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?

charles_leclerc: semantics

oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much

charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!

oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man

charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie

olliebearman: score !!!

user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they

user34: i think we're stuck with it

charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???

charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand

yourusername: he does have amazing taste

oscarpiastri: thank you :3

yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx

oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march

charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?

charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)

kimiantonelli: score !!!

yourusername: we would love to !

oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?

charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that

oscarpiastri: okay?

user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news

yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him

oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people

user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn

fin.

note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx

[nullen-void]

For a long time I wondered if the final TF2 comic would ever come out. For a longer time I wondered if I wanted it to. They built it up so much, hyped the Administrator's big plan so high, and then waited so long, could they possibly ever meet expectations?

I don't know if what they did was what they originally planned, or if there even was a plan, but I think they knocked it out of the park. It feels... right.

And it cemented the Administrator as one of the most terrifying villains in history. But before I discuss that, SPOILERS:

It was all pointless. None of it ever mattered.

The Gravel Wars, the fighting, the Australium, the deaths, the Classic Mercs, none of it mattered at all. Because Helen or whatever her name is just an addict getting her fix.

She kept a man alive for near enough two hundred years, trapped in the moment just before death by a thousand diseases, because she dedicated her life so thoroughly to ending him that when he finally croaked, she had nothing left. So she brought him back to suffer more. And then extended her OWN life so she could keep making him suffer.

And she doesn't even remember why. She was a child when Zepheniah Mann killed her parents, and she's something like a hundred and seventy years old now. It's been three normal lifetimes since then, and she's forgotten. But she never forgot the hate.

She sabotaged two infant's futures by raising them to be bafoons just to hurt their father. She orchestrated a forever war to spite a single man. She was prepared to keep this going until the heat death of the universe.

Do you know what would have happened if Pauling had lost her nerve and admitted they found a new stash of magic metal? With all three Mann brothers dead, she probably would have gone after Olivia. The last Mann standing, and a girl who at the time was only seven and had barely any connection to the Mann legacy at all, and probably didn't know her grandfather's name! And Helen would have gone after her and ruined her life just to make Zepheniah watch as yet another generation of Mann was ruined.

What a pointless, misspent life. What a waste of time. What an ending.

It makes what comes next all the greater. Scout and Soldier are dads with happy children, Spy still can't admit their relation but gets to be part of his grandkids' lives and he and Jeremy trust each other enough that Scout doesn't blink when he takes his mask off. Team Fortress is happy. They moved on. Found new lives.

Helen couldn't. She had all the time in the world and then some, and she just couldn't move on.

What a waste.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

vi sucking on your tits while you grind against her abs🤤

nsfw. a bit ooc maybe but i think vi would be a bit needy and whiney while topping if she is horny enough.

“That feel good, baby?”

It absolutely does. It’s probably the most filthy thing you’ve ever done, grinding your wet, needy cunt on your girlfriend’s abdomen, feeling each firm ridge and how her stomach rises and caves with each breath. Vi looks so blissed out, eyes fluttering open and shut as she tried to keep focus and help you grind against her.

You don’t answer her, far too gone, but she is no longer focused on dirty talk. Not when your pretty tits are moving with every movement, pressed together by your elbows as your hands grasp her shoulders for support. She doesn’t even try to hold back from maneuvering you a little so that her greedy mouth can reach them.

She doesn’t even try to tease you, much too impatient for that. Vi wraps her lips around one of your nipples, her muffled moans creating vibrations through your chest.

“Don’t stop please, that feels-“ You whine when she uses teeth on the soft bud and soothes it with her warm tongue, always quick to pacify your little whines and jolts when she gets too rough, “feels so good..”

Is she even listening anymore? Vi’s head is spinning as you grind further against her, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. Your scent is making her dizzy. You smell so sweet and yet the arousal is thick, driving her crazy. One of her hands leaves your hips to palm your tit that she just lavished attention to so that she can suck on the other.

Just one enthusiastic flick of her tongue over your nipple sends you over. Your legs tremble, threatening to give out, but Vi is strong and helps you ride out the high as she sucks hickeys all over your chest now. When you come down, she doesn’t let up, her mouth latching onto a nipple once more.

“V-Vi?” No response except for a muffled moan. “Vi, I came already, you can stop-“

She lets go of your tit in her mouth with a soft, wet pop. “Can’t I just do this for a little longer? You don’t have to cum again if you don’t want to, baby..”

She has heart in her eyes, trying to plead with you while struggling to gaze back down to your tits. It makes you weak to imagine the next hour of just having Vi on top of you, blissed out with one of your nipples in between her lips. It’s not a scenario you’re unfamiliar with, either.

“Yeah, but I think I’m too tired for another round.”

She smiles triumphantly and flips you onto your back, wrapping her arms around your torso and switching from sensual, rough attention on your chest to soft pecks and use of her soothing tongue. It’s something many people would find sexual even on its own, but you view it almost as a source of aftercare (which she will provide much more of if needed).

[rizzanon]

05 | UNTOUCHED MEMORIES

m.list | prev | next

Things between you and Damian weren’t perfect, but they were better. Slightly better.

Since that day, the tension that used to hang heavy between you had softened, just a little. He no longer avoided you like the plague, nor did he try to dismiss you every chance he got. Sure, there were still moments where you clashed—Damian was Damian, after all—but now, it didn’t feel like an outright war. It was more… playful. Almost.

He still had his sharp remarks, but they didn’t cut as deep anymore. And you? You’d give them right back, though with less heat than before. It was oddly satisfying to watch him bristle, his retorts coming slower and more thoughtful, like he was beginning to actually enjoy the verbal sparring. Though he definitely wouldn’t admit that.

One day, you decided to test the waters further.

You found Damian in the sitting room, a book in his hands and Titus curled up at his feet. He didn’t look up as you approached, though you knew he’d already noticed you.

“Hey, Damian,” you said, holding the plate out in front of you.

He finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “What is it now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. I made these with Alfred. Thought you might want to try them.”

He eyed the plate suspiciously, like it might explode if he touched it. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you offering me one?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral. “What’s your angle?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “No angle. If you don’t want them, you don’t have to take them. Simple.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want them,” Damian said quickly, his tone defensive.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh? So you do want them?”

He scoffed, snatching the plate from your hands like you might change your mind. “I’ll try them. But don’t expect me to praise you if they’re subpar.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Damian took a deliberate bite, his expression carefully guarded as he chewed. You watched him closely, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you asked.

He paused, his lips twitching ever so slightly before he schooled his face back into indifference. “Adequate.”

You snorted. “Adequate, huh? That’s basically high praise coming from you.”

“Tt. Don’t let it go to your head,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop eating.

You grinned, shaking your head as you turned to leave. “Enjoy them, Damian. Or don’t. Whatever.”

As you walked away, you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch: “I will.”

You didn’t look back, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

No, things between you and Damian weren’t perfect. But this? This was progress.

Stephanie twirled her mug between her hands, the steam curling into the air as she sat perched on the couch at the Clocktower. Across the room, Cassandra sat cross-legged on the floor, cleaning and reassembling her grappling gun with quiet precision. The rhythmic sound of Cassandra’s movements usually put the blonde at ease, but today, she couldn’t shake the restless thoughts spinning in her head.

“I don’t get it,” Stephanie muttered finally, breaking the silence.

Cass didn’t look up, but the subtle tilt of her head told Steph she was listening.

“It’s been almost three weeks,” Steph continued, gesturing with her mug like it emphasized her point. “Three weeks since (Name) quit, and I haven’t seen her here. Not once. No check-ins, no training, no anything. She just… stopped. Like she wasn’t serious about any of it to begin with.”

Cass paused her movements, her sharp gaze flicking to Steph. “Serious..?”

“Y’know, serious about being Batgirl..!” Steph exclaimed, setting her mug on a table with a clink. “I mean, she was so into it. Always had to be the best, always trying to prove she could do everything better than me. And now? Nothing. It’s like she dropped off the face of the earth.”

Cass raised an eyebrow, her hands moving again to tighten the grappling gun’s grip. “You miss her.”

“What? No! I—” Steph’s protest faltered under Cass’s calm stare. “Okay, maybe a little. But that’s not the point.” She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “It’s just so unlike her. You know what I mean?”

Cass considered this for a moment, then nodded. “She fights. Always fights. And she doesn’t stop.”

“Exactly!” Steph said, throwing her hands up. “She’s stubborn as hell. She’d never just quit without a reason. It’s like she’s a completely different person all of a sudden.”

Cass’s gaze stayed steady on Steph, her expression unreadable. “Maybe something happened.”

Steph frowned. “Like what?”

Cass furrowed her eyebrows, setting her grappling gun aside and leaning back on her hands. “I don’t know. But something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Steph admitted, slumping against the back of the couch. “I mean, yeah, we weren’t exactly besties or whatever, but we spent enough time together. I thought I had her figured out. Now I feel like I don’t know her at all.”

Cass tilted her head. “Did you? Know her?”

Steph opened her mouth to respond but stopped. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. Most of her interactions with you had been competitive or snarky, sure, but there had been moments—rare ones—where it felt like there was something deeper under the surface. She just hadn’t taken the time to dig for it.

“I don’t know,” Steph admitted, her voice quieter. “Maybe I didn’t. But I thought I did.”

Cass nodded slowly, as if that answer didn’t surprise her.

“What about you..?” Steph asked, turning the question back on Cass. “What do you think of all this?”

Cass didn’t answer immediately. She sat in thoughtful silence, her dark eyes focused on nothing in particular. “Not sure,” she said finally. “It feels… off. Like she’s hiding.”

Steph frowned. “Hiding what?”

“I… don’t know.”

The room fell silent as Steph mulled over Cass’s words. For all your bravado and stubborness, there had always been something raw about you, like you were desperate to hold onto something—anything. Maybe Cass was right. Maybe something had happened—something you didn’t want anyone to know.

Stephanie sighed, reaching for her mug again. “You’re probably right. She’s hiding something. But what exactly is she hiding, that’s the question.” She took a sip of her coffee, grimacing slightly at the bitterness. “I hate not knowing. It’s driving me nuts.”

Cass offered a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You care.”

“Of course I care!” Steph shot back, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, yeah, she’s annoying and stubborn and always has to prove she’s better than me, but…” She trailed off, her voice softening. “She’s still one of us. Right?”

Cass nodded, the smile lingering.

Stephanie leaned back again, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll try talking to her. Or something. I don’t know. This is just… weird. It doesn’t feel right. To just leave things as it is.”

Cass watched Stephanie closely, her quiet curiosity cutting through the lingering silence. “What was it like?” she asked, her voice calm but insistent. “Between you and her?”

Steph froze, mid-sip of her coffee. Her first instinct was to deflect, to brush the question off with a joke or a sarcastic remark. But Cass’s gaze—steady, patient, unyielding—made it clear she wasn’t going to let it slide.

“What do you mean, ‘what was it like?’” Steph muttered, setting her mug down with more force than necessary.

“You and (Name),” Cass said, gesturing vaguely with her hand. “Before all this. When she was still Batgirl. When you were still Spoiler. When you became Batgirl as well.”

Steph shifted uncomfortably, her lips pressing into a thin line.

What was it like?

“It was… complicated,” she said finally.

It was anything but normal.

Cass tilted her head, waiting for her to elaborate. Steph sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

Stephanie could still remember her first few nights as Spoiler, still rough around the edges and carrying the weight of Cluemaster, her father’s, shadow on her shoulders. She’d been furious when she found out after he claimed to be “rehabilitated”, he actually returned to crime instead, leaving no clues behind this time. She knew then and there that something had to be done—that she had to do something—to stop her father. So, she made her Spoiler costume, and set out to stop her father. That night, she’d intercepted one of his coded messages and had made the decision to spoil yet another of his schemes—alone.

It hadn’t gone according to plan.

The warehouse was dark and cold, lit only by a few dim bulbs hanging from the rafters. Stephanie had crept in quietly, her heart pounding as she hid in the shadows. The stolen tech Cluemaster planned to sell sat piled high in crates, guarded by a dozen armed men. She’d hoped to sneak in, plant some evidence for the police, and leave unnoticed. Instead, she’d tripped a motion sensor and found herself surrounded.

She fought back with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. Her moves were sloppy, unrefined, and born of sheer desperation. A blow to her ribs sent her sprawling across the floor, and she barely managed to roll out of the way of another thug’s steel-toed boot. Just when it seemed like she was out of options, a flash of movement from the rafters caught her attention.

You arrived like a force of nature, swooping down in your Batgirl suit, taking out two of the goons before they even knew what hit them. For someone who appeared composed and confident, Stephanie noticed quickly that your movements weren’t as fluid as you likely hoped they were. You were good—better than her, no question—but your hits didn’t land with perfect precision, and you occasionally stumbled, as though still learning the weight of your cape.

Still, the two of you managed to fight off the group, leaving the thugs groaning on the ground. Stephanie was leaning against one of the crates, clutching her side and breathing heavily, when you turned to her.

“Who are you?” you demanded, stepping forward.

“I’m…” She hesitated, brushing off her torn sleeve and trying to stand straighter. “I’m Spoiler.”

“Never heard of you.” You crossed your arms, looking her up and down. “What are you even doing here? Who are you working with?”

Stephanie groaned, more from frustration than pain. “I’m not working with anyone.”

“Then why are you here?” You gestured to the tied-up henchmen. “This isn’t exactly a neighborhood bake sale.”

“I’m here to stop my father,” she snapped, throwing her arms up.

That made you pause. “Your… father?”

She sighed, already regretting the slip. “Yeah. My father.”

You frowned, the pieces slowly clicking together. “Wait… you’re Cluemaster’s daughter?”

“Congrats, you solved the mystery, want a prize for that?” she muttered sarcastically, shrugging your hand off her arm when you instinctively tried to grab her.

You stepped back, your stance cautious now, your expression wary. “Why are you trying to stop him?”

“Because someone has to.” Stephanie said, her voice rising. “Because I don’t want people to get hurt because of him. Is that good enough for you, Batgirl?”

You stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “You shouldn’t even be out here. This isn’t a game.”

“I’m not treating it like one!” she shot back. “I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” you replied bluntly, but your voice softened after a moment. “But… I guess I can see why you’re doing it.”

Stephanie braced herself for you to knock her out or drag her to Batman, but instead, you just grabbed the nearest thug and tied him up.

“You’re not going to say anything?” she asked, suspicious.

You didn’t look at her. “Not tonight. But don’t make me regret it.”

And with that, you had disappeared into the night, leaving Stephanie confused and to her own thoughts, unsure of what to think about you, Batgirl.

Why did you let her go?

It didn’t make sense.

Stephanie leaned back against the nearest crate, ignoring the dull ache in her ribs as her mind spiraled. Was it pity? Did you feel sorry for her something?

The thought stung more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t need anyone’s pity—least of all from someone who’d clearly been at this vigilante thing longer than her. Or maybe—you just thought she wasn’t worth the effort of turning in.

Over the next few weeks—for some reason—Stephanie kept on running into you. Sometimes it was because you were actively following her, and sometimes it was sheer coincidence. Each time, the dynamic between the two of you shifted slightly.

“I don’t need your help,” Steph had snapped when you intervened in another one of her plans to foil her father’s, her voice tinged with irritation. She’d bitten off more than she could chew, but the last thing she wanted was you swooping in to save her.

“You’re welcome,” you’d replied coolly, barely glancing at her as you tied up the last of the thugs.

Steph had bristled. “I had it handled.”

“Sure you did,” you’d said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s why you were about two seconds away from getting your head bashed in.”

This cycle had continued for weeks—an endless back-and-forth of barbed comments and unspoken challenges.

But then there were quieter moments. Like this one night—you both got stuck during a freezing rainstorm, huddled together under a flimsy overhang.

“You’re shivering,” you’d noted, tossing your extra cloak over her shoulders without a second thought.

Steph had blinked at you, surprised. “…Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” you’d said, leaning back against the wall and pulling your own cloak tighter around you.

That same night she’d cornered you on the rooftop after the two of you left evidence for the police and Batman to find to deal with Cluemaster.

“Why?” she’d asked, crossing her arms. “Why’d you go along with my plan instead of running to Batman?”

You’d glanced at her, your expression unreadable. “Because you’re not like him,” you’d said simply.

“Cluemaster, I mean. And because… I do think you mean it. The whole ‘trying to stop my father’ thing.”

For a moment, Stephanie had been speechless. She hadn’t expected that kind of answer—or the quiet sincerity behind it.

She hadn’t expected that. Not from a Bat. They weren’t exactly known for handing out compliments—or trust. Especially not to someone like her.

But then again, from the moment she met you, you hadn’t exactly acted the way she thought someone trained under Batman would. Not that she would know what that was like.

Stephanie’s arms dropped to her sides as she studied you, standing there under the faint glow of the Gotham skyline. You didn’t look like you were second-guessing your words or regretting them. You were calm like you’d just stated a fact. Like you really meant it.

Stephanie felt the knot in her chest tighten. What if you were wrong? What if she was like him? She hadn’t exactly proven otherwise had she?

Sure, she was trying to stop him now, but that didn’t erase the fact that she was his daughter. His blood ran through her veins, no matter how much she hated it.

But then, there was another thought, quieter and harder to ignore. What if you weren’t wrong? What if—just maybe—you’d seen something in her she couldn’t see herself?

Stephanie didn’t know what terified her more then—the idea that someone believed in her, or the possibility that you might be right,

She glanced at you again, half-expecting you to take it back or brush it off like it didn’t matter. But you didn’t. You just stood there, calm and steady, like your words had been obvious all along.

And for a moment, she let herself believe it. Just a little.

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice barely audible, as she looked away. She didn’t know if you heard her or if you’d even care, but it felt like something she had to say.

When she turned back around though, you were gone.

Stephanie blinked, her breath catching for a moment as she scanned the empty rooftop. “Really?” She muttered, dragging a hand down her face.

“Was that a ‘dramatic exit’ thing, or do all you bats have to disappear every time someone tries to say thanks?”

“Afterwards…” Steph began, her voice soft. “I didn’t really get to see much of her.”

Cass looked up briefly, her head tilting in silent acknowledgment.

“I mean, even after I met you,” Steph continued, “I didn’t see much of her. I thought we were chill. You know?”

Cass’s hands paused over the grappling gun. “Thought?”

Steph hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. Her gaze fell to her mug, and she let out a slow breath. “I guess… everything kind of changed when Bruce ‘died.’” She set the mug on the table and leaned back against the couch. “When you quit being Batgirl, and gave me your costume to take over you.”

Cass blinked, her expression neutral but her body language subtly shifting. “Oh.”

Steph turned to face her fully, brows knitting together. “I thought things would still be fine, but no. Not when Dick and Babs allowed me to take up the Batgirl mantle.”

Stephanie had found you on the rooftop of an old apartment building, your silhouette outlined against the Gotham skyline. The wind cut through the air, sharp and cold, but you didn’t flinch, your posture rigid as though the weather didn’t touch you.

“I figured you’d be here,” she’d said softly, walking closer, the crunch of gravel under her boots breaking the silence.

“What do you want, Stephanie?” Your voice was hoarse and low, but your tone was sharp enough to stop her mid-step.

