thehoneybeestings

[thehoneybeestings]

how i be looking at an x reader fic when the author describes the reader as frail, petite, and with blue orbs

[thehoneybeestings]

Sevika works hard for you and Zaun. Sometimes, though, she needs a reminder to take better care of herself.

cw: femme!reader, fluff, 10% hurt 90% comfort

------

You left work early with an extra, flighty bounce in your step. The normally congested streets of the Lanes weren't as crowded this early afternoon and you thanked Janna for it. No street vendors yelled their latest sales. No massive lines at the food stalls. Great for you as you grabbed a hearty lunch made perfect for a quick delivery.

The Last Drop closed at four in the morning as per usual, so you slipped through the back entrance and down the hall to front of house. The cleanup crew polished tables and mopped the floor while a small group of Silco's goons lounged around out of their way. Ran waved at you from the opposite corner of the bar, and you greeted them back. Gustove, tattooed mountain of a man that he was, leaned against the staircase. It took him longer than he'd admit to notice your presence, but once he did, his small, dark eyes focused on the bag in your hand.

"Toll for the staircase?" he rumbled.

"It can be if that makes you a troll. Or you could just move and go fuck yourself."

"Hehe. Startin' to see why you two like each other. Boss was upstairs talkin' to Big Boss. She might be in her office now, though."

You thanked him and ascended the staircase. Silco's office was still lit, but the door was shut. No voices crept past so you assumed he was alone. Sevika's office was at the end of the short hall. Before you knocked, you pressed your ear to the door.

A trademark string of sailor's curses breached the barrier. Then a light thud. And another salvo of swears followed by a loud huff. She was upset. Then again, when wasn't she after dealing with Silco's stringent demands? What would it be this time? Deal gone wrong? Incorrect shipment manifest? Fresh meat out of line?

You rapped on the door and the response was immediate.

"If it's not important, shove it up your ass and fuck off!"

You croaked out your best impression of a mindless baritone goon, attempting horribly to keep a laugh at bay. "Sorry, boss, I'll come back later."

"What the—baby, that you?" She sighed. "Come in. Please."

You laughed and entered Sevika's office, locking the door behind you.

Sevika's cherry desk was nearly empty, neater and tidier than usual. You expected an unruly pile of shipping manifests dating back months strewn about and stained with coffee, whiskey, or cigar ashes. But no, it was just her ash tray, writing utensils, and a few sheets of paper cradled in her bronze hand.

Sevika relaxed back in her chair, legs spread wide. Her frown lines softened as you perched on the corner of her desk closest to her and set the bag in front of her.

Her brow raised. "You brought me food?"

"Well... A little birdy stopped by and told me you might be stuck here for a while." You smiled at the exasperated "fucking Ran" that slipped out of her mouth. "And you're not exactly the best at stepping away sometimes. Didn't want you to go hungry."

Sevika set the papers down and beckoned you forward. You accepted, and she pulled you on to her lap to wrap thick arms around you. When you settled your head at her chest, she hugged you closer and hummed. "And it smells like my favorite, too..."

"One of your favorites. You do have a lot of favorites, Vika."

You gazed at her, and she flashed you a quick and vulnerable smile, one that exposed the shallow gap between her front teeth that you fell in love with. In seconds, you closed the distance, but Sevika beat you to the kiss—a slow and sensual claiming of your lips that tasted of longing and love.

You shivered.

She dragged her lips across your cheek and held you there. Held you.

There.

"I don't deserve you," she murmured.

Her words blended together like the shame of uttering them clearly would ruin her stern and stoic reputation. It was nonsense, of course, both the assumed thought and her words.

"Don't say that."

"I mean it."

She inhaled deeply. Hugged you a little tighter. Her jaw shifted against your cheek, a sure sign she had trouble voicing her thoughts. Sevika was never one to mince words, but even that level of confidence wasn't maintainable one hundred percent of the time. Being vulnerable wasn't her forte, and neither was yours pulling that vulnerability out of people. And yet you both made the effort because it was worth it in your eyes.

"You keep... doing these things," she started. "Getting me food or making me breakfast. Reminding me to take breaks. Waking me up when I need to be. I... dunno, I just... I like it. It's just... I'm still getting used to it."

The sincerity in her voice kept you silent. Getting Sevika to open up took months and months of effort, so you wouldn't squander the opportunity to hear her out now, not when she's made so much progress. But everything she mentioned was true. You did cook extra eggs and sausages and toast for her before you left for work. You did graze her scalp to pull her from slumber to start her late work days when you returned from yours. You did remind her to drink water and stretch and get some food in her when she'd forgotten. You did it all and you'd do it a thousand, thousand more times because, well...

"Sev. I do it because I want to. I like doing those things for you. I like taking care of you." You felt her lips widen against your cheek for a split second. "But you take care of me, too, you know? I love when you walk me home from this place and keep me close at your side. Love that you come up with ideas for our dates. Love that you let me rant about my shitty days at work. Love that you... Love that you...let me in..."

Sevika breathed, long and hard. Her lips parted in what you assumed was a rebuttal or protest. You gave her time and eventually she got there.

"Yeah, but it's not the same."

"Says who?"

She grumbled.

"No, you're not getting out of this. Answer me," you chided gently.

"You do a lot for me. A lot. Feels like no matter what I do, it'd never be enough to match."

You pulled away to look at her, take in the beauty of cloudy, gray eyes. Sevika was, by all means, a confident woman—in style, dress, demeanor, and outlook. In that moment, in that pocket of space existing between you two, shielded from the outside world, it wavered.

And it hurt to look at.

"Sevika." You didn't miss the fleeting glance away when you used her full name. "It's not a competition, my sweet bear. Sure, there are some days where I feel like I'm not doing enough to help. But you do so much. Not just for me but for Zaun too."

Sevika scoffed bitterly. "I'm not as good as you think I am."

"Don't change the subject." You cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss to match her previous one. She softened. "Everything you do means the world to me. I mean that. Okay?"

She sighed.

"Sev..."

Her jaw clenched, and she blinked in rapid succession. A flash of weakness and vulnerability shone before your eyes, shadowed by insecurity. Zaun was a rough place where the dogs who exposed their bellies ran the risk of being gutted. With that and her...history, it made logical sense to guard her feelings. While Sevika hated expressing them, you found her all the more endearing when she did open up.

"Yeah... Yeah. Okay."

"Okay?" you reaffirmed.

Whatever tension existed between you melted and you were both left stripped naked and bare for the other to embrace. To consume. To love. Your foreheads grazed for a moment. Burned with the intensity of the mid-day sun. Because that's what you were to the other. The biggest and brightest star in the sky—warmth and passion and pain and love, all wrapped up in an imperfect ball with a gravitational pull unmatched by anyone else. And neither of you would have traded it for the world.

You kissed Sevika once more, and with one deep breath, she regained her resolve and nodded. Pulled away.

"Come on," you said, leaving Sevika's lap. "Eat. Before you forget and get even grumpier."

She shot you a teasing glance as she pulled the bag of food towards her. Any trace of grump or vulnerability left her entirely as her eyes sparkled at the dish contained within.

