xxsquiddkiddxx

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

I can't draw men... BUT HYPERFIXATION BE DAMNED (Marvel hyperfixation has returned in the form of Thunderbolts*)

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Me getting ready to hit refresh on the thunderbolts x reader tag

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Loving You Is Easy

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

“What are these for?” you ask, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You. I, um… figured they’d help you feel better,” Bob says, his voice dipping awkwardly near the end like he already regrets how earnest it sounds. You blink at him, eyes flicking between his face and the pancakes. Then a smile spreads across your face. Cute, and he makes pancakes? You’d struck gold. “Thanks… man!” you say, then pause, realisation dawning mid-sentence. You don’t even know the name of the very attractive guy standing in front of you. You laugh a little, embarrassed. “What’s your name?” “Bob.” “Bob,” You repeat, the smile on your face growing just that little bit more if that was even possible, “I like Bob.” Or You and Bob are indifferent to each other, never seeming to mesh. But when you lose your memory, something new blooms between the two of you.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, no smut, amnesia/memory loss, abandonment issues, pancakes may as well be a main character, hurt and some comfort?, acquaintances to lovers?

A/N: Title from Easy by Mac Ayers. Also, the response to my last Bob fic was absolutely insane, thank you! Hope you enjoy this one, might write a part 2 later

***

Bob doesn’t particularly like you. 

It’s not like he hated you or anything; the two of you just didn’t connect. 

Conversations were always awkward and stilted, full of long silences and forced small talk. You’d crack a joke, and he’d give you a tight smile. He’d ask a question, and you’d give a clipped answer, unsure of his tone or where you stood.

It wasn’t animosity. It was worse: indifference with a touch of tension. Or maybe it was just that sometimes people don’t mesh, no matter how hard they try. So both of you stopped trying. You’d walk into the gym and see him already there, towel slung over his shoulder, sweat dampening his shirt.

He’d glance up. “No, no, you can stay. I was just leaving.” Even if he wasn’t actually done with his workout.

“Okay…” you’d reply, pretending not to feel the sting.

Or one time, you both ended up in the kitchen at 2 a.m., bleary-eyed and looking for snacks.

You froze. So did he.

“I’ll just—”

“No, it’s fine. I just needed water,” You interrupted.

You both moved around each other like magnets flipped the wrong way, close but never touching, repelling, retreating.

It was easier this way.

One day, you're on a mission and get injured after a strange encounter with an absurdly eccentric villain. He hit you with some mysterious ray that blasted you through a wall and left you unconscious. The whole team was worried about you… including Bob.

Sure, the two of you were awkward, distant, neither of you quite knowing how to be around the other anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that he still cared. 

So they brought you back to the Tower and did everything they could. Monitors, scans, and even a few calls to some old contacts who specialised in the weird and unexplainable.

As you lay still, unmoving, they waited. They took shifts, refusing to let you wake up alone, just in case.

Bob stayed longer than anyone. Even when it wasn’t his shift, he lingered outside your room. Because no matter how weird or strained things had become, he wanted you to wake up.

It takes a few days, but you wake up, your eyes blinking rapidly as you adjust to the light. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingers faintly in the air, and your body feels achy, like you’ve been asleep for a century.

And then you see him.

A random, handsome man is slumped over in the chair next to your bed. His head is tilted forward slightly, chin tucked, a book loose in one hand as he dozes. 

His lips part slightly in sleep, brows twitching like he’s dreaming. Something about the sight is comforting. 

You don’t recognise him.

But something in you wants to.

“Hello?”

You slip out of bed, groaning as you do so. You step close to the man until you’re but a few feet away, studying him with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper stirring inside.

You’re right next to him now, and suddenly your heart races uncontrollably. He’s beautiful — if there’s such a thing as love at first sight, this had to be it. You can’t think about anything else except his sharp jawline and that messy, adorable hair that looks like he just rolled out of bed.

Then, out of nowhere, his eyes snap open. A piercing blue that somehow feels like a shock and a spark all at once. He screams. You scream back, startled, your breath catching in your throat.

You stumble backwards, about to fall, when suddenly he reaches out and grabs your hand. Firm but gentle, steadying you.

“Thanks, guy.”

“You’re welcome,” Bob replies quietly.

“Where am I? What happened? Who are you?” you ask, panic threading through your voice.

Suddenly, a fog rolls over your mind, and you try your hardest to think, but everything’s blank except for your name.

“You don’t… remember me?” Bob asks hesitantly.

“No, are you…”You search for the right words, trying to piece things together. He was in your hospital room, probably stayed overnight, worrying about you. You’re not sure what your type used to be, but if you had one, this had to be it. Then the question slips out, “Are you my boyfriend?”

Bob’s eyes widen as if they might pop out of his head. He stammers, “Oh, no, we’re not… that’s not…” His words trip over themselves, betraying the panic and confusion inside him.

“We’re teammates,” he finally manages to say, and you take a step back, giving him space to breathe.

“We’re on a team? Like what? A swim team?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“No, like a superhero team.”

You blink, confused. “I’m a superhero?”

“An Avenger, to be exact.”

“What the hell is that?”

***

Bob was pale and quiet, still reeling from what had happened to you. The medics were running tests, whispering terms he didn’t fully understand, frowns etched deep into their brows.

Bucky came out of the room a few minutes later, expression unreadable as he approached Bob, pulling him aside.

“What did they say?” Bob asked, his voice hoarse, almost afraid of the answer.

From the look on Bucky’s face, it wasn’t good. “She has amnesia,” he said softly. “Doesn’t remember much of anything right now.”

Bob felt the air leave his lungs. He looked toward the room, the edge of the hospital bed just visible through the cracked door. You, in there, not knowing him.

“Can you take care of her?” Bucky asked gently. “We won’t all be around all the time, and she’s going to need someone who won’t push. Someone who’ll be patient.”

Bob didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

All day, he deliberates on how he can help you out. They were going to let you out of the medbay the next morning, so he wanted to make sure you’d have something comforting waiting for you. After some thought, he lands on pancakes. 

Good food had always been his go-to to shake off a bad mood, maybe it would work the same for amnesia.

After helping you into the kitchen, he serves you the pancakes he prepared, sliding the plate toward you a little sheepishly.

“What are these for?” you ask, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“You. I, um… figured they’d help you feel better,” Bob says, his voice dipping awkwardly near the end like he already regrets how earnest it sounds.

You blink at him, eyes flicking between his face and the pancakes. Then a smile spreads across your face. Cute, and he makes pancakes? You’d struck gold.

“Thanks… man!” you say, then pause, realisation dawning mid-sentence. You don’t even know the name of the very attractive guy standing in front of you. You laugh a little, embarrassed. “What’s your name?”

“Bob.”

“Bob,” You repeat, the smile on your face growing just that little bit more if that was even possible, “I like Bob.”

You start digging into the pancakes and let out a squeal of happiness. “This thing is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, well technically one of the only things I remember tasting, but still.”

Bob feels a small rush of happiness that he was able to do something for you, no matter how simple.

“So, Bob, you and I are superheroes, correct?” you say between mouthfuls of delicious pancakes.

Bob hesitates; he didn’t quite have full control over his powers yet, but he was sure he’d get there one day.

“Well, yes…”

“Do you have powers?”

“I can fly, and I’m kinda invincible, and a couple of other things,” he says, looking away sheepishly. He didn’t want to sound like he was bragging.

But then he looks back and sees you beaming at him, the same way you had been since he gave you those pancakes.

“That’s awesome, can you show me?”

He hesitates, “It’s complicated. I can be…dangerous.”

“Oh, I get it, no pressure.”

He's surprised at how quickly you drop it, but appreciates it nonetheless. You take another bite of the pancakes before asking with a little smile, “Do I have powers?”

You were already thinking of the possibilities, maybe you could fly too, or teleport or even turn into a giant frog. The sky’s the limit.

“No…” he says,  and the wind is taken right out of your sails. So much for being a frog woman. But seeing the disappointed look on your face, he quickly adds, “You’re a really talented fighter, though, great shot too.”

“Really?”

Bob nods, giving you an encouraging smile. You twiddle your fingers, trying to ask more questions.

“Where are you from?”

“Florida.”

“What’s Florida like?”

He strains to think of what to tell you. Flashes of sticky summer air, thunderstorms rolling in over flat suburban streets, and the hum of cicadas come into his mind.

“It’s… hot.”

You giggle softly, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “Good to know.”

“So let me summarise. You are Bob, Florida is hot, I can shoot stuff.”

“That’s about right.”

He watches you devour the whole plate of pancakes, and he's still having a hard time reconciling the you he knows and the you sitting in front of him. For one, you were actually talking to him and talking to everyone a lot more. Your dynamic with the rest of the team wasn't nearly as bad as yours with Bob's, but now you seemed a lot more open.

It’s a trend that continues as you ask him and the rest of the Avengers questions incessantly the rest of the day, your curiosity never seeming to run out. Every new answer only sparks ten more questions, and somehow, they never seem to mind your enthusiasm.

“You can go through walls?!” You gasp, eyes wide with amazement, and you nearly pass out when you see Ava do it, your hand reaching out as if trying to touch the air she just phased through.

Or when you sat cross-legged on the floor, chin resting on your hands, listening to one of Alexei’s stories with such intent. It was nice seeing you so bubbly, laughing at his exaggerated tales and rolling your eyes when he insisted every mission ended with him saving the day. “There’s no way you took them all down yourself!”

“The Red Guardian defeated them all single-handedly, I tell you,” Alexei says, enjoying your reactions, insisting no one listens the way you do.

But there was a little downside. Now you were more eager to do things, and since you were also restricted to the tower, all that restless energy had to go somewhere. 

This morning, it was the kitchen.

The truth is, if he knew that his making pancakes would cause the mess that you unleashed, maybe he would’ve chosen something easier to make.

He walks into the kitchen to see you surrounded by chaos, flour on the counter, batter on the ceiling, and a pan smoking in the sink. It looks like a warzone.

“What is all of this?” he asks, blinking at the sight.

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed, hair a little wild, looking like you’d just gone ten rounds with your own breakfast.

“Pancakes,” you say with exaggerated confidence, like it was obvious.

“If you wanted pancakes, you could’ve asked,” he says, stepping closer with a shake of his head.

He would’ve made them in a heartbeat. He didn’t always know how to fix things, but it made him happy to be useful, even if it was hard to get the energy sometimes. 

Bob says, rolling up his sleeves, “I happen to make pretty good pancakes.”

“I know. The ones you made for me the other day were really good.”

“One of the few things I can do,” he mutters, the self-deprecation slipping out like muscle memory, automatic, unfiltered. He's been working on it, but old habits die hard.

You nudge him gently with your elbow. “I’m sure you’re good at a lot of stuff. And if not, at least you’re good-looking.”

Bob blinks at you, looking at you incredulously, like you’d just said the sky was green. His mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to argue, but then doesn’t.

A beat passes, and he gives a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “You really are different,” he says, eyes full of something like wonder.

“But… in a good way.”

“Thanks…” You say. “So, about these pancakes, how about we make them together?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He’s about to start making more batter when he notices you didn’t even bother to put on an apron. He grabs one off the hook and makes his way back over to you.

“But I’m already messy,” you say, looking down at your shirt, now covered in flour.

“Better late than never?” he says with a grin.

Agreeing with him, you duck your head down as he slips the apron over you. Accidentally ruffling your hair in the process, and you let out a small noise of protest.

Then, gently, almost instinctively, he smooths your hair down with both hands, his fingers brushing along your scalp.

It makes you shiver and shake a little against your will. Your body apparently hasn’t gotten the memo on playing it cool around hot men who are weirdly good at domestic affection.

Great. Just great.

He steps closer and delicately wraps the apron ties behind you, moving with such care. You can only imagine what his hands must feel like, strong but soft, you thought.

All you can focus on is the little sensations you do get. The brief, accidental caresses against your back as he tries to tie the apron. His fingers brush your spine, light as a whisper, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Let me do yours,” you say, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart’s trying to break out of your chest.

He turns, and you tie the apron behind him. You can't help but notice how solid he feels, how broad his shoulders are. You feel that same flutter in your stomach you had when you first saw him in the med bay, those damn butterflies that show up uninvited whenever he’s near.

You step back and smooth out the fabric on his chest, trying to act casual.

“How do I look?” he asks playfully.

“Very chefy,” you reply with a grin.

You step aside, and he turns to see what you’ve done.

“First of all, what did you put in here?” He asks, looking at the strange concoction you had made up. It looked like a science experiment gone wrong, the way it was bubbling like it was about to come to life.

“Pancake stuff.”

“Why is it blue?”

“To complement your eyes.”

He blinks, fully expecting to see you grinning or laughing, but you’re dead serious.

As he chuckles and starts remaking the pancake batter, shaking his head with the tiniest smile, he says, “Why didn’t you just ask me to make them for you?”

“I, uh… was trying to return the favour.” You mumble, scratching the back of your head. “You made them for me when I needed them. Thought it’d be nice to do the same.”

He pauses mid-stir, glancing over at you. “That’s really sweet.” 

Bob is about to go back to stirring when he sees something.

“Oh, wait a second, you have a…” He says before trailing off, his expression shifting slightly. He reaches out without hesitation, fingers gentle as they brush your cheek. Your breath catches, heart thudding like it’s trying to escape your ribcage, as he plucks an eyelash off your face.

“Make a wish,” he says softly, holding it out to you.

You close your eyes for a moment, your mind blank except for the thought of him. You blow it away, your breath catching just a little as the lash flutters and disappears.

And a tiny part of you wonders if wishes like that ever come true.

“What did you wish for?”

Your eyes scan his, you know exactly what you want, what you need.

“It’s a secret.”

***

“You need to eat more than just pancakes,” John says with a sigh, arms crossed like a disapproving dad.

You shrug from your spot on the couch, hugging your knees and avoiding eye contact. “They’re comforting. And Bob makes them really well.”

“That’s not the point,” he replies, “You need nutrients. Vegetables. Something green.”

You’re finally saved when you see Bob come into the room.

“Bob!”

You scramble out of your seat the moment you spot him, excitement bubbling up as you point at the TV screen. An ad for a local pizza place flashes by, and it somehow sends you into a state of near awe.

“I know what pizza is, but I don’t remember what it tastes like.”

“Can we…?” you begin, unsure how to phrase it without sounding too eager—if you asked, would he eat it with you?

“I’ll order,” he says without hesitation.

“Pizza isn’t good for you either,” John points out, and you roll your eyes at him before throwing your arms around Bob, hugging him tightly. 

You throw your arms around him in an instant, hugging him tightly. He stiffens for a second, caught off guard, he still wasn’t used to how openly affectionate you'd become since the memory loss.

“Sorry, got a little excited,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.

Bob just smiles.

“We can eat it on the roof if you want,” he offers. “It’s a really nice view.”

“I’d like that,” you say softly, already picturing it.

When the pizza arrives, the two of you head up to the roof, scarfing it down like you hadn’t eaten in days. Bob watches you in quiet amusement, the city of New York sprawling beneath and around you. Lives moving, horns blaring, people rushing through the streets, but up here, it feels peaceful. Safe.

“This is so good, I could die right now and be happy,” you declare dramatically, a slice still in hand.

You flop back into Bob’s lap without warning, gazing up at him with a lazy, contented smile. He freezes slightly, his leg twitching with nerves. You’re too busy chewing to notice the way his eyes widen, or how he swallows hard and looks away for a second.

He’s glad you can’t hear how loud his heart is pounding.

“Hey,” you say after swallowing a particularly big bite of cheesy goodness.

“Yeah?” Bob answers, turning to you.

You don’t respond right away, just stare at him again, like you’re trying to memorise every detail. There’s something about being near him that makes everything else fade out. Being in love with him, even without remembering it, feels like breathing.

“I wish I could take a picture.”