Steph froze, the weight of the Batgirl costume suddenly feeling heavier than ever. There was something in the way you said her name—so cold, so distant—it made her chest tighten.

“I just… wanted to talk.”

You let out a dry, humourless scoff, still not turning to face her.

Stephanie clenched her fists at her sides, willing herself to continue. “Look, I know you’re upset. I don’t know why Dick decided to bench you from being Batgirl, but—“

“Oh, you don’t know?” You spun around, finally facing her, your eyes burning with frustration. “It’s because of you, Stephanie. He benched me so you could play hero. He chose you. You. Over me. He’s saying I wasn’t good enough to be Batgirl. His Batgirl.”

Stephanie’s heart sank at the venom in your voice. She took a step closer, shaking her head. “That’s not true… Cass wanted me to take over her as Batgirl because—“

“Because what?” you snapped, voice rising. “Because she thought I couldn’t handle it? Because she thought you deserved it more than I do?”

“No!” Steph said quickly, her voice breaking slightly. “Because she thought I needed it. And maybe she’s right. But that doesn’t mean—“

“It doesn’t mean what?” you interrupted bitterly. “That it wasn’t a slap in the face? That it didn’t rip away the only thing I had left?”

Your voice broke, just slightly, and Stephanie’s heart clenched as she watched your walls crack under thr weight of your emotions.

“My father is dead, Stephanie. The one thing that he gave me that meant something, the one thing that I thought could truly be mine, was ripped away. Do you know how much it hurts to watch you parade in that suit like it didn’t mean anything to me? Like I don’t mean anything?”

“It’s not like that,” Steph shot back, her voice more desperate. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I never wanted to hurt you—“

“Just stop,” you interrupted, turning away from her again. Your shoulders were stiff, your voice cutting like ice.

“I don’t care what you wanted. I don’t care what excuses you or Barbara or Dick have. They decided you were better than me. That I wasn’t good enough. That I was expendable.”

“That’s not true,” Steph said desperately.

“Oh sure,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You somehow convinced Dick and Barbara to let you play Batgirl while I’m sidelined and tossed aside. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t know what this would do to me.”

Stephanie felt frustration bubbling under the surface. “Do you think I have it easy? Barbara doubted me from the start! She didn’t think I’d survive as Batgirl. She only gave me a chance because I refused to back down—“

“So then why did they replace me?” you snapped, your eyes glistening with tears you refused to let fall. “Why did they bench me while you got to take my place? Even Cassandra seems to think you’re better than me.”

Steph froze. “That’s—“

“Am I really that replaceable?” you interrupted, your voice trembling.

Stephanie opened her mouth, but no words came out.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Save it, Stephanie. I don’t care what their reasons are. You want the mantle? Fine. It’s yours. But don’t come here pretending you didn’t know what this would do to me.”

Stephanie took a shaky step forward. “I’m not trying to—“

“I’ll prove them wrong,” you interrupted, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ll prove I’m better than you. Better than any of them thought I could be. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Stephanie stared at you, stunned, as your words hung heavy in the air.

“So enjoy being Batgirl, Stephanie,” you said coldly. “And stay the hell away from me.”

Steph stood there for a long moment, frozen, as your words hung in the air. She wanted to say more, to fix this somehow, but the look in your eyes told her there was nothing she could do.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night as you turned back to the skyline, the cold wind biting at your skin.

Stephanie’s hands tightened around her mug as she replayed the memory in her mind.

“From then on,” Steph said, her voice soft, “she did everything she could to one-up me. Patrol routes, takedowns, intel—anything. It was like she was trying to prove herself, not just to Dick and Barbara, but to me, too.”

Cass tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

Steph hesitated before asking, “Why… didn’t you seem bothered by her quitting? Didn’t it… I don’t know, feel weird to you?”

Cass stayed silent, her hands stilling over the grappling gun.

“Cass?” Stephanie pressed.

Cassandra sighed softly. “If it’s what she wanted, then everyone should respect it.”

“But isn’t it weird? That she suddenly quit?”

Cass’s gaze flickered. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice calm. “But it’s better if she doesn’t continue this path.”

Steph’s brow furrowed. “Better? What do you mean?”

Cass hesitated, her voice even. “She wasn’t built for this life.”

Steph blinked, confused. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

Cass looked at her, her voice quieter but resolute. “I’ve always seen it. A… blockage. In her body language. When she fights, when she moves, it’s always there. It never goes away.”

Steph tilted her head, confused. “A blockage? What does that even mean..?”

“It’s like… a wall she can’t break through.” Cass explained, her tone calm but firm. “No matter what she does, it stops her from reaching her full potential. And that wall… it’s dangerous. For her.”

“But she’s strong—“ Steph opened her mouth to protest, but Cass cut her off, her tone firmer.

“She’s strong,” Cass agreed, “but not for this. That blockage is something she can’t overcome. And if she keeps pushing herself, it’ll hurt her. Worse than being benched. Worse than losing the mantle. She should live a normal life. Away from this.”

Steph stared at Cass, her confusion shifting into an uneasy understanding. The weight of Cass’s words settling heavily in her chest. Cass’s ability to read body language was unparalleled—if anyone could see something like that, it was her.

“But…” Steph started, trailing off, her voice uncertain.

Cass shook her head, her voice soft but final. “This life—it would break her. It’s better this way. For her.”

Stephanie leaned back into the couch, the weight of Cass’s words pressing down on her. For the first time, she felt a flicker of doubt—not about you, but about what this life demanded of you.

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Her thoughts swirled as she tried to piece it all together. Cassandra had always been the most perceptive person Stephanie had ever known, able to read people in ways that felt almost supernatural. If she said there was a “blockage,” some invisible wall holding you back, Steph believed her. She had no reason not to.

But why hadn’t Cass told you about it? Why hadn’t she tried to help you work through it instead of letting you walk away? Cass wasn’t the type to give up on people, so why had she just… let you go?

Stephanie’s grip tightened on the mug. She thought back to the nights she’d watched you push yourself too far, the way you’d thrown yourself into patrols and fights with a reckless determination that bordered on desperation. It made sense now, in a way. You weren’t just trying to be good enough—you were trying to be better than everyone’s doubts.

“I don’t…” Stephanie hesitated, her words faltering. “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

Cassandra didn’t respond, her silence stretching between them like the distant hum of the city outside.

The weight of the conversation pressed on Steph’s chest, but then a stray thought flickered in her mind, pulling her out of her tangled emotions. She striaghted slightly, her brow furrowing.

“Wait. Where’s Barbara anyway?” she asked, glancing around the Clocktower.

Cass tilted her head, thinking. “Not sure,” she said simply. “I think… she said she had plans. With someone.”

Steph raised an eyebrow. “Plans? With who?”

Cass shrugged, her expression giving nothing away.

Steph groaned, flopping back against the couch. “Great. So now Barbara is being cryptic too. What is it with you Bat people and your secrets?”

The lunch spot was cozy but buzzing with just enough noise to drown out any awkward silences—though not nearly enough to mask the tension sitting between you and Barbara. She sat across from you, her gaze flickering between the menu in her hands and you.

You should have refused the lunch. Should have claimed you were busy. But the text Barbara sent you left you with no real excuse:

“Lunch? 1 PM? Don’t pretend you’re busy, I know your schedule. ☕”

And so here you were, caught in what felt like an ambush.

As the server came over, you placed your order for a black coffee and a bagel.

Barbara blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Black coffee?” she repeated after the server left, her brows slightly raised.

You glanced up from your phone. “Yeah?”

“I just… didn’t think you’d be the type.”

It took you a moment to register her confusion, but then it hit you. Back when you were sixteen, you hated coffee—especially black coffee. You’d always opted for sugary drinks or anything sweet enough to mask the bitterness. Sixteen year old you would’ve gagged at the bitterness of black coffee. But time had changed you, as had many sleepless nights spent staring at mission briefs or reports, that you’ve gotten used to the taste of coffee.

“Just need all the energy I can get,” you replied, plastering on a small smile.

Barbara hummed, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to push further.

The two of you fell into a strange silence, interrupted only by the soft clinking of cutlery and quiet chatter around you. Barbara shifted in her wheelchair, wondering why this felt so… awkward.

Were you always this… standoffish?

After what felt like forever, Barbara finally spoke up. “I heard about what happened to your friend.”

Your fingers stilled against the edge of your cup. Oh.

Barbara glanced at you, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. That he got caught up in everything. I should have been more thorough.”

Your lips twitched downward, your voice coming out sharper than intended. “Yeah. You should have.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Barbara’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the honesty of your tone catching her off guard.

Silence again. This time heavier.

The tension thickened between you both, the silence growing louder by the second. Barbara swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your words settle uncomfortably in her chest.

She opened her mouth again, determined to steer the conversation somewhere less hostile. “How’s school?”

You shrugged, your tone clipped. “It’s alright.”

“Are classes okay? Teachers good?”

“They’re fine.”

Barbara frowned, but she pressed on. “And your friends? Have you made any new ones?”

“No, not really.”

This wasn’t working. Every answer you gave was short, distant, like you were putting up walls. It felt unnatural, almost deliberate. Barbara wasn’t sure if she should press harder or back off entirely.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” she finally asked, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. Was this about your friend getting hurt? Was this about her not being quick enough to prevent the incident? Or was it something else all together?

You paused, but your face remained impassive. “No,” you replied flatly, taking a bite of your bagel.

Barbara’s stomach twisted.

That wasn’t a no.

Not really.

Before she could respond, a voice spoke from behind her.

“Hey, I thought I recognized you two!”

The familiar voice broke through the tension like a wrecking ball, and Barbara couldn’t have been more relieved.

Dick.

He slid into the seat next to Barbara, flashing his trademark grin, though his eyes darted to you with a hint of hesitation. “What’s this? A secret meeting without me?”

Oh, so this was a setup.

Dick must have told Barbara about you avoiding him, and they must have planned this.

You straightened, folding your arms and leaning back into your chair like a wall had gone up.

Dick, oblivious, leaned forward with his usual enthusiasm. “What are you guys talking about? School? Life? Come on, catch me up.”

“Not much to catch up on,” you muttered.

Dick frowned slightly but pressed on, his tone light and cheerful. “You know, I’ve been meaning to hang out with you more, (Name). It feels like we haven’t really spent time together lately.”

You didn’t respond.

“Maybe we could grab dinner sometime?” Dick offered, smiling earnestly. “Or I could swing by the manor and we could—”

“I actually have plans, so I can’t stay,” you said curtly, reaching for your bag.

Dick blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “What? No, wait,” he said quickly, leaning forward. “You just got here.”

“I already told you,” you said, standing up. “I have plans. I can’t hang out.”

“But—”

“Thanks for lunch, Barbara,” you interrupted, sparing Barbara a quick glance before heading for the exit.

“Wait—”

You were already gone.

Dick watched you go, his shoulders sagging as the door swung shut behind you. He slumped back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. For a moment, he was quiet, his usual energy dimmed.

Barbara sighed, setting her cup down. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t have the words. After all, you’d been acting the same way toward her. Aloof, distant, standoffish.

“Don’t take it personally.”

That was all she could come up with.

Dick frowned. “She’s never acted like this before. It’s like she doesn’t even want to be around me.”

Barbara didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. She just wished she had an answer.

“She hates me,” he said quietly, his voice almost drowned by the chatter from the cafe.

Barbara glanced up at the man. “She doesn’t hate you, Dick.”

“Feels like it,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “It’s like every time I try to talk to her, I just make things worse.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “….You don’t think she’s acting like this because of what happened before, do you?”

Barbara leaned back in her chair, her expression softening. “Which part of ‘before’ are we talking about?”

Dick’s gaze dropped to the floor as his mind pulled him back, unbidden, to those first turbulent days after Bruce’s death.

The cave had never felt more suffocating, its dim light and cold walls amplifying the tension crackling in the air. You stood across from Dick, your posture tense, fists clenched at your sides.

“You’re benching me?” Your voice was sharp, anger barely masking the hurt underneath.

“It’s not permanent,” Dick said, his tone measured but firm. “You’re not in the right headspace right now—”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, cutting him off. “I’m doing my job, same as I always have.”

“No, you’re not,” Dick countered, his voice tightening. “You’re reckless. You’re putting yourself in danger for no reason.” He took a step closer, his jaw tight. “I’ve seen you out there, and it’s like you’re not even trying to come back in one piece. You’re acting like you have nothing to lose.”

Your heart lurched at his words, but you refused to show it. “Don’t stand there and psychoanalyze me. I’m doing my job. If you think I’m not good enough, just say it.”

Dick let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You’ve been through hell—losing Bruce—your father—and instead of giving yourself time to deal with it, you’re throwing yourself into the field like you have a death wish.”

Your fists clenched tighter. “So what? I’m just supposed to sit around, doing nothing? Let Gotham fall apart while you and Damian play Batman and Robin? I’m trying to help, Dick!”

“I know you are,” Dick said, his voice softening, but there was a steel edge to it. “But this isn’t helping. Not like this. You’re going to get yourself killed, and I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

“You can’t what?” you demanded, stepping closer, your voice trembling with anger. “You can’t trust me? Can’t rely on me? What, am I just some burden to you now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Dick snapped, his frustration finally boiling over. His voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls. “I’m saying I care about you, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you destroy yourself like this.”

The raw emotion in his voice caught you off guard, but it only fueled the fire burning in your chest. “You don’t care about me,” you spat. “If you did, you’d let me do what I’m good at instead of sidelining me. You’re becoming just like father—deciding what’s best for everyone else without asking.”

Dick flinched at the comparison, but he recovered quickly, his expression hardening. “This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you alive. You’re grieving, and it’s clouding your judgment. Until you can think clearly, I can’t let you keep putting yourself in danger.”

“You can’t let me?” you repeated, your voice cracking as your anger reached its peak. “You’re not my father, Dick. You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do!”

“No, I’m not your father,” Dick shot back, his voice low but sharp. “But I am your brother. And I am Batman now. So it’s my call.”

The words landed like a blow, cutting through the air between you. Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your emotions warring inside you—anger, betrayal, grief, all swirling together until you couldn’t separate one from the other.

“Fine,” you said finally, your voice cold and flat. “Do what you want. Bench me. Replace me. I don’t care.”

Dick’s expression flickered, a crack in his resolve, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your heel and stormed out of the cave, your footsteps echoing behind you.

The memory twisted in Dick’s chest like a knife. A few days later, he’d seen someone in Cassandra’s Batgirl costume, her movements unfamiliar, the seams of the mantle not quite fitting yet.

“Tsk, tsk. Sloppy.” Damian had commented.

“How is this the woman who led the League of Assassins? The “warrior” who ran the outsiders at father’s command?” he had asked sharply.

“You’re right..” Dick muttered, narrowing his eyes as he realized who it was.

“She’s not as good as the other batgirls..”

When he confronted Barbara about mentoring Stephanie, the conversation had been anything but calm. She believed in Stephanie, believed Gotham needed a Batgirl. He’d been reluctant, furious that Barbara had allowed Stephanie to go around Gotham wearing that Bat symbol on her chest when she’s not prepared for what the city has become in the absence of Batman. But he’d eventually agreed, seeing how much Stephanie needed this, seeing how much Barbara needed this too.

But when you found out? That had been the breaking point.

The sound of hurried, angry footsteps echoed through the Batcave, snapping Dick’s attention from the monitor. He turned just as you came storming in, radiating anger.

“Are you serious?” you demanded, your voice sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of the cave’s machinery.

Dick sighed, already bracing himself for the confrontation. He should have expected this, but the fury radiating off you still caught him off guard.

“Stephanie’s Batgirl now?” you said, your words laced with disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“She’s doing good work,” Dick said, keeping his tone neutral, though he could already feel the tension building.

“She’s replacing me!” you snapped. “Neither you nor Barbara even thought to talk to me about this. Not a single word. You didn’t think for one second about how I’d feel.”

“She’s not replacing you, (Name),” Dick said, his voice taut as he tried to keep his composure.

“Yes, she is,” you shot back, your tone rising. “You’re saying I’m not good enough. That I’m not fit to be Batgirl anymore.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Dick countered, his patience beginning to fray.

“Then what is it about?” you challenged, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you decided I wasn’t worth it. You didn’t even give me a chance to prove I’m not—”

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Dick interrupted sharply.

“Clearly, I do!” you spat. “Because you didn’t just bench me. You handed over my mantle to someone else, like I didn’t matter. Like I’m just… disposable!”

“That’s not what happened,” Dick said, his voice rising. “This isn’t about replacing you—it’s about keeping you alive!”

You froze for a split second, stunned, before your expression hardened. “Keeping me alive? What the hell are you talking about?”

Dick exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Like I already told you, you’ve been reckless. Ever since Bruce died, you’ve been—”

“Don’t bring father into this,” you interrupted, your voice dangerously low.

“I have to,” Dick snapped back. “Because ever since he died, you’ve been running yourself into the ground, throwing yourself into danger without a second thought. You’re not thinking clearly, and it’s going to get you killed. I had to take you off the streets before it was too late.”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Dick retorted, his voice sharp. “You’re angry, you’re grieving, and you’re not in the right headspace to be doing this. You think I wanted to bench you? I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” you bit out. “And you chose her.”

Dick’s jaw tightened. “Because Gotham needs a Batgirl who can think straight right now. Someone who isn’t running on grief and anger. That’s not you right now.”

“Oh, so Stephanie’s better than me now?” you said bitterly. “I see how it is. First, you replace Tim with Damian—without even talking to him about it—and now you’re doing the same thing to me.”

“This isn’t the same,” Dick said, his voice hardening.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, stepping closer. “You didn’t even ask me. You just made the decision for me. Like I don’t get a say. Like I don’t matter.”

“Tim can handle himself,” Dick shot back, his voice sharp. “Damian can’t. He needed someone to guide him, someone to keep him from spiraling out of control.”

“And I don’t?” you fired back. “I lost my father, Dick. Everything changed the moment he’s gone. The ‘normalcy’ I had was no longer there. But instead of helping me, instead of guiding me, you just… tossed me aside. Like I wasn’t worth the effort.”

“That’s not what I did,” Dick said, his voice quieter but no less firm.

“Then what did you do?” you demanded, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

“I’m trying to protect you!” Dick shouted, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t see it, but you’re not okay. You think you can just power through this, but you can’t. Not like this. If I let you keep going, you’d—” He stopped himself, his voice catching.

“I’d what?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

Dick’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at you with a rawness in his expression you weren’t expecting. “You’d get yourself killed,” he said softly. “And I couldn’t live with that. Especially when I’m in charge.”

“Don’t make this about me being reckless or grieving or whatver you think is wrong with me,” you said through gritted teeth.

“It is about that!” Dick snapped, his voice rising even more than before. “You’re spiraling and you know it. You’re not in the right headspace to be out there right now, let alone as Batgirl.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been fine. I’m doing my job—“

“You’re throwing yourself into danger without thinking,” Dick interrupted, his voice sharp. “You’re not acting like someone who’s fine. You’re acting like you don’t care if you live or die, and I’m not going to let you do that under the Batgirl mantle.”

You stared at him, your chest heaving, your emotions a chaotic storm. But instead of softening, instead of understanding, the words only made the ache in your chest worse. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said coldly.

“Someone has to.”