Golden rice nearly overflowed the container, complemented by hearty chunks of perfectly cooked mutton. Off to the side was another container that Sevika opened to reveal a light mixture of vegetables, spices, and yogurt. The visual simplicity belied the aromatic and flavorful complexity of the entire dish.

"Mierda, cariño, I haven't had this in months. Extra meat, too? And you got it spicy, didn't you?"

"Just the way you like it."

Sevika pushed her papers to the side and patted her thigh for you to return. "C'mere. Eat some. I'll walk you back home when we're done."

You pursed your lips. "And you say you don't deserve me."

Sevika's face brightened like a chemtech bulb went off in her head. The dots connected and for the first time, it was like she truly understood exactly how much she—and her actions—meant everything and more to you.

------

taglist: @gaudesstuff @archangeldyke-all @abitohoney @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat

@ash-fall7 @the-anonmaton @peanutbutterprincess @thesevi0lentdelights @kylorey25

@thegothicchangeling @slut4sevika @pauphs @jullsii @vellichor-and-flowerpetals

[thehoneybeestings]

😭😭😭 (but it's actually not funny at all i want her so bad.)

you, relaxing on the couch: hey baby, how was work?

sevika, picking you up over her shoulder as she walks towards your bedroom: bad.

you:

[thehoneybeestings]

Just finished sweet as honey, anddddd I gotta say you really put your entire foot in that series and I really loved both parts 🥹 actually gave me some inspiration me to finish some of my own works that has been hard to finish!

Other than that I hope you’re have a good day and both sides of your pillows are cold! ❣️❣️❣️❣️

this ask was *this* close to brining a genuine tear to my eye- i saw that you reblogged with a comment too and i just :,)

your words mean so so much more than you know, i've been in such a rut lately but this has honestly encouraged me so much. i'm so happy to hear that the fic encouraged you, too!!

you'll be happy to hear that there is still a pt. 3 to this fic coming up... i'm happy to tag you if you'd like!

thank you so much again for the kind words; you are so so sweet and i'm so happy to have you here!!!!

[thehoneybeestings]

This is an appreciation post for the fanfic authors who aren’t included on rec lists

For the fanfic authors who don’t get art of their fics

For the fanfic authors who can’t get to 1000/500/100 hits

For the fanfic authors who don’t get comments/reviews

For the fanfic authors who write for small fandoms

For the fanfic authors who write rarepairs or gen fics

For the fanfic authors who get hate for the ships/characters/fandoms they write

For the fanfic authors who write in English despite it not being their first language

For the fanfic authors who don’t write in English

For the fanfic authors who don’t think anyone reads or likes their work

For the fanfic authors who aren’t big name fans

For the fanfic authors who don’t get requests in their inboxes

For the fanfic authors who can’t write stories that are more than a thousand words

For the fanfic authors who only write one ship

For the fanfic authors who are just starting

For the fanfic authors who have been writing fic for years

For the fanfic authors who use fanfic to practice writing

For the fanfic authors who write self-insert fics

For the fanfic authors who write about their OCs

For the fanfic authors who write to vent or cope

For the fanfic authors who are just waiting for their big break

Keep creating, I love you ❤️

[thehoneybeestings]

THIS ONE RIGHT HERE

LET ME RUN INTO THIS LOVE (SEVIKA X READER).

"You what?" "I want you. Badly. Stupidly."

contains: slight nsft content/lots of suggestive content, minors + ageless blogs dni, reader has false nails, sevika calls reader "girl," slight bickering/angst, lots of fluff

credits: idea is from the lovely anon who sent this ask back when I was doing my little activity in celebration of a follower milestone. thank you so so much for the request angel I love it to pieces. title is from the song patient by rache.

divider by: @/ianrkives

"It's not that I don't want to," Sevika groans, fingers pressing into her temple. "It's just—"

"Too much," you lament, the edge of your voice melted into a high-pitched whine. "Too much of a commitment?"

"Hey, stop that," she immediately cuts in, shooting you a narrowed stare. "You know I'm committed to you, okay? I wouldn't be doing this otherwise."

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, propping yourself onto your elbow and peering down at her with a glare.

You know it's probably not fair to be so back and forth in your emotions with her, swinging like pendulum, your mind never dipped into one place for more than a few seconds before emerging out in a flurry of droplets. But, you can't help it. This is your first kiss. And there's nothing wrong with that, you know there isn't — after all, if you were a stranger witnessing someone else in this predicament, you'd be filled with slow back rubs and soft assurances that all is okay. But, it weighs on your mind that you're sharing this with Sevika, who, as any lesbian within a thirty mile radius is well-aware of, is more than experienced in the area of physical intimacy.

It's not even about how good or bad you'll be at it, but rather what she thinks of the ordeal. You don't want it to be a chore, nor something she proceeds in with a doubtful or obligatory mindset. And with how wary she seems, you can't help but feel that her heart isn't fully in it. At least not in the way yours is.

And you want, you ache, for her heart to be fully submerged into this moment, flooded with the trust and faith you're storing in her. Problem is, it's this act of openness and vulnerability that seems to be gnawing at her the most.

"You know me, okay? I don't get with virgins, there's too much teaching involved. So, me doing this with you actually means something, okay?"

"Well, thanks for deigning this poor virgin with a chance," you huff, your chest aching with the sting of her words. Maybe it should be flattering that she likes you enough to actually take on the role of a teacher, but that's exactly where it stabs you. You don't want her to drape on some kind of tired role with nothing but her feelings for you keeping it intact. You want her to wholeheartedly step into the armor of a lover, ready to take care of you and experience touch with you. After all, she's captured your heart and has squeezed onto it without relent since the moment you two met, milking out more and more affection and passion than you ever thought yourself capable of. For her, you'd happily be the devoted lady who awaits her knight to return home, you'd care for her and mend every wound she's ever borne, physical or otherwise, without even a tremor of hesitation.

She rolls her eyes. "Now you're twisting it. I just avoid that kind of responsibility, alright? It's not that deep."

"But, I want it to be deep!" you cry out, flinging onto your back and curling into yourself, the material of her hoodie folding against your skin. "Like, it's my first kiss. But, you just seem like it's a chore or something."

"It's not, but it's your first kiss. That puts some unnecessary pressure on me, you know. To do it right, to make sure it's good for you."

"As long as you do it earnestly, it will be good for me," you mumble, eyes snapping to her wall, burning in irritation. "And instead, you could just focus on how… special it's going to be."

The word "special" comes out in a half-whimper, the two syllables wounded and soft like a small animal tucking itself protectively at the roots of a tree. And that's how you feel right now. You know how she struggles to profess her emotions, and go beyond actions to showcase her liking of you. But, in moments like these, you can't bear to do the heavy lifting. You need her to be honest too. You need her to allow herself to be more tender.

She heaves a deep sigh, and despite her razor-sharp glare piercing through the side of your head, you will yourself to continue staring at her wall.

"You can stop with the pouting, alright? I'm not saying it won't be… special, or whatever."

You continue looking away, crossing your arms petulantly over your chest. 

She snickers. "Seriously? For someone who literally penned it in for today, you suddenly seem very underwhelmed."

Your jaw clenches, trying not to give into her goading.