“Of… the pizza?” Bob asks, confused. 

“No. Of you. You just… have one of those faces.”

He blinks. “What does that mean?” There’s a note of genuine concern. Was this your weird, roundabout way of calling him ugly?

“You have a face I wanna… immortalise. Is that super dramatic?” you ask, gesticulating with your slice of pizza. Cheese flopping to the side with every word.

Bob lets out a stunned laugh. He honestly can’t believe half the things you’ve said since the memory loss, but this might be the most unexpected yet. His ears turn a little pink.

You’re both quiet for a beat before you break the silence with a chuckle. “What is it? Have I grown another head?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I just… you’re so different.”

But he doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing.

“How so?” you ask, muffled slightly by the mouthful of pizza you just shoved in. Even that, being messy and unfiltered, was a pretty big shift. Before the accident, you would’ve never let Bob see you like this. You were all sharp edges, always composed around him. Never vulnerable. Never soft.

“You didn’t… we didn’t really get along before you lost your memories,” Bob says carefully, like he’s stepping over landmines.

“Did we hate each other?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It was just… awkward,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Huh…” You glance past him, up at the stars overhead. The sky looks endless. “I know I don’t remember anything, but something in me tells me I liked you more than I let on.”

You turn your gaze back to him, sincere now. “It’s just a feeling,” you say, lightly tapping your chest. “In here.”

There’s a loud bang in the distance that interrupts the two of you, and it jolts you upright from your place on his lap.

You and Bob are instantly alert, eyes scanning the skyline. 

“Fireworks?” you ask, squinting toward the horizon as bursts of colour light up the sky.

The distant booms echo softly through the air, and for a second, the world seems to pause. The sky is painted in shimmering golds, purples, and reds. You shuffle closer to the edge, your mouth slightly open in awe, your eyes reflecting the vibrant display.

“This is so beautiful,” you whisper.

“Yeah…” Bob’s voice is quiet as he looks over at you. His eyes don’t linger on the fireworks, instead, they find you. The glow of the explosions dances across your face, illuminating your smile. “It is,” he says, but he’s not talking about the sky.

You don’t notice his stare, too entranced by the spectacle. “I mean, I don’t remember what pretty things I’ve seen before,” you say with a soft laugh, “but there’s no way anything beats this.”

The two of you stay there for a long while, sitting shoulder to shoulder as the last of the fireworks fade. You forgot about the pizza. It goes cold beside you, untouched. But neither of you cares. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed despite the crackling fireworks and the hum of New York City below. Somehow, in the middle of all that noise and chaos, you find peace. A kind of quiet you didn’t know you needed. And before long, you’re completely asleep, your breathing soft and even, your body relaxed against his.

Bob glances down at you, frozen for a second, not from discomfort, but from something more tender. He doesn't want to move, not really. But the night is getting cold, and you shouldn't sleep on a rooftop. Gently, he shifts, slipping one arm under your legs and the other around your back. You barely stir as he lifts you.

He walks quietly down the stairs, careful with each step, your head nestled into his chest.

Then—

“What’s this?” comes a voice that makes him jump nearly out of his skin.

Yelena is standing in the hallway outside her room, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, clearly in the middle of getting ready for bed.

“She fell asleep,” Bob says, adjusting his grip on you slightly, trying to look casual. “So I thought I’d help her to bed…”

Yelena arches a brow. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, Bob.”

“She’s had a long day,” he mumbles, eyes avoiding hers as he starts to move past.

“Mm-hm,” she hums, still grinning. 

He walks into your room, carefully sidestepping anything that might creak or clatter. The last thing he wants is to wake you. But when he leans down to gently lay you onto the bed, your fingers curl tighter into his shirt like talons.

He freezes. “Seriously?” he mutters under his breath, glancing down at your sleeping form. You’re completely out cold, but your grip says otherwise.

He tries again, delicately prying your fingers away one by one, but you’re like a koala in REM sleep. “Yelena?” he whisper-shouts, trying not to jostle you too much.

After a few seconds, Yelena pokes her head around the corner, toothbrush in hand, completely unbothered. “What?”

“She won’t let go,” he says, exasperated.

Yelena steps into the room, takes one look at the situation, and her face breaks into a slow grin. “Of course she won’t.”

“What do I do?” Bob hisses.

Yelena shrugs. “Get comfortable?”

Eventually, after a few more whispered pleas and another failed attempt to detach you, she sighs and calls for backup. “Ava, we need a second pair of hands.”

It takes a combination of Bob and Yelena pulling while Ava gently works your grip free one finger at a time, to finally get you into bed without dragging Bob in after you.

By the time they’re done, Bob is sweating, slightly rumpled, and staring at you with a look that’s somewhere between exasperation and complete emotional defeat.

“She’s gonna be the end of me,” he sighs.

Ava pats his shoulder. “Not a bad way to go.”

***

Weekend rolls around, Bob had offered to help you go through your stuff, maybe handling familiar items, seeing old things, would help jog something loose in your memory.

You had found an old teddy bear, a digital camera with very few pictures, and throwing knives. You think it’s nice to know you’re very versatile. 

You’re in your room, standing on your tiptoes trying to reach another box on the highest shelf. You stretch a little too far, fingers just grazing the edge of it, when suddenly, Bob's reaching for it too.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can—”

Your hands slip under Bob’s, and in a sudden pulse of light and warmth, the room falls away. You’re no longer in the safety of your space. It’s a hazy afternoon, the golden sunlight casting long, sleepy shadows across cracked pavement. The distant sound of a train horn echoes through the air, and there’s a soft breeze drifting in from somewhere, maybe the coast, maybe the open countryside. It smells faintly of dust and old paper.

You’re in a memory.

A small train station. Quiet. Still. You see a little child, no older than four, and a woman beside them. The child is you.

The woman bends down, brushing your hair back with tender fingers. She’s beautiful in the way only memories can be, edges blurred, features softened by time and pain. Her lips move, whispering something you can’t hear. Words drowned out by the roaring silence in your ears.

She kisses your forehead.

Then she straightens, turns, and walks away. Her hand slips from yours like sand, and you’re left standing alone.

“Mom?”

You call out for her, a small voice barely rising above the bustling noise of the trains, but no one comes. Watching the little kid, watching yourself, sit there and cry until your voice is hoarse, tears streaking down chubby cheeks. People pass. Some glance, others don’t. Looks are given, but no one stops to help.

You come to with a sharp gasp, the memory still clutching at your chest like cold fingers. Bob is in front of you, eyes wide, his hand gently on your shoulder as he steadies you.

“Was that my memory?” you ask, your voice faint. You’re still there, in that memory, like part of your mind is dragging its feet back to the present.

“I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t mean to do that,” Bob says, his expression crumpling with guilt.

You blink at him, really seeing the way his hands are trembling slightly, his face pale. He looks visibly shaken. Like he’s taken away your clean slate. And now the only memory that’s surfaced from your past is that of being left behind.

“That’s the first thing I remember,” you whisper. “That’s the only thing.”

Bob’s throat bobs, and he steps back slightly, like he’s not sure if you want him near anymore.

“I—” he tries, but the words falter.

There’s a thick tension in the air as you try to come to terms with what just happened.  You’re uncertain, scared, and hurting in a way you don’t fully understand. But through it all, the only anchor you have is Bob.

You reach for him instinctively, like your heart knows the way before your mind catches up, but he flinches. It’s a small movement, but it cuts deep. Not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s terrified for you. Of what he might do, what you might see again, what memories might bleed through just from a touch.

“Please?” you whisper, voice trembling. “I just… I need you.”

You hold your hand out, palm open and steady despite the way your insides shake. Like you’re telling him: It’s okay. I trust you. I’m not afraid of you.

He hesitates for a beat, long enough that you can see the storm behind his eyes. Then slowly, cautiously, he reaches out. His fingers curl around yours, and the moment they connect, you don’t wait. You step into him, into his arms, burying your face against his chest. His arms come around you like instinct, and you finally feel like you belong again. Like his arms are exactly where you’re meant to be.

He thought you wouldn’t want him anymore. Thought whatever pain you’d seen in that memory would make you run.

“I feel safe with you,” you murmur, your breath warm against his neck. It was like you could read his mind.

You sit there until you feel normal again, breathing in sync with Bob as you toy with his shirt and he pets your hair.

“Why were you so scared?” You ask suddenly.

“The last time I used my powers, things got out of control.” Flashes of what happened appear in his mind— the darkness, the destruction. 

“I read about it. What happened that day…”

Bob looks down, jaw tight, the guilt still weighing on him.

 “Where’d you hear it from?” he asks quietly.

“I’ve been trying to get my memories back,” you say. “So I’ve been reading my diary.”

Bob’s eyebrows lift, surprised. You didn’t seem like the type to keep a diary.

“I write about you quite a bit,” you add, offering a small smile.

His breath catches slightly. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I don’t seem to understand you. Every other entry is me trying to figure you out, analysing the interactions we have. One minute I think you hate me, the next I think you’re just… scared.”

He doesn't answer right away, just looks at you like he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start.

“I think I was scared too,” you admit. 

“The way I write about our relationship in my diary seems sad. Like there’s so much I wanted to say to you, but couldn’t for some reason.”

You twiddle with your fingers for a moment before finally saying what's on your mind.

“I think you should read it.”

“Your diary? That's crossing a boundary. When you get your memories back, I don’t think you’ll appreciate it.” 

The tone of his voice told you he was resolute in his decision, but you wanted to leave the door open.  “If you want to read it, it’s in the top drawer by my bed, in the very back. I think it’d clear a lot of things up between you and her, or I guess me. I don’t know how to address myself.”

He looks at the drawer and thinks of what might be inside your diary, which you wanted him to read so badly. A few moments later, you get up off the floor and offer him your hand again, “Let’s go, I think Yelena’s making dinner.”

***

Waking up to you was disorientating as fuck.

Since you lost your memory, you’d been clinging onto him like a lifeline. Sure, you followed the rest of the Avengers around like a lost duck, trailing behind their conversations and mimicking routines, but with him… with Bob, it was different.

You didn’t just follow him, you stuck to him like glue. Something about him made you feel safe.

“Sorry! I wasn’t watching you while you slept,” you blurt suddenly, catching yourself as he looks over at you from his bed. “I mean—well, technically yes, I was, but not for a long time... just like a minute because I didn’t want to wake you, but—”

Bob doesn’t respond, just blinking at you.

“I really didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just—I came in to see if you wanted to make breakfast together, and you were asleep and you looked so…”

You stop yourself as the words threaten to spill out. If you didn’t stop, there was a solid 90% chance you’d end up professing your undying love for him, and maybe even proposing marriage right there.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he says gently, cutting in before you can spiral any further with embarrassment. “Let’s just go make breakfast.”

You exhale a laugh, relieved, your nerves settling just a bit.

You both go to make breakfast and settle on grilled cheese sandwiches. You watch as he takes a bite and melts, visibly softening.  He looks so cute, and all he was doing was chewing. You loved all the little mannerisms no one would notice unless they looked closely. The way his nose would scrunch up when he laughs, how he'd caress his hands to soothe himself, or how he makes eye contact when people are talking so intently to make sure that they know he was listening. You take out your digital camera that you had found in the box in your room, angling it just right.

Click.

When he realises you’re taking a picture, he freezes mid-bite, eyes wide.

“I’m making memories,” you say simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m just eating a sandwich,” he replies, baffled.

You shrug, grinning. “Exactly.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright…”

He tries to look unaffected, but you can see it. His shoulders relax, and his cheeks flush ever so slightly. All of a sudden, you have this unexplainable power over him. He wasn’t used to someone looking at him like that, like they wanted to remember him.

“I’m sure you could find more interesting things to shoot,” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head, smiling softly. “There’s something special about you. You look so real when you think no one is watching. I can’t help but want to capture that.”

“You mean that?” Bob says, traces of doubt leaking in.

“From the bottom of my heart.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and a little surprised. “Still… I think you should explore other things if you want new memories. Let’s go somewhere today.”

You grab his hand gently, excitement bubbling up inside you.

He takes you to a park, but all you can seem to focus on is him, how he moves, how he laughs. So you keep sneaking pictures (not so sneakily), desperate not to forget a single moment. 

“There’s a whole park to take pictures of, you know?” he says, grinning as he lowers the camera.

You glance around, finally noticing the trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, the vibrant colours all around. But you quickly look back at him, your smile soft.

“Yeah, but you’re the best part of the view,” you admit quietly, making him blush just a little.

Bob clears his throat, cheeks warming as he tries to shift the attention away from himself.

“Okay, okay…but you should let me turn the favour. Give me your camera, I’ll take some pictures of you,” Bob states, holding out his hand with an easy smile.

“Oh no, that’s fine. I doubt I’m that photogenic,” you say, laughing nervously. “You don’t really want pictures of me.”

Then with a sudden surge of confidence, he says, “I don’t think you realise how beautiful you are.” 

Bob doesn't know where it comes from; he wasn’t one to say something so bold like that, but he couldn't stand hearing you downplay yourself. 

He says it so softly and genuinely, you swear you heard your heart skip a beat. Your eyes meet in the silent pause, but it isn’t uncomfortable like awkward silences tend to be. It’s warm and cosy like one of Bob’s many sweaters. 

Feeling like he was staring for too long, he clears his throat before adding, “Plus, all your memories can’t be pictures of me.”

“R-right,” you stutter as you hand over the camera, your fingers brushing his. The touch is brief, but it leaves a spark, a lingering warmth that settles somewhere deep inside.

“Say cheese.”

“Cheese!” you grin, striking a playful pose.

The rest of the day is spent taking pictures as you wander around New York, basking in the warm sun, laughing at everything you see, carefree and lighthearted.

“We should get ice cream!” you declare suddenly.

He buys it for you without hesitation and snaps a candid photo as you dig into it with delight.

“This is heaven,” you sigh dramatically. “Second only to your pancakes.”

He takes another picture, catching you mid-bite, and you catch him smiling to himself.

You notice and nudge him, “How do I look?”

He looks at the screen. Your eyes are closed in pure bliss, a little smear of vanilla ice cream on your lip, with the brightest smile on your face.

“Perfect,” he says, and for a second, you’re not sure he’s talking about the photo at all.

Eventually, after your long day of wandering around, the two of you get on the subway to head back home. It's packed, shoulder to shoulder, a blur of strangers and noise. You manage to find two seats side by side, squeezed tight among the crowd.

Sitting next to each other, you're pushed up close, legs touching, shoulders brushing with every lurch of the train. The warmth of him seeps through your clothes, and you’re suddenly all too aware of how close you are.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Bob says, leaning in so you can hear him over the rattle of the subway.

“So did I,” you reply, smiling. “You know how to show a girl a good time, Bob Reynolds.”

The train jerks to a stop as it pulls into the next station. The doors slide open with a hiss, and a few people step off, thinning the crowd a little. You glance up and notice an older couple standing nearby, gently swaying with the movement of the train.

You and Bob exchange a look, then both rise at the same time.

“Please, take our seats,” you offer warmly.

They smile gratefully as they settle down, and you both step back to stand nearby, holding the pole for balance. It’s quiet for a moment, and you watch as the elderly man gently brushes something off his wife’s shoulder, then takes her hand in his. The tenderness in his gesture makes your chest ache. It was simple and sweet, watching him dote on her like she was still the only girl in the room.

“You two make such a cute couple,” the old lady says suddenly, looking up at you both with a knowing smile.

You both blink, completely caught off guard. 

“Oh, we’re not…” You start to say, but your voice trails off when Bob nudges your arm gently.

“Thank you,” he says to her, still smiling, then glances at you.

“How long have you been together?” The two of you weren’t anticipating any follow-up questions, so you had to think on your feet. It was time to put your non-existent acting skills to the test.

