sevsgiirl

[sevsgiirl]

as a certified sleepy girl this warmed my heart so much 😭😩 got me giggling and kicking my feet huhuhu.

HEADCANONS | SEVIKA × SLEEPY! WIFE! READER

notes : lol sorry for the long wait, i tried to make it quite long :3

content : pure fluff, the tittle it's self explanatory

You fall asleep in the car every time. Doesn’t matter if it’s a five-minute drive or an hour. Sevika drives with one hand and rests the other gently on your thigh, rubbing circles while you snore softly.

She’s found you asleep on laundry piles, the kitchen table, and even half off the bed. Instead of waking you, she just makes sure you’re warm and safe and takes a picture for her private album.

Sevika secretly times in her mind how long it takes you to doze off during movie nights. Your record is 52 minutes into the film.

You always insist you're not tired. While yawning and curled up in a blanket. Sevika raises one brow: “Sure, babe. Wide awake.”

She loves it when you nap on her chest. Your breath warms the space right over her heart, and she swears nothing calms her nerves like that.

Sometimes you fall asleep mid conversation, You were talking about how hard it was to make a perfect cake, then your voice went slower and lower till the room was in silence. Sevika just chuckles and finishes your sentence for you before covering you with a throw blanket.

She’s developed the stealth of a trained assassin. Walking around the house in near silence to avoid waking you, especially if you’ve been having light sleep.

You always nap after meals. Sevika picks up your empty plate, kisses your forehead, and whispers, “I’ll clean up. Just rest.”

She adores your sleepy voice. That soft, raspy mumble when you call her name with your eyes still closed makes her melt instantly.

You cling to her like a koala in your sleep. Sevika has mastered the art of staying still for hours just so you can rest peacefully.

You fall asleep in public. she just places her hand on your thigh and keeps talking like nothing happened.

She has to carry you to bed most nights. And she pretends to complain, but you catch her smiling every time, remembering how she walked with you in her arms the day of your wedding

You fall asleep while waiting for her to get ready for work, and she sneaks back to the room just to watch you rest ( she tells silco she's reaaaaaly sick that day just to get a whole day with you ).

When you nap on the couch, she watches over you like a guard dog. Anyone who even thinks about waking you up will get the glare.

You sleep with your hand on her chest or stomach. She won’t move a muscle until you shift first.

She has a soft spot for how you mumble her name in your dreams. “Vika…” and she’s feeling her cheeks hot in the dark of the room..

She keeps extra blankets everywhere. One in the car, two in the living room, one folded on her office chair, just in case her sleepy wife gets tired again.

She’s tried to tease you about how much you sleep. But you looked at her with half-lidded eyes and said, “You love it,” and she couldn’t argue.

Sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night just to watch you breathe. Then, she kisses your forehead and goes back to sleep.

She’s your favorite mattress. Even in summer, even when it’s too hot, your head always finds her chest or thigh.

You always nap in her worn out T-shirts. Sevika pretends not to notice—but she keeps giving you more of them.

You fall asleep face down during massages. Sevika kisses the back of your neck, adjusts your pillow, and keeps rubbing your back until you start snoring.

Your naps are sacred to her. She rearranges her schedule so she can hold you when you need rest.

If anyone jokes about how much you sleep, she’ll glare at them. “She works hard. Let her rest.”

When you fall asleep in the bath, Sevika gently scoops you out, dries you off, and tucks you in like you’re made of porcelain.

She loves coming home to find you curled up on the couch, book forgotten in your lap. It makes her chest ache—in a good way.

She memorized your sleep patterns. She knows when you’re dreaming, when you're restless, and how to soothe you without waking you.

You always fall asleep first, but wake up with Sevika already watching you. She greets you with, “Hey, sleeping beauty,” and kisses your temple.

When she’s away on business, she knows you have trouble sleeping. So she adopted a fluffy pet for you. It's not the same as her cuddling you, but it works.

No matter how many years pass, she never gets tired of watching you sleep.

౨ৎ - 𝐓aglist ; @prettyinpink69 , @abbysdollie , @marieeeluvsyou , @littlelovelunette , @madzorwhatever , @zvmbitegirl , @salsalsusu , @katarandaa, @starrycherie , @moonshimegf , @watermelonshine, @zombieeepup, @laviannasfanfics , @windytulips, @genderfluidlesbain999 , @dulcerbbns

[sevsgiirl]

PART THREE

summary: in which you and sevika are divorced. read part one here and part two here. part four will be published soon.

word count: 9239

this chapter is hefty but the chapters after this will have less angst and more of the good stuff (a.k.a fluff & smut).