"Do you not want to do it anymore, hm? Should we just cut the date shor—"

"See, if you took it seriously, you wouldn't joke," you snap, shuffling into a seated position before pushing yourself to the foot of her bed. You both know you have no intention to actually leave, but well — the point still has to be made.

Immediately, her arm is winding about your waist, and she's tugging you unceremoniously back onto the bed, your entire body flopping like a rag doll. 

You let out a shriek as your head pummels into the pillow, her strong hands on your waist coaxing you onto your back, grey eyes honed in on you, bright and lit from within. 

"I am taking it seriously," she asserts lowly, the husky timbre of her voice making pleasure stream down your spine. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be this nervous about fucking it up for you."

Your stomach spins into knots at her words, said with the firm weight she only reserves for the purest of truths. But, still, there remains an underbelly of hurt, her earlier words, tactless and said in her usual gruff manner, lingering in your mind.

She seems to sense it, her face lowering, hovering above yours. "Talk to me."

Immediately, your thighs press together, skin flaring up under her intense stare. "I— it's just, you could've been nicer. The way you talk about it makes it sound like you're just doing me some favour. I know I'm the exception to your usual rules, yeah, but you're focusing more on things going wrong than on how good it can be. Makes me feel like it's all a drag to you."

Her lips purse together, gaze wandering over your face. After a moment, a sharp breath zaps from her nostrils and she mutters, "Fine. You're right. I was focusing more on my own concerns than on you."

"Yeah," you scoff.

"You're getting the apology and still this stubborn?"

"Technically, you didn't apologize."

The corner of her mouth twitches. "Smart girl."

Her face inches closer to yours, nose brushing your cheek. "Want me to make it up to you?"

Much to your humiliation, your hips immediately buck up.

She laughs softly, nuzzling into you. "Damn, this actually will be fun."

"Sevika," you whisper, eyebrows scrunched in newfound annoyance, clouding away your initial arousal.

Her head tips up, hair hanging in her lovely eyes. She licks her lips thoughtfully.

"You know… You know how much I like you. A lot. I don't mean it in an asshole way when I say I'm making an exception for you. I know it sounds like that, yeah. But, I really just mean that, you know, I—"

"You what?"

"I want you. Badly. Stupidly."

You swallow, the affect of her words almost nauseating. In the most exciting, thrilling, lovesick way, like diving down the steep end of a rollercoaster. "And?"

"'And'? You need more?"

"I mean, do you want to kiss me?"

Her eyes flutter shut, lines embedding their way into her forehead. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I'd want you just as bad even if hand-holding was foreign to you," she deadpans.

The confession ignites a burst of giggles from you. "Even if my palms were all clammy?"

"Gonna be stupid of me to admit, but yeah." Her lips widen into a longer, lazy sort of grin, soft at the edges. Not too revealing. "Think I'd make a hell of a lot of exceptions for you."

"Good," you whisper.

She huffs out an amused puff of air. "'Good.' You're cute."

You squirm at the words, still bashfully basking under her focus.

Her head tilts to the side, voice simmering to a shallow mumble. "Let me kiss you."

Nerves pounce into your stomach, guts seizing and clenching in all kinds of excitement, elation, shyness. Your hand rolls into a fist at your side, nails digging into your palm in order to ground yourself in the moment and not get too lost in the whirlwind of your feelings, the storm of her eyes.

"Okay."

Her eyebrows furrow. "You sure? We've got time."

"No, no," you rush to say, the idea of leaving this date without finally making your fantasies a reality seeming nothing short of complete heartache. "Please. I want it."

She pauses. "I'll miss you being this eager once it's done with," she says with a throaty laugh.

"I'm sure I'll continue to be."

The creases near her eyes soften out, her throat bobbing at she gulps. "Yeah." The word comes out rough, raspy, like sandpaper scraping against a plane of wood. "I'll probably be the same."

"Really? You're excited right now?"

Her fingers, laced with calluses and marks, snake under the edge of your — her — hoodie, skimming the curve of your hip. Goosebumps flutter over your skin and your body writhes from the fire her touch leaves. And they don't leave, even when her warm, steady body presses into you from above, the hard muscles weaving beneath her skin keeping you down, body sinking into the mattress.

"Yeah."

Her breath, warm and moist, fans over your already hot face, sending you steaming. The scent of her musky cologne, just barely hovering in the air, light as a breeze, brushes against your nose. It's delicious, something you want to lick off her skin and have soak into the crevices of your mouth. It's her, it's Sevika. The woman you'd be content to spend years drowning in the knowledge of, swimming deeper and deeper into the ends of discovering who she is, what made her into this fierce woman. This fierce woman whose tough beauty runs past her skin and molds itself into her veins, transforming her into someone whose roughness hits the expiration date as soon as she sees the twist of a mouth, the crumbling of a face when it comes to someone she loves.

Loves. You want so badly to be loved by her.

Right at the final second, she mutters, "It will be good, okay? Don't worry."

"I want it to be good for you too."

"Trust me, it will be."

"How do you know?"

She snorts. "You're so dense sometimes. Just trust me. I know."

And then, her lips softly push onto yours. Your eyes remain open for a second too long, and the sight of hers gently closing causes your mouth to split into a grin. A grin borne not just out of amusement, but pure happiness. Pure joy to experience something so new just with her. Something so private. Your first kiss. It'll forever be marked with the signature of Sevika, no matter how many years pass. 

This new act, one you still feel so innocent and untouched by, will forever be stained with the scent of her sweat, the feeling of her rough skin.

To make up for your impromptu smile, hoping she doesn't think you're laughing at her, you edge your face closer to hers, pressing your lips back onto hers. It's a new sensation, softer than you expected, the plush of her lips cushioning yours in a way that's absent of force. Your mind circles the sensation, relishing in the comfort of her lips hugging around your bottom lip.

She pulls back, eyes hooded. "Feels nice?"

You nod, vision blearily taking her in as you lick your tingling lips.

Her eyes immediately flick to the movement.

And then, she begins to move, her mouth opening slowly before enclosing yours again. A quiet, barely-there, squelching noise arises from the movement, and you throb at it. You have to force your body still as her tongue joins the mix, dipping against the corner of your mouth, licking patiently. It causes the spot to tickle in an aching, subtle pleasure, the warm wetness of her tongue making your mouth slippery and messy. 

"Okay?" she mumbles, the singular word moist with the saliva swapped.

Mind dizzy with the sensual conjoining of your mouths, lips, teeth, you utter a dazed consent before her mouth meets yours again. This time, she's less gentle with you, her hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as though she's easing you to open wider for her. And open you do, your mouth hanging pathetically, limp and willing as her tongue fully licks into you, running along your teeth before swiping against your own pink muscle.

That earlier tickling sensation returns with an intensity that's tenfold, and you whine into her mouth.

"Fuck, you're sweet," she groans in returns. Her hands wordlessly grab at the wrists laying by your head, encouraging you to wrap yourself around her. 

You timidly grip her shoulders, fingertips pressing into the smooth muscle of them. You don't know what touch is too forward, too eager, too much.

A notion that gets tossed right out of your mind when she pulls back, her thumb prodding at your mouth as she murmurs, "Stick your tongue out."