“A yea–” You start, but seeing the look on Bob’s face, you morph it until you say, “Month. A month.”

They both smile, clearly loving young love because old people do that. 

“And how did you two meet?” She asks, and you’re starting to see why the Avengers get annoyed with you.

“We met at…” You start looking for Bob to save you, and he does. “Hospital.”

That wasn't where you were heading, but technically it was true. “Yes, I was hit by a… bike.”

Their eyes go wide with shock. “Yes, it was an awful affair. Bike messenger gone rogue.”

“When I heard what happened, I rushed over to see her and I slept by her side,” Bob adds, which was very close to what happened when you got hit with the ray.

“When I woke up and saw him there waiting for me to wake up, I fell in love with him on the spot.”

They both swoon at your story, and when it was said like that, it did sound quite romantic, Bob realised. 

“You take care of her,” the old man interjects, his voice gravelly but kind. “Girls like that, with that light in their eyes… they don’t come around often, trust me, I’d know.”

Bob swallows hard, his gaze softening as he looks at you. You had a light—a spark about you—that he’d be crazy to deny. But the two of you were just becoming friends, finally finding solid ground; how could he risk messing that up?

Still, for the old man’s sake and maybe a little for himself, he says quietly but with conviction, “I will.”

Even if he didn’t mean it in the way the old man intended, he would take care of you.

“And keep her away from bikes. They’re trouble,” the man added, and Bob gave him an affirmative, “Of course.”

He’d protect you from bikes too.

You both watch as the couple get off at the next stop, but what they said sticks with you for much longer.  

As you walk away, you whisper, “That was… something.”

Bob glances sideways at you, amused. “You didn’t correct them.”

“You didn’t either,” you shoot back, cheeks flushing.

“I didn’t want to.”

The train buckles a little, making you lose balance and stumble, but he catches you instantly, his hand wrapping securely around your waist.

“Trying to sweep me off my feet?” you joke, but if you’re being honest, you’re just trying to hide how breathless you feel. His strong arms are around you, keeping you upright without effort. It’s enough to make your pulse stutter.

He smirks faintly, eyes flicking down to meet yours. “If I were, would it be working?”

You look away, flustered but smiling. “Shut up.”

But you don’t pull away. And neither does he.

“The next stop is ours.”

The two of you break away almost reluctantly. By the time you get back to the tower, you feel like your heart has been racing nonstop.

Once inside, you both go your separate ways, he finds his comfy spot by the window while you wander around, looking for an Avenger to follow around and maybe learn from.

A few hours later, he hears you come back into the room. You’re following behind Bucky, asking questions, and he wonders how, in the two or so weeks you’ve been like this, you hadn’t run out of questions. 

“Is it wrong of me to want to know how many pushups you can do?”

Bucky sighs, running out of words to give you. Fortunately, he’s let off the hook when you catch Bob’s eye and bound over to him.

“Meet me on the roof in 10?” you ask, leaning in close.

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, smiling.

You stand looking out at the sunset, waiting for Bob to show up.

A moment later, he appears, turning toward you and noticing you’re still holding the camera.

“I just realised we didn’t get any pictures together, so I figured…”

You stand at the edge of the roof as you sidle up next to each other, sharing the warm glow of the setting sun.

“Ready?” you ask, lifting the camera.

You snap a picture of the two of you. The flash flickers briefly.

The two of you turn toward each other, the space between you suddenly feeling electric and full of possibility.

You glance down, checking the picture on the camera. A small smile tugs at your lips, and Bob watches you with quiet intensity.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend, and he was. He was your friend now. But being this close to you, when you looked like a daydream, it was hard to think of anything else. He liked seeing you happy. He liked being the reason you were happy. So this just felt like the natural step; he wouldn’t be afraid anymore. 

“Can I kiss you?” He utters so softly that you might not have heard it if you weren’t so dialled in to him.

“Yes.”

It was the easiest question you’d ever had to answer. 

The moment is instantly electric. It was love at first sight for you, like fate had placed him in that chair just for you. His hands gently cup your face, drawing you closer as he leans in to kiss you.

The moment your lips meet, you melt into it.

It’s easy, it’s natural. But it also feels like you’re walking on air.

Your lips melt together as the kiss deepens, slow and sure, like you’ve both been holding your breath for days and finally found air in each other.

Then, suddenly, you feel the ground vanish beneath your feet. It takes a few moments to realise what’s happening. You're both slowly lifting into the air, weightless, like the kiss has broken gravity’s hold.

You pull back, breathless, eyes wide. “We’re flying.”

Bob’s eyes are glowing, soft gold, like sunlight through clouds. And to make it that much more perfect, he’s staring at you like you hung the stars.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “we are.”

***

The world feels light. You feel like you could do anything. Bob kissed you, and somehow, that made everything else fall into place, like that one moment was enough to ground you and lift you all at once. You kissed him so good, he fucking flew! That was something to be proud of. 

“Morning!” you greet cheerfully, practically floating into the room.

“Well, aren’t you in a good mood?” John comments, raising an eyebrow at your brightness.

“I am. Quite literally nothing could ruin my day.”

You look over at John’s plate filled with all things healthy and not a pancake in sight, and sneer, “Not even whatever is going on over there.”

“You’re going to die if you keep eating the way you do.”

“At least I’ll die happy.” 

And probably in Bob’s arms, but you’d keep that to yourself. You keep flitting around the kitchen, flashes of Bob popping up like you had a gallery in your head dedicated to him.

Then, of course, that’s when Bucky and Yelena appear, both standing stiffly in the doorway. Their faces are unreadable, but it’s clear they’re not here to chat.

“Can we talk to you?” Yelena asks, her voice calm but firm.

Your smile falters. The tone in her voice doesn’t match your mood. You glance between them, a nervous flutter stirring in your chest. They lead you to another room, and your heart pounds with each step. Once you're face to face with them, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“Just tell me,” you say, steeling yourself.

Bucky steps forward, voice gentle. “There’s a way you might be able to get your memories back.”

Your heart nearly stops.

“They’ve made a device,” Bucky says carefully, “to counteract the effects of the ray you were hit with.”

You swallow hard, your lungs suddenly tight, like the air has turned to cement.

“Will I remember what happened these past few weeks?” you ask, already bracing for the answer.

“They’re not sure,” Yelena replies gently. “There’s a chance you won’t.”

The rest of the day blurs. You wear that carefully constructed smile while inside, everything feels like it’s unravelling. You laugh at jokes, eat meals, and talk to the team, but every time you look at Bob, it’s like looking at a sunset you might never see again.

Because what if you disappear?

What if the version of you that exists now—the one who fell in love, who made pancakes, who learned to laugh again—vanishes?

What if all of it was just borrowed time?

You’re curled up on the couch later, trying not to let the weight of it crush you, when Yelena finds you. She pauses, studying you quietly.

“You okay?” she asks, snapping you out of your spiral.

You glance up at her with a weak smile. “Yeah,” you lie. “I’m… I’m great.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Yelena presses gently. She sits beside you, eyes focused and unwavering. She sees right through you.

You hesitate, then finally let it slip out like a confession you’d been clutching too tightly.

“What if, when I get my memories back… things are different? What if you guys don’t like me anymore?”

Your voice cracks on the last word. It’s not just about them, and you both know it. It’s about him.

Bob liked you now. The person you’d become. The version of you without all the baggage, the walls, the defence mechanisms. What if the old you came back and pushed him away again?

“We’ll like you regardless,” Yelena says, firm but kind, leaning forward, her words meant to stick. “All of us.” She emphasises that last part, not missing the real question behind your fear. You and Bob haven’t exactly been subtle, floating around the Tower like someone told you the world was ending and you decided to fall in love anyway.

“You think?” you ask quietly, hating how small your voice sounds.

“I know,” she replies without hesitation. “Bob isn’t the type to run. He’s not just here for this version of you. He’s here for you, full stop.”

The thought of him leaving still prickles, sharp and cold. But there’s something warm in her certainty that you cling to. You want to believe her.

“Thank you,” You whisper with a small smile. But there’s still that little piece of doubt lingering in the back of your head. 

***

You spend all night worrying, your mind running in circles while your body stays perfectly still, tucked into Bob’s arms. His breath tickles the back of your neck in soft, steady waves. You can feel the quiet thud of his heartbeat against your spine, a rhythm that grounds you more than anything else ever has. This feels like happiness. This feels more right than anything you’ve ever known.

And nights like this… how could you give it up, when you had just begun to have it?

The thought won’t let you go. So, when you’re sure Bob is fully asleep, you carefully slip out of his arms. You sneak out of bed, heart pounding with every silent step, padding your way barefoot down the hall to the lab.

The room is dim and still. On the central table sits the device. The thing that could give you everything back and take everything away.

You stare at it. Your reflection glints back at you in its smooth surface. What would you really be giving up? The person you were before. Aloof, guarded, and apparently barely connected to anyone. No warmth, no laughter, no Bob.

Your fingers close around it. Maybe this was the price of keeping what mattered. Maybe this version of you was the better one. Maybe memories weren’t worth more than love.

You raise the device in the air, prepared to end it all before it can change you back—

Then the door creaks open behind you.

“Hey,” Bob’s voice is low, thick with sleep but steady. He stands in the doorway, his eyes not on the device, but on you. “What are you doing?”

His eyes widen in alarm. “You need to put that down. Without it, you can’t get your memories back.”

You stare at the small device in your hand, the one meant to unlock everything you've forgotten. Everything that’s been haunting your dreams and slipping through your fingers like mist.

You’re so close to throwing it on the ground, your grip tightening as your voice shakes. “Maybe I don’t want them back.”

He goes still. You can see the panic in his face, but it’s laced with something else too. Pain.

You’re biting back the heat behind your eyes, the pressure building in your chest, like red-hot guilt piercing through you. Because it’s not just about your memories, it’s about him. The fear that if you remember everything…you might lose this. Lose him.

“I don’t want to remember a world where you’re not in it,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “What if I get it all back and I’m not me anymore? What if I’m someone who doesn't love you?”

Bob takes a careful step closer, like you’re on the edge of something fragile. “Then I’ll help you fall in love with me all over again,” he says quietly. “No matter how many times it takes.”

What if you don’t love me anymore? What if getting these memories back means you lose me…?” Your voice is shaking now. “What if who I am is just… broken? I mean, my own mother didn’t—”

You stop yourself, the words dying in your throat.

Bob takes a step closer. He feels that pang again, deep and aching, like something in his chest is being pulled taut. Not just because of what you said, but because he’s watching you unravel in front of him, and he never wants you to feel like this, like love is conditional. 

“The person I am now… I want to be that person. I don’t want to be the girl you think of as a stranger. I want to be the girl you love.”

Bob’s eyes are soft, full of a sadness he tries to hide, and a depth of affection he doesn’t bother to. “I’m telling this to you because I love you. If you don't get your memories back, you'll always be left wondering who you were.”

Your hands are trembling when you finally set the device down on the table. You throw your arms around him and hug him so tightly he thinks he might break apart, and he doesn't mind it especially if it meant being held like this by you.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, burying his face in your shoulder.

You both freeze for half a second, the realisation hitting you at the same time, how easy it was. How natural.

You pull back just enough to look at him, wide-eyed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“You said it.”

“So did you.”

And then you’re laughing softly into each other, that weight between you gone, just you, him, and the now. “I love you. No matter what version of you I get.”

He kisses you lightly, your lips moving in sync with one another. It’s more than a kiss, it’s a promise that no matter what, you’d fall in love over and over again, no matter how long it took. 

You pull him flush against you, the feeling of his shirt beneath your fingers keeping you in the moment. Like you were scared it would slip right through your fingers. You pull back and look at him; his eyes are full of desire, and so are yours.

You jump and he catches you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your lips reconnect as if they were magnets. The kiss is more fast paced, filled with passion as you who each other just how much you need one another. He places you on a counter, his hands roaming your body as the need to explore every part of you becomes too much to bear. 

Both of you stop suddenly, your foreheads against each other as you breathe heavily. Your chests rise and fall in sync, hearts thudding loudly in your ears. You wanted to go further, God, you both did, but you knew you had to stop. 

“When you get your memory back,” he whispers.

You nod. As much as you both wanted this…you couldn't yet. Not while you weren't whole.

“When I get my memory back.”

***

“So this is it?” you whisper, voice barely steady.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, the sterile smell of the room thick in the air. You can feel your heart pounding harder than it should.

Bob is standing beside you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours, thumb running slow, comforting circles over your knuckles. 

You glance up at him, eyes searching. “What if everything changes?”

Bob is the first thing you see when you wake up. You’re sleepy and groggy, and he’s sitting there, book in hand.

“You’re awake,” he says softly. You nod, your eyes slowly adjusting as you take in your surroundings. “Maybe I could make you some pancakes,” Bob says, trying to see if you remembered. 

“Why would you do that?” you ask, letting out a confused laugh.

His face falls, hands tightening around the book. “You don’t… remember?”

“No, sorry. Did I miss something?” you say, blinking at him, genuinely puzzled.

“I’m sorry, I… I was just—” He stammers, trying to backtrack. “It’s nothing.”

“I should let you rest,” he adds, sensing your discomfort.

Bob gets up and walks to the door, and he’s about to leave when you stop him, your voice softer now.

“Thanks for being here when I woke up. It’s very kind of you.”

He musters a small, genuine smile and replies, “Anytime.”

In the days that passed, it was hard mourning someone who’s still alive and technically shouldn’t have existed. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be the end. The person he fell in love with was gone, but maybe he could fall in love again, with the person you are now.

One morning, you’re sitting by the table, scrolling through your phone, when Bob quietly walks in and slides a plate of pancakes to you.

“What are these for?” you ask.

“Just felt like it,” he replies, watching your eyes light up when you bite into them despite your best efforts to hide it.

You’ll fall for each other again; it’s only a matter of time.

Masterlist

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

That day Billy lost his silky 😞

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Autism is so weird bcuz tell me why I haven't been able to write for MONTHS cuz I've been too hyperfixated on Saw to literally do anything??

ALSO HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!! I'M BACK! I had a few things happen(I got a new job, mental health crashed, just silly things).BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS CUZ I'M BACK (kinda)

I'm (not quite ready) to write again, but I'm ready to yap!!! (Feel free to yap w me in the requests box thingie [I'm more likely to awnser if you ask something Saw related XD])

WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

~☆SquidKid☆

(Peep the Saw DVD collection)

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Aaaaa I love this sm 😭🫶 tyyyyyy!

❤️

1. I have the entire Finding Nemo script memorized.

2. I listen to over 4000 songs, 100 genres, and almost 80 decades in music.

3. I one time got semi-viral on TikTok for a Mr. Mackey impression from South Park

(I didn't know what to put 😭😭😭 Hopefully, this works)

join my valentines event!

Hm okay I would ship you with dofp Logan with the gray streak.

This Logan is more aged and seasoned and also more relaxed. His world is saved and everyone he loves is back and things aren't fucking dying lmao.

I think you meet at the mansion. You're a new face that Logan doesn't recognize. I'm thinking art teacher or maybe music. It's wild to him that things aren't falling apart and that the students are able to enjoy classes like art and music. He struggles with the memories of his past and the new life he's living and you notice it quickly.

You and Logan were bordering friends and something more before his mind caught up with the new timeline. Now you see he's acting different. He remembers bits and pieces but a part of him has to learn who you are again. It hurts a little bit but at the same time you get to watch Logan fall in love with you.

He hears the wide variety of music that comes from your classroom and is surprised every time. I mean he's pretty much lived through it all each new song brings him back to a different time in his life and he'd tell you about it. What it was like, what he even remembers.

Showing him finding nemo though, and telling him that he's like Dory which he does NOT appreciate but then its more of a, you are missing a chunk of your life but its okay because you have me and the mansion and its a little sweeter. He does not enjoy being compared to an, in his words, annoying fish.