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. “No. You don’t get to make that call, not for me. You didn’t even try to understand. You just made your decision and moved on.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed toward the exit, leaving Dick standing in the empty cave, his hands clenched at his sides.

Dick stood there, staring at the spot where you’d disappeared. His chest felt tight, a mix of guilt and frustration twisting inside him. He didn’t mean to hurt you. That was the last thing he wanted. But letting you keep going out there, in the state you were in, wasn’t something he could allow.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured to himself, but the words rang hollow in the silence of the cave.

Dick stared down at the hot cider Barbara ordered for him, the steam curling lazily above the cup. His voice was low, almost pained, as he broke the silence. “It had been rocky after that,” he admitted, the memory of your argument still sharp in his mind. “Even after I told her not to go out as Batgirl, she disobeyed me. Again and again.”

Barbara didn’t respond, her gaze steady on him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’d bench her, and she’d show up on patrols anyway,” Dick said, his tone bitter with frustration, but there was no hiding the regret beneath it. “At first, I thought she was just trying to prove a point—to prove me wrong—but the more I watched, the more I realized…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “She was just hurting. She threw herself into every fight like it didn’t matter if she came out of it.”

Barbara shifted in her wheelchair, her fingers tightening around her own mug.

Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to admit then, but I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought taking her off the streets would help, but it just pushed her further away. The fights got worse. She wouldn’t talk to me—or if she did, it would get messy. She didn’t trust me anymore.”

He paused, exhaling heavily. “And I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for that.”

Barbara’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she stayed quiet, sensing there was more.

“When Bruce came back, I thought things would go back to normal,” Dick said, forcing a hollow chuckle. “I thought we could reset, you know? Bruce took over as Batman again, I went back to being Nightwing, and she officially went back to being Batgirl. It was like the pieces were all back in place. Like things were the way they were supposed to be.”

Barbara tilted her head slightly, catching the way his voice softened.

“But they weren’t,” he admitted, his voice breaking just slightly. “Not really.” He hesitated, gripping the edge of the table. “(Name) quit three weeks ago. Officially. And… she’s been avoiding me ever since. I see it in the way she leaves before I show up, the way she makes sure she’s never in the same room as me. It’s like—like whatever this is, it’s irreparable. Like I played into her quitting.”

Barbara reached out slightly, her hand brushing against his briefly, grounding him.

“I don’t think I was wrong in my decision,” Dick said, though there was an ache in his voice that made it hard to believe him. “I just—I handled it badly. I hurt her, Babs. And now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to make it right.”

He fell silent, staring into his drink like it held some sort of answer.

Barbara shifted her gaze to him, guilt clawing at her chest as her own memories surfaced.

“I…. should have handled things better too,” she admitted softly, almost to herself.

Dick glanced at her, surprised by the admission.

“I should have been there for her,” Barbara continued, her tone quiet but heavy with regret. “(Name) wasn’t in the right state of mind, and I knew that. I knew it. But I…” She hesitated, gripping her mug tightly. “I chose to focus on Stephanie instead. To guide her. To help her become Batgirl.”

“You were trying to do what was best for everyone,” Dick said gently, but Barbara shook her head.

“No, I wasn’t,” she said firmly. “I was avoiding the harder choice. Helping her—helping someone who was grieving, who was hurt, who needed someone to pull them out of that spiral—that would’ve taken more from me. More patience. More time. And I didn’t give it to her.”

Dick’s expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought Stephanie needed me more,” Barbara said, her voice cracking slightly. “She was trying so hard to prove herself, to find her place—find what she needs. And she deserved my guidance too—but I shouldn’t have left (Name) behind. Not like that.”

The two of them fell silent for a long moment, both lost in their thoughts.

“She deserved better from me,” Barbara murmured, her throat tightening. “And now I have to live with the fact that I didn’t give it to her. I have to live with the fact that I let this gap between us grow so big. And I don’t even know when it happened.”

Dick looked at her, his expression softening. “It’s not too late to fix that.”

Barbara gave him a small, sad smile. “How do you fix something when you don’t even know where to start?”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of her words settled over him. He knew exactly how she felt. But just like her, he didn’t have an answer.

“She’s so… closed off now,” Dick said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know how to approach her anymore. Every time I try, it’s like there’s this wall between us, and I just—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “How did I mess up so bad?”

Barbara studied him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Dick admitted. “I just—I wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to stop putting herself in danger, to stop tearing herself apart over everything she lost back then. But now… I don’t know if I helped her at all. I think I just pushed her further away.”

Barbara placed a hand over his, squeezing it gently. “You did what you thought was right,” she said softly.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Dick muttered, his voice thick with regret.

They sat there in silence for a while, both of them weighed down by the choices they’d made and the consequences they were still grappling with. Neither of them knew how to bridge the gap you’d left behind—but they both knew they couldn’t just leave it like this. Not anymore.

finally done with this chapter lol. it’s been long overdue, so sorry about that 😭😓 i had to rewrite a lot of these scenes so many times because i wasn’t satisfied with it…but hopefully you lot are okay with this chapter haha.. 😬🙃 i slightly adjusted stephanie’s relationship with reader in this compared to the background info i posted because i thought this would fit better with the dynamic i intended for her to have. but for now, have this while i’m going to take a semi-hiatus/break to celebrate my bday which is coming up in 4 days and some other stuff 🫶 next chapter will most likely come out on 28 dec so yeah, until then, i’ll still try to reply to whatever is in my inbox 🫨

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[ceesimz]

Evergreen

Glimpses of your relationship. (Autistic Reader)

Reverie series can be found here. This is structured differently than the rest, it's multiple blurbs in one that I've written over time, which has definitely made it unnecessarily long but it's super light-hearted and fluffy so hopefully it's worth it

Being in a committed, serious relationship was new to you. You had dated, and… that was about it. That’s as far as things had gone in the past. 

Yet, here you were, making your way through the airport after spending Christmas back home in ice cold, snowy Norway, a small smile on your face at the thought of the person waiting to pick you up and take you home.

It was a strange adjustment, that was for sure, but a very welcome one. Having someone at your side felt… comforting. Knowing you could go to her for anything at any time was comforting. However, sometimes it worried you that you had to commit your every day to her. Not in the sense that you couldn’t settle down with her and her only, no way. Instead, you were anxious about the fact that there were times you needed your alone time, where you needed the world to quieten down a little to give you the space you needed to regulate yourself. Would Alexia understand that? Or would it irritate her that sometimes the only thing she’d get from you was radio silence?

In the end, you didn’t need to worry for even just a second. As a matter of fact, you found that peace in Alexia’s company. Not all the time of course, that wasn’t entirely realistic and time alone was still something you needed, just… less often. You wanted to spend everyday with her, even when you were mentally exhausted or burnt-out and so stressed you feared your hair would turn grey. 

You hadn’t planned to fall in love within mere months of living in Barcelona, nor had you expected to fall for a teammate. However, sometimes the most surprising things end up being the best. You adored Alexia and all that she was, especially when she demanded that she drop you off and pick you up from the airport and left no room for arguing. 

The sight of her waiting for you as you walked out of the arrivals door was worth the ten days of torture being away from her. There was no way in hell you could have controlled the shy, excited grin on your face as you wandered over to her.

She didn’t hesitate in holding her arms out when you got closer, an equally sheepish smile greeting you before you stepped into her space. The blonde let out an audible sigh of relief when her chin landed on your shoulder, holding you tightly against her whilst your hands slipped underneath the puffer jacket she wore and landed on the small of her back atop her sweater. For a few moments, the pair of you indulged in the comfort of the other after going so long without it. Hundreds of people passed by you as you did, each of them nothing more than a fleeting stranger with a life as complex as your own, yet your interest in their stories and the lives they led paled in comparison to the all-consuming feeling of Alexia’s embrace. 

Despite how you had technically just gone home, back to Norway where you grew up with all your family around you, that reuniting hug was… something more. Something deeper. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was about it.

“How are you? How was the flight?” She murmured quietly, pressing her lips to your coat-covered shoulder before leaning back and gazing down at you.

“Tired. My mind is frazzled.” Alexia scrunched her nose at the unfamiliar phrase, and though she had never heard it before, she seemed to understand what you meant by it. You smiled at her as she did it, finding it much more adorable than you'd ever care to admit.

“Let's get you home, eh? With… with me? I stay?” She asked, wanting nothing more than to fall onto the sofa with you and lay there for the rest of her days.

“Yes, god yes. I missed you.” You told her. The blonde chuckled softly and pulled you back in, this time with her cheek resting against your forehead as you nuzzled your nose against her jaw.

“Sí, I will stay with you. Por supuesto.” Alexia said in a whisper, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “I missed you too. It was so strange without you.”

“How so?” You wondered, content to stay there in her arms with the warmth of her drowning out the cool chill of the terminal.

“I was sad. Whenever I had some free time, I went to ask if you wanted to come over or I go to you or we have food together or something. But you weren't here and then I was sad. I'm never sad.” You giggled at the last statement, because despite staying in touch whilst you were gone with both calls and texts frequently throughout the day, it was nowhere near the same as being there in person. You understood exactly what she meant.

“Don't be silly, you're the most popular person in Barcelona. You know everyone there somehow, nevermind the thousands of fans too.” 

“Maybe, but none of them are you.” 

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes at her statement, which made her grin, but it did something to you. To you and your heart, to the butterflies in your stomach.

“Calla, Ale.” You shook your head, though spoke with a sheepish gratitude to your voice and a weakness to your knees that had her laughing quietly.

“I am being serious. I wanted you to have an amazing time at home but I wanted the days to go fast so I could see you again.” 

Her hand that landed on your cheek stopped you from turning away from her out of embarrassment at her sweet words, and you barely had a moment to scold her before she leaned down and finally kissed you. Each of you were overcome with a sense of relief, of yearning, of adoration, yet there was one stand-out thought which you both had– there was no way you could go that long without it again. And for Alexia, well, she also knew there was never another person in the world that could make her feel the way you did with just one kiss. It broke off sooner than you wanted, simply because not one of you could stop smiling.

“Take me home now?” You said, gazing at her as she blinked at you a couple times before snapping back into the reality. You giggled, spotting the exact moment she came out of her thoughts, which were overflowing with you, and nodded.

In moments like this, it was hard to believe that you were hardly three weeks into the relationship. Yet, if this was what three weeks had in store for you, you couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime held.

There was a bit of that playful back and forth that you adored when she took your suitcase from you, arguing something to do with being a gentlewoman, and you let her. Who were you to resist her? Dumb, that’s for sure. So she wheeled your bag to her parked car, your hand grasping onto her upper arm, in a comfortable silence. With it, came quiet excitement that formed between you, only now processing the fact you were back in each other’s company and had the next few days to spend time together before training started up again. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter domesticity that took over your apartment when you stepped foot inside again. 

Firstly, it started with Alexia heading to the kitchen whilst you went to your bedroom to drop off your bags and unpack the main things from your backpack. Unbeknownst to you, while you were out of the country, Alexia had borrowed Ingrid's key to your flat so that she could organise a few small surprises she hoped you would appreciate. And appreciate them you did.

Just as you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed at the thought of all the chores that coming back from a vacation had to offer, the door to your room creaked open and in walked your girlfriend with a mug of your favourite hot chocolate in her hand. With a disbelieving smile on your face, you happily accepted it, placing a grateful kiss to her check as your silent way of thanking her.

And as if it couldn't get any better, with a quiet, loving murmur, the blonde persuaded you to leave your bags until tomorrow, not afraid to admit that she would much rather spend the evening in your arms than to see you add to your own stress by trying to get everything organised straight after a flight. You were glad to take her up on her advice because you walked into your lounge to a coffee table filled with surprises. A fresh bouquet of flowers, a new candle, the softest looking blanket you might have ever seen, one of Alexia's folded-up hoodies, and a small gift-wrapped box. You felt overwhelmed, but this time in the best way possible – because you felt wholly and completely loved, even if the pair of you hadn't said that specific word yet.

The only thing you could do to repay such kindness was by granting her wish of doing nothing but cuddling with you on the couch. So you did exactly that. With Alexia's hoodie on, which you realised was her favourite, you both lay down on the sofa and got comfy. Your head was on her chest, tucked perfectly under her chin, with the new blanket that exceeded your softness expectations covering you both, and the most adorable Christmas tree decoration hanging off a pine branch in the corner of the room. According to her, Alexia had chosen it whilst at the Christmas markets, seeing the beautifully crafted glass decoration and thinking of you. Though, she also went on to admit that she thought of you all of the time, hence why she had bought multiple small gifts for you whilst you were gone.

Neither of you planned to fall asleep, but it seemed that had been the case when Alexia woke up some time later, you still on top of her and sleeping. She glanced at her phone and her heart dropped when she saw the time. You hadn't spent the night together at this point of your relationship, yet here the midfielder was, still on your couch at 1am. 

Maybe it was slightly unfair of her, but she would have truthfully done anything to stay in that moment, with you completely at peace lay on top of her. So she lingered for a minute or two, one hand on the back of your head as the other slipped under her jumper and softly trailed her fingertips up and down your warm skin. She closed her eyes and rested for just a second, before letting out a slightly stifled sigh and raising her head from where she had laid back. She gazed down at you, your cheek slightly smushed against her chest and your lips parted as you let out small breaths every so often, and did her best to memorise the sight for herself.

“Cariño.” She whispered, gently nudging your shoulder to wake you up so she could leave. If it was up to her, she would just slip out quietly and not wake you, but she knew the anxieties that would most likely cause for you and that was the last thing she wanted. “Wake up, cari. Por favor.”

“Shh. Sleep.” You grumbled, burying your face further into her neck and pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“No, mi amor.” Alexia chuckled softly, which only had you groaning. “Sorry. I have to go, it's the middle of the night.”

“Just stay, Ale.” You told her. Now that, she wasn't expecting. And if you weren't toeing the line between awake and asleep, you probably wouldn't have said it either.

“S…stay?” She repeated, though got no response from you. “Wake up, wake up. Just for a minute while I go.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes then, if only to frown when you lifted your head up to look at her properly.

“Why do you want to leave?” You asked in a slightly anxious mumble, those worries that Alexia wanted to avoid appearing anyway. To quell them quickly, she cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Because we haven't spent the night together yet and I don't want to cross any boundaries. This is your space, I don't want to intrude and overstay my welcome.” She answered sincerely, gazing at you so softly that had you been standing, your knees would have surely buckled. 

Those three words were so close to slipping out then, but you feared it was too early and you didn't want to scare her away just as you'd gotten her back. She kept you and your needs in mind at all times- not an overbearing amount, instead in a way where she somehow always knew the moment it was necessary for her to voice her willingness to cater for them. You'd known each other for a number of months now, so she had come to know you well, but it still caught you off guard how thoughtful and caring she was. Other than Ingrid, you weren't sure you had ever come across someone outside of your family that treated you so... perfectly. So normally. It was second nature for the Spanish woman at this point, and that meant the world to you.

“Ale.” You breathed out quietly, shaking your head slightly. She frowned at your reaction, and you couldn't help the sleepy giggle that left your throat. “I would really, really love it if you stayed over. Only if you want to, though.”

Your hair was no doubt a mess from being asleep, you could feel how flushed your cheeks were, and the material of Alexia's t-shirt was probably imprinted on one side of your face. Despite this, Alexia still looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“If you are happy with it, I would love to stay over. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up in the morning to you.” Her words had you blushing, as they often did, and in your shy embarrassment, you ducked your head down to hide the beaming smile on your face. You lifted it back up only a second or two later when you heard Alexia yawn above you, the pair of you bursting into loud, hearty laughter afterwards.

Together, even with your fingers intertwined for the very short journey, you headed to your bedroom. Alexia perched on the edge of the bed as you searched your wardrobe not only for yourself, but your girlfriend too. You turned around with a pair of shorts for you, more than happy to keep on the jumper of hers you wore, as well as a sweater and another pair of shorts for Alexia. However, she looked at you like there was something she was holding back when you went to hand over the clothes.

“I don’t… usually sleep with shorts or trousers on.” She admitted with an amusingly bright shade of pink to her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had changed colours.

“That’s fine, Ale, you can sleep in whatever you want. Long as you’re comfy.” You told her, giggling at the small sigh of relief she let out as you put her shorts back into the drawers.

“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. Thank you for this.” She smiled up at you before standing. 

There was a miniscule moment of awkwardness where the two of you felt like teenagers at a sleepover, worrying about changing in front of each other, until Alexia turned so that her back was to you and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. You turned too, not without a coy grin on your face, and quickly got changed, as did Alexia.

“Can I turn now?”

“Are you finished?” 

You asked at the same time, laughing together once more whilst moving to face each other again. Alexia took in the sight of you in her jumper, the small detail making her heart skip with joy around her chest, and you shook your head at the fondness she admired you with as you tried not to look at the rather substantial amount of skin on show from the woman across from you. She looked adorable, in just her underwear and a sweater with slightly tousled hair. It was such a contrast to the person you saw on the pitch, and so what if you secretly, not-so-secretly loved the fact that you were the only one in the world that saw this dimension of her multifaceted persona?

“What side do you prefer?” You wondered, gesturing to the bed behind you.

“Which side?” Alexia scrunched her nose in confusion like she did back at the airport, and still you found it just as endearing. 

“Yeah, like do you prefer being closer to the door or to the window?” 

“Oh! I do not mind, cariño, you can pick.” You let out a dramatic breath at her decision, then immediately clambered under the covers, making Alexia smile. “So you like the window?”

“I do. I like being able to look out every morning, the sunrise wakes me up.” You answered her curiosity, and it was simply another fact which she stored away. She had a number of them memorised by now, but she hoped she could learn every single one. 

“Do you, um… like to cuddle? When you sleep?” The blonde murmured a little shyly, lay on her back with her head turned to you. You had a feeling, from the sheepishness in her tone, that there was a certain answer she was hoping for. When you answered, you couldn't help the small, excited smile on your face.

“I think I do.” 

At your response, she moved onto her side, her accent thick when she quietly demanded that you roll over away from her. Once you had, you hid your face in your pillow when she shuffled up close to you, her chest to your back. Were you sure you weren’t asleep? Because when her arm slipped around your waist and hugged you tight back against her, you were convinced you were dreaming.

But, of course, you always had something to say.

“Do you sleep with socks on?” You hummed curiously into the quiet room.

“Sí..? Why?”

“That’s so strange, Ale.” You commented, goosebumps rising on your skin with the huff she let out against your neck.

“Vete a dormir, idiota.” She grumbled, though you knew she was smiling, it came through so clearly in her voice.

You woke up first the next morning. You weren’t used to sharing a bed, so you didn’t sleep too great, but waking up to Alexia snuggled close to you with her head half on your pillow and an arm wrapped around your body to ensure you didn’t move from her hold, it was so worth it. Even if she called you a worm for the rest of the day, droning on and on about how wriggly you were overnight. This time, when she teased you, you could see the smile on her face as she did so, you didn’t have to assume she had a grin like the previous night. With how the first night went, you thought about your future with a smile on your face, now knowing that mornings were so much better than ever before when you woke up to Alexia’s grumpiness and her tendency to cling onto anytime you tried to leave the bed.