thanks for reading!

~~~

As patient as she always is, Grayson sits beside you on the bathroom floor. For a while, it’s hard to focus on what she’s saying. The low hum of her voice appears to be white noise.

And then, slowly, her words travel to you and take root in your brain. 

“You know we’re all here for you both, right?” Grayson mutters. Your head rests on her left shoulder, breath struggling to even due to your hiccups. “Ava knows that you two love her. There’s no doubt about that. And I’m not saying that you’re not capable of doing this alone. But you don’t always have to do it alone. We’re family.”

You nod smally, desperately wanting her reassurance to take effect. However, a lingering doubt still exists within you because no matter how many times you’ve heard these words from Mel, Gert and Grayson, it’s difficult for you to imagine a day where you don’t feel as if your life is burdensome to them. How could you possibly lean on them and not feel an overwhelming sense of guilt? They have their own life to deal with–their own marriage and daughter to look after. 

“So,” Grayson continues. “Let Mel and I take Ava home. She can have a sleepover with Lianna, the perfect birthday surprise…I’ll even let you take the credit for it.” She nudges you with her elbow and you struggle to suppress a snort. “It gives you time to recover for the night and get some re-”

You begin to shake your head, “You know I can’t ask that of you guys.”

A part of you expects Grayson to insist, like all of the other times before. This isn’t the first instance where she’s suggested babysitting Ava while you get your shit together. However, this is the first time where you actually feel tempted to say yes. 

Instead, though, Grayson doesn’t probe. She remains silent, seemingly in deep thought. Your heart rate picks up in response and you can’t help but count the seconds as they tick by.

Maybe you’re being a tad bit unreasonable. Maybe this is the time where you’re supposed to let go of your pride–to allow someone, other than Sevika, to help you. But it’s hard to say yes when your brain is reminding you of all the reasons you should say no.

“You remember when Mel and I broke up? And you let me crash at your place?” 

Your brain drags back to that summer which was nearly over a decade ago. A younger version of you, happy and hopeful for the future, was surprised when Grayson showed up on your doorstep. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, eyes bloodshot and face distraught. You offered your home without hesitation. Sevika was stunned when she came home from work later that night. But of course, with Grayson being her best friend, she didn’t mind.

“I had convinced myself we would get back together,” Grayson continued. “I was delusional. I didn’t want to accept it. I couldn’t bring myself to admit how badly I fucked up and that I truly lost her. And even though I assured you that I just needed a week, you didn’t mind when it turned into two weeks…then a month…then four.”

You would be lying if you didn’t think that Grayson had been delusional during that year. After her and Mel broke up, she was the most distraught you had ever seen her. But you knew the severity of the situation and you knew Mel like the back of your hand–once she makes her mind up about something, she rarely backtracks. So, despite what Grayson had wanted to believe, you knew that she would need a place to stay for much longer than a week.

“Helping me get back on my feet, never charging me rent, always being there to listen to me–despite the endless support you were also giving Mel? I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you. And yet you were so gracious. And you never made me feel unwelcome or unloved. Neither you or Sevika.”

Since Grayson and Mel’s life was so intertwined, it was hard for Grayson to start over. You insisted that she save all of her money because you and Sevika truly didn’t need any of it. Two weeks after their breakup, you secretly bought and installed a futon for her in the living room while she and Sevika were running errands (because you knew Grayson would not accept the gesture otherwise). 6 months after the breakup, you and Sevika took Grayson out to a celebration dinner for signing her lease to an apartment (a huge milestone considering the incredible depression that the breakup had triggered). And for another year you had to learn how to support and love your two friends–Grayson and Mel–separately again; that is, until they eventually got back together. 

“I would do it all over again if you needed,” You reply, refocusing your attention to the present. “It’s what friends do.”

“It’s what families do.” Grayson murmurs.

And there it is–that annoying feeling of being stupefied. 

“I’ve watched you try to bear almost everything alone. Even when we were kids and especially throughout your marriage with Sev. Especially throughout the divorce and up until now. But that’s not a life worth living. We all need help sometimes. It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s what makes us human. So, I need you to not take offense when I say this.  After all, I’m here–sitting on this cold ass floor–because I love you.” She clears her throat, voice wavering with emotion. “Mel and I will take Ava home. I’ll tell Ava that you wanted to surprise her and she’ll love you for it. She’ll have the best sleepover ever with Lianna, which she will remember fondly years from now. And you’ll be here with Gert, getting a well-deserved break and taking care of yourself.  There's a ton of pizza to be had and I’ll make sure Gert buys you that horrible tea you seem to love. The night will pass and tomorrow will come. And a new day will be ahead of you.”

“Grayson, I-”

“And I won’t accept any future apology that I already know you’re trying to make.”

You try to blink away your tears, rolling your eyes at how predictable you can be. 

You want to say thank you, but what comes out instead is, “Gert shouldn’t have to give up her night to babysit me. I’m capable of having a night alone, Gray. I’ll schedule an emergency session with my therapist for tomorrow morning and I should be settled enough afterwards to pick Ava up–”

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight, whether or not you decide to have a session tomorrow.”

You know that Grayson is right. A night without another human present would just lead to you crying on the sofa while watching ridiculous rom-coms. It was a solo activity that you always did when feeling sad. Your friends occasionally teased you about it and Mel had even joined you a few times. But you can tell that Grayson won’t budge on this. She can be irritatingly stubborn.

“You must have Ava facetime me before bedtime.”

“Of course-”

“Seriously. I need to sing to her before she sleeps. It's…our thing.”

Only then is when Grayson’s lips quirk up into a ghost of a smile. “Okay.”

***

The grainy reflection of your therapist, Felicia, stares at you. She’s a pretty woman–purple hair swept into a french braid, eyebrows perfectly arched and silver orbs swirling with quiet understanding. 

She’s one of the few people that you’ve felt comfortable truly opening up to, which was initially surprising considering how hesitant you were to start therapy in the first place. You have learned many things from her over the course of two years. But moments like last night sometimes make you fear that there is still so much work to be done.

“So, you finally made a breakthrough with Sevika,” Felicia states. There’s no underlying emotion laced in her words. She’s always great at simply stating the facts and allowing you to do the rest. 

However, you can’t help but wince because breakthrough isn’t the word you’d ever use. 

“I think, although it’s important to reflect on how to better approach conversations like last night,” Felicia continues. “It’s important for us to also look at the positives. Expressing your feelings is something that was long overdue. You must feel at least an ounce of relief.”

It’s true. You do feel a tad bit lighter despite the fact that you just instigated one of your worst arguments with Sevika on the night of your daughter’s birthday. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that Felicia has been urging you to do this for over a year now. Once you finally opened up to her about the events leading up to your divorce and the messy aftermath, she immediately suggested that you sit down and have a transparent conversation with Sevika (which is an idea you’ve been adamantly rejecting). You had always felt that there was no reason to bring up the past. That what’s done is done; that you shouldn’t despair because you can’t turn back time. 

But it was obvious that avoiding such a confrontation was impossible. You had let it all fester until it blew up. 

“...And this should open up a dialogue with her that you’ve been waiting for.” Felicia adds, sending you a supportive smile.

“Dialogue isn’t really my thing,” You respond, wrinkling your nose. “Plus, there’s not much else to say or do. I’m pretty sure she hates me now, if she didn’t already.”

Felicia’s eyebrows furrow. She regards you for a moment, deep in thought. 

“Whether or not she’s upset with you, the dialogue will happen one way or another. You can decide to keep suppressing yourself until you explode again sometime in the future, which you know I will never recommend. Or you can take this as an opportunity to get a better understanding of each other. The conversation doesn’t have to end in you two being friends again–or anything of the like–since that’s not always a realistic expectation. But if you decide to fully lay things out on the table, you’ll walk away from the discussion being heard and gaining closure. You’ll at least improve your co-parenting relationship and I think it will finally give you permission to begin moving on.”

Moving on.

Closure.

Understanding.

You’re filled with a sense of deja vu, brain backtracking to your first few sessions with Felicia. The sentiment of trying to get to your next chapter post-divorce and desperately wanting to become friends again with Sevika… that was all you were able to ruminate about during those hard months after the split. You were constantly thinking about all those conversations (and lack thereof) that occurred during those last months of marriage; how you felt like she had checked out and that she wasn’t present with you. That disconnect that occured between you and Sevika–which younger you never thought could possibly happen–was what you always struggled with the most. Somehow, no matter what other topics you talked to Felicia about, the sessions constantly seemed to circle back to this; even years later.

And, like always, Felicia ensured that you could sort these feelings out; that your questions could be answered. All you had to do was start the conversation. But starting such a conversation with Sevika meant that you would have to hear what she would say in return. You would have to listen to her perspective as well, and why she did what she did during the last moments before the divorce. 

And you weren’t sure you were ready for that. You weren’t sure if you ever would be.

Sevika had become harder to read in the last few years. She rarely let her walls down for you unless it involved her expressing anger. You didn’t know what to expect if you sat down with her and asked, “What did we do for it to all go wrong?”

And that uncertainty was scary. 

So, yeah. You spent years trying to take the divorce in stride.  You had tried to put on a facade and avoided starting such a conversation with Sevika–despite Felicia’s opinion–because time had passed. Because you convinced yourself that there was no point in crying over spilled milk. And even in moments you stupidly thought it might be good to take Felicia’s advice, Sevika’s accumulating list of girlfriends always brought you back to reality. 

But obviously, the way you’ve decided to go about things has come to bite you in the ass. Because here you are, experiencing one of the first lows that you’ve had in a long while, on an impromptu Zoom therapy session while your best friends babysit your daughter. 

Prior to yesterday, you thought that you were finally getting your shit together. The universe always did a wonderful job at proving you wrong. 

“Just think about it,” Felicia concludes. “I’m sure she has unanswered questions too.”

Before you can spiral about the idea of Sevika possibly wanting closure, Felicia is already moving on. “You mentioned that Grayson and Mel had Ava for the night?”

Your right hand falls to your left wrist, twiddling with a bead bracelet that Ava had made you not too long ago.

You were afraid to admit it but you did think that Grayson was right about you needing a night to relax. You ended up watching two hilarious rom-coms with Gert, eating pizza and drinking your favorite tea she bought you (despite your demands for her not to) before she affectionately wished you goodnight and went home. You didn’t know how much you needed that time with Gert, someone who always brought you comfort no matter your mood, until the night was already over and you were peacefully laying in bed. Grayson was annoying and oftentimes too honest. But God, that woman was smart. 

“I kept telling her that she didn’t have to,” You defended. “I don’t want her to feel like her and Mel always have to come swooping in and save me from things, you know? Like…I would have been able to continue on with Ava’s party and really give her a great birthday memory. I just needed to recollect myself first.”

“Do you feel like you burden them? Mel and Grayson?”

Your eyes widen as you stare at Felicia incredulously. “Are you kidding? Of course.”

“Have they told you that? Or does their actions, in any way, show that they feel like that?”

“No. But–”

“Do you think that they are unable to express how they feel towards you?”

You blink a few times, frowning. “Of course not.”

“So, why do you think you feel this way?”

And as you struggle to come to any other conclusion, you hand tugs harder at your bracelet. 

Because, surely, it’s a simple question you should be able to answer. 

But…you can’t. 

“And, as you stated earlier, you’d never come to a point where you let anyone other than myself or your ex support you, so I can understand why this unfamiliar territory may be uncomfortable. But I think we should talk about support systems for a second.” Felicia pauses, taking a swig of her water bottle while you try to process all that she is saying. “There may be a time where we’ll reach a plateau and you’ll have gained all the necessary tools you need for me. There may be a time where you might not ever feel inclined to seek therapy anymore. And you’ll need a support system, outside of medical services, for that. Even when my clients are in therapy, I always try to talk to them about building foundational relationships with loved ones; creating community is just as vital as all the other things we’ve been working on.”

A heavy exhale leaves you. Of course you understood what she meant. Mel, Grayson and Sevika had been your family for over 20 years. 

“You don’t always have to go through everything alone,” Felicia’s voice was much softer now. “You have these people, this family, that wants you to lean on them. It doesn’t have to be every time. But life happens and it’s a lot easier to have people pull you up when you’ve been knocked down. I’m sure there’s been times where the roles have been reversed and you’ve been there for them. You have people that desperately want to love you. So let them.”

“Has anyone ever told you that it’s annoying how great you are at this?”

Felicia laughs, crinkles appearing around her eyes. You can’t help but smile. 

Then the moment is interrupted when your phone lights up. “Speaking of Grayson, I think she just texted. I have to go soon.”

Felicia nods, “Okay.”

***

“Can we get this? Please?” 

You’re slow to look away from the shelf of milk cartons you had been staring at. 

Had the price spiked another 50 cents?

When you finally drag your gaze to Ava, you find her pressing her pointer finger against another glass door. You were in the freezer section of the store, trying to take advantage of the cooling temperature due to the current heatwave in town. 

That’s when you find that the object of Ava’s interest is an entire shelf of orange cream popsicles. 

Upon the realization, your heart drops to your stomach. You peer back at Ava who remains hopeful and expecting. Her round brown eyes are devastating. 

“It’s summer!” She pleads, as if that's an explanation within itself.

And it is.

Because you know exactly what she means.

Your jaw falls slack, eyes darting back to the frozen treat. 

There’s another churn to your stomach followed by an onslaught of memories.

“Just a box for now,” You respond. Your voice is tight, choking around the sentence as you step forward and open the glass door.

That’s enough for Ava to break out into a cheerful dance, hands pumping up in fists as she jumps around. The sight of it is powerful enough to recenter you. You crack a smile, laughing in slight disbelief. 

Ava’s celebration attracts the attention of nearby shoppers as they pass by. You shake your head, grabbing her hand as you walk further down the aisle. 

“Did you like the string cheese I bought the time before?” You question, skimming the aisle for any nearby carts to steal. You tried to readjust the loaf of bread and popsicles in your arm, but it was uncomfortable considering that you were using your other hand to hold Ava’s.

“It was okay but I like other things now. Lianna gets these cashews from Auntie Mel and they are so good. Have you ever heard of cashews, Mommy?”

You suppress a laugh, deciding to humor your daughter anyways. You had heard of how much the girls enjoyed the new snack based on what Mel texted you.

“Yes, I’ve heard of them before.”

Ava looks at you with wider eyes, as if the idea of you hearing about the common treat was groundbreaking. It’s always endearing to realize how small her world is. Your heart tugs at the idea that it won’t be like this forever. 

You squeeze her hand, steering her through another aisle as you shoot her a wider smile. 

“I always love having them with fruit.” You explain. “I can buy us some today, how does that sound?”

Her lips part and form into an O, wonder etching onto her features.

You’re about to respond again, clearly finding Ava’s current cashew-nut obsession entertaining, when instead a gasp leaves you. 

Your body collides into something hard, causing you to nearly lose your balance. 

“Oh my god,” You manage to say. The loaf of bread and popsicles slip out of your arm and onto the ground. Clearly dazed, you first look at your daughter–immediately making sure that she’s okay.

Unexpectedly, you watch as she gasps, eyebrows raising before a round of giggles erupt. “Mama!” She cries, clearly elated. “What are you doing here?”

And that alone causes your head to snap forward.

Fuck.

This is not exactly what you’d been expecting when taking Ava to the store. But it seemed like the universe always bombarded you with moments that made your head spin.

Being here in front of Sevika–who you just embarrassingly bumped into–was your fault anyways. You should have been more aware of where you were leading your daughter. It had only been a small moment that you weren’t looking forward. But apparently it was the moment that counted. 

Sevika, dressed in a burgundy henley and black slacks, makes you feel hyper aware of your polka dot matching loungewear that you and Ava are wearing. You don’t get much time to think about anything else because Sevika isn’t even looking at you. Instead, she crouches down, welcoming her daughter in a tight hug before picking her up. You take that as a moment to regain your bearings, focusing your attention on picking up your bread and popsicle box. You curse yourself quietly when you see the slight tremble in your hands.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Ava announces, giggling again. Her voice is slightly muffled due to how tightly she embraces Sevika.

“Well of course I’m here,” Sevika mutters, her voice a smooth hum. It’s incredibly gentle, a characteristic that only Ava can truly bring out of her. “This is the best store in town.”

It’s when you’re straightening your posture and re-adjusting your groceries to your other arm when Sevika looks at you. 

After the explosive night that occurred a few days ago, you had yet to reach out to her. You hadn’t been sure what it would be like to see her face again and although you knew that it had to be soon, you were hoping it wouldn’t be until the next drop-off day.

But here she is, in the flesh, with Ava in her arms.

Her expression is unreadable, eyes measuring you with an intensity you hadn’t yet been prepared for. She hikes Ava higher up in her arms, biceps flexing from the action. 

“We got creamsicles!” Ava interjects, sitting up so that she can point to the box in your arms.

You shift your weight immediately. Sevika’s gaze trails down your face, nearly taking forever before they land on the ice-cold box in the crook of your arm. You swallow, trying not to remember all of your summers with her; summers filled with her endearing habit of evening bbq’s. Summers where you’d tease her about her love for eating creamsicles on the beach, even though you loved them just as much. 

And now your daughter is so similar to her. Adopting habits and cravings and sayings that you thought you had left behind when the divorce had been finalized. 

You try to force yourself to say something–to say anything that would stop you from feeling so stupid. But you can only stare back.

“You can never go wrong with those,” Sevika finally says. Her sentence is directed more towards Ava but her eyes never leave yours. 

Your brain jumps to Ava’s birthday a few days ago, when Sevika had been visibly wrecked by your confession.

You don’t have the strength to verbally acknowledge the guilt you have from that night. Not so soon after the fact, and not in the middle of the grocery store.

But, for a small second, you allow it to hit you. And you know that she sees it.

For a moment, you almost convince yourself to apologize right then. Washed over with thick emotion, your lips part and your eyes burn, and your heart hammers erratically inside of your chest. 

Body reacting faster than your brain can register, you step forward. Your free hand reaches for Sevika, one wounded human to another, before you rest it on her forearm, holding it there. Your attention falls to the point of contact, your skin pressed against hers in a simple act that one wouldn’t usually feel so moved by. But you know that’ll never be the case for you.

Your thumb caresses her skin in small sweeps; your nervous system oddly comforted by something that should feel foreign now, especially after all the time that’s passed.

There’s a small hitch of breath, which snaps you out of your daze. Your eyes dart back up to her and you clear your throat. 

“You’re acting funny,” Ava says, on the brink of another round of giggles as she looks at you. 

And yes, you probably were because you sure as hell felt funny. 

“Are you coming home with us, Mama?” Ava asks. “We have a movie night!”

“Is that so?” Swiftly, Sevika presses a kiss against Ava’s temple. Your hand drops back to your side.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one. So…” You explain, finally mustering up enough courage to say something. “We’re getting snacks.” You hold up your loaf of bread and popsicles, shaking them as a forced awkward titter leaves you.

Oh God.

Sevika quirks an eyebrow, “Bread and Creamsicles,” She states dryly. 

“And cashews!” Ava cheers.

Sevika’s lip twitches and her eyes flash. If you hadn’t been staring so intently you’d have probably missed it. But you definitely saw it: a sign that you hadn’t completely turned her stone-cold. 

“As…interesting as that combination sounds,” Sevika begins. “I do have to go soon.”

As expected, Ava groans in disappointment. She always likes to have both you and Sevika in her presence. 

You allow your daughter to say goodbye to Sevika. They embrace in another tight hug, Sevika whispering something to her before kissing her cheek. Then, she’s crouching to the ground so that the 4-year old can walk back to you.

In an attempt to end the lulling silence, you say, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.” 

She seems to sober at your words, head tilting as a careful expression fills her features. 

You chew the inside of your cheek, beginning to regret the invitation as fast as it came out.

You break her gaze, finding interest in the tile floors. God, you aren’t good at this. You never have been. 

Something grazes your cheek, so soft that you think that you’re imagining it. 

But then it happens again. 

The third time is firmer, knuckles grazing the apple of your cheek before falling to your jawline. 

Your eyebrows knit together as you take one last look at Sevika, alarmed by her fleeting touch. She allows her hand to linger against your jawline for a few more moments, watching you watch her. Her stormy irises hold a flicker of curiosity in them.

You want to tell her how sorry you are. That you don’t know how everything got so off-track but clearly things needed to be sorted out. That you missed her. That you couldn’t get over her, no matter how much you tried. That she still felt like your home. That you were angry with her because you yearned and ached for her. That she was with you everywhere you went. That because you had lost her, you had lost everything.

But instead, you say, “We need to talk,” Slightly breathless. “...Whenever you’re free. Just you and I.”

An employee makes a muffled announcement on the overhead speaker before the sound of a Maroon 5 song resumes. 

“I was just about to say that.”  Her lip twitches. “I think it’s long overdue, no?”

Blinking through a puzzled daze, you observe the way her eyes flicker over your features. You struggle to fathom that you were just screaming at each other a few days prior. It was confusing to see how much a dynamic could change after a single conversation. You knew that things wouldn’t quite be the same after Ava’s birthday party. You had said too much and the gravity of your words had reached Sevika, that much you knew. But you weren’t sure how things would change exactly.

Her index finger hooks and swiftly brushes your chin. It’s barely even a touch and reminds you of the habit from all those years ago–one of her many affectionate gestures that she would display in passing. “Take care.” She whispers.

She gives Ava one more goodbye kiss and then she walks away.

***

“Hello?” You answer, your voice groggy from just waking up.

“Are you ignoring me?” Your mother replies, not missing a beat. She has a smile on her face despite the accusation though. 

You let out a snort. “No,” But then you allow your brain to track the timeframe it’s been since the last time you’ve talked to her (outside of text message check-ins). Shit. It definitely had been a while. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve just had a lot going on.” You sit up in bed so that you can comfortably rest against your headboard. 

As always, your mom looks perfectly presentable for the day. Considering the differing time-zones that you both resided in, you could confidently assume that she has been up for a few hours already. Her lips sport a bold red, cheeks covered with blush and mascara coated on her lashes. The background behind her looks familiar and you quickly observe that she’s in her living room.

Your mom nods, slow to respond as she surveys you.

“You know I’m not the prying type,” She begins. “But I can already tell that–”

“Mom.” You groan, eyes closing for a split second. “Not today. Please.”

“You always know that you can tell me anything, Hun.”

A drag of silence…

You chew on your lip with relentless fatigue and gnawing guilt.

“And…well, I did talk to Mel a bit. Initially just to get details about her vow renewal but then, naturally, we started talking about you and I know she didn’t want to say too much but…”

Your hand grips your phone due to rising panic. What could Mel have possibly said? There's so much that has occurred since the last time you updated your mom. There was Ava’s birthday, of course, which she sent a birthday text for (and in return you texted your mom a thank you video of you and Ava). But there had also been the topic of your promotion, and Hazel, and the petty drama that had been occurring between you and Sevika which led to the quarrel.

And then there was yesterday. God, you still didn't know how to wrap your brain around it. The running into Sevika at the store, and then the weird energy looming that you still couldn't shake. Why did you invite her to your movie date with Ava? Why did you find it so hard to form proper sentences? Why did you stand so close to her?

Why did she let you? 

“What did Mel say?” You ask. “Like what did she specifically tell you?”

Your mom pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something she shouldn't be telling me?”

“No!” Clearing your throat, you press your free hand against your chest, trying to calm your heart rate. “No,” You repeat, this time more slowly. “I was just curious.”

“Right,” Your mom’s eyes glinted knowingly. “Well,” She continues, voice dropping into her typical vocal fry. “She didn't say much. I could tell she was filtering herself…which meant that I definitely needed to reach out to you. She told me you and Sev were working through some things, but that it was going to be okay.”

Your shoulders relax as you exhale. “Well, Sev and I are always kind of working through things.” You force out a chuckle, trying your best to shove your ex to the back of your mind. You just wanted one day where you didn't have to think about her.

“And nothing else is going on?”

Nothing else worth mentioning. 

But for some reason, you hesitate in replying. Because something surely is going on. Within you, within Sevika, and definitely between you and her. You just don't really understand it. What you do know is that something changed between you two on the night of Ava’s birthday party, and the dynamic that you had grown accustomed to post-divorce has seemed to shift altogether. 

When your mom realizes that you aren't going to answer, she instead asks, “Is Sev okay?”

And your nose wrinkles at that because your mom would know before anyone if Sevika wasn't. Growing up, Sevika not only became close with you but also your mom.When the divorce was finalized, you constantly reminded them that you hoped they still kept in contact; that you didn't want the split to negatively impact the only semblance of a mother-figure that Sevika had left. 

Even to this day, they communicate more consistently than you do with your mom. But even when you and Sevika were together, that had always been the case.

“I don't know, shouldn't you be asking her that?” You say, frowning.

Your mom shrugs. “She tells me she's okay. But I don't know, Hun. I talked to her last night and things were just…off.”

Your frown deepens. “Really?”

“It's nothing to be worried about too much. She was just quieter than usual, is all. She seemed like she had something on her mind.”

You backtrack to yesterday, trying to wrack through all the details of Sevika’s features. 

Your body warms at the memory of her caressing your face, standing merely inches away from you. Why the fuck did that happened?

You’re sure you’ll go crazy if you keep ruminating about yesterday.

“But that's enough of that. I guess the more pressing question on my mind,” Your mom snaps her finger as she begins reaching for something off camera. “I booked a flight that’ll have me arrive in town the day before Mel’s renewal ceremony. Are you okay with me staying at your place? It’ll be a fun girls weekend with Ava. We can plan a bunch of things!”

***

You stare down at the coffee art before you, pressing your palms against the warm porcelain mug. You try counting to 50 again as adrenaline continues to course through your veins. 

“God,” You mumble, exhaling shakily. “We’re really doing this.”

It had been 3 days since you’ve last seen Sevika, which happened to be when you were dropping Ava off at her house for the week. And it was only early this morning when you had finally gained enough courage to text: When are you free so that we can talk? You hadn’t expected her to answer so quickly but she did about 15 minutes later. And, surprisingly, she suggested a timeframe during this evening.

So here you are, sitting in a coffee shop that you hadn’t been in ages, expecting her to arrive at any moment. You had mentioned this specific shop because you remember it being Sevika’s favorite throughout the marriage. 

“Sorry,” The chair across from you scrapes against the floor while being pulled away from the table. “Have you been waiting long?” Sevika sits down swiftly, her breath slightly labored.

You notice that her hair is pulled into a half-up-half down hairstyle. A few strands have escaped, framing her temples perfectly. The grey of her eyes are enhanced by a layer of eyeliner with lips that slightly gleam due to a moisturizer. Her sculpted arms are on full display thanks to her muscle-tank, which appears to be a faded band tee. 

You draw in a breath, wondering if she has any idea the effect that she has on people when wearing eyeliner like that.

Her dark eyes wait for you to respond–so present and so affixed. 

“Um,” You clear your throat, looking back at your cup of coffee. “No, not long.” 

Needing something to do, you take a sip of the beverage, wincing at how unexpectedly sweet it is. Too much creamer.

 “How are you?” You add.

“Okay. And you?”

“Okay.” You pause. “And Ava?”

“She’s well, yeah. She’s with Gert.”

You nearly chuckle at the idea, only imagining how that could be going. Ava has a tendency to boss Gert around, whether it be dressing up or impromptu karaoke or even Disney marathons. Gert didn’t seem to mind but it was always hilarious to see.

“She misses you too,” Sevika continues, voice growing softer. “She always does but more lately, I’ve noticed.”

Your heart warms at the thought. You always felt off during the weeks you didn’t have Ava. Drop off days never got easier. But you’re sure that Sevika must feel the same whenever you have her.

“Did you not want anything?” You gesture to the menu at the end of the table.

“I’m okay. I ate not too long ago.”

A group of friends burst into laughter behind you. You saw them when you first walked inside and they seemed to be about 10 years your junior, maybe college kids. 

The few times you had been here with Sevika, you always remember there being a younger crowd. A community college was located a few blocks away so it was definitely within walking distance. You’ve never had a desire to go to college but you did wish that you had experienced what it was like to have a local hang-out spot like this shop when you were younger. Your hometown was quite small and there weren’t many places to congregate besides church.

“Where did we go wrong?” Sevika questions, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your gaze returns to her and you notice that she’s leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table and hands clasped together. She inspects you with unadulterated curiosity. “I know I had been distant with the funeral and the…grief.”

You grimace, eyes closing on your own accord.

You often tried to block out those dark days. Sevika had been a wreck. She took the death of your father hard. You truly believe that you had grieved his death before it happened. When he announced that he didn’t want to take chemo treatments anymore, you knew that was the beginning of the end. Sevika, on the other hand, had been in complete denial. She even convinced herself that if she showed him the beauty of life again, he’d change his mind. But he didn’t. 

When he passed, you were relieved that he wasn’t in pain anymore. Of course it still hurt but you felt that it was manageable. 

Sevika, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to even get out of bed. She fell into a dark depression, barely eating, barely speaking. It was hard. You hadn’t known how to support her, you hadn’t known how to do anything. Sevika had always been the one to deal with crises better. 

Then you had a miscarriage, which already was a fear of yours due to your struggle with fertility. You having Ava felt like a miracle and when you had become pregnant again, it felt too good to be true.

Your eyes begin to sting as you open them, shaking your head as you say, “We were too young, Sev.”

“Were we really?” Worry lines appear on her forehead. “I refuse to believe that’s the reason. I never doubted marrying you. I never thought there would be a possibility that we’d divorce.”

God, this is the last thing you need to be hearing.

You blink rapidly in response to your blurry vision, wanting desperately for the aching tugs on your heart to cease. You had felt the same too. Your wedding day had always been one of the happiest days of your life, with Ava’s birth being the first. Younger you would constantly annoy Mel with your belief that Sevika was your true love. In turn, Mel would laugh and accuse you of being a hopeless romantic. 

This turn of events would have been described as your worst nightmare a decade ago.

“I’m sorry,” Sevika whispers, her voice cracking. “I need you to know that. I know I was grieving Archie’s death and that it made me impossible. I was drowning. I was hurting and I was so blinded by that hurt that I couldn’t remember you were grieving him too.”

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, tears streaming down your cheeks as she reaches forward and grabs your hands. Her eyes never leave yours and the sight of her tear-stricken expression is devastating. 

“I felt like I lost you.” You respond. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to be there for you and you didn’t let me. I was begging you to let me in. But it just got worse. After the miscarriage, I couldn’t reach you.” 

Despair rips through you at the memory. There were times where you and Sevika didn’t speak to each other for days. The both of you would alternate caring for Ava every day, but you often found yourself sleeping with Ava in her room once night would come, not being able to bear Sevika’s silence any longer. 

The first crucial argument you had with Sevika was 2 weeks after your miscarriage (which had been a total of 6 weeks post your father’s funeral). She would help you whenever you needed, since the miscarriage had been a lot on your body, but mentally she wasn’t present. It was like someone had come and abducted the soul of your wife, leaving you with a corpse. 

Sevika squeezes her eyes shut, head hanging as she registers your words. She continues to firmly grasp your hands, as if she’s afraid of you somehow disappearing. 

“And I was so hurt and so angry with you,” You choke. “When you came back around, I wasn’t ready to fix us.” It had been another month before Sevika started trying to mend the wounds, with considerable help from Mel, Grayson and Gert. They even convinced her to start therapy. “I spent months trying to be there and support you, which you never let me do. But the moment our friends intervened, you listened to them. And I hated you for that. I was so angry. I couldn’t understand how they could get through to you and I couldn’t. On top of that, it felt like you blamed me for the miscarriage. That destroyed me.”

Despite Sevika’s progress and determination to get better, there had been no going back for you. The pair of you had never been the same. You stopped sleeping in the same bed as her permanently, taking residence in the guest bedroom instead. You remember her trying the most during that time but your resistance eventually wore her down. You both had become short tempered and strangers to one another despite living in the same house. 

When discussing this time of your life with Felicity, she suggested that it might have been helpful to enlist in relationship therapy and for you to have started your own individual therapy sessions as well. She had talked about grief and mental health causing marriages to spiral. 

“I want you to work on not beating yourself up about this,” Felicity had said during one of your first sessions with her. “Unfortunately, this happens to couples more than you would think.”

“I felt ashamed,” Sevika explains. “I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I had been so in denial about Archie. And I was upset with myself for being so upset–I felt like I didn’t have a right to be. He was your father, not mine. And I didn’t want to tell you that…I didn’t know how without feeling like I was burdening you. And we were also under the stress of planning the funeral. I just felt like it was best keeping everything to myself. Then we lost the baby and I hated myself. I could never blame you. I felt responsible for what happened, that if I hadn’t been so stressful and burdensome for you then maybe…”

“No. The miscarriage wasn’t your fault. I can’t believe you ever thought that,” You shake your head, suppressing a sob. “And your depression wasn’t what bothered me, I just wanted you to talk to me, no matter how heavy or dark you felt. Supporting you wouldn’t have pushed me away. I just hated that you never gave me a chance. I would have borne the entire world on my shoulders if I knew it would bring you peace.”

A choked exhale leaves Sevika. You can tell she’s spiraling, you can only imagine all that she’s feeling. 

“And you were his daughter too,” Your lips tremble as you duck your head to search for her eyes. She peers at you slowly, eyes bloodshot. “He loved you so so much, Sev. Your grief was and will always be valid.” 

You struggle to stop your mind from reeling at all that she’s said. You thought it would be relieving to have the answers to such questions. And even though it partly is, it’s also gut-wrenching. 

God, had you known any of this…

If only you knew that this was how she was feeling…

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” You croak.

She shakes her head, “You had reason to. I did it first.”

There would be nights when Sevika would visit you in the guest room, pleading you to at least talk to her. You would ignore her. Sometimes you would yell. 

Once the relationship had reached 5 months of pure hell, you stated, “I’m not happy. I don’t think we should be together anymore,” Over breakfast that she had made.

You’ll never forget the way she choked on her bacon, looking at you with panic-stricken eyes. “W-What?”

“I think we should divorce.” 

Secretly, you had wanted her to say something–to say anything–that would deter you. Of course, even uttering the words had hurt you but you didn’t know what else to do. 

With the knowledge that you now have, you're sure that those words broke her completely because instead of convincing you otherwise, she simply finished her breakfast in silence, hands trembling, before she stood up and got ready for work.

Later on that day, you had texted her about affordable lawyers if the situation needed one and she left you on read.

You had wanted her to say no, to declare that she loved you and that she would stick through this rough patch with you. For days you waited but none of that occured.

When you finally filed for the papers and signed them, you had shown her one night when she came home from work. Her reaction had been underwhelming, staring at you for much longer than necessary. You thought she would say something then but she merely turned around and proceeded to climb the staircase.

When you woke up the next morning, she had already left for work. Her signature on the divorce papers was sitting on the dining room table.

“I didn’t know what else to do, Sev.” You explain. “I didn’t know all the things about marriage that I do now. And I was upset with Mom and upset with our friends and upset with the world. All I knew was that Ava deserved better. And when I talked to you about divorcing, I wanted you to stop me. I wanted you to fight me on it, and when you didn’t, I feared that this is something that you actually wanted. I feared that it actually was the end and I had been delusional even thinking you could feel any other way. So I filed for divorce and you hadn’t done anything even then–”

“I didn’t know you still…cared for me,” Sevika finally lets go of your hands, leaning back in her chair as she wipes her cheeks. “I had been fighting for you, and fighting for our marriage and my mental health and you still were so closed off with me. I thought that maybe I deserved it after what you initially had to endure and that you were also struggling due to the miscarriage. I thought that we just had to give it time and that we would warm up to each other again. But then you brought up how unhappy you were and you seemed so…tired. I figured that you had truly given up. I figured that it was a lost cause fighting for someone who didn’t want me anymore.”

You gnaw on your lip, guilt and shame and everything bad rising within you.

The idea of Sevika still wanting you up until the day of the divorce was too much to bear. 

“I know it may never happen,” Sevika murmurs, her hands clasping together again. “But is there ever a time that I may earn your forgiveness?”

Your eyes widen, jaw falling slack. “What?”

“I know. Sorry. That was a dumb question. I–”

“I forgave you years ago, Sev.” You search her face frantically, hoping that she’s joking. Is that the reason she thought you were still angry with her? Did she not understand how you truly feel? “That’s not why I’ve been upset with you. I played an equal role in our divorce. It wasn’t just you.”

Her frown deepens. You’re able to hear how heavy her breathing is now..or is it yours? It’s too hard to tell. 

“Then…” She swallows thickly, clearly confused. “Why?”

Because I still love you.

Because I wish that I held onto you when I had you.

Because it’s hard knowing that we’ll never be the same ever again.

Because you moved on, because I was stupid enough to file for divorce, because I pushed you away instead of pulling you closer.

Because I can’t turn back time. Because you have Hazel now; because you’ve moved on.

Because, even though you’ve moved on, I still want you–now more than ever.

Your lips part, “It’s been misdirected. I’ve been angry with myself.” The explanation feels good enough. It’s still partly the truth. “That’s not fair to you and I’m sorry. I really am working on it.”

Her head tilts, drinking in all of your features. “Weeks ago, at Ava’s party, you told me that you’d never be happy with me dating someone else. All the things you said about Hazel…was that true?”

You scan your brain on what to say, flipping through all the possible scenarios this conversation could end in. Certainly, you hadn’t prepared for this–atleast, not that she would be so direct.

“Um,” You murmur, wetting your lips.

“Because if it’s true, I’ll admit that it’ll frustrate me...the fact that you don’t want me but also don’t want anyone else to have me.”

You buy yourself time by taking another swig of your coffee. Your right foot taps the tile floor anxiously. Sevika waits patiently for you to reply.

“Is she truly who you want?” You find yourself asking. You can’t bring yourself to speak Hazel’s name. “Like, do you see a future with her?”

It felt masochistic to ask such a question but you needed to know.

“Answer my question first.”

Your nose wrinkles, lashes fluttering. Heaving a sigh, you say, “Yes. Everything I said that night was true.” Two weeks ago you would have denied the truth until you were blue in the face. But lying and pretending is what led you here in the first place. Plus, you really needed to put everything out on the table today, even if it caused you discomfort. You want to start tomorrow with a fresh slate; you need to talk about everything with her and finally be transparent.

You watch her head tilt back as she peers up at the ceiling. A stir of unrest fills you while she contemplates. Her lips roll inwards, nostrils flaring while she returns to sitting upright. There’s beauty in the way her jaw tightens from the movement. 

“You could have told me this,” She stresses. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” And although her voice is sharp, you can also hear a layer of hurt too. 

You wince. “I was hurt. I was scared. I was,” Your breath stutters. “Angry. I felt like maybe it wouldn’t matter anyway. I mean, it seems like you’ve been moving on. Also it’s been so long, Sev. I thought that maybe it was best to just shut up and do my best to move on too.”

You aren’t the type to drown yourself in other people when it comes to breakups. Quickly after the split though, you spent 4 months hidden in your mom’s apartment, drinking yourself into delirium instead. You had become incredibly helpless and sad. You had disregarded the split custody order from the court and left Ava with Sevika, knowing that she was better off with her. You had reached an all time low, hating yourself and hating everything else in the world.

Sevika finally showed up to your mom’s house one day, dragging you to the bathroom and bathing you. You thought it was some hallucination. She stayed there with you for two weeks, taking you to doctor appointments and nursing you back to health. The detox was the worst. Your mom took care of Ava in the meantime. That time in your life was blurry.

You remember the words of encouragement your Mom whispered to you at the airport. Then she was hugging Ava and Sevika, whispering things to Sevika that you never heard. But you know they were emotional. When you both finally arrived back in town, Sevika asked you to stay with her. But you hadn’t been ready to confront the bleak months in that house that led up to the divorce. So you declined, instead rooming with Gert until you got your shit together and was able to secure an apartment big enough for you and Ava.

Everything involving your split with Sevika had often been too heavy and painful to think about, let alone bring up in a conversation with her. But you knew that you should have done this sooner. 

“I don’t see a future with Hazel,” She finally replies. She keeps her gaze lowered, observing the marble tabletop as she traces it with her index finger. “It’s not like that with her. I had wanted it to be for a while but we’ve agreed that it’s better if it remains…casual.”

Casual.

A huff escapes you.

Hazel had been introduced to the friend group. She had met Ava and there’s a few selfies of her now on Sevika’s instagram page (not that you’ve been keeping track). How could that ever be considered casual?

“Well, I didn’t invite you here to talk about Hazel. So as long as you're happy and okay, then that’s what matters.” You state, downing the rest of your coffee. You inhale deeply and for the first time in nearly forever, you feel lighter. 

It doesn’t feel hard to exist in front of Sevika. Of course, your body is still struggling to process all that was discussed but you no longer feel paralyzed with affliction. 

“Do you ever think we’ll be okay with each other again?” Sevika asks.

“I don’t know but I want to be.”

A pause. Then, “Friends may seem like a longshot but I would love to try to work towards that.”

Your lip twitches, an unexpected flood of relief filling you. Of course, it’s not a solution that you often dream about but it’s better than the way things have been.

And it's certainly better than losing her completely.

Friendship would have to do. 

You force a smile, giving her a nod. “I’d love that.”

[sevsgiirl]

PART TWO

summary: in which you and sevika are divorced. read part one here. part three will be published soon.

word count: 4055

thanks for reading!

~~~

You try to soak in the feeling of the sun against your skin. A few feet away, a round of giggles erupt which is followed by a big splash of water. 

“Mommy, look!”

You tilt your head and glance towards your right. Ava is seated in a kiddie pool with a bright purple sand bucket in her hand. She smiles sweetly. Then, without much warning, she dumps the bucket over Liana. 

Liana squeals, her voice muffled by the bucket. She holds her hands out, clawing the air while yelling, “No fair!” over and over again.

You suppress a laugh. “Be careful you two!”

They ignore you, splashing around in glee. 