Also imagine introducing him to tik tok akljdf;. Do you know how funny that would be??? Forcing him into tik tok trends and seeing him just appear in the background of Rogue and Jubilee's tiktoks and the comments going wild about how hot he is LOL

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Nah because I'm literally neurodiverse 💀💀💀💀

Consider yourself tagged if you are reading this:

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz (How Fandom Would See You If You Were A Fictional Character)

Thank you for the tag @machiavellli !

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

This isn't a fic post... but I just watched No Way Home for the first time [I had to buy it]

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This movie fucked me up so bad omfg

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

make you mine

dbf!cowboy!sevika x fem!reader

- summary: you've always had a longing for your dad's best friend ever since she moved into the ranch next door. however, you've had to keep your feelings to yourself out of fear of rejection and for the sake of their friendship. that is...until one night changes everything.

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, wild west au, forbidden love trope, age gap (reader is 21, sevika is 40), old town/ranch setting, sevika has her prosthetic arm, sevika only has a soft spot for reader, drinking & gambling, some harassment & violence (bar fight), gentledom!sev, lots of eye contact, sevika becomes very possessive, reader is shy at first but gets bold later on, use of pet names (sweetheart, darlin' etc), fingering & oral (both giving/receiving bc reader and sevika are a pair of munches), heavy scissoring, a little bit of sub!sev if you squint, and a little bit of aftercare in the end if you squint too

so i wrote this fic to try to cure the massive sevika brainrot that i’ve been having lately but it didn’t work…i still need her

You didn’t mean that much to her…or at least that’s what you had thought.

The feelings were innocent at first. It would begin through a small bit of contact, whether she’d accidentally brush her hand over yours or place her hand on the small of your back when mounting you on one of her horses, you’d end up getting chills down your spine and a small spark would start igniting in your chest. As time passed, it became more prominent. Every time she was near you, that same spark only grew more and more, followed by a tension that lingered between the two of you. You weren’t sure if it was just in your head, and you couldn’t tell if she felt the same way…until now.

It was the night before, and the three of you sat at the dining table having a steak dinner that you cooked up. Earlier that day, Sevika had accompanied you to the meat market to get those steaks. She insisted on paying for them and had already handed the cash to the butcher before you could even pull out your wallet. So to return the favor, you decided to invite her over for dinner.

You’re seated at the table, and before you start eating, you first watch as Sevika and your father take the first bites of their plate, hoping that the steaks turned out okay. “How is it?” you ask them. “I tried out a new seasoning this time.”

“It’s delicious, kiddo,” your dad had said, digging into his plate for another bite. “You always know how to make a mean ribeye.”

Sevika sat across from you, reaching out for her utensils. When she had finally taken a bite, a soft groan came from her as she savored the flavor of it. “Damn, this is good,” she added to your dad’s comment. “I might have to start coming over for dinner more often if you’re gonna be cookin’.”

You giggle at Sevika’s comment and look up at her, watching her go in for the next bite. “M’glad you like it, Sev.” Once you’re satisfied knowing that the food turned out well, you adjust yourself in your chair to start eating. As you do so, your boot ends up lightly brushing over Sevika’s leg, and, in an instant, you bring your feet back to yourself. You hope she didn’t notice your accidental contact, but it was clear that she did.

Sevika froze for a moment when she felt your boot brush up against her leg, and she couldn’t help but blush when you had done so. You hadn’t known just yet, but Sevika would also get that same spark inside her every time you were in her presence. She had never felt this way with anyone to begin with, especially with his best friend’s daughter out of all people. On the contrary, she’s mostly seen you like any other girl in her 20s, too young and naive to take seriously. Sure, you were headstrong, but in her eyes, it only added to your recklessness. That was until one particular night last year, when her feelings took a turn she never expected.

It was the night of your 21st birthday, and for a milestone birthday like that, there was no better way to celebrate than a night of drinks and dancing at the dance hall with your friends. You were too drunk to remember most of the events that night, but Sevika sure didn’t forget.

The night had blurred into a dizzying mess of laughter and alcohol, and by the time you found yourself outside the dance hall, your head was spinning. You fumbled for your phone, dialing Sevika’s number with shaky hands. 

Sevika was fast asleep when her phone rang, cutting through the peacefulness the night was bringing her. She let out a groan when she recognized your number. Groggily, she answered, her voice thick with sleep. “What now?”

“Sevika,” you slurred into the phone. ”I need you to come get me…I’m too drunk…please.”

With a sigh, Sevika got off of her bed and threw on her boots. “Fine, just…hang in there, I’ll be right out.” She wasn’t pleased to be pulled out of bed this late, but she couldn’t be one to leave you stranded out on the streets either.

When she arrived, she didn’t waste any time. With a swift motion, Sevika helped you onto the back of her horse, her grip firm as you clung to her. “Jesus, kid, you’re a mess,” she muttered, her tone laced with impatience.

You leaned against her, your head spinning. “You’re so pretty, Sev,” you mumbled, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Like my knight in shining armor.”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied dryly, but there was a faint tug at the corner of her lips as she kept you steady on her horse.

By the time she got you home, you stumbled to the ground upon entrance. Your giggles were uncontrollable, and you were barely able to get back on your feet. Sevika helped you get back up, but her patience was quickly wearing thin. “Keep it down,” she warned, her voice low. “Or else your dad’s gonna wake up.”

You continued to giggle, still not fully aware of what was going on, and she picked you up and guided you to your bedroom. With a sigh, Sevika helped you sit on the edge of the bed, but before she could leave, you suddenly grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and kissed her.

The kiss caught Sevika by surprise. She froze for a moment, then pulled back, her expression unreadable. She stared at you for a moment before gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Go to sleep,” she said, her voice quieter than usual.

You lazily kick your boots off and lie down in your bed. You snuggle into your blankets, and your eyelids start to grow heavy. “Sevika…stay with me...” you murmured, the tipsiness sinking in as you instantly drifted off to sleep right after.

Sevika hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on your sleeping state before she sighed, her usual coldness returning. “Just sleep it off, kid.” she mutters, her voice soft but firm. She left your room, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you to fall into a peaceful slumber.

As Sevika arrived back home, she couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar ache in her chest. The events of the night replayed in her mind—your drunken giggles, the kiss, the way you looked in her eyes with trust and affection. She set her stetson hat down on the table and let out a long sigh, realizing that no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions together, something had shifted. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

She was starting to catch feelings for you.

Ever since that night, that spark continued to linger inside Sevika when you were around. However, for the sake of your dad, she had to keep herself together and brush it off.

You continue to eat your meal as normal, but you could still feel Sevika’s gaze when you weren’t looking. But every time you look up to see her, she is just concentrated on her plate. But Sevika couldn’t handle keeping her eyes on her plate any longer. 

Sevika called out your name, and you looked up at her, fork still in your mouth. She had her elbow propped up on the table, her human hand holding her fork, which was pointing down at her plate as she spoke. “You doin’ anything tomorrow, by any chance?”

You slowly take your fork out of her mouth and set it down on your plate as you finish chewing. “M’not doing much tomorrow, just my usual chores in the morning, why do you ask?” you reply.

“Well…” Sevika began, trailing off for a bit before continuing. “Was wonderin’ by any chance if you’d like to get drinks tomorrow night? You and me?”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off guard by the unexpected invitation. Knowing Sevika, she wasn’t usually the type to hang out with you, especially for something as casual as getting drinks together. Your gaze shifts to your dad, who sits on your right. “As long as it’s okay with my dad, I could go,” you reply.

Sevika turned to look at your dad who was on her left, patiently waiting for his reply. You couldn’t tell, but deep down, Sevika was extremely nervous, not sure of how your father would react to the idea of her asking you out like this. He didn’t think anything of it though, and let it slide. Your dad turned to the two of you. “Well, I guess it won’t be much harm in you two goin’ out for a drink…” He replies.

You smile at your dad’s approval to let you go, leaning in to hug him. “Thanks, Dad,” you tell him, sitting yourself back down. Your dad nods and looks over at Sevika. “I’ll be workin’ late tomorrow though, won’t be back home til’ the early morning. Just make sure to bring her back home safe, all right?” Sevika nods in acknowledgment. “Of course, I’ll make sure she’s back home safe.” She says, giving your dad a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

Once the three of you finished dinner, you gathered up the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, with a bit of Sevika’s help since she offered. Eventually, Sevika had to head back to her place. Even though she lived close by, it still felt like she was miles away from you.

When Sevika got home, she quickly changed and slipped herself into bed. She tried her best to conceal things, but deep down, she couldn’t get the thought of you off her mind. It frightened her just as much to know that you could end up with someone else who wouldn’t treat you and care for you the same way she did. She wanted you all to herself. She wanted to claim you.

She wanted to make you hers.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──.°˖⋆ ℧ 𓃗 .°˖⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next day passed like an eternity, but before you knew it, the late afternoon had arrived, and your evening was just about to begin.

You sat in your room by your dresser, finishing the touches on your makeup. You decided to dress in light colors for the night, wearing a lavender halter paired with a white skirt and boots, topped off with a white stetson on your head.

You hear a familiar knock at the door, instantly knowing that it was Sevika. It didn’t take her long to wait, within the first minute you were already downstairs and answering the door. You greet her with a smile, admiring the outfit she had picked out for the night. She was beautifully in contrast with you, wearing a deep purple button-up that complimented her olive skin and gray eyes, accompanied by black jeans and boots and a black stetson framing her short hair.

Sevika couldn’t help but take in how beautiful you looked in your outfit, her eyes scanning you from head to toe as she drank your figure in. “You look stunning,” she said, a small smirk growing on her face. 

You blush at Sevika’s comment, shyly looking down at your boots before looking back up at her. “Thanks, Sev, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You tell her with a giggle as you exit your house and close the door shut, and Sevika can’t help but smile back at you once you tell her how good she looks. She holds out her prosthetic arm and places it on the small of your back, guiding behind you as you two walk out of the porch together. You look up ahead in your tracks to see her horse awaiting your arrival, and Sevika whistles behind you to get his attention. Her black stallion trots over to the two of you, and Sevika first assists with mounting you onto him before mounting herself. You scooch closer to her and wrap your arms around her to secure yourself. Your hands clutch her abdomen tightly, and you could’ve sworn you felt her stomach flip when you did so. Once Sevika made sure you were secured onto her, she lightly tapped her heel on the horse’s side, signaling it to move forward.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to the bar, about fifteen minutes or so. Once you arrived, you let go of Sevika so she could dismount from her horse and tie him to the nearest post, securing her spot before coming over and helping you get off of him, her hands never leaving your waist until you safely stepped onto the ground. Sevika felt her heart beat faster when she did so. Just the feeling of your waist under her hands was enough to drive her crazy. As for you, you couldn’t help but get a fuzzy feeling in your body when she grabbed your waist, leading you to gently rub your thighs under your skirt to diminish that feeling somehow.

Sevika walked through the batwing doors of the bar with you following behind her, the heavy scent of whiskey and tobacco hanging in the air once you stepped foot. The low murmurs of conversing patrons mix with the clink of glasses and the shuffling of boots on the wooden floor. The piano plays a slow and steady tune, making the atmosphere of the bar feel timeless.

Sevika skims around the bar when suddenly a voice calls her over. “Hey Sev! Care for a round?” the man says with a challenging smirk, holding a deck of cards in his hand. Sevika smirks back at him, taking up the offer. “Oh, you’re on,” she tells him. She was about to head to her poker group but stopped for a moment and turned to you. “Mind grabbing us drinks? You can put it on my tab, my treat.” She tells you with a wink.

You nod with a smile as you signal Sevika off to go to the poker table. The table of men cheered for her when she arrived, patting her heavily on her shoulders before they started the game. Once she’s sat, you head to the bar to order the drinks. The bartender hands you the beers within a few minutes, and you go to the poker table to sit down next to Sevika. She keeps you close by your side as she plays the game with her group.

The both of you go through the first round of drinks pretty fast. Once both of your glasses are empty, you tap Sevika’s shoulder to get her attention. “I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” I ask her, pointing at her empty glass. Sevika looks over at you and nods. “Yes, please,” she says, handing you her empty glass. Her eyes move over to her deck of cards and back up to her group. “In fact…” she trails off, sliding her winning cards to the middle of the table. “Get us all another round, on me!” she says as she brings her chips over to her side of the table. The men cheer for her, and a few of them groan as they have lost the game. You smile at her excitement over her win. “All right then, I’ll be back,” you say, getting up from the table and making your way back over to the bar to order the next round. Sevika’s gaze didn’t leave you once you did, and she kept herself close enough to where you were in a line of her sight the whole time.

You look over at Sevika and flash her a smile before turning back, awaiting the next round of drinks. The peace didn’t last long, though, when suddenly a man enters the bar and makes the decision to sit uncomfortably close to you. “Hey there, little lady,” he calls out to you. “You here by yourself?” An uneasy feeling washes over Sevika when she saw the man approach you, not liking the fact that he was invading your space like that. She makes sure to keep an eye on him from the table, her eyes focused on you as she continues playing her game.

You scoot away from him, signaling that you’re not interested in him. “No, I’m with someone.” You tell him, cocking your head to the side and pointing over at Sevika. The man barely glances back at her and rolls his eyes, not even seeing her as a possible threat. “Well, you’re by yourself over here, aren’t ya? Think you could use some company…” The man then places a hand on your bare knee, and it leads you to pull your knee away from him. “No, thank you, m’not interested.” you reply.

Sevika’s eyes stay glued to the man and his movements. She knew you could take care of yourself, but the thought of you being close to such a sleazy guy like him made her blood boil. It took everything within her to compose herself, keeping her cool as she remained seated at the poker table.

Things begin to heat up a bit, and your voice starts to rise. “I already told you, sir, m’not interested.” You get off the bar stool, and he does the same. He corners you against the wall, and a sick feeling starts to grow in your stomach. “C’mon, little lady, I can show you a real good time.” He continues to push through you, and before you can say no, his hand trails up your skirt and squeezes your ass, which causes you to raise your hand and slap him across the face in an instant motion. “I fucking said no, asshole!” you shout back at him.

That was the last straw for Sevika. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her entire body shook from rage and anger from what she had just seen. Instantly, she rises from her seat and slams her fist down onto the table, causing the chips and cards to shake from the force. She makes her way over to the both of you, shoving the guy onto the ground and standing right in front of him, the scene causing the bar to go silent. “Didn’t your dad ever teach you how to respect a lady, boy?” she said sternly, narrowing her eyes down at him. “She already told you, she’s not interested.”

The man glares menacingly up at Sevika as he spat on the ground. “You want something, old hag?” He said back, his tone laced with venom as he looked her up and down. Sevika huffs out of her nose and clenches her metal fist in anger, feeling her rage boil even more at his comment. She takes another step forward at him. “Leave, or I will make you.” She growled out, her stance growing into a fighting position. You stay silent as you keep yourself behind Sevika. The guy gets up from the ground and faces her. “Y’know what?” he says. “It’s fine…didn’t even care about bringing that little bitch home with me anyways.” he spits back referring to you.

Sevika couldn’t stand hearing him insulting you like this, but she needed a good enough excuse to deck him in the face, and she wasn’t gonna take up any more of the disrespect that man was giving you. Without a second thought, her fist flies into his face, knocking some of his teeth clean out as he stumbled back onto the ground. She grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and brings him up to her level. “Fucking mess with my girl again, and you might not make the next hit I give you.” she growls at him before letting him go and shoving him back to the ground.

You look at Sevika in pure shock at what she has done. Now, you weren’t in shock about what she had done to the man; he deserved it. You were more in shock about what she had called you.

“My girl.”

“My girl, my girl, my girl…” Her words repeat in your head like a broken record player. Never in your life, never in the years that you had developed these growing feelings for Sevika, had you expected those words to come out of her mouth.