—

Just because you hated your own birthday, that didn’t mean you disliked other people’s birthdays. In fact, for the people closest to you, you relished the opportunity to meticulously plan for them and show them exactly how loved they were.

“Ale, I mean it. Don’t you dare show up early.” 

February 2nd was of course your girlfriend's birthday. It was a morning training session that day, which was honestly quite lucky, and after some celebrations there with the club, you two were going your separate ways. Alexia had plans with some of her close-knit circle of friends from her hometown, whilst you were finishing up organising everything for when she came over to your place afterwards.

You had your arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you looked at her in warning where you stood at the driver's side window of her car. She had a smug grin on her face, like she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying.

“What if I just want to see you, mi amor?” She argued cheekily, but you scoffed.

“Well, I'm right here, telling you to NOT show up early.” 

“But I'm early to everything! Early is on time, on time is-”

“On time is late, late is what the hell is the point of being alive, yes I know you, Alexia.” You jabbed a finger into her chest, smiling at the toothy grin she responded with. “But this is your birthday and I have everything planned down to a T, if you're early then I'm just going to kick you out and make you sit outside in the corridor until it's the right time.”

There was a tight schedule for the day, one you were not going to break. Alexia may try her damn hardest but her determination isn't going to win out this time, because yours is stronger. 

She was going to spend the afternoon with her closest friends, the people that she knew she wouldn't be where she was now without them, whilst you had an intense few hours of cooking. Yes, hours. Cooking historically wasn't your favourite thing in the world, you were a pair that did not get along, but with a few tips and lessons from Alexia's mother, you had nearly perfected one dish that you knew Alexia would die for. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to such extremities as long as you keep to your timetable and she doesn't ruin that.

“Oh my god!” You suddenly exclaimed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, your alarm telling you to get home ASAP going off at that particular moment. “I need to go! You’re going to make me late!” 

Before Alexia could even blink, you had kissed her cheek and turned to head back to your car. But she wasn’t allowing that.

“Oye! Ven aquí, engel.” She sounded serious and a little strict then, you had no choice but to turn around and walk back towards her skeptically. You stood about a foot away from her door, though she beckoned you over with a wave of her hand and raised an eyebrow when you only shuffled a tiny bit. “Ven aquí.”

You rolled your eyes at her and did as she said, though your attitude didn’t stay for long when she pinched your cheeks together with one hand and leaned up to leave a lingering, firm kiss to your pouted lips that momentarily turned your brain to mush. After she pulled back, she chuckled a little menacingly at the daze she left you in, until you blinked out of whatever not so PG thoughts you’d fallen into and back to the present. 

“Don’t distract me!” You groaned, pushing her face away gently with your palm. “Have fun with your friends, I’ll see you later. At the right time, Ale!”

Fortunately for you, she did show up on ti- well, two minutes early actually, but you were running ahead of schedule thanks to the gracious extra time you gave yourself in case anything did go wrong. Some things… did go wrong, but all were salvageable, and now you had the most beautiful aroma of slow-cooked, completely homemade (apart from the actual pasta) shredded beef ragu pasta circling throughout your apartment, and if you didn’t say so yourself, it could definitely pass as a Michelin star meal.

However, out of all the outcomes you had thought of for that night, there was one that you never could have prepared yourself for.

“You reek of wine.” Was the first thing you said when you opened the door to your pink-cheeked, suspiciously happy girlfriend. You scrunched your nose up at the distinct scent coming from her, or actually it was probably just your hypersensitivity to most smells, whilst Alexia beamed at you from her place rooted in the doorway.

“Hola, guapisima.” The blonde grinned, reaching her arms out and making toddler-esque grabby hands at you, otherwise known as asking for a hug in sober language. 

Your first thought, as you leaned in, was one of anxiety and stress, since you didn’t exactly plan to deal with a wine drunk Alexia for the first time especially with it being her birthday. But then, she hummed almost like a happy cat purring when you wrapped your arms around her, and she seemed relaxed and happy in a different way than you had seen so far. Thankfully she didn’t seem too drunk, maybe just a bit tipsy, and as you held her you giggled at the way she nuzzled her nose into the skin just below your jawline.

“You had fun then? With your friends?” You wondered as you ran a hand up and down her jumper clad back.

“Mhm.” She lifted her head up and smiled at you. You looked in her eyes, and found nothing but carefree and utter contentment swirling around there. It did something to your heart then, a feeling akin to relief and pride settling over you at how at peace she seemed to be in your company. Even if that was assisted by the alcohol in her system. “So happy to be with you now. I waited all day.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Softie.” You teased, giggling at how she tutted in disapproval at your comment and raised an eyebrow at you. “Feliz cumpleaños.”

“Tusen takk.” Alexia grinned in turn, her eyes creasing in the corners. “Ves? I am not early. I am at the right time and hungry, so let me in.”

“No.” You said just as she went to move past you. You tightened your arms around her waist so that she couldn't move, and she frowned grumpily as a result. “You're two minutes early, actually.”

“Vale.” She sighed, giving up the fight much easier than you expected, which only raised your suspicions further. “You cooked, sí? Mami said you were cooking a big meal?”

“I did, it's almo-” You were right to be wary of her behaviour, as her hands slipped down to the back of your thighs and she hoisted you up into her arms, catching you off guard. You pushed the door shut behind her before she walked away, only just managing to reach it over her shoulder as she started walking through your flat. “Ale! What are you doing?!”

Not that she made it too far before she almost sent the two of you flying down to the floor when she bumped into the set of drawers near the entryway.

“Be careful! How much did you drink?” You scolded lightly, grabbing onto the door frame that led into the kitchen to steady yourselves. 

“Hmm… does it matter?” She answered, curving the question with a smile on her face before the smell of food cooking caught her attention.

“No, you can’t be in here yet! Put me down, get out!” You panicked slightly at how the surprise would have been ruined as she went to head over to the stove, though it was instantly relieved when Alexia stopped in her tracks and lowered you back down to the floor with a grumble. “You can’t know yet, I need to serve it up. Go sit at the table and wait, please behave. No funny business.”

“I will stay here and behave and watch you.” The midfielder compromised, and with a defeated sigh, you nodded and got started with the final steps of the evening. 

“You're so weird.” You muttered, turning to glance back at her where she leaned back against the wall with her hands clasped behind her like a bored, young child when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Not weird.” She grumbled, giving up on standing around and waiting, instead wandering over to stand beside you, drooling at the food you'd prepared until something caught her eye. “What is this?”

She picked up the piece of paper she saw and read through it – albeit with slightly blurred vision – and felt a wave of adoration wash over her.

“Oh, it's the… timetable I wrote for myself tonight. So I didn't forget anything.” You replied sheepishly, opting out of facing the blonde in case her and her unpredictable drunken antics decided to tease you for it.

You knew it might be a little weird to anyone else that you'd make such a detailed outline for the evening, but it was something you had always done and it hadn't failed you thus far. It was very meticulous, with timings for food and reminders of tiny things you didn't want to forget and when you could get ready for her arrival as the dinner cooked without it ruining the process. 

Though, Alexia didn't think it was weird or unusual. To her, it was just another glimpse into your mind and how it worked, and she treasured it anytime she got to see that. She was sure, when you weren't looking and didn't need it anymore, she'd slip it into her pocket and keep it as a memory. Sure it might just be a lined bit of paper ripped out of the nearest notebook with scribbled notes that only you could understand, but for Alexia it was a sentimental souvenir that represented so much more than just a nice evening together. Making sure everything went perfect and was well organised that night was one of your many ways of demonstrating your love for her and how deep it ran.

“I really appreciate you setting up this evening for us.” Alexia began quietly, resting her chin on your shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around your waist as her hand found its place on your hip. “Mi novia bonita. You are the best.” 

“I'm sorry we aren't going out or doing anything fancy.” You mumbled insecurely, suddenly shrinking in on yourself and allowing the doubts to come in. 

Alexia might be here with a smile on her face, but would she have been happier elsewhere? An actual Michelin star restaurant with a girlfriend that could handle more than half an hour in such an environment? Dressed up to the nines and paying a bill of, at the very least, three digits rather than putting up with a haphazard home-cooked meal and a night in?

“Why you say that?” Alexia frowned, gently taking the dish you were holding as well as the ladle in your other hand and putting them both down for the time being. She put the lid back on the pot so that the food didn't cool too much, before urging you to face her with her hand moving to your shoulder. “Why, when I think this is the perfect way to spend my birthday?”

“Because other years you've had parties and nights out, you've told me all about them and the dinners you've had and stuff. This is just… nothing compared to all those. But it's all I can give you and it doesn't feel like enough. I just… I tried my best though.” 

The words come out thick and fast with little warning, revealing stresses that you'd carried on your shoulders for days since you came up with the idea for this night. You tried to disguise them, whenever Alexia asked previously you what was up you shrugged her off, but of course it was now of all moments that you spilt all you felt. 

“No. No, no, no.” Alexia said, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl of determination, which you took as anger.

“I am sorry, Alexia, I did try my b-”

“And your best is so much more than I could wish for.” She cut you off in a firm voice, her hands on either side of your neck as her thumbs under her chin tilted your head up to face her. “It is more than enough. I see what you have done here for me and I see you. Not what you can't do. Those other things for my birthday, they were more for my family and my friends to enjoy. I liked them, but… there is a reason I didn't want to do all that this year and it's not because of you. It's because it's not what I want, but you know what I want, and I know that because you've planned this night and it is perfect for me.”

With her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair from… well, from what you weren't sure though it probably had the same reasonings as the red tinge to her cheeks, but it was her wide eyes that really tied off the slightly manic appearance of her. Like, if you didn't believe everything she said, she might go on a tipsy rampage against everyone that had done you so wrong it had led to your current doubtful mindset. 

Your hands were clasped in front of you, fidgeting as you processed her words which had been a little unexpected. Perhaps a drunk Alexia wasn't such a worrying thing like you thought it might be.

“A… are you sure? I mean, I d-” 

“Spending time with the woman I love? She cooks an amazing meal for me? And it is just us, nobody else?” She interrupted you again, a soft smile on her face as her thumbs carefully caressed the soft skin of your cheeks. “I love that, cariño, I really have been so excited all day. Please, never… belittle yourself over what you can't do, when everything that you are doing is more than good enough for everybody around you. Nobody loves like you do and I feel very lucky to be the one that gets all you have to give.”

Definitely not as bad as you feared.

“You…” Speechless, you trailed off and shook your head. So you leaned in and hugged her, because there was very little you could say to repay her for her thoughtfulness other than- “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi amor.” Alexia hummed into your ear, swaying you both on the spot before her temporarily depleted attention span averted back to the pasta that was calling her name. “I also love pasta so please let me eat now. Two minutes have passed, no?” 

There was a grin pressed against the skin of your neck as you lightly hit her back for her comment. That night with Alexia was just another example of how well she truly knew you, unlike anyone you'd ever met. And that pride from earlier? It returned as you say across from her at the dinner table, a rich amount of pasta dished up in front of you both, because she said you knew her too. You knew her too. 

As it turned out, your cooking skills far surpassed Alexia's expectations, nevermind your own. She may have been a tiny bit worried considering the few but memorable occasions of you trying to cook for her, so she'd have to thank her mother in a very generous way, because it might have been one of the best things she'd ever been served. When the midfielder slumped back in her chair, the button to her trousers undone after stuffing her face with a week’s worth of pasta, her eyes never steered away from you.

You weren't doing anything of note, you were simply loading the dishwasher up with the plates and cutlery and whatnot that you'd used that day. Yet, for your girlfriend, there was so much love blooming through her chest she had no idea what to do with it apart from gaze at you like you were the one who had invented football.

“Your presents are in my bedroom by the way. I, um… may have gone a bit overboard.” You admitted shyly as you went to go back to your chair, though you were stopped in your tracks when an arm curved around your waist and pulled you down to sit on Alexia’s lap.

“Your bedroom?” She said lowly, a glint in her eyes that were solely focused on your lips. You blushed, knowing exactly what was on her mind, having come to recognise the pattern in her behaviour when she wanted… something in particular. You dragged the whole thing out, knowing it only ended in one way, but where’s the fun in that?

“Mhm.” You nodded, your heart rate speeding up a tad at how she smirked afterwards.

“Vaya, qué conveniente, no?” Alexia murmured, leaning in so that your noses brushed together and your lips were millimetres apart. At her teasing, you tried to resist the bashful smile but Alexia saw it for a split second before you could repress it. “Bueno. Vamos.”

In an instant, she was up from her seat with you in her arms, one strict destination in her mind with one very likeable goal. 

“Ale, I just had a giant bowl of pasta!” 

“No me importa, mi amor.” She sang, before kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both.

—

From an outsider’s perspective, your relationship seemed just as perfect as it was in your point of view. Didn’t take a genius to recognise that; five minutes with you and Alexia, anyone could see how much you valued each other.

“-and then my mother rang Mapi, like actually called her, just to see if I was lying. They teamed up on me, snuppa, my mother and my girlfriend. Over soup.” 

“That is… you got yourself into that mess, Ingrid. I can’t comment. Can’t take sides.”

Just like it had been ten years ago, back home in Norway in a tiny hotel in Oslo, you and Ingrid were sharing a room for an away game. There had been training, dinner, and now it was downtime where everybody could choose what they wanted to do. With Alexia at the press conference and Mapi… doing whatever Mapi did, you and Ingrid settled for a relaxed night in, though the movie you’d landed on was long forgotten in the background.

“You just took a side. Unbelievable.” The dark-haired woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. You grinned, lay on your side on your bed as Ingrid painted her nails across from you on hers.

It was peaceful and just what you wanted it to be, some time alone with your second favourite person in your life where you could just exist in each other’s company. Unfortunately, though to nobody’s surprise, it didn’t last long.

“Buenas noches.” Alexia smiled as she walked in, somehow having acquired a keycard to your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in confusion, not expecting to see her for the rest of the evening since you weren’t sharing a room.

“Oh, what a lovely greeting.” She scoffed jokingly, disregarding the fact you were midway through a conversation and flopping down onto the space next to you. The blonde lay on her stomach, face turned into your back as an arm flung around your waist. And she just stayed there.

With a glance at Ingrid, who shrugged her shoulders, you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics before the pair of you slipped back into conversation like nothing had happened. Alexia piped up every now and then, but for the most part, she remained quiet and just relished in your company. 

Ingrid hadn’t seen these sides to either of you, ever.

It was something small, you and Alexia didn't even exchange a word, but there was a smile on your face as you chatted with Ingrid that the defender didn't see much until Alexia came into your life. Still, it was big enough for her to come to a realisation. Two, actually.

First, that you were happy with Alexia, which made her beam with joy for you and feel extra grateful for Alexia. The second, though, was something she had hoped would happen the minute she caught wind of the transfer rumours. You were completely, genuinely, whole-heartedly happy with your life at Barcelona. And in Barcelona too of course, but you weren't currently in the city at that moment, you were halfway across the country, so. But her point still stood.

However, no matter how much she valued your happiness, she could get to that another time. For now, she wanted-

“I want to go to sleep now.” She decided, zipping up the bag in which she kept all her nail stuff for when she travelled, looking at the two of you on the bed and noting the puzzled expression on your face.

“Then go to sleep, Ingrid, nobody is stopping you.” Alexia chuckled behind you at that, quickly leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before sitting up. 

“No, she is trying to tell me to get out.” She yawned, sharing a smile with Ingrid at your misunderstanding.

“Oh. Well, get out then. You’re not even supposed to be here.” Ingrid grinned at your reply that had Alexia frowning, not expecting you to go against her.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, cari.” She argued, nudging your knee.

“Ask Ingrid. I don’t take sides. The only side I’m on is the right side of justice.” Ingrid bursted out laughing at that and you had to stifle your own, though you did smile at the unimpressed but amused look on Alexia’s face. “Take it up with the club, those are the rules. You’re the captain. I’m sure they will be so glad to hear you can’t stay away from your girlfriend for a few hours overnight.”

The captain shook her head and stood, tugging you off the bed and wrapping you up in a hug that had a better purpose than simply saying goodnight. She slipped her own keycard into your pocket and whispered something unintelligible for Ingrid’s ears to you. Then, she left with a grin, and Ingrid scoffed as you turned back to her shyly, cheeks bright red.

“You know what, I don’t even want to know.” Ingrid said, gathering her things to take into the bathroom to start her night routine.

“It was nothing like that!” You claimed abruptly, realising where her mind had gone. You hesitated for a moment, before remembering who it was in front of you. “She was just being sweet. Saying she would miss me for the night.”

All Ingrid could do was shake her head at the pair of you and how utterly loved up you were, because with every glimpse she caught of the true nature of your connection with each other, it exceeded her hopes and expectations every single time. So, with her hands on her hips as she took the sight of you smiling with a soft shyness to your face and how you fidgeted with the keycard in your pocket, she had no qualms expressing her feelings.

“Do you know how much it means to me? To see you this happy with someone?” Was what she said, which you weren’t expecting at all. You were expecting more teasing, or for her to just tell you to be quiet so she could get ready for bed. Certainly not that.

“What do you mean?” You wondered quietly. She came to stand in front of you and put her hands on your shoulders, meeting your curious stare with a proud look in her eye.

“It just makes me happy to see that you have found someone that treats you exactly as you deserve to be treated. Who isn't afraid to ask questions, who goes above and beyond for you, who sees you for who you are. I had no idea Alexia would be that person for you but I am so glad she is. I am just… relieved and proud that this is how things have worked out for you with moving to this club. I was worried you wouldn't like it but you have really made a place for yourself. And you even got yourself a girlfriend, like, look at you go!” Ingrid beamed, shaking you a little from excitement as she spoke. 

You giggled at her because this moment was so Ingrid, but at the same time, it tugged on your heart strings. Her words put things into perspective for you about everything that had happened since you left Germany, and though there had been lows, there were so many more highs than you realised. Even still, the best was yet to come.

There wasn’t a single part of you that would ever get tired of hearing how proud and happy Ingrid was for you. You’d looked up to her since the moment you met her, she was an example to you, like a big sister. No way would you be the person you were without her. She’s one of those people you hold onto for life, and you would spend the rest of yours trying to repay her for everything she’d done for you.

The next morning, when Ingrid woke up alone in your shared hotel room, she wasn’t even surprised, nor was she the slightest bit concerned for your whereabouts. There was only one place you would be, and though you cruelly abandoned her some point during the night, the sight of you walking in with Alexia, wearing her training jersey with 11 printed on it, her arm around your shoulders as you giggled at something she said to you, was very much welcome.

—

When something wasn’t quite right with Alexia, your entire world felt off-kilt, until you got to the bottom of what was up with her. Sometimes she’d willingly come to you for some support and comfort, other times she was reluctant, and very much stuck in her own head.

Like, for example, just before the season started ramping up, she got a minor muscle injury that’d keep her out for a couple weeks. Everyone knew how it’d make her feel, but it was up to you to be there and reassure her that no, the world wasn’t ending, and yes, she could be the little spoon for that evening. 

