#welcome to the lesbian bar

[twig-tea]

With 23.5 finally coming out, the people are rejoicing at finally getting a high profile gl from GMMTV. But there have already been several gls airing this year, including my fav TsukuTabe, that have been flying under the radar with fandom, and in general there are more gls already out there than folks seem to think. I just know you have a list of all the gls we should be watching, please share with the class!

Thank you for the ask! How did you know I had a draft of GL recs to make at some point? [Trick question, I mentioned it to you.]

It may seem like I'm out here hating on GL because i've made a couple of negative reviews of recently airing series recently (Love Senior and Chaser Game W in case you're curious) but I actually have lots of GL that I love and that I wish were better known! Thanks for sending this ask so I am inspired to actually finish it! I've limited myself to series so that I could keep the list and this post to a reasonable length. Where possible I've listed where you can find each of these and included a link. And I've included an 'elevator pitch' summary but I am NOT in marketing for a reason, so please don't roast me too hard for my terrible comparisons. Alright, enough waffling!

Twig's GL Rec List

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat S1 & 2 (Japan, 2022 & 2024, both seasons fansubbed by @furritsubs; if you need help accessing this show feel free to DM me!)

Elevator pitch: Our Dining Table with lesbians and an even slower burn. Watch for beautiful food, acespec rep, mental health and therapy rep

What might turn some off: Extremely low heat, and quite slow-moving; warning for a disordered eating and family trauma plot (v gently handled)

Let's start with the one you've already mentioned. This is a heartwarming slice-of-life slow burn in which an autismspec-coded woman who likes to eat is invited by her neighbour, a femme acespec woman who loves to cook, to come and eat her food. It starts from a very practical place (when you love making food you need someone to help eat it), but their relationship grows as they spend more time together. The story follows them as they both move towards self-actualization in several ways: as a lesbian, as asexual, at work, with their families, with their friends, with each other. This show is so careful to say the important words aloud. And there is so much delicious cooking! Each episode highlights a particular recipe, and the food porn is real. Do not watch while hungry, but definitely watch. The found famiy vibes in this one one are also immaculate.

She Makes My Heart Flutter (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Younger lesbian friend group tries to help out (slightly) older lesbian bar owner with mixed success. I can't think of a good BL equivalent, The Moment Since feels the closest with its similar bartender/patron romance

What might turn some off: Comedic tone; short runtime; struggles with being closeted

This is a gem of a miniseries about a bar owner and an interior designer who smoulder at one another while an intrepid group of younger bar regulars (including the bar owner's neice) meddle. This series is really cute, solid, and full of sapphics! Once again found family vibes are immaculate (you may sense a theme in my faves). Run don't walk.

Fragrance of the First Flower (Taiwan, 2021, GagaOOLala)

Elevator pitch: Right-person-wrong-time/second chance romance; tonally is a little like We Best Love 2: Fighting Mr. 2nd but with an ambiguous ending.

What might turn you off: Medium heat, second chance romance means they break up once, internalized homophobia, adultery/cheating, at one point there's a creepy dude, child with autism (depicted well), ambiguous ending

At its core this is a story of a woman who can't stop getting in the way of her own happiness. This series is a little more sad than the rest of this rec list but I couldn't not include it because this relationship is so poignant. Plus there's a s2 that supposedly is to come out in 2024 so maybe we'll get our happy ending after all?

Love Greater Than or Equal to 70 Degrees C (Korea, 2019, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Ingredients but with lesbians staring at one another over beautiful tea pairings! What more could you ask for?

What might turn you off: Low heat; short runtime; ambiguous ending; like Ingredients this is essentially a long ad for the café it's filmed at.

This is a Korean miniseries about passionate tea sommeliers making really fancy tea while staring at one another a LOT. Perfect sapphic representation, 10/10 no notes. This one packs a lot of the drama tropes into its short runtime, so even though it's short it's full of butterfly-inspiring moments.

Sleep With Me (Philippines, 2022, GagaOOLala/iWantTFC/Netflix w/VPN set to Philippines)

Elevator pitch: The Truth About Cats and Dogs but the self esteem issues are handled without catfishing. BL equivalent: Hmmm. Closest I can think of is Gaya Sa Pelikula.

What might turn you off: There's some ableism (treated as such) in this show; Open ending.

Stellar GL between a late night radio DJ and an insomniac who listens to her show. One of the main couple is a wheelchair user and the show tackles ablelism and navigating disability in relationship as well as feelings of inadequacy in a relationship and how that manifests as interpersonal conflict.

Our Relationship Ended Before it Began (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Along the lines of I Cannot Reach You; the show gives both perspectives and they are held back by queer angst.

What might turn you off: No kiss (but they make it very clear both want to kiss), internalized homophobia

Really sweet miniseries about having a crush and being afraid of being hurt so you don't actually make a move. I really like the way the girl who has not dated a girl before defaults to gender roles and it throws the more experienced lesbian lol I also really like the way this show makes clear that both of them are waiting for a kiss, and that if you get in your head about things, it can get in the way of your own happiness!

Pearl Next Door (Philippines, 2020, Youtube)

Elevator Pitch: Gameboys but with lesbian vloggers.

What might turn you off: Love triangle, lots of teasing but low heat in the end, a lot of (good) conversations about mental health issues, ambiguous ending

This is the GL spinoff to Gameboys, starring Pearl from Gameboys. Pearl ends up being fought over by the two gorgeous women in the gif, an old love and a new. I love the queer friendships in this story as much as the relationships. I will say it's an open ending (that felt a bit like the showrunners didn't want to decide between ships) and definitely the love triangle features prominently but even in the face of these aspects that would normally turn me off a series I had a good time. The characters and interpersonal conflicts feel very real, and are allowed to be complex even when the show tone is comedic.

Dear Uranus (Taiwan, 2021, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Schoolgirl ensemble GL; a little like My School President but without the singing.

What might turn you off: Short runtime; ambiguous ending; a little bit of bullying; very standard romance trope execution

The first Taiwanese GL miniseries, this series was produced by a Taiwanese lesbian couple (Rabbit & Wolf)! Lots of excellent drama tropes, and incredibly gorgeous women (I think the entire watching audience fell in love with Erol.

Lily Fever (Korea, 2015, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Complete crack; YYY but with more kissing and frankly an even less coherent story.

What might turn you off: The lack of coherent plot; less a romance and more a very thirsty lesbian kissing everyone she can

This miniseries is utter chaos. Nothing really makes sense, it's all just random excuses to cause very suggestive moments (and kissing) to happen. I love so much how this series depicts women being so absolutely thirsty for one another (and yes that date isn't a typo, this series is ~9 years old). Not an "happy ever after" ending but it really isn't that kind of story.

Chasing Sunsets (Philippines, 2020, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Ocean Likes Me with lesbians. Resort romance with a mental health twist.

What might turn you off: Some of the mental health stuff gets intense, this was filmed in 2020 so the pandemic features heavily; hopeful but slightly ambiguous ending.

A complex story from the Philippines covering mental health and finding yourself. A woman shows up to a resort and befriends one of the women running the resort. They get closer as they spend time together, and the resort owner realizes something is off. There's also a BL side couple in this series.

Show Me Love (Thai, 2023, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: A little like My Day the series with lesbians, in that they work together and fall in love and it's full of tropes

What might turn you off: The advertising for the Miss Grand competition, there is some bullying and cheating (though way less than I was expecting tbh), not a lot actually happens, the editing gets a bit wonky at the end

This is essentially a massive ad for the Miss Grand Thailand competition; this GL was produced by the same company that produces that competition, and the stars are mostly Miss Grand competitors. The main pairing were shipped in the actual competition, and the company decided to make a GL about them. It's very slow paced and low-stakes, and there are better kisses than I expected considering everything I just said about where this show came from. There are a lot of cute moments!

Girlfriend Project (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Love Class with lesbians

What might turn you off: One of the leads is kind of mean in that pgitail-pulling way? It ends abruptly (but happily)

This is a short miniseries about two girls paired in a class that are assigned to "date". The chemistry is chemistrying. And there is a kiss (a good kiss, and a tiptoes kiss at that!). This show also has one of my favourite tropes, in which someone who seems like a pushover stands up for themselves and their partner finds it very attractive. For the record, in this show they are watching another GL by the same company, Love Tech.

Lulu (Philippines, 2022, Vivamax/grey)

Elevator Pitch: Present Perfect with lesbians (but with a better ending).

What might turn you off: Depictions of panic attacks, brief depiction of drowning, pandemic lockdowns, illness, exes, waffling, happy but open ending (which I actually liked for this story)

Two women trying to move on from the garbage in their lives meet at the beach of a B&B (where one saves the other from drowning) and become one another's company during their escape and then something more. They both have baggage that seems determined to keep them apart even as they continue to be drawn together. In the end, they decide to stick it out and see where they end up, with no guarantee of happily ever after, which I found very sweet. Requires either a VivaMax account or searching the grey for it, but it's worth the effort (check MyDramaList comments for suggestions on where to find it). Plus one of the leads has a cactus as a pet.

Welcome to the Lesbian Bar (Korea, 2023, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: A little like Fudanshi Bartender but without the fudanshi bartender and all of the bar patrons are lesbians lol

What might turn you off: Short, can get a little bit preachy, abrupt ending

Cute short series with different very stories every episode as different patrons visit the bar. The stories range from women who have been together for awhile, to people meeting from an online app for the first time, to someone visiting a lesbian bar for the first time; and yet the story all weaves together in a way that's satisfying though ends abruptly. Includes some solid marriage equality propaganda.

GAP the Series (Thai, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Kind of the vibes of Together with Me but lesbians and in an office instead of school. Angry boss falls for charming new intern and

What might turn you off: This one is the highest heat of all these recs; homophobia especially amongst family, brief depictions of death by car, brief mentions of suicide, cheating, bullying, abuse of power in the office.

A list would not be complete without this one! Honestly the plot is a bit wobbly but the show is a lot of fun. The girls are very cute, the feelings and tension builds really well between them, the friend group is excellent, and in the special we get a wedding.

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The rest of these have caveats of one kind or another, but i couldn't leave them off a rec list, so here are the side couples and censored stories that are still worth your time anyway (I might do a separate more detailed post for these, as well as for films, one day if there's interest):

Nevertheless (GL side; Korean, 2021, Netflix) Not sure it's worth watching a whole kdrama for side lesbians? Search soljiwan on youtube. They are great. Even the Netflix account stans them. I watched this (ngl, I watched the SolJiwan cut) as it aired and was constantly braced for it to let us down but it did not! A really good friends-to-lovers story.

Friend Zone 2: Dangerous Area (GL side; Thailand, 2019, YouTube): These sapphics are messy and I love them. Decent conversation about dating someone with mental health issues in this series, and they're one of the only couples in this ensemble to get a happy ending. If you're just watching the lesbian couple (which you can, their story is pretty self-contained) you don't need to have seen s1.

Six Survivors (GL side; Japan, 2022, Viki) This show is a horror comedy and it is SO MUCH FUN. Warning for zombies and blood, but way less than you might think. One of the eponymous 6 survivors is a lesbian who keeps trying to convert them to veganism lol. If you watched Chaser Game W you'll recognize one of the actresses in this, the lead actress is from Kamisama no Ekohiiki, and one of the guys is from the prequel series His as well as I Want to See Only You! And yes there is a kiss. Also a surprising number of Mallrats references. Not for people who can't handle gore or relationships being complicated/not a "true love" story/ambiguous ending.

Kamisama no Ekohiiki (complicated question of is it GL in parts, Japan, 2021, furritsubs once again coming through to save the day) This one is a bit complex because there's bodyswap, but the girl who falls for the bodyswapped boy-in-a-girl's-body is clear that she is only interested in the girl. One of the better bodyswap stories because the bodyswap is not a secret for very long, so instead there's a lot of introspection about what gender means and who/what they are attracted to. Feels wrong to call this GL, necessarily, but it's very queer.

Couple of Mirrors (Censored GL, China, 2021, Viki) Story of a rich girl and her assassin girlfriend. This production did an amazing job getting away with what they could, just don't watch the last five minutes and we've got essentially a happy lesbian family.

Legend of Yunze (Censored GL, China, 2021, @douqi7s) Very cute very low budget xianxia miniseries with two seasons and a special. The special is set in modern times in a future lifetime so if you want a cute censored-but-clearly-a-soulmate-love-story this is the one for you. Don't be thrown off by the weird cuts/abrupt episode endings, that's in line with cdramas in general.

Led Astray by Love (Censored GL, China, 2021, @douqi7s) A very fun and adorable isekai story in which a modern day girl is transported to a wuxia novel setting and has to figure out how to get home, and gets romanced by the princess along the way.

And a few additional links for people who even more content:

My Indian sapphic webseries rec list

My suggestions for content with toms (Thai category that's similar to but not exactly the same as butch lesbians) in response to this post.

This really good GL MyDramaList list (not made by me!) lists what seems to be everything I've mentioned and about 200 more. Even I haven't seen a few of these!

My YouTube playlist of sapphic content: This includes anything I stumble across or find in my searches, a lot of music videos and random shorts as well as some microseries and miniseries that I don't consider GL but are WLW/sapphic in addition to true "GL" content. For serialized content, I add just the first ep. A complete mess, but you can trawl through to find stuff to watch, like Hetero!

SOONOTSUE: The same producers of She Makes My Heart Flutter have other short series on their channel worth checking out; if you liked that one, try Out of Breath!

Shakeshoulder: Thai YouTube producers of very pulpy (read: low budget and dramatic plots) shorts

FuFuKnows: This YouTube channel is owned by a gay Taiwanese couple that produces shorts every week, including some with GL mains and sides. These are very low budget but cover a whole swath of queer themes.

@douqi7s is a godsend providing subtitles for all kinds of content, including sapphic shorts and more series than I've listed here. Check their tumblr for links to all of their content; A Practical Guide to Being a Superstar's Assistant has one of the best setups to giving us great moments in the guise of something else so that they get past censorship I've ever seen; I also recommend The Vampires if you're into genre fiction, as well as Legend of Yunqian if you enjoyed the xianxia parts of Legend of Yunze. @wlwcatalogue did an excellent summary of many of the non-wuxia options here.

Quick pitch for the streaming platform GagaOOLala; it's affordable, has a ton of content, including a whack of GLs (originals, license series, and a ton of shorts), and is run by queer people out of Taiwan who care about good quality queer content being made and having an audience, and using the soft power from those successful series to support social change. And if you can't afford a subscription it's worth checking out what they have for free, they open up temporary free access to some things for various events throughout the year.

In searching for gifs for this post I found fellow tumblr user @drowningparty 's WLW compendium list; they've listed more series and films so check it out if you still need more content!

*wipes sweat off brow* that should be enough to be getting on with, but it's really just the tip of the iceberg! If there's something specific you want to see with sapphics let me know and I can tell you if I know it exists. Anyway, I hope this gives you and everyone else a taste of what all is out there! I of course always want more, I am serious about being a sapphic dragon hoarding every crumb i can get my lizardy hands on, but I do think what we have should also be appreciated more. If I missed one of your faves, please tell me!