You snap out of your thoughts as you see the man getting up off the ground and admitting defeat. He scurries out of the bar without a second thought, leaving Sevika standing there as she huffed and caught her breath. She kept her eyes on the doors for a moment in case he tried to come back before finally calming down. She let out a deep breath and turned back to look at you. She had this somewhat fearful look in her eyes, and you knew what it was. She feared that you might have heard the words that slipped from her mouth at that moment. You needed to tell her about it, the curiosity was starting to consume you, but now was not the time or place to talk about that.

You quickly shook your head, pretending to be unaware of it for now. You look around the bar to see that everyone is still silent, still staring at the two of you. “Show’s over!” you exclaim, and everyone goes back to their usual business. “Sevika…are you okay?” you say, approaching closer to her as you check both her human and metal fists for any bruises or dents. 

Sevika could feel her heart flutter when you took her hands into yours, goosebumps erupting on her arm when your soft palms touched her calloused human hand. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she replied, her voice going soft as she looked down at your hands inspecting her own. “I’m more worried about you, though. You ain’t hurt or nothin’?” She asked, looking down at you with concern. You shake your head in response, setting her hands back down at her sides. “No, he just grabbed me, that’s all,” you tell her. She lets out a breath of relief at your response, knowing that you weren’t hurt. After making sure the guy wasn’t around anymore, the two of you decided that it was time to call it a night and head back home instead. “C’mon, let’s start heading out.” She said, putting a hand on your waist as you both exited the bar. 

The ride back was oddly peaceful, to say the least. There wasn’t much to be said at the moment since Sevika had saved you, and you both enjoyed the quiet more than usual as you both took the scenery of the sun setting around you, too. Your hands stayed secure on Sevika’s waist as she rode her horse, and your head rested on her back. You felt so safe around her that your body felt the need to briefly go to rest at that moment. 

The horse came to a stop once you both got back to your father’s ranch, and Sevika noticed that your arms weren’t moving and the grip you had on her waist was more relaxed. She slowly twists herself around to see that you had dozed off behind her during the ride back home. She gently shakes your shoulder to wake you back up, and her insides melt as you slowly regain consciousness. “Hey there, we’re back at your place now,” she says to you softly. “Let me help you get down, darlin’.” 

Sevika moves her hands down from her horse’s reins to your waist, gently lifting you off of the horse before letting you back down onto the ground. She dismounts herself right after, and you gently rub your eyes to fully wake yourself up before looking back up at her. “Thank you again for doing that at the bar, Sev…I really appreciate it.” It made her happy to know that you appreciated her help, but in her mind, it felt like the natural thing to do. “Of course, sweetheart. I couldn’t stand seein’ you be bothered by some creep like him.” She said with a soft grin, looking down at you. “Lemme walk you inside, yeah? S’getting pretty late now.”

You follow by her side as the two of you approach the front door and unlock it, letting yourself inside before Sevika lets herself in behind you and closes the door shut. The house was the same as you had left it, meaning that your dad still wasn’t home yet. This gave you the perfect time to ask Sevika about what she said at the bar. Part of you didn’t want to bring it up, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to know what she meant. “Hey Sev,” you turn around to face her. “Can I ask you something?”

Sevika stood at the doorway for a moment before turning around to face you. “Of course, what is it?” she asked.

You shyly look down at the ground, fumbling with your hands as you try to muster up the courage to ask her this. “At the bar…after you beat up that guy, you…you said something, or, well, called me something to be exact.” You paused for a moment before continuing. “You…you called me your girl…What did you mean by that?”

As soon as you had brought up what she said at the bar, Sevika could start to feel her heart beat out of her chest. She hadn’t intended to say it in the first place; it just slipped in the moment. However, she got caught by you, and she knew she had to explain herself before any misunderstanding occurred. “I…” She started, not knowing what to say. Sevika gulped and brought her gaze to the ground, trying to compose some sort of reply.

It was clear that you had caught her in a vulnerable position by asking her this. You’ve never seen her get like this at all before, but you didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable, so you try to shake off the situation. “It’s okay, Sevika, you don’t have to talk ‘bout it if you don’t want to.” You tell her calmly. “‘Was just curious, that’s all.”

Sevika felt her heart drop for a moment when you told her this. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to say it, she just didn’t know how to tell you. She feared that this could go downhill. But she had to do it. This was her chance; this was the opportunity for her to be honest with you, and she couldn’t keep holding it off anymore. “No, no, I-I can explain,” She insists, reaching her human hand out to take one of yours. You gently grab her hand and bring her over to the couch so she can feel comfortable talking to you. “S’okay Sev, what is it?” you ask her as you sit down right next to her. She didn’t know it, but your heart was beating just as fast as hers was. You were praying to yourself that she’d feel the same way that you did.

Sevika took a deep breath as she prepared herself to share what was going through her mind. She mentally prepared herself for any reaction you had given her, whether it could be anger, disgust, or just any sign of rejection. But she was also hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d feel the same way that she did. 

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, sweetheart, I can’t deny it anymore…” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “Somewhere along the way, I started growin’ some feelings for you in a way I didn’t expect…I…I started falling in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at Sevika’s confession, and you could hear your heart beating faster once she let those words out. However, you give her a look of uncertainty; part of you is still finding it hard to fully believe it. “Sevika…do you really mean that?” you ask her, to which Sevika slowly nods in confirmation and gently squeezes your hand in reassurance. “I mean it, sweetheart, every single damn word.” She said, locking her eyes with yours.

There’s another pause before you gather the courage to ask. “When did you realize it?”

Sevika’s gaze softened, her thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “That night…your birthday,” she admitted quietly. “When I brought you home, and you kissed me, it was like somethin’ clicked. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you after that.” She paused, her voice growing a bit more vulnerable. “But I think, deep down, I’ve been feelin’ it for a long time before then—I just didn’t have the strength to admit it.”

Sevika’s words made your heart skip a beat, but another detail had left you flustered. “Wait…” you stammered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I kissed you?” You stared at her, trying to recollect your memory from that night.

Sevika chuckled softly, her lips curving into a small smile. “You don’t remember?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Guess you were really wasted that night. But yeah, you kissed me—caught me off guard, too.”

Your hands trembled inside hers, the weight of her confession and your embarrassment pushing down on you. You shyly lowered your gaze to the ground. “Sevika, I…I didn’t think you felt the same way,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve caught feelings for so long, but I was afraid to say anything, ‘cause I thought you’d push me away—“

Sevika didn’t want to hear the rest of it. Instead, she places her human hand behind your neck and pulls you in for a tender kiss, cutting you off mid-sentence. You let out a gasp as Sevika locks your lips with hers, and you melt into it instantly. Sevika pulls away for a moment, still keeping her lips near yours. “I could never push away a girl like you, sweetheart,” she whispers and brings you back in for another kiss, your heart fluttering with pure joy at her words. The two of you stay like this for a moment, relishing the feeling of Sevika’s soft lips against yours. However, the mere thought of your father finding out about you and Sevika—his lifelong best friend—starts to hit you like a rock, and you slowly pull away from her. “But Sev, what ‘bout my dad?” You ask her. “You know how protective he is of me…he’ll kill you if he finds out…”

It was hard for Sevika not to feel her heart sink as you brought up the topic of your father finding out. The two of you know that it’ll happen at some point, no matter how hard you both try to be discreet about it. It gave her an uneasy feeling, but it wasn’t something that she wanted to be thinking about right now, and frankly, neither did you.

“I know, sweetheart, but don’t worry about that now,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes. M’not going anywhere, okay? I’m willing to take that risk for whatever happens, as long as I get to make you mine.”

Her words eased the knot that formed in your chest, even if it was just for a little. For now, that reassurance was enough for you. You lean into her and give her another kiss. “Least for now,’ you mutter out to her. “I don’t want him knowin’ yet.” Despite that you had to get serious about keeping your dad from finding out, there was just something about keeping Sevika a secret that you found so…thrilling.

Sevika slowly deepened the kiss, her hands finding themselves on your waist as she shifted you over and straddled you onto her lap, pressing herself closer to you as she took in as much of your scent as she could. She slowly ran her tongue across your lower lip, asking for permission. Your lips part open, and her tongue enters your mouth. Her hands begin to roam up and down your body, and they make a brief stop at your hips. She gently squeezes them to bring you closer to her, causing you to gasp into her mouth. The two of you could feel each other growing needy with each passing second, and you were about to be the one who was bound to submit first.

You pull your mouth away from Sevika for a moment, just to catch a breath and look into her eyes. You brace yourself for what you’re about to ask her next. “My…my dad’s still not home yet...we can take things upstairs if you’d like…” You tell her, playing with the collar of her shirt.

There was no further explanation needed after that. Sevika wanted you, and you wanted her— there was no need to deny it or hide from it anymore. Sevika stands up from the couch, and you wrap your legs around her waist, not wanting to get yourself off of her as the both of you head upstairs to your bedroom.

Sevika enters your bedroom and slowly sets you down on your bed, looking down at you with a look of desire in her eyes as you sink into the bedsheets. Your stetson falls off your head once it hits the bed, so you toss it out of the way as Sevika gets your boots off before doing the same with hers. She’s quick to get on top of you, her broad figure towering over your frame, and the brim of her stetson brushes over your forehead. As you did with yours, you take it off of her head and toss it aside, giving you the space you need to lean into her for another kiss. Once her lips reunited with yours, Sevika gently slipped her thigh between yours while also taking your left leg into her human hand and pulling it up on her hip as she deepened the kiss. Her knee begins to push up against your clothed cunt, and you let out a soft moan, causing you to part your mouth away from hers and tilt your head back against the pillow. This gave Sevika the chance to lean in and let her lips fall onto your neck, savoring every sound that elicited from your mouth as she left a trail of wet marks on your skin. 

The feeling of Sevika’s soft, warm lips pressing against your neck was a feeling that your body couldn’t resist. You begin to squirm under her, and you try to rub your thighs against each other for some relief. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sevika. She quickly realized what you were trying to do. She let her body lean against yours and brought her mouth up to your ear. “Do you need somethin’, sweetheart?” She purrs,  to which you nod quickly in response.

“Words, baby.” she says sternly.

You take a deep breath as you try to get the words out of your mouth. “Yes, Sev…I need you…” You whisper back to her.

Sevika let out a soft hum of approval when you said what she needed to hear, and at that point, she wasn’t going to hold herself back anymore. “Good girl,” she mutters, pushing her thigh harder against you once more. You let out another gasp, praying that Sevika didn’t feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay?” You start to feel drunk from her touch, trying to muster up another response. “I-I need you to make me feel good, Sev…need you to make me yours…”

With that, Sevika brings her human hand down and her fingers gently trace along the outer edge of your underwear before letting them go south, smirking as she feels the thin fabric start to get wet. Her fingers gently push your panties to the side and begin to give your pussy the attention it’s been needing. “Goodness, you’re so wet, darlin’…is this all for me?” she asks, looking up at you. You nod quickly in response. “Yes, Sev…s’all for you…”  You get desperate for more contact, so as Sevika’s fingertips continue to run through your folds, you reach your hand under your shirt and trail it up to your breast, gently squeezing it.

Sevika’s eyes darkened at the sight of you. It was taking everything in her to not just take you already. The soft gasps, the pretty noises, the sight of your body, the wet sensation of your needy pussy…it was all so perfect. Sevika began to slowly slide one of her thick fingers into your pussy, and you let out a groan as you grind yourself against her, feeling so content with having a part of her inside of you. However, it didn’t feel like enough just yet. You craved more of her, so you decided to pull an unthinkable move. 

Instead of letting Sevika continue, you bring your other hand down to hers and pull her finger out of you. You then bring it up to her lips so she can get a taste of your arousal. You watch as her lips slowly part themselves open, and she sucks on her finger, the taste of you sending a shiver down her spine. Sevika let out a groan of satisfaction before pulling her finger out of her mouth. “Goodness, darlin’…you even taste perfect.” She whispered out to you, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You moan into Sevika’s mouth as a result, tasting your own arousal in the process. You then pull yourself away from her to look into her eyes. “It’s all for you, Sevika…only you.”

A smirk begins to grow on Sevika’s face. She liked what she was hearing. “Hm, all mine, you say? I sure like the sound of that…” she says, her tone almost teasing. Her lips make their way back to your neck, kissing it once more.

“Do you like it when you’re mine, sweetheart?” she mutters as her lips continue to leave new marks against your skin. “Do you like it when I take you apart like this and claim you as my own?”

You nod quickly in response, only to be startled by a sudden harsh squeeze of her prosthetic hand on your hip. “Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“Mmm—yes, Sevika…” you gasp out. “Wanna be yours, only yours.”

“Now that’s more like it.” 

As Sevika continued to kiss down your chest, you allowed yourself to untie the neck of your top and slide it off of yourself, fully exposing your breasts to her. Sevika pulls away and lets her hungry eyes linger over your chest and torso, viewing the areas of your skin as a blank canvas for her to mark her territory with her lips. She brings her mouth down to your breast and begins to gently suck on the soft flesh, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. She smirks against your skin, then brings her lips to your nipple and takes it into her mouth, humming as she feels it quickly harden under her lips. She continues to take her time with you like this, going down your torso mark by mark until she briefly stops at the hem of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart,” she instructs you.

You oblige to her and lift your hips, opening space for her to slide her hands under you and pull your skirt and underwear down in one fluid motion. You’re now completely exposed under her, like a deer in the headlights, and you can’t help but impulsively close your thighs shut in embarrassment once you notice how wet you were for her. Sevika chuckled over how shy you got for her, and she planted a soft kiss above your knee as she looked up at you. “C’mon, sweetheart…don’t get all shy with me now…” she mutters out quietly, gently rubbing your knees in encouragement.

Sevika gently shifts herself down on the bed and lies down on her stomach, settling herself between your closed legs. She moves closer to you, and her hands go down from your knees to your shins. “Open up for me, baby…” she pleads to you. “I promise I’ll take real good care of you, darlin’… but you have to let me in.”

You can’t help but give in to her words, and you slowly spread your legs out, exposing your soaking cunt to the older woman. Sevika could feel her mouth water at the sight, and she was desperate to get a taste of it. “Such a pretty pussy, baby…” she mutters out. “So nice ’n wet for me…gonna fuck you so so good.” She leans into you and begins to gently lap her tongue through your folds, collecting your arousal on her tastebuds. Sevika let a soft growl escape her mouth as she tasted you, her grip on your thighs tightening as she felt her own body react to the sounds you were making. 

“Oh, God…” you gasp out at the sensation, your gaze peering down at Sevika, and she can’t help but chuckle again at your initial reaction as she spreads your thighs out further to get more space. “God ain’t here to help you now, baby, just me.” she says, licking another stripe up your folds. “It’s ironic, though, seein’ as how your wet little pussy is the closest thing to heaven that I could ever get a taste of.” She dives her head back into your pussy for more, but her eyes remain fixed on you as she wants to catch every one of your reactions to her memory. She didn’t want to miss a single thing.

Sevika runs her hands down the back of your thighs and fully lifts your legs up, folding your knees up to your chest so she can get a better view of your pussy. You whimper at the vulnerable position that she puts you in, and you can’t help but tilt your head to the side and cover your face with the back of your hand in an effort to shield yourself. Sevika notices this and instantly takes her mouth off. “Uh-uh, no hiding,” She muttered in between her movements. She brings her metal hand up to yours and moves it away from your face.

“No hiding that pretty face of yours. If you want me to take apart this needy little pussy, you’re gonna let me hear every sound you make, got it? I want to see and hear all of you.” 