Alexia was a bit of a doom-thinker, which not many people knew about, but it was the truth. The moment she was told some bad news, there was a frown paired with a scowl which both were so deeply imprinted on her face, if there was a gust of strong wind, she might actually, genuinely, get stuck like that. Her mind worked on overdrive, thinking and thinking and thinking until she could land on the fastest solution to whatever was wrong. When there wasn’t an immediate solution, well… you wouldn’t be surprised if her head exploded.

So, after having gone home before Alexia was done with her physio assessment, you raced back as soon as you could the second one of the Barca staff told you she was still there, on her own, watching the B-team’s training session. You had tried ringing her, though you knew her phone was most likely sitting in her bag in the locker room as she attempted to gain some peace of mind. The captain had apparently been there for quite some time, however, and you felt she’d had enough time on her own to process it before she needed the care of someone she loved.

She sat on the second-to-top row of the bleachers, hood up and cap on with her hands in her pockets, slumped back against her chair as her eyes tracked every movement of the young players in front of her. You approached her quietly and cautiously, as if trying not to spook away some sort of wild, erratic, unpredictable animal. But no, it was just your emotionally inept girlfriend- inept only when it came to football and injuries.

Even though she could definitely hear you, she gave nothing away.

“Ale? Can I sit with you, or would you like some more time on your own?” You asked gently, the blonde staying silent. “I can leave if you’d like. Just thought I’d come check on you.”

After a second or two, she shook her head and waved you over. She didn’t really know what to say, her mind was split in half and each side was fighting it out between being angry and being logical. She knew she’d be back in no time, but there were still games missed. Missed games, missed opportunities.

You took the seat beside her and tried to get a read on her face, which was entirely emotionless apart from the way she pursed her lips and the slight scowl she had that couldn’t be blamed on the sun, thanks to her hat. Without really knowing how she felt, you didn’t know what to do. Alexia had never lashed out at you to ever give you the wrong idea, but you really didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her feel worse, or angry.

That was until, about a minute after you sat down, she shuffled a little closer in her seat to where you sat, her shoulder just slightly brushing against yours. You knew that was her silently reaching out, so you complied easily, and rested a hand on her thigh, which she immediately grasped onto with her own. 

“It is so annoying.” You heard her say some time later, her voice just a whisper which had the tiniest crack of emotion in it. “And I am annoyed that I feel annoyed.”

Her eyes were still unmoving from the pitch, but as you looked at her, you smiled sadly, and slipped your hand out of hers to wrap an arm around her shoulders. You coaxed her closer to you, glad when she leaned your head against yours. You would never wish for her to be in this position or a situation similar, but right now you knew she was okay and safe, so you relished in the fact she sought you out, like you did when the roles were reversed. It was the wrong moment to think such a thing, but you were almost relieved that she also needed you when she was going through a difficult time, like you needed her. 

“I know. Nobody expects you to just sit back, take this news, and not be angry that an injury has come when you’re so in form. And when the team needs everybody because it’s going to get hectic soon. Let yourself feel frustrated, you’re allowed to and expected to. But when we wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna come here, and you’re gonna get on with rehab because that is your mindset. You know, when you get up in the morning, these resentful feelings will have gone. You just have to feel them.” You settled on reminding her that she knows she will get past it, because it was the truth, and trying to sugarcoat anything or pretending like all was okay would have been the wrong way to go about this situation. 

Alexia was ineffably grateful. For you coming to be beside her, for your words, and just for you overall. She always found these first moments after bad news difficult, but the road ahead of her seemed so much clearer with every bit of reassurance you gave.

“And you will be with me, huh?” She turned to you with a slight smirk, an act you knew was a classic performance of fake it ‘til you make it. If she acted confident, maybe she would start to feel somewhat sure of herself again.

“And I will be with you for every second of it. Every second.” You told her with a bright smile, and the combination of that and your dedication to her also brought a smile of her own to her face. “You are the most determined person I have ever met. But it is human to have blips. It’s why I’m here; to try to make you feel better because you don’t have to go through blips alone.”

Somehow, you were saying all the right things, even if you thought you were just muddling through an internal checkbook of ‘things people say to each other during hard times.’ Seeing Alexia with a smile on her face compared to the stormy expression she wore when you arrived was a huge boost in confidence. Even more so when she turned her body towards you and ducked her head down so that she could rest her chin on your shoulder as she brought you in for a hug that comforted you just as much as it did her.

“Thank you for coming here.” She mumbled into your jacket, and you kissed her cheek afterwards. 

“Always. It is my duty to the team, no?” You couldn’t help but grin in triumph when she laughed, slightly muffled by your clothes, but she laughed nevertheless. “And as your girlfriend, I suppose.”

“You suppose.”

“Fine. It is my duty, a duty I take very seriously. A duty I’m very good at, considering I’ve got you here in my arms, laughing like you didn’t look like you wanted to watch the world burn when I arrived.”

“You are… annoying. Cocky, smug, and annoying. Stop it.”

—

You were serious when you said you’d be there every second along her rehab. As you had told her, it was a duty you took very seriously. But how serious, Alexia didn’t know in that instance at the training ground. 

One of your favourite love languages for others was gift giving, you were sort of known as the best present-buyer with everyone you know, because that was also another thing you did not joke about. Though, it was your spontaneity with such a habit that you knew people appreciated most. And who else would be at the top of that long list of people, other than your girlfriend. 

Even if you did accidentally almost send her to hospital as you walked into her apartment out of the blue as she sat at her dining table with her headphones on. 

Since she was out of playing action and feeling a little useless with what she could give to the team, she basically took it upon herself to take notes of the matches and training sessions that she’d missed whilst she was gone so that she could send them to the team and hope they got good use out of it. That meant her attention was entirely on her laptop and notepad when you walked in, a small gift bag in your hand and a nervous look on your face, which she missed of course.

It wasn’t until you were stood beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she jumped out of her skin and slammed her headphones down on the table so hard out of fear, you worried she’d broken them. Then, she exhaled deeply, hand on her heart as she worked to slow it down once she noticed it was you. Unfortunately for her, you had no control over the laughter that bubbled out of you at her dramatic reaction, to which she groaned and pulled you closer with an arm around your waist, hiding her face in your stomach out of embarrassment. 

At that point, you noticed something very convenient for the gift you had bought her. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun, making your life so much easier.

“Close your eyes, Ale. I have something for you, you’re not allowed to see it.” 

“Why get me something if I cannot see what it is?” She argued, putting on that frustratingly endearing faux innocent expression she often put on when trying to fight her case over something small and light-hearted like this.

“Just be quiet and do what I say.” You told her, attempting to be stern but it was entirely futile when she gazed up at you like that, and before you’d even finished your sentence, there was a smile on your face. 

Despite how she rolled her eyes teasingly, she closed her eyes and sat still, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. As she sat there, she could hear you reaching into the bag she spotted and taking something out of it, but other than that, she was none the wiser to what her surprise was. Her eyebrows shot up when she felt you lay something delicate around her neck.

“Engel, what have you done?” She enquired, her eyes still shut as she fought the urge to open them prematurely.

You stayed silent, making sure the present was secure, before tapping her shoulder to indicate you were done and stepping back shyly. The second she opened her eyes, she fixed you with a knowing, accusatory glare, before standing and heading over to the mirror, where her face lit up at what she saw.

A dainty gold chain sat perfectly across her neckline, a simple piece of jewellery that immediately jumped up to the top of her favourites. There wasn’t anything outrightly extravagant about it, it was discreet and meant to be worn with daily casual clothes, but Alexia wondered how she’d gone without it for so long, because it was truly perfect. She couldn’t find a better word to describe it. Maybe priceless, because the sentiment behind it was even more beautiful to her than the appearance of it. 

You had gone out with some friends having woken up without Alexia beside you that morning with no plans to see each other that day. Yet, there you were, showing up out of the blue with a surprise that she treasured after having it in her possession for no more than a minute. It was supposed to be an entirely inconspicuous day for the pair of you, but that flew out the window when you decided to get her a gift that could probably never be topped.

Alexia never really found herself as someone that people randomly bought gifts for. Sure, her mother and her sister might spot something and get it for her, but other than that, everyone assumed she had everything she could ever need, what with her wages and her sponsors and bonuses for all the thirty titles she’d won. She never would have known that a necklace could evoke such a whirlwind of emotion throughout her. It stuck in her mind, on repeat, over and over; you went out shopping with friends, without Alexia even jokingly asking for a present, and had seen something which made you think of her. And you even went so far as to buy it for her, and then surprise her at her own apartment with no warning. 

“It’s just something small, I know it’s not all that special, but I saw it and thought of you and deci-” 

The blonde had a habit of cutting you off when you rambled insecurely, though it wasn’t something you had a particular distaste for. Every time she did so, she stopped you in your tracks and did something that pulled each anxiety from your mind until you forgot what you were even worrying about. Whether that be by talking, or drawing you in for a hug, or offering a distraction, or in this case, indulging in the overwhelming amount of love she felt by kissing the life out of you.

Though, for her, that still wasn’t enough of an expression of her feelings, so just as you caught up with her she pulled away. Her arms were around your waist in an instant, and she lifted you up off the ground and spun you both around, like movie stars in the rain. However, thankfully you were both warm and majoritively dry in the comfort of Alexia’s apartment- majoritively dry, because there were… tears on your neck?

“Are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, surprised that she’d have such a reaction to just a necklace.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Alexia answered with a laugh, using one of her hands to hastily brush away the endless tears that fell. “I am crying because you bought me a necklace. For no reason, you bought me a necklace, and I really l-love that. It means a lot to m-me, amor.” 

Her reaction almost had you crying too; she was adorable, and you hugged her tighter because it felt like that was all you could do. Every day with her, she showed a new side to who she was away from Alexia Putellas, the merciless footballer that was no match for anyone. This version, this emotional, choked up version of her was so heart-warming, part of you wished the world could see it, whilst the rest of you relished in the fact you were the only person to see it. Only you could make her cry over a necklace, and as weird as that was, it was your badge of honour you’d wear with pride. 

Perhaps your bank account wouldn’t agree, but you’d buy her a dainty gold chain everyday of the year if it meant she felt at least half as loved as she made you feel.

—

Somewhere along the way since you first fell in love with Alexia, Barcelona officially became… home. 

Germany was never home, you always knew you’d move away at some point. You liked the city you were in, you thought you loved it at the time, but… Barcelona introduced to you what love actually was, and it was Alexia. 

You didn’t know what life had waiting for you years down the line, and if you thought about that and its unknowns for too long, you would send yourself into an anxious tizzy that was entirely unnecessary. For now, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and it just so happened that you were in Barcelona when that happened. The city was dreamy, though so was the woman you were in love with. So were your friends. Everything about your life was the best it’d ever been.

That, unsurprisingly to you, opened up a world of daydreams and scenarios to think about. The first on your agenda, which was a terrifying one if it didn’t go your way: would Alexia ever want to live with you?

“Ale? Can we talk about something?” You said out of the blue as the pair of you walked along a beach in Madeira, hand in hand as the waves lapped calmly over your feet and the sun and the sky flaunted its beauty with shades of purples, pinks, and oranges, painting the perfect, serene background to a conversation sure to bring some anxiety. 

“Of course. Anything. Do you want to sit down and talk?” Alexia suggested, taking you both a little higher up the sand after you nodded. She took a seat first, before looking up at you with a welcoming smile as you paused for a moment, then sat down.

It was probably ridiculous and childish that you thought so, but you hated how the dynamic of any kind of relationship could change with one conversation. With what you were about to say, you felt sick at the possible outcomes. You knew what you were about to say, whilst Alexia was blissfully unaware of the storm you were about to kick up. The words were on the tip of your tongue as you looked at her, and your mouth opened and closed for a few moments as you built up the courage to speak them. Eventually, you did, and Alexia waited patiently throughout your internal warfare.

“Would you… ever want to, maybe, live together? One day?”

For a few brief moments (the worst of your life), Alexia didn’t respond. In that short time, your anxiety reached whole new heights, convincing you that the next words out of Alexia’s mouth would be her breaking up with you. They weren’t, of course they weren’t.

“I would love to. I really would.” She admitted coyly, smiling and shaking her head at the utter look of shock on your face. “I have been thinking about this for some time, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. So, please, tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” Alexia nodded, a comforting hand landing on your knee. “Well… I don’t know how we would do it.”

“What do you mean? We just decide whose apartment to move to and do that, no?” 

It wasn’t that simple, unfortunately. This was something you did indeed have a lot of thoughts on, and maybe it’d be those that would finally scare her off. 

Alexia was amazing at understanding, but she wasn’t perfect. Nobody could blame her for not being clued in on something like this, especially since it was the first time you were talking about it together.

“I… that wouldn’t work. Not for me anyway.” You started, a little disheartened by the frown that formed on her face. Still, you explained yourself. “If I moved into your apartment, it wouldn’t feel like my home. I love your apartment, I do, but it’s your apartment and always has been. If you moved into my apartment, that would mean that… it’s not my space anymore. Which makes no sense at all because it obviously would be, but… I don’t know how to explain it best. It’s…”

You trailed off, frustrated at how you couldn’t properly articulate yourself in such a delicate situation. But, now that she was clued in, Alexia understood exactly what you meant. 

Your apartment was your dedicated space; having someone move in, no matter who it was, would feel like having an intruder there at all times. Everything would be different in your mind, even if the only physical difference was Alexia, your girlfriend. It’d take you months, or probably even years, to get used to it. And you know you couldn’t live like that, even if you so desperately wanted to. 

Living with Alexia in her apartment would be even worse. You know her apartment as a visitor, but not as a resident. If you lived there, it would constantly feel like you were in someone else’s home and not your own. These two things, though they may be the easiest options theoretically, would cause all kinds of hell for you and probably reverse all the progress you’d made since moving to Spain. It would put strain on everything, from your relationships, to the football you played, to your mental health, everything. It just wasn’t a feasible or healthy option.

“I understand that, mi amor. I understand all that you said.” Alexia tried to reassure you, but you could see the sadness in her eyes that she tried to disguise. She was upset by this new revelation, and that wrecked you. “Please don’t feel guilty about it though. I am not mad or anything.”

You nodded and avoided her eyes, focussing your attention on the ocean in front of you and crossing your arms, like you were protecting yourself. You pulled away from your girlfriend to get away from the inevitable pain of her pulling away instead. Alexia realised that and had to suppress a sigh, not one of annoyance or along those lines, but out of concern, because she could see that turmoil this conversation had caused you. 

She decided to give you a couple minutes to think on your own, wondering if that’s what you’d need to process all that had just occurred. She was right to do that, because you did something rare. Rather than dwelling on the negative outcomes of what just happened, you tried your best to make something good out of it.

Because, in the end, relationships were all about compromise.

“Maybe, next year or next season or whatever, we…” You paused to take a breath, then addressed Alexia directly. She met you with a curious and open gaze, wordlessly encouraging you to get whatever it was off your chest. “We revisit this conversation, and… look at houses together?”

A new, shared space would work. A blank canvas for you both to work together on, to figure out together, to make a house into a home, together.

Alexia’s wide, bright smile was worth more than anything else in the world. One second, she was sat beside you, and the next, she had lunged forward to tackle you to the soft gold ground beneath you, putting her weight on you as she leaned down to shower you with the surge of adoration she felt. She peppered kisses all over your face and down to your neck, eliciting a surprised giggle out of you that was priceless to her. 

Your future, your shared future with the woman that lay on top of you, was in sight and near enough solidified. In a few years, you might not be a Barcelona player, football might take you down a completely different road, but the one you were on now, where you had plans to buy a house with Alexia, was enough for now, enough to settle the anxiety you always got when you thought about the future, because things were pretty good at that moment.

And to tie off an all-round very successful conversation, Alexia said something that summarised your whole relationship in only a single sentence. 

“Whatever you want to do, we will do, because seeing you happy makes me happy also.” 

—

depending on the reaction to this, i have no idea when or if there will be another story after this one. very anxious to post for reverie after all that happened because people have not so fun opinions about this overall topic that can and will wreck me which is pretty scary so :)

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[wonysugar]

going down on a dork || aeri uchinaga

synopsis : giselle, a camgirl, decides to make a dork a special guest on her page.

pairing : camgirl!giselle x bicurious!femreader

genre : smut

tags : cunnilingus, lots of it i think, mentions of fingering, mentions of hetero sex? sorry LMFAO, fem reader is implied to be bicurious, kissing, making out, giselle records this shit on her old gen macbook, we love an aesthetic queen, anyways yeah lesbian sex that’s about it really

word count : 1.9k

a/n : 4am… I TOLD YALL I COULD DO IT!😭😭but yeah uhm here you gooo i kinda don’t really care about it..? like yeah i wrote this butjfrjjf that’s about it… not one of my bests! like honestly this was not worth the wait i made y’all go throughfjdmdn I’M SORRY🙏but yeah erm i’ll proofread tomorrow cause rn i’m fighting demons to not close my eyesss gootnight love y’all or whateva

btw sorry for the thing at the end LMFAOAO i got the idea and just had to, i sincerely apologize

“alright.”

the familiar girl, known online as giselle, backed away from the macbook, grin on her face, and sat back down on the bed with another person, eyeing them excitedly.

“alright.” repeated the other girl, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she sat up, before adding on, “c-can they see me?” earning laughter from the content creator before her.

“oh they’ll definitely see you, just not your face, obviously.” 

the stranger, labeled as the dork in the title of the video, seemed to be somewhat relieved by those words and allowed herself to relax more, leaning back onto the comfy bed and putting all of her weight onto the back of her arms. by getting comfortable, her neck now came into frame, her hair length became visible. 