#gl series #gl recs #sapphic media #media recs #tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #she makes my heart flutter #fragrance of the first flower #love greater than or equal to 70 degrees C #sleep with me the series #our relationship ended before it began #pearl next door #dear uranus #chasing sunsets #show me love #girlfriend project #lulu the series #welcome to the lesbian bar #gap the series #nevertheless the series #friend zone 2: dangerous area #six survivors #kamisama no ekohiiki #couple of mirrors #legend of yunze #led astray by love #lily fever #thank you for the ask! #ask game #long post

[theheightofdishonor]

2023 year in review: part one

It's close enough to the end of the year that i'm writing my year in review. I decided to do a part for shows that actually aired in 2023. (i may or may not do a second part of this for all the shows i've watched this year but even from an initial glance its a LOT, we'll see. )

From what I have noted, I watched 81 shows this year that finished airing in 2023.

Broken down by country, its

Thailand: 35

Korea: 18

China: 10

Japan: 10

Philippines: 4

Taiwan: 4

48 of these were BL and 16 were GL.

Even this is actually so many that I don't quite know how to even break it down so I guess i'll just go by country?

Thailand

Thailand just has such a large output of content that naturally, the quality also tends to vary wildly meaning this produced both some of my absolute favorites and some of my most beloved.

On the beloved side, Bed Friend, IFYLITA, Moonlight chicken,My school president, and surprisingly Midnight Museum. And on a slightly lower tier, Be My Favorite, Dirty Laundry, Enigma, Shadow, Only Friends, and Warp Effect.

Bed Friend reminded me almost of Tharntype? But like good. I think the execution was great and NetJames definitely has some of the best chemistry in a year chock full of good chemistry. They're great in Middleman's Love too.

I Feel You Linger In the Air is Tee Bundit at his absolute best. He's great at blending genres together. He incorporated horror brilliantly into simr and I love how he leaned into the historical and time travel aspects of this historical time travel romance. There was some really cool things with the directing and the acting from Nonkul and Bright was great too. Me finding out Nonkul was doing a bl was probably how everyone else reacted back when news broke that Nanon was doing BBS. He's one of my favorite actors.

Moonlight Chicken ofc is near perfect. I loved seeing older queer people in a romance with Jim and Wen and the contrast to Li Ming and Heart was great. Not to mention the family and social dynamics and the way the show addresses Beam and Jim's relationship. The only complaint I have is that the lack of physical intimacy between Jim and Wen in the middle portions of the show and near the end felt weird considering the content of the show but even then, it's a pretty minor complaint and everything else about the show is great.

My School President is definitely the one I was most engaged in fandom for. And the only one I was waking up early every morning to watch. (and i'd watch each episode like 2-3 times too). The social media/shipping stuff at the end was fumbled a little bit but I loved the parents in this show and the friend group and tinngun. I still can't believe Fourth and Gemini were like 17-18 when they filmed this. They're both excellent actors. Oh MSP also had the best Our Skyy episodes btw. I'll die on this hill.

Midnight Museum I'll discuss later on too but it was fun. I liked how intentional they were with the cameos where it purposefully gave the actors roles that were completely different from anything they've done before, especially with Tu, Bright, and Nanon. The worldbuilding was also fascinating. I know someone here was making a timeline for it and they mentioned it was a damn pain to figure out but like kinda in a fun way? The decision to make KathaDome a bromance is odd and I hate it and I hate the implications for gmmtv but other than that it was good.

Be My favorite was way better than I ever expected from Jittirain. I do have to say that my experience was marred by the fact that I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, just from my experience with her shows but it didn't which was a pleasant surprise. I liked how they handled Aye's character and Kawi's growth.

I didn't think I'd like Enigma because I don't like Win but it was good. The supernatural/horror genre mix won me over. Also Prim is in this and i'm very weak for her. Win was nowhere on her level but he was more tolerable than I expected. I'm annoyed that she's not going to be in season 2 though because she's the main character?? GMMTV needs to understand that the draw of this show is Prim and not Win.

Only Friends. What a divisive show. I went into this wanting mess and drama and with the aim of not having any other expectations and for the most part, I succeeded. This show brought out the best from everyone in the cast, like genuinely these were some of the best performances that any of these actors have done. Absolutely stellar. Storywise, it was pretty good and very unique in terms of thai bl and gmmtv until that last bit with Boston and Nick which felt malicious and just mean compared to the neutral lens that the show had been portraying the other characters with. Watching it was pretty fun though and again, most of the story was really good so I guess i'm allowing it some grace.

Shadow isn't a bl but it is queer and I appreciated most of what it was doing with the historical horror suspense elements. I think towards the end it definitely was way shakier and I don't understand why they made some of the decisions they made but I really liked the first 3/4 of the show. Fluke and Singto are obviously good too, even though they're both way too old at this point to still be playing high schoolers.

The Warp Effect had the distinct vibe of a PSA and Gigie and Fah should've dated but otherwise, it was a fun watch, I think. I liked Alex's character arc, I liked everyone's character arcs honestly. On my notes, I wrote that the ending was a bit flat so points off for that but it was good.

A lot of these are from GMMTV which when it was good, was incredible and when it was bad, I usually was decent at avoiding them completely

The worst offender from Thailand that I didn't avoid is Tee Bundit with the double hit of Step by Step and Show Me Love. I think people far more eloquent than me have written a lot about sbs so I won't say much but like I almost refrained from watching IFYLITA because of how hurt I was by sbs. And Show Me Love was just like offensively mediocre which hit worse at the time because I had just watched Something In My Room and IFYLITA beforehand and made the mistake of having expectations from Tee. In my defense, Tee's usually good at writing engaging characters and casting for good chemistry so I had no reason to believe he'd fail here.

Hmm what else. Oh actually, brief mention of Nanon's filmography this year since I checked out all of it and he tends to be so good even in mediocre shows that I can't help but be intrigued.

Hmm what else. Oh actually, brief mention of Nanon's filmography this year since I checked out all of it and he tends to be so good even in mediocre shows that I can't help but be intrigued. Dirty Laundry by JoJo was excellent. It was a little hard to get into because i'm not a fan of the genre but i loved it. Also Film and Nanon are a fun pair and I think they get better with every showing. UMG actually was mediocre despite the great cast and I want better from Nanon so I dropped it. Namtam and Milk's characters should lowkey have gotten together though. In Midnight Museum, Nanon's a side character (which i honestly forgot was something gmmtv let him do) but he fucking KILLED it. He played three roles here and all of them were new for him and you could tell the guy was having a blast. I can't say it's some of the best acting I've seen from him but that's only because when Nanon is good, he's always this good. Oh and also, Nanon and View in MM is the best chemistry he's ever had with a girl. Our Skyy, there's not a lot I'm willing to say publicly about all that but Nanon even at half-effort is still better than half of GMMTV's stable. The Jungle was a terrible mess but Nanon was so excellent in it that i'm still writing essays about Nannam and Nanfah months later. Nanon and Mild as a pair were also excellent and the only ones that made it out of this show unscathed. The rest as I said, is a mess but one that could've been somewhat redeemed by making Mix a vampire. (this might not make sense but like watch Mix's performance alright he's trying sooo hard to be shady and mysterious and they never let it go anywhere) My precious was a fairly run of the mill movie with excellent acting. As a plot I think it's a little thin for a show but i'm interested to see how they'll stretch it out. Hopefully the longer runtime means the friend group can be fleshed out a little bit more.

Korea

Well that ended up not being all that brief but moving on, I thought Korea would have more on a showing because I remembered watching a lot of kdramas but turns out most of the kdramas I watched were from previous years so, only 18. A very dramatic drop from Thailand's 35.

The best of these included The Eighth Sense, Our Dating Sim, and Welcome to the Lesbian Bar with Sing My Crush being ever so slightly underneath. I would rec Lesbian Bar to literally everyone, but especially those who enjoyed MLC. It's got that same queer family focus with the central relationship being this baby lesbian and her lesbian aunt. Out of the not queer stuff, My Perfect Stranger was an excellent time travel romance, The Glory Season 2 was better than all the other season twos that came out this year, and

If Korea produced anything too egregious this year (outside of Taxi Driver and Uncanny Counter's season 2s) I missed it. But out of the ones I watched, the most disappointing was A Shoulder To Cry On, followed rather distantly by Bump Up Business, both for very different reasons. I will say though that whatever is wrong with Tae Hyun in A Shoulder To Cry On is very appealing to me in the same way that Tae Joo from Where Your Eyes Linger was except like a weaker version.

China

I once thought i'd never touch a cdrama again but here I am, having watched 3 whole traditional length cdramas this year. The other 7 are almost all from the Legend of Yunze's catalog because I love their content. The best by leaps and bounds was Nu Er Hong by Legend of Yunze. I think it's my favorite out of everything they've made. The studio's really started to figure out their pacing and also this one was fairly dark and dark gl- dark anything really- is right up my alley. A flower for 3 lives and Seven Gods of Joy by the same studio had great concepts but shakier execution. Stepping outside of them, A league of noblemen was probably my favorite traditional cdrama but Mysterious Lotus Casebook was fun fandom-wise since people on tumblr were watching it.

I think the only show i'd classify as bad is probably My everlasting bride which I watched on a whim. Under a miscroscope started good and then ended boring so overall averages into mediocre. This wouldn't be a crime anywhere else but I expect good pacing from my cdramas.

Japan

I liked pretty much everything I watched from Japan this year so imma go with my worst off which was Jack O' Frost. This is more on me than on the show itself because the concept just squicked me out a lot more than I expected it to. Badly enough that i've blocked the tag.

On the best of, I don't even know if I can choose. Hmm, Bokura no micro na shuumatsu, Kimi ni wa todokanai, Kinou nani tabeta s2, both the My Beauitful Man installments, and Taikan Yoho. Ahhh, and Tokyo in April is... Welp well turns out I couldn't actually choose. This was pretty much everything I watched.

I didn't think I'd like Bokura no as much as I ended up liking it. And I don't know if I would've liked it as much if any other country had produced this show. But it was achy and wistful and I fell in love;.

Kimi ni wa todokanai though was hands down my favorite from Japan and I don't even like friends to lovers. It also helped that they, mostly Yamato reminded me a bit of Kageyama and Hinata. Like I know it's just common character archetypes but also, it's kagehina core, yeah? The bed scene where Yamato yeets Kakeru onto the bed was both hilarious and just well done. I liked the way Yamato wrestled with his desire.

I watched Kinou Nani Tabeta s2 just a couple days ago since I was waiting to binge it and i'm glad I wasn't watching this weekly because it would make everything else I watch weekly dull in comparison. Honestly would watch 100 seasons of this. It's perfect.

My Beautiful Man S2 and My Beautiful Man: Eternal were both solid. I think mbm s1 had tighter pacing but week to week, I enjoyed s2 more. For some reason I didn't write notes for either but I do remember liking both so.

Taikan Yoho. If not for the kghn vibes from kimi ni wa, this would be my favorite. Like their dynamic and just the layers of it and how it presents itself in the language of the show is just so tailored to my taste. I think I wanted just a little bit more from them, but what I got was excellent.

Philippines

I only watched four and somehow, it's perfectly split into 2 gls and 2 bls. I really do like pinoy stuff and the way they write relationships but I don't watch a lot of it because I don't know a lot of people who track it and also because most of it is on yt and i don't like the yt interface. But out of what I watched, the best was The Day I Loved You and Stand-In Love.

The Day I Loved You did a good job in handling the love triangle and Eli's illness. I'm not sure how I feel about the ending but it was still good.

Stand-In Love is about 2 best friends who are in a 'stand-in' relationship with each other where the straight one is helping the lesbian one learn how to court a girl but then they end up falling in love. It's like 20 minutes long, it's fucking adorable, very well done for the amount of time it had.

The other two things I watched was Tie the Not and Lei and Mar. Tie the Not is basically just pinoy Wedding Plan and I find that I don't care for the concept. Lei and Mar is a cute friends to lovers that for some reason ends in a car crash. Like it started out really cute and then bam, car crash out of absolutely nowhere. Just, why?

Taiwan

Kiseki: Dear to Me was fun and I liked the cameos. It was a funny experience for me though because I consumed a lot of this show via gifsets but I never actually read the synopsis and whatever the hell I thought this was about was decidedly not it.

Fall For You - it's tragic, it is but I laughed

Stay By My Side reminded me a bit of Hikaru No Go but I can't tell you why. It's more cute domestic fluff than plot but I watched it twice so clearly I didn't mind too much at the time. Plus, it has ghosts and i'm a sucker for supernatural stuff.

You are mine was a mess and I think I watched up til the penultimate episode. What is it with office bls this year?

#the real reason this is divided the way it is is because or else id only be talking about simr and girls love #idk how to tag because i certainly am not tagging all damn 81 things #thai ql #dramas #year in review #ill tag some of the shows i suppose just cuz idk what to tag #my school president #i feel you linger in the air #welcome to the lesbian bar #shadow the series #only friends the series #a shoulder to cry on #stay by my side #the day i loved you #be my favorite #nanon korapat

[profiterole-reads]

Welcome to the Lesbian Bar

The GL k-drama Welcome to the Lesbian Bar was lovely! In each episode, 2 customers come have a drink and chat with the owner. Their stories are intertwined.

While the premise is similar to She Makes My Heart Flutter, this show manages to have a very different style. You can definitely watch both without it feeling repetitive.

There are 5 episodes of 6 minutes, so it's super short. It's available legally and for free on YouTube.

#welcome to the lesbian bar #lgbt tv shows #wlw #f/f #contemporary

[tartt9]

hello gay people in my laptop how are we all doing tonight

#idk if any of my followers are 100% straight and if you are don't tell me #i went to the lesbian bar tonight this is a gays only space go home #(this is a joke if you're straight you're welcome here) #i am just Not Entirely Sober

[woohooincoffin]

if i was a braver person id got to queer bar or something

#but also i also feel like i would be intruding if i went to a lesbian bar #like yes im bi and like women etc but i don’t know if that is a space i would be welcomed in or would it be like me invading a space that’s #not for me #i dont know #and i don’t mean this in a bad way im genuinely confused because i wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable #and also im not a girl #so like???? #like yes most of the time i present very feminine i like dressing very girly i guess i like looking cute and put together #but I’m not a girl so like idk!!! im confused!!) #and i alsp don’t have any queer friends!!! like i know no one who i could go with or have fun or anytning

[farmlesbians]

have you ever been to cubbyhole is it fun what are the vibes. asking for a friend

i have been to cubbyhole! its chill the last time i went i met some nice ppl and was fun but sometimes the music is ass and the song queue on the touch tunes is like. crazy long … also like every time someone i know goes there someone in their group gets covid so do with that what u will ….. but it can be a good time and its nice to walk around the west village after u leave :)

#also its cash only!!! i didn’t know that the first time i went and they have an atm in there but it prob has fees and stuff #the last time i went someone queued welcome to the black parade and king for a day which was. Fun for me and nobody else #but also u will get like 8 shawn mendes/camila cabello/ed sheeran songs back to back and its hell #its the only lesbian bar ive been to in nyc bc i dont wanna pay the henrietta cover and im not going out on a WEDNESDAY and i just havent #made it out to gingers yet #the woods isnt even a lesbian bar but im still 😭 also i heard its messy

[professionaljester]

hello

#abc shut it #welcome to my roman themed lesbian bar

[ralfmaximus]

the widely criticized practice is aimed at encouraging gay or lesbian minors to change their sexual orientation and transgender children to identify as the gender identity assigned to them at birth. Washington is one of 26 states have barred or restricted such therapy for minors, the state’s lawyers say.