You whimper at her words, nodding quickly as you oblige to look at her. “That’s better…” she mutters, bringing her head back down to continue lapping at your cunt. More moans and whimpers continue to leave your mouth as Sevika keeps licking and sucking all of the wet and sensitive areas of your pussy. Without warning, as a sign of eagerness, she slides two of her fingers inside, and you let out a loud groan of satisfaction as she fills you. “Mm, you like that, needy girl? You like it when I fill you up like this?”  she growls lowly at you, keeping her gaze focused on you. She couldn’t take her eyes off of you—not even for a second. Sevika had to watch every single expression that you would make to know that you felt satisfied with the way she was touching you.

Without a second thought, Sevika gently slides a third finger into your pussy, and the reaction she gets out of you is priceless. Your jaw drops down, and your eyes roll back in pleasure when she begins to curl her fingers inside of you at a painfully slow pace. She leans into you and wraps her lips onto your throbbing clit, giving it the attention it needs. It didn’t take long for her to increase the speed of her fingers, instantly hitting all of the right spots for you to get close. “Oh fuck, Sev! Right there!” You call out to her, your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself steady as she continues to ram her fingers inside your tight walls.

“You’re such a good girl f’me, lettin’ me hear all of you like that.” Sevika mutters from between your thighs. Her pace goes even faster this time, her hand being so strong that you could feel your whole torso shift back and forth on the bed. Your pussy begins to clench around her fingers, practically sucking them in you and taking them in all to yourself as you start to get close. “S-Sevika, please don’t stop…m’so close.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me…” Sevika’s fingers never stop moving, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of you as she is desperate to see the look on your face for when you cum undone onto her fingers. Your pussy starts to spasm around her, and the coil in your stomach begins to get tighter and tighter as you reach your peak. However, that building sensation felt a little different than usual. “S-Sevika, baby, wait,” You try to warn her. “I-I think I’m gonna—“

But it was too late. You couldn’t even finish your sentence as a loud moan of her name replaced it instead. Your jaw drops again, and your vision goes white as an obscene amount of your release squirts out of your pussy without warning, completely soaking Sevika’s face, fingers, and your bedsheets.

Sevika watched in awe as the beautiful sight of your orgasm unfolded right in front of her, never once letting her fingers slow down until you were thoroughly done with your release. Then, slowly, she eased her fingers out of you before lifting her head and licking them clean. Her eyes close for a moment as she savors the sweet and salty taste of your cum on her fingers. “My god, darlin’, you taste so damn good.” she mutters under her breath.

Her eyes blink back open and fix back on you as you recover from your high. Your eyes were fluttered shut, your head was tilted back against the pillow, and your breathing was evening itself out. After a few moments, you blink your eyes back open and bring yourself down to see Sevika still lying in between her legs. Her face and the collar of her shirt were soaked in your release, and you looked down to see the mess you created on your bedsheets. “Oh my god…” you gasp out. Your cheeks start to flush in embarrassment, and your trembling thighs close shut once again. A smirk spread across Sevika’s lips over how flustered you were getting. “Never done that before now, have you?” she asked. Your gaze shifts to the side, and you shake your head. Sevika brings her human hand up to your cheek, tilting your head back to her. “That…” she pauses, leaning in to kiss you. “Was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” She kisses you again and leans into your ear. “No one else gets to make you feel like this. No one else gets to fuck this pussy like I do. You’re all mine now, sweetheart. Mine and only mine.” 

“M’all yours, Sev…” you assure her. You’d hate to admit it, but the way that Sevika got possessive towards you turned you on in a way that you couldn’t explain. However, you couldn’t help but test out if she’d really feel the same way with you. You tilt your head and lean into her. “In that case…does that mean you’re mine too?”

Oh, now Sevika was intrigued. She gently pulled her head back, looking back at you directly. “That a challenge now? You gonna be possessive over me?” she purrs at you, her eyes still locked onto yours. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart,” she warns. “And you might get yourself in trouble.”

“Trouble?” you say in mock innocence, clutching your hand over your chest as if you had been threatened by her. “No no no, m’not looking for that. I was simply just wonderin’ if now…” You pause for a moment, moving your head from Sevika’s ear to her neck to gently plant kisses of your own onto her skin. “…if now, I could return the favor.”

Sevika lets a low chuckle escape her, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment just to feel the sensation of your lips against her skin. Her smirk remains on her face, though, still keeping her tough persona on you as she refuses to submit. “Hmm”, she muttered, the tone in her voice laced with amusement. “You think just ‘cause you want it you can get it that easy? You seem to be getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

Your uncertain look shifts into a pout, and Sevika can’t help but chuckle at you. “Ahead of myself? You think just ‘cause you can claim me, I can’t do the same?”

Without thinking twice, you shift away from Sevika and sit up on the bed. You hook your fingers onto the belt loops of her jeans and switch places so she’s now lying down. You go around her and wrap your legs around her torso, keeping you under her grip. You then grab her by the collar of her shirt and pull her towards you, locking your lips with hers in a deep kiss. She lets out a low moan against your lips and wraps an arm around you, her human hand reaching down to grab your ass tightly and keeping you pressed against her. You pull away from her after a moment, and your mouth starts to travel from her lips to her jaw, beginning to mark your territory on Sevika’s tanned skin by planting wet marks of your own.

Sevika let out a low whine as she felt every mark that your lips left behind, and her hand on your ass tightened as you kept going, squeezing your soft flesh between her fingers. “I thought you were gonna be treating me right, huh?” She teases with a smirk, feeling her body start to warm up as her hand moves up to your waist. You simply smirk against her skin, not stopping your movements. “M’just getting started, Sev…” Your hands trail up to the collar of her shirt, fingers meeting together at the first button. The first button pops open under your touch, and you make your way down to the hem until Sevika briefly lifts herself up to fully slide it off her shoulders and toss it to the ground. 

With your legs still wrapped around her, you sit yourself up to admire the sight of her exposed self beneath you. Your eyes trail down from her neck to her breasts, watching in awe over how large and beautiful they were. You trail your hands up and give them a gentle squeeze, watching how her soft flesh seeps through your fingers and feeling her nipples instantly harden under your palms.

A satisfied groan elicits from Sevika’s mouth as she begins melting into your touch. It was almost as if her own body was betraying her and submitting to you. But she couldn’t allow herself to give in like this so easily. “You’re mine,” she reminds you, lifting her hand and lightly running it over your thigh. “You keep touching me like this, and m’not gonna be able to hold back anymore. You sure you’re ready for that, sweetheart?”

A smirk grows on your face, and you lean back down to her level and bring her in for a kiss. “Then don’t hold back, Sevika,” you whisper to her. “You’re mine too, you know… and I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

With that, you continue to mark up the rest of Sevika’s body, your lips making the route south past her breasts and her abdomen, until they make a stop at the waistband of her jeans. Your lips part from her skin, and you begin to undo the belt buckle of her jeans, desperate to get them off of her. Sevika watched with growing desperation as you did so, and as soon as she heard the buckle come undone, she lifted up her hips and slid her jeans and boxers off of her thighs, letting you get rid of them completely.

You kneel back on the heels of your feet as Sevika opens up for you, and the sight of her was fucking glorious. Her brown, puffy folds perfectly framed her cunt which was completely shining with her arousal, and you could just visibly see the movements of her clit throbbing with desperation. Her pussy exhibited a kind of desire that only you could fix.

And so you immediately put yourself to work. You shift down on the bed and lie down on your stomach, your face now being settled in between Sevika’s thighs. With no hesitation, you dive right into her and lick a stripe up her pussy, your eyes closing in pure bliss at the addicting taste of her. 

Sevika lowly moaned your name once your tongue came into contact with her pussy, already so immersed in the pleasure that she didn’t even notice that her hand had tangled its fingers into your hair, holding you tightly against her. “Oh fuck, darlin’…you’re so good at this…” she praises.

Your eyes blink themselves open, briefly falling out of your trance as you look up at Sevika with the purest and most innocent look in your eyes as you meet her heavy ones. Sevika can’t help but slightly lift your face off of her pussy for a moment just to see the full look of you with her arousal now dripping from your lips, smirking as she does so. “Don’t give me that look now, sweetheart. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Her teasing spurs you on, and you lean back into her pussy and continue to lap your tongue up her folds as she continues talking. “Wonder what your dad might think…his sweet girl submitting down to me like this…I bet he’d lose his damn mind if—oh fuck—“ She cuts herself off with a low groan as you insert a finger into her pussy, her nails digging into her scalp as she jerks her hips into your face.

“A-ah—“ you let out a groan against her pussy, and your eyes close shut again, fully immersed in the feeling of having Sevika’s hands in your hair while devouring her pussy. You quickly add in a second finger, and your lips travel up to suck her throbbing clit, causing Sevika to shut her eyes and arch herself further into your face, moaning and pleading you to keep going. “Fuck, oh god, sweetheart…k-keep going…”

Your tongue lays flat on her clit as it shifts up and down, and your fingers start to curl back and forth inside of her, instantly hitting all the right spots as you give her pussy all the attention it needs. Your movements catch Sevika completely off guard, her eyes flying open as she watches you devour her. “Oh fuck, right there! Right fuckin’ there…” she groans out, the wave of pleasure starting to rise in her as you begin to go faster.

It didn’t take long for Sevika to get close, and you could tell she was by the way her pussy began to clench and contract around your fingers. “God damn, darlin’, don’t fuckin’ stop…m’so close…” she pleads out to you. It was almost as if Sevika had no control over her pleasure anymore and became reliant on you to make her finish, and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Sevika’s body begins to convulse, and you quickly lift your mouth off of her clit and replace it with your thumb, quickly rubbing it in circular motions as your eyes stay fixed on her, impatiently waiting to see the look on her face for when she comes undone. Sevika’s moans grow louder, quickly turning into cries of pleasure until she reaches her peak and cums with a final cry of your name as her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her pussy squeezes a few more times until your fingers are met with the warmth of her release, creaming them from your fingertips down to your knuckles. It was truly the most beautiful sight you have seen and felt.

As Sevika comes down from her high, she finds herself unable to say anything or even get a full breath until your fingers slow down and withdraw from her completely. Her eyes then flutter back open to see you sucking your fingers clean and savoring the salty taste of her release on your tastebuds. “My god, sweetheart…you can’t even imagine what you just did to me…” Sevika managed to say, lifting her metal hand to hold the side of your face. You lean into the palm of her prosthetic as it cups your cheek, and you pull your fingers out of your mouth once they were clean so you could speak. “I told you I can claim you just as good.” you say with a giggle.

Sevika let out a sharp exhale as she took in the sight of you. “I sure see that now…” she then slowly sits herself up, a smirk beginning to rise on her face as she leans in to kiss you, briefly tasting her release on your lips before pulling away. “Think you got another one in you, darlin’?”

Your eyes remain on hers when she asks you that, an eyebrow raising up as curiosity begins to pique your interest. “Depends if I can handle it, baby… What do you have in mind?”

Sevika lets out a chuckle as her metal hand moves to your chin and pulls you in for a deeper kiss. “For starters, how about we trade places, yeah?” she coos out, her hand sliding down from your chin to your waist, slowly rolling you over so you’re back to lying down on your bed with her hovering over you. She then leans back on the heels of her feet to grab onto each of your legs and she spreads them as far open as possible. To no surprise, you were completely wet for her again, as if she hadn’t even touched you at all. 

Sevika lets out a low groan at the sight of you, completely helpless and vulnerable under her grasp. “Mmm, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart…” she purrs out, her eyes never leaving your lower half. As she takes in the sight, Sevika lets a small smirk rise to her face as she leans down closer to your pussy, her grip remaining firm on your legs. “Such a pretty little thing…and so wet for me again already…it’s like she’s crying for more of me.” She continues, shifting her face closer.

“Mmm, Sev…again…” you whine out to her, then let out a soft moan as you feel that familiar tongue of hers lick a new stripe through your folds, followed by a hum of satisfaction coming from her. You had fully given yourself the expectation that Sevika would use her mouth and fingers on you again, but that wouldn’t be the case this time.

Sevika lifts her head back up and takes a second to admire how you looked under her; with your legs spread out under her tight grip and your soaked pussy clenching around nothing as a desperate sign to be filled up. She silently cursed herself for not wearing her strap tonight. She would’ve loved to see the beautiful sight of you being split open by her cock, thrusting into your pussy relentlessly until you’re shaking and coating her length with your release. However, she also wasn’t going to end the night abruptly and miss out on the opportunity to fuck you again, so she had to improvise.

With that, Sevika opens her own legs while keeping her grip on yours. She then hovers over you and presses her pussy right on top of yours, causing you to let out a gasp at the newfound feeling. The way that Sevika’s pussy fit perfectly against yours like that—the way her folds meshed on top of yours as if it were the missing piece of a puzzle—felt so satisfying to you.

Sevika lets out a moan once her cunt came into contact with yours, eyes fixed on the sight of it before she looks back up at you. “You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how good we fit together?” she muses out before pressing down even more and grinding up against you. “It’s like you were made for me, darlin’…Every part of you fits me right where it belongs.” As she felt how addicting it was to rub up against you, Sevika found herself closing her eyes and letting out more soft sounds of pleasure as she continued to slowly grind her pussy over yours. Your body gives the same reaction, your eyes fluttering themselves shut and your head slowly tilting back against the pillow, moaning at the sensation. “S-Sev, my God—you feel amazing…”

Without stopping her slow movements, Sevika slides her prosthetic hand under your head and gently tilts it up, leading you to open your eyes and look at her. You were so in awe of how she looked, how she sounded, and most of all, how she felt against you. It felt like you were in a fever dream. You were completely drunk on her, and she knew it. She loved it.

“S-Sev…” you gasp out, taking a second to catch your breath. “D-Don’t stop—ah!” 

Sevika brushes her clit over yours, causing you to cut off your sentence with a cry of pleasure. Your head throws back against her hand, and your body arches itself further into her pussy. Sevika lets out another low groan on her end, and her hand sets your head back onto the pillow and trails downwards to press down on your lower stomach. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” she murmurs, increasing the pace of her grinding. “You just keep making those sounds for me—ah—you sound so pretty baby…”

You start to whine under her as your gaze drops down to where you and Sevika were connected, and you can’t help but weakly grind against her, desperate to chase that stimulation again. Sevika looks down on you and smirks. She could tell you were trying to ask her something. “What is it, darlin’? You wanna feel that again?” 

Sevika felt no reason to ask again or to hear an answer from you. She fulfills your need as she brings her hand down to your pussy and lifts the hood with her thumb to expose your clit to her. She then adjusts herself upwards so her clit can stay directly pressed onto yours. “There you go, sweetheart…” she purrs out, moaning as your clit begins to throb against hers. “You just take that, baby…take my pussy for me like a good girl.” She begins to grind faster after that, making sure her clit rubs against yours with every move of her hips. But it still wasn’t enough.

“F-Faster, Sev, please…need to get there…” you plead out to her once more, and without a second thought—with no warning whatsoever—Sevika gives it her all and her movements start to go at a fast and relentless pace, completely catching you off guard. “Oh fuck, Sev! Right t-there, o-oh God…” Your words trail out at the end and your jaw goes slack at the intense pleasure she was hitting you with. Sevika couldn’t help but admire the sinful sight of you under her—so vulnerable and drunk in pleasure, with your mouth agape and your eyes all hooded, your hands still gripping tightly onto the sheets and your breasts bouncing uncontrollably as Sevika continued to ram her pussy against yours. It was a sight that she never wanted to stop seeing.

“Mmm…y-you look so…fuckin’ pretty like…this…” Sevika moans out to you, her words coming out in a heated tone as she watches your blissed-out expression. “Look how good you’re taking my pussy for me, my sweet girl…” Sevika presses herself harder against you, and you don’t even realize it, but she ends up taking your leg that was on top of hers and folds it to your chest to get a better angle, making sure she continues to hit the right spots for the two of you to finish. You start to cry in pleasure over the new position, and your legs start to shake under her grasp. “Sevika! O-Oh God, Sev—Right there! Right there, please!” you exclaim, practically begging her to keep her position there. The two of you were at your loudest right now. Between your cries and begs of pleasure, Sevika’s groaning, and the pornographic sound of your pussies squelching as they rub against each other, you’re honestly surprised that the two of you haven’t woken up the entire town at this point.