“She seems to be doing better,” Mel, your best friend, murmurs. Her eyes are closed as she sits beside you on a lawn chair. “Is she still having nightmares?”

You allow your gaze to travel back to your daughter. This is a subject you had hoped to avoid. It’s not like you can’t talk about such a thing with Mel. You could always bare your soul to her, even when your divorce had wreaked havoc in the friend group. But you also feel like your life is always stirring with chaos. You didn’t want to think about much of anything today.

“She’s better, yeah.” You reply. 

Ava embraces Liana in a hug, screaming the lyrics to a song that plays on the stereo speakers.

You love moments like this; moments where Ava and Liana’s budding friendship reminds you of your youth with Mel. You feel lucky to be able to have mother-daughter dates with your best friend; a reality you two always chatted about but never thought would actually come true. Not only is it a miracle to have daughters the same age but also for them to love each other so dearly.

“We sing to her when tucking her in,” You continue, clearing your throat. “It helps.”

You thank the Gods that it does. It would absolutely destroy you when you would wake to the sound of Ava’s screaming and crying. It was even worse when she’d make her way into your room and be hysterical. There had been countless doctor visits and endless days filled with anxiety as you tried to find the answer that would cease Ava’s nightmares. 

It was sickening when you found out that the sole reason was because of your divorce. 

“A change like this can be hard on children,” The doctor had explained. “It’s a big loss for them and can spike feelings of uncertainty, abandonment, sadness and confusion. But rest assured that although this may be hard for Ava in the long run, there are measures you can take to ensure that she still has a healthy and happy childhood.”

That doctor visit triggered a breakdown so bad that you had to call Sevika. She arrived quickly, of course, and had no issues driving you to your house. She even called Mel so that your car could be retrieved.

After she walked you to your door, promising that she could take Ava to her place for the night, she muttered, “Please don’t do this to yourself,” You weren’t able to see her clearly. Your vision was blurred, head pounding and eyes puffy. But you could hear the worry in her voice. “I know you’re going to beat yourself up about this but we’ll find a way through this. Ava will be okay.”

Needless to say, it took forever for you to believe those words. Sevika’s always been better at handling difficult times. You admire that about her. 

You were the complete opposite. You grew anxious easily and worried constantly. You always thought about the worst case scenario and you always preferred the easier solution if one existed.

“That’s good to hear.” Mel replies, pulling you out of your reverie. You blink and finally turn towards her. “...Also, I forgot to tell you but I was talking to Sev a few days ago and she mentioned her invitation to the vow renewal..”

And just like that, your mouth sours.

Mel was always good at swiftly changing the subject.

“Ah,” You swallow. Mel and Grayson, another one of your close friends, are renewing their vows soon. They’ve always been the sort of couple to loudly celebrate their love. It’s endearing and if you think too long about it, you’ll grow emotional. 

It’s just the thought of attending such a ceremony with Sevika present–knowing that merely 4 years ago you were certain the two of you would be in the same position–is what causes your stomach to drop.

“I think she just wanted to make sure that I was okay with Hazel attending…” Mel continues. You feel the heavy weight of her gaze on you. She doesn’t say anything more, voice trailing off in the way that you hate.

“Well, is that something you’re okay with?”

Mel shrugs. “Depends.”

“On?”

She doesn’t answer. You feel a grunt leave you, eyes rolling due to your growing agitation.

God, you hate this feeling.

You hate the way she’s peering at you; with caution and pity as if she’s afraid you’ll explode any second. Sevika isn’t yours anymore. She hasn’t been for a long, long while. She can be with whoever she wants. And she doesn’t need your permission. It’s not like you necessarily care anyways. You had your own life to worry about, with your own desires and love-life to tend to. 

You wish that everyone would stop treating you as if you’re the sorry ex that can’t move on.

“I don’t particularly care for Hazel, you know.” Mel admits. “I mean, she seems like a sweet girl. And they’ve been together long enough. But if they were to break-up tomorrow, I wouldn’t be bothered.”

A snort leaves you, “You better not say that shit to Sev.”

“Oh please, I’m sure she can smell the quiet judgement wafting off the rest of us from a mile away.”

True. Your friendship group–which consisted of you, Mel, Graysen, Sevika and Gert–were many things. But the one thing no one did was bullshit each other. You had heard of the disagreements that Mel and Gert had with Sevika (upon finding out that she was dating Hazel). As always, Greysen sided with Sev and scolded everyone about crossing boundaries and minding everything but their own fucking business. And whilst this was all happening, you did your best to keep your mouth shut and keep your head down. The issues that you had with Sevika had made their way to the friendship circle plenty of times, but this was different.

“It’s her life, Mel.” You mumble. “You gotta let her live it. And if it’s with Hazel…Well..”

She huffs. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

Your heart drops. You blink rapidly, teeth grinding. 

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to say that.” She concedes. Her hand reaches for yours. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it, Mel. Don’t worry.”

Compared to your other friends, Mel has struggled the most with not only your divorce, but everything that came before it. Before it all ended, things were dark. Incredibly dark. It’s hard for you to think about those times and the part that you played in it. 

“It’s done. There’s no going back. It’s been years, Mel.” You glance at her again, force a smile. “We should be happy for Sev. They seem pretty serious.”

Mel regards you for a few moments. There’s a glint of sadness in her round brown eyes. 

It feels like hours of silence filled with pity before she says, “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

That familiar ache takes root in your chest.  You do your best to ignore it.

“Mommy!” Ava calls. The interruption sends a wave of relief through you. “Watch this.”

~~~

“Happy birthday to you,” You croon. “Happy birthday to you.”

You smile at Ava, cheeks wet with tears and throat lodged. Your chest is full of heart tugs, complete adoration filling you.

Your friends clap excitedly, singing along while Ava giggles. 

“Happy birthday dear Ava!” 

The singing alone causes more tears to escape your eyes.

“Happy birthday to you!”

A quiet sob leaves you. 

Each birthday is always an emotional one. “It gets a bit easier as the years pass by,” Your mom always tells you. You can confirm that Ava’s first two birthdays were by far the hardest. But even today, you find yourself wrecked by the gut-wrenching milestone.

Your daughter, clothed in a royal pink princess dress, leans both hands against the table-top as she puffs out air. There’s a lit-up candle in the shape of the number 5 that’s been placed on her birthday cake. After a few failed attempts, she finally manages to blow out the flame. 

“Ever the emotional one, you are.” Grayson mumbles beside you. Her hand rubs soothing circles into your back as she kisses your temple. 

“She’s growing too fast!”

Grayson suppresses a chuckle, “I know.”

“I just want one piece–for me and Liana!” Ava demands, clapping her hands together. She peers at Mel with large hopeful eyes. You can already tell that she’s daydreaming about the sugar rush yet to come.

Mel laughs, “You don’t want one just for yourself?”

“It’s better when we share, Mom.” Liana interjects, her voice thick with sass. She’s in a chair that’s situated to the right of Ava. 

Mel peers at you for a split second, expression morphing into a mixture of amusement and disbelief. You shrug your shoulders. 

“All right.” Mel sighs. “But don’t eat it too quickly. You’ll get sick.” The girls cheer.

Right then, your doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it.” You call.

Swiftly, you make your way through the dining space and living room. Your place was fairly small–a two bedroom apartment that consisted of one bathroom and an open-space layout. It was cost-efficient, something that you definitely needed after the divorce, and gave you the fresh start that you desperately needed. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the country house with acres of land that Sevika had. But it was home.

You swing the door open without looking through the peep-hole, already having an idea of who could be standing on the other side.

“You’re late,” You greet.

Gert embraces you immediately, your vision momentarily clouded by her lightning blue locs. “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” She begins. “It was solely because of me. I promise.”

When Gert pulls away, you’re able to see the expression of remorse plastered onto her features. Gert’s a muscular and stocky woman, a few inches shorter than you, with dark brown skin that’s practically littered with freckles and tattoos. She has a few distinctive features, which consist of a scar above her top lip and two eyebrow piercings. 

“Mhm,” You hum. You cross your arms, peering at her with playful disapproval. “We’ve just started cutting the cake. You should go and make amends with the birthday girl. She’s asked about you twice already.”

Gert swears underneath her breath. As you side-step, you notice that she’s holding a hot pink bag with confetti tissue paper. She shoots you another repentant smile before brushing past you. 

That leaves you with Sevika, who’s still clad in her dark-washed jeans and crème button up from earlier today. The pair of you always split the day in half when celebrating Ava's birthday. Last year, you spent the first half of the day with your daughter, so it’s only fair for the roles to be reversed this year. Sevika had picked Ava up at 8am sharp and dropped her off about two hours ago, explaining that she had to run an errand before coming back with Gert. 

It was last week when you finally had the courage to invite Sevika to Ava’s party (in an effort to improve on this coparenting system). You were surprised when she accepted the invite without hesitation. You hadn’t celebrated Ava’s birthday with her since before the divorce. 

“It took 10 minutes to wake her and another 20 for her to get ready,” Sevika explains, letting out a huff of air. Her voice is husky, like always, but also dripping with agitation. “I tried my best to get her here on time.”

She sways backwards on her heels before centering her weight and shoving her hands into her pockets. That's when you truly allow yourself to examine the small changes in her. Her body is leaner, solid bands of muscle wrapping around her quads. You can see them flex through the material of her jeans; very tangible evidence of her last few months in the gym. Her cheekbones are sharper, jawline a tantalizing glistening edge that–you’re absolutely positive–could invite the attention of any queer woman. 

But beyond that, you also notice a change in her hair. 

You hadn't seen much of her this morning, since you were still groggy when she picked up Ava and her hair was hidden underneath a snapback. But now, it was fully out and visible, and oh boy did you notice a difference.

Her dark brown hair used to fall in waves like thick satin curtains on the sides of her face. But now horizontal sections have been cut into layers, choppy yet connected all the same. Feathery strands frame her face in a way that you’ve never seen before.

Her head tilts slightly, the grey swirls in her eyes darkening as time ticks by. There’s some tendrils that blow in the wind, a few brush against her cheeks. 

Surely, you had been staring for far too long because she eventually quirks an eyebrow. 

“You cut your hair,” You manage to say. 

“Yeah...” She contemplates for a second.

“It’s…nice.”

Slowly, her features change. The corners of her mouth twitch, eyes squinting as she tries–and fails–to stifle a laugh. “Uh, thanks?”

“What? Are you allergic to compliments now?”

“Not necessarily. You just look like you’re in pain, like it’s killing you to be nice to me.”

You lean your right shoulder against the frame of the doorway, pulling your eyes away from her hair. “Normal people say thank you when receiving compliments, you know. Then they move on with their day.”

She breaks out into a grin, brilliantly showcasing her shiny bright teeth which contrast beautifully against her dark full lips. The smile is far too large and mocks you just the way she intends. “Thank you,” She replies, voice uncharacteristically sweet. Your eye twitches. She notices and snickers.

“You annoy me.”

“Really?” She takes a few steps forward. “God, I had no idea.” You side-step, allowing her to comfortably walk into the apartment.

“That’s the last compliment you’ll ever hear from me, FYI.” You close the front door and lock it. 

“Thank God. I was beginning to worry that you were in love with me or something.”

You snort and roll your eyes as you secure the bolt latch. To your surprise, Sevika is still waiting for you when you turn around.

“You have Hazel for that.”

And suddenly, it’s like some sort of invisible boundary has been crossed; like mentioning Hazel was the ultimate offense.

You almost feel as if you’re experiencing whiplash due to how strong reality smacks you in the face.

Because, for a small moment, it had almost felt like you and Sevika had traveled back in time to years prior; when you could speak to her without an argument erupting. When times were good and none of the bad felt heavy enough to break you. 

 But that was then.

And this is now.

And you’re no longer hers, just like she’s no longer yours.

She’s Hazel's.

Sevika's smile fades as quickly as it came.

A round of laughter erupts from the living room. 

Then, “Are you guys okay?” Mel inquires, voice traveling throughout the apartment.

“Yeah, just a moment.” You say. A few seconds pass before you add, “Ava’s waiting for us.” Your voice is quieter when directing the latter sentence towards Sevika. Your gaze travels away from her.

The tension in the air is palpable, you can nearly taste it on the tip of your tongue. The weight of her stare nearly becomes unbearable. You do your best to calm your heart rate and to look anywhere but her. 

“Did you mean it?” She questions. “A few weeks ago…when you said that you’re happy for me?”

Oh, God. Not this. Not now.

Your weight shifts. You blink. The palms of your hands rub against your pants.

Another wave of laughter sounds from the living room.

“Why?” Your lips part, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Does it matter?”

There's movement; your eyes dart to the way that she steps forward. Reactively, you step backwards, body coming in contact with the front door.

You can't fathom exactly what's happening. You don't understand why she's asked such a thing, and you don't understand why she had to do so now. You don't understand why you're reacting like this; why the feeling of her mere presence suddenly makes you want to cry. 

But what you do know is that the pair of you have been conversing more than necessary, and that your daughter is in the next room…waiting for you to celebrate her. 

“Ava's waiting for us,” You repeat. “Look, Sev, I don't know what your intentions are but I really don’t think now is the time for th—”

“I have no ill-intent. Never with you.” 

“Okay, then,” Your hands flail around mindlessly as you grow impatient. “So?”

“...So, if the idea of me being with Hazel doesn't make you happy…Then—”

“Then, what?” Just like that, something within you snaps. “Let me get this straight. You fuck girl after girl, parading them around while I have to watch. And then, after randomly deciding to settle down with this girl that you barely even know...You decide to play house with her-”

“Wait. This-”

“...You beg me to be cordial to her…you beg me to be happy for you—give you my blessing—And despite it being just as fucked up as it sounds, and despite it being the farthest from the fucking truth, I give in. I agree. I tell you that I'm happy for you. I practically give you my blessing to run off into the sunset with her. And now, only after the fact, you finally decide to consider how I may feel?” Your eyes are burning and you’re well aware that you're shouting—that everyone else can hear you. But you can't stop yourself. 

“What if I say that I lied to you?” You continue. “What if I admit that I do hate the girl—bless her soul because I know that she isn't inherently doing anything wrong—But let's say I take it all back. That, actually, I'm not happy for you. That I don't like her—that I never will. That there's nothing you can possibly say or do that will change my mind…that will convince me that she is what you need. That will convince me she is…good enough for you…” Fuck. You have absolutely lost it. “How will you answer to that?”

Silence.

Gut wrenching silence. 

Then, “I don't know what you expect of me.” Sevika retorts. “You filed for divorce against my wishes. You're the one that left me. You're the one who signed the papers and disappeared for 4 fucking months.” You flinch, not expecting her bite to be as intense as your bark. “And when it was all finalized, when we agreed to try to be on good terms, I did what anyone would do. I tried to move on. You don't get to hate me for that. I tried to be understanding and I knew from the very moment that you met her that she’d never win you over. In the back of my mind, I knew it was unrealistic to ask you to be happy for me. But then you said it—I didn't think you would but you did. I don't know why you did. God, I have no idea why the hell you would- ”

“I did it for you!” Your voice reaches an embarrassingly high decibel, so much so that it cracks. Every inch of your body is hot, hands shaking as you push her—no, pull her? You aren't sure. Your hands grab onto the material of her button-up, both pushing and pulling—seemingly floundering. “You say jump, I ask how high.” You continue, suppressing a sob. “14 years we were together and you still don't understand? That I can never truly be happy that you're with someone else?”

Her hands envelop around your wrist. At first, you think she’s going to push you away. But she doesn't. Instead, she clings onto them, holding them against her chest, peering at you with wide eyes. You can see the gears shifting in her brain, realization dawning on her.

“And yet,” She mumbles, voice thick with bewilderment. “You still signed the papers and left.”

It was a mistake.

You fucked up.

You don't know how to fix it.  You don't know if you can. But you sure as well couldn't stand the sight of her with someone else. And you don't think you will ever be able to.

“You signed them too,” You bite back.

“I had no other choice. I thought you wanted me to!”

“I wanted you to fight for me!” 

And there it is—the confession that you swore you'd never tell her. You had convinced yourself you’d take it to the grave; that you would rather deal with the guilt and hate yourself than devastate her with the truth. 

And based on the way she’s currently gaping at you, unadulterated horror displayed on her features, you know that your reason to withhold such information had been correct. You've been desperately trying to avoid this—to avoid hurting Sevika in such a way. This would eat her alive; to know that there was a possibility, even the slightest, in her changing your mind—in her saving the marriage? Yeah, that would nearly break her.

It’s one thing for you to live with that guilt—it was partly your fault after all. You were terrified and you ran, as fast as you could, towards the nearest solution possible (which, unfortunately, happened to be a divorce). It was the easiest escape route; the safest one.

But also the wrong one.

You filed for the divorce and regretted it immediately. But then Sevika had called your bluff, she thought that you were 100% sure and she signed the papers. 

So you left.

“What?” She whispers, voice thick with emotion.

Behind her, you see the silhouette of an approaching figure. It's Mel.

Quickly, you rip your arms out of Sevika’s grip. She doesn't resist, eyes never leaving you as she appears to be shell-shocked. 

“What?” She echoes again, eyes becoming glossy. “No.” She’s shaking her head. “You're lying.”

“Guys,” Mel interjects, voice gentle. “I think we need to take a br-”

“You're fucking lying!” Sevika rasps. Mel flinches, eyes closing momentarily. 

Another person emerges—Grayson. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Sevika’s desperation is the last straw. A sob rips through you, vision blurring as a pair of hands rest on your back.

“Oh honey,” Grayson mutters. “Let's take a breather.”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” The sound of Sevika’s pleads are what you imagine to be pure grief personified.

You barely register Mel taking Sevika outside after that, whispering words that’ll surely comfort her in no time. Mel was always good at consolation.

Meanwhile, Grayson leads you to the restroom. There's still an ocean of heart-breaking wailing that echoes off the walls, which you start to realize is coming from you.

“Ava—” You hiccup. “Liana—” 

“Gert snuck them out through the patio for an ice-cream run,” Grayson explains, voice remaining soft. “...That was about 20 minutes ago. They wouldn't stop asking and it seemed like you two were talking about some pretty serious stuff.”

Another sob.

“Oh, hun.” Greyson sighs. “It's gonna be okay. You have all of us here,” She returns to rubbing circular motions into your back. “Please remember that. It's gonna be okay.”

But the cruel reality is that you're divorced from the love of your life, with no certainty that you'll be able to find your way back to her.

So, no—you're pretty sure that things will not, in fact, be okay.

And you only have yourself to blame for that.

[sevsgiirl]

PART ONE

summary: in which you and sevika are divorced. read part two here.

word count: 3368

content: this is a second chance romance with divorcees. it will be a heavier read than roommate!sevika and coworker!sevika is. topics of angst, smut, heavy drinking, mental illness, parental death, grief, miscarriage and infertility will be dealt with throughout the story.

this will be a multi-part story. there will be more chapters to this story than any sevika story i've written before. I feel very passionate about the two mc's. I hope you enjoy the beginning of what has been a very emotional rollercoaster ride.

thanks for reading!

~~~

The grass is high, tickling your calves as you stroll through the front yard. Ava sits on your right hip while her head rests perfectly in the crook of your neck. The feeling of her exhales, steady and soft, reminds you of her peaceful slumber. There's a slight burn in your biceps, which is unfortunately due to her rapid growth (your brain struggles to catch up with the passing time). Your heart squeezes at the mere thought and you try to scribble this moment into your hippocampus. This is something you need to remember. Time is not on your side–it was so much easier to hold her merely months ago. 

Cicadas buzz in the air and moisture sticks to your skin from the lingering humidity of rainfall. Your strides are leisure—slow–as if to drag out each step to your car. And you know that secretly, in the back of your mind, this is because you’re hyper aware of the woman, Sevika, who walks beside you. You match her pace with ease. Despite the string of silence between you two, the way in which your existence syncs with hers is second-nature. Out of the corner of your eye, you observe how her hands remain in her pockets, head hung low. She watches the ground with each step, a habit of hers that you still find interesting years later. Her boots make a soft thud against the soil. The air is mixed with the earthy scent of wet grass and the spicy cologne that oozes off of her.

When the both of you reach your car, she’s the first one to speak. “Keys?” She asks, voice nothing more than a slight murmur. She doesn’t meet your eyes, gaze flitting from the ground to Ava.

“Purse.” You whisper, displaying an equal amount of tender care to not wake your daughter.

When you first arrived at Sevika’s house, you forgot to unhook your car keys before she placed Ava in your arms. It isn’t common that your daughter is sleeping when you pick her up. But the two of you know that it’s always better to not disrupt her slumber during changeovers. 

You shift your body so that your left shoulder is facing Sevika, displaying the faded red purse that sits on your shoulder. 

For a few seconds, you find yourself searching for the moment that Sevika comes in contact with you. Surely an accidental graze of the skin or shifting of your purse would be a telltale sign of her presence. But instead you encounter nothing but stillness. She somehow manages to unclip your carabiner of keys with grace, careful not to make much noise. Careful not to touch you.

Surrounding trees bustle in the wind while she unlocks your car. She opens the backdoor quietly, watching Ava with fond eyes. Your daughter doesn’t stir.

It’s an all familiar rhythm–the way that you and Sevika work to place Ava into her carseat. Sevika is always thorough in buckling her in; double checking the snugness of the straps, triple checking the buckle placements and that the seat is anchored. You start the car and roll down all the windows, so that fresh air wafts throughout the vehicle for your daughter. Then you pull your keys out of the ignition and clip them against one of your belt loops. Silently, you step outside of the car and close the driver door. Sevika whispers a quiet goodbye to Ava, kissing the child on the cheek before joining you.

“How was she?” You ask.

“Fine.”

“Did you remember to sing to her while tuckin-”

“Yes.” Her voice is curt.

“...And the candy.” You continue. Within the last few weeks, you noticed that Ava had been asking about candy frequently, in which she admitted that Mama (Sevika) always has. After talking to Sevika about it, you both had come to an agreement that nutritious meals weren’t being prioritized. Sevika did not hesitate to assure you that changes would be made. 

So did you have any reason to be pestering her about it weeks later? You could probably come up with a bullshit excuse. But you have to admit that the necessity of it is useless. Just like your desire to remind her about Ava’s bedtime routine and all the other bickering you’ve instigated during changeovers in the past. 

“I know you like giving it to her,” You hate how bitter you sound. “But we agreed last time that she should not be excessively consuming it…so much that-”

“I’m capable of feeding her meals, you know.” Sevika’s jawline becomes visible then, eyes flashing. 

“With food that isn’t junk?” You regret the words right after they slip from your tongue. But it’s too late to backtrack.

“I don’t know if the divorce gave you memory loss but it seems I must remind you that our daughter, and you, never went a day without me cook–”

“Look, I’m just holding you accountable.”

Sevika’s nostrils flare. “If I had known that you would be in such a shit mood, I would have had–”

“Not in a shit mood at all.”

Her lips roll inwards, rubbing together and creating deep etches into her cheeks. She’s all fire–warmth emanating off of her and meeting you. You know that you’re on thin ice; probing and pushing her with no valid reason. There’s only so much that a human can take when interacting in the way that you two do. This has always been an issue. But it seems to have worsened over the years.

“Ava is well fed here. ” She finally responds. “...We take good care of her.”