The court’s decision not to take up the case means the [ban] remains intact.

Major win for transgender kids and their families, as Washington State's ban on conversion therapy is affirmed by SCOTUS. This ruling protects similar bans in 25 other states too.

A surprising but welcome result from these conservative jackasses.

#finally some good fucking news #scotus #december 11 2023

[genderkoolaid]

Examples of transandrophobia: i've seen sections of Leslie Feinberg's piece "Sisterhood: Make it Real" passed around this site for literally years, and TODAY was the first time that I saw the whole thing and learned that ze called out cisfeminists in it for getting rid of trans men the second they started transitioning. Like I always thought it was a good piece but I had literally NO IDEA that it talked about trans men because that part was never included in posts about it, even when those posts were calling out cisfeminism for being transphobic. I'm just gobsmacked tbh

This is a great point!

Honestly more people need to read that full chapter. There's a lot of really good points.

Amongst other things, Leslie talks about how "women good men bad" is poor feminism:

Of course, as a result of the oppression women face growing up in such a violently anti-woman environment, some women draw a line between women as allies and men as enemies. While it’s understandable that an individual might do so out of fear, this approach fails as theory. It lumps John Brown and John D. Rockefeller together as enemies and Sojourner Truth and Margaret Thatcher together as allies. This view of who to trust and who to dread will not keep women safe or keep the movement on course.

How feminine men are victims of gender oppression:

The oppression of feminine men is an important one to me, since I consider drag queens to be my sisters. I’ve heard women criticize drag queens for “mocking women’s oppression” by imitating femininity to an extreme, just as I’ve been told that I am imitating men. Feminists are justifiably angry at women’s oppression - so am I! I believe, however, that those who denounce drag queens aim their criticism at the wrong people. This misunderstanding doesn’t take gender oppression into account. For instance, to criticize male-to-female drag performers, but leave out a discussion of gender oppression, lumps drag queen RuPaul together with men like actor John Wayne! RuPaul is a victim of gender oppression, as well as of racism.

How masculine women are assumed to know less about gender oppression:

But I grew up very masculine, so the complex and powerful set of skills that feminine girls developed to walk safely through the world were useless to me. I had to learn a very different set of skills, many of them martial. While we both grew up as girls, our experiences were dissimilar because our gender expressions were very different. Masculine girls and women face terrible condemnation and brutality including sexual violence - for crossing the boundary of what is “acceptable” female expression. But masculine women are not assumed to have a very high consciousness about fighting women’s oppression, since we are thought to be imitating men.

And as you said, how trans men deserve access to women's and lesbian's spaces without having their transmasculinity ignored or seen as being butch-in-denial:

And our female-to-male transsexual brothers have a right to feel welcome at women’s movement events or lesbian bars. However, that shouldn’t feed into to misconception that all female-to-male transsexuals were butches who just couldn’t deal with their oppression as lesbians. If that were true, then why does a large percentage of post-transition transsexual men identify as gay and bisexual, which may have placed them in a heterosexual or bisexual status before their transition? There are transsexual men who did help build the women’s and lesbian communities, and still have a large base of friends there. They should enjoy the support of women on their journey. Doesn’t everyone want their friends around them at a time of great change? And women could learn a great deal about what it means to be a man or a woman from sharing the lessons of transition.

Not that "trans women belong in feminism" wouldn't be a good point on its own, but people's selectivity with which parts of that chapter they share definitely warrant scrutiny.

#m. #ask box

[xtra7s]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 ──── 𝘓𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Leighton decides to go to a party with her roommates after coming out to them, and decides to test her luck with a girl by the bar.

Content: Leighton Murray x gn!reader, fingering, thigh riding, alcohol, Leighton def kept her heels on

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist

Leighton Murray nervously adjusted her dress as she entered the lively frat party with her roommates, the pulsating music and laughter echoing through the air. Being a closeted lesbian in college had its challenges, but tonight, Leighton decided to step out of her comfort zone. She had just come out to her roommates, and the energy in the room was contagious. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could find a connection that would make her college experience a little less complicated.

As she navigated through the crowd, Leighton spotted a figure standing near the makeshift bar, seemingly observing the chaotic dance floor. Y/N, with a welcoming smile, caught Leighton's eye. Y/N's presence was magnetic, and Leighton felt a flutter in her chest.

Leighton took a deep breath, determined to embrace the spontaneity of the night. She approached Y/N with a false confident smile, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hey, I'm Leighton," she greeted, grabbing a cup while trying to sound casual despite her nerves.

Y/N turned to face her, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared connection. "Hey, Leighton. I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, I'd offer you a drink but you don't look like the type of girl to drink shitty liquor." they replied, a grin playing on their lips as their eyes travel down Leighton's body.

"Can't be too picky in college. Although I do prefer Glenfarclas, I'll take what I can get." Leighton replied with a matching grin, widening it as she watched the look of confusion on Y/N's face.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between the two. Leighton discovered that Y/N loved indie music and had a passion for photography. As they laughed and chatted, Leighton couldn't help but feel a growing connection with Y/N.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere became more electric, and the decision to venture onto the dance floor was inevitable. Y/N, sensing Leighton's hesitation, gently took her hand, pulling her into the pulsating crowd. The colorful lights illuminated their faces as they danced, the music creating a rhythmic backdrop to their growing connection.

In the midst of the chaos, Leighton found solace in the shared laughter and subtle touches. Y/N's hand in hers felt comforting, and the chemistry between them became undeniable. Leighton realized that this unexpected connection was a breath of fresh air, a chance to be herself without the weight of secrecy.

But then came the looks, the amount of men staring at them, it made Leighton's skin crawl.

Leighton pulled them away from the dance floor, seeking a quieter spot to catch her breath. Leighton's heart raced as she looked into Y/N's eyes, feeling a magnetic pull. Y/N, smiling at Leighton's vulnerability, reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face.

Leighton hesitated for a moment, then leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a soft and lingering kiss. It felt like the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them in that quiet corner of the frat party. For Leighton, it was a liberating moment, a step towards embracing her true self.

Y/N smiled, their eyes reflecting understanding and acceptance. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Leighton," they whispered.

Leighton and Y/N, lost in the magnetic pull between them, continued their passionate kiss. The sounds of the party faded into the background as they embraced the warmth and intensity of the moment. Y/N's hands grasped Leighton's waist, their fingertips tracing the contour of her skin.

Leighton's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The taste of Y/N's lips was intoxicating, and she found herself surrendering to the euphoria of the connection they were building. Y/N's other hand found its way to the small of Leighton's back, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together in an electrifying dance.

The world around them seemed to disappear as they explored the depth of their desire. Leighton's hands rested on Y/N's shoulders, fingers lightly running through the strands of their hair. The air between them crackled with newfound energy, and the quiet corner they had found became an intimate sanctuary.

As they broke the kiss, Leighton's breath caught, and her eyes locked onto Y/N's. A shared understanding passed between them — a recognition of something special unfolding. Y/N's gaze held a mix of tenderness and desire, encouraging Leighton to let go of the inhibitions that had held her back.

Y/N's fingers traced gentle patterns along Leighton's spine, sending shivers down her body.

"You wanna head back to my dorm?" Leighton asked with a sly smile, Y/Ns face matching hers as they nodded.

___

The night air was crisp as Leighton and Y/N left the vibrant energy of the frat party behind. They walked hand in hand across the campus, the quietness providing a welcome contrast to the lively chaos they had just experienced. The journey to Leighton's dorm was filled with shared laughter and stolen glances, the connection between them growing stronger with each step.

Upon reaching Leighton's dorm, the anticipation hung in the air. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated their faces as Leighton fumbled with her keys, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She unlocks her dorm door with a giggle, her mood slightly affected by the alcohol she drank previously. She turned to Y/N, their eyes locking in a silent understanding.

Y/N's hand cupped Leighton's cheek, their touch sending a comforting wave through her. "Thank you for tonight," Y/N whispered, their breath hot against Leighton's face.

Leighton smiled, a mixture of gratitude and affection in her gaze. "No, thank you," she replied, feeling a warmth spreading within her.

As they entered Leighton's dorm, the door clicking shut behind them, the atmosphere changed. The space became an intimate cocoon where the outside world ceased to matter. Leighton turned to face Y/N, their eyes meeting in silent agreement. In that moment, the unspoken connection reached a new level of intimacy.

Without a word, Y/N gently tilted Leighton's chin upward, their lips meeting in a soft and tender kiss. It was a continuation of the magnetic energy that had drawn them together throughout the night. Leighton's heart raced as the kiss deepened, the warmth and reassurance of Y/N's touch melting away any lingering reservations.

Y/N pulled Leighton's body backward, dropping to sit on the couch without breaking the kiss with Leighton.

They broke the kiss, a shared smile passing between them. The air was charged with anticipation as Y/N whispered, "Is this okay?", bringing their hands up to tug gently on Leighton's dress.

their bodies were already responding to each other's touch, and Leighton nodded as she leaned closer, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Their tongues tangled together hungrily, exploring each other's mouths as if they had been waiting for this moment forever. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, caressing and groping with equal intensity. Leighton's dress came off first, revealing her thick thighs and breasts, her nipples erect from the cold weather. Y/N followed suit, pulling off their clothing to match Leighton's naked body.

Y/N pulled Leighton down onto their lap, her straddling one of Y/N's thighs. She kisses them gently, leading her kisses down Y/Ns neck as she grinds her wet folds against their thigh.

Y/N holds onto Leighton's hips tightly, their nails digging into her skin. Leighton reached between them, her fingers finding Y/N's sensitive spot and massaging it vigorously. "That feels so good," Y/N moaned, their voice hoarse with desire as they helped Leighton reach her orgasm on their thigh.

"I know," Leighton panted back, her breath hot against Y/N's neck. "Tell me you want more."

"I do... I need more Leight," Y/N confessed, their hips bucking wildly, Leighton pushing a finger inside of Y/N. The couch creaked under their combined weight as they rode each other harder and faster, sweat covering both of their bodies in a sticky film.

Their breasts hit against each other's, nipples rubbing against nipples in sync with their rhythmic movements. Their moans muffled against each other's necks and shoulders, echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. Leighton's fingers continued to tease Y/N's G-spot relentlessly, pushing them closer to releasing.

Y/N's hands grabbed onto Leighton's ass, squeezing them firmly before slapping them lightly. The stinging followed by the coolness of the air on her bare bottom made Leighton moan even louder, getting closer as she kissed and bit Y/Ns neck.

Leighton's own orgasm was building rapidly, her humping Y/N's thigh hastily. "I'm... I'm close," she whimpered, her voice strained with pleasure.

"Me too," Y/N panted back, their hips picking up the pace, helping Leighton ride them and Leighton's fingers going deeper inside of Y/N. The combined sounds of their heavy breathing and moans reverberated throughout the room, creating a sensual symphony that heightened their arousal even further.

With their hips buckling one more time, Y/N cried out, their body tensing up as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over them. Their climax seemed to last forever, their body shaking as Leighton helped her ride out the high. When it finally subsided, both girls were panting heavily, their bodies covered in sweat and fluids.

Collapsing onto the couch, they stayed intertwined for several minutes, catching their breath and savoring the post-coital bliss. Their hearts were racing wildly in sync, their breathing gradually returning to normal.

Leighton's dorm room felt like a haven of intimacy as she and Y/N laid there, their fingers entwined. The soft glow of a lamp cast a warm light across the room, creating a cozy atmosphere. With unspoken understanding, Leighton gestured towards her room, an invitation in her eyes.

"Would you like to stay?" Leighton asked, her voice a gentle whisper that hung in the air.

Y/N nodded, a genuine smile playing on their lips. "I'd love to."

They moved towards the bedroom, the tension in the room shifting from the excitement of the night to a quieter, more tender energy. Leighton opened the door and sat on her bed, pulling back the covers, to reveal the inviting space where their connection would deepen.

As they settled into the bed, Leighton couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Y/N mirrored her emotions, their eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability. The unspoken understanding between them was a comforting presence, allowing Leighton to be herself without the weight of pretense.

Y/N lay down beside Leighton, the soft comforter enveloping them. The warmth of the room and the lingering connection from the night created a sense of serenity. Leighton turned towards Y/N, their eyes meeting in the dim light.

Without a word, they leaned in, sharing a gentle kiss that conveyed a depth of emotion words couldn't capture. It was a tender acknowledgment of the connection they had discovered, and a promise of the intimacy that would unfold as they navigated this newfound chapter together.

As they settled into each other's arms, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing and the quiet whispers of the night. Leighton closed her eyes, feeling a sense of peace she hadn't known before. Y/N's presence beside her brought comfort and acceptance, creating a safe space where Leighton could let go of the walls she had built around her heart.

In the embrace of the bed, they fell asleep quickly with their limbs entwined. The night became a canvas for a shared journey, a journey that went beyond the confines of a college dorm room. As sleep embraced them, Leighton and Y/N found solace in each other's arms, the promise of a new day and a deeper connection awaiting them when the morning sun kissed the horizon.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray #the sex lives of college girls #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls #regina george x reader #regina george #help I’m gay #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 2

~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~

~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~

~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~

~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~

~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~

~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

~ Part 1 ~

________________

One night.  

One perfect night.  

That’s all it took.  

One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.  

One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.  

A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.  

It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since. 

It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.  

It's not that you haven’t tried.  

You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.  

A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right? 

It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.  

You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.  

You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.  

Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you. 

You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.  

Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.  

It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.  

It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.  

That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ﾠﾠ

Until she wasn’t, of course.  

Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ﾠﾠ

You knew even then that you should have.  

It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ﾠ

She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.  

She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.  

She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.  

She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.  

It was just one night.  

It was one perfect night.  

________________

Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.  

You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.   

It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.  

You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.  

She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.  

She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.  

Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.  

Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.  

It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.  

She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.  

Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.  

You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.  

“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.  

“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.  

She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.  

“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.  

It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.  

“What?” 

Oh ..maybe she is! 

That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.  

“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?” 

“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?” 

“Do you find every woman attractive?” 

“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?” 

“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?” 

“No. Not once. Why?” 

“Never ever?” 

“Y/N!” 

“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.  

“About women?” She queries. 

“About ..why women. What it is about them.” 

“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.  

You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.  

“Stop doing that!” 

“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.

She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!” 

“I need your help.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.  