When her lips wrap around the muscle, sloppily sucking, heat blazes through you, making your feet twist, toes curling inside your socks. Your hands move with a mind of their own, wandering down the expanse of her back, marveling at the rolling hills of reliable, impenetrable muscle. 

When she nips playfully, your nails dig in. Hard.

"Jesus, fuck," she curses, jerking back from you. "What the fuck?"

"You bit me!" you protest.

She shifts from above you. "Yeah, well—"

"Well?"

"Wanted another noise from you."

Knowing she actually liked the little mewl you made, that it might've caused her as much arousal as you felt in that moment, has you biting back a self-satisfied smile.

"Shut up," she says, kissing you soundly again.

You dig your nails back into her back, moaning into the kiss as she flicks her tongue against yours again.

"Fuck, shouldn't have bought you those nails," she hisses through small, dripping kisses.

"You like them," you whisper back.

"Yeah, I do," she replies. 

Her lips scatter kisses onto your neck, her nose skimming along your jaw as she licks a cool stripe of spit along a patch of skin before sucking at it. The mix of hot and cool, the stinging ache of her lips hooking onto your skin — it all makes your eyes roll back, arms clutching onto her for dear life.

"God, you're good," she rasps, grazing her teeth. "Taste so fucking nice."

"Please, just— can we—"

"Nope," she grunts out, even when her fingers squeeze into your hips.

"Sevi, c'mon—"

"No," she asserts again. "Gonna take my time with you."

The tip of her tongue swipes the spot behind your ear, and you laugh loudly, caught in a web of desire and relief that nulls any reservations and stubbornness you bore before.

When you pull away instinctively, she chuckles lowly. "No, no, get back here."

"I need a breather!"

"Your nose is there for a reason."

"Well, look who's so eager for more now—"

"I've been waiting months," she sighs, pinning your arms down with a strength that makes arousal shoot through you.

"I've been waiting for years," you scoff, the smile on your face unbreakable.

"So, let me make it up to you," she declares, skimming her teeth along your jaw.

You giggle. "Such a good samaritan."

You barely catch her last words, for they're tucked and layered beneath her breath, dangerously low. 

But, you do, and they send your stomach plummeting.

"Yeah. Like I'm like this with anyone but you."

And then she descends upon you again, your body consumed with the scent of her cologne and the coolness of her piercing.

[thehoneybeestings]

if you're a lesbian and you're still using the definition of "women who love women" to describe the ENTIRE community, literally get off my page.

if you're a lesbian and GENUINELY believe that anyone who has a dick or takes T or uses he/him pronouns or dresses more masculinely cannot be a lesbian, literally get off my page.

if you're a lesbian and you're not including butches, studs, transmasc lesbians, non-binary lesbians, queer lesbians, genderfluid lesbians, tgirl butches, transfem lesbians and other identities that escape the cis female ideal, literally get off my fucking page.

[thehoneybeestings]

A Complete Guide to Sevika's Canon Dialogue

Sevika's Speech Patterns

In less than thirty minutes of screen time (27 minutes and 11 seconds) and less than 100 lines (62 across two seasons), Sevika tests the protagonists and other antagonists alike, shifts the landscape of the conflict during both seasons, and leaves a significant impression on a story filled with complex morality and character motivations.

This short guide is meant to serve as a reference for fanfiction writers who would like to portray her with her specific speaking habits in mind. Included is a brief analytical summary, a list of features to keep in mind, a link to download a video of all her scenes spliced together, and a full transcription of all of her lines broken down by season and episode.

Generally, Sevika opts not to speak when she can communicate in other ways. Her presence alone is imposing and can act as the center of gravity in a room where she is without her saying a word. This serves her preference of remaining silent most of the time, but also prevents her from eroding Silco's rhetorical authority, his most important tool as a crime boss who depends on the image of a revolutionary to maintain power. Her manner of speaking is concise, informal, and not significantly aggressive. She does not curse often, she is not long-winded, and her vocabulary is simple but precise. She almost never raises her voice when speaking, only using wordless exclamations in fights.

Keep in mind the following:

She is very short. Her sentences average less than ten words.

If she's being more wordy, it's usually because she's trying to piss someone off. If not that, she's offering advice. Either way, she is very observant, and what she has to say is very personalized.

She uses contractions often.

She clips the end of words often as well, but not always.

She usually drops the subject of sentences along with simple verbs when exasperated or distressed. i.e: "The hell we supposed to do now?" as opposed to "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

She makes liberal use of linguistic reduction - gonna, wanna, etc. as opposed to going to, want to, etc. - to the point of clipping the ends of contractions. i.e: It's no secret we got history… instead of we've got & I got more in common instead of I've got.

Here is a link to a video I made with all of her appearances from both seasons (yes, that includes when she's in the background and three pixels big)

Season One

Total number of lines: 31

Episode Two

"We should hit them back! We've got the numbers to beat 'em!"

"The Vander I knew? The one who built the underground, wouldn't be afraid to fight."

"No. You look weak."

Episode Four

"From your friend. Downtown."

"You were supposed to guard the cargo."

"She fired on us."

"It wasn't a mishap. She froze up and lost her shit. I could've handled those brats. She's a problem and we all know it."

Episode Five

"Rotten luck boys."

"Vi?"

"Vander had his chance."

"I see you never learned patience."

"Keeping her? You mean Jinx? She works for him. She's like his daughter. I'll give her your regards."

"The sister, she's back."

Episode Six

"We lost her."

"No need. It's your sister. She's back. She's looking for you. It's not what you think. She's with some girl enforcer, guess she replaced you."

"Why bother? With her back in town, it's only a matter of time before you implode and Silco finally gets the message that you're about as good for our cause as you were for your family. Jinx."

Episode Seven

"All our business is down. Enforcers are searching everyone who crosses the bridge."

"Or he's finally flipped."

"The Chembarons scheduled an assembly."

"It didn't sound like a request."

"Where are you going?"

"Sir."

"I got more in common with cave lice than Jinx, but let's just say I didn't always see eye to eye with my old man."

"She'll come to you when she's ready."

Episode Eight

"Silco isn't taking guests."

"Get to your point."

"This is your plan? Undermine Silco by making a half-assed play my ego? Gotta hand it you, Finn, every time I think you can't get dumber, you dig a new low."

"Been a while since Topside's gotten this bold."

"Too bad Jinx didn't think so."

"Not for a worm like him. But he won't be the last."

Episode Nine

"Everyone out."

Season Two

Total number of lines: 31

Episode Two

"I know you're all fantasizing about sawing each other's heads off, so I'm gonna get right to it. These turf wars have to stop."

"Topside is the real enemy. Us killing each other is playing right into their hands. Our best shot is to put aside these petty squabbles and join forces."

"Might matter up there, but they don't know the first thing about fighting in the fissures."

"We don't have over our people."

"I can't believe you're dead, and I'm still mopping up your messes."

"You here to finish me off?"

"Couldn't do much himself. About now, he'd have me all over the Lanes running his collections."

"Making his deals."

"He dips out, the whole world flips over."

"All his plans. Everything we built. The hell we supposed to do now."

"You forget, Smeech? You already made your last offer."