And there it is–the clip of her words…the quiet storm that always seems to be creeping up on her whenever the both of you hold a conversation longer than a minute.

But it doesn’t hurt you like it used to. Because you find yourself lingering on the latter sentence she uttered…

We take good care of her.

Your eyebrow raises before you can help it, folded arms tightening around your chest. “We?” You mutter.

A simple word; one that a passerby wouldn’t bat an eye at.

But with you it holds weight and Sevika knows it does. 

It’s her well-kept weapon that she draws out during the moments where it seems to count the most. 

The insinuation is so small that it shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t annoy you. 

It’s been years, after all. It’s only natural for this to happen. 

But it does hurt and it does annoy you.

A small part of you fears that it always will.

Sevika looks directly at you for the first time today. Her eyes swirl with a turbulent grey that used to completely disembody you. In the past, when her gaze would meet you with such intensity, you would grab whatever limb of hers that you could. You would smile. You would pull her towards you until your breath mixed with hers. You would kiss her and you would wish to the Gods that she never looked at you any differently.

But that was then.

And this is now.

And you can’t stand those eyes–that stare. It’s too much. 

Too annoying. Too familiar. Too provoking.

Just like all the times before, the weight of her stare nearly causes your lungs to combust. You become aware of the beads of sweat sliding down your temples and the thick humidity dancing in the air. You force yourself to look away. 

“Are we circling back to this conversation?” Sevika rasps. “Again?”

Out of instinct, your eyes roll. “Depends. I’d like to know that you can feed our daughter without relying on–”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“...I mean, if she’s like the housewife, or whatever, fine. That’s your business. Fuck who you want. But–”

“You’re relentless.”

“My mind would be much more at ease if I knew that you could spend quality time with our daughter, that you could love and care for her and feed her without the presence of your latest fuck swooping in and thinking that they can mother Ava better than–”

Abruptly, as if God herself was teasing you, a voice interjects with, “Honey!”

The source comes from meters away, right from the stairs that lead to Sevika’s porch. Hazel, Sevika’s latest girlfriend, waves at the pair of you. She’s clad in another one of her skin-tight activewear sets. It’s the kind that hugs every curve of her body. She’s a beautiful woman, always seeming as if she's just left a pilates class despite there being zero evidence of sweat or exhaustion on her face. Sevika has great taste. If you didn't know Hazel and spotted her at the bar, she would definitely be on your radar.

She’s sweet enough, never seeming to have any ill intent towards you (or Ava) whenever she graces your presence. But you’re still wary of her. 

You’re wary of all the girls that Sevika involves herself with.

Hazel winces as she walks across the front yard to meet the both of you. Her feet sport hot pink flip flops, which probably isn’t the best choice of footwear given the heaps of mud and wet soil.

“Has Hazel been with you the whole week?” You inquire, managing to keep your voice low enough so that only Sevika can hear.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“I need to know that my daughter is–”

“Bullshit.” Sevika’s weight shuffles beside you, the soles of her boots kicking nearby rocks. You don’t look at her. “I’m careful. I always will be. You know this.”

Hazel’s growing presence insinuates that this conversation will be coming to an end soon. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve badgered Sevika about Hazel. You wish that you could be the sort of ex that’s accepting of…all of this. You wish that you didn’t have to be the person that gets the last word–the one that’s desperate to injure her as much as you’ve been injured. You wish that your words didn’t turn to venom–that your questions didn’t bleed with accusations. 

But that isn’t realistic. Not after everything that’s occurred. 

However, you do know that you aren’t being reasonable. You could blame it on the fact that it’s been another week lost without your daughter, which always makes you feel crabby and in turn is causing you to lash out. You could blame it on the fact that you didn’t eat much today, caught up in the busyness of work, which is now catching up to you.

A multitude of reasons exist and are equally sound enough.

But it doesn’t matter. Because you’re out of line and you know it.

Sevika has always been a great mother. Despite the issues between you two, despite the messy divorce and the (oftentimes) heated coparenting, you know that she always puts Ava first. Sevika’s motherhood is a badge of honor that she’ll forever wear. That’s what made the two of you try for Ava, after all. 

“And the we thing,” Sevika adds. “It was me chatting shit. You annoy me with that…the nagging.”

“You’re so fucking petty,” You hiss. Despite the insult, you can’t help but laugh.

A few seconds of silence pass. Then, “I know you get anxious when Ava’s gone, but you know full well that I implement every single thing we talk about. And I’d appreciate if you could just trust me–”

Your lips are chapped and your tongue swipes them out of habit. A heavy sigh escapes you, muscles unspooling. “Sev,” You begin, eyes fluttering. “I get it. In the back of mind, I have no doubts that-”

“Babe, you didn't tell me that Ava was getting picked up today. I would have given her a hug.” Hazel interjects, reaching the both of you. She meets Sevika with a kiss on the cheek, before wrapping an arm around your ex’s waistline. Before Sevika can reply, Hazel turns to you. She flashes an award-winning smile. “It’s always a pleasure to see you,” She adds.

You wish you could be as saccharine. Instead, your mouth merely twitches.

“Hazel,” You greet.

Her smile falters for a millisecond, her eyes flash with something you struggle to discern. 

“Ava’s sleeping,” You continue. “But if you two are still together when I drop her off next week, you can give her a hug then.”

More silence. It's awkward. It always is when Hazel comes around.

You catch Sevika’s gaze once more. She tongues her cheek, glaring at you with eyes of steel.

You’re being a bitch. 

Hazel clears her throat, not knowing what to say. 

You hate to admit that it seems like a victory somehow.

That’s when you open your car door, desperately wanting to escape.

You feel like you’re suffocating.

You ignore the (small) stomach drop in embarrassment at the way your door squeaks (when was the last time you greased the hinges?) and instead purse your lips.

“I can pick her up next week,” Sevika mutters. “I’ll be on that side of town anyways, so it’ll probably be easier.”

“Okay.”

You climb into your car, grimacing at the warm surface of your leather seats. You sit your purse down in the passenger seat, turning around to glance at Ava. She’s still sound asleep, shoulders rising and falling with each puff of air. The hard exterior of your heart momentarily fades. You’d do anything for her to forever be this peaceful.

Your engine rumbles as it turns on, the slight hum of the radio filling the speakers while you click your seatbelt into place. Meanwhile, you’re well aware that Hazel is already walking in the opposite direction towards the house. You’re well aware that this is because of you.

You make a mental note to bring up today’s events in your next therapy session.

Sevika lingers behind, approaching your car like a gloomy cloud on a sunny day.

“Whatever the fuck that was,” She snaps. “You don’t get to do it again.”

You hate that she’s right.

Your heart constricts and a lump in your throat begins to form. 

You hate her.

You hate everything about this.

“I get it,” You finally respond, swallowing thickly. “Sorry.”

“I’m serious,” She adds. “You don’t get to do this. Not after…” She trails off and you flinch. “I won’t deal with this shit.”

“Okay, Sev. I know. I’m sorry.” And you are. The overwhelming waves of guilt always seem to hit you when it’s too late.

Granted, Sevika isn’t innocent either. She’s far from innocent. But you know that even after everything that’s happened, you don’t have a right to be like this. She doesn’t deserve it. 

“I know you would like her if you tried.” This time, Sevika’s voice has lowered multiple degrees. There’s a slight plea in her voice. It only appears when she’s at her wits’ end. 

“Is she like,” Another deep breath. “...Is it serious with her?”

She doesn’t immediately answer. She first studies your face profoundly, as if she’s searching for any sign of disingenuous intent. 

You can’t help but notice how she smells���the familiar scent that surrounds you is something that you could practically identify in your sleep.

Sweat trickles down the sides of her face, down her neck, dampening the cloth of her tank top. Her shoulders gleam with a thin sheen of perspiration. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, away from her face, but a few tendrils have still managed to escape. 

The humidity has the same effect on you but you doubt you look as good as she does. 

And despite your familiarity with Sevika’s features, you notice that there’s something different about her. It’s become more visible within the last month.

Although her interactions towards you are consistently hostile, you have been able to detect the life in her gaze throughout the last few weeks. She frowns less. And her face is a bit slimmer; a telltale sign that she’s back in the gym.

From time-to-time, you find yourself scrolling through Sevika’s instagram. Usually her feed consists of posts that refer to her mother-daughter dates with Ava (although she’s adamant about not posting your daughter on the web). But there’s a picture in particular that’s been nagging you, in which Hazel is hanging off of Sevika’s side while they stand in front of a body-sized mirror that displays a public gym. 

The post has hundreds of likes, thanks to the popular presence that Sevika has online (even though she takes awkward selfies with cheesy captions). You’re sure that almost all sapphics that have access to the digital world are following her. Sevika is, undeniably, the most attractive person you’ve ever met.

So you aren’t shocked by the numerous comments on her latest post, calling her and Hazel extremely hot and couple goals and the ultimate gay awakening.

In fact, you hate that you agree with said comments.

You’re the complete opposite of Hazel, after all.

A gym date would have never been your reality during the marriage.

“Why can’t you just say that you’re happy for me?” Sevika asks. “That you wish me well?”

You should be able to say that.

Ideally, you should want that. 

You were childhood sweethearts after all; lovers for over a decade. Wives. 

And before everything got worse, before it all truly turned to shit, that’s what you both agreed on.

When the divorce was finalized and the split custody was granted, you two had vowed to still support each other–to still cheer each other on. To still be happy for one another. Because there was too much history, too many shared memories and years and it was all too important to just throw it away for the sake of being petty.

You don’t know how you both got so off-track.

You don’t know how everything completely dissipated in 3 years. 

You don’t know if you’d ever be able to fathom this outcome.

But as you sit there looking at Sevika, you do know that whatever she’s doing–it’s working for her. Whether it truly has something to do with Hazel, or whether she’s trying to turn a new leaf, it’s showing. She looks healthier. 

She looks happier.

Your eyes burn and begin to flutter. You clasp your hands together, squeezing them whilst they rest in your lap. 

Like always, she notices.

Her lips part, a simple action that calls your attention like blaring alarm bells. Her cupid's bow is quite pronounced, a tantalizing feature of her full lips. “Hey,” And she tilts her head, approaching closer. 

“Does she make you happy?”

There’s a glint of bewilderment in her eyes. She blinks slowly, shaking her head in a cautious manner. The seconds tick by with apprehension, as if the air itself is questioning your motives. “...I don’t…what?”

“Does she make you happy?”

Her brows furrow. You can hear how hollow her breathing is. She looks at you with a question in her eyes. “Hazel’s… good for me.”

You wait for her to say something more, anything at this point, but she doesn’t. 

Hazel’s good for me.

The wind picks up again, a cool breeze meeting your cheeks as nearby trees join the conversation with the sound of dancing leaves. 

Hazel’s good for me.

“Well,” The nails of your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms. “Then I’m happy for you.” A half truth. Your voice warbles but you're able to say it with enough conviction. “And I wish you well.”

Those eyes of hers…

They search and search and search.

You aren’t sure what she’s looking for.

You aren’t even sure why she’s reacting like this–or how you expect her to act after saying such a thing.

In fact–why did you say any of it? 

Almost as if Sevika bursts an imaginary bubble, she takes a step backwards. Then two. 

Subconsciously, your shoulders relax. It’s difficult to inhale air that reminds you of her.

She shakes her head slightly as she tears her eyes from you; as if she’s trying to recenter herself.

Your throat clears. The moment is gone. Reality reminds you of where you are and how you got here.

 “Take care, Sev.” Is all you can say.

You back out of the driveway, which is an annoyingly long pathway. Then you’re clutching the steering wheel, tears streaming down your cheeks as you drive away.

[sevsgiirl]

good lawd 😩😩😩

oooooo…………… sev mocking readers moans….

❀ sevika who grins the second you whimper through your teeth, all choked up and trying to stay quiet. like it’s a game to her. like your mouth twitching is the most entertaining thing she’s seen all week. she tilts her head and leans in, murmuring right against your ear: “that the sound you make when you’re about to cum, doll? that pathetic little squeak?”

❀ sevika who imitates your moans in that low, taunting drawl: rough voice dragging every cracked syllable out, teasing you mid-thrust or mid-tongue like she’s bored, just to humiliate you. “nnnhhh sev, s’too much, can’t—” she mimics with a dramatic little gasp, rolling her eyes. “you sound real fuckin’ dumb like that, y’know that?” and then she gives you more.

❀ sevika who laughs when you try to hide your face or bite your lip. she grabs your chin, fingers dragging your bottom lip, and makes you look at her. “nah, don’t go all shy now. you were real loud a second ago. say it again for me, doll. what was it? ‘please’? ‘feels s’good’? bet i could make you cry it this time.”

❀ sevika who puts her big hand over your mouth. not to shut you up, but to feel how bad it gets. the vibrations of your cries. the way your hips buck and your eyes roll when her fingers sink deeper and her thumb brushes that sweet spot just right. then she pulls her hand back and licks her palm clean with a grin. “mm. still can’t believe a mouth that whiny tastes that good.”

❀ sevika who starts whispering your own sounds back to you after, when you’re boneless and twitching in her lap. smirking like the devil, blowing smoke between her teeth, and going, “you were so fuckin’ loud. sounded like a goddamn song. gonna keep you around just to hear that pretty cry again. i’ll won't even be gentle next time.” and you know she won’t.

go follow my tiktok @sevikastr4p i just made my first edit 🙏

[sevsgiirl]

i love x reader. 🥹 i think it’s so fun and creative. it’s not a perfect genre by any means, but even with its faults i think the pleasure of ending up on adventure after adventure after adventure with your favourite characters as you, the reader, are continuously reinvented and reimagined over and over again, is worth celebrating and protecting—and most importantly, creating for. 💅🏽📚✨

[sevsgiirl]

okay, I know I already have a mountain of wips and reqs to finish and PROMISE that I WILL, but I’m currently cooking up this ex-girlfriend!sevika fic and I can’t wait to post it when I have everything else out of the way 😈😈😈 it’s like super angsty though, but still!!

[sevsgiirl]

that was so yummy oh my GOD 😩😩😩

GRIND ‘TIL YOU CRY.

contains: sevika x virgin!reader, strap-on usage, size kink, dumbification, dacryphilia, clit play, finger sucking, cum play, praise kink, gentle dom!sevika, cockdrunk!reader, neck biting (no blood), light spanking, orgasm denial, aftercare

enjoy ♡

You were already straddling her hips when the nerves hit you.

Your palms rested lightly on Sevika's chest, her warm brown skin flushed gold in the lamp glow, the sheets under your knees soft and rumpled. 

You were naked—completely naked—for the first time in front of her, and the only thing separating you from her strap was your own hesitation.

"Hey." Her voice was rough, quiet, but steady. One hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing lazy circles just under your ribs. "You okay?"

You nodded quickly—too quickly. "Yeah. I just... I don't usually—uh, I mean, I've never-" You laughed breathlessly, embarrassed.

"I've only ever touched myself."

Sevika sat up a little, her good arm sliding around your back to support you. Her face softened.

"You wanna stop?"

"No." Your voice cracked. "I want this. I want you. I'm just... I don't know what I'm doing."

A beat. Then her lips curled into the tiniest, cockiest smirk. "Don't worry, baby. I do."

You bit your lip as heat shot between your thighs. That voice alone could ruin you.

She leaned forward, kissing your collarbone—slow, open-mouthed, warm. Her tongue flicked against your skin. 

"We'll go slow. I'm not gonna rush you. You just move how you need to. I'll be right here."

You nodded again, this time slower, more sure. Her strap pressed up under you—thick, firm, intimidating—but god, you were wet. Soaked, actually. You could feel it dripping down your thighs already.

Sevika noticed. She always noticed.

"You're so fuckin' wet, sweetheart," she murmured, sliding her hand between your legs to guide the strap. "All that from just thinking about it, huh?"

You whimpered, barely able to meet her eyes. Her gaze pinned you down anyway.

"You been touching yourself to this? Wishing it was me?"

You nodded. "Y-Yeah. So many times."

She groaned low. "Fuck. You’re adorable."

You braced your hands on her shoulders and finally—finally—started to lower yourself down. The head of the strap nudged your entrance, and you gasped, thighs trembling.

"Easy, sweetheart. Just a little at a time." She kissed your neck, sucking gently—just enough to leave a mark. "You're so tight, baby. Feels like your pussy's never letting go."

You shuddered as you sank down, inch by inch, breathing hard. It was so much. So full.

Not painful, just overwhelming. Sevika's hands gripped your waist to steady you, grounding you with every low, patient whisper.

When you bottomed out, your nails dug into her shoulders. You were panting.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," you whimpered. "It's so—mmngh—“

“None of that whimpering. Say it. Use your words, princess.”

“It’s so—full, Sev.”

"I know, baby. You're doing so good. Look at you."

You started to move. Slowly. Rocking your hips in tiny circles, easing yourself into the stretch. The friction lit something up inside you—something deeper than your fingers ever reached.

And then, without warning, your hips jerked forward a little too fast. You gasped. It hit just right. Right on that aching, swollen spot inside you.

"Oh my god—" you moaned.

Sevika chuckled darkly. "There she is."

You started moving again. A little faster. A little rougher. The way it rubbed against your clit every time you sank down made your whole body twitch.

It felt too good. Too much. You'd been so pent up, so desperate for something more than your own hands—and now you had it.

Her. This. 

The drag of her strap inside you, the warmth of her skin, her voice in your ear saying, "Fuck, look at you, baby. You're addicted already."

You were. It showed.

You were a mess—whining, grinding, moaning into her mouth. You grabbed her hand, sucked her fingers into your mouth without thinking. 

Sevika froze for a second, then let out the filthiest growl.

"God damn, you're really gone, huh?"

You drooled a little on her fingers. Couldn't help it.

She tilted her head, watching your blissed-out face with a lazy, hungry grin.

"Sweetheart... you're drooling."

You looked down, dazed, saliva slipping past your lip while your hips kept moving. You whimpered around her fingers.

"Fucking adorable," she muttered. "You're cockdrunk already, and I haven't even fucked you yet."

She kissed you hard, biting your bottom lip.

You moaned louder, needy and mindless now. You felt her reach between your legs again, rubbing slow circles on your clit while you kept grinding—grinding like your life depended on it.

"Don't cum yet," she warned. "Not yet. I wanna see you lose it first."

And you would. You were. A drooling, clenching, wet fucking mess—and Sevika wasn't done with you yet.

You didn't even realize how loud you were until Sevika growled, "You hear yourself, baby?"

Your hips were moving faster now, grinding down on her strap like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Your soaked pussy squelched with every roll of your hips, and your breathy moans came out high and broken and endless.

"I—fuck—I can't stop," you whimpered.

Sevika's fingers moved back to your clit—slow, torturously slow—and circled it while you ground down.

"You're so fucking sensitive." Her voice was wrecked, almost shaky. "Didn't know it'd feel this good, hm?"

You shook your head frantically. "No-I mean yes—I mean I can't—please-"

And then she spanked you.

It wasn't hard—just a quick, firm slap to your ass. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to make you jerk and moan and clench so tight around her strap that she had to bite back a groan.

"Yeah?" she rasped. "You like that, sweetheart?"

You nodded so fast it made your head spin.

"Yes—Sevika—I like everything—please, please-"

She hissed through her teeth. Her hand stayed on your ass, squeezing tight, grounding you. Her fingers never stopped circling your clit—slick and slow, not giving you enough, teasing you right to the edge.

Your thighs were trembling. Your belly was tight. Your breath was all over the place.

"I'm close," you whimpered. "I'm—I'm gonna—“

But Sevika stopped.

You sobbed.

"Shh." Her voice was low, gentle, but firm.

"Not yet. Not like this."

You blinked, dazed, drool still clinging to your lip. "Wha...?"

"I want your first time cumming on my strap to be perfect, baby," she murmured. "I want you to remember it. I want it to stay on your mind forever. So not yet. Not until I really give it to you."

Your pussy clenched again. Your whole body shook.

Sevika looked up at you—and something changed in her expression.

You were dazed, panting, spit-slick around the mouth, grinding down like you were in a trance. You were a fucking vision.

And the second she saw the way your lip quivered when she took her fingers off your clit, something snapped.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she growled.

She surged up and bit your neck.

"Ah—!" you gasped, the cutest, neediest little cry slipping out as your body arched.

"S-Sevika—!"

She didn't draw blood. Just sank her teeth in enough to make you feel it. Enough to make you moan and cling to her harder.

Her hands gripped your ass like she was holding herself back from flipping you over and fucking you into next week.

"You feel too good," she whined against your throat. "You're driving me fuckin' crazy, baby—You're so perfect."

You whimpered, grinding harder, your pussy slick and messy against her strap.

She kissed the spot she'd bitten—then her tongue soothed it, slow and loving.

"Still with me?" she whispered.

You nodded, tears in your eyes now.

"Mhm..."

"Good girl." She cupped your face with her good hand. "Just keep going. Ride it slow. I'll get you there. But I want you cockdrunk and shaking by the time I let you cum."

You moaned helplessly.

Her fingers slid down again, teasing your clit while you moved.

"I love how sweet you sound when you get desperate," she muttered. "You sound like you need it so bad."

"I do," you cried. "I need it so bad—please—please—“

"You drooled all over my hand," she teased.

"What, baby? My cock too good?"

You nodded, crying and grinding. "Too good. So good. I can't—I can't think—“

"You don't need to think, sweetheart." Her voice dropped low. "Just fuck yourself dumb on my strap. I'll take care of you."

You were gone.

Absolutely out of your mind—drooling, whimpering, and still rocking your hips like Sevika's strap was the only thing keeping your body alive.

Your thighs were trembling. Your hands clung to her shoulders, nails leaving faint little crescent marks in her skin. And your mouth—god, your mouth was open and leaking spit, little strings of it slipping down your chin while you babbled incoherent little moans.

"Look at you," Sevika murmured, brushing her fingers over your tear-damp cheeks.

"You're drooling and cryin' on my cock, honey."

You whimpered, a fresh wave of tears prickling your eyes, even as you kept grinding.

"Is it that good?" she asked, smiling crookedly. "So good it's makin' you cry?"

You nodded so fast it made you dizzy. "Y-Yes—I c-can't—I wanna cum—p-please-"

Your voice cracked on the last word, and the second it did, you sobbed.

Your face crumpled. Your whole body jerked like you couldn't take it anymore. And Sevika immediately pulled you down into her chest, shushing you as she cupped your pussy with her palm—warm, strong, steady.

"Hey, hey. I got you," she cooed. "You're okay. Just feelin' too much, huh?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I need it—need it s'bad..."

"Yeah, I know you do." Her thumb circled your clit so slow you almost cried harder.

"You've been so good, baby. So fuckin' perfect. I'm gonna give it to you. I promise."

"Please," you whispered, tears dripping from your chin. "I wanna cum—I need to— please, Sevika-"

And then she fucked up into you.

Her hips lifted. Her grip on your ass tightened. And her strap slammed into the deepest, most perfect spot while her fingers rubbed your clit in the exact rhythm you needed.

Your mouth fell open.

You made a choked, broken little noise.

And then—you screamed.

Your orgasm ripped through you so hard it hurt. Your body locked up, your thighs shook, your pussy gushed so much it splashed against Sevika's lap, and you collapsed forward, shaking, sobbing, whining her name over and over like a prayer.