You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.  

“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.  

It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.  

You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.  

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.  

“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.  

“Nothing. I was just—” 

“Thinking about women?” 

“No!”  

It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.  

The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ﾠﾠ

“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.  

This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.  

“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.  

You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.  

“Why? For a man?” 

“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.” 

“..and ..was it?” 

“Mhmm.” 

She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.  

It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.  

You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”  

Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.   

You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.  

You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.  

You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.  

There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.  

“Y/N?”  

You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.  

No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.  

“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?” 

See what I mean? What the hell?  

That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.  

Did you?  

She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.  

It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!  

Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.  

It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.  

“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.  

“Yeah.” 

“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?” 

“..we broke up.” 

Shit. She would make this all about herself.  

You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not. You never liked her.” 

“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.  

“I am fine ..I broke up with her.” 

“Well, thank fuck for that!” 

“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!” 

“She was horrible!” 

“You could’ve said.” 

“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.” 

“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?” 

The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Where are you going in Spain?” 

“Barcelona.” 

“Why?” 

“Football.” 

“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.” 

“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.” 

“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.” 

“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.  

Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.  

You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.  

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.  

“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”  

“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.” 

“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.” 

“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.  

She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.  

If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.  

It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.  

What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.  

You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.  

So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  

Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.  

But what if it’s a sign? 

Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.  

Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.  

“The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.  

“You’re still going with that?” 

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.” 

“I hadn’t met her before.” 

“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.  

“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.” 

“I don’t mind doing that.” 

“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.  

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.  

You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh. 

What’s the worst that can happen?  

She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.  

You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.  

Mm.  

It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.  

“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”  

She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.  

“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.” 

“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages  

“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.” 

________________

Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects. 

She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.  

There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.  

That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.  

Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.  

You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.  

She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.  

You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.  

So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.  

Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.  

You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.  

It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.  

A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.  

A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.  

Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.  

You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.  

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.

Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.  

You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.  

You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.  

It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.

She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.  

She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.  

She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.  

“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.

That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ﾠ

You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.  

“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.  

You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.  

Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.  

It’s her. It has to be her.  

The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.  

You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.  

You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.  

There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.  

“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.  

“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.  

“….Hi.” 

“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.  

You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.  

It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.  

It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.  

“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.” 

“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?” 

“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.” 

There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.  

“What are you doing here?” She questions.  

“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.  

“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face. 

There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”

She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.  

“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.” 

She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.  

You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare? 

There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.  

You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.  

“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.  

“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.  

No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.

“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?” 

“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.” 

It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.  

“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?” You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.

She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.  

It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.  

“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.  

You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.  

She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.  

Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.  

It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.  

Alexia. 

It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again. 

“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.  

She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.  

You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it. 

“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.  

There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.  

You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.  

She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else? 

You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.  

The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.  

You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.

“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.  

“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.” 

“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.  

“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.” 

You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.  

So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.  

“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?” 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?” 

“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”  

“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.  

“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.” 

It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.  

She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.  

“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”  

“Uh oh!” 

“What?” 

“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.

“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..” 

“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.” 

“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!” 

“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.” 

“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!” 

“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?” 

“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.” 

She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.  

“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.  

“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.” 

It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.  

“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”

“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.  

“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.

She really is very curious.  

She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.  

They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.  

“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?” 

“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.  

“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?” 

“Hm?” 

“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—” 

“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.  

“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”   

It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.  

“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.  

“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“ 

It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.

It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.

It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.  

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.  

“I really missed you too.” 

Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other. 

It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.  

She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit! 

She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.  

You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.

Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.

Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.

There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.  

You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.  

It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.  

You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.

Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.

Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.

Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.

She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head. 

“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.” 

“Just don’t let her burn it!”  

“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!” 

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.

You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.” 

“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”  

“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”

It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.

"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."

"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.

It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.

It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.  

You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.

________________

Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.  

There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.  

It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.   

You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her. 

Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.  

“Long day?” You ask. 

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?” 

“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm. 

She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.  

“I was given it.” 

“By?” 

“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.  

“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.” 

That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.  

“What do you mean?” 

“Going for the best player on the team.” 

That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.  

“..What do you mean?” 

“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”   

Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible. 

Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.  

No.  

She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you. 

Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.  

“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.  

“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.  

“Who is Alexia Putellas?” 

She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.  

“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.” 

You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.  

Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.  

She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.  

Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.  

She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.  

She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.  

She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.  

Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.  

You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.  

She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele. 

Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.  

Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.  

She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.  

So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.  

It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.

She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.

She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.  

Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.  

She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all. 

“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.  

“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.  

“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”  

She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.  

You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.  

She really is absolutely everything.  

“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!” 

“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.  

“You can’t wear it!” 

“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.” 

“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?” 

“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.” 

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

[olive-fics]

An Old friend.

Synopsis: After not seeing Abby for nearly 5 years, she suddenly comes back into your life like it was nothing.

Men DNI, Mature readers only, reposts are especially welcomed!, Not proof read lol

SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH A CLICK. https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　 　

The notification on your phone was just another blip in the background of your busy life. Work, deadlines, and the relentless march of time had pushed a lot of things into the recesses of your memory — including Abby Anderson.

The relentless flow of people outside in the streets and sidewalks caught your eye as you watched from above in your little cubical. . Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by another notification, this time from a friend, Ellie Williams.

You had met Ellie back in middle school, both of you were little nerds obsessed with savage starlight and music so you two instantly clicked.

"Wanna grab drinks after work? It'll be fun, pus it's a small break from work for you."

of course.

"Idk. . Who else is going? You bringing your 3rd girlfriend of the month with or something?"

"haha Y/N. Just us tonight, maybe we can find you a little girlfriend.."

"Ellie be so fr rn."

"ok ok. but just saying, If there's a hot lesbian there, I'm giving her your number."

"I swear to god.."

The post-Abby relationship had proven to be more challenging than you initially thought. Since the breakup and her abrupt move away, you hadn't gone into any other serious relationships. Sure, you engaged in casual conversations with a few people, but nothing seemed to progress beyond the talking stage.

Your friend Ellie was quite the opposite of you. Ellie is a party enthusiast, a self-proclaimed player, and a lesbian with unapologetic masculine energy. You never really understood how you two clicked.

Waiting for the clock at work to finally strike 5, signaling the end of the day, you finally get to go home. With a sigh, you scanned your closet, hoping to find something not so eye catching, you're just there for some drinks with Ellie. Plus.

You're probably going to be the one needing to carry her home later..

.

Throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a small work logo on it, you head out to the bar.

Ellie: "Y/N! Look at youuu! Finally out of the house.." Y/N:"Yeah yeahh.." Ellie:"Come- I already bought us a drink- then lets go dance."

You sighed, the corners of your lips turning up in a laugh as you joined Ellie.

.

Ellie: "So , Y/N. What's been happening in your mysterious world lately?"

Y/N: "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, school, a bit of Netflix.."

Ellie: "Of course.. So, anyone special in your life these days?"

Y/N: "Not really, just the usual talking stages. And you, Ellie? Still breaking hearts?"

Ellie: "Ah, you know me too well." .

The night had carried on, a blur of clinking glasses, casual conversations, and a soundtrack of questionable music.

Eventually, Ellie had to use the restroom, leaving you left by the drinks alone.

Feeling the effects of the drinks, you couldn't help but feel the buzz that had settled in. It had been a while since you let loose and allowed yourself to be carried away by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, and Ellie's horrible dad jokes.

As you searched through the crowd to find Ellie after noticing she disappeared that's when you heard it.

CLANK!

Before you could react you felt a rough hand grab yours and pull you up gently. Startled, you looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had inadvertently collided with you. Their eyes, filled with concern, met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Why did she look so familiar..?

Suddenly snapping you out of your questioning they finally spoke.

"Are you okay?" they asked, their voice tinged with genuine worry.

Caught off guard you nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over you.

With a grateful smile, you huffed out a; "I'm fine, thank you. Just got a little lost in the crowd."

You then looked down at your shirt, it was stained red from the strawberry cocktail in her hands.

"Great.." you muttered under your breath, a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Let me buy you another drink to make up for it,"..

Caught in a moment of indecision, you looked up at the girl who had inadvertently stained your shirt.. Your thoughts shifted back to where you and Ellie had been seated for the night. You couldn't just leave Ellie, but the genuine offer of another drink lingered in the air, creating a little dilemma.

"Um, I appreciate the offer, really, but I'm actually here with a friend," you explained, trying to not seem rude.

The girl nodded understandingly, "No worries. I didn't mean to intrude on your night. If your friend is around, maybe we can all grab a drink together?"

You shrugged and nodded, why not?

She had noticed the stain worsening and quickly offered, "Could I at least help you wash that out? I'd hate to ruin your shirt completely..."

You looked down at the stain, and you couldn't deny it was pretty bad.

"Well, it's a unique fashion statement now, I guess,"

She laughed and gently took your hand. "Follow me."

You both went into the restrooms, you propped yourself on top of the sink. The girl then grabbed a Wad of paper towels and ran them under cold water to start blotting at your chest with them.

"Sorry again for the mess." she sighed and made eye contact with you, only to quickly look away.

Did she know something you didn't?..

.

Clearing your throat you looked down at her from the sink.

"It's really no worries.. It's an old shirt.."

"Still..You're all sticky now.."

"I think I've been through worse." You stifle a laugh and look away.

..

"So.. What's your name..?" She asked attempting to make small talk.

"Y/N."

"Right."

"Anyways..let me go buy you that drink."

"True."

You get off the counter and follow the girl back to the bar.

Eventually Ellie came back to her seat next to you.

"Oh? Y/N..Who's this? hmmmm?" She couldn't help but tease you.

"Oh please.. it's just a friend.."

"Right..Wait..what happened to your shirt?? I swear to god whoever did that to you I'll kick their ass-"

"It's okay.." You laughed and calmed Ellie's nerves.

"Accidents happen."

You look to the girl and laugh quietly. God you needed to go home.

..

"You seem on edge." Ellie called out as you two walked back to your apartment.

"Just..buzzed." You lied right to her. goodness.

"I know that's not all y/n."

"That girl was just.. really familiar. Did she seem that way to you too..?"

"Nope. You're just overthinking again."

"probably."

..

You made your way back to your apartment, eager to shed the stained shirt and uncomfortable jeans. As you undressed, something caught your attention in your pocket — a note with someone's number on it?

great.

Starting up a warm bath you add some bubbles and light a candle, you'll worry about the note later. You took off your bra and got into the bath tub scrolling on your phone to then look at the note sitting on your sink.

Fuck it.

"Hey, This the girl from the bar?" You wrote the text, you questioned if you even really wanted a reply.

Ping!

"hah! Yeah, it's me. wyd? :)"

"Taking a bath :p"

"Cute. Proof my love?"

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　 　

ok Ik this sucks but maybe I'll make a part 2..if that's something you guy's would like idk!! :)

#wlw #lesbian #fanfic #tlou fic #abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby x you #abby anderson smut #tlou abby #the last of us part two #the last of us 2 #ellie williams

[coochiequeens]

An update to an older story that’s goods news!

When Jenny Nguyen signed the lease to create her dream bar, she wasn’t sure it would stay open for more than a few months.

But earlier this month, 43-year-old Nguyen’s first-of-its-kind establishment in Portland, Oregon, celebrated its one-year anniversary. Aptly named The Sports Bra, it’s a sports bar where only women athletes appear on the TVs.

Business has been good, despite the niche business model and record inflation sending food and beverage prices soaring. The Sports Bra brought in $944,000 in revenue in the eight months it was open in 2022, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.

It was profitable in that first year of business, Nguyen adds.

“It turns out, it’s pretty universal — that feeling of being a women’s sports fan and going into a public place, like a sports bar, and having a difficult time finding a place to show a [women’s] game, especially when there are other men’s sports playing,” Nguyen says.

Initially, she wasn’t sure the idea would work at all. The vast majority of money and attention historically goes to men’s sports only — a big reason why The Sports Bra was reportedly the country’s first bar to only play women’s sports on TV.

It’s also not the kind of thing Nguyen would ordinarily do: She describes herself as “very cautious, risk averse.” But her obsession with women’s sports and frustration with its lack of representation on television screens drove her to empty her life savings — about $27,000 — and give it a try.

“Me, personally, I thought the idea was brilliant and that [it was] what the world needs,” Nguyen says. “But I had no idea that the world would want it. I just wanted to give it a shot.”

How The Sports Bra went from running joke to reality

Nguyen is a lifelong basketball fan who played the sport at Clark College in Vancouver, Washington, before tearing her ACL. She’s also a longtime restaurant worker who spent three years as Reed College’s executive chef.

In 2018, Nguyen and a group of friends wanted to watch the NCAA women’s basketball championship game. They went to a mostly empty sports bar and still had to plead with a bartender to switch one of the smallest TVs — which played without sound — from a men’s sport to the women’s championship game, she recalls.

Together, they jumped up and down celebrating “one of the best games I’ve ever seen,” Nguyen says, as a buzzer-beating three-point shot sealed the championship title for Notre Dame. Afterward, she was struck by the normalcy of her situation.

″[We’d] gotten so used to watching a game like that in the way that we did,” she says, adding that they’d only find better viewing conditions “if we had our own place.”

Days later, she channeled her disappointment into a hypothetical: What would she name her bar? “The very first thing that came into my mind was The Sports Bra,” Nguyen says. “And once I thought it, I couldn’t un-think it, you know? It was catchy. I thought it was hilarious.”

For years, she joked about it. Then, the fallout from social justice movements like #MeToo and the country’s racial reckoning after George Floyd’s murder left her wanting to make a meaningful impact on the world and her community.

Nguyen, who came out as a lesbian at age 17, says she doesn’t always feel welcome at most traditional sports bars. The Sports Bra could help her, and anyone else who’d rarely felt accepted in other sports establishments, feel like she belonged.

“I thought about, if we can even get one kid in here and have them feel like they belong in sports, it’d be worth it,” she says.

Helping other women’s sports bars get started

At first, Nguyen had her savings, and $40,000 in loans cobbled together from friends and family. That would keep The Sports Bra afloat for three months, based on her cost estimates for labor, inventory and other overhead.

In February 2022, she launched a Kickstarter to raise $48,000 — enough money for an extra six-month financial cushion, to build up the sort of regular clientele any bar or restaurant needs to survive long-term.

To Nguyen’s surprise, the campaign raised more than $105,000 in just 30 days, thanks to a viral article in online food publication Eater. “At that moment, when I was looking at that Kickstarter graph, I thought to myself, ‘This might work,’” she says.

But the money, which came from around the country and world, was no guarantee of success. Actual people in Portland still needed to frequent the bar.

Today, there’s often a line out the door. Women’s basketball icons like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi showed up, for an event sponsored by Buick, earlier this month. Ginny Gilder, co-owner of the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, has even waited in line to watch her team play on The Sports Bra’s TVs, Nguyen says.

That’s a far cry from the Kickstarter days, which Nguyen says only happened after she was denied business loans by multiple banks and small business associations. The denials commonly cited the high risk of a unique concept run by a first-time entrepreneur during a pandemic, she adds.