“so,” giselle spoke softly, her eyes switching back and forth between fixing on the girl’s eyes and lips, that is, with a playful grin. “you excited?” 

that earned a nervous giggle from said girl, “honestly? not even sure what i agreed to do.” 

truth is, this was a recurring thing for the camgirl, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t known on campus for that exact reason, especially by a particular subgroup of girls; she, a lesbian, spends her freetime interesting other women, whether they’re bicurious or simply just bored, into having (mostly oral) sex with her, whilst also being consensually recorded in the act so she can diffuse it online, later on. that was her whole internet thing, among the more solo-esque type of content she put out every now and then.

she gave a respective codename to each girl, as to make sure they stay completely anonymous whilst also giving them a tiny description, something for the viewers to go off of. multiple examples of those immediately come to mind; cheerleader, mom, hell, one of them is even straight up called woman in stem.

now, she had great amounts of fun with all of them, obviously, and all of those one-time occurrences contributed in making her a couple of bucks due to the number of views, nothing to complain about. but in all honesty, they were all just girls at the end of the day. this girl? she couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was something about her, something that exhilarated giselle.

she knew she was gonna have a lot more fun with this dork, and it definitely showed through her giddy-like expression when she spoke to her, she was by far the most entertaining one she’s ever had to partake with, and she hadn’t even done anything to her yet.

yet.

despite the under-average quality of the macbook giselle always filmed her videos with, anybody could guess that due to the setting, the initial rendezvous was a cozy study session, with nothing but the slight yet bright daytime sunshine breaking into the room through the mostly curtain-covered windows.

the title foreshadowed it all, however, and all it took were those uncertain words to make giselle want to turn that short conversation, this whole hangout, into something else, something more. she crawled closer and pressed her lips against the dork’s. the kiss was slow and gentle, as well as being the only thing audible in the silent room at that moment. 

she pulled away from the first contact, then softly spoke out a “you’ll figure it out eventually.” loud enough that the shitty microphone picked it up, before leaning back in again, this time in a comfier position as to properly straddle the nervous girl that was under her.

to the latter’s own surprise, she returned the kiss that was placed on her lips; it was clear she would’ve wanted to do more than just sit there and take it, easier said than done. she wished to actually allow her own hands to explore giselle on a deeper, more personal level, essentially getting accustomed to the feeling of having her body in this close of a proximity to hers, but alas, that wasn’t going to happen for a while, especially since that would officially mark the day that she’s ever touched another girl in such a suggestive manner. the laptop camera recording their every move just further added onto the feeling.

giselle knew that, though, the nervousness that radiated from the girl she intertwined her lips with was so thick in the air that she could practically touch it if she tried. “come on, pretty girl, relax.” she whispered to the girl in between kisses. it obviously didn’t take long after that for the kiss to get hungrier and more heated, which eventually resulted in having her slowly slide down to the dork’s neck, now dragging her lips across and planting messy kisses there, as well as leaving gentle suckles and nibbles. “it’s just you and me.” she added, her hot breath on the girl’s skin.

if giselle were asked to describe that day in full detail, she’d spend at least ten whole minutes gushing and rambling about how fucking good that girl smelled.

the latter seemingly let go and eventually left all of the work to the more experienced woman, taking in all of what was being put on her, slowly learning to ride on the waves of intimacy. soon enough, a content giselle slowly ran her hand up the girl’s graphic tee and reached for the back of her bra, attempting to unhook it with one hand.

which, she successfully did, by the way; muscle memory always came in handy in instances like these.

much to the other girl’s disappointment, giselle pulled away from her attention-deprived neck, breathing heavily as she looked down at the already somewhat visible markings, admiring her work. “do you have a boyfriend?” 

confusion now occupied the majority of the dork’s fuzzy mind, “n-no..” she replied, still shaken up by the mere, previous things the pink haired woman had done to her already, “i wouldn’t be doing this if i did.”

giselle smiled, amused by that answer, eyes hooded with nothing but intent and lust as she stared, “then, are you talking to anybody?”

“well…” responded the other reluctantly, now thinking more carefully as to figure out what exactly to call the strange relationship she held with the boy whose face popped up in her mind. “i-i guess you could say that.” 

giselle traced circles around the nervous girl’s stomach, hand slipped under that tee, with her black and white acrylic nails, feline-like gaze still fixed on her lips. “when was the last time you saw him?”

“..yesterday.”

“yeah?” she asked for confirmation, slightly tilting her head in query before subtly leaning closer, “tell me about it.”

“well,” started the girl, looking away as her hands found and held onto anything, her fingers fidgeting some more and playing with the bedsheets she was laying on, twisting, pulling, keeping her muscles busy. she felt like she had to use her entire brain power to recall the elements of the past evening and properly form them into words. she had barely succeeded,  “h-he asked if he could come over, i said yes, obviously, and we… uhm—”

thrown off by the sudden movement of hands slowly pulling down her sweatpants, she went silent and turned back to the girl in front of her as she tried to compose her untamed thoughts. 

“you..?” 

“right.” visibly distracted by the risky contact, the girl further struggled to speak, “w-we.. uh, we had sex.”

giselle smiled knowingly, “well no shit, genius.” 

giggling as she now had completely taken off the sweatpants of the person laying before her, she continued, “i meant in detail; i wanna know everything.”

“oh.” sighed out the girl, both in relief of finally feeling giselle’s hands on her deprived skin again and in thought.

the pink haired chuckled, clearly excited.

this was exciting, both for the viewers and the two parties involved.

the video cut to a more intense scene, the somewhat awkward tension having evaporated into the air and leaving more space for hunger, and desire.

“m-mmh—“ 

with a long, slow and almost painful swipe of the tongue, giselle managed to completely obliterate the girl’s train of thought yet again, leaving her a whimpering mess. the taste of her slick coating the entire surface of her tongue.

“just from one lick? fuck..” she lowly whispered into her cunt, practically to herself, slowly panting into it like a hyperactive dog would. she carefully spread the slightly swollen, moist with slick lips as she stared. it was so pretty, all exposed, wet and vulnerable for her.

she made her feel this way.

and because of it, she couldn’t help but want to give it another taste.

“come on, keep telling.” she reminded the girl with a smirk, who happened to have covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “i’m dying to know more, you know?”

that’s when she fully leaned into said girl’s core, tongue first; leaving gentle kisses and suckles all around the very clearly aroused bundle of nerves before going to town. it was hard to see the details, but it definitely wasn’t hard to hear them and what was going. 

every wet sound, every kiss, every lick, every suckle, every noise that forced itself out of giselle’s throat; all of it was audible.

“h-he ate me out...” softly moaned the girl, now practically biting on her hand to muffle as much noise as she could. this was a college dorm, after all. “he had his lips around my clit a-and his fingers curling inside of me and— fuck.”

giselle was visibly smiling against the girl’s core before pulling away for a quick moment, “if it weren’t for my nails, i would’ve fingered you as soon as you laid on this bed, baby girl.”

giselle would never do that for any of the other girls, her videos consisted of cunnilingus and cunnilingus only.

perhaps the dork was one of a kind?

“i know..” she responded hazily, her voice hoarse and shaky, “you w-would’ve done it better than him.”

“that’s right.” that earned a smile from the pink haired, a prideful and cocky one, “you know me so well, don’t you?”

“mhm.” she said, letting out a whine as she nodded in response to feeling the camgirl’s mouth on her. her body slightly jolted with each contact, the way giselle’s tongue maneuvered around her fragile flower, experience radiating through her movements and eye contact, even through the way she held onto her thighs. 

the girl kept telling, eventually even recalling describing every detail about how the boy fucked her. that, despite being fucked out of her right mind and forgetting how to form words properly.

all of those events were enough to drive the girl closer to the edge after a while.

“ae—“ she stopped mid-sentence and quickly corrected herself, “—giselle i’m about to c-cum..”

the camgirl kept doing what she did best, if not more intensely than previously. she needed to see that pretty girl cum her brains out all over her mouth. she was gonna make her numerous times if she was presented the opportunity.

giselle needed to see how even prettier the girl looked when she came.

the orgasm itself hit her like a truck, a loud one at that. she had unconsciously grabbed a fistful of giselle’s hair and pushed her head closer to her pussy, grinding on her and riding out her excess of dopamine. 

the girl eventually let go, and the video ended after the camgirl pulled away and sat back up, staring at the girl. both of them looking at each other and giggling together, giselle’s dimples more prominent than ever. 

maybe they giggled from nervousness? maybe it was from excitement? 

one thing was for sure, though, giselle was quick to book an appointment with her nail tech as soon as she could.

[ubeb0nes]

NSFW Sevika HCs

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A/n: i haven't written any smut in god knows how long so pls go easy yall 😭

𖢻 ~ ~ ~ 𖢻

This is a dom

I love indulging in the bottom!sevika content when i come across it, it's beautiful, showstopping

But bby, you only get to do what she lets you do. Even when she's on bottom, you're never really the one in charge, no matter how you might try to convince yourself

She's a terrible tease, and has an absolutely filthy mouth. Loves watching your jaw drop slightly when she whispers things in public, and how you scramble to gather yourself

Her self-control and patience is absolutely insane. She's not one to jump your pants at the first tease you give her.

She'll let you have her fun, all while running the tip of her tongue across a canine and plotting her revenge

Gets a big head/ego if you call her mommy. Nearly loses her mind and reputation for restraint if you call her daddy

A lot of her turn-ons are things that aren't inherently sexual. I like to think she's attracted to both masc and fem-presenting people, and anything leaning deeper into these characteristics will get a rise out of her.

Ex.'s -> watching you put on makeup in the mornings, specifically lipstick/gloss. Conversely, how your thighs look and your face hardens when you manspread while striking a deal. When you look up at her and rest your hands on her chest. When you lean back and rest your arm over the back of her chair

Particularly masculine and particularly feminine things. She eats up both

Absolutely a bit of a sadist/madochist. We know this from the whole cait thing

She's obsessed with your mouth in particular. The marks you leave, the shapes it makes with certain sounds she pulls from you, how your lips wrap around her fingers when she teases your mouth open with them

She rarely ever has you on your back because she wants to watch your tongue loll and your eyes roll

Goes crazy for certain things you say when you start to reach melted brain levels of fucked out; "baby, it's too much…" "Sevi, i can't keep going" "no, baby, no more…" it's like a second wave. And, (always) only with your emphatic consent, she'll proceed to push your body even more

Her favorite position is missionary i'm sorry lmfao. Vanilla in theory, but definitely doesn't feel like it when she's slinging that shimmerstrap LOL

I HC she's generally pretty gentle with you, at least lovesick!sevika is. In the sense that she's not tossing you around or slapping your ass purple.

Rather, she'll wrap her hand around your throat but not really squeeze. And she'll push her fingers down your throat until you're teary-eyed, but she won't fuck your throat until it's raw and sore.

She prefers using her hands and her mouth, but her strap game is insane. That stroke would be hypnotic to watch.

Her eyes read clearly when it comes to intimacy. The way they darken and narrow when she's about to pounce on you, and how they always get so glossy and self-satisfied (if not a bit smug) as she watches you cum.

Her crows feet crease as she smiles down at you, whispering "good job, baby" and "there's my girl, you're okay. I've got you."

Always insists on taking care of you afterwards, but won't fight you on it if you flip it on her and make her lay back so you can clean her up

In fact, please do this. She'll think about it for weeks

Cuddles you afterward like she's trying to burrow in your skin. Can't get enough of the smell of you post-sex, burying her nose in your neck and your hair

Yeah, she's never sharing you. Everything about you is too precious, too hers.

She demands hickeys/lipstick marks on her chest- over her heart- because your claim over her deepens her own.

[pathologicalreid]

merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.

in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol

To: xreader@gmail.com From: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com Subject: Merry Christmas

Hey,

Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.

Good afternoon,

Much too formal.

Hello,

Too rigid.

Darling,

I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.

Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  

Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.

That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.

You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.

There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?

I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.

It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.

Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.

I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.

I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.

Merry Christmas,

Spencer

He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.

To: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com From: mailer-daemon@googlemail.com Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)

Message blocked.

Your message to xreader@gmail.com has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[mattybsgroupie]

milf | chris sturniolo

contents: handjob (m receiving); p in v; mommy kink; corruption kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: i was so, so excited for this one. and i'm so happy for all the support on my silly ideas. this is the whole story of this blurb but it's just a taste, because i want to do a series about them. i wanna write about the first time they ever saw each other, how did chris confess to her, the time she came back to her husband, everything. there's so much to explore about these two and i hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i did. i love yall so much ♡ btw this is so long and not proofread please don’t hate me

♡⊹𑄽୧

it was a silent, cold afternoon at home. your daughter was away, traveling with her father — your ex-husband — and you were enjoying some much needed alone time. the sun was setting and the wind blew through the windows as you adjusted yourself on the couch and took a sip of the coffee you were holding in your left hand.

you heard three knocks from the back door, letting out a deep sigh from the back of your throat. you got up to stretch your tired bones and walked in slow steps towards the kitchen, opening the door. it was chris.

christopher sturniolo, one of your daughter’s best friends. he was energetic, funny, educated and extremely attractive for his age. the type of guy you’d want for your daughter — the gentle, sweet kid, who was surprisingly smart and was definitely going to be a great husband.

however at this moment, chris looked tired. his eyebags were darker and his usual easy smile wasn’t here. he seemed… exhausted.

“hi, dear” you said in your gentle, yet sensual tone, which always caught chris off guard. there was something about your voice that soothe him at the same time it got him worked up, the conflicting feelings taking over his chest.

“uhm, hey” chris said, scratching the back of his head. you noticed how his fingers tangled on his own hair — chris was tense. the other hand was hidden inside his pocket, his bruised lips looking even prettier under the sunset.

you smiled gently, thinking your daughter could’ve forgotten to tell him she’d be absent “she’s not here today, honey”.

“i know” chris answered abruptly, his gaze floating from your chest to his own shoes. “c-can i come in?”. with a simple nod, you entered the house, waiting for chris to join. he closed the back door and made his way to the kitchen, quietly following you around.

“i haven’t cooked since it’s just me” you said, noticing how his blue eyes scanned the empty table.

“oh” chris hadn’t realized you paid just as much attention to him as he did to you. “y-you don’t have to” he said. you raised an eyebrow and placed both of your hands on your hips, a classic mom pose. “i just like your food, that’s all” he looked away as you chuckled.

“aw, baby!” you cooed, genuinely happy with his confession as you opened your arms, offering him a warm, tender hug. “fuck, don’t call me that” chris mumbled under his breath as you approached him. you clicked your tongue in disapproval, silently calling him out. you were the older one and he needed to show some respect.

that’s when you noticed it. chris had failed to cover his pathetic boner, standing there, hard, in front of you.

you dragged your feet towards chris in slow, rhythmic steps, the sound of your heels clacking against the floor taking over the empty house. with a grin, you placed your hand on his tummy, chuckling at the contrast of your red nails and his baby blue hoodie. 

“chris, what’s this?” you say as if you’re surprised, gradually lowering your hand to his pants, gently palming his hardened cock. “you’re a naughty, naught boy” chris whined, throwing his head back as he finally felt your hand around him. 

this had happened a few times — a couple more than it should. chris was just so, so needy. your maternal instinct could always tell when he needed a hug or some encouragement, and you always gave it to him. until the hugs got tighter and the words turned to whispers, the handshakes turned to interlocking fingers and the quick gazes became lingering stares. one day, you don’t exactly recall how, chris ended up sitting on your lap, which led to your first kiss and chris inevitably cumming untouched inside his jeans.

“i just— ‘m s-sorry” he gasped when you finally got a proper grip of his cock, stroking him over his sweaters. 

“i don’t think you are” you teased, pulling his waistband and wrapping your knuckles around chris’s dick, which was covered in pre-cum. his cock twitched inside your fist when you placed a kiss on his neck, as if it was the first time he had ever been touched. “hm? what is it baby?”

“mommy” he breathed out without even thinking. his eyes were closed and his forehead was glued to your shoulder, his pathetic moans filling slipping from his bruised lips. “‘m gonna cum!”

“is that why you came here, chris? you wanted mommy to take care of you?” you cooed, biting his bare skin. with one last stroke and a shaky breath, chris came all over your fingers. the thick, sticky liquid covered your hand and dripped down his legs, staining his grey sweatpants. you brought your hand to your lips, licking all of his release.

you chuckled at him and chris quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to get closer to you. chris hid his face on the crook of your neck, sniffing your scent. “i missed you” he mumbled. “missed you s’much”

your hands went to the back of chris’s head, gently caressing his brown locks. “did you, sweetheart?” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder, silently asking for him to look at you. you touched his chin and chris tilted his head, closing his eyes for the kiss he so long waited for. you pressed your lips together in a tender seal, smiling into the kiss.

“let’s get you clean up, shall we?” you said, noticing the cum stain on his pants. “i’ll wash this one for you” 

you said and he agreed, undressing right away. you smiled at his politeness and couldn't help but glance at him as he removed his sweatshirt, exposing his abdomen — chris noticed you staring at him and attempted to tease you “like what you see, mama?”

you rolled your eyes, reaching for his clothes. his half-pumped cock remained coated in cum leaking down his thigh, ending just before his knee. “go take a shower” you suggested — demanded, actually — tossing everything he had on into the washing machine “are you gonna sleep here, sweetheart?”

“i-i… can i?” chris hesitantly asked. “well, there's no one else around” you checked the living room, reassuring chris that neither your daughter nor your ex-husband would be back any time soon.

chris rushed upstairs and took a shower as you finished his laundry. you took that chance to take off your soaked panties, making yourself bare beneath your nightgown before heading to your bedroom.

stepping out of the shower, chris wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fogged-up mirror with his palm. his reflection stared back at himself, blue orbs with a mix of excitement and apprehension for sleeping with you for the first time. chris knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. you were just perfect. too perfect.

he opened the door and slowly dragged his feet across the hallway, the soft sound of your movements in the bedroom guiding his steps. through the door gap, chris caught a glimpse of you seated at the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing patterns on the mattress.

“done already?” you asked, voice low and tender. chris nodded as he sat by your side and leaned his back down the bed, holding his weight with both elbows.

for a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. in a sudden rush of courage, you got closer to him, brushing your lips against his, taking it nice and slow.

chris immediately melted under your touch. his large hand went to the back of your head, softly pulling your hair as you moved to his lap, your curvy thighs practically hugging him.

he gasped with the sudden move, even though he had touched you and you had touched him — you never went all the way. chris was a virgin after all, and you had lost your innocence decades ago. you chuckled at him “it's okay, prince” you whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. “we don't have to do anything you don't want to”

and that's why he loved you. you were so understanding, so compreensive and gave him the reassurance he needed “no! i w-want it!” chris said, a bit of desperation on his tone, the fear of losing you somehow taking over his already fuzzy mind.

“‘m jus scared i'm not... not gonna be good” he admitted, gaze flickering between your chest — right in front of him — and the ceiling. “g-gonna mess up” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against your breasts.

“that's totally okay” you smiled gently, ruffling his hair before playfully biting his neck, pulling his skin with ur teeth. “and besides, you already know how to make me feel good” you purred like a kitten on his ear, your long, red nails scratching a line down his torso.

“you're such a tease, mama” chris whispered back, placing his palms on your ass, pulling the silk nightgown upwards and revealing your bare flesh, making you moan as he groped your lower body.

with a light push, chris had fallen against the mattress. you crawled back to your previous spot, resting your back against the countless pillows that adorned the bed. chris quickly made his way to you — he was used to sitting on your lap — but you were smarter and, obviously, more experienced.

you stopped him by placing both palms against his chest. receiving a pout in response, your skilled fingers moved to the towel loosely wrapped around his hips, finally pulling the cloth and revealing his hardened cock.

you took a moment to admire the scene in front of you: chris, freshly showered, his hair dripping small droplets of water down his shoulders, his lips slightly parted, a string of saliva connecting both parts, his chest quickly rising and falling and his dick unashamedly leaking.

you had been wet from the moment he showed at your door. by now, your pussy was pratically begging for chris. you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and sealing your lips on a desperate kiss. chris audibly gasped when he pressed his cock onto your pussy, the new feeling taking over him. he started to drag his swollen lenght against your open cunt, not really sure of what he was doing, but it felt so good.