Sevika caught every second.

"Fuuuuck," she groaned, watching you ride it out. "That's it, baby. That's how I wanted it. Just like that. Scream for me. Fuckin' soak me."

You sobbed harder, body twitching, your voice all high and shattered and full of relief.

"Y'feel that?" she murmured. "That's what a real orgasm feels like, sweetheart."

You could barely breathe. Barely think. You were slumped over her chest, drooling, twitching, tears still running down your face.

And Sevika was so sweet with you after. 

Her hand never left your pussy—just soft, gentle strokes, too slow to overstimulate. Her other hand brushed your hair, kissed your temple, held your shaking hips down when you whimpered again.

She looked down at your soaked thighs and smirked.

"Goddamn," she muttered. "You made a mess, baby."

You giggled.

And then she dragged her fingers up your slit, scooped the dripping slick from your folds, and showed it to you.

"See that?" she said softly. "That's what it looks like when I fuck you right."

You stared, eyes glazed, lips parted—and when she brought her fingers to your mouth, you didn't even hesitate.

You sucked them in with a needy little whimper.

Sevika's jaw flexed.

"Yeah," she whispered. "That’s it, sweetheart."

You were still trembling when Sevika pulled the strap out.

You whimpered, your body jolting with the aftershocks, and Sevika shushed you instantly, one arm curling tight around your waist to keep you grounded.

"Shhh, I got you, baby. It's okay. I'm right here."

Your head lolled against her shoulder. You were spent. Crying, shaking, drooling a little—and completely boneless in her arms.

And Sevika? She looked at you like she was in awe.

"You did so good," she whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So fuckin' good. You were perfect, sweetheart."

You let out a soft little whimper, still not fully back yet, and Sevika cradled the back of your head like you were something precious.

"Hey," she said gently. "Can I clean you up, pretty girl?"

You nodded weakly, and she was already moving—careful, slow, so fucking tender it made your chest ache.

She laid you back on the pillows with her arm still around you, pressed one more kiss to your jaw, and then grabbed a warm, damp towel from the drawer.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't mechanical. She cleaned you softly—like she was scared to hurt you. Every wipe was followed by a kiss. Every wince got a murmured "I'm sorry, baby." And when she finally pressed the towel between your thighs, she paused and whispered:

"You okay?"

You nodded, tears still on your cheeks.

"Mhm... just tired."

Sevika smiled.

"Yeah? That cock put you to sleep, huh?" she teased, but her voice was full of love.

She finished wiping you down, tossed the towel aside, and came right back to you-pulling you into her arms, wrapping the blanket around you both.

You buried your face in her neck. Your body was sore, aching, still tingling everywhere—but you felt safe. Warm. Loved.

"Did I do okay..?" you mumbled sleepily.

Sevika froze for a second.

Then she pulled you even closer.

"Baby," she murmured, her voice low and steady and soft, "you didn't just do okay.

You were the best thing l've ever touched."

You let out a tiny, broken breath.

She cupped your cheek, thumb brushing the dried tears from under your eyes.

"You're mine now," she whispered. "All mine. No one's ever gonna touch you like that but me."

You blinked, slow and dazed.

“…Okay," you whispered.

Sevika smiled like she'd just won the lottery. 

She kissed your lips. Kissed your forehead.

Kissed every little tear-stained inch of your face before pulling you into her chest again.

And then, as you drifted off to sleep, she murmured—

"Next time, I'm making you cum twice."

thank you so much to @anonymousgirl23456 for this amazing request <3 i hope u like it !!

[sevsgiirl]

ik i just run a tumblr smut page BUT!!!

FUCK ICE, free palestine, free congo, FUCK trump, FUCK musk, no one is illegal on stolen land, and if u disagree, FUCK YOU TOO!!!

i’ve said this before but if u support that fuckass orange in office, idc if ur a silent follower or ur like is ur only form of interacting with me, just know, i don’t want it!!! and u are a terrible person!!! 😛

[sevsgiirl]

THIS WAS SO GOODDDDD OH MY GODDDD the smut was better than I ever could imagine. the sexual tension, sev’s teasing and allure, the forbidden romance of it all 😩 maya, you always keep impressing me with your work. this has got to be one of my favorites of yours no doubt.

— prey

synopsis: 1 Corinthians 6:18 states that one must flee from sexual immortality, but it's hard to flee from something that is forever chasing you.

pairing: priest!sevika x semi-religious!reader

warnings: religion as part of the main plot, fun mix of Catholic branches, age gap, light angst at the end, bottom!reader, top!sevika, virgin!reader for religious reasons, perv!sevika, massive corruption kink, mean!sev, pet names (little lamb, lamb, pretty, baby), hand/arm kink, humiliation kink, praise kink, reader masturbation mentioned, pillow humping mentioned, cunnilingus, fingering, fucking in a church, degradation, sub headspace if you squint, spanking, pussy slaps, crying, eating it from the back + through panties

wc: 7.7k

a/n: please read the disclaimer that has already been published! all the thanks in the world to my girl @sevsgiirl ❤ they helped me so so much per usual and I'm their biggest fan.l

Oh forgive me if I love being bad for you.

Your mama always said that being good would get you to far, far places. She said that every man and every job and every opportunity admired a good woman. And so, you were. You were the perfect, thriving, glowing definition of good. Stunning grades, sports, church on Sunday. You talked to God like he was your best friend, and for a time, he was. She was right, too. People did admire you for your perfection. But it wasn’t long before the cracks started shining a bit brighter, and you realized that maybe this wasn’t the life for you.

“You be safe, okay?” Your mom rubbed her hands down your arms, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Oh, I don’t want to let you go!” She squeezed harder, holding you there like a lifeline. “Now listen, I already called some friends in town and of course, prayed over your new apartment. God is watching, he’s here with you-”

“Mom,” you interjected. “I know. I’m an adult, I’m ready for this. I’ll be just fine.” Her eyes welled with tears, pulling you back into a hug. Your dad walked over, wiping his hands on his pants and smiling. He was finished loading the car, which meant that you had a steady escape from your mother’s spiraling.

“Well, time to send you off, kiddo.” He opened his arms and you attached from your velcro mom, shifting your attention to your father. He didn’t squeeze you like it would keep you here, he held you and let you go, knowing that it was time. “Bye sweetheart, we love you.” You waved to the both of them as you got in the car, wasting no time before clicking your seatbelt in and driving off. This was it.

Your parents' relationship with religion wasn’t one that you saw very frequently. None of your other friends had parents that obsessed over your entire life, always dragging you back to God. Not even your friends from church. They used God to tell you what to say, how to dress, how to act. Everything was done in the eyes of God, and at times, it was crushing.

So, when your Mother texted you the name of a priest she knew in your new town, you swiped away the notification and let it sit in your inbox for weeks. You were convinced that, if you ignored it, you wouldn’t live a life that they controlled any longer. Even after you turned eighteen, went to the local college, made new friends. They still had a full hold on everything you did. Now, five hours away, you were free!

Your first day in town you wore a crop top - one that your mother took from you and hid in her closet years ago. She made you pray for days and ask God for forgiveness for something so sinful, so immodest. You felt terrible afterwards, and only wore things that covered everything but your wrists and ankles, absolutely convinced that you betrayed God with the shirt. But it didn’t, and it wasn’t, and when you wore it then, it fit you well, made you feel pretty.

God, did you feel so free.

Your mother checked in on your daily, but you only replied to a handful of them. When you told them that you had plans to move to the gayest part of the country, they all but freaked out, sure that you would come home transgender, or worse, gay. What on earth were they to do with a gay daughter? It wasn’t God’s commandment to be gay, and the thought of you as a gay had your mother’s mind spinning. You were sure you saw her life flash before her eyes when you told them.

You wouldn’t pretend that the town was out of your comfort zone. There were so many people compared to your small town, you couldn’t even understand how so many people lived in the same place. That being said, it felt, to you, like everyone was a model. There were so many faces that you had never seen before, so many identities and styles.

It wasn’t until the end of your first month that you ran into your first problem.

You found a coffee shop that you enjoyed, and began frequenting it. But, when they hired a new, tall, buff, female barista, you found yourself there more often than not. You were undeniably drawn to her, found yourself thinking of her when you shouldn’t be and striking up conversation with her like some kind of lovestruck fool.

Then, of course, the thoughts began creeping in. Terrible thoughts, about her voice and her arms and her fingers. All while you did terrible things to yourself - with God watching. You were screwed. The woman lived in your mind all the time, everywhere you went and everything you did. Every night before you went to bed, thoughts driven by lust guided you. You knew then that you would have to take your mother up on her priest offer.

The church was large, on the outskirts of the city. It had beautiful panels and stained glass windows that light poured through gorgeously. You followed the line of people, joining them in waiting to confess. Even if you had never been to this church or knew these people, they were kind to you. You had to tell someone, and if a priest that your mother heard was good had to be it, then she was it.

The booth was cramped when you stepped in and took your seat. You face forward, as one does, and placed your hands in your lap, waiting. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession,” you started, “I’ve never been to this church, and I’m new in town. I… I’ve been struggling with some lustful thoughts.. about women,” the words felt like dirt coming out of your mouth.

“Go on,” the priest spoke, and the voice was warm and thick and held you there like honey.

“Well, I haven’t exactly acted on them, but I have, um, touched myself thinking about… a woman.” The priest hummed and sat in silence for a moment, calculating. You were red with embarrassment, confessing something that went so against everything you had learned growing up.

“Was it one woman specifically, or have you had these tempting thoughts about several women?” The priest asked. You sat with yourself, pondering whether or not you had ever had those thoughts before. Well, maybe you had.

“There was a girl when I was younger. My thoughts weren’t driven by lust but I thought of what life would be like with her. This woman is so.. different. I’ve never done anything with anyone, I’ve never had such filthy thoughts about anyone before, especially not a woman.” You whispered the last word, as if it would change anything.

“Everyone struggles with temptation at some point in their lives. I myself have struggled with sexual temptation to the same sex. But, what’s important is that you didn’t act on these thoughts outside of your body. If you feel driven, you have this space to share your thoughts. If not, I can bless you and provide you with your penance.” You pondered, once again. This was a stranger. What if this priest wasn’t as good as your mother claimed?

“Well… I thought of her performing.. sexual acts on me. With her fingers and her mouth. Saying dirty, terrible things to me. I don’t know anything of lesbian sex, I don’t even know where these thoughts came from.” You felt like crawling into a ball and just sitting there with your thoughts.

“In God’s name, I grant you forgiveness for your sins,” you released a breath. “I order you to fast for the next week, read your Bible, and return next week. In Jesus’ name we pray and forgive, Amen.” You said Amen, letting the priests’ words sink into your skin. You would fast, intermittently as instructed, but you weren’t sure how abstaining from food would remove the desires that you weren’t even sure you wanted to be rid of.

“You have a very kind voice,” you said quietly. “Thank you kindly, Father.” You spoke, southern charm briefly snaking its way into your vocabulary. You left the booth, feeling as if every eye in the room was digging into you, even though the booth is soundproofed. Like they knew that you were full of it, that you didn’t want to get better. All you wanted was to uphold your perfect little image. God didn’t have a place in your life.

It wasn’t until the following week that you were sure God wouldn’t ever forgive you.

The week had been long, almost torturous. Going without food didn’t feel like a penance, it just felt like work. You didn’t feel any more connected to God than you did the previous week, and all you were getting out of it was fatigue and falling asleep at work. Your bible did nothing, praying did nothing. You felt like none of it was ever going to cure you.

When you arrived at the church one week after you first stood there, you had no idea what to say to the Reverend. Would you say that you didn’t want to give up your sin, that you didn’t care what God thought? That what you were instructed to do wasn’t working, and the orders were wrong?

The church was empty when you stepped in, and it was daunting. It made the room look larger, the ceilings look taller, the rows of pews doubling as you walked closer to the front. Nobody was there, and you were sure that you did something wrong. Maybe you got the date wrong, maybe this was a fever dream, or a test from God.

You looked around, taking in every aspect of the church. The stained glass windows bared their blooming colors down onto your skin, changing it to shades of purple and green and blue. The room was warm, welcoming even. But that didn’t change the fact that it didn’t feel right. None of this was right.

Someone cleared their throat and you whipped back around to the front, taking in the person before you. It was a woman, but not a woman that looked like any other you had seen before in your entire life. She had short hair, cropped at the ear, and the shadow cast across her face made her grey eyes gleam. She was one hell of a sight.

That was when you knew.

“May I help you?” She asked, and you immediately recognized the voice. This was the priest that you spoke to last week, when you recited every thought that was currently resurrecting in your brain.

“I’m here for confession, I think,” you said quietly, slightly embarrassed as it appeared the event was cancelled. “I may be in the wrong place, I just moved here. Are you the Reverend?” She smiled, setting aside what she was doing.

“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry you couldn’t join us on Sunday, I announced then that this week’s confession had to be cancelled. But, I’m not busy if you want to talk. I’m Sevika,” she leaned against a railing that divided the altar and the nave, offering a hand for you to shake. “Have you confessed before?”

Sevika knew the answer. She knew the moment she saw you, the way you spoke, the look in your eyes. You were the woman from last week, who told her about your sexual desire for women. She was sure, now that she saw your face, that she would never forget you. There was a breathtaking person behind the filthy confessions, and it made her mind wander to places God would frown upon.

“Yes, last week, I was told to come back this week. I found that what I was ordered to do hasn’t been working. I still feel the way I did last week.” You huffed. She gestured to a pew and you followed her, taking your seat beside her.

She was so close, too close. Her knee pressed against your own, and you could basically hear the sound of her breathing. She was warm beside you, and her entire person drew you in, causing a lack of disconnect for the disgusting thoughts in your head. There were so many things. Her hands were huge, and the material of her black shirt stretched thin around her bicep. You were dying to see what was under the shirt, and if it was as tempting as it appeared to be. And then, of course, you were smacked in the face with the reminder of the fact that she was your future Reverend.

“Since we’re alone, do you feel compelled to remind me of your confession?” You shifted nervously, confessing out of the booth making you feel as if God had a better watch on you. Maybe you weren’t ready for this; maybe you didn’t want to change.

“Well.. it was about lust, and, um, other women. I’ve been having some thoughts about what it would be like to, maybe, indulge in.. sexual acts.. with other women. I think a lot about hands and voices, and..” you trailed off as your eyes slowly painted their way from the tips of her fingers, across her arm, up her neck, and all the way back to her eyes.

Sevika was good at hiding whatever she was thinking. She was desperate to know every thought that you had, pick apart that pretty little head until she had you in a perfect, open position. But she didn’t. “Is that so?” She hummed. Your thighs rubbed together as a familiar feeling rose between them - except this time, it was brought upon by another person, and not your own thoughts. “I remember you, now. Tell me why you don’t think your penance is working.”

You forced your brain to come back into the moment. “I made my fast, as instructed, and I prayed. I read my Bible every night, cover to cover. But.. it still doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel fixed. I’m still having these thoughts even when I don’t want to have them. They just creep up on me and take my mind under control.”

“Healing doesn’t happen overnight, lamb,” she watched your pupils dilate, and an ever so slight change in the pace of your breath. “It takes time. Once you open your heart and mind to God, He will take His time healing you. He doesn’t make mistakes.” You looked up at her, realizing then that she was dramatically taller than you, even when sitting.

“Reverend,” your gaze fell once again, this time focusing on your hands in your lap. “What if.. what if I don’t want to get better? A part of me wants to walk out of this church and never return. What if I like these thoughts, and I like what I’ve come up with? What if I want it to happen to me?” You thought back to the barista, who hadn’t even wandered into your mind since you got here. It was like she meant nothing any more, now that you had such a woman in front of you.

“My previous statement still applies. Moving away from the temptation of sin and sin itself comes with time,” she turned to you, placing a hand on your knee. “Inherently, your thoughts are not sin. They only become sin when you act on them.”

“Does touching myself count as acting on them?” God, her mind was racing.

“God never says that pleasuring yourself is a sin, but your thoughts leading up to doing such are what makes it a sin. If your fantasies include other women and doing sexual things with them rather than, let's say doing it to aid period cramps, then it turns into falling into temptation.” You nodded, taking in her words. You knew the answer, but you still didn’t feel bad.

“Thank you, Sevika. Would you be willing to offer me further penance?” She smiled, letting out a quick chuckle.

“I’m going to order you a personal one, and a church related one,” you met her eyes, scanning the depths of her face. You never wanted to forget it. “Though I’m not sure how often you do it, I want you to restrict touching yourself to the best of your ability, and I want you to continue your fast. Now, in Jesus’ name we pray, Amen,” you repeated her Amen, “return next week, or join us for church. We have a Wednesday night session at eight this week, if you’d like to attend.”

“I just might.” Your eyes were practically glued to hers, unrelenting. You needed to learn her, know every crook and crevice in her face. Every color in her eyes, and every wrinkle that found its way onto her aging face. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Reverend. Thank you.” You stood with her and pulled her into your arms without thinking. You reached as far up onto your tippy-toes as you could, and the poor woman still had to bend to reach you.

“Have a good night, little lamb.” Her hands slid off your waist as you pulled away, walking away and leaving the church with your head in a daze.

You found yourself trapped in her daze until you were back to your apartment. Everything about her beyond fascinated you. There was a small color shift in her eyes, a haze of blue and dark grey that mixed together to create the most perfect color, dressed with growing crows feet in the corners, that pulled when she smiled. Her nose was large and round and stapled her face in a beautiful way, almost touched by a large scar that found its way down her cheek and neck.

You wondered how far the scar went, underneath her clerical collar. If it touched her chest, or found its way to her stomach, all the places you were desperate to see. Desperate, that was the word for you. Desperate to know the shade of her lips, and the way they felt on yours. Desperate to know how she spoke out of uniform, the things she liked to do.

Wednesday service was going to be unbearable.

Sevika was in a position similar to yours, but she liked the idea that she had the upper hand. She liked how you looked at her, and the way your thighs rubbed together ever so gently at the names she called you. She knew you didn’t want to get better, and she knew you wouldn’t. Not when you sat in the church, squirming and eyeing her arm like a slut.

But it also meant that she had you. If she wanted you, wanted to break her oath and ruin her purity for you, she could. You would let her. There wasn’t an inch of your body that would put God before her if she asked. She knew you were thinking the same things about her fingers and her mouth as you were about whatever woman drove you to come in the first place.

She never considered herself a particularly observant person, but the way she noticed the shift in your eyes, from good to bad, and the way you listened to her, patiently, she may have to start using the title. You were practically pliable, ready to be morphed into what she wanted from you.

She would never forget the words touching yourself leaving your mouth. She could imagine it, truly. See your hand sliding over your stomach and over your panties, rubbing your clit like it was enough. Refusing to fuck yourself on your fingers, afraid of what God might think. And when it wasn’t enough, she could see you sitting pretty on one of your pillows humping yourself on it like a dog, chasing any feeling of pleasure that you could derive from it. She could envision you like she was watching you on video.

Sevika was absolutely dripping wet in her living room, where she let her thoughts run several minutes ago. This was the first time anything of this sort had happened to her in years - she never thought like this, and was never this driven to act on it. Guilt overrode any substantial plans of finding the vibrator stuffed away in her closet.

No matter what happened, you were both fucked.

-

You let weeks pass. You had to. There was no way you could step into a house of God with her in it and pretend that you didn’t crave her from the depths of your skin. There was no use pretending anymore, not when thoughts of her crept into your mind at all times of the day, everyday, for the last two weeks. You were waiting for them to subside before going to the church, even thought about going to a different church to try and improve your thoughts.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help. The longer you were away from her, the stronger the thoughts grew. You had to go back. Somewhere, deep inside, you thought that if you went to the church, watched her preach about God, what she knew best, you would be relieved of the things holding you back.

And so, you got home from work, dressed nice, and prepared to go to church. The only thing your mother gifted you before you left was a rosary - it was beaded in red, with the equipment matching in gold. You wore it around your neck, the first time you had bothered taking it out of the box since she gave it to you, like it would save you. It wasn’t going to.

None of your thoughts about going to the church revolved around anything inappropriate. Sevika knew that, she knew it when you walked in quietly, five minutes before her sermon began. She knew when you sat in the front, and closed your eyes, letting her words melt into you while the rosary clung tight to your palm burned your skin. You were here for a reason that wasn’t known to your sweet little brain yet.

You were such a pretty thing, sitting there proper in a skirt that dusted your ankles and a headband that matched. Her eyes found you in the crowd every time she lifted her gaze from the holy book before her to the crowd. It wasn’t busy late on a Wednesday night, and she knew that’s why you were here. There were less suspecting eyes, less people to grow weary of an unfamiliar face amongst them.

Most importantly, there were less people that knew.

It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but someone in the crowd, you were sure, knew that you were thinking a grand scheme of unholy things about the reverend. You couldn’t stand it, these thoughts. You tried to convince yourself that she wasn’t looking at you when she preached, but the way her dark eyes drilled into your own when she read a verse forced your thoughts otherwise. When the service was over, you were going to bult. You couldn’t stay, couldn’t ever come back.

This was the end of your time as a Catholic. You had disappointed God far too much.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the end of our service tonight, I want to talk about something that many of us in the crowd know and love,” Sevika smirked, “all of our married folk in the room, as I send you off tonight, I want all of y’all to remember that God calls us to enjoy and place importance in our relationships with sex,” there were hoots and hollers throughout the hall. “So I ask, in the name of God, have some fun between this service and our Sunday service. Let’s end with a prayer.”

Sevika began her prayer, but your mind was focused on her encouragement of sex. It made you wonder if Sevika was married, and if everything you had created in your head was just that - a creation. Fake. If you imagined the way she looked at you and the names she called you. It wasn’t real.

You had almost made your escape from the church without having to speak to her before you were cornered. Of course. Every priest did this. They bid farewell to those leaving the church at the end of the service, shaking hands and kissing babies, encouraging the group to return the following Sunday.

And like every other, she did it to you. “Thought I’d never see you again, peach.” She chuckled. Like a puppy, you were drawn to her as the stranglers made their way out. “Walk with me,” you did as told, following by her side as you walked back up the aisle towards the altar. “Did you enjoy the service?” You contemplated giving a half-assed answer, anything that could get you out of this church as quickly as possible.

“Yes, it was nice to sit in on a service again. It’s been a while. Speaking of which-” you tried, once again, to get away, the outcome reflecting similarly to the first time.

“Will you be joining us on Sunday?” Sevika was doing everything in her power to get you to stay. The more she talked to you, the more she asked, she knew you would. Pliant. It was a phenomenal word for you. So… flexible. Willing, even. With the way your eyes widened with every word she said, lips parting and cheeks reddening like she was the most fascinating thing on earth… it was easy. You were easy.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able.” It felt like lying. The short answer was no, and the long answer was no, you couldn’t ever step foot into this church again without the fear of God coming down and smiting you himself. Telling her that you may have plans wasn’t a lie, simply an aversion to the harsh truth.

“Well if you can, we’d love to have you. You make a great audience member.” You stopped dead in your tracks, still. Hopefully she didn’t notice. The comment was clearly an innuendo, hinting at the way your thighs pushed together under your skirt and the way your hands bunched up the material every time you thought she looked your way.