Even the bar’s core concept is a struggle: It’s hard to find enough women’s sporting events to fill up the televisions. Only about 5% of all TV sports coverage focuses on female athletes, according to a 2021 University of Southern California study.

Nguyen says she’s taken to reaching out directly to sports networks and streaming services, some of which have hooked her up with access to more women’s sports content. She also spends an inordinate amount of time “scouring” TV listings, a process she likens to “taking a machete and chopping through a jungle.”

But she’s no longer alone. Another bar specializing in women’s sports has opened in nearby Seattle, and Nguyen says she’s in touch with a handful of other prospective entrepreneurs asking her for advice on opening similar visions in other cities.

“I would love to have as many people experience the feeling people experience when they walk through these doors,” she says. “It feels very selfish to keep it to this one building that holds 40 people at a time.”

#USA #oregon #Portland #jenny nguyen #The Sports Bra #A sports bar for women and women’s sports #She was originally denied business loans

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “Whhhew...! That was-”

Vaggie: “A lot?”

Charlie: “-better than expected!”

Vaggie: “No kidding. If I’d known inviting your dad here would get Alastor looking like a wet cat, I’d’ve pushed for it sooner.”

Charlie: “I’m just glad you pushed when you did.” (smooch) “Thank you. I’ve missed him.”

Vaggie: “Looks like he’s really missed you too, babe.”

Charlie: “Mm. Not enough to call, though.”

Vaggie: “Ehh, calling can be scary. Good thing you’re plenty brave.”

Charlie: “Only when you’re holding my hand!”

Vaggie: “Husk would say that’s an act of fucking bravery all on it’s own, letting yourself get grabbed by the small, mean, grumpy lady. Remind me not to help him out at the bar again ever. I think there’s vodka in my hair.”

Charlie: “I’ll try, but you know you’re gonna help anyway.” (second smooch) “Can I get a ‘you’re welcome’?”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Charlie, I didn’t do anything.”

Charlie: “You do lots.”

Vaggie: “And thank hell Angel Dust isn’t around to hear that…”

Charlie: “I’m serious! You got me to call dad in the first place!”

Vaggie: “I just suggested it, you’re the one who did it, and you two worked things out together like a real father-daughter team.”

Charlie: “And we’re a great team too.”

Vaggie: “Well I’m definitely a pretty big fan of us. Although…. Sir Pentious and Keekee are giving us a run for our money. And the Niffty plus a lock of Lucifer’s hair combo might just have us beat.”

Charlie: “Blegh! She actually got that in the end? I thought her scissors couldn’t even cut it!”

Vaggie: “They didn’t. She used my spear.”

Charlie: “She WHAT-”

Vaggie: “And asked your dad very nicely to please take off his hat so she could trim off a piece without ruining the rest of his hair.”

Charlie: (sigh) “I guess as long as she ASKED…”

Vaggie: “D’you think her whole room is just a shrine to quote unquote bad boys?”

Charlie: “Oh don’t say that. We need to introduce her to some boybands or something.”

Vaggie: “We?”

Charlie: “Yes ‘we’, little miss likes making lesbian covers of the songs normally sung by teenage boys while you’re in the shower and think the sound of running water can in any way drown out your beautiful, heart stopping voice-”

Vaggie: “I- you- You’ve been listening!?”

Charlie: “Eeeev-er-y morning yep! Heheh~”

Vaggie: “Diablo mio… I need a drink.”

Charlie: (giggling) “To go with the vodka hair?” (nibbles Vaggie’s fringe) “Nom nom nom. Delicious~”

Vaggie: “Scratch that- clearly WE need some SLEEP.”

Charlie: “How can I sleep at all tonight, though? Vaggie- we’re gonna get a meeting with the top angels of creation! We’re gonna be on cloud nine! Literally! In HEAVEN!!”

Vaggie: “And sleep won’t be enough to prepare me for that but you definitely need it.”

Charlie: “It’s impossible! I need to SING!!!!!”

Vaggie: “You need to go shuck off those shoes and get in your ruby slippers while I put in your fav movie so we can get some rest.”

Charlie: “If you put in the Wizard of Oz you know I’m 100% gonna sing anyway right.”

Vaggie: “Yeah, but you’ll be singing in bed so you can keep watching the movie, and that’s good enough for me.”

Charlie: “I love youuuu~”

Vaggie: “Love you too sweetie. Slippers. Bed. Z’s. Now.”

Charlie: (kicks off shoes) “Ta da! There’s no place like home!"

Charlie: (clicks hooves together)

Charlie: "Heheheheh...!”

Vaggie: “I meant on the bed in your pajamas and under the actual covers- vaya, whatever. Scoot. Don’t go running off to Oz without me.”

Charlie: (snuggling vaggie in a hug instead) “I’m never going anywhere without you, Vaggie. Including heaven.”

Vaggie: (awkward laugh) “Great…”

Charlie: “Wanna know whyyyy?”

Vaggie: (smiles) “I make a great hand-holder, apparently.”

Charlie: “Yes. And, you’re home.”

Vaggie: “….yeah? I’m here? This is our room?”

Charlie: (snorting) “Vaggie-”

Vaggie: “In our hotel??”

Charlie: “Vaggie nooo- Anywhere else would be home too, with you there.”

Vaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: (deep breath)

Vaggie: “…... Charlie-”

Charlie: “You gonna press play?”

Vaggie: “-huh? Oh. Yeah.”

Charlie: (snuggling her) “This has been an amazing day. Wish every day could be like this, forever.”

Vaggie: “Yeah.” (hoarse) (curling up as close to charlie as she can) "Me too.”

-101 minutes of Oz later-

Vaggie: "Charlie?"

Charlie: "... nnnoooo..."

Vaggie: "Charlie, c'mon, at least let's get your coat off."

Charlie: "Mmrrr... mi mi mi..."

Vaggie: "You can go 'snork mi mi mi' afterwards. Work with me here, Dorothy- I can't get you settled into Oz without help."

Charlie: "Hmmheheheh... so im Dorothy..?"

Vaggie: "Definitely. You've got the ruby slippers on and everything."

Charlie: "I love that you call my hooves that~ Thats so silly. You're so silly, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "And you're already half asleep. Suspenders next, okay?"

Charlie: "Remove the suspenders... delete the suspenders..."

Vaggie: "Get your horns tangled in the suspenders somehow, wait, hold on-"

Charlie: "SUSPEND the SUSPEDERS!"

Vaggie: "Alright, good enough. That's all the annoying stuff gone anyway. You should be good like that, right?"

Charlie: "Sleeeeeepy. Snuggles?"

Vaggie: "Snuggles right after I change, give me one sec okay."

Charlie: "Mmm."

Charlie: "...vaggie."

Vaggie: "That was half a second."

Charlie: "Vaggiiiiie."

Vaggie: "I'm right over here, stop making grabby hands."

Charlie: "Vaggggiiiiiiiee...!"

Vaggie: (huffs) "Fine, fine..." (snuggles) "Not like my nightie would cover much anyway. But if we end up having to get up in the middle of the night for something exploding again, you're going out first, and I'm stealing your jacket."

Charlie: "You look good in my clothes."

Vaggie: "I look like a ten year old. The sleeves have to be rolled back to the elbow just so I have hands."

Charlie: "I like your hands..."

Vaggie: "Thanks." (kiss) "Go to sleep, Charlie."

Charlie: "Wait- heheheh- wait, Vaggie-"

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Vaggie, Vaggieeee~!"

Vaggie: "Giggling into my boobs isn't helping me understand what you're saying, babe."

Charlie: "Vaggie. If I'm Dorothy, and youuuu are GAY, then.."

Vaggie: "Little scared to see where this is going, not gonna lie."

Charlie: "Does that make-" (snickers) "Does that make you a girlfriend of Dorothy's?"

Vaggie: "............."

Charlie: "Vaggie~?"

Vaggie: "...Charlie. Please."

Vaggie: "Go the fuck to sleep."

Charlie: "HEH!"

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #incorrect quotes #very silly nonsense #post-stress charlie vibrating and then melting like jello left out at a picnic table on a hot summer day #vaggie trying not to think about what comes next #snuggles #charlie would love the wizard of oz movie fight me

[fyeahnix]

Dogsong | Sevika/Reader Explicit 10.6k F/F CW: breathplay, mild daddy kink, lesbian smut, no y/n use AO3 (read here for correct texting format)

High-energy evenings in Zaun melted down and metamorphosed into bustling and boisterous nights. Laborers swarmed from their day jobs tired and grumbling, eager to shake off the stench of a hard day's work with an even harder pint of hooch. The last rays of sunshine retired beneath the horizon; neon streaked the Lanes, picking up the slack where natural light abandoned its role. Buskers and ruffians bathed in magenta and mint hustled blue collar workers and businessmen alike. Black market vendors screamed over drummers to fence their hottest products before closing. Jericho's food stall was packed to the brim with Zaunites of every race imaginable starving for their last meal of the day. But The Last Drop? Closed for the night.

The bar-turned-nightclub was the landmark halfway point in your designated path home from work. The chartreuse lights blinked on one by one as the giant drew close to opening every night. Once the last light flickered on, the club was open to scrounge every last cog out of its dedicated patrons. Tonight, the cyclops slept. No lights and no patrons lined up around the corner waiting for the doors to open. The owner was preoccupied with more pressing matters this Friday evening.

How did you know that? The same reason your evening walk home was as peaceful as they came, even around the shadiest crevices of the Lanes. You'd witnessed muggings and assaults before, dodged solicitors and chem-stunted drug dealers seeking to become your next plug. Zaun's infamous crime lord, Silco, ruled with a more notorious underboss as his right hand—your girlfriend, Sevika. And your relationship with her had its perks. She made doubly sure that your usual trek home was safeguarded by her underlings hidden in plain sight. A watchful weapons salesman here, a nodding thug there. "Zaun royalty" was as close a descriptor as anything else.

When you entered your condo on Zaun’s Promenade level, you knew Sevika had only left recently. Wisps of cedarwood cologne clung to the foyer and living room and trailed back into the bedroom. Last year's name day gift to her—a custom, earthy note mastercrafted from Renata Glasc herself. You were thankful for the connection since you'd had next to no experience with fragrances on your own. Still, as infrequently as she sprayed the unique, luxurious scent, it left you yearning for her all the same.

An important business dinner whisked her away tonight. Normally, you were invited to events as her plus one, and her boss, Silco, would regard you with a gentle cant of his head. Tonight? The final stages of new business dealings—no outsiders allowed. Fair enough.

You still pouted at her yesterday when she had relayed the news. Sevika wasn’t immune to your perfected puppy-dog eyes, a skill you picked up from the very hounds you bred and trained in your profession. She placated you with a kiss on the forehead and the promise of dinner at one of Zaun’s finest establishments tomorrow night. At least you had that to look forward to after a long week and barely any time alone with her.

Sevika had left her discarded clothing and towels scattered from the bedroom to the bathroom, and you rolled your eyes at once again having to remind her to pick her shit up. A quick scolding text would suffice, but you decided against it. She probably left in a hurry again, and she wouldn't answer anyway. Rarely had the opportunity when discussing business.

Under steaming water, you showered, scrubbed away any lingering dog fur and hidden slobber. The relief was instant and welcome, but as water pounded your face and neck, you found yourself missing a pair of hands on you. You didn’t shower together often; between your schedules and Sevika’s disdain for hot showers, there wasn’t much opportunity. Friday was your dedicated time together in preparation to spend most of the night at The Last Drop. And Janna, did she know how to use her hands during that time.

Where would she have ventured tonight? What winding road would she have traveled? Which muscles would she have massaged first? Back, traps, deltoid? How far down would she have dragged her lips? You shivered at ghostly memories caressing your neck, your shoulders and hips. Arched into the imaginary fingertips under your breasts and across your ribs. Held still at the phantom hand nestled between your thighs—

But it was far, far too early to get carried away. She'd be back before the twenty-second bell, right?

Out of the shower, you stole a shirt from Sevika's armoire and paired it with your own underwear. Your shared bed was a mess of cream sheets and burgundy blankets that neither of you had time to straighten. You didn't mind the mess as much when you flopped onto the bed and snuggled into Sevika’s pillow. Her lingering scent, smoke and spice, rose proper butterflies in your belly. And with those butterflies, memories of your first encounter fluttered back.

You had met over two years ago. Ungrateful new owners and teething puppies made your week worse than hell, and that pushed you to craving a drink or five at the first watering hole you laid your eyes on. The Last Drop loomed in the distance with a "Grand Reopening" sign, so you shrugged and took your place in line.

New ownership—a middle-aged man with a timid adoptive daughter he doted on—had seized control after the previous owner's mysterious disappearance and death. The heady club atmosphere didn't match his gaunt, professional demeanor. The homely vibe was rendered extinct, usurped with neon and black lights. Exotic dancers shared a newly-built stage with underground indie rock bands, entertaining patrons drifting under the influence of a new street drug called "shimmer."

You'd taken solace at the end of the bar—ordered and enjoyed your first shot of vodka, no chaser, to wash down the anger and frustration. The squirrelly bartender eyed you closely when you quickly waved for a second shot. You were a lightweight and it took no time for the alcohol to kick in. You rimmed the second glass as a reminder to pace yourself.

The crowd and bass had been deafening. Pool balls cracked behind you in a rowdy game of nine-ball. Players swore and roared insults across the table over a heated poker game in the distance. Your guard lowered, easily lost in the music and bluster.

A piscine Vestayan male had approached you and leaned against the bar in your personal bubble. Glanced you up and down, licking his chops and flicking his barbels. Asked how your day was. You initially clocked him as bad news and hindsight confirmed that.

Short answers didn't cut it for him. Neither had telling him to go fuck his mother sideways with a rusty axe. His webbed, moist fingers landed on your shoulder, and when you jerked away and attempted to stand, they wrapped your upper arm. The strength in his grip was herculean, and you immediately regretted even venturing out for the night.

You had broken his hold enough to attempt an escape but bumped into someone solid behind you. A tall and dark-skinned woman with a strong nose and full lips had inserted herself between you. She took a final swig of her drink, then set it on the bar like it was a piece of fine antique glassware. Glanced the guy up and down before tilting up her chin.

The music had drowned most voices out, but you heard her rumble clear as day. "Is there a problem here?"

The guy's barbels flickered again. He released your arm, shook his head, and slinked off like the plague rat he really was. No argument, no fight, no challenge.

Before you'd taken the second shot, she stopped you and asked to buy you a drink instead. You scowled until she mentioned the drink had been spiked when your attention was diverted. One furtive glance, and the bartender immediately discarded it without a word. The entire ordeal made you want to leave and sulk in your bedroom for the rest of the night.

Sevika, as she had introduced herself, was persistent in a way unlike the asshole from before. She didn't press the drink more than once but sat with you for over three hours at the bar and chatted you up until you released the tension in your shoulders and jaw. Growing up in Zaun accustomed you to a certain flavor of brusque speech but never with the level of humor Sevika peppered in.