"Tell me, who's a funny lookin' rat now?"

"Moron never could keep his damn mouth shut."

"Haven't I done you enough favors? I didn't ask you for this."

"You got that look in your eye again. What are you planning?"

Episode Four

"You could have warned me."

"Your stunt at the checkpoint."

"That wasn't you?"

"Well, however it happened, the whole Undercity is buzzing saying you're back. So I'm thinking-"

"-would make a world of difference if you showed up. You're a symbol."

"Silco spent his whole life trying to rally the Undercity together. Stupid joke that it is, you have the chance to pull it off."

"Do you know how much he sacrificed to protect you? He believed in your potential."

"We're having a rally tonight. Vander's statue. Firelights, your fans, anyone I can bring to the table. Stick your head in the dirt if you want, but this fantasy you been livin' out here? It's not gonna last forever."

"I don't know how you do it, kid."

"It's no secret we got history. Blood spilled on all sides. But we grew up on the same streets, ate the same scraps. Like it or not, we're in this mess together. Enforcers raiding our homes, Noxians down our throats, innocents getting carted off to Stillwater. We gotta choose right now whether we're gonna throw in the towel or take a stand together. Not as Firelights or Jinxers or washed up goons. As Zaunites."

"They got her."

"Topside raided the place. Took everyone."

"I'm gonna hate this aren't I."

"Can we focus?"

"The hell was that?"

"You really are a-"

Credit to @thanathecreator for the Arcane divider

Credit to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the chain and skull divider

Credit to @strangergraphics for the purple neon dividers

Shoutout to @iwillmissourtalks for the Mel character guide post that inspired me to make this! And to @melmunchmedarda for letting me bounce ideas off you on a call while I wrote this!

[thehoneybeestings]

i raise you: a very tentative, chaste kiss from Emotionally Constipated Blorbo because it's been so long since they've allowed themselves love and affection and what if their lover just leaves like everyone else? which devolves into hungry, desperate, hands grabbing and teeth clashing kissing because it's been so long since they've allowed themselves love and affection and what if their lover just leaves like everyone else?

is this anything?

[thehoneybeestings]

Help a family survive the ongoing Gaza genocide!

Please pause for a moment and don’t just skim through! - take the time to read and truly reflect on this.

I have personally been in contact with this family for a while; they are kindhearted people who are in desperate need of urgent help, and they are also verified by Gazavetters (#6).

Recently, Israel allowed small quantities of aid and food supplies into Gaza. But of course, this is just a drop in the ocean compared to the overwhelming needs of the people here. My friend Ghada’s family has gone through an unprecedented famine that left shocking effects on their children - severe weight loss and constant crying from hunger. At times, they could only fall asleep simply because there was nothing to eat.

We had already spoken about Israel permitting some aid into Gaza at this particular time, but with talks of Israel’s intention to occupy the Gaza Strip, it is crucial that we act before the borders close again and food and supplies are cut off.

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[thehoneybeestings]

melvika!

[thehoneybeestings]

everybody be quiet my show is about to be on

Heh… sugar mommy!sevika x sugar baby!reader today 4PM for the US, midnight for me

It was normally 15k, then I shortened it a lot and decided to delete a few parts bc I was developing their relationship too much compared to the smut. And there’s actually not a lot of smut, surprisingly. My sentimental ass can’t help it chat

[thehoneybeestings]

daily affirmations (extremely hard edition)

I am not a "content creator" I am a writer and artist. I do not make the works that an audience demands, or that I think will be popular. I make the works that I'm passionate about, when I'm passionate about them.

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧-𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊˚── Synopsis: A few more sabotaged cargo shipments and some soul-sucking burnout later, and you're back home in Zaun for good. You know you're bound to run into Sevika again, but you were hoping you'd at least have time to unpack in your new place before it happened...

Word Count: 2.9k Content/Warnings: angst (w/ a happy ending! yay!), mature (no explicit sex but it is implied/briefly described) gn! reader, lovers to enemies to lovers again, reader is struggling with some gnarly guilt and self-hatred but its okay bc sevika is a saint as always A/N: yeah there was no way i wasn't writing a happy ending for this fic. like absolutely no way i couldn't bring myself to just leave it at that. this one is still angsty but the payoff is so good i promise! thank you to everyone who left love on the first part and requested a second, i hope you all enjoy!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of your face as you make your way up a few wooden stairs, careful as you can be not to drop the several boxes stacked precariously in your arms. 

The townhouse’s staircase looked cute when you were scrolling through pictures of the listing online, but now that you’re moving into it completely unassisted, you kick yourself for letting your desire to hang baskets of plants on the handrails overrule any practical decision-making. 

You drop the boxes down onto the porch- cringing when you hear something topple over against the cardboard- and drop down to the porch yourself, leaning against the door.

The blazing summer sun of Zaun mocks you from above, rays that would be beautiful on any other day now only working to piss you off. 

This was no easy feat; moving house in the middle of summer all by yourself. You didn’t think it would be. A part of you didn’t want it to be. Some sort of masochistic catharsis; a punishment for every decision you’ve made leading up to this moment.

You’d run so far from home, and now, you were right back, forced to face the damage you’d done in the process. 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat and get back to stacking boxes on the porch, but three hours of sleep and an untied shoelace were bound to screw you over eventually. Now, you’re tripping over the top step, watching in horror as a box marked “fragile” tumbles to the ground. You crouch down in defeat, wrapping your arms around your knees and letting your head go limp, and then,

“Y/n?”

Her voice cuts through the humid air. The masochist within you is overjoyed to hear that voice, low and gravelly as always. Exactly what you’ll hear when she says something that cuts through your soul instead. 

The rest of you is mortified. So mortified that all you can do is laugh. 

You slowly rise to your feet with a dry chuckle. 

“Sevika,” you greet, trying to decide if it’s her or yourself that you hate more right now. 

She points down at your feet. 

“Shoe’s untied,” she deadpans. 

And you swear you're about to jump at her, but then that lazy smirk breaks out on her lips, and you’re being disarmed against your will. 

It’s an ability she’s always possessed. 

“You didn’t tell me you were moving back,” she states, crossing her arms.

“Why would I do that?” You scoff, bending down to tie the shoelace that had just attempted murder. 

“So you wouldn't have to do it yourself,” she shrugs, like it’s obvious. 

You stand back up, brows furrowed in confusion, because, no, it isn’t obvious that you would call your ex and ask her to help you move back into the city where you left her alone just over a year ago. 

“Again… why would I do that?” 

She snorts, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 

“Stubborn woman…”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” you begin, voice clipped with agitation, “and I knew if I told you, you’d drop everything to come help me, even if I begged you not to.” 

The words land heavily. In the air, and in the pit of your stomach. 

Sevika’s smirk falls. Her jaw clenches like she’s angry, but her softening eyes betray her. 

“You’re damn right, I would,” she grunts, forlorn eyes boring into you.

But just as unspoken words and buried feelings begin to rise dangerously close to the surface, she steels herself, walking up the steps and picking up your boxes all begrudgingly, like she isn’t offering her help on a silver platter and silently pleading for you to accept. 

“Open the door,” she sighs. 