“That’s kind of you to say,” your fingertips smoothed over the rosary around your neck, drawing her eyes to the spot on accident. She was good at watching you, and you were aware. She took a step closer to you, entering your personal space. She wasn’t far - close enough that you could smell the cologne she had on. It was a musky mix of wood and something deep, and you let your eyes flutter closed.

“Is this new?” She asked, large fingers finding the piece like a feather. You were burning now, burning like you were floating in front of the sun itself. She could inevitably feel the temperature of your skin and the rapid pace of your heart, and feel it she did.

“No,” you whispered back, “my mother gifted it to me before I left.” Your eyes were squeezed shut tighter than they had been for the extent of your life.

“Do you pray to it every night? You feel saved yet, pretty?” She pushed further, seeing how much you would take before you snapped out of it and left, never to be seen by her again. You were pretty. The prettiest girl she’d ever seen, will ever see. It was only her duty to tell you that.

“No.” You opened your eyes, meeting hers and immediately realizing her closeness. “In fact, I think I may try a new church, one that feels more right.” You felt weak, trying to pretend to be strong. But her proximity to you, her smell, her hand still rubbing over the cross, it was all too much to be strong.

“Are you now?” Sevika was amused by this, especially knowing that nothing would tear you away from the things you felt about her. “Why’s that, lamb? Something I should know about in my church that’s bothering you?” You sighed, frustrated and turned on more than you’d like to admit.

“I feel as if your penances aren’t working, nothing has changed. And you..” She cut off the end of your sentence, abruptly.

“Me?” She asked in a playful tone, like she knew this was working. Like she knew that heat was pooling in your belly and your panties were wet.

“You’re distracting me. From being saved.” She smirked, stepping even further into your space. You backed up, not going far before your back hit the railing that divided the ambo and the crossing. You were stuck between her and the railing, but there was nothing to object. Not now. Her knuckles ran down your bare chest until they reached the start of your top, where she switched to her fingers.

Leaning in, with her fingertips running down your side, she spoke. “No, little lamb,” she leaned in, mouth finding the shell of your ear. “You just don’t want to be.” Her hand fastened around your hip, pushing it into the railing. “In fact, with all of these thoughts of yours, I don’t even know if God can save you.”

“I don’t.. I don’t know what you want me to say to that.” You pouted. You weren’t exactly scared, at the moment, but something else was creeping up inside of you. She had the means and opportunity to do absolutely whatever she wanted to you, right now. And the worst, most gut wrenching part of all of it, is that you’d say yes.

“Give in.” The moment your eyes met hers, her lips were slamming into your own.

Kissing her was like kissing an angel. You had kissed plenty of boys in your life, but where their spit and shitty tongue turned you off, Sevika’s bruising force and toe-curling kisses turned you on. She pressed her lips into you with fervor, chasing every feeling she could get out of you, and you didn’t resist.

It was terrible, truly, how you let her do it. Let her suck your tongue into her mouth and wrap her large hand around your throat. Awful. Ungodly. It would be best if you pushed her away and ran out of the church, chasing your dignity that seemingly flew out the stained-glass window. But it was so fucking good.

She was so much bigger than you, also. There was no way that you could escape from her now, not like this. Not when your mind was spinning and your legs were about to let out, all from a kiss. All from her hands on your hips and her warm body pressed to yours. And when she pulled away, looking at you darkly like her next meal, you couldn’t help but let out a pathetic noise, and she smirked.

“This is wrong,” you insisted, but your grip on the front of her gown didn’t cease. “This isn’t good, this isn’t what God wants.” You were battling with the fact. This wasn’t anything close to what God wanted. God called for pleasure in marriage, marriage between one man and one woman. But here you were.

“Leave, lamb. Walk away. Go be good,” she took a step back, your grip on her shirt releasing, teasing smirk still painted on her stunning features. This was your chance, your opportunity to move back home and keep being good, keep being that sweet little version of you that seemed to be gone forever. But you didn’t move, you couldn’t move. “That’s what I thought. You want this, don’t you, sweet thing?” You were practically shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Hesitantly, you nodded. It was slow, and only once. Sevika was back on you in an instant, trapping you against the railing once again while she dragged your legs up and around her hips. She kissed your neck, doing far more than any stupid boy had in the past. It wasn’t long before any thoughts of God began to slip from your brain, too busy focusing on the way her warm mouth sucked the skin on your neck, adding her teeth and quickly flicking her tongue over the spot to ease any pain.

You couldn’t blame anyone for enjoying this. Not when she did the things that she did to you. “You’re always so good, baby,” she kissed the spot right below your ear. “Don’t you think you deserve something for being so good all the time?” Once again, you nodded slowly. “Answer me, lamb. You’ll learn quickly that doing what I say will get you what you want.”

“Yes,” your voice shook with your answer, eyes drifting to the side. It was an embarrassing experience, but it was only deserved. She let your legs down, backing away slightly with a chuckle.

“Yes what, baby? What do you deserve?” A flush of red warmed your cheeks. It was hard to say something you didn’t agree with; you hadn’t been good, you didn’t deserve anything because you weren’t good. If you acted right, you still didn’t deserve anything. God didn’t give out favors for simply doing what you were called to do.

Sevika’s words snuck their way into your mind quickly. You were so far gone already, what’s a little bit more? She had already made you feel this good and she had hardly touched you. What was just a little more? Maybe she was right, maybe God hated you.

“Yes, I deserve something for being good,” you cringed at your own words, flinching away from her gaze. She pulled your forward off of the railing, lifting you over her shoulder like it was nothing. Like you were a piece of paper in comparison to her strength.

You found purchase atop the sermon table, the fat of your thighs morphing against the divots in the wood, through your skirt. Every church had a table in the altar, one where the reverend could sit things out or create a sort of symbolism of God, but right now, she was pushing everything off to sit you onto it, reattaching her lips to your neck rapidly.

You were writhing under her by the time her lips found your collarbone, leaving a trail of dark marks. “Let’s take this off, pretty thing. Can you do that for me?” She ran her pointer and middle finger under the elastic of your skirt as she whispered in your ear, planting a kiss under it.

You didn’t hesitate in lifting your hips and slipping it down, leaving you in your top and panties. It was the epitome of a compromising position, looking up at her half naked with your hair static and your makeup messed up. “You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” You nodded, but that was hardly enough for her, as you should've anticipated. She grabbed your jaw, pressing her fingers into your cheeks to hollow them out. “What did we just talk about?”

“Yes, I’m pretty.” You mumbled through the force of her hands.

“That’s it,” she cooed, removing her hand in favor of pulling you up by your upper arms and spinning you around, folding you over the table in front of you. With a gasp, your cheek came down on the wood with your hands flat next to your head. You were ass up, pink panties covering the one thing that nobody else had ever seen. “Whatever will I do with you, little lamb? God doesn’t like sluts who bend over for their priests.” Her hand came down to knead the flesh of your ass.

You whimpered, pushing back into the touch. It was humiliating, really, how wet you got when she said such vile things, using your religion, your existence against you. Even with that in mind, you were practically dripping through your panties, you may even be. All you knew was that your thighs were wet and that Sevika was the only one who could see anything else.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You whined, glancing over your shoulder at her. The look in her eyes had far surpassed something sinister. She pressed her flesh thumb into the wet patch on your underwear, against your drenched entrance, laughing as you mewed.

“You’re in no position to make demands, peach. Not when you're this wet from some kissing. This how you feel every time you see me?” Her mech hand came down hard on your ass when you didn’t answer, making you flinch again. “The first time we met, I knew you’d be easy. Wide eyes and those pretty legs that rubbed together with every word I said. Has anyone ever touched you here before, little lamb?” She ran her flesh thumb up and down the sensitive skin and you attempted to tighten your thighs with no avail.

“No, only..” you trailed off as she sank to her knees, pressing a kiss into the crease between your ass and your upper thigh, letting them travel down your hamstring.

There was a pause before she answered you, “Only?” she pushed, desperate to know if her fingers would be the first in your pretty cunt. She continued her trail of kisses all over your thighs as you pondered whether or not to answer her.

“Only my own.” You whispered, guilt taking you over as you decided that answering was probably a better idea than whatever consequence she would award you if you didn’t.

She hummed. “What do you think about when you fuck your cunt with your fingers, pretty thing?” You clenched down on something nonexistent as her words shot straight to your core. This was absolutely disgusting. Before you could think to answer, her tongue was lapping lazily at your clit over your panties, taking a fat lick from your clit to your hole. Her hand came down on your ass again, learching you forward with a moan.

“You,” you sputtered, “I think about you.” she moaned into you, sending soft vibrations through your system, just enough to make you tense, a new wave of slick rushing through your panties.

She didn’t bother with any more humiliating questions with forced answers, instead opting to press her face into you and continue licking at your center over your panties. She went like that for several minutes, until you were practically crying and your panties were soaked - partially her spit and partially the wetness that was leaking from you like a hose.

Your mind was in a daze when she stood, tucking her fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear as she began to drag it over your ass. “Lift your hips, pretty girl. Let me make you feel good, since you’re so needy.” You couldn’t even think to do it, resulting in her lifting them for you. It only made you wetter, the way she lacked any form of struggle when lifting you, essentially doing it with one hand while she used the other to drag your pantues down.

She didn’t allow them to come all the way off  before she was attaching her wide lips to your clit. With your panties strung around your ankles and her tongue on your clit, you knew that this was the end of anything pertaining to you and God. There was no place for God when she had a mouth like that.

“I think God blessed y’r pussy, baby. Tastes so fucking good.” She followed with a groan, sucking your clit into her mouth. You almost shrieked, lurching forward once again as the nerve exploded with feeling. Porn had never even come close to making you feel this way, let alone your pillow or fingers.

With a final peck, Sevika flicked her tongue against your entrence, pushing it through the tight muscle and wasting no time tongue-fucking you like you weren’t in a house of God. She was messy, grabbing your hips with both hands and pulling you into her face, letting you rock into it and hump her like some sort of dog. Her face was soaked, from her nose to her chin, but nothing was stopping her.

Sevika was having the time of her life. She got exactly what she wanted, just like she knew she would. And to make it even better, you had the wettest pussy of any girl she’d ever fucked. When she took her oath, she was sure that she would miss eating out the most, making you a prize. Your cunt was so good that she was sure she would resign the moment she got you home safe. THere was no way in hell she would be able to go without this for longer than a day.

Not only were you drenching her like a baptism, but you were also moaning and squirming and making all the best noises that drove a sane woman crazy. Your cunt had to be heaven, your body that of an angel. This was her blessing, her calling and her salvation. It was you, all of you.

A pit grew in your stomach, wrapping itself around every inch of your body until she whispered, “come, lamb” had your muscles relaxing and your legs shaking, wave after wave of pleasure rocking you like a punch. Sevika didn’t halt, drinking up every last drop that she could get from you, and she didn’t stop there.

Once she was sure your orgasm was over, she stood, flipping you over until your back was resting against the wood. She pressed her middle finger against your hole, groaning into your neck as you swallowed her in. “You’re such a good girl, yeah? Gonna get broken in tonight, peach. ‘m gonna stretch you so good, make you so full.”  You practically screamed as she curled her single finger up into the best spot in your body, one that you hadn’t touched yourself.

“Vika, ‘s too much,” you slurred, but all she did was press  her cold, mech thumb onto your tongue, husing you. She added another finger, letting you adjust knuckle by knuckle until you were full. She fucked you like that for some time, crooking up with every thurst until your tears were regular.

“One more big stretch, my girl can do it, can’t she?” you shook your head no, but it wasn’t true. You wanted to see how far you could go, how much you could take. Your body begged to indulge and be stretched open for her, molding to every part of her.

Her third, thick finger protruded your entrance and you cried out, fat salty tears falling down your cheeks. It burned when she got the first knuckle in, and your hand shot down to her wrist to hold it in place. Using the wetness that your mouth provided, she rubbed circles into your clit with her mech hand, helping you adjust to the feeling.

When she bottomed out, you were close to sobbing. She wasn’t joking when she insisted on filling you, you were full to the hilt, shaking like a leaf with every delicious curl of her fingers. Once she got going, there was no slowing her down. She fucked into you like the world was ending, unrelenting in her pace as she did nothing but watch all three fingers get sucked in every time.

Your mind was swimming, stuck in what you were sure was an alternate universe. There was no way that a single woman was making you feel this good, making your eyes roll back and your tongue loll out like you had no thoughts. “Hey,” she caught your attention, but your brain and recognition was at an all-time slow. “Watch your greedy,” you whined as her mech hand came down no your clit, “fucking,” it came down again, only increasing your noise, “cunt,” she finished it off with one final slap, “sucks in my fucking fingers.”

You gazed down, watching every thrust. You reached up, pulling her body against your own as you approached your next orgasm. You held her close to you, nails scratching and digging into her toned back when her mechanical hand began its pace on your clit. “Sev.. Sev, I-I can’t do it, it hurts,” you cried, hands tightening on her shoulders as your muscles tensed.

“My strong girl, you can do it. Give me another one.” She increased her pace ever so slightly and that’s what did it, clenching down on her so tightly that you feared for her circulation. You came for what felt like hours, shaking and crying and holding her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. “Atta girl, little lamb. See how good you are at listening?” You only moaned, further extending your finish.

When you were finally finished, she pulled her fingers from you and tapped your lips, motioning for you to open them. You did, not expecting her to push all three in and down your throat. You caught on quickly that she wanted you to suck them, sucking them clean of your own release. It was purely erotic, not coming anywhere close to things that you had done to yourself or thought of having done to yourself.

Once her fingers were clean, Sevika dipped her head down once again, this time only licking up the mess that you had already made. Her intentions didn't stop you from twitching and squirming, though. She pulled you up, letting you put all of your weight on her as she redressed you. Your legs were basically jelly, so much happening that there was no way you could stand or even manage to get yourself home.

Without asking, she effortlessly scooped you into her arms and out of the church, only briefly sitting you down to lock the doors. You wondered whether or not she had left things since she was clearly in a hurry, but it hardly mattered with the fuzzy state of your mind.

She got you home and helped you up the stairs to your apartment, but she didn’t stop there. She helped you change and tucked you in, even pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, lamb.” She said softly as she disappeared out your door.

And you knew, then, that you weren’t ever going to see her again.

taglist: @viperinthecastle @sw33td3ath @caroteniodstereo @thehoneybeestings @losernb @ferxanda @livslifeonline @mommyissuesismypersonality @barelykiramman @ilyjupit3r @genderfluidlesbian999 @ghost-queen101 @lipglosskxsses @honeyylove @lesvii @diouna @inyavika @cinnamoworld @sevikassneakylink @lilithyys @beewwebb @mxlfchaser @coffinboy666 @half-of-a-gay @skullsbown @pinkysweettooth @swaggycunts-blog @windytulips @sevikaswifeomm @miguellover6969 @luvnette @okayyesbutno @babyspice333 @sallyfaith @ghostluvv3r @leeidk87 @chaiteasthings @thalchmy @glittzygorilla @lonerslug @ilovemealotz @bunni3wh0r3 @nonexistentsourcherry @pinkembodiment @lesbonym @rosebg @spring-sparrow @strawberrylipglossx @koralinebox @furpantscollective @bunnslittlecottontail @violetsangel1 @foreverordinary404

[sevsgiirl]

Butch back 🫦

[sevsgiirl]

this series was absolutely incredible 🤌🏻 my god.

severance.

ghost. part iii ┃ sevika x reader WC: 3.2K

ⓘ: its me again....international bestselling author QUAN MILLZ. can you tell i got progressively drunker while attempting to write this monstrosity of a final part? ⚠︎: kissing, alcohol consumption, blood, psychological horror elements, body horror if you squint, SMUT, softdom!sevika, top!sevika, fingering (r!receiving), oral sex (r!receiving), orgasm denial, mild angst, no happy ending

A sharp, painful grunt escapes your cracked lips as your eyes bolt open, bloodshot and glassy. The piercing shriek of your alarm does little to soothe the migraine booming behind your eyes. You sniffle as anguish sprouts through your body, and the scorning scent of vermilion infiltrates your senses.

You whimper in pain, reaching over to shut off the clock. As you rub your temple, the memories of the night prior rush to your mind, eliciting an audible gasp from your parched throat.

Your head snaps in the direction of the mirror, eyes widening at the horrific sight staring back at you. Purple, yellow, and black bruises splotched the sensitive skin of your neck. Serrated marks indented on the nape, agonising to the touch. The sensation of macerated flesh induces nothing but disgust and guilt.

Tears welled in your eyes—blurring your vision—as you attempted to digest the situation, reflecting on Sevikas bite as well as her abrupt departure. She had lost control, pinned you, gazed down at your trembling form like you were a target…a victim. The tinge of savagery that lingered behind her grey orbs was now harrowing to picture.

Your chest rises and falls as you take deep breaths, body shuddering at the customary action. Almost as if you were operating mechanically. You feel panic begin to arise, the thought of what this could mean—what this could've done—terrorizes your mind. 

After a few moments of deep breaths—allowing your fluttering pulse to slow down—you climb out of bed, shuffling to the living room. You pick up the phone attached to the wall, dialing the number for the main office.

The receiver buzzes in your ear before someone picks up, It's Matt. “What?” His voice is gruff, and you can almost smell the fetor of tobacco filtering through the speaker. Hollers clamour in the background, indicating the budding commotion of the trade floor. 

“Hey Matt, Uhm…can you let the boss know I won't be in today..? I have a cold…” You mutter, gaze darting around like his unseen scrutiny is dissecting every syllable, exposing the truth behind your facade.

He merely scoffs, though you can sense the frustration. “Yeah sure..want me t’send ya a fuckin’ postcard too, little miss?” His rhetoric comes out as a vexed jeer, almost exasperated by the request.

Before you can pipe up to defend yourself, the line goes dead. However, not before Sevika's authoritative voice echoes hollow in the background, her tone bordering on incensed. This sparks your heart rate once again, thundering against your ribs as anxiety coils tight in your chest.

You clench the soft fleece of your shirt, each breath a conscious effort—heavy, uneven—as you fight to wrestle your nerves back under control. Lamentably, such efforts are proven futile as your mind flashes back to Sevika’s stony gaze…Or perhaps picturing the falter in her expression when she realizes you're not gonna show up to work. 

Your legs buckle as you sink to the floor, like an anchor stopping it's ship…something, anything to ground you to the present moment. Tears flow freely; soft sobs racking your body, uncontrollable and degrading.

Hours seem to pass, time shifting into a foggy blur as your mind runs rampant. Then, the front door swings open, handle thumping against the wall, almost hard enough to leave an indent.

It’s none other than Sevika, chest rising and falling with strained breaths.

Her eyes widened at the sight of you so distraught, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. “Oh, doll..” She murmurs, swiftly approaching your sitting form. “I—fuck…” She curses softly, tilting your chin up with her hand. 

The sounds of your sniffles fill the room, and Sevikas' expression falls. “Im so sorry doll, I—fuck—I shouldnt have left ya here alone…” She purses her lips, thumb caressing the blooming purple.

Your eyes are vitreous, bottom lip trembling as her thumb gently tugs on it. “...s’alright..” Is all you're able to muster, voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyebrows furrow and she immediately shakes her head, almost appalled that you would be so quick to dismiss. “No, doll, It's not alright…” She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, her eyes meeting yours for the first time since she burst through your door. The brief contact sending a jolt up your spine.

“I—” You attempt to argue back, though your efforts at forming any coherent sentence are futile when the glossy tears begin to blur your vision once more. 

Her expression falls, gently cupping both sides of your jaw in her large palms, handling you as if you were made of glass. “...I'm gonna make this right, dolly…I swear…gonna take care of you…” She nods, though you're unsure if the action is an attempt to console you or herself.

You nod slowly, catching yourself leaning into her touch absentmindedly. The physical contact serves as an anchor against your whirring mind.

She reaches down to gently lift you, ensuring extra care. Her large palm splayed across your hip as she supported your body weight. Wordlessly leading you down the hall and into the open door of the restroom.

She helped you into a seating position on the edge of the bathtub, eyes meeting yours once more before she broke the contact. As she rummaged through the cabinet, your mind grew inattentive to the present moment, vision fogging up, senses dulling.

Though you're brought back to earth by the cool sensation of Sevikas thumb caressing your jaw, her muscles taut as she kneels in front of you. “...Did you wanna talk about it?” Her voice pierces through the tense silence, the simple words carrying a weight you'd rather shove down.

“I don't know…what to say.” You admit, head still spinning from the loss of blood. Your skin prickles at the feeling of her hand on your face, unsure if you want to lean into or shrink away from her touch.

Her lips downturn into a frown at your hesitancy, eyes flicking across your expression in an attempt to gauge your emotions.

You swallow thickly, mind racing at the plethora of negative outcomes your brain was throwing at you. "…Am I gonna die?" You ask, eyes clouded with mist, bottom lip trembling.

Her expression fell immediately, lips pursing like she was holding back a sea of emotions. "N-no, doll…you're not gonna die, I swear to ya, I swear." She assures, palm engulfing your cheek, wiping away stray tears that escaped your eyes.

"T-then…what…" You swallow thickly, your throat feeling constricted, as if you were swallowing pins and needles. Unable to finish your sentence, you look away, spacing out.

"Hey, hey…Look at me, baby." Her voice came out as a soft plea, unlike anything you'd ever heard fall from her lips before. The unfamiliar nickname felt…comforting, the simple word causing you to lean into her touch absentmindedly as you met her gaze once again.

She looked like the epitome of worry, eyes glazed over. Her lips parted slightly as her other hand, scrupulously, reached down to rub small circles into your shoulder.

"Nothin' bad s'gonna happen 'cause of last night, absolutely nothin', I promise…" She maundered, maintaining a level of reticence that seemed impossible to break through.

"Feels different, Sev…" You mumble, thoughts overlapping and forming clusters, causing your head to spin.

She hung onto every word, nodding even when her face contorted in confusion. "Different how?" She questioned, shifting a bit closer to your seated form.

"…Feels more personal, being around you…I-I don't know how to explain it, not really." Is all you're able to muster, cheeks heating at the lack of articulation in your words.

She nods once more, a flicker of emotion dancing across her expression, though it seemed almost impossible to decipher what she was thinking.

"…Please say something.." You exasperate, hand reaching out to grasp the fabric of her shirt, desperate for something to hold on to.

But she doesn't. She doesn't say anything. She simply leans back, her varnished eyes evoking incoherence. Your expression falls at her detachment, clutching the material tighter in your palm.

"Sev…" You mumble, leaning forward in an attempt to meet her gaze. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, so fast you swear you could hear it through the heavy stillness of the moment.

After a short while, a sigh falls from her lips, and she meets your gaze once more. Her eyes continued to glint with a sentiment you weren't sure you wanted to decipher. She gently caressed your cheek, the cool sensation prickling at your skin.

Then, her hand trailed down, the callouses marginally abrasive against the column of your throat. Your body shuddered instinctively, wincing slightly as her fingers circled the bite marks.

She shook her head, sighing yet again as her shoulders slumped. She pursed her lips, hand leaving your skin and reaching down to unzip the first aid kit she had dug out of the cabinet.