“whenever you're ready, prince” you breathed out as you enjoyed the feeling of having your folds explored after so long. chris savored that for a bit longer before positioning himself and moving his hips forward.

nothing.

he tried again. it was his first time and it was okay to make mistakes — that's what you told him. chris snorted, a frustrated sigh coming from him. one last try.

nothing, again.

you tried so hard to keep your composure. poor little thing, chris had no idea of what was going on. “w-why is it so hard?” he complained, more to himself than to you. his failed attempts were making him restless and sweaty, “mama” chris called, displaying puppy eyes and the biggest pout. “i c-can't get in...”

he was gonna cry. he was so vulnerable and upset at the same time. you ran your fingers through his hair “hey, hey, look at me” you shushed him, cupping his cheeks. “didn't i tell this could happen, baby? there's no reason to embarassed”

“c'mere” you called, patting the spot next to you on the mattress. “what if mama goes on top, huh? wanna try it that way?” you asked chris with your usual gentle, warm tone. he nodded eagerly, tears beggining to form in the corners of his eyes.

you changed positions, chris had his back resting against the headboard as you sat on his lap. “can you be a big boy and do a big favor for mommy?” he nodded once again, gripping at your hips with both hands. “stay still, alright baby? gonna sit down on you” you warned as you placed your folds against his flushed tip, gradually lowering yourself on his shaft.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck” chris cried at the overwhelming sensation. “mama! s-shit!”

a soft sigh escaped your lips as you surrendered to the moment, relaxing with chris underneath you. “nhng, so big” you whined, adjusting yourself on his cock. you were used to that feeling, being filled up by a huge cock and having men at your feet. but this time was different. it felt so raw, so genuine, so real with chris.

chris threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. his moans got louder as you fastened your pace, soon bouncing on his dick. he was making no effort at all, being a pillow prince and simply letting you do whatever you wanted.

more than having his veins pumping inside you, the thought of being his first woman, of taking away his last bit of innocence, of completely corrupting him helped you get closer to the edge.

“mommy, i can't hold it! 'm gonna cum!” chris whined, panting heavily. “cum with me, my good boy” you gave him permission, but the praise was all he needed. chris trembled and jerked his body forward, the instensity of his orgasm being almost too much for him to handle.

his whimpers and uncoordinated movements ts along with the spurts of warm cum filling your insides made you reach your own climax, your juices mixed with chris's release oozing from your pussy and coating his cock.

“gonna pull out, okay?” you told him, preparing to remove yourself from his dick. “no!” chris prosteted. you furrowed your eyebrows, more curious than mad. “c-can i... can i stay inside? please? it took me so long to get in”, he confessed and you couldn't hold back anymore, a giggle escaping from your lips.

you might have taken his virginity, but deep down, chris would always be your little boy.

♡⊹𑄽୧

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[hcneymooners]

⋆ our bodies, two wounds of love.

bodyguard!sevika x f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: as the youngest daughter of a highly famous businessman, you're not at all what sevika is expecting upon receiving her assignment.

cw: modern setting, soft!sevika, reader is sugar sweet and slightly shy, reader has long hair, obsessive behavior, dubious consent, as in reader wakes sevi up properly like the eater she is but sevi consents when she wakes up, somnophilia, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, implied/referenced sex, via toys, implied strapping as god intended, overstimulation, impact play, it's pussy slapping, nipple play, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, dom/sub undertones, minor violence, reader speaks german in this for no other reason than i've been watching the empress., soft dom!sevika, love confessions, near-death experiences, non-sexual intimacy, age difference, older woman/younger woman, mommy issues, implied lmfao, makeup sex, arguing, resolved sexual tension, masturbation in bathroom, accidental voyeurism notes: this is set to american by lana del rey. listen here. this is more emotionally heavy, but definitely my favorite. does this plot barely make sense? yes. but is the reward worth it? yes. this is a repost.

out of all her clients, you were the easiest.

sevika shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, given the research she’d conducted. you were the youngest of four daughters, and the public fed off your penchant for privacy. finding someone like you in her line of work was a rarity: no scandals to cover up, no carefully curated drama for the tabloids. your reputation preceded you—sweet, quiet, and often tired. a homebody, mel had said with an almost indulgent smirk when sevika was handed the assignment.

“you’re lucky,” she added. “the others are a handful.”

sevika didn’t believe in luck.

the flat where she first met you was a monument to your family’s wealth. still it was tasteful—ornate without being garish, quiet grandeur woven into every polished surface. it was the kind of space that swallowed sound and softened the world's edges.

your apartment was beautiful in a way that felt intentional but not performative. soft cream and powder blue walls were traced with delicate vines and florals, the details long faded. it wasn’t pristine—scuffs on the wooden floor and fingerprints smudged onto the low, sculptural table in the center—but it was lived-in, loved in a way that gave the space its warmth.

the table itself was an anchor—organic and raw, its uneven edges smoothed by time, surrounded by cushions in muted grays and pale pinks that had lost some of their color to the steady heat of the sun. a shelf of books stretched to the ceiling, its rows crowded with novels and photography volumes, with stacks of loose papers and half-burnt cigarettes scattered between them. the window beside it was cracked open just enough to let in the sound of rustling leaves, the faint scent of rain-soaked greenery curling through the room like an invisible flatmate.

golden lamps shaped like oversized fans stood at either end of the space, their light pooling onto the woven rug beneath. it cast the room in a kind of half-glow—soft, forgiving—blurring the edges of things just enough to make them feel closer. there was something fragile about how it all fit together like it had been arranged for someone who might leave it behind at any moment.

and yet, it felt distinctly like you. the powdered jasmine in the air, the book splayed open on the armchair, the small dish of rings by the window—it was a home that asked nothing of you but to exist in it. sevika’s stormy gaze caught on an abandoned note on the window sill, the script delicate and curling.

cochem, it read. i miss you. i want to come back to you. i want to disappear inside of you and have you love me again. i want to get lost in the german morning. no one will ever know me, and i’ll be happy, less unfulfilled.

she fingered the edges of the paper, sun-bleached and flaking. then she began to walk again, navigating to what looked like the open door of your study.

you were waiting for her inside, perched in an armchair too big for your frame, as if the room had been designed to diminish you. at first glance, you looked as delicate as the furniture you sat on, barefaced and bathed in soft afternoon light that filtered through sheer curtains. it was the kind of light that made everything look fragile and translucent.

you wore an ivory blouse, thin and shimmering with embroidery that seemed to grow out of the fabric like frost patterns on glass. the neckline skimmed your collarbones, modest but deliberate, while the sleeves flared past your wrists, draping like petals. the cinched waist and pale drawstrings might have belonged to someone dressing for comfort, but on you, it was something else entirely—careless elegance.

the sweatpants should have broken the illusion. they didn’t. instead, they made you seem more unreachable, more unstudied. as if you’d wandered into this world from somewhere else—someplace softer—and were still too young to realize you didn’t belong.

sevika lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than she meant to, her presence large enough to make the room feel smaller. she expected you to bristle at the intrusion, to draw yourself up with the same cool hauteur that so often marked women of your standing. but you didn’t.

you looked up at her, eyes wide and unguarded, and smiled.

“hello,” you said. your voice was so soft, as though you feared disturbing her.

sevika’s eyes swept over you, cataloging every detail: the way your hair—long and heavy—spilled over your shoulders, catching the faint streaks of the incoming light; the way your blouse seemed to ripple as you moved, fabric clinging like a whisper to your skin.

“i’m sevika,” she said finally, voice low and steady. “your father hired my team's services to protect your family. i’ll be your bodyguard.”

you nodded and rose from the chair, the movement unhurried and deliberate. you smoothed your palms over the sides of your sweatpants—grey, nondescript, somehow lovely in the context of you—and stepped closer. you smelled faintly of something soft and fleeting: fresh linen, maybe, or soap.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand, sincerity tucked neatly into every word.

sevika didn’t take it right away. there was something strange about you—something that tugged at her instincts and told her to look closer. your face was open, unguarded, but there was a sadness there, too, stitched into the curve of your mouth, in the way your lashes fell low. she watched the way you stood there, chin lifted just enough to suggest poise but not pride, eyes wide and unguarded as they searched hers for something she wasn’t used to giving.

trust.

and for the first time in a long while, sevika found herself unsure of what to do. you weren’t like the others, all obvious disdain and high expectations. nothing was demanding about you—nothing calculated or sharp. just the soft curve of your mouth, the quiet pull of your gaze, and a kindness she didn’t quite know how to meet.

she clasped your hand firmly but briefly, clearing her throat as she stepped back.

“we should go over security protocol,” she said gruffly, falling back into professionalism as a defense.

you only nodded, that same soft smile still lingering. “of course. whatever you need.”

whatever you need.

sevika didn’t believe in luck, but standing there, looking down at you—your long lashes fluttering as you turned your gaze away, the afternoon light casting faint shadows through the sheer sleeves of your blouse—she wondered, for just a second, if this was as close to it as she would ever get.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

it took three years for both of you to understand that your relationship had outgrown the typical bounds of client and employee. yes, intimacy was inevitable given the circumstances, but even a stranger would’ve seen something uncanny about how you and sevika were… connected, even for a bodyguard.

love affairs always look different to those inside them. you thought nothing of how deeply you needed her, how fondness for her had quietly rooted itself in you. sevika risked her body—her life—to keep you from harm, and it felt natural to bond, to grow into one another. time spent apart became more agonizing only relieved by the hours you were together, yet you ignored the weight of it.

your sisters often spoke of it, though only behind closed doors. you rarely engaged in their chatter. you had always been this way: dreamy, untethered, with a mind like mist and the heart of a prey animal. lame, your mother had called you, her voice sharp with disappointment. sickly, she added, as if naming your frailty might cure it. over time, it became easier to withdraw, to wrap yourself in silence, and let the world chatter on without you.

but with sevika, life required less effort. you rediscovered a tenderness for the act of living in her presence. she was patient, grounding. she found you tolerable even at your worst, and for that, you adored her. no one else had made you feel this way—not men, not women.

while you preferred women, you had dabbled with men, more out of curiosity than desire. it felt clinical, an attempt to decode them like puzzles, perhaps to better understand why you and your father clashed. women, on the other hand, unraveled you.

the realization of your love came in two parts. the first arrived in the languid quiet of a holiday evening at your family’s upstate estate.

you had overexerted yourself in a lagree class, and sevika, ever watchful, had drawn you a warm bath. you watched her through the crack of the bathroom door, your gaze catching on the soft swell of her hips, the worn strength in her movements as she stretched after finishing readying the bed for sleeping. you often shared when traveling. she sat on the edge of it, her familiar perch, closest to the door. she always did this.

it was the smallest things about her that undid you: the way her hair slipped loose from its strict ponytail, the gentle sway of the gold chain brushing against her collarbones. you’d bought her that chain during a weekend in stockholm. now, the sight of it filled you with a sudden, vicious envy. you wanted to be that close to her—always.

the need consumed you. your body buzzed with an unnamed energy, teetering on the edge of itself. you wanted to crawl out of your skin and into hers, to dissolve completely against her warmth. you wanted her blood to run through your veins, her marrow to fuse with yours. your desire was feral, deranged, trembling like a dying pathetic thing.

without thinking, your hand slipped between your thighs. the thought of her—the sharpness of her profile, the tender press of her hands on your waist at the farmer’s market earlier—burned in your mind. you focused on the ridge of her nose, her beautiful nose. everything about her pleased you.

your fingertips pressed harder into the rosy pearl of your clit, and with a wounded cry, you came undone, trembling, your gaze locked on her through the crack in the door.

as if summoned by your thoughts, sevika lifted her head and met your eyes. her stern gaze pinned you, and you sank beneath the water with sudden embarrassment, your skin flush with heat.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the next morning, your pleasure still lingered via a morning glow on your skin. you woke to find sevika beside you, her strong shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of her sleep. you lifted a hand and stroked her brow, cooing softly as she murmured from somewhere deep within her sleep.

she, you thought, is every woman i’ve ever wanted.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

the second realization came during an attempt to kill you.

you were the chosen target—a calculated decision. your public image, carefully nurtured by those who sought to use you, made your death a tragedy worth orchestrating. the explosive had been hidden cleverly in the heart of your favorite restaurant, the one you frequented for its thick slices of fresh bread and macadamia milk.

when it detonated, your world fractured. your vision blurred, your ears rang, and blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. the floor rose to meet you, the lacquered wood pressing cold against your cheek. the world went in and out like the weak signal of a radio. someone was screaming—it might have been your mother, though you doubted she cared enough to wail like that.

through the haze, a hand cupped your jaw, firm but careful, and your head was turned until your eyes locked on sevika’s. her gray gaze steadied you, cutting through the chaos. you raised a hand, your french manicured tips trailing lightly against her cheek. one of them, you noticed, was broken.

“[name]. [name], look at me. don’t take your eyes off me.”

���vika,” you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer. for the first time, you saw fear flicker across her face.

“it’s me,” she said softly. “you’re going to be fine, but i need to get you up. i need to get you out of here.”

you didn’t want to move. here, cradled in her hands, was where you wanted to stay.

“i can hold you, princess,” she murmured, her voice impossibly tender. “if that’s what you want. but i have to move you first. deep breath, okay? here we go.”

she lifted you as though you weighed nothing, her strength unyielding. you clung to her, your broken nails digging into her skin as she carried you through the wreckage. bodies lay strewn across the floor, and your heart broke when you recognized the familiar face of a favorite server.

“it’s okay,” sevika said, her voice a steady anchor. “look at me. just keep looking at me.”

and you did. your gaze drifted to the soft curve of her throat; your face tilted toward her as though she were the sun.

when she laid you on the stretcher, a terrible fear seized you. you reached for her, desperation clawing at your chest.

“stay with me. bitte. bitte, ich flehe dich an.”

sevika froze. if it had been anyone else, she might have refused and headed back to assess the security breach. but it wasn’t anyone else. it was you.

“i’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she promised, her hand pressing firmly to your stomach. “right behind you. just in that car.”

“danke, vika,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du.”

even as the ambulance doors closed, your eyes never left her. you focused on the faint hum of her engine trailing behind you, the sound steady against the fevered rush of your heart.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

sevika was unforgiving after that, and you selfishly enjoyed the over-attention.

she stole you away, back to your flat, and hovered. always within reach, always watching, her presence as constant as the air you breathed. you hated it. you loved it.

she insisted on being in the room while you bathed, while you ate, while you tried to pretend your body wasn’t trembling from the aftershocks of the explosion. the weight of her gaze pressed into your skin like a second layer. she dressed your wounds with quiet efficiency, her fingers steady but firm, and even when you flinched, she refused to soften her touch.

“you should’ve told me this one was hurting,” she murmured one evening, crouched at your side with a damp cloth in hand. her voice was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of something wounded beneath it—something that hadn’t healed properly since the restaurant.

“it’s fine,” you said, looking anywhere but at her.

“it’s not fine,” she snapped, gripping your wrist a little too tightly before loosening her hold. “you don’t tell me when you’re in pain. you don’t—” she stopped herself, shaking her head as if to clear it.

her jaw worked, muscles tight, and you stared at the curve of her throat as she leaned over you, wiping dried blood away with the kind of precision that only made your chest ache.

“you’re smothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than her, but her head snapped up like you’d struck her.

“you almost died,” she bit out, and the words made you flinch harder than her grip.

“but i didn’t,” you countered, hating the way your voice trembled.

you could be such a child. it crippled you, your desire to please her, to be less burdensome. she’d kill you if she knew what you were thinking. thank god it was your secret.

sevika’s lips parted, but no words came. just that unfaltering, infuriating look—one that said she knew better, that she always knew better, and that you knew this to be true. you raised a finger, traced the glistening edges of her teeth. she kept her mouth open; she never bit down.

and then one evening, you decided you’d had enough.

“i’m going out,” you said, pulling a thick coat of fur—vintage—over your shoulders.

sevika, seated in the chair by the window, didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. “no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am,” you replied, voice clipped.

her eyes flicked up to meet yours, the air thickening.

“why would i agree to that?” she asked, standing slowly, her full height suddenly overwhelming in the small space. “why would i let you walk out of here after i almost lost you last time?”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“let me? you’re not my keeper, vika.”

“really?” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “should we do another read of my contact? i’m the person who pulled you out of the rubble. i’m the person who’s been keeping you alive, no thanks to your recklessness.”

“recklessness?” you snapped, whirling to face her fully. “if you’ve learned anything these past years, it is that i am rarely reckless. you promised me. you said you wouldn't be another dictator. you know what my life’s been like. i am allowed to have a life outside of this, outside of what has happened to me.”

her nostrils flared, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“you think i’m doing this for me?” she asked, her voice rough, uneven. “you think i like this?”

“yes,” you spat, the frustration spilling out of you in an unstoppable wave. “this is the most excitement i’ve given you. you must think i’m so fucking boring all of the time. so, yes, i think you’re enjoying it. it makes you feel important. ”

something in her cracked. she closed the distance between you in two steps, her hand shooting out to grip your chin, tilting your face up to hers.

“i'm enjoying this?” she growled, her breath hot against your skin. “watching you get hurt? wondering if this time i’ll be too late? don’t mistake my care for control.”

her grip softened, her thumb brushing your jaw, and suddenly, the room felt unbearably small. you could see the pulse in her throat, the heat in her gaze as her eyes searched yours.

“sevika,” you said. your self-righteousness had passed, and you were so deeply ashamed. “vika, that was unfair. i’m sorry. forgive me.”

her hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid warmth of her body against yours. her breath was shallow, her jaw tight, but her eyes—god, her eyes. they burned with something that made your knees weak.

“bitte,” you whispered.

“i’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling, “to keep you safe. to keep myself from—”

she cut herself off, her gaze flicking to your lips. and before you could say anything, before you could breathe, her mouth was on yours.

the kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation, her hand tightening on your waist as if she was afraid you might disappear. you gasped against her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, her neck, her hair. but just as quickly as it began, it ended. she pulled back, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and stormy.

“don’t push me like that again,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

and then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you alone with the echo of her touch.

you crumpled like a paper doll and began to sob. outside, sevika, having turned back, pressed her forehead against the wall. absent-mindedly, the fingers of her prosthetic twitched and aborted their motions, jerking against the door as if fighting to feel you there.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

you needed to repay her for your abhorrent behavior.

you tried through what you knew: lavish breakfasts, waking up early to purchase her favorite flowers and sweets. you’d even carefully cleaned and oiled her prosthetic. sevika said nothing, if only not to further provoke your guilt, but you could tell she felt it was unnecessary. she was always too easy on you.

the universe, however, seemed to agree with you, and the opportunity to protect sevika came faster than you ever expected.

it was another attempt, this time at a crowded gala in the heart of the city. you hadn’t wanted to go, but sevika had insisted—you wanted to go out. besides, you need to be seen. send a message. and she had been there, of course, always in the background, a silent shadow at your side.

you saw the glint of the blade before she did.

it was instinct. your body moved before your mind caught up, and suddenly, you were between sevika and the would-be assassin, your arm jerking upward to deflect the strike with the heavy bracelet you wore. the metal screeched against the blade, and a sharp pain radiated up your arm, but you didn’t falter.

with your other hand, you snatched a knife from the cocktail table behind you. it was small but sharp, and you used it without hesitation. you didn’t feel the burn of the blade as it nicked your palm on the thrust; you only felt the sickening resistance of flesh before the assailant crumpled at your feet.

“get down!” sevika’s voice was a thunderclap, her hand gripping your shoulder as she shoved you behind her. she moved with terrifying precision, her body a blur of strength and fury as she assessed the situation in seconds.

the room was instantly bursting with chaos. a flash of silver caught your eye as sevika swung her prosthetic arm, sending one of the other assailants sprawling. blood slicked the floor, and the copper tang of it hung heavy in the air. your ears rang with the cacophony of fists, steel, and slit flesh.

you shouldn’t have done that; you knew this. the headlines would be more than money could hide.