You huff, placing a hand on your hip. “Sevika, you-”

“Open the door.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. That, or you have no energy to argue.

You fish inside your back pocket for the tiny envelope containing the key to your new place. Moments like this are supposed to be exciting; fresh starts, endless possibilities, the beginning of a new chapter.

But you unlock the door with a sigh and swing it open as unceremoniously as ever to reveal the first floor of a townhouse that is as empty as you've felt for the past year.

Sevika is the first to step over the threshold, and you watch her head move in a circle as she scans the open floor plan, your stomach fluttering with a certain warmth. You should stop yourself from picturing that the two of you are still together and that you're finally moving into a bigger place like you've said you would for months, but you don't.

And the moment you realize just how far from reality your little daydream is, the emptiness comes back with a vengeance, screaming, "Don't you ever forget that this is your fault."

You blink away hot tears, effortlessly concealing your prior emotions when her voice interrupts your thoughts.

"They've got you stationed down here now, huh?" She grunts, placing your boxes on the floor and resting her hands on her hips as she scans once more. Oh, Sevika. Always scanning. She must find something she doesn't like, because her nose crinkles in distaste as she begins to stride toward the French doors in the dining room.

You feel shifty now. Your ego's already bruised as all hell coming back here as it is, and now you've got to tell her why that is. That she was right. That you do regret leaving in the first place.

"No… not exactly."

She doesn't look at you, too focused on jiggling the handles of the French doors and thinking about how easy it'd be for someone to break in, but makes a confused face anyway.

"The hell does that mean?"

You take a deep breath. Cross your arms across your chest. Walk over to prop yourself against the kitchen counter.

"I quit."

You say it with a shrug. Nice and casual. No need for any grand displays of shock.

Please, Sevika, no grand displays of shock…

Her head slowly turns to you, and you remember that Sevika would rather die than let you get off easy.

She stares at you for a moment, eyes searching your face for deceit, hands still settled over brass door handles.

"You serious?" She breathes.

"Yeah," you shrug again. "Just… wasn't my thing."

You cringe at yourself. Like over policing and mass-incarcerating the oppressed class was ever going to be your thing. In fact, Sevika had said this to you before you left.

It's why she can't help but chuckle, shaking her head as she finally turns around.

She crosses her arms, mirroring your stance, but the two of you couldn't look more different. Sevika, standing up straight, shoulders squared as she bucks up to say, "I told you so," and you, curling further into yourself, biting the inside of your cheek and bracing yourself for the gut punch it'll be when she says it, because you know it's true.

"You quit…" she echoes with the undercurrent of a challenge.

You take the bait. You can't help it; you always take the bait.

"Yes, Sevika," you spit, "is that not what I just-"

She raises her brows in a silent warning.

"You don't run shit down here."

You snap your jaw shut.

You always take the bait, but she always wins.

Neither of you says a word as you finish bringing boxes into the house. You figure that tolerating awkward silence is step one of atonement.

Step two is arbitrary small talk, which happens as you're both leaning against your respective make-shift furniture- you, against a plastic tub of your winter clothes, and Sevika, against a cardboard box containing your extensive mug collection- guzzling down water bottles and cooling off under the whirring ceiling fan.

"You got a job lined up already?"

Sevika being the first to break the silence means something to you. She hates small talk, hates anything that doesn't get her to where she wants to be.

The conversation means she wants to get somewhere with you. You don't know where, but you'll take anything, because even as you were sweating bullets underneath the hottest day of the year and the most palpable tension you've ever felt, you couldn't help but think about how much you missed her.

"No," you snort. "Just wanted to get the fuck out of Piltover as soon as I could."

"And what are you gonna do if you can't find one?"

Of course, she'd question you on that. The woman is fueled by coffee, cigarillos, and survival instincts so pertinent that you're surprised the stress hasn't killed her. There's no universe in which she'd uproot herself without a plan; in which she'd do anything without a plan.

That was never going to change. Not even with the influence of your spontaneity.

But she misses it anyway. Misses the impromptu dates, the random walks through the park, the late-night dance parties that would land you a call from your downstairs neighbors the next morning without fail.

"I dunno," you answer with a shrug. "Go fuck myself, I guess."

Your vulgarity. Damn, if she doesn't miss that, too.

She lets out a snort of her own; laughs harder when the box you're leaning against slides back, and you almost fall backward.

"C'mere," she smiles, waving you over with two hooked fingers before moving from her spot against the box of mugs, offering it to you.

"Nah, it's alright," you say, dismissing her offer with a wave, but she insists anyway, cocking her head toward the box.

You roll your eyes as you resign to taking her place. She sits across from you, legs outstretched and palms splayed on the floor behind her, biceps flexing with the effort of keeping herself up. Her grin remains, lazy and warm.

You haven't gotten this close to her except to yell at her or get fucked by her in over a year, and frankly, you don't know what to do with yourself. The only thing between the two of you now is a few feet and nauseating grief. No anger, no crackling electricity, no challenge.

Nothing to distract you from the fact that, Gods, you miss her so much.

Your eyes trail up from her arms to her shoulders- she's got a new scar peeking out from the rolled-up sleeve of her t-shirt, you notice- before they land on her face, and the shameless smirk plastered on it.

You realize then that it looks like you've been checking her out for the past five minutes.

"It's not even like that," you mumble, a grin tugging at your own lips now.

Her smirk softens. She doesn't tease you because she knows you're being honest, knows what you're actually doing. You're committing her to memory, just in case she decides this is the last time she ever wants to see you.

And you wouldn't blame her. Not after everything.

"Heard you took over for Silco," you muse.

Her expression hardens almost imperceptibly.

"You still running yourself into the ground, then?"

She scoffs.

"No more than I was before."

You're surprised by her transparency. This is a hill she used to die on before the two of you broke up; that she wasn't overworking herself, that she could handle herself, that she didn't need you or anyone else asking her to slow down or rest while her people were being terrorized by Piltover.

But she hadn't been able to admit to herself until recently that Silco's methods of revolution may have been just as detrimental to Zaun in a different way.

"You told me I was gonna drop dead working like this eventually," she gruffs, eyes trained on the grain of the hardwood floors. "Think I might be getting there."

She chuckles like it's nothing, but it isn't lost on you that she just admitted you were right. That across a few feet and nauseating grief, an olive branch is passed.

You take it.

"Well, you told me I wouldn't last more than a year up there. Guess you were right, too."

You chuckle through your nose, but at the same time, her grin falls, eyes still downcast.

"I shouldn't have said that."

Her words are a punch to the gut. So resolute. So honest.

Yours land just the same.

"I shouldn't have left."

She lifts her head to look at you. Finds you shaking your head, your chin starting to wobble, tears springing up in your eyes once more.

Your voice comes out much weaker than you mean for it to. Even breaks a little. You might have been embarrassed if you weren't so guilt-ridden.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm so sorry, Sev-"

"Don't," Sevika pleads, her voice just as soft and as pained as your own. "Don't do that. You don't need to-"

"Yes, I do," you exhale, and your voice really breaks this time. Raw, unadulterated regret, so poignant that her chest tightens. "I left you. I promised you I never would, and as soon as things got scary, I fucking ran anyway."