As she tended to your wounds, the silence grew oppressive. Each brush of her skin against yours sends a jolt up your spine. The tension between you two simmered, and you were unsure when it would boil over. If she would even allow it to.

The fibrous cotton of the gauze grazed your raw flesh, causing your body to lurch forward instinctively. Sevika's eyes lingered on the harm that she's caused, a glint of pusillanimity coursing beneath her skin.

She's withdrawing, and you know it. The way she recedes into an invisible shell, her arm dropping to her side. You panic.

Mindlessly, your hand reaches out. Fingers wrapping around the back of her neck, pulling her closer as you crash your lips onto hers. The despondency of your rashness radiating in waves, fingers digging into her skin, leaving behind crescent shapes.

Your lips sloppily envelop hers, only halting your actions when your brain catches up to your body; a mortifying realization that she isn't kissing back. You pull away, opening your mouth to speak up, but nothing comes out.

Sevika’s lips parted, her eyes wide with astonishment. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

Heat flushed through your body, tears pricking at your eyes as you silently berated yourself. Your lips moved on autopilot, voice trembling as you stammered out an apology.

“I-I’m so sor—” Before you could finish, she silenced you, her lips brushing softly against yours. Her hands slid to your hips, grounding you.

She pulled you onto her lap, deepening the kiss with a practiced confidence that made your previous attempts feel clumsy and uncertain.

A low hum vibrated in her chest as her hands traveled lower, gripping your ass and pulling you flush against her.

You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, your tongue tracing the seam of her lips, hungry for more.

She chuckled, her tongue tangling with yours, playful and teasing. In one fluid motion, she stood, your legs wrapping around her waist as she carried you from the restroom.

Without breaking the kiss, she nudged open your bedroom door and laid you gently on the bed, positioning herself between your legs. Her hand slid up your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin.

You looped your arms around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer. She broke the kiss, hesitating for a moment, gazing down at you with reverence.

You glanced up at her with half-lidded eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. “Please, Sev…” the soft plea escaped your lips absentmindedly, a tinge of desperation lacing your tone.

With a hefty sigh, she leaned in, peppering kisses on your fluttering pulse point. “Use your words, baby…Tell me what you want.” She gruffed, her voice a gentle command.

“Want you to touch me,” You whisper, balling up the fabric of her blazer in your fist. She simply hummed in response, nipping at the skin right underneath your jawline before soothing the sting with her tongue.

“Ask me nicely.” She directed. Her voice was unwavering and controlled, despite the way her body shuddered while hovering above yours. 

“Please,” You swallowed thickly, adrenaline pumping through your blood. “Please touch me, Sevi…Need it so bad.” You entreated, reaching down to tug on the buckle of her belt.

A groan fled her throat at the desperation radiating off your actions. The way you felt under her was causing her head to spin. She slid a calloused palm up your shirt, the cool sensation provoking you to shiver.

Sevika pulled back momentarily to appraise the way the fabric rid up your stomach. She let out a satisfied grumble, tugging the article off before discarding it somewhere on her floor.

“Beautiful,” Her voice–a whisper–carried a hint of astonishment. Her eyes roaming the newly exposed skin in reverence before they met yours. Lust, adornment and…something deeper swam in her orbs.

Her fingers made quick work of removing your jeans and panties, the articles joining your shirt on the floor. The atmosphere grew charged as Sevika looked down. Eyes darkening at the sight of your slick dripping down onto the cotton sheets. 

Without another word, she leaned down, propping one of your legs on her shoulders as she placed open-mouthed kisses up your thigh. Her gaze remained unyielding as she did so, almost like she was daring you to break eye contact.

You let out a quiet sigh, melting against the pillows as you lost yourself in the moment. Then, a choked gasp rushes past your parted lips as she latches her mouth onto your clit, circling and suckling on the sensitive nub.

A string of mewls leaves your mouth, a hand reaching down to tangle in her hair. She hums against you, the vibrations eliciting louder noises from you.

Her tongue explores your folds, skillfully gliding across every spot that caused you to cry out in pleasure. She knew exactly how to make you feel good, like she had done this a million times before. Though you weren't sure if such a glaring observation was horrifying or enticing. 

However, your train of thought is effectively derailed as she curls her tongue in your pussy, the gummy walls contracting against the sudden intrusion.

“O-oh my god, i’m gonna cum…” You cry out, tugging on her dark locks as you feel yourself begin to tumble over the edge. Then, she stops.

Your eyes bolt open, confusion written across your face as she meets your gaze once more. “Not yet…” She mumbled before leaning in to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on the tip of her tongue.

With your protests dying out as she seemingly swallows you whole, you allow yourself to melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck.

She chuckles at your eagerness, palming the swell of your breast before trailing her hand back down your abdomen. Your hand once again dashes back down to tug at her belt, the metal clicking softly against her zipper.

Her prosthetic comes up to gently remove your hand. “No touchin’, baby, let me take care of you.”

Before you can protest, her other hand sneaks down to gently thumb your clit, the newly familiar feeling regressing you further into the sensations coursing through your veins.

“That's right, sweet girl, just feel.” She coos gently, coaxing two fingers into your leaky hole. 

You bite down on your lip to muffle any loud noises, whimpering as your walls flutter around the digits. “S’full…” 

She nods against your neck, caressing your waist with her prosthetic as a means for comfort. “I know baby, I know…Just gotta stretch you out.” She exasperates, fingers scissoring inside of you.

Any pain that was provoked from her touch quickly faded away into pulsing pleasure as she curled her fingers upwards.

A moan escaped your lips and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, arching your body off the bed. “F-feels so good…” You whimper, hips grinding down against her knuckles. The pads of her fingertips brushing against your sweet spot like a soothing balm on the glaring arousal in your gut. 

“Takin’ m’fingers like such a good girl…” She grunted, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, her fingers working you with expert precision.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself get close again. Lewd squelching sounds accompanied the creaking of the bed frame as she plunged her fingers into your leaky pussy.

“Close?” She asked, though it had to have been rhetorical. The high-pitched moans escaping your lips after every thrust had to have been an answer in itself.

“Y-yeah, i’m…” You cut yourself off with a rather loud whimper, seeing stars as she repeatedly hit your sweet spot.

“Yeah?” She drawled. Her voice came out lower…huskier than usual. Despite your fuzzy state, the change in her tone didnt go unnoticed

You nod wordlessly, clinging onto her rumpled blazer for dear life. She chuckles softly, fangs poking out to gently caress the pulse point.

You swallow thickly, heart hammering against your chest like a bird in a gilded cage. She tensed up as you did so, leaning down to shower your neck with affection as she worked you closer and closer.

The second your orgasm crashed down on you, Sevika buried her fangs into the side of your neck, feeding with a twisted sense of reverence.

Loud moans filled the room as her fingers continued to plow into you, prolonging the intensity of your orgasm. 

The sensations were nearly overwhelming, the impalation of her fangs, the curl of her fingers. Each second passing slipped you further into a catatonic state. 

She forced herself to pull away, feeling you grow limp under her steady grasp. She looked down, eyes still gleaming with hunger, but laced with concern.

“Oh, baby…” She muttered softly, retracting her fingers from your hole. She leaned down to take you in another kiss, this one almost cautious, like she was handling glass.

She adjusted to hover above you, her prosthetic propped on her elbow, the other hand gently caressing your cheek. As you come back to earth, your vision sharpens, the world settling into focus.

"There you are..." She cooed, brushing away a stray tear that had slid down your face. "My sweet girl...Y'alright?" She asked, a tinge of concern lacing her soft tone.

You nod slowly, taking deep breaths in order to anchor your thoughts. She hummed, her hand trailing down to gently rub your chest in gentle, relaxed circles.

The room was filled with the soft cadence of your breathing and the distant hum of late-night traffic drifting in from the city below. The calloused pads of her knuckles trace your skin, a touch that weaves unease and comfort together in your gut.

Your eyes dart up to meet hers. Manhattan’s city lights flicker across her face, illuminating a spark of affection in her gaze. But beneath it, you catch the shadow of reluctance—a tinge of lament that lingers, unspoken.

And in that moment, you are painfully aware that, despite the closeness of your bodies, you are still emotionally worlds apart. Yet as her skin brushes yours, you wonder if, someday, the distance might close…Or if this ache is all you’ll ever share.

Taglist: @half-of-a-gay @sapphiccup @iamaboringrattat @spinback-kiva @theoreticalfreak @moodient @diouna @helaenabugmom @womenlover360 @sumisamente @thatsmadiculous @madzorwhatever @vkumi @boom58 @h2pinky @glittzygorilla @koralinebox @kay-khronicals @belldonic @rosebg @thehoneybeestings @sunflowerwinds @dyketoast @dvrkhcld @blasphemous-riot @blacksiren777 @mommyissuesismypersonality @leeidk87 @furrytaesss @summerwriting @kissesfornat @holdmegentlylikehamburger @violetsforroses98

note: tysm for reading! i had a lot of fun experimenting with the horror genre :D any criticism/feedback appreciated!

[sevsgiirl]

it’ll always be heartwarming to me to see sevika - who’s a butch woc in media being written so many fanfics for as well as having so many edits and fanarts. and how the majority of those works are made by sapphics. do you know how amazing that is for the minorities she represents? a muscular south asian butch being THIS loved will always be a big deal to me. she deserves the hype and so much more.

[sevsgiirl]

— got lovesick all over my bed.

sevika week 2025, smut and fluff: day 7.

synopsis: due to being preoccupied at work for long hours, sevika hasn’t been able to focus on you and your needs, and it only became more obvious when she came home one day to a pleasant surprise.

word count: 1.9k

tags: top!sevika, bottom!reader, masturbation, strap-ons referred to as cock, daddy kink.

note: my final entry for sevika week!! I had a great doing this event and thank you to everyone who tuned in! I hope you guys like day 7, the prompt is smut and fluff ;)

you know you could never be mad at sevika.

it just so happens that the circumstances are constantly stacked against you two. she’d never do anything to upset you on purpose, but it’s impossible not to feel slightly disheartened that she’s always away for work to the point that you only get to see her during the night when she’s already spent and ready to head to bed.

then you’d wake up the next morning alone, with a note telling you that she’s sorry and that she’d make it up to you.

it was bad when she was working for silco but it only got worse when she became councilor.

spending time with her only ever happens once in a blue moon now and you kept telling yourself to sympathize with her situation, but it’s difficult. especially when you already felt like you came second after her job.

you didn’t want to come across as clingy, god knows sevika doesn’t want another problem added to her plate, but at the end of the day you still had needs and she was still your partner.

so to hell with it if you came across as bitter. although you would never tell it to her face that her busy schedule upset you, your actions spoke volumes.

and sevika wasn’t blind. she’s been feeling guilty about it ever since you two moved to piltover and she kept telling herself, again and again, that she’ll cut off a few work hours from the council to focus on you. but those damn pilties just wouldn’t let her.

and now you give her weak smiles that don’t even reach your eyes when she comes home late, knowing she’ll be too sleepy to even stay up and cuddle with you. but you’ll just wave her off saying that ‘it’s fine’ when she knows it’s not. she can see it in the way you turn your back on her in bed or when she kisses you goodbye after breakfast and you barely even reciprocate it.

she knows it’s unfair for you, and she knows you don’t have the heart to speak up about it because you know how much her work means to her, but she never wants you to think, even for a split second, that it matters more than your relationship.

so she did what needed to be done. she filed a report to the council demanding that she needed some time off, even just for a week, to focus on personal matters at home which surprisingly, they agreed to. and she almost fell to her knees in joy because finally she’ll be able to make it up to you, because no doubt you’ve been feeling neglected.

she doesn’t even want to think about it - you at home all alone just waiting for her to walk through the door at any moment. not bothering to wait up for her during dinner and looking at her empty seat as you ate all by yourself.

god, she feels like an asshole.

she doesn’t even want to think about how sexually deprived you must be too. you didn’t need to say it but she can feel it whenever you prolong kisses in hopes of turning them into full-on makeout sessions, then her alarm would go off just in time, forcing you to pull away, frustrated.

but she’ll fix that. she’ll spend the following week cooking you breakfast in bed and making love to you in ways that makes up for loss time because she knows you’ve missed her - what she didn’t know, however, was just how much.

as soon as shoola dismissed her from work she practically ran across piltover to your home, trying to be quiet when she walked through the threshold of your apartment. not bothering to call your name, as she wanted her early arrival to be a surprise.

the apartment was silent, too silent that she almost got worried you weren’t here, not until she heard it.

it was barely audible at first - the sighs and the whimpers. her eyebrows knitted in confusion as her feet dragged across the corridors leading up to your bedroom, where the door was slightly agape.

she automatically assumed you must’ve hurt yourself or were experiencing cramps, but when she peeked through the gap that showed her a glimpse of your shared bed, she was immediately taken aback because there you were:

flat on your back with your panties pulled down to your ankles and the cups of your bra hiked up all the way up to your chest.

your nipples pebbling in the cold air as your fingers made quick work to rub circles around your clit.

your head thrown back as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, suppressing the moans that threatened to spill out of you but it was no use.

your moans were soft and desperate, and she knew you were finding it hard to get yourself off because with the way she fucks you, even ten of your fingers wouldn’t be able to wring an orgasm out of you.

but you persisted, sliding two of your fingers inside of you as you pumped them in and out, your breathing shallow.

“fuck, sev…” she felt a pool of warmth flood her insides when she heard you mutter her name, either you were envisioning her fingers, tongue or cock plunging into that needy hole of yours.

you looked like the human embodiment of sin, all sweaty and quivering as you kept grinding onto your hand thinking it’d do something.

and just when she sensed that it wasn’t enough, did you take the initiative to flip yourself over so you were on your hands and knees.

snatching the pillow - her pillow - beside you as you slid it down to where it met your dripping cunt and began humping it.

it took every ounce of willpower she had not to slam the door open and jump into bed with you - to rip your fingers away because no one, not even you, should be touching your pussy and giving it the pleasure it needed.

instead, she stood by and watched you just a bit longer - because although she felt guilty that you had to resort to this while she was gone, she had to admit that this was the best thing she could’ve come home to.

with you riding her pillow in a frenzied pace, tongue sticking out as beads of sweat slid down on your hairline…

“daddy please,” you cried out as she held the edge of the door with a grip of steel “make me cum, I’m so close, fuck, my pussy needs it so bad.”

that did it. she couldn’t stand idly by as you got yourself off on anything that wasn’t her cock pounding into you.

with that, she stepped inside the room and made quick strides until she was a few feet away from you, but still you didn’t notice her, too caught up in your own little world…

“god, I need to cum so bad,” you gripped the sheets in your hands, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you sobbed “fuck, this is torture.”

“I know it is, bunny.”

jumping, you startled away from the pillow as you looked up to see sevika looming over the edge of the bed, her eyes clouded with lust.

you gulped “sev, baby, you’re home-“

“is this what you do while I’m gone?” she rasped “fucking yourself stupid on your fingers and failing?”

your mouth fell open, not knowing what to say until the situation dawned on you.

and she was shocked when instead of being met with shyness, you stared at her with pouted lips and irritated eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if only you were home to do it, you know.” you sassed, and just like that her initial guilt washed over her and she took a step closer towards you.

“oh bunny, I’m so sorry,” she reached out and cupped your jaw in her calloused palm “that was rude of me. you’re right, it’s my fault that you had to do this all by yourself.”

she bent down and kissed you, making you sigh as your hands shot up and squeezed her shoulders, trying to find some stability.

but your mind was fuzzy with lust and dear god, did you miss her. the feel of her, the smell of her - strong, rough and warm.

you couldn’t help it as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of her neck, rubbing yourself against her like some sort of feline suffering through her heat and offering herself up to her mate.

you shuddered when her mech arm clutched you by the hip and pulled you closer, her breath hot against the shell of your ear as she whispered:

“did you come already?”

you shook your head, so desperate you could almost cry “n-no.”

sevika hummed “let’s fix that then.”

𐙚˙⋆.˚

you two have been at it for hours.

yet you kept taking it and taking it - the way she harshly slammed her cock into you without so much as a pause, her pelvis smacking against the back of your thighs as the wet sounds of your pussy squelching filled the room.

letting out moans so obscene you almost sounded like a pornstar.

“d-daddy, feels so good.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you arched your back and met sevika’s thrust by bouncing your ass sensually against her strap “missed your cock. missed the way it feels inside me, missed the way you fuck me…”

“y-yeah?” sevika was on the brink of ruin as her hand squeezed your rear, the skin folding in her palm “you missed the way daddy fucks you, don’t you?”

“yes, yes, yes!” you cried out as she began a punishing pace that made you jolt violently “don’t leave again. I need you here. don’t make me fuck myself all on my own, it’s not the same. n-need your cock,”

she nodded earnestly, leaning down so her chest pressed against your back while she wrapped both her flesh and mech arm around your waist - driving into you with a sense of urgency while her fingers found the hood of your clit and rubbed. hard.

making you jerk as your body tensed, mouth falling open into a silent cry as sevika held you tighter as you rode out your orgasm.

“that’s it,” she cooed “that’s my pretty girl. so good to me, fuck…”

she peppered kisses down your throat as you sobbed, looking for her right hand as you intertwined her fingers with your own.

“never leave me again like that, please…” you let out a sniffle as sevika’s chest tightened “I hate it when you’re away,”

she nodded, wiping your tears away “I’ll try to talk to the council and see if I could cut off some hours to get back home early, okay? for now, I asked if I could have a few days off to attend to personal matters,” she kissed your temple, making you melt “those personal matters being you and your needs, of course.”

you hummed, a smile on your face as you lit up at the news.

“do you want me to draw you a bath?” she asked as you gave her a small nod “okay, come on.”

she stood up and took the strap tightened around her hips before throwing it carelessly onto the bed, making you giggle as she slid one of her arms at the back of your knees while the other held your waist before scooping you up in her arms.

you were already feeling tired and your limbs were sore but it didn’t really matter, she’d take care of you. all you needed to do was just shut your pretty little mind off.

“… I missed you so much, sev,” you muttered, eyes closed.

she pulled you closer and sighed “I missed you too, bunny.”

[sevsgiirl]

— when i get you alone, it’s so simple.

sevika week 2025: alone with me, day 6.

synopsis: sevika has had it out for you since the start. letting everyone know just how much she hated you and couldn’t stand you, but that didn’t seem to be the case once it’s just you two.

word count: 2.4k

tags: bottom!sevika, top!reader, jealousy, oral sex.

note: happy day 6 of sevika week, y’all !! we’re finally back to some good ‘ol fashion smut. honestly this isn’t my absolute favorite because I currently have a raging headache and wrote this while not feeling my best. but I hope you guys like it regardless <3

sevika can’t stand you.

she can’t stand the sight of you, being in the same room as you - your laugh, your snarky remarks about her age, your impulsiveness in missions. all of it.

a lot of her co-workers like to think she’s just bitter or has a personal vendetta against you that she doesn’t want to disclose when really, the older woman just finds you annoying.

ever since she met you she couldn’t tolerate your egotistical behavior. silco told her to cut you some slack simply because you’re younger, then again she’s worked with people of the same age as you. clearly it’s just your personality that’s the problem.

and honestly, you’ve given up trying to understand why sevika holds a lot of animosity towards you.

at first, it perplexed you because as far as you know, you’ve never done anything to agitate the older woman.

when silco hired you, you just did what you were told. you never talked back to your superiors and you’ve always tried to be as approachable as possible. so really, you don’t get it.

and that’s when it started to get annoying, her blatant hatred towards you. how she doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.

she’s always rolling her eyes at your ideas or walking out of the room whenever you showed up. truth be told, it hurt, because although she was never civilized with you, you at least wanted to get along with her since she was silco’s right hand woman.

she was well respected and feared by many, so getting on her good side would mean a lot - but it’s obvious she never had any intention of letting you get to know her.

so you basically accepted that if she was so hell bent on giving you a hard time, is that you were going to be ten time more insufferable than she was.

and good god, did she hate you for it.

𐙚˙⋆.˚

silco’s had enough.

it was obvious to everyone in the undercity, the last drop and the people that you worked with that the two of you clearly hated each other.

at first, silco didn’t really care just as long as you two got your work done. he had no business interfering with whatever petty squabbles his employees were involved in, but if it meant that it got in the way of your performances, then that’s a whole different story.

it started little by little with you and sevika bickering during meetings, to sending reports to silco’s office saying you didn’t want to be grouped together during assignments, and he dismissed all of it up until one of your fights interfered with one of the missions.

forcing him to sit both of you down like he was scolding a pair of toddlers.

“I only ask is that you focus on your jobs. tear each other’s heads off once you’ve clocked out of your shifts but bringing personal matters at work is simply unprofessional,” he reprimanded.

sevika didn’t dare speak a word as you instantly went into defense mode.

“well, the firelights wouldn’t have destroyed one of the cargos if only she stopped being a know-it-all!” you gestured to sevika who only glared at you “I was told to retrieve the payment but she kept meddling,”

“only because I can’t trust you to get the exact amount right, the last time silco asked you to get it we were short of the actual amount that was needed,”

“by one pound! I told silco to deduct it from my paycheck because it didn’t mean that big of a deal!”

“maybe to you it’s not but it’s little things like this that turn into even bigger problems I have to deal with in the end!”

“oh shut up, you just want an excuse to nag at me because you’re old and bitter!”

“what the fuck did you just say, you little-“

“okay, that’s enough,” silco bellowed as his thunderous voice halted your squabbling.

he rubbed his temples and lets out a groan “I expect both of you to put an end to whatever childish rivalry this is, because if not there will be serious consequences.” he warned, eyes narrowed into slits “understood?”

silence stretched across the room as you nodded your head, meanwhile sevika only huffed before rising from her seat and walked out the room.

causing silco to let out an agitated sigh “and I thought no one can get on her nerves more than jinx,”

𐙚˙⋆.˚

sevika had no intention of waving the white flag, her first resort was to just argue with you less and avoid you like the plague to reduce chances of fights from occurring.

if she were being honest, she didn’t even know why you angered her so much. perhaps the others were right when they said it was the difference in age and experience hence why you two couldn’t get along.

but it’s not like you were actively reckless, sure you had your moments but the only time you let yourself slip was during the payment issue, which was the first and only time you made a mistake yet she hung it over your head constantly.

she could put an end to her vendetta if she wanted to, which was something she debated about while she was lost in thought playing cards at the last drop after silco dismissed the two of you from his office.

trying to stay focused but her mind was elsewhere, specifically you.

it didn’t help when she heard the door open and there you were, strolling in as you signaled thieram to serve you a drink.

her eyes never leaving you as the people in her booth started calling her name “hello? sevika are you there?” which she ignored.

and it stayed on you even until some random girl walked up to you and started chatting you up, making her nerves feel like they were on fire because it’s this. it’s fucking moments like this where she realized she couldn’t stand you.

why she couldn’t stand the sight of you smiling, laughing or having a good time.

and most importantly, why she couldn’t stand the sight of you enjoying the company of somebody else.

god, she couldn’t fucking stand it. how it was so easy for you to approach everyone on your first day except her, and how you had a good word for everyone except her.

how even if she wanted to make amends with you she couldn’t because you act so differently with her.

and she wanted not to care, wanted to let it slide, but the thought of wandering hands sliding down your waist as you let this random chick at the bar chat you up angered her in ways she couldn’t even comprehend.

the next thing she knew, she walked over to you and towered over your smaller frame while you looked up and met her infuriated gaze with a look of confusion.