“fuck!” sevika’s voice cut through the din, sharp and furious, as she turned to find you standing there, breathing hard, your hands stained red. “what the hell did you do?”

“i—i had to,” you stammered, your chest heaving. “you didn’t see him—”

she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward the far side of the room where the air was clearer and less stifling. the fight was dwindling; the attackers were now being rounded up by security, but sevika’s fury was just beginning.

“what were you thinking?” she hissed, her voice trembling. “do you have a death wish?”

you ripped your arm from her grasp, your own anger bubbling to the surface.

“i was saving you! or would you rather i let him stab you in the back?”

“i don’t need you to save me!” she snapped, stepping closer, her broad shoulders towering over you.

“maybe i need to,” you shot back, tears pricking at your eyes. “i refuse to just sit here and watch you die for me. i won’t. you can’t ask that of me.”

her expression faltered, the rage in her eyes dimming, replaced by something heavier, something more understanding. she often forgot how young you were.

“princess, it's not—you don’t understand,” she said. “if anything happened to you—”

“you’d what?” you interrupted, your voice wavering as you stared up at her. “fall apart? i wouldn’t be any different, vika. you're far from inconsequential. i could not survive a world without you.”

the silence between you was deafening. her gaze dropped to your trembling hands, still clutching the bloodied knife, and she let out a low, shuddering breath. more security personnel arrived, breaking the stalemate. the room was secured, and sevika took that as her cue to remove you from the premises, dragging you through the back corridors, her hand iron-tight around your wrist.

the moment the door to your shared suite slammed shut, she spun on you. her eyes glistened as she glared at you, her body taut like a bowstring.

“you don’t get it, do you?” she said, stepping closer. “i can’t—” she broke off, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“you can’t what?” you asked, shifting toward her. “vika, tell me.”

her jaw worked, the muscles in her neck tightening as she tried to hold herself together.

“i feel like i’m so close to losing you,” she said finally, her voice low and broken.

the words hit you like a punch to the chest.

“you won’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t be without you in any way. i won’t allow it.”

her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the space between you was so heavy. all you wanted was to smooth the worried line of her forehead, to share water with her, and wipe her clean.

“you can’t promise that,” she said finally.

you watched as she turned from you and slipped into the bathroom to begin getting ready for bed.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

she woke up with your head between her thighs.

sevika might’ve been more pleased about it if it wasn’t in the middle of the night. still, it wasn’t the worst way to come to.

the warmth spidered from her thighs to her hips before coiling tightly in her stomach. her eyes fluttered open, disoriented and struggling to focus. she heard you first: the wet suck of your mouth against her swollen, brown folds. you moaned somewhere deep and hidden in your chest, your hands tightening around the thickness of her thighs even though she was not yet bucking.

it took a while for her to place herself, and then it crashed into her all at once. she gasped and tucked a hand into your hair, which you removed so that you could intertwine your fingers, pressing them away from her head.

you unlatched from her and pressed a soft kiss into her stomach.

“stay still,” you commanded. “please.”

she allowed it.

you worked at her over and over, pushing the back the hood of her clit so you could roll it between your fingers like a rosy pearl. sevika let her pleasure crest until she shuddered into an unearthly orgasm, her legs snapping shut around your head just as a roll of thunder sounded through the early morning.

"couldn’t sleep?" she rasped.

you slowly unfastened her legs and raised your head from where you had been lapping at her, your full mouth glistening with her arousal. sevika sat up fully, legs shifting beneath the butter-yellow comforter, and stared down at you.

you looked back at her with wide eyes like she’d caught you sinning. you. you with your puppy eyes and open mouth. you, with your sweetness, with your eagerness when it came to her. you like a doe on the open road.

"no," you told her. "i couldn’t accept the idea that you hated me."

she sighed and cupped your cheek, thumbing across the plush skin.

"when you do or say something that displeases me, that doesn’t mean i hate you."

"if you’re displeased," you said, your voice thick across the last word, "then it feels the same to me."

with a huff of irritation, she yanked you up and into her lap, guiding you into a bruising kiss.

it wasn’t like the last time. this wasn’t desperation or fear—it was need. pure, unrelenting need. her hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against her, and you gasped into her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair.

she shifted you easily, rolling over so that you fell beneath her. her eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“you drive me insane,” she murmured, her voice rough as her hand trailed down your side.

“good,” you whispered, pulling her back to you.

soon, kissing wasn’t enough. you had hungered for her for so long, and she for you.

wetly, your lips broke apart, and she slid back to survey you. the soft, muted light of the room caught on the intricate lace of your undergarments. the set was exquisite; the bra cupped you perfectly. you saw sevika's jaw tighten, her hands flexing at her sides as though restraining herself from reaching for you.

“you look…” her voice faltered, her control waning. “fuck, princess.”

heat spread across your body, and you felt the lace press a little tighter against your skin as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

sevika leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. her hand rose, hesitant at first, before her fingertips brushed the embroidered lace at your shoulder. she traced the pattern down your arm, her touch light but burning, before resting her palm at your waist.

“you wore this for me?” she murmured, her voice low and dark, as her thumb swept over the sheer fabric, catching on a pebbled nipple.

“who else?” you answered, a tremor in your voice as her hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you up into a soft arch.

she hummed in satisfaction and gently pulled your bra down so that it dipped beneath your tits as they spilled further into view. steadying you with a hand on your stomach, sevika leaned down and coaxed a hard bud into her mouth.

the wet heat of her mouth was akin to a strike of lightning. you moaned as she increased the pressure of her teeth, suckling eagerly at your chest as you pushed desperately into her touch. by instinct, your legs rose to cross behind her hips, forcing her to settle on top of you.

she let go of your nipple with a wet pop and switched to the other, beginning to work her way down your body with a pleased exhale. your panties didn’t even put up a worthy fight. they just slid right down, the fabric bunching around your thighs. the scrap of fabric had barely covered your cunt anyway, your thatch of hair poking through as if to tease her.

she watched your lips gleam and glisten, your pussy drooling with arousal and as deliciously plump as the rest of you. sevika pressed her mouth against it, practically a dog in heat, and relished the way you shivered up against her.

“vika,” you moaned and turned your face to the side in the way you did when you were overcome with embarrassment.

“baby,” she murmured, shifting so that she could force you to look at her. “baby, is this all for me?”

you whined, and sevika smirked, dipping her head down to lick a flat stripe up your dripping cunt.

“vika, fuck,” you cried, and she hummed, hooking a hand around one of your legs to pull it up so that you were further exposed. your clit was swollen and calling out for her.

pulling back, she used her free hand to part your lips so that she could watch the way you clenched around nothing. slick ran steadily down to the crack of your ass, a syrupy stream of desire. carefully, she stroked a metallic finger through your heat, holding you down as she began to rub your clit in tight circles.

“look at that pussy,” she murmured. “can’t believe it’s all mine, princess. thank you. thank you, baby.”

sevika couldn’t help herself and lifted her hand, bringing it down to slap against your cunt. you squealed, and she pressed a kiss to your thigh, delighting in your loss of composure. she considered you beneath her, your body slick and shining with sweat as you writhed. she rained two more strikes across your pussy in quick succession, dropping her head down and sliding her fingers in to let your buck into her open mouth and lolling tongue.

“taste so fucking good, princess,” she purred into you. “that’s it. ride my face, sweet girl. take what you want from me. take what you need.”

you gripped the bed, angling her hips so that you could drag her deeper into the cavern of your cunt. mewling, you trapped her between the link of your legs as you snapped upward and arched, cumming with a high sob.

“oh my god, vika.”

“just me,” she teased.

sevika waited for a couple of seconds before pushing up and rearranging you, sliding your back against her chest. carefully, she pushed your legs back apart and tucked three fingers up into your cunt, building a rhythm until she was thrusting hard enough that the overstimulation made you scream. you curled over yourself, your nails raking down her muscled thighs.

she milked you, patient and unrelenting, until you began to bounce on your own. you rode her hand. hard. slowly, your gummy walls tightened around her, whimpering through the flashes of pain and pleasure before you came again with a silent wail. sevika held you as you shook apart, whispering a stream of steady praises into your ear.

“good girl,” she cooed. “look at how good you are, princess. you needed this, huh? you’ve been begging for it, so desperate to cream all over me. such a good fucking girl.”

you slumped down, whimpering weakly as she pulled away from you. you felt her get up, slipping off the bed and walking somewhere into the darkness of the room. soon, she returned but not alone. you began to come back to yourself, and in doing so, you were able to focus on what she held in your hands.

“vika, that won’t fit.”

in her hand was a navy harness and matching dildo, girthy and ribbed. you tilted your head as she closed in, your hands finding her waist as if by instinct.

“sevika,” you whispered, your voice breaking as her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your throat.

“quiet, baby,” she muttered against your skin, and you sighed softly, the sound catching in your throat as her hands slid lower, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made you shiver. "you know you can take it."

you let out a pathetic, wet cry as she prodded at your puffy cunt, and her face softened. she pulled you closer, peppering your face with soft kisses. there was only her—her heat, her weight, her breath against your skin.

again she watched you, gripping you firmly from beneath your thighs as she nestled the tip of the dildo at the entrance of your pussy.

“princess,” she called to you, and you blinked blearily, clutching at her. “consider this forgiveness.”

it was all you ever wanted.

© hcneymooners.

translations.   bitte — please. bitte, ich flehe dich an — please i beg of you. danke — thank you. du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du. — you are what i need. only you.

[ghost-of-kurdt-haunts-my-room]

The first person who ever told me I was autistic was a trans woman, a few years older than i was, at a holiday party my folks had dragged me to back in 10th grade. We were friends, then, and I'd seen her plenty of times at the local poetry reading and a dozen or so punk shows. This woman had offered to fight skinheads twice her weight without a hint of hyperbole. She brought us water once at a show that was a 30 minute walk from the nearest anything, just because the venue wasn't selling and she didn't want my friends, and mostly me, dehydrated.

So she pulls me into this sideroom and says hey, you're autistic. You should talk to a doctor or your therapist. Do it behind your parents' backs if you need to, but this loneliness and hurt you describe to me is autism. you're okay. you're not a freak.

I saw her petting another transfem's tummy and i felt my own stomach turn over with longing. This woman was one of my first crushes, one of the only trans women i knew personally. It seemed like she had this aura that brought sisters towards her, and in a time when i was in constant turmoil over community and who did or didn't understand me, i clung to her like glue.

That night, my parents told me she pulled me aside because she wanted to molest me. They told me i couldn't trust her, and that i shouldn't speak with her anymore. I believed them, then. I still hate myself for that, but I was 15 and still pretty much believed everything my parents told me without question. it wouldn't be until they said they always knew my brother and i autistic that id start calling their bullshit where i see it.

She was unhealthy, suffering from severe depression, drinking a lot, and isolated from her family. she'd just moved here recently. She died in a drunk driving accident six months ago.

Sometimes i can't believe she's been dead for half a year. sometimes i can't believe she's dead at all. She always felt like so much, so much person, so much love, so much rage. She was a protector in a community that chewed her up for being queer in an "uncomfortable" way. i truly believe the reason she's struggled so much, the reason she started drinking again after being sober for those two months, was because people were fucking nasty to her. said horrible things behind her back. like saying she was a child molester.

I think about Myst a lot. I miss her a lot.

[insomniadreamzz]

Hiiiii! Could you write G!P councilor Sevika x fem reader? Where Sevika comes home to her wife after a council meeting and she is frustrated so reader offers to help her with it and Sevika has her way with reader? Resulting in her getting pregnant.

Thank youuuuu xoxo

Alrightyyy!~ Another G!P Fic

This time Sevika x Fem!Reader

Mentions of G!P, pregnancy, smut

———

You are my world

Sevika just arrived home after the council meeting, not looking very amused as she stomped into the kitchen, making herself a drink and heading to the living room, sitting down on the sofa before taking a sip from her drink and putting the glass down, letting out a annoyed groan.

You heard her being finally home again as you just got out the shower, feeling so happy to see your wife being back home again. „Hey! You’re finally back.“ You cheered happily, walking towards her but her expression made you frown as you sat beside her. „Is something wrong?“ You asked with a tilted head, making her sigh before she answered. „Being a Zauntie member in the council is just frustrating. They don’t really trust me, I get weird looks and-…ugh.“ Sevika groaned, rubbing her face with her hand, you hated seeing her frustrated like that.

„Sevika…give them time. You are the most loyal and kind Zauntie I ever met. You have a heart of gold and they will notice it sooner or later.“ You tried to calm her down, your hand gently caressing her muscular arm, finally she looked at you with a more softer expression and a little smile. „I just know why I made you my wife…you are just so good to me. You don’t know how much you mean to me.“ Sevika responded and you smile brightly before leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. The kiss got returned by her, ending up into a deep and passionate kiss, she really loved you and you loved her.

You soon pull back, both of you catching your breath before you got an idea to make her relax. „You know I do have a idea to get your frustration off…if you like to.“ You said with a teasing voice and Sevika got the message quickly, how could she deny you? She simply couldn’t. „Oh baby I would love that.“ She said with the same lustful voice before picking you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

You moaned softly as Sevika put kisses on your neck, you laying underneath her, being fully exposed to her, you just loved how much affection she shows you, loving and cherishing every inch of your body as she worked her way down to your chest, leaving marks all over your chest and neck so everyone knows you belong to her. She was also fully exposed, her cock rubbing against your wet folds. Your hands are placed on her strong shoulders, whining softly when she started to play with your nipples, arching your back. „Ughh…stop teasing…“ You mumble and she looked up at you with a lustful gaze. „Impatient?“

You just let out a little grunt in response. „Fine fine. I won‘t let my wife wait for longer, after all I am still frustrated and I want to get it all off of me.“ She leaned up as she adjusted herself between your legs, your gaze fixed on her beautiful strong body, your hand moving down along her muscles on her stomach before you let out a moan once she slid inside of you.

„Fuck!…“ You moan out, hands trying to find something to hold onto and they found your pillow, grabbing it tightly as you let Sevika thrust into you. Her size was just perfect for you, filling you completely up and stretching you so good, the first thrusts making you already go crazy. When her hands held your hips you felt a shiver go down your spine because of the feeling of her metal hand on your soft and warm skin. You bit on your lip, trying to hold back your moans.

„Oh no I want to hear those. Don’t you dare holding back.“ She grunted, thrusting harder inside of you and with every thrust, feeling her rubbing your insides and hitting your sweet spot, you moaned louder. „A-Ah! Yes! Yes right there!“ You moaned out, not feeling embarrassed anymore about your lewd moans as the pleasure was taking over, your legs squeezing around Sevika’s hips.

„Damn…that’s right. Give me those sweet sounds of yours.“ Now she was moaning too at the good feeling, filling up the room with lewd sounds of your moaning, whining and the sounds of yours bodies clapping together. You felt close but you didn’t even think about wanting her to stop and pull out like usually.

„C-cum inside me. Please do.“ You begged her and that made Sevika‘s expression softer. „You sure??“ She asked in between her gasps and moans and you nod at her. „Yes. Yes please do. I want it. I want it with you.“ You whined, feeling your orgasm getting closer and your words made her feel even more aroused, Sevika‘s hips now moving almost automatically as she literally rammed her cock inside of you. Making you moan even more lewdly and making you roll your eyes back as you felt a wave of electric shocks through your body, legs shaking as they clenched around her hips. The feeling of your pussy clenching around her cock made her reach her orgasm too, making Sevika moan out and groan as she granted your wish, not pulling out as she came inside of you, filling you with her cum. „Oh fuck! I am cumming“ She moaned out, cock twitching inside of you as she let it all go inside of you, making you feel all warm. She kept on thrusting slowly until she pulled out, watching a little bit of cum getting out of you, she really filled you up with a lot of cum.

After both of you reached your orgasms and calmed down, Sevika laying beside you in bed as she caressed your hair with her human hand. Slowly realising what you just did. „We…are going to be parents.“ She said with a soft whisper and you moved your gaze up to look into your wife’s eyes with a soft and happy eyes. „Yes. That’s all I want. Because you are my world.“ She smiles and you could see her eyes being teary, you didn’t see her being emotional that often but you loved it every time you saw her being soft with you and before she could say anything, she kissed you deeply and passionately. Sometimes actions are more than words and you both were happy to become parents.

[yuwuta]

f2l with katsuki but there’s nobody who rides harder for you two being a couple than izuku and not even in a weird pining threeway kind of way. just genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, he’s always believed you two should be together. he’s always watched you two growing up, he’s always chased after you two, he’s always seen the way you both lean into each other and still find space to pull him up too. he thinks you and katsuki deserve each other, he knows you two are meant for each other. it’s excruciating for izuku to watch you two not realize it for so long, heartbreaking to watch kacchan figure it out but not say anything, and the worst pain of all is watching you date other people because you’re too stubborn to realize your soulmate is has been right next to you your entire life. it’s exhausting, and izuku is bitter about it.

and petty. whenever you mention you have a date, his response is always “is it with kacchan?” “huh? no, it’s—” “that’s too bad then.” he pretends not to remember any of your boyfriends’ names and somewhere along the way he just stops pretending and really doesn’t care to learn them. he’s sweet and all smiles with everyone else, but the second someone other than katsuki is interested in you, there’s a straight frown on his lips. he’s out for drinks with katsuki and he’s noticed some guys eyeing him from across the restaurant, so izuku goes to greet them while katsuki is in the bathroom, all bright smiles and hero facade beaming as he signs the shorter one’s baseball cap with a sigh, “kacchan is handsome, right? you should see his girl, she’s stunning too,” capping the sharpie and any potential plans for flirting for the evening. he’s spent many nights gossiping with mitsuki and inko about you two, crying about how seeing you two dating other people is harder than any other mission he’s ever been sent on.

sometimes izuku just wants to shove the two of you in a locker and keep you in there until you decide to be together. he spends so much time with his chin in his palm, sighing with such yearning for a relationship that isn’t even his own. his eyes are soft right now, watching you and katsuki in the communal kitchen of the agency. there’s a slight glare shining through the glass walls, but he can see your smiles bright as day. you lean with your back to the counter, stirring your tea mindlessly as katsuki faces you, arms crossed but posture relaxed, no doubt saying something to rile you up judging by the slick grin on his face. you’re much shorter than him, but izuku remembers the days when you were taller than both of them back in second grade; he thinks the height difference panned out nicely. kacchan could lean down and kiss you right now, izuku wishes he would. a soft smile paints izuku’s face—they only keep that tea in the cabinets for the days you decide to visit, and katsuki only teases to hear your sharp tongue counter him. he must be in a particularly good mood today—or maybe, he’s happy because you’ve visited—judging by the way he throws his head back with a hearty cackle after you’ve said something to him. that’s good, hopefully you’ll keep his spirits up when they leave for patrol later. izuku gets so caught up in his daydreaming that he’s startled when there’s a knocking on the glass, and now you’re next to it smiling at his startled face and waving to him. he looks at you, then back to katsuki, who’s shadowed you to the glass wall, hovering protectively like he always has. izuku shakes his head in disbelief, but waves back. he finds the glass fitting, a window he’s looking into. he just hopes the scene changes to something more romantic sooner rather than later.