Sevika lets out a low, heated groan in response to your words, her movements not stopping one bit “Mmm, fuck…my God you feel so good…” she says, her breathing now coming out in heavy, uneven pants. As Sevika keeps her human hand on your thigh, her metal hand swings above your head and grabs onto the headboard to keep herself steady. The familiar coil in your stomach begins to form, and you start to get close again. “S-Sev…I…I’m so…” you pant out to her, trying your best to get the words out of your mouth. Sevika simply shushes you, trying to have you save whatever energy you had left in you for your release. “Shhh, baby, I know, I know…” she coos back, opening her eyes to look down at you. “Just let it go for me, sweetheart…let it all out.”

Sevika continues to talk you through it as you reach your peak, and with that, her clit brushes up against yours a few more times which finally pushes you both over the edge. Your cries of pleasure start to go in sync with her groaning, and both pussies begin to spasm around each other before you cum all over Sevika’s folds with a loud moan of her name. Sevika catches her release shortly after you, her hips stuttering out before finishing with a loud groan as her fluids spill out of her pussy and land onto yours. The two of you take a moment to catch each other’s breath, and Sevika slowly loosens her grip on your thigh while she lets go of the headboard. The two of you look down to where you were both connected, and Sevika pulls her cunt away from yours, causing you to whine at the loss. The strings of slick connecting the two of you breaks and Sevika slowly closes your legs before settling down next to you. “Mmm…sweetheart...You did so well for me…” she murmurs to you as she gently kisses your shoulder, her voice still filled in a deep and husky tone. Even after having sex with her, you still couldn’t help but find her voice to be intoxicating.

You simply hum at her in response and try to muster up some energy to tilt your head over and plant a quick kiss on her lips, leading the older woman to wrap her human arm around you and pull you closer to her. The warmth of Sevika’s embrace fades into the stillness of your bedroom, and the exhaustion catches up to you quickly, causing your eyes to flutter shut as slumber starts to consume you. It feels like only a moment has passed when your eyes open again, and you find yourself tucked beneath a clean set of sheets and a barrier of soft cotton hugging your figure. Your eyes slowly dart around your bedroom, and your heart sinks when you see Sevika with her boxers back on and searching for the rest of her clothes. A lump forms in your throat as you realize she’s getting ready to leave. You want to ask her to stay, just a little longer, even though you both know she has to go before your dad comes back. Before you can stop yourself, the words are quick to slip out of your mouth.

“Sevika?” you call out softly, your voice still laced with sleep. Sevika is quick to stop what she was doing to tend to you. “Hey there,” she says, giving you a soft smile once she sees that you had woken up. “You alright?”

You hesitate for a moment before continuing. The words feel heavy on your tongue, but the ache that was growing in your chest outdoes it. “Could you…could you stay…just a little longer? Please?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika pauses, and her eyes flicker to the window where the faint glow of the moonlight is still filtering through it. For a moment, you thought she’d say no—but this time, she gives in—and whatever worries about your dad's arrival in the morning seemed to fade as she turned back to you with ease. “Of course, sweetheart…I’ll stay with you.” she murmurs, her voice tender as she removes her prosthetic arm and sets it down on the ground next to the bed. The weight of the bed shifts as Sevika climbs back into bed and lies down right behind you. Her human hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to her. You instantly melt into her strong, warm embrace, but you can’t shake the possibility of your father walking in on the two of you, making you feel uneasy. Sevika is quick to take note of this and leans in to plant a couple of soft kisses on your shoulder blade, her lips brushing your ear as she leans into you. “Hey. Don’t worry about that right now, okay?” she murmurs. “Everything will be fine, I promise…I’ve got you.”

You nod, the weight of her words sinking in as her embrace wraps you in comfort and warmth. Slowly, the uneasiness disappears, soon replaced by a sense of peace only Sevika could give you. With her presence beside you, you let go of all your worries, and the gentle rhythm of her breathing brings you into a deep, restful sleep. As you drift off, a soft, reassuring thought crosses your mind—this night with Sevika felt like the start of something real, something that won’t fade.

For now, you’re unsure of what the future might hold, but with Sevika by your side, you feel ready for whatever could happen next.

god i wish she was real

2025 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Y'ALL GIMME REQUESTS!!!!

I'm currently feeling on top of the world cuz I just got a keyboard for my tablet.... which is an absolute GAAAAAME CHAAAAANGER for writing.

There's more Didn't We Almost Have It All? also coming soon(ish). I have the whole thing in my head... I just need to write it down XD

(psst request some Arcane or Spider-Man stuff? it'll GUARENTEED get done because I am a mess of Arcane and MARVEL brainrot rn ANYHOW byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

~Cas/Squeed

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Just realized my ride with Jayce as a character was a full enemies to lovers arc😭

Season 1 I could not stand this man, I thought he was so annoying. I basically just wrote him off in favor of other characters for years. Then episode 1 of season 2 came out and the fight scene with him and Renni happened. During that I was so worried he was going to die before stopping myself and going “Wait, why do I care?”😭 that spiraled into me looking back and starting to actually understand his character. Now I’m obsessed with him and he’s one of my favorite characters. I hate it here.😭

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

The Disney prince to the father of my children pipeline needs to be studied.

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

idc what people say i cant stand men thristing over Sevika because what part of her is giving them an idea that my queen might be interested in men?

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

"ALL I FUCKING DO IS SOB ON THIS APP!" I say as if I had no idea it was angsty (seriously this was written GOREGOUSLY oml)

Nothing's New - Ch.1.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, a lot of angst, smut to come somewhere mid-way through

Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6.

word count: 5,7K

tag: #nothings new

summary: It's a bit late, but I had to touch some grass. This is an expository chapter that puts almost all pawns on the table. It's mostly angst and it's a very experimental thing for me, I will be updating warnings as we go. Updated probably every week or sooner!

Cross-posted on AO3 (soon)

—

“Hey,” he says in a warm tone, a gentle nudge on your elbow as a cold glass is placed bottom-flat on your palm. A very much welcomed chill in the suffocating, wet, soggy heat on Jayce’s balcony, which still isn’t as bad as the inside of his apartment. Then, a pair of strong hands, their warmth equal to that of the voice, wraps around your biceps. A pair of blue eyes looks deeply into yours, analysing, searching the inside of your head.

“It’s okay. I love you.”

A layer of moist cotton brushes your face before the mass of a broad chest squishes your nose in an embrace.

“What?” you muffle into the material, tasting salt against your lips, the smell of sweat—the good kind, the strong, manly kind—and pine hitting your nostrils, your arms hanging idly by your sides, one of them gripping the cold glass tighter. “Why would you say it now?”

That is a first. A love confession thrown casually between the two of you, like a lifebelt for your sanity, waggling desperately in a muddle. He moves away, and you down the whiskey along with the ice cube, which you shove into your cheek.

His palms still cradle your arms as he leans in, his head hanging pensively from his neck. A wonderful, beautiful, reassuring smile paints his lips as he says, “I just felt like saying it. And it’s alright.”

Hot, very hot, very honest lips press themselves to your sweaty forehead, leaving a lingering kiss. The embrace resumes, this time your face pressed to the side of his neck, as he murmurs, “I don’t need you to say it back. I don’t need you to do anything, just… try to relax.”

Absurd. No one just throws their heart out like that to be eaten. No one with any common sense or self-respect.

You push yourself back from his chest, letting his hands fall, entwined, on your lower back. God, the heat is unbearable. “This is a big thing to say so casually. Why now?”

“Alright, you got me,” he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you something.” He scratches his neck and looks at you with timid hope.

His tone is playful, expectant to the point of twisting your guts. When all he’s confronted with is a pair of eyebrows raised into two inquisitive arches, he relents, “I want you to move in with me.”

You swallow your ice cube. With a painful gulp, it travels down your throat, and you can feel it passing your heart, your lungs, all the way down to your stomach. You can hear it dropping into the pool of acid with an echoing plop sound. Shit.

“Is this because he is here?”

“What? No—” his grossly hot hands cradle your cheeks, and you feel your skin warming up even more under his calloused fingers.

“Of course not. I have planned it, and I have proof,” he says calmly, pulling a set of extra keys from his back pocket and dangling them between your faces. “See?”

When no reaction comes from your side, just a stunned expression, he starts jangling them furiously and laughing.

His smile is blinding. Imperfect, teeth almost too big for his face, it makes his cheeks rise up, his eyes crinkle heavily, and he looks gorgeous.

“You are around all the time anyway. But fine—just promise you will think about it.”

Wordlessly, you take the keys from his hand and put them in your pocket. “This is not a yes. But I will think about it,” you shoot him a warning look, which softens immediately when you see him resist an expression of relief crawling up his face.

“And thank you,” you say with a tiny hint of a smile, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek and running your knuckles through his stubble.

“You should mingle. These are your friends, after all.”

Yes. These are your friends. Who, against their better judgement, haven’t ostracised you, as you were sure they would. Who have greeted you wholeheartedly at the doorstep with real, joyful hugs and expressions of relief upon seeing you. Jayce grabbed you tightly and lifted you off the floor, and Mel gave you a massive, loud smooch on the cheek, very aunt-worthy.

“What are you going to do? Just air out all evening?”

You relax into his touch, pushing your hands down his jeans’ back pockets.

“Oh, I’ll mingle. Just… later,” he smiles and kisses you lovingly.

His kisses are nice, though stressful. Like he is thanking you for existing and allowing him to stand by and maybe hijack your act of being. Even though he assures you there are none, the invisible, deniable mass of expectations makes you walk on wonky legs around him.

His hands cradle your shoulders, rubbing them so tenderly, you almost don’t mind the heat. Almost. Slowly, very slowly, his touch has crawled into your memory and become the default touch you expect whenever feeling the sensation of someone’s skin resting on yours, and sadly, a little part of your soul usually whines in disappointment at being touched at all. A good, uncomplicated man with enough insecurities to keep you relatively safe and complacent.

You give him one last lingering peck and head inside, letting the wave of inhumane temperature and the scent of sweat mixed with alcohol breath wash over you. Mel and Jayce live in an old building; no artificial air allowed. It reminds you of your previous place, where, against all odds, you slept naked, covered only by a thin sheet of cotton, just so you could wrap yourself around your skinny love. You push the memory away, as it twists your stomach.

A sea of teeth greets you indoors, one smile after the other, as you squeeze yourself through the crowd toward the kitchen. You march straight to the freezer to pour yourself another drink filled with ice cubes and sigh with relief when a cold gush fans your face.

“Good evening,” a voice startles you so hard you gasp.

Fuck.

You look to your right beyond your shield of the freezer door, and there they are—two slim calves draped over each other and a cane in front of them.

Still crouched, you take a fistful of ice from the drawer, stand up, and say only a stupid, “Hi.”

Viktor is studying you, like an owl would study a rodent. His eyes glint in the dusk, blinking slowly as if he is waiting for you to say anything that has more than one syllable.

He saw you coming in, and his heart skipped a beat. After a quick analysis of all the options he had, he chose the cowardly hideout in the bathroom, a splash of water onto his neck swollen from grinding teeth, and a couple of deep breaths stolen while sitting on the closed toilet.

You alone are enough to make his skin crawl, and yet, to ensure his ruin, you brought your ‘new project’ with you.

Tall, taller than Jayce, broad, broader than Jayce, a man who steals the gasps from the crowd wearing only a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. A complete embodiment of everything Viktor isn’t. A slap on the face, a shoe sole grinding it into his pride.

And now you are here, scrambling up from the floor, melting ice dripping through your fingers.

“How… are you?” you ask dumbly, before cringing at your own obsequious tone. You know exactly how he is. Mel has sneaked in a few text messages before you cut her off and changed the subject. Jayce has tried to contact you at the beginning but eventually stopped—possibly at Viktor’s request.

He looks like a man who has just recovered from a long, devastating disease and has managed to crawl his body into the outside world for the first time in months. And judging by the way you felt in the first two months, that might have been true.

But after the first two months, you met Paul. And Paul is warm and gentle, good at mending broken objects and skittish animals, so you are an obvious perfect fit. He also lies a lot about his life, films he’s seen, and books he’s read, but to peel that entire truth out from its shell you would have to spend more time with him.

He made the first step after buying a book from you. His hands were rough, his fingertips hardened from the heavy strings of a double bass, but his soul seemed clean, and he smelled nice.

He is a teacher by day and a musician by night, chasing his passion with a steady pace, happy to have two good hands that allow him to play, hug you, cook for you, and dance with you. He fixed his eyes on you as you carefully wrapped Coming Through Slaughter for him, while he threw silly remarks in your direction.

“You’re really good at this,” he said with a dumbfounded grin.

“Wrapping books?” You looked at him from underneath your glasses, but the contagion of his smile bled into you, and the quip held no power whatsoever.

He chuckled and slid you a flyer with a 20-dollar bill, brushing your fingers. “Come see my band tonight. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You took it but said nothing. With a teasing smile, you handed over his book and chanted the shop’s slogan, “Thank you for shopping at the Bookhounds of Brooklyn.”

He smiled back, tucked the package under his armpit, and gave you one last look. “See you tonight.”

You shook your head. But you went. And then you got stuck in the tight wrap of his arms holding you through the night. And then before you could stop it from getting serious, he met Mel and Jayce and pried them about your quirky behaviours between drinks and snacks. Before you could stop anything, Paul glued himself to your life and became a needy sticker you carried with you everywhere. Sometimes you caught yourself thinking awful things, like if Viktor felt the same around you when you probed him for chunks of words after he came back from work utterly defeated and worn out.

And now, while your chunk of beautiful meat is airing his arse outside, you are stuck in the kitchen with your ex. Three years flash behind your eyeballs as you wait for him to reply to your stupid question. “I’m… fine.”

The words come out choked, and Viktor scowls internally. He can feel the scrutiny of your stare and clears his throat. He is far from fine. He is beyond pissed with Jayce for not telling him you were bringing a plus one. He is pissed that your plus one is his exact opposite. He is absolutely livid with Jayce for telling him to act civil and try to rebuild the friendship—for Jayce’s sake. “Please, try, for me,” Jayce had pleaded, and Viktor could only scoff in his face.

But above all this, he feels a wave of white-hot anger anytime he thinks of you. The sight of you surges a blinding hatred through his veins, and he pictures your spine snapping in half. And above even this, he hates himself, because the sordid, unspoken truth is staring him in the face. He misses you with every bone in his body.

He misses your face. He misses your half-drunken cups of tea everywhere to the point where he has started doing it himself. He misses the weight of you on the mattress next to him. He misses your whining about the heat in his apartment in the summer and the chill in winter. He misses word wrestling with you. He misses your jokes. He misses fucking you. He misses your snoring.

He misses your hand at the nape of his neck late at night when he sits hunched over the desk, and he scolds himself for ever brushing it off, because there is a strong possibility that nobody will ever touch him like that again. That he will never want anyone to even try to mimic your touch.

“I can see that your new project proves successful?” Don’t sound so hurt. He shifts his weight on the cane and looks down at your hand, holding the ice out like an offering.

“Don’t call him that,” you scoff. This was such a bad idea. But if you were ever to emerge from your cave of love, where you have lived happily with Paul for the last four months, Mel’s birthday is the perfect occasion. And Jayce would probably give an arm and a leg to get his friends back.

“Forgive me. Your new affair goes well then,” he corrects himself with less emotion but an equal amount of venom as earlier. He feels like stabbing you with his shoulder blade.