As the night carried on without issue and you planned to leave, she had offered to walk you home. You hesitated until you realized how much bigger and taller she was than other patrons in the club. There was no telling who you'd run into on the way back home, so you did what you thought was best and accepted the offer.

Vague conversation had colored the walk home. Your apartment at the time was over a mile away from the club, so you were thankful for the company in the dead of night. Sevika strolled a safe distance from you, never invaded your personal space, nor did she seek anything in return. She was, however, persistent.

"Drink offer's still open if you're interested."

You'd told her you'd consider it.

The smirk she'd given you was telling, like she already knew the answer you'd give. She fished an unfinished joint from a tin in her pocket.

Inhaled.

Exhaled plumes through the nose.

"The bartender, Thieram? Ask for me if you're ever at the Drop again. I'm there most nights."

"Most nights? Why so often?"

She'd laughed, drawing your blush at what you assumed was a rather stupid question.

"Guess you'll have to find out."

She'd taken a final drag, flicked the roach into the pavement across the way, and wished you good night.

You'd taken up her offer the next night.

It wasn’t extravagant or any novel-esque version of a meet-cute. A bad week at work and a pushy asshole brought you together purely by chance. Sevika didn't tolerate harassment in her club, and she thought you looked pissed off enough to strangle a gigalodon. Had plenty of bark between your teeth, she said, but lacked the bite to back it up.

And she was absolutely smitten with it.

You hugged Sevika's pillow closer, memories drifting as a Piltie drama slurred in the background.

Bzzt, bzzt!

Your phone stirred you out of nodding off. You unlocked it and checked the notifications. Sevika?

Should have smoked before this shit…

Poor baby. Dinner must have been stale. You typed up a response.

that bad?

It's bad. Fucking piltie. Won't stop bragging about his summer home and horse stables in the countryside…

ugh, another, seriously?

Good for business. Unfortunately…

details?

Sevika's responses were quick. You imagined her resting her chin on her bronze fist, right hand typing away under the table as a haughty socialite bored the group. You couldn't picture Chross having any patience for such gloating bullshit. And Smeech? Likely snapping his jaws and stroking his short beard.

You mean besides his apparent connections to Demacia? Nah. Don't have em all yet, go fucking figure. I might fall asleep at this rate…

I'll keep you company bear~

What would I do without you?

oh I dunno, I could prob list about 17 things…

Shut up lol

Sevika's following texts staggered in. Bouts of instant messages would follow minutes-long periods of utter silence. The updates for the meeting proved to be entertaining at the very least. Silco sat unamused. Renata picked at her nails while Eramis picked at his food. The new dealer droned on about the partnerships he garnered topside and how much wealth and prosperity he could provide Zaun. The man had his head crammed up his own ass, Sevika said, but Silco at least straightened in his seat once talks of shimmer exchanges with Demacian black markets commenced.

Despite the spicy entertainment, boredom set in for you as well. There was nothing else on TV save for the usual Friday night drama or movie. Any friends you had were more than likely busy with their usual weekly activities, as you would have been. You stared at your phone, hoping and willing for a text from Sevika to come in after your last response. None did.

Still, you could garner her attention. She may be stoic and gruff oftentimes, but she'd raise an eyebrow at a few salacious words, two if you were lucky. Why not roll the dice?

Vikaaa… how much longer? really been missing your hands all day

It was a start, and you buried yourself deeper into your blankets eager for a response. Sevika didn't enjoy texting much. It was tedious for her, too slow and monotonous where a simple phone call would suffice. Not to mention, she could only text with one hand. While she'd past gotten accustomed to gauging the grip strength of her metal prosthetic, her fingers proved a different challenge altogether. "Claws" were more accurate as she'd unintentionally gouged at least three phone screens by now. If not for you, she wouldn't text at all. You were grateful she'd made an exception for your disdain of most phone calls.

Still, the wait was agonizing. Minutes sailed by and you drifted before the indicator danced on Sevika's side of the conversation.

Yeah? Funny. I was just thinking about wrapping my hand around that pretty little neck of yours. Squeeze just a bit so I can hear you struggle to breathe.

Sevika may not have enjoyed texting, but she certainly wasn't terrible at it. You grazed your neck right where she would normally place her hand. Yours wasn't big enough.

dont you wanna hear me choke on your fingers instead?

You wet your lips thinking about Sevika's fingers exploring your mouth. Brushing your lower lip, stroking your tongue. You crossed one leg over the over, smashing your thighs together as Sevika's response came in.

Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I'll have you choke on my dick.

Would that have been so bad? You didn't think so.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me where you want my hands first.

You swallowed hard. Playing hardball already only to dangle it over your head like a carrot. If that didn't say much about Sevika, you didn't know what else did. But fine, you could deal for now.

everywhere fucking everywhere. want your hands down my back, squeezing my throat, my tits, my ass, janna, I really want you playing with my tits right now

Your thoughts soared as wildly as a cliff-shrike’s first flight. Sevika's caress was calculated. She knew where to glide her hands to make you sing, where to prod her claws to make you growl. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't emulate her precision and poise. And her size? Out of the question. Your feeble attempt now was another failure for the books. A pinch at your nipple and clit coaxed a moan from you, but you still heard Sevika's usual croon of "patience" in the back of your mind.

Hadn't you been patient enough? You'd been waiting all day, hell, all week, and dragging your thumb over your clit for an ounce of relief grinded your nerves to ash. You huffed. If you had to suffer, then so did Sevika; it was only fair. You gathered your bearings enough to type a follow-up.

and your fingers? fuck I'm getting so wet thinking about them. want em in and around my mouth, pinching my nipples, buried in my cunt…

You set the phone down and breathed deeply. You wanted to do more, tease more, show Sevika what she was missing being away right now. You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated. Sevika would never say no to any selfies of you, even if they were sent at the most inopportune moments. Hell, if anything, they'd rile her up even more. Couple that with the danger of opening them around prying eyes, and you had a recipe for disaster.

You tugged your underwear down your hips and rested them at mid-thigh, exposing yourself to cool air and crisp sheets. From memory, you mimicked where Sevika would glide her hands in habitual order: jaw, sternum, hips, ribs, breasts. Between your thighs, a gentle tease, before running one finger right up your slit.

A sigh crept from your lungs.

You grabbed your phone—Sevika still hadn’t texted you—and snapped a quick photo of yourself. Your lower half, hand buried beneath a mound of hair, right on display. With minimal internal debate, you shifted positions for a second and caught your full-length mirror in your periphery. Perfect. With some adjusting, you knelt, bent over face down, and snapped a photo of your cunt and ass up on full display. Not at all an unfamiliar position. Satisfied, you shuttled them off into the void with a message:

missing you

It took no time at all before you saw the texting indicator bounce once more. Sevika's response, however, was delayed. She texted, then stopped and repeated the pattern three more times. What stole her attention so suddenly? A new proposition? A conversational shift? Maybe a nosy chem-baron spying over her shoulder?

At long last, her response dropped in and the corner of your lip lifted.

fuck

…Or she was speechless. That worked too.

Pride puffed your chest. With any luck, you'd rile Sevika up so much that she'd have no choice but to fold you into the compromising positionings you photographed yourself in. It wasn't the first time you tested the waters with an exhibitionist stunt like that. Certainly wouldn't be the last.

You'd often hung out with Sevika at The Last Drop on Friday nights. Amateur poker players—who were much too busy coveting what wasn’t theirs to keep their cog purses from drying up—dared to ogle you as you sat perched on her lap. You stared and winked at the spineless ones all while murmuring sweet nothings in your girlfriend's ear. They'd tug at their collars, lick cracked lips, swish their ragged tails like they had any chance in hell. Tunnel vision prevented them from gawking at your little grinds on Sevika's thigh. That or she glared daggers at them when you did. She was never bothered, only playfully whispered for you to knock it off in a voice so husky that you didn't mind the threat to pay you back in her private office upstairs.

Your phone vibrated right before you aimed to toss it across the bed. While you expected another text, a quick glance at the screen flashed Sevika's name with a heart next to it.

A phone call? Now?

You answered. "Didn't think you could talk right now, bear."

"You're a fuckin' menace, you know that?" she drawled, halfway between a growl and purr.

If only she could see you humorously twirling a lock of hair at that.

"Know who almost saw that? Take a guess."

You scrunched your nose. "Chross?" Gross.

"Nope."

"Please not Silco…" You didn't think you could face that man again if he ever saw those images. It was a dangerous game you played, sure, but anyone but him.

Her silence spoke volumes and your stomach dropped at least fifty feet. Of all the people…

"...Sev, I'm serious."

Sevika snickered. "I'm fuckin' with you. Nah, not Silco. Glasc."

Renata? That was more than a relief. Still, she'd throw you a sly glance across a dinner table the next time you saw her, but she wouldn't judge you for it. You may have only been acquaintances, but she was more than open about the certain… souvenirs she claimed from her own sexual escapades.

"Came at the perfect time. Needed a break and a smoke." On cue, you heard the crackle of embers from Sevika's inhale. "But don't think I didn't have anything for you. Check your messages."

You pulled away from your phone to do just that. She had—two images—and excitement trilled up your spine as you gaped at them.

Sevika took them in a restroom that was nearly as nice as the basic ones you'd seen topside. Soft lighting highlighted her dusky, brown skin well, accentuating a strong jawline and the sharp bridge of a once-broken nose. Jet-black hair was fashioned into its usual top knot with a few loose strands framing her face. The lower half brushed her shoulders and warned of an upcoming haircut. The black button-up she wore was crisp and tailored, one sleeve missing to accommodate her bronze arm, the other rolled up to her elbow to flaunt corded muscle in her forearm. The first button on the shirt remained unbuttoned, and you licked your lips at the tease of skin leading down her chest. Your eyes followed and you took note of the simple elegance of the dark brown waistcoat protecting her broad, muscular chest. Her gaze fixated on the phone carefully cradled in her claws.

You swallowed hard at the next image as another long drag crackled in your ear.

The hand clutching the phone hadn't moved, but Sevika's attention did. Light wolf-grey eyes bore holes in the mirror. Where her free hand had been jammed in her pocket previously, now it was thrust into the front of her undone black chinos. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped. Free from the confines, she displayed the gunmetal grey boxer briefs proudly. And with that display came the delicious glimpse of brown skin and trail of dark hair that snuck into her underwear.

Sevika was unbelievably handsome—suited up, naked, or any state of undress in-between.

The cherry on top? She was packing. The slight bulge in her underwear commanded your attention, made you salivate. Janna only knew you wanted to grind your ass against that. Or maybe worship with your lips.

"Don't get quiet now. You had so much to say earlier. What was it? You wanted my fingers in and around your mouth?"

A "yes" slipped between your lips like a snake's slither and so did your hand slither between your thighs again. Your eyes fluttered closed.

"Wanted them sheathed in that fucking pussy?"

You choked out a moan. A barely noticeable hitch in Sevika's breath coaxed a tug at the corner of your lip.

"Answer me," Sevika said, voice hardening.

You scrambled to find your own voice as you rolled your hips and lifted one leg. "Mhmm…" you started, attempting a pathetic nod Sevika would never see. "Want 'em deep. So fuckin’ deep."

Sevika sighed deeply. "Baby?"

The way her voice lilted forced your eyes open.

"I want you to stop touching 'til I get home. Can you do that for me?"

Like the hounds you trained daily, your ears perked. You'd grown accustomed to the intention and inflection in her voice and even caught the hint of a smirk at the end. Despite the honey dripping off her words, it was a command, no mistaking it. And though it coaxed a strained whine from your throat, no command she made ever came without buildup towards a worthy payoff. Sevika rewarded patience, after all.

Your words caught in your throat, but you pushed through. “Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

A quick smile broke through. So that's how she wanted to proceed? Considering the long week, you'd definitely play along. Your chest heaved and breath hitched before you spoke the words that served as a verbal handshake to start your "game."

“Yes, Daddy…”

The quick laugh that followed was broken—deep, breathy, a growl of triumph. Shifting fabric crinkled in your ear with a sharp inhale following suit. “That’s my good girl.”

And while you longed for a follow-up to her praise, you received nothing but silence in return. Sevika’s breath still lingered with the occasional drag of her joint. But there was nothing else you could perceive.

…Until you listened closely. Sevika was experienced, a master of controlling her own body. You’d seen as much when she threw rear hooks at the punching bag in your spare room or armlocked sparring partners at the gym. Years of boxing and mixed martial arts trained her to a level of discipline you only coveted. Breath control came to her easily. Well, normally, it did. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” was what she taught you, but her breaths now contradicted her advice. Shaky, uneven, so subtle that she may have been trying to hide it.

And then it clicked.

You tightened your grip on your phone, then released it to trap it between your ear and the bed. You lay there, paralyzed under the fear that if you breathed the wrong way or uttered a word that she’d stop. You shut your eyes and listened. It was a private show in your mind’s eye—Sevika with her hand jammed in her boxers, undulating her touch between her folds, abs flexing with every jerk. Lips parted, the small and cute gap between her front teeth peeking through. Attention focused on nowhere but her own actions.

And you couldn’t do a single thing.

You clamped your thighs together, moist from your slick. No touching… Now it was evident why she voiced the command.

Every Zaunite swear rolled past her lips as she lost herself in her ministrations, and you couldn't help but let a pathetic sigh escape yours.

Sevika shifted and the sudden sound of her belt clinking against the counter startled you. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you on your knees right now.”

Straight to the point. Straight to your cunt.

“Have you look up at me with those pretty eyes. And that pretty fucking mouth.”

There were more than a few occasions that you both had slipped away for a few precious  moments during a business dinner. Lips met tongue met neck. Knees deadened in genuflection on carpet or hard marble, primed for worship. Sevika's breath hot in your ear that she’d forgotten what you tasted like and needed a reminder. If you had attended tonight, you'd bet your life savings you'd have had your face stuffed between her legs as you stared up at her with stars in your eyes.

“You better not be touching right now,” she warned playfully.

“‘M not…” you whispered back. It was hard. So fucking hard to keep your hands balled into the sheets instead buried in your cunt. Patience, a waiting game, and you relaxed as you grew tired and started to drift. “Not touchin’.”

Sevika let a strained groan rip from her chest. She was finished, and the jingle of her belt confirmed as much. As she came down from her high, she inhaled deeply. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you clean me up right now.” Her words echoed twice in your head as your world went black. You would clean her, tongue only, licking up every stray drip of slick that rolled down her muscular thighs. Silence festered between you for a spell, allowing you to delve deeper into the thought until she spoke once more. “Gotta head back. See you when I get home, cariño.”

You drifted into the abyss, your declaration of love dying on your tongue as the call ended.

------

The front door's lock clicked in the distance, and the instinctual bout of anxiety burned away as you realized what it was. Not an intruder, but your girlfriend returning from her business dinner at… first bell? Fuck, she was late. Memories of her earlier words quickly stamped out any surfacing annoyance.