Sevika exhales slowly through her nose, trying her best to conceal that your words are ripping her apart in ways she never could have imagined.

"You made a promise before you knew that shit would hit the fan down here like it did. I don't blame you."

Your cheeks grow hot with indignation. You want her to blame you. You want her to be angry, to punish you, to demand that you atone; you don't deserve the forgiveness you know she'll so willingly give you.

"You were just tryin' to do what you thought was right," she continues. " I get it. I don't blame-"

"You should!"

Sevika's breath catches in her throat, gray eyes widening ever so slightly.

"You should blame me, Sevika. It doesn't matter that I thought I was doing what was right. I hurt you anyway. I became a cop anyway. You should hate me for that. I betrayedyou; I betrayed Zaun, and-"

"And I still don't blame you."

Her words are firmer this time. She looks you dead in the eye, brows raised, daring you to suggest that she should- that she could- ever blame you again.

"Y/n," she starts, her voice softer now, "I fucked up, too. You didn't just run away. You seem to be forgetting the part where I pushed you away; that I condescended you for believing in that Ekko kid, or that I refused to let you in unless you agreed to watch without protest while I killed myself for a man who had me back on the field less than two weeks after I lost an arm for him, or that I had the gall to get pissed at you for insisting that I was more than just a punching bag for his kid…"

The look on your face breaks her heart; the look that says you've never even considered that it wasn't all your fault. That maybe you were both just human, and scared, and wanted the best for each other, but had no idea how to get there when Piltover was gassing your streets.

She rises to her feet, slow and tired. Your heart drops, because this is the part where she leaves for good.

But then, she's offering her hand, pulling you up to stand with her, and cradling your face like there's never been anything more precious in the world.

"I don't blame you," she repeats, shaking her head. "And I don't hate you. I can't hate you. You're my-"

And this time, her voice breaks.

"You're my person," she exhales. "I couldn't hate you if I tried. And trust me," she chuckles, "I've tried."

You try to laugh, too, but it gives way to a sob.

"I love you," you cry, and she wastes no time pulling you in and wrapping her arms around you, holding you like you still belong to each other.

Deep down, you both know that there was never a moment you didn't belong to each other.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," she purrs, mech hand holding your head against her heart while the warmth of the other splays across your lower back. "I never stopped loving you."

Nothing gets unpacked that night, save for the one quilt you spread across the floor so the wood won't dig into your elbows and knees as you take each other. For the first time in a long time, it's slow, tender, soft. Kisses that say, "I've missed you more than anything," touch that says, "I'm not going anywhere."

Pleasure as a promise: you are mine, and I am yours, and that won't change.

And when you ask her to be rougher, to give you a taste of what your back alley fucks used to be like because her gentleness is almost harder to receive than a yank on your hair or a slap across your cheek, she refuses.

"I'm not gonna punish you, baby," she coos.

And when you oblige, she rewards you for it, again, and again, and again.

It isn't what you think you deserve, but you'd learn over the next few months that if you really want to make it up to Sevika, you'll let her love you like she's making up for lost time.

And a few years after that, the baby names are still up in the air, but the save-the-dates for a cozy Autumn wedding between the first Councilwoman to represent Zaun and the Political Science professor of Zaun's first post-secondary school have just been sent out.

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

Taglist: @abbysgymbro, @foxandmeadow, @shxdy0ariia, @izumimazuri, @riotstemple29

[thehoneybeestings]

a princess who only has her hands to entertain herself in the night and the knight who shares a bedroom wall with her and is being tested by god

[thehoneybeestings]

the comments on my latest post have genuinely made my week after my little hiatus. you guys will never know how special it is to receive a compliment on your work! it never EVER gets old!!! i promise!!!

(also love you guys so much MWAH)

i am taking your face in my hands, i am gently smooshing it, and I am saying lovingly, with every fiber of my being

please tell the creators of things you like that you like those things

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 (𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭) 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝) 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬...

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 1.9k Content/Warnings: nsfw, best friend!sev fucks the shit out of you, no pronouns used for reader, vibrator and strap use, reader has a shitty (but also gender neutral) ex, clueless lesbians in love A/N: okay i know this isn't on my upcoming works list but guys!! fwb sev!! love this concept wanted to see it fleshed out so here we are... and, as always, i hope you enjoy <3

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

୨ৎ FWB!Sevika, who's dicing away at vegetables when she hears the chime of the text tone she's set just for you

୨ৎ She's quick to drop the knife, wipe her hands on a kitchen towel, and pick up her phone, reading, “hey, you busy? had a shitty day and could use some company :)” 

୨ৎ Without hesitation, her thumb flies across the keyboard as she types, “Never too busy for you. Come over whenever.”

୨ৎ The two of you have been friends damn near forever now, which meant that you'd experienced many a relationship, breakup, bad first date, and soul-sucking talking stage alongside each other 

୨ৎ Eventually, this led to both of you making a pact that dating was off the table for half a year

୨ৎ But what you both fail to consider is this: you're horny motherfuckers

୨ৎ And by month three, the vibrators have gotten really old, so you propose an idea over drinks one night

୨ৎ “Why don't we just fuck each other?”

୨ৎ Neither of you are strangers to casual sex, nor have you ever been anything but open, honest, and comfortable with each other, so the arrangement made perfect sense and, honestly, worked really well

୨ৎ So well, in fact, that when those six months were over, you guys just kept fucking each other…

୨ৎ So, you and Sevika are now in your friends with benefits era

୨ৎ Benefits that include cuddling with each other in the morning, running errands together in the afternoon, and making dinner for each other in the evening...

୨ৎ Ya know. Regular fuck-buddy behavior!

୨ৎ Your fuck buddy opens the door for you as soon as you’re at her doorstep, and you’re immediately wrapped in a hug by the smell of homemade chicken noodle soup, the sound of Ella Fitzgerald floating through the air, and the warm smile she only ever gives you

୨ৎ “Shitty day, huh?” She asks, holding out a hand for you to take as you walk up the final step of her front porch and into her house… You know, like fuck buddies do

୨ৎ “Like you wouldn't fucking believe,” you sigh for the umpteenth time today, but this time, she's coaxing your jacket off your shoulders, and they finally seem to relax as you exhale

୨ৎ She huffs out a chuckle, but her brows furrow in concern as she watches you kick your shoes off and pad over to the living room to flop down onto the couch in defeat

୨ৎ Sevika hates to see you upset, and will always do whatever she can to make you feel better, so she makes her way to the kitchen to pour you a bowl of soup, determined to do just that

୨ৎ “I’ve got chicken noodle soup and a listening ear,” she announces, handing you the bowl. “Think that’ll help?”

୨ৎ “That and the fancy ass vibrator you’ve got upstairs,” you deadpan, taking your first sip of the rich broth as she barks out a laugh

୨ৎ She nestles in beside you, and listens so intently to your venting that she hardly touches her own bowl of soup

୨ৎ “So, my boss had already been on my ass all day- eat-” you suddenly interrupt yourself, nodding toward her bowl and picking the story right back up as she quickly obliges, “I’m fucking fuming as I walk out of the office, and then… I run into Sam as I’m walking to my car..?”