“sevika, what are you-“

“so it’s like this, huh? after silco told us off and gave us a warning, you’d rather slack off?” she said indignantly as your eyes widened.

you scoffed “well, it’s not like I’m the only one standing here, aren’t? from what I can tell you were playing cards just now.”

“at least I’m not chatting random people up and getting shit faced, aren’t I?”

you were confused at the sudden jab she made at the girl you were talking to, who had basically ran off to god knows where after seeing sevika.

you gawked at her, wondering where the hell all of this was coming from “you can’t be serious. silco told us to get along yet here you are picking another fight with me. seriously, what is your problem? are you so miserable at your job you can’t stand the sight of others having a life outside of theirs?”

“has silco’s missions been too much for you that you can’t go out and have a good time anymore? that’s why you’re taking it out on me?” at this point, you knew you were crossing the line, especially with the way sevika’s jaw ticked and her nostrils flared, but you continued.

“it is, isn’t it? don’t have much time to go to the gardens anymore?” you smirked “all pissed off because you haven’t had a good fuck recently?”

that’s what did it. sevika didn’t expect you to stoop that low and it caught her off guard for a second, but once she collected her bearings she narrowed her eyes at you, both of her fists clenched on her sides.

“everyone…” her voice traveled through the room like lightning and took everybody aback “out!”

they didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling to get out of their seats as fast as possible until it was just the two of you left in the bar. no possible witnesses, no nothing.

yup, you were definitely dying.

she took a dangerous step towards you, making you squirm “sevika, I was kidding-“

“you don’t know how to shut up, do you? all you ever do is piss me off. either by slacking off, wearing your skimpy clothing to work that practically shows off your ass cheeks, and then you’ll go ahead and flirt with random chicks at the bar as if you’re begging for attention.” she punctuated every word, venom dripping off of her tone.

“you beg for everyone’s attention but can’t have the decency to show me respect. always fucking ignoring me. what’s your issue, huh?” it was like a dam broke loose and she couldn’t be bothered to act civilized anymore, a culmination of all her frustrations with you finally bubbling beneath the surface “you’re so fucking obnoxious. it’s like silco hired you just to get on my nerves.

her chest rose up and down as she finished with her ranting, but what she didn’t expect once she was done was for you to be smirking up at her - a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“… I get it now,” you said, your tone quiet but sly “all this time you’ve been bitching at me and it’s not because you actually hate me… but because you want my attention?”

sevika was at a loss for words, trying her best to make a counter argument but all of it died down when your hand found purchase at the front of her shirt and you pulled her closer.

her face now inches away from yours as you stared into her eyes, an allure to your actions.

“you’re mad at me because I give everyone else attention except you?” you mused, your lips brushing against hers as a shiver ran down her spine.

“well, you got me where you want me.” you whispered, a challenge “now we’re all alone,”

you didn’t even give her a moment to react before you captured her lips with your own, pulling her against you so her strong legs trapped yours against the bar as she kissed you back with as much fervor, not even bothering to lie through her teeth or call your bluff. because deep down, she knew you were right.

a small whine slipped past your lips when her hands squeezed the sides of your hips, her body warm and hard against yours as you felt her pelvis grind slightly against your clothed crotch.

you pulled away, all shallow breathing and heavy lidded eyes as you stepped down from the bar stool and kneeled down in front of her.

she stumbled a bit and looked down at you, not quite believing what she was seeing when your nimble fingers started trailing up her muscular legs until it reached her belt loop.

but you stopped, throwing her a doubtful stare and she swore she almost melted.

“I’m not doing this unless it’s something you really want,” you said, and she lets out a shuddering breath before she took the initiative herself and started undoing the leather fastened around her waist.

she unzipped her pants and you were quick to replace her hands with your own, seeing the wet patch that stained her tight boxers as your mouth watered at the sight.

“oh baby…” you purred with a cheeky grin “could’ve just told me all this time this is what you wanted all along.”

you didn’t even give her time to respond, as you pulled down both her pants and her underwear to be greeted by the sight of her brown, puffy folds glistening with her arousal.

she tried to maintain her balance by leaning against the bar, arms clutching the edge until her knuckles turned white as you drew a finger down her slit.

“such a slut for me, sev.” you muttered before you took her pussy into your warm mouth.

her hips bucked as the sensation of your tongue dipping into the tight clutch of her needy hole sent her into a spiral, clutching the edge of the bar for stability but it was no use as she started grinding down onto your tongue in desperate little circles.

the ends of your lips curling up at her needy behavior as you slurped her up, the sounds of her wetness dripping down from your nose to your chin, filling the quiet atmosphere of the bar. her breathy whimpers getting higher in pitch as she began riding your face in earnest.

so desperate for her release as you spread her lips apart and began lapping at her dripping cunt.

“that’s my girl…” you slurred, so pussy drunk as sevika continued using your mouth to get off “just needed to be alone with me so I could fuck the attitude out of you, huh?.”

with that, you slipped your tongue to prod at her clenching hole and her movements stuttered as you clutched the meat of her ass in a tight grip, encouraging her to bounce on your face while you hummed in satisfaction as her slick poured into your mouth like honey.

you brought your hand up and rubbed tight circles around her clit and just like that, she fell apart.

the coil in her stomach instantly snapping as she came with her back arching off the counter, letting out the most obscene moans as your licking and sucking never once faltered, and she rode it out until she began to feel overstimulated.

you pulled away, the bottom half of your face coated with her cum and your pupils so dilated you looked almost animalistic - yet when sevika stared down at you, she couldn’t help but to think to herself how she hasn’t seen anything more infuriating but beautiful at the same time.

“well,” you let out a breathy chuckle, a smirk teasing at the corners of your mouth as you licked your lips “good news for silco is we finally got along, didn’t we?”

[sevsgiirl]

— this love is glowing in the dark.

sevika week 2025: phantom pains, day 5.

synopsis: sevika has spent most of her life not asking for help, pushing it away even. but when the time came where the pain became too much to bear, she looked to you for salvation.

word count: 1.6k

tags: TONS of angst but with comfort, mentions of injury and recovery.

note: happy day 5 of sevika week, loves! for today’s prompt I chose phantom pains and I really like this one because I was able to explore more of sevika’s struggles with the loss of her arm. so I hope you guys like this too!

she doesn’t want you to see her like this.

she knows her moments of weakness won’t make you love her any less. in the time that you two have been together, you’ve witnessed each other at your highest and at your lowest, and you’ve told her time and time again the same exact thing:

“I won’t go anywhere just because there are days where you don’t feel like your best. you do so much for others already, you don’t need to be everything all at once. especially when it comes to me.”

and she’s held onto that promise very dearly, but she’d be lying if she said that just because you told her you’d love her in spite of her short comings doesn’t mean she’d allow herself to show them to you.

then the incident happened.

when you got the news, you wanted to tear silco a new one. bury him six feet under if you had to, because the sight that greeted you when ran informed you about the explosion and what it did to sevika’s arm, it took everything in you not to break down in tears when you rushed into singed’s lab and saw her lying motionless on the metal bedding where singed performed his surgery.

you had to be physically pulled back when you tried getting to her.

your eyes were bloodshot and narrowed into slits as silco met your fiery gaze with a look of controlled sympathy.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but rest assured singed will do everything in his power to fix the situation,” he said, referring to her injury as if it was the common flu.

your jaw fell open “inconvenience? inconvenience?! she lost her fucking arm, silco! she’s unconscious for crying out loud! I can’t believe you’d let something like this happen to her! I can’t fucking believe you!”

he let you scream, cry and curse at him until you lost your voice because he knew it was your only way of showing contempt, because anything else was risky - and even you knew that. so you screamed until your throat stung and ran dragged you out of the lab and back to the last drop.

rubbing your back as you cried into your hands, offering their support.

“hey, it’s okay.” ran reassured “she’ll get through it, she’s strong.”

“it’s not about being strong, ran. but this has gone too far. silco knows how much sevika wants to be of use and he fucking took advantage of that. now she played martyr and it caused her so much more than what she should’ve been willing to sacrifice for him,” you spat out, venom dripping from your words.

ran gulped, not knowing what to say “and I understand that, but it’s not like there’s anything we can do.”

you hated the way they said it, like it was a lost cause. as if everything that happened couldn’t have been prevented when you know if you had been there, nothing would’ve happened to her.

but you know her. it’s not like this was out of character for sevika, she’s always been sacrificial, not knowing her limits, and it infuriated you because you knew this attitude of hers was eventually going to lead her down a path she won’t be able to undo.

and you were right.

but still, despite your frustrations you stayed beside her every step of the way and helped her with recovery. it took months for her even to properly get out of bed without having one side of her body completely drag her down, but she was quick to adapt like she always does.

silco went out of his way to commission one of the chembarons a prosthetic for her, not only because he felt like he owed it to her but because you knew he still needed her to be of use to him.

and that angered you in ways where you felt like killing him, especially when you saw the vials of shimmer attached to the mech arm that served to enhance her senses, because in his words:

“due to the loss of your arm it’d be harder to engage in combat. because if you’re still willing to work for me, I need you to be at your absolute best,”

when she told you what he said you could only scoff in response “he has a lot of fucking nerve to ask so much from you after what you’ve already done for him,”

sevika sighed, shaking her head “I was the one who jumped in front of him-“

“still! the least he could do is not act like a jackass! as if you owe him your life!”

“he’s doing what he can to rebuild the under city, and I owe my life to zaun. what I do for him, I do for our people,” she told you, her eyes sunken and pleading “so don’t be unfair. please.”

indignation seeped in as you stared at her with your eyebrows furrowed “I’m not. but you wanna know what is unfair? risking your life for a cause that’s going to take you apart one by one,” you argued “and by the looks of it, you’re already getting there,”

it was hard to navigate the outcome of the explosion but you knew sevika’s well being was above your pride and your resentment.

because yes, even though you were mad at silco it’s not like you can reverse time. and you didn’t want sevika to feel as though what the explosion did to her was a burden to you when it’s not.

you’d walk through the ends of the earth if it meant you’d keep her safe and that she was well taken care of.

that’s why it broke your heart every single day as you watched her recover from her injury and how it just took a toll on her.

whether it was during the day while doing simple chores, or at night when she’d suddenly shoot up from bed, clutching her left shoulder as the pain of the explosion lingered and thrummed through her veins like poison.

she’d let out curses but she’d never shed a tear, insisting time and time again that she was alright. to not make a huge fuss over it.

“I’m fine,” had become a mantra in her daily vocabulary.

and when the time came her new prosthetic was made, you could see the relief on her face knowing from that day onwards, it was going to be less unbearable managing her day to day life. because now at least a piece of her wasn’t missing, or so she’d like to think.

but it wasn’t easy getting used to it at first, especially when screws needed to be tightened and she kept telling you that she got it, that she didn’t need any help, that she was fine. that she’s got this.

but it wasn’t until one night she came home all battered and bruised with her prosthetic in ruins and hanging off, that she could only look at you with somber eyes, a million words being exchanged yet not a single one being spoken.

again, she hated that you had to see her like this. because she was supposed to be the stronger one between you two - the one who protected the other and not the other way around.

“I’m fine, I can take it from here,” she said in a grave tone as she reached forward to try and grab the screw driver from you.

to which you pulled away, settling it down far away from her and before she could protest, you took her face in between your palms, forcing her to look you in the eye as sevika stared back and saw the way your lashes were stained with tears.

“sev, stop. just stop. I know it’s in your nature to want to do everything by yourself, but please just for once. let me help you,”

“I already said that I don’t need-“

“then I might as well leave,”

her heart immediately sunk to her stomach, staring at you with so much panic in her eyes “w-what are you-“

“if you’re so hell bent on not wanting help from me I don’t see the point of this relationship if all you ever do is push me away when I try to be there for you. I’m not doing this out of fucking pity, vika.” you hissed, the fire in your eyes as strong as ever as you glared at her.

then it dwindled into something softer, more vulnerable, frightened “… I’m doing this because I love you.” you said, your voice merely a whisper “because I’d do anything for you the same way you’d do anything for me. and if something happened to you again I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,”

she was quiet, letting your words sink in as you reached for her right hand and laced your fingers with her own - bringing it up as you kissed her bloodied knuckles.

lifting your head as you stared at the light that emitted from beneath her scars, and how they glowed brighter with each deep breath she took.

and how it reminded you of the the time when you told her that you saw her as a painting, so perfect and striking.

and you still stand by it now, even when the paint has cracked and chipped off at the edges.

she was beautiful then, and my god, was even more beautiful now. even when she doesn’t see it.

“I love you,” you muttered “and I’m here even when the pain gets so unbearable - I’ll shoulder it for you if I have to. just please, don’t hide it away from me.”

she spoke not a single word, but instead, she let herself fall into your arms as you caught her, her head being cushioned by your shoulder as she lets out a shaky breath.

“… it hurts,” she muttered, not bothering to conceal it any longer “it hurts so fucking bad,”

you closed your eyes, holding her tighter “I know, baby. I know.”

[sevsgiirl]

I’m wet. oh my fucking GOD 😩😩😩😩😩

｡𖦹°‧ sevika + size kink

imagine sevika with a raging size kink. not just because she’s big—though she is, built like war and ruin—but because you’re not. you’re soft, sweet, and pretty in that way that makes her jaw tense, like she wants to ruin you to see what your voice sounds when you cry.

cw: size kink, biting, slight choking, strap referred as cock by sev, sevika fucks rough ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

and the worst part? you have no idea what you’re doing to her. you’re always teasing her without meaning to—like you haven’t figured out what sevika could do to you if she used even a fraction of her strength.

just like today.

you’re in one of her shirts and gray panties—barely covering the tops of your thighs, laughing as you dart around the apartment barefoot. 

“bet you can’t catch me,” you giggle, glancing back over your shoulder with that look, like you think she won’t.

you’re fast.

sure.

but she’s stronger.

and the second you cut around the corner, laughing, sevika moves. she catches you like nothing—one arm wrapped around your waist, dragging you flush against her chest before you even register the shift.

“gotcha,” she mutters in your ear, voice rough.

you squirm, breath catching—your playful energy stuttering as she lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing. “sevika, that's not fair!”

“what was that, sweetheart?” she hums, already turning you in her grip, holding you in the air like a little toy. “thought i couldn’t catch you?”

you’re breathless, hands clutching her shoulders now, thighs pressing tight around her hips without thinking. and she feels it—the heat between your legs, the twitch in your muscles, the way your body melts from being handled.

“you don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?” she asks, staring at you with something dark behind her eyes.

you’re not smiling anymore, just wide-eyed, panting, and dizzy. you don’t even get the chance to answer—because sevika’s already got you pressed up against the nearest wall—the harshness of her action knocking the air out of your lungs. her body’s so close to yours, heat radiating off her, one knee slotted between your thighs to keep you there.

“you like that, huh?” sevika’s eyes rake over you, as her metal hand grabs your waist. “you want me to chase you around, like some fuckin’ game? do you get off to that?”

you whimper—still trying to squirm yourself away from her grip, only to realize she’s not even trying, she was just using the littlest of her strength to remind you she could crush you if she wanted.

“such a tease,” she whispers, lips brushing against your ear. “running around like you don’t know what you’re doing? think i don’t know how wet you get when i grab you like this?”

you can’t respond—all you can do is gasp when her free hand, slides down, until it pushes up her shirt you’re wearing, baring your panties—with an obvious soaked spot.

“fuckin’ knew it,” she breathes, voice lower. “this pretty pussy’s been begging for me all day. all you had to do was tell me—but you wanted to play games.”

you whimper, hips shifting. “please—”

“you want it?” she asks, grinding her knee up against your clothed pussy. “words, baby.”

“i want you, sev,” you breathe. “please.”

sevika cuts you off with a groan—pulling your panties to the side and circling your clit slowly with two fingers. “if you want this—” she murmurs, kissing your throat. “—you’re gonna take what i give you.”

she could’ve fucked you right there against the wall—had every intention of it, with your panties pulled to the side and your legs wrapped around her hips—but something in her eyes shifts.

control.

that’s what she wants.

not just to ruin you—but to own you.

sevika scoops you up, tossing you over her shoulder like nothing but a doll. you squeal, fists thudding weakly against her back as she walks, but you don’t really want her to stop—and she knows it.

“got energy in you?” she laughs, playfully smacking your ass. “we’ll fix that.”

she tosses you onto the bed face-first, hands already on the backs of your thighs, dragging you toward the center. you don’t peek when you hear her move around—already knowing what she’s doing. 

the mattress shifts as she climbs up behind you, heavy and looming, the creak of the bedframe almost obscene. her chest presses to your back—solid, wide, smothering—pinning you down with her weight. 

you try to wiggle, uselessly. “vika—”

“mhm, look at you,” she mutters, voice soaked in mockery as her hands drags your shirt over your back, exposing the curve of your spine, your waist, the swell of your ass. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

your back arches on instinct, needing something, but she presses down harder—grinding her hips against yours, and you finally feel the strap she’s wearing. it’s bigger than usual, and you know what you’re in for.

“so small,” she murmurs. “so damn easy to break. you don’t even know how much i’m holding back, do you?”

you moan something incoherent, nails clawing at the sheets as she lines herself up. “sev, please.”

“that’s right,” she purrs, sliding the head of the strap against your soaked pussy—not pushing in yet, just teasing. “take a deep breath for me, sweetheart.”

and when she sinks in, slowly, you whine—your body pushed into the mattress so hard you can barely move. she’s still atop you—chest against your back, one hand on your hips and the other gripping your jaw, keeping your head turned enough for her to look in your eyes.

“fuckin’ hell,” she groans, staring to move, steady and punishing—every thrust pushing you into the mattress. “look at you—taking it so well. my pretty girl.”

your legs try to close—too much, too full. sevika notices, pushing your legs open with one of hers—so easily you don’t even fight it.

“uh-uh,” she tsks. “you wanted it, now take it.”

you nod, biting your lip as you try and stare at her—the grip on your jaw tighter, as she fucks you with the same strength you tried to test earlier.

“this what you wanted?” she pants. “to feel how tiny you are under me? how useless you’re when i’ve got you like this.”

“yes—fuck—yes, sev,” you whine, barely able to answer as the strap hits that spot again, and again, and again.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

your brain is buzzing from how deep she was when she grabs a fistful of your shirt, and yanks you up.

“up,” she orders. “get up.”

your body obeys before you can register what she said, crawling weakly onto trembling hands and knees. she drags you to the edge of the bed, spinning you to face the full-length mirror.

“look at that,” she murmurs, settling behind you. “poor baby’s all dumb already.”

you try to turn, reaching for her without thinking—needy, desperate—but she grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back so you’re forced to look at your reflection.  face flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide and gleaming. 

“you’re going to watch,” sevika says. “you’re going to look at what you turn me into.”

sevika’s flushed too, sweat-slick, muscles flexing as she lines herself back up. she thrusts—hard, with no warming. 

your jaw drops open in a silent cry. “fuck, sevika—”

“you feel that, sweetheart?” she asks, hand still buried in your hair—the other splayed across your stomach to keep you still. “how deep am i?”

you can’t look away. not with the way she’s holding you. not when the mirror shows you everything in such a hypnotic way—her hips slamming into your ass, the way she’s watching your pussy take her strap. 

“such a needy girl,” sevika mocks. in response, you whimper, trying to look down—but she pulls your hair harder, dragging your gaze back to the mirror. “don’t look away—you’re gonna watch how pathetic you look begging for it.”

and you do look pathetic.

your body trembling, mouth falling open, eyes rolling back.

“fuckin’ melting for me,” she mutters, pressing down on your stomach. “such a mess for my cock.”

you’re moaning, babbling nonsense about how it was too much and how deep she was, hands scrabbling for anything to try and not seem too weak, but sevika’s relentless—thrusting harder, until you’re bouncing forward. 

“you wanted me mean, baby?” she growls. “then take it. show me what that pretty little body’s for.”

when your body finally shudders, eyes rolling back—you know she’s not done, not even close. because you see her staring at your reflection like it’s her new religion.

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your head is hanging low between your shoulders—her breath is hot on the back of your neck, her front is still pressed against your back. the moment is too quiet—just the soft drag of her fingers on your skin, the sound of your breathing.

you know sevika’s trying to give you a second to breathe, but you don’t want it.

deliberately, your hand reaches back. you find hers—rough, calloused, still shaking from holding herself back—and you bring it to your jaw, guiding her fingers with yours. your lips brush her thumb, and you open your mouth—letting her slide it past your lips.

sevika groans—the sound echoing in your spine, because she feels it, instantly. your submission. your softness. your weakness. the way you're practically telling to go ahead, keep going, take all of me.

“fuck, baby—” she mutters, eyes glued to the sight of you in the mirror—slack-jawed, your lips so swollen and pink drooling around her thumb. “such a dirty fuckin’ girl. you want it again?”

you nod, slowly—mouth still full. “mhm.”

her hand slips down to your throat, thumb still hooked on your bottom lip, using enough pressure to make your lashes flutter. her other hand slides back to her strap, teasing you with it—you whimper, as you're still so sensitive. 

“want me to use you?”  she asks, brows raising as your hips rock back against her. “that’s what i thought.”

sevika fucks you slower, deeper—not out of mercy, but because she wants to savor it. wants to feel you, listen to every little sound you make while you fall apart again. for her. only her.

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your skin’s already burning hot, oversensitive, humming with her weight. every place she’s touched you feels raw—owned. but it’s not enough for her, not yet, not until you look hers.

so she flips you—effortless, one big hand braced under your thigh as she rolls you to your back, pinning you there with the full weight of her hips between your legs. the strap’s still buried inside you as she drags your body right to the edge with every little movement.

your eyes are glassy, lips parted in a breathless whine—but she’s not even fucking you yet. she’s just watching, eyes locked on your face like she’s waiting for something. then she leans down—mouth at your collarbone and hand on your jaw. 

“you're mine,” she murmurs, barely audible, and then she bites your skin.

you whimper, hips jerking up, but her body keeps you still. “sev—fuck—”

when she pulls back, there’s already a flush of red blooming there. you look at her, dazed, your lips barely able to form words. but she knows. she always knows. she kisses just below your jaw next—so sweet it makes your chest ache—then bites again, harder this time.

“that’s it,” she coos, tongue dragging over the bruise she just made. “need the whole fuckin’ world to see it, baby. know exactly who you belong to.”

you can’t speak. your hands are fisted in the sheets, hips twitching under her weight, strap still snug inside you and hitting deep with every subtle shift of her hips.

“you like that, don’t you?” she teases, lips brushing your ear. “bein’ all marked up. worn out. fuckin’ dripping for me.”

you nod, helpless. her hand comes up to your chest—big and heavy—spanning across your sternum, thumb dragging over your nipple as she grinds her hips just enough to make you sob.

“gonna bruise you everywhere, sweetheart,” you feel her smile against your neck. “make sure you feel me for days.”

and then she bites again—lower this time, over your ribs—and you swear you could come from that alone. because there’s no softness in her now. just her weight. her teeth. her cock buried deep.

“such a fuckin’ good girl for me,” she says, low and rough. “my good girl.”