Sevika shut the door and locked it, kicked off her boots, and threw her keys and something else onto the kitchen counter. Despite her size, she ambled silently through the condo, and it was only her usual sigh of relief that allowed you to track her movements to the bathroom. She used the sink, likely washing her hands and face before letting out another exhale that was muffled through a towel. The same routine you committed to memory through a sleepy haze for months prior. The same routine that ended when she finally poked her head into your bedroom.

Her eyes darted between you and the TV before she raised a brow.

"Thought you'd be asleep by now," she said.

"Is that why you told me 'no more touching'?"

Sevika approached and sat on the edge of the bed to hover over you, trapping you between her hands.

"Wasn't expecting it to be that long, baby. Dinner went over an’ our debrief at the Drop took longer than usual too." You scrunched your face in mock annoyance as she leaned in and settled at your collar. "But… I'm here now. So lemme make it up to you."

Sweet citrus undertones intermingled with herbal cigar and her own natural, smoky scent. Memories of your late-night parting kisses outside your old apartment wafted back like pleasant dreams. For a few precious seconds, you shut your eyes, craning your neck to submit to her. And just like old times, you trailed your fingers at her waist before raking your nails up her spine, drinking in the guttural groan at your collar.

Sevika kissed a pathway up your neck and along your jawline before she pulled away just enough to leave her own lips out of reach. Even through the soft, amber ambiance of the room's light, her eyes sparkled with genuine interest. The arcane scars on her left cheek glittered, silky under your fingertips.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said.

A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "Hi, bear."

Sevika closed the distance. Your foreheads knocked, breath mingled, and before her beautiful, dark lips could capture yours in a kiss, you halted her advance with a single finger.

"Uh uh. I know you saw that mess you left out when you came in…"

She sighed, shut her eyes at your light scolding.

"...so please. Pick your shit up and then maybe I'll keep playing with you."

When you let go and she opened her eyes again, her face twisted in half-amusement and half-apology, a cute and unguarded expression she reserved only for you. The twitch in her lips revealed her desire to retort, but ultimately she conceded.

"’M sorry. Woke up late, was in a rush."

"Baby, I told you I was working later today and wouldn't be able to wake you up. Some of the pups are having teething and potty issues this week."

"I know, I know," she murmured against your lips. "Slept through three of my alarms. I'll pick it up. All of it."

"You fucking better," you said, teasing her lips with yours before you steal a kiss. She wasn't caught off guard in the slightest. In fact, she was ready for it, leaned into it with all the bravado of someone who missed a long lost love. When you had your fill, you pulled away with her bottom lip in tow. "Now, stop stalling."

Sevika grumbled in protest. She pecked the corner of your mouth before retreating and snatching the first articles of her discarded outfit from the bedroom floor. The action was entirely juvenile, not at all indicative of the type of person Sevika presented publicly, but well within the line of her subtle humor you grew to love.

Regardless of said task, you couldn't help but break out a smile as you followed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway, a flighty bounce in every step. You tried to hide it as she glowered at you.

With her dirty boxer briefs in hand, she finally spoke. "The hell you smilin’ about?"

"Just find it funny," you said, circling her. "How much you harp on me about being patient. And yet… here you are, having to wait yourself."

Sevika clearly didn't find the predicament humorous. With an upturned brow, she flung her boxers at your face. You didn't have time to react and your head became a makeshift hamper. She choked out a laugh as you tore them off and threw them back at her.

You tailed her through the condo as she picked up her discarded nightwear and towels and tossed them in the hamper. The final destination was your bathroom and you leaned against your sink, biting your lip, suddenly drawn into Sevika’s chosen outfit for the occasion.

“What?” she said. “See somethin’ you like?”

Quite an understatement.

Photos didn’t do her justice. You couldn't help but rove your eyes over her. Her shirt and pants accentuated her toned musculature in a way that made you lick your lips. The getup fit her well, looked comfortable, and even masked her usual disdain for dressing up to “kiss businessman ass.”

You’d once made an offhand comment about how great she’d look in a vest. Her effort clearly didn’t disappoint. For someone who hated dressing up? Damn, did she exceed expectations.

Sevika rolled her eyes and motioned to undress herself. You caught her wrist in yours. Laced your fingers and squeezed as you lowered them both. She raised a brow, eyes searching yours. She was so eager to rid herself of her clothes, but you couldn’t bear letting her tear herself out of them so hastily.

Not so soon.

Not yet.

"Let me?"

She canted her chin. Studied you.

You released her hand and mapped out a path with deft fingers. Up her right thigh, ghosting over her zipper to her hip, relishing the flare of her nostrils. The bathroom light twinkled off the waistcoat's buttons as you ascended over them, each resounding with a simple tap when you flicked them. You traced the visible shirt buttons upwards, stopping at her sternum where it flared open. Beautiful brown skin starred with small freckles and moles gave way where you pressed. You glided over her neck, felt her throat bob when she swallowed. The scar on her left cheek shimmered under your touch, silky aqua and turquoise marbling that guided you back down her jaw and neck. Back to the second button on her shirt to finally undo it.

You looped the button through its hoop and more of Sevika's skin became available for you to dusk your lips over. Her audible exhale drove you further as you released the third. More skin, more area to cover with gentle and practiced kisses. If you could cover every inch of her chest, you would. Stain her, mark her, claim her with the most seductive shade of lipstick you owned. A rich burgundy that matched her favorite poncho would suffice, wouldn't it?

While you kept your mouth busy at her chest, you released every button on her shirt and waistcoat. As much as you desired to roll them off her shoulders, you kept them on, admiring how they framed her over her dark sports bra. You scored down her taut abs with your nails until you found and fiddled with her belt. A bit of handiwork made releasing it trivial, and it clinked beneath you both as you left it undone to fumble for the button at her pants. Unbuttoned and unzipped, her pants lay open and free for you to graze fingertips at the waistband of her boxer briefs. You glanced down. A subtle bulge hidden beneath dark grey.

A cold, metal hand teased your waist, found purchase at the small of your back, spurring you on. From her waistband, your touch rose up her lower abs, pressed against them to coax the slight give and jerk of her muscles. She was solid underneath you, honed and sculpted like an athlete carved out of Pentelic marble. You rebuffed any muttered insult of her being a brute. She wasn't, far from it. Mixed martial arts and boxing kept her in shape, but her intimidating size and strength only belied her gentleness with you behind closed doors. Besides, would a brute have enough patience and self-control to handle the pressure of being Silco's right hand? The weight of being heir to the metaphorical throne?

Sevika flicked her tongue over the corner of her top lip when you feathered the dark hair that vanished into her boxers. Your final descent brushed over that trail, crept over the bulge at the apex of her thighs. The metal hand at your back pulled you closer. Sevika lowered her head to rest at your shoulder and you caught the tail end of a guttural groan at your ministrations.

She inhaled. Deeply. Her lips latched to the juncture of your jaw and neck. Her rumble deepened, hips angled into your touch.

"Cariño…"

It was your turn to smile. You knew where to touch and prod, the correct tempo and intensity to render Sevika putty in your hands. She melted when you tugged at silky, black hair. Let her lips part and drag across your cheek until they met with yours. It was cute how hard she tried to reel it in and keep her control, how hard she tried to stifle the jerk of her hips. You congratulated yourself for the effort… until she spoke against your lips to render your work undone.

"Turn around for me?"

Tone relayed the intended message. It sent a shiver crackling up your spine that halted your movements. Surprise quickly morphed into latent arousal. Why keep her waiting when you could smell the direction this was turning?

Her grip loosened enough for you to adjust yourself. You turned, slowly, and faced the mirror to watch her rise to her full height behind you. Sevika held several inches over most human men in Zaun and a full head over you. The toughest men who frequented The Last Drop tucked their tails at her size and strength. With you? She was as harmless and cuddly as a teddy bear. And she proved as much when she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed for good measure.

She buried her nose into the crook of your neck and shoulder, planted open-mouthed kisses up the side of your neck and into your jawline. In pure Sevika fashion, she tipped your jaw to give herself more access to the column of your throat. You couldn't help the giggles that fell from your lips, and she followed suit with a few chuckles of her own.

Any words you would have spoken were lost in a whispered sigh as she nuzzled right against your ear and spoke. "Been missin’ you all night."

And your heart somersaulted out of its cage.

Your eyes caught Sevika's in the mirror—predatory, wolf-like—irises pushed to the edges by pupils blown wide. She stared back at you. Mischief brewed underneath as the corner of her mouth tweaked upwards. She pulled you in closer, ran her full lips up the nape of your neck.

"Tell me again where you want my hands, beautiful."

Fuck, her voice. Like a growl soaked in arousal. You shifted, aiming to turn around but she kept you in place. All you wanted was to steal her breath from her lungs, make her speak those words again into your mouth. Consume every consonant and vowel as sustenance.

Her hands roamed and if you didn't give her an answer, she'd probably decide for you. So, you dredged up your earlier conversation and relayed it back to her.

"My… my mouth."

"Yeah?"

You nodded pathetically. She obliged.

Her left arm stayed wrapped around your waist. She brought her right hand up to lift your chin. Examined you in the mirror, turned your head this way and that like she was contemplating what to do with you. Finally, she tutted and smiled.

"Such a pretty girl." She thumbed your bottom lip and you flicked your tongue out to graze it. She didn't mind in the slightest, even encouraged it by dipping in to brush the inside of your lip. When you wrapped your lips around her thumb, she allowed you for all of ten seconds before removing it and painting your chin with your saliva. "With a pretty fucking mouth, too. Don't you think?"

Another nod, and she nipped the shell of your ear.

"I wanna hear you say it, baby. Tell me." She squeezed you gently for emphasis.

You sighed, cheeks flaring with the words floating in your mind. "I… I have a pretty fucking mouth."

Sevika snickers and kisses you in three places. Lightning bolts on inflamed skin. "Good girl. Now, open." Her fingers slid across your lips, waiting for the access that you granted immediately.

Her index and middle split in your mouth, taking residence on either side of your tongue. You teased between both before running up the middle finger. You swirled it left, pulled it center, sucked it like your life depended on it. You repeated the same for her index. Her fingers were devoid of any distinct flavor, but if you thought hard enough, you feigned the savor of your dripping cunt from memory alone.

You sucked and sucked and sucked on her fingers, bobbing slowly as you maintained eye contact with the owner of the wolfish grin in the mirror. One draw of her fingers withdrew them far enough to let your saliva dribble down your lip and chin. You cleaned up as much as you could, but the rest streaked and smeared as Sevika removed herself completely to cup your chin, then your cheeks.

That same hand made the agonizing trip down your neck and chest to graze over your pert nipples peeking through the large shirt. The breath you inhaled made her stop, and her stopping made you whine in protest.

"Think I remember you wanted my hands on your tits. That true?"

While your head was swimming through the heady haze of arousal, you'd have been remiss to not notice both her hands at the hem of your shirt easing their way up. Each second she waited for a response made the trip more leisurely. Typical Sevika behavior. She was a master of drawing pleasure out until the last second—the true embodiment of the virtue of patience despite how many vices she indulged on the regular.

Once more, an eager nod didn't satisfy her.

"Use your words, baby."

"Y-Yes, I want your hands on my tits. Mmm… all over them…"

Sevika flashed you a quick smile before she peppered four kisses from your neck up to your cheek. The last she released slowly, letting her lips linger hot on your skin. Her nose feathered across your cheek, ghosted your earlobe. She kept silent, but her gaze followed her hands as they raised your shirt.

Slowly.

“Arms up,” she said.

You obeyed. Up, up, up the shirt rose. It stopped right over your face, and Sevika held you there with your arms raised for several seconds before you caught on to her game and hip checked her. She laughed at you when you cussed at her, but once the shirt was tossed aside, Sevika was free to fully engulf your breasts in each hand. Her hands were big; you placed your own over hers and relished at the difference in size. A groan roiled in the pit of your chest only to ease up and drift from your lips as a breathy sigh.

She massaged them, kneaded them, rolled them under strong hands. Her fingers, still damp and drying from your mouth, tweaked and tugged your nipples. The motion and temperature difference had you choking out a moan, and you felt it like a bolt of lightning from your cunt to the soles of your feet.

Her bulge pressed right against your ass. You pushed and grinded back into her to elicit a low groan. Not a full-size dildo or even a pack-and-play from what you could decipher, but the friction still felt fucking amazing.

"Feel good, babe?" She pulled your earlobe with her teeth, and with it, a strained moan from your throat. "You're lucky," she began. You protested when her claws left your breast and descended to squeeze your supple ass. "You're lucky it's late and I'm tired.” With her hand at the back of your neck, she bent you forward until your cheek lay flat against the cold marble counter. She flicked her tongue out against your tailbone, then the dimples in your back. Licked an unwavering trail up your spine until she reached your nape. The shiver she coaxed from you was delicious but didn’t hold a flame to the words she purred in your ear. “Or else I'd fuck you silly. Tear your little ass apart." She could be so much dirtier, so much kinkier. This? It was light work, and it still made you gush between your thighs.

No manner of struggling or rolling your hips made Sevika let up. But you still played along.

"Good thing… you don't need a strap for that."

"Oh yeah?" You felt Sevika's smirk grow from her place at your neck. "What else should I use?" She lifted you, gave you a quick swat on the ass—you flinched—before tugging at your breast again. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger then repeated the same motion with the opposite hand, making your toes curl.

You cursed yourself for being so fucking sensitive. Sevika had learned of it after your first night together and had been exploiting it ever since. With enough attention, it wasn’t impossible to make you come from nipple play alone. Janna knows she’d done it before and then laughed at you afterwards. Called you cute.

Whether she aimed to elicit another slew of moans from you, or make it difficult for you to answer properly, you didn't know, but she was successful regardless.

"Mm… your fuuu….f-fin….fuck…"

"My what? Speak up, baby girl."

"Fuck off, Sev. Your fingers. I want your fucking fingers inside me."

You let her tweak your nipple one final time before you grasped the back of her large hand, intertwining your fingers. She didn't resist, let you guide her hand slowly but surely down your ribs. Under your guidance, her touch remained gentle with a rebellious edge as she scored your heated skin with blunt nails. She pinched at your hip bone as you passed, then reached to trace the ring of your belly button before stopping briefly at the waistband of the underwear.

With one snap of the band with her thumb, you brought her hand lower and gasped when her fingers weaved through the hair on your mound. You squeezed it in your claw grip. Grinded against her again.

"I’ve barely touched you and you’re already writhing under me," Sevika whispered.

Well, she was right. You'd been so pent up and eager the whole night, a simple ghost of her fingers right where you needed her drove you wild. All the hours of waiting and you'd finally get closer to release. The grand question was… how quickly would she let you?

Sevika was notorious for her antics. Begging on your knees? She had you covered. Servicing her first and thanking her for it? A favorite of hers. Worshipping every inch of your body under honeyed words and praise? You never minded waiting there. Patience above all was rewarded, but she still made the experience enjoyable along the way. Which route she'd explore today was still undetermined, even with the familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.