“Viktor,” you sigh, defeated. “This isn’t an affair. It’s… serious.” Wrong word, very wrong, but unretrievable now. It sounds like an apology, your brows furrowing, your face twisting into an upside-down smile. It seems serious enough to be said out loud.

“Oh? Working fast. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Viktor turns away, but it takes him merely a beat to pick up what you were putting down. Serious. His lungs begin to burn. He wants to rub sand into his eyes and cover them with bleach, so he never has to look at you again.

“Viktor, it just happened. Please, let’s not do this here.”

Seeing him turning on his heel, you drop the remaining ice in the sink and reach out for him. Before you can grab his arm, he pauses.

“Apologies. We don’t have to do any of that, in fact, ever,” he throws over his shoulder.

You didn’t give him the benefit of the last conversation, so why would he? His lizard brain screams at him to flee and hide, away from your touch, from your eyes, from your ice-cold hand, from your hot mouth. But he isn’t fast enough.

Your hand lands on his forearm, and he freezes. He speaks your name softly, a plea to let him go as your touch burns him, even though your hand is wet and cold.

Part of him wants to grab it and lick the ice-cold water off your fingers. To choke on your tongue and beg you to come back to him. But this part of him is weak, and the stronger, wounded part wins. The one that shrugs your hand off in a familiar gesture, this time less painful, more anticipated than in the confines of Viktor’s apartment in the heat of last summer.

“I know you are hurting,” you say carefully. You know him well enough to recognize when his defences become ridiculous in their concentration of venom. If he were a cat, he would hiss at you and bend his spine into a banana.

“You know nothing,” he scoffs. “You cannot possibly know. Hiding away in shame for six months. How would you know? If you are happy and serious with someone else?”

Careful. He is inching toward saying too much. It feels like having open-heart surgery in front of a live studio audience, and no one even laughs. He wants to die and never be born again. He wants to disappear from the face of this sorry planet, just as you have disappeared from his life. He wants to kill Paul and wear his skin like a pelt, even though he doesn’t even know if the guy deserves it.

You feel the anger stirring somewhere within you at his behaviour. He is not the only person whose three-year relationship has fallen apart. He’s not the only one who mourned it and cried for it. It sounds great in your head, so:

“Viktor, you are not the only one—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me that you are hurting. It was fixable, and you—” he snarls, accentuating each sentence with a thump of his cane.

“If it were fixable, we would have fixed it. Viktor, please,” you plead quietly, trying not to drag anyone’s attention. You were supposed to be civil; Mel has asked you to.

“No. Just… stop. There was time for this, now it’s… it’s not the time. Enjoy your evening.” His voice strangles; his face paints in resignation as he leaves you alone in the kitchen.

How different this is to your first, to your second encounter, to all the encounters between your first and this one.

You remember it so well. Jayce was fuming when you told him what had gotten into your hands. The first English edition of Geometry and Experience by Albert Einstein. He wouldn’t be able to buy it, of course, but he really wanted to see it. He begged you to let him steal a glance and to let him bring a friend.

And so he brought his friend. You led them to the basement of the shop, where the book was resting on its plinth, in a special dust-free room with perfect temperature and perfect humidity. You took them to the shrine for books, and it felt almost religious.

And you remember the first time you laid your eyes on Viktor and blushed instantly at how his name rolled off his accented tongue when he introduced himself.

You remember how you thought this man was effortlessly everything. How you stole a glimpse of the column of his throat when he hummed in awe over the book and how you wondered if he would ever be willing to hum like that straight into your ear. How strangely erotic his hands were when you pictured them cradling your neck. How in this shrine, you would pray to him so he would do that in a sign of benediction.

Oh God, you wanted to take him home and just keep him there until he was out of breath.

And you remember how beautiful his face was when he first came into your mouth and how he immediately leaned in to kiss you, even before you could swallow. How you thought this was the most sensual thing anyone had ever done for you, with you, drinking his own cum from your tongue. The unity of bodies sealed with a kiss so grateful you almost fell apart.

The images of Viktor flood your mind’s eye: him drinking coffee on the windowsill, naked in the scorching summer sun as he warms his bones; his eyes observing you from between your thighs; him licking your face in a gross act of affection; slumped against the desk, asleep halfway through writing down his notes; sneaking behind you to warm his hands under your armpits; his face when he is sleeping, his hair scattered on the pillow; singular strands on the bathroom floor even though he always accuses you of losing hair; him pinning you down playfully when you win a banter over something and immediately groping your ass; him imitating trumpet sounds from your jazz records with his mouth; him drinking soup straight from the bowl; his glistening lips, his clean nails, his freckled chest.

You sink your teeth into your lip, feeling a rush of tears pooling in the corners of your eyes when Paul enters the kitchen. Always on time.

“Everything alright?” The way Paul hangs himself from the doorframe and immediately lights up when he sees you. The way he walks up and hugs your head to his chest, saying your name softly and making soothing sounds straight into your ear. Ah, yes, he is exactly what you need.

“Nothing, just… you know,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.

“It’s okay,” he hums softly. “Do you want to scram?” He pulls away from you to lay a lifeboat at your feet.

“Oh God, yes, please,” you let out a breath you’ve been holding, and it feels so good your eyes roll. Anything but another encounter with the ghost of the love of your life. Of the former love of your life.

“Let’s go then,” he says, taking your hand and leading you discreetly to the hallway.

Mel stops the two of you in your tracks. “You cannot be serious right now,” she hisses, though not unkindly. Big, comical eyes accompany the hiss, so you know she isn’t really angry. “Viktor left; you don’t have to run away, guys,” she adds, a plea in her voice evident.

“Mel, I’ll meet you for coffee? This has been... lovely, I’m just—” You are just so utterly devastated that even if Viktor disappeared from the face of this planet, you wouldn’t want to stay.

“Oh, please, do not try to bullshit me. I’m sorry about this, Paul, but I need to speak some sense into this fool.” She waves a mass of your man away from you to grab your forearms. “Nobody is angry with you. We miss you. Please, you guys have to work this out. Jayce is still heartbroken, and I can’t do anything about it,” she says quietly, her voice laced with sincerity and helplessness.

Jayce was really heartbroken about your heartbreak. On the night of the event, Jayce found Viktor struggling to breathe in his apartment, so he took him home and kept him on his couch for a week, to Mel’s initial disapproval. But when she saw Viktor on the doorstep of her flat—when he clung to her and sobbed with a dry cry, repeating, “She’s gone,” over and over again; when she saw the marks on his palms where his nails had dug into the skin—she was ready to give him her own bed.

Mel felt bad in that moment because she knew it would happen. You had told her how hopeless everything had turned. That Viktor wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t try, and how the two of you had grown estranged, guarded, distant, and how you couldn’t pinpoint the moment when things had started to fall apart. How he would flinch away from your touch and sleep miles away from you, a vast, uncaring space between the two of you in your tiny bed.

So she held him, soothing his cries. She made him a cup of tea, gave him her favourite blanket, and kissed his forehead before turning off the coffee table lamp in their lounge. Then she went to slump her body next to Jayce, whose face had never been more worried. He asked her how Viktor was, and all she could do was shake her head in resignation.

“For now, it looks bad,” she said, cradling Jayce’s head to her chest and running her fingers through his hair. “But these things pass, you know,” she mused gently, not believing herself, and she was sure Jayce didn’t believe it either.

“I don’t get it. I know there were… issues, but this—” His voice got lost somewhere between his throat and mouth. Jayce only knew this much. He only knew what Viktor had told him, and Viktor said only that there were issues.

He didn’t tell Jayce how you had asked him if he was having an affair. How he had outright laughed in your face. How he had said, “That’s rich,” laced with venom. How he had hissed that you should get some help if the first thing you assumed was that. How egocentric you were if you didn’t see the stress he was under, presuming the long hours spent fighting for his—your—future were spent in someone else’s arms. How shitty you were for even suggesting it, after all his past love confessions. How you wouldn’t give him any time. And how you had said a year is a long time—how, within a year, millions of people are born and die, and he had barely touched you twice.

He didn’t tell Jayce how annoyed he was with your half-empty cups leaving pale rings on his wooden furniture. How annoyed he was that you couldn’t even take care of plants, and he had to come back home just to water them; otherwise, he could just spend all his time at work. How your dusty books spilling out of a bookshelf he had bought for you had annoyed him. How utterly pissed off he was when you would open the windows in the summer, letting the scorching heat inside. How it had started to make his skin crawl when you would whine along to the scratched records of Robert Johnson—and how they were scratched because you had no respect for the hardworking needle of your turntable.

And he didn’t tell Jayce how annoying your hair on the bathroom floor was, or how it drove him mad that you would move objects around into illogical spaces, only for your convenience, completely disrespectful of his previous order. How he hated the dusty pink wall you had painted together. And he didn’t tell Jayce how he wanted to slap you, to touch you, to make love to you when he was sad—but he couldn’t, because everything felt overwhelming, and nothing had felt right. And the only certain thing in his life was that when he came back home to water the plants, you would be there—sad, but you would be there—still wanting him, waiting for a moment when he would be ready to come back to you.

And later, he didn’t tell Jayce how he had discovered that the hair on the bathroom floor was, in fact, his, and how stupid he had felt about collecting it and putting it in an envelope, and the envelope in the box, alongside commemorative trinkets that you had left behind.

But once Jayce rushed to his aid, he instantly knew. When he saw Viktor curled up on the couch, holding your scarf in one hand and a crumpled note in the other, gasping for air, crying, he knew.

“Oh, there was more than issues, Jayce. I just… hoped they would finally talk,” Mel sighed. She had given you all the advice she could think of, but Viktor repelled every seductive technique she had sold to you in secrecy under girl’s code.

“You didn’t see him, Mel. He couldn’t breathe, I—”

“I know. I should probably check on her, though. I only got the voicemail, and then Viktor called,” she referred to your sobby message. Mel, I can’t breathe. I left, and I feel like I’ve died. After that, your phone was off—for a week. Utterly neurotic and dramatic.

But your undoing was relatively peaceful. Numbing, almost. Quiet, save for the constant wail of Sinead O’Connor. And no, not Nothing Compares To You. Drink Before The War.

It felt like being shot through a cannon into space—weightless and hopeless. The infected wound, previously festering, was now being painfully cleaned; remnants of rotten tissue pulled away, sewn up with a crude needle, leaving an empty spot under the skin to create an ingrown scar that would always remind you of him.

Your stuff was still in boxes, hanging in limbo between going back and moving forward. The number of times you had written a text, deleted it, written it again, deleted it, written it again, deleted it to write only a “hi,” and deleted that as well. The number of times your hand had hovered over the button and never pressed it. The number of times your feet had carried you to check if the light was on, and the way your heart hurt when it wasn’t. That was your bargaining phase. It lasted three days until it bloomed into depression.

You found yourself warming up the same cup of coffee six times a day. And you drank it from your least favourite cup. You were making food that you ended up not eating after all. You were confessing your sins to objects around the apartment. A lot of tears, very few showers, hair greasy for weeks.

Until, one day, you woke up with complete clarity—that when your eyes opened, you would find yourself in your own apartment, not Viktor’s. With a certainty that, beside you, your bed would be empty. And it would no longer be a shock that struck you like a slap. And you would no longer wake up from a dream in which you talked to him and be confused that he wasn’t there by your side. The derealisation would leave you, to settle in the grimmest phase of grief—bitter, heart-wrenching acceptance.

The last time you had tried to call him was three months ago. Barely two weeks after meeting Paul. Only to sigh and discover you were still blocked. There was one more time when you tried sending an email, but you cringed at the thought. How utterly crude, sending an email to his work mailbox. How utterly impersonal, how disrespectful.

And you thought you had been cured. That the only side effect of your three-year affliction would be an everlasting discomfort. The rest of it was something you had refused to touch. And now it had touched you. It had touched you through Viktor’s sad eyes, through his disappointed voice, through his hunch, through the crinkle in his shirt indicating that he debated whether to come to Mel’s birthday until the very last minute. And you were sure he wished he hadn’t come.

“I… I tried, Mel. He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you sigh heavily, an apology written all over your face. But Mel wouldn’t have it.

“Try harder. He was a friend before this. You were. We were all friends, and now Viktor barely says a word to Jayce because he thinks we’re taking sides.” Mel’s inquisitive eyes linger on you, and seeing you flinch at her last words, she adds, “Which we are not. We get it. Just… please.”

“Mel, he blocked me everywhere. For all I know, he’s also changed the locks.” Your voice cracks, and the thought of Paul lingering nearby and possibly hearing every word makes your face hot with shame.

Your friend sighs, her eyes softening. “Alright. Okay, I shouldn’t do this,” she says, glancing around to check if anyone could hear you. She leans in closer and hushes into your ear, “Jayce is meeting him next Friday at noon at the second-hand furniture shop. Viktor asked for help with transport.”

“And I’m supposed to crash their date? You think this will fix things?” You scoff, bewildered. It sounds like a particularly bad plot.

“I’m leaving the decision to you. And if something is stupid but it works, then it wasn’t stupid in the first place,” she states, placing two kisses on your cheeks. “Please don’t be a stranger anymore.”

“That I can do. The other… well, I can try,” you whisper, shielding it from Paul’s ears. Seeing you exchange goodbyes, he walks over and asks if you are ready. When you nod, he takes your hand and leans in to kiss Mel’s cheek. “Happy birthday.” Which also meant, “I know what it’s like to be in the drama and not be part of the drama.”

“My place or yours?” he asks as you walk sluggishly in the still unbearable heat of the night. “Uh… could we do both tonight? I’m… shattered.” What you mean is, “My mind is unsound. I’m afraid I’ll be crying all night, and I don’t want you to see it. I don’t want to make you feel horrible. Please let me be alone.”

Paul pauses momentarily, gives you a heavy sigh, though his tone remains warm. “Don’t you think it’s better to just… move on?”

You take a moment to stare. “Yes, um… that would be ideal. Though not so easy to do.” Your tone is very matter-of-fact since you used up most of your self-control to not shoot back, “You don’t fucking say.”

“Well, are you intending to? At some point at least?” he muses, playing with your fingers, his eyes low, fixed on his shoes.

“Paul, I mean—” you sigh, dropping your hand from his. “If there is a chance I can fix the friendship, I will cling onto it, you know this.” Your arms cross on your chest as you take one step away from him.

“No, I get it—I am friends with my exes,” he smiles, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just don’t think that little guy will make it so easy for you, is all.”

“Please don’t call him that,” you scoff again, growing annoyed and uncomfortable in the corner he’s trying to lure you into. “He is just hurt,” you manage to say, and it is mercy.

“I know what it’s like to break up, you know,” Paul says, having no idea what it was like to break up with Viktor. “And I get that it hurts. All I’m saying is that we only hurt as long as we don’t move on,” says Paul, having no idea how much love can hurt.

You sigh, shaking your head. Your mouth opens and closes into a fake smile as you give him a cold kiss on the cheek and whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

Only when the door to your apartment slams shut do you allow yourself to breathe again. A couple of shuddering breaths, despite the heat. Cold hands and feet. Viktor’s arm beneath your palm. A millisecond in which it felt familiar to touch him. You feel the burn in your sinuses, and your mouth goes dry. Suddenly, you notice the agonising cold of your stuffy flat.

And when you finally manage to throw yourself into bed with a punched-out gasp, you keep lingering around Viktor. A harrowing thought blights your brain—one that you don’t dare speak aloud; you can only scream it into the void.

And you have no idea that Viktor is thinking about you as well, as he comes undone in someone else’s arms. And he imagines it’s your hands that bring him over the edge. And that it’s your hair he breathes in when he falls asleep. And he has the same harrowing thought that you have, but he doesn’t dare speak it aloud either.

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Girlhood is sobbing to YOUR OWN fanfiction that YOU WROTE over a whole pot of Hidden Valley Ranch Instant Potatos and blaring Hatsune Miku 😔✌️

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object