୨ৎ Sevika’s eyes widen and she learns forward, hoping to Janna that she hadn’t heard you right

୨ৎ “Sam?” She repeats incredulously 

୨ৎ “Sam,” you echo, lips pressed into a thin line

୨ৎ Your ex, who you had dated for nearly three years before you randomly came back home to a half-empty apartment and a chicken-scratched note about how they “needed some time on their own” 

୨ৎ Sevika’s face morphs into one of disgust as she shakes her head and takes another bite

୨ৎ “Fuckin hate Sam…” she mutters

୨ৎ “I know you do,” you chuckle, “you hate Sam more than I hate Sam.” 

୨ৎ “Hell yeah, I do! They fuckin’ broke your heart and stole your favorite blanket in one foul swoop. What kind of evil is that?”

୨ৎ You throw your head back in laughter at the rare display of emotion; Sevika's nothing if not protective of you, and clearly, she hasn’t moved on from this breakup…

୨ৎ “What were they doing in the parking lot of your job?” She sneers

୨ৎ Your lips pull into a smirk, and you cock a brow as if to say, “you’re not even ready…”

୨ৎ And Sevika’s expression goes flat, her shoulders dropping as if to reply, “don’t tell me…”

୨ৎ “They work with me, now.”

୨ৎ She slams her bowl onto the coffee table and throws herself back onto the couch, dragging her hands down her face

୨ৎ “Why…” she shakes her head, “why…?”

୨ৎ “Oh, come on, Sev! Have some compassion…” you playfully scold, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “They’ve got a baby on the way, and they want their wife to be able to stay at home…”

୨ৎ At this, she shoots up from the couch, hands on her head and horror on her face like her team’s out on the court and they’re fucking bombing

୨ৎ She paces across the living room about three times before she finally turns to you and your shit-eating grin, hands dropping to her hips

୨ৎ “Wife? Baby?!” You’ve never seen her in more shock. “You broke up a year ago!”

୨ৎ “Love finds you when you least expect it,” you joke, trying your best to play off the hurt that you feel, but the hurt is there

୨ৎ It’s real, and raw, and it escapes you as a bitter chuckle

୨ৎ “Dude,” she exhales, finally falling back down on the couch, “I’m sorry. What a dick…”

୨ৎ “‘S alright,” you shrug. “I'm over it by now, anyway.” 

୨ৎ “You can be over it. Doesn’t change the fact that it sucked then, it sucks now, and they never should’ve approached you… especially not to tell you about their wife and kid.”

୨ৎ “Basic decency is a rare commodity these days,” you chortle

୨ৎ For a moment, she sits beside you, her jaw set and her gaze steely 

୨ৎ “You know what you need?” She suddenly grunts

୨ৎ You hum in response, turning your head to her

୨ৎ And when she looks back, a mischievous glint twinkles in her eye, and a smirk tugs at her lips

୨ৎ “The forget-your-ex special…”

୨ৎ “The fuck is the forget-your-ex special?”

୨ৎ 30 minutes later, you’re face down, ass up in her bed, actively getting the answer to that question…

୨ৎ She’s not fucking around tonight; no beating around the bush, no teasing, no making you beg or plead

୨ৎ She’s giving you exactly what you want, over, and over, and over, and-

୨ৎ Your legs give out underneath you, eyes rolling back in your head as she presses her thickest strap into your sopping heat

୨ৎ You’ve already come four times- once riding her thigh, twice on her mouth, and once more on her fingers- and you’re not sure you can take it anymore

୨ৎ But then, she’s leaning over, voice low and steady as she bottoms out inside of you, praising you for doing so well

୨ৎ “Just one more for me, baby. You’re being so good for me… just one more. Can you do that for me?”

୨ৎ You whimper into the pillows, nodding your head as tears of pleasure begin to prick your eyes

୨ৎ One thing is for sure; your ex is officially no longer on your mind

୨ৎ Quite frankly, as she begins to pound into you, nothing is on your mind

୨ৎ You know you’re a mess right now; all marked up, covered in spit and slick and sweat, hair messy and skin flushed, and you might feel self-conscious of just how fucked out you are if it weren’t for the fact that Sevika makes you feel like an angel on earth, no matter what state you’re in

୨ৎ You know. Like friends with benefits do. 

୨ৎ In fact, it seems she wants you more fucked out than you already are, because suddenly, she’s pulling out that fancy ass vibrator from the drawer of her nightstand, her pace never relenting as she plugs it in

୨ৎ You don’t see it from where your face is buried in the blankets, but you hear a click and a familiar buzz, and your clit throbs in response

୨ৎ “Holy fuck, Sev,” you pant, “are you trying to kill me..?”

୨ৎ She grins, one hand holding the vibrator, and the other kneading your hip

୨ৎ “Not trying to kill you,” she muses; and then, she’s reaching around to press the vibrator against your aching clit

୨ৎ All you can do is mewl, your face buried in the mattress as she fucks you into the mattress

୨ৎ “There we go,” she coos. “Just want you nice and dumb for me…”

୨ৎ It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for your fifth and final orgasm to rip through you, your body convulsing underneath her

୨ৎ She grabs a fist full of your hair, pulling your head up from the bed as you scream

୨ৎ “Let me hear you when you come, baby. You know better.”

୨ৎ That, you do; you know that if Sevika could upload your moans to Spotify, they’d go straight to her playlist of favorite songs alongside Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole

୨ৎ You cry out for her as the longest orgasm of your fucking life wracks through you, but the minute you begin to lurch away, gasping as the sensations become too much, she’s turning off the vibrator, taking off the harness, and wrapping you up in her arms

୨ৎ “Feel better?” She asks, stroking your back as you catch your breath

୨ৎ “Fuck yeah,” you exhale, eyes fluttering closed and a smile pulling at your lips

୨ৎ “Don’t fall asleep yet,” she purrs. “Still gotta pee.”

୨ৎ You groan in protest, as if she isn’t going to carry you to the bathroom so that you don’t have to walk

୨ৎ And as you’re sitting on the toilet, and she’s brushing her teeth for bed, it suddenly dawns on you just how domestic this all is

୨ৎ In fact, things have felt domestic like this since you started fucking her eight months ago… 

୨ৎ (Congratulations, you were the last person on earth to put that together, btw…)

୨ৎ And, quite honestly, you really like it

୨ৎ Listening to her hum along to her favorite jazz tracks as she cooks, snorting as she cusses out the assholes who cut her off as she’s driving you to work, bearing witness to the warm smiles and impassioned displays of emotion that she only seems to let slip around you…

୨ৎ You could get used to this

୨ৎ You have gotten used to this

୨ৎ And so, you propose an idea, just like you had over drinks eight months ago

୨ৎ “Why don’t we just date each other?”

୨ৎ Her toothbrush stills in her mouth, she looks down at where you still sit on the toilet, and then, when your hands reach for the toilet paper, eyes still glued to her as you await her response, she just laughs

୨ৎ She spits out her toothpaste, wipes her mouth and dries her hands, puts her toothbrush down next to your spare and walks over to the toilet to plant a minty kiss on your lips

୨ৎ “Y/n,” she murmurs, “I'm starting to think we should marry each other.”

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──