No amount of grinding or snapping the waistband of her boxers made her budge. Instead, you earned a smirk and playful tug of your left nipple. You pouted.

She moved an inch lower to appease you, kneaded your left breast again for good measure. The motion kept you at attention, pliable and eager to please, to do whatever needed to get what you so desperately desired. You shot Sevika a glance that would have put your own hounds to shame.

"Look at my pretty girl. Can't wait to get fucked, can she? What’s the magic word, sweetness?"

Your heart rate spiked right as your belly backflipped. Embarrassment shouldn’t have crept up given how many fucking times you both have done this.

And yet…

“Please?” you said, supplementing with a slow roll of your hips. “Please, Daddy Bear?”

Well, any amount of embarrassment was worth the tremor that vibrated through your lover. It was cute how she couldn’t fully contain her excitement when her sadistic side poked its head out to play.

"Good girl. Let go."

You gave her blazing hand one final squeeze before you did.

Sevika inhaled at your hairline and planted open-mouthed kisses from neck to ear. The shudder in her breaths was evident enough that she wanted to drive further, deeper. She was losing herself, relinquishing her mastery of control. "I want to hear you choke on my fingers, baby. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded. "Mhm…"

"Good. Now, open your mouth."

You obeyed, stuck your tongue out for good measure.

Sevika traced the curve of your chin and jaw, then your top lip until she rested on your bottom. She caressed the center right under the tip of your tongue. "Get my fingers nice and wet, and then I'll give you what you want. Deal?"

“Mhmm…” You accepted her first offered digit between your lips to suck on. She let you control the pace, allowed you to grab her flesh hand in yours to worship and savor at your leisure. You rolled your tongue around it again, working arduously to cover every inch in your saliva.

When you were ready, you added a second, her ring finger. It reached the back of your tongue with ease, and the thought of how trivial it would be to gag on it made you throb between your thighs. But you weren't ready. Not yet. With both in your mouth, you set them on your tongue and began to suck them off.

In.

Rest.

Out.

In

Rest.

Out.

You repeated the motion, eyes half-lidded as you savored the moment. You sucked her fingers like you would her strap, albeit a much easier experience, but erotic nonetheless. Unlike her strap, there wasn't enough girth to stretch your lips or ache your jaw. Not enough length to tickle the back of your throat into gagging too hard. But you still took her all the way, and when she hit the back of your tongue, you coughed and choked and opened your watering eyes to cherish your girlfriend's reactions.

An excited tremble shook through Sevika, rocking you. She fixated on your mouth and the saliva that dripped down your chin as she removed her hand. "Fuck…" She took one swipe over your bottom lip—admired it—before dipping into your underwear.

The two soaked digits glided on either side of your clit. The temperature and texture difference forced your head back onto her shoulder with a loud gasping moan. Just like her virtue, her strokes were resolute, every one aiming to make you feel it from top to bottom.

Sevika never disappointed. For all the times she enjoyed watching and hearing you beg, she loved giving you a full body experience to make up for the wait. While she worked her fingers, she pressed herself into you. She worked her claws up your body—cold metal on burning flesh—until she reached and tugged on your nipple again. Her breath tickled your earlobe as she alternated between nips and featherlight kisses trailing to your collar. Abandoned your clit to tease a ring around your entrance.

"That feel good?" she asked.

Dragging the response from your brain proved more tedious than you imagined. You pushed past the mental haze, swam past the dark cloud until you found the words you were looking for.

"Mhm… y-yeah. Yeah… it feels so good…"

“Hahaha… here." She snatched her hand away and you whined as she painted your lips with your own slick. "Taste."

You pulled her soaked fingers into your mouth, lapping at the lingering juice extracted from her tease and craving more.

You stole her hand and guided it back into your underwear, back to sliding around your clit. "Vika…" you whined.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Want your fingers in me, bear… Want 'em deep."

There was no shame in the request, even if your cheeks burned brightly. But you did shudder at Sevika's rumbling laugh behind you. Hissed at her teasing loop around your entrance.

"Want 'em deep, hmm?" she mimicked. Her words lingered, clung to the air like the Zaun Gray as she finally, finally pushed one finger past the threshold into you.

A gentle "fuck" dribbled past your lips. You ground your head harder into her shoulder as you shut your eyes to the world, hellbent on focusing solely on the sensations she gifted you.

Sevika plunged as deeply as she could. Slow motions, in and out, with a curling caress against your soft and sensitive front wall. Then stopped to let you accommodate. Her claws grazed your ribs and under your breast once more before settling at your neck.

Your spine straightened, eyes flew open as she tapped your jugular. Your attention locked with hers.

"You still with me?"

The implication was clear. Sevika loved to be rough and push your limits, and you were more than willing to bend and test them under her watchful guard. Two years together was enough to solidify a clear communication base, but you didn't progress this far without a great deal of understanding and patience. She was surprisingly a good listener, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been surprising given her line of work. Credit where credit was due, of course.

Finally, you sighed your agreement and braced yourself for the oncoming crescendo.

Sevika retracted her finger to add a second to the mix. She inserted, slowly, sheathed both inside you like a deadly weapon. Large fingers stretched you in that way you loved so much, and she muffled your oncoming moan with her own lips and tongue.

The fog that muddled your brain thickened by the second. Your focus darted everywhere, trying desperately to keep up with every angle of pleasure she massaged your senses with.

Her claws set firmly in place on your neck. Tapped there again in rhythm. Made you acknowledge their presence. She tutted when you arched against her to coax her plan into motion.

"Deja de moverte. Be still." Her index traced down the column of your throat, bobbed under your careful swallow. If you hadn't known her as long as you had, it would have felt like a threat. Instead, it was a warning, a safety precaution.

You stilled, relaxed, and breathed evenly, counting in your head like she taught you.

She pumped once, a test.

Paused.

Another, and Janna, it was difficult not to fidget.

A third, and she open-kissed the corner of your jaw for passing. She kept her pace slow and put pressure on the arteries, leaving your throat and breathing free.

Your pulse thumped against her metal palm. The restricted blood flow intensified every other sensation, had your eyes fluttering. You rasped. The abyss lingered at the very edge of your consciousness, and you wanted to go deeper, sink further, play chicken with it…

Fuck.

Fuck…

But Sevika pulled you out as quickly as you dipped in.

You mourned the loss, but knew it was for the best. Sevika knew it was for the best.

"Good girl," she cooed in your ear, then turned your head back to the mirror. "Look at you, sweetness. My pretty girl."

You gazed in the mirror to stare at the absolutely fucked-out figure in your girlfriend's arms. Half-lidded eyes and parted lips meshed well with erect nipples and crimson marks painting a beautiful and exposed neck. The heady redolence of sex wafted in the air. With your underwear lowered, Sevika's fingers plunged in and out of a pussy glistening with slick. Every thrust filled your ears with the gushing sounds of your juices soaking her fingers.

Your juices.

You were acutely aware it was you in the mirror. Aware of the high you got from the deadly, metal hand at your neck. Aware that your essence remained coated on your tongue. Aware that she fucked you in all primal senses until they dulled.

Blood pounded your ears.

She thrusted.

Heart rammed against your ribcage.

She thrusted.

"Vika…" you moaned. "Se-Sevikaaa…"

You buried your nose into her collar and your world went dark as your hips gyrated into her fingers and into her body. Your orgasm rolled through you like a wave, ebbing and flowing with Sevika's slowing thrusts, every jerk a splash against her. The mantra of her name on your lips broke down to a whispering prayer. She murmured against your temple, gentle words you couldn't fully comprehend with your mind still rattled.

Ragged breaths escaped from your lungs. Your legs wobbled even with Sevika holding you up with her metal arm. And Janna, were you hot. Despite feeling like you’d just sprinted a marathon, the blissfulness was unmatched.

"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, then her voice dropped. "Or did I fuck you too good?"

You cradled her left arm—a nice chill for your burning skin—with your laugh rolling right into a satisfied purr. She wasn't wrong; even with her fingers she fucked you well into another dimension and it took at least a full minute before your awareness returned. Sevika was still very much buried inside you, unmoving, but still there.

And it felt… good.

She must have been thinking the same as she adjusted and kissed behind your ear. "Gonna pull out now."

And when she did, carefully, you winced and jerked against her. But you stopped her. Her eyebrow rose at you in the mirror, and you quelled her questions when you took those two fingers into your mouth.

"Fuck…" Sevika's claws dug at your hip as she stared at you like Janna herself made her ethereal presence known to the world. She was awestruck watching you clean her hand of your essence. Hungry. Feral. Predatory glint in her wolf-grey eyes.

She spun you around and after a few quick glances at your lips, leaned in to capture them in hers. The usual spark and dominance showed in her aggression—teeth clicked against yours, deft tongue eager to taste and explore your mouth for the umpteenth time. It dizzied you, made it hard to breathe. You shivered as cool metal waltzed down your back, and you retaliated with a prance up her abs.

Sevika flexed under you, rock solid, before she pulled away and stared at you with blown pupils. She tilted your chin up, holding you in place to command your attention, then licked her full lips.

"You taste so fucking good," she whispers.

You locked eyes with her. Experience told you everything she wanted to do to you. How she desired to bend and mold your body, stretch and push you to your limits, savor every bite like a last meal at Stillwater. You melted under her watchful eyes. All you had for her was a smile, and she mirrored it with a wolfish smirk of her own. You seized the moment and moved from her abs to sternum. The thump-thumping of her heart slowed, adrenaline and lust finally wearing off as she knocked her forehead against yours. You inhaled, the lingering base note of her cologne recentering you and pulling your focus back.

"Look at you. So fucking pretty," she said.

Even with your own essence spread across your lips, your knees buckling under her, your eyes half-lidded and dazed, she still gazed at you like you were the most beautiful specimen in all of Runeterra.

"You're such a good girl, you know that?" She released your chin to knock a strand of hair out of your face. "Don't you ever forget it."

You knew what you meant to her, inside and outside the bedroom, but you would never grow tired of hearing her say it.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Daddy."

She gave you two quick pecks followed by a final and more passionate third. And just like that you both relinquished your roles to pick up again another day.

"Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sevika caressed your cheek with her knuckles. “Ready for a shower?"

You shook your head. "In the morning? Took one earlier. Don't feel like it. Also don't think I can stand much longer."

That was all fine with Sevika. She hoisted you onto the counter, asked you to wait, and sauntered off into the bedroom.

The high was finally starting to wear off as you leaned against the bathroom counter, replaced with the occasional brush with darkness. The ghost of Sevika's fingers still remained buried in your cunt—a nice stretch that left a delicious throb and ache in its wake. Wet stickiness between your thighs had you rubbing them together. You could only imagine how great Sevika's tongue would have felt if either of you were up for it.

Eventually, she returned in sweatpants and her sports bra with a washcloth she pulled from the linen closet.

"Hey," she said, lifting your chin gently. "Sleepy already?" Her lip twitched at what you assumed was an oncoming smirk but it never came to light. Your attention wavered and those were the last words you were able to decipher.

Sevika chuckled to herself.

With the mess between your legs cleaned and dried, Sevika flung your arms around her neck. The bathroom light flickered off and you floated to the bedroom and drifted down to the bed.

Sevika stretching over you was the last thing you saw before the bedroom was plunged into darkness.

------

Sudden rhythmic caresses across your ass and thigh stirred you from sleep. Distant cerulean lights sliced through pitch black, left splatters on the far wall. Heartbeats rocked beneath your cheek in tandem with the rise and fall of the strong, bare chest beneath you.

When the motions stopped, you drifted again, struggling to fight sleep until a light buzz startled you alert.

Worry set in at the annoyed and familiar ursine grumble. The hand left you to snatch the phone off the nightstand. It only took five seconds before your girlfriend set it back down and shifted under you.

Immediately, you felt your time together was over. Early texts usually meant last minute shipping manifests. And shipping manifests meant the rare days where Sevika left you in bed alone. Instinct took over and you straddled the body under you, hands planted on her muscular chest to keep her in place.

Sevika rose to her elbows. "What's up, sweetness? You okay?"

You could have laughed. Typical Sevika, overly worried about you while her sleepy, husky voice lit a small fire in your loins. You made a valiant attempt to stamp it down.

"¿Cariño?"

You reached out slowly. Traced down the soft curves of her angular face—forehead to nose, lips to chin—then cupped her cheek. You rested your own forehead against hers.

Neither of you spoke. Didn't need to. Your worry was evident but Sevika snorted. Her sigh tickled your cheek and lips. She peppered lazy kisses across your jaw, down the column of your neck, and back up to rest on your lips.

Simple reassurance.

Metal and flesh engulfed you and pulled you close until you settled your head back home on her chest. Warm fingertips traced the ridges of your spine—down, down, down—back to cup your ass and the back of your thigh.

"Just a reminder text from Ran. Still gotta be up in seven hours." Her voice deepened, a still-sleepy-growling-purr that rolled a shiver up your spine. "After we're done, I'm all yours."

You knew from experience and the nature of Sevika's line of work that she couldn't promise that. Still, her word was as good as gold. Phone communication could only tide you over for so long after a long and stressful week. You drifted off, mumbling to yourself and Sevika about how thankful you were to finally have time together.

#Arcane #Sevika #Sevika/Reader #Sevika x Reader #Arcane Sevika #Sevika x You #Sevika smut #League of Legends #Sevika fic #fanfiction #nix fics #graphic design is my passion.jpg #I put way too much effort into making that image and correcting the formatting so please support lol #seriously image editing is like the one internet skill I never picked up LMAO #heacanon #headcanon: sevika

[essentiallyleaf]

day 12. praise kink. with. choerry.

944 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x female reader, praise kink, pet names, public masturbation, oral sex, squirting, welcome to fluff central.

notes.

just trying something out. a permanent state of being at this point. exploratively, leaf.

It was the first time she tried ice skating, that day. A regular Saturday morning at the mall, wearing layers upon layers just to end up feeling way too hot. As regular as any day spent with Yerim can be. Her favorite part was when she was holding onto the barrier for dear life, but you managed to push her off of it a handful of times. Anytime you did, you helped her precarious balance by guiding her with your hands in hers, or on her waist. That was your favorite part.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?”

“I fell fourteen times, dude! I managed to fall as I was reaching for the cup of coffee you were giving me, and I was standing still! What do you think?” She said while laughing enthusiastically.

She didn’t like it at all, and she had the time of her life.

“I think you did great”

-

“How about you take me on a real date?”

“A what?”

“You know what they say about Paris…”

“That for each person there’s two rats?”

“That it’s the city of- wait, WHAT?”

She dragged you to a terrace bar in Montmartre, the sun was just setting, blues and oranges meeting on the roofs from the Sacré-Cœur down to the Louvre, giving the city a slightly wistful aura (it was hella expensive, but what isn’t, there? Plus, you’re okay splurging, if it’s for Yerim). It wasn’t sad, it was just cool, and dreamy. It was romantic. A postcard-worthy place to share your first kiss. It wasn’t for your first, but for your fourth that she asked a local to take a picture of it. It felt very awkward, both of you were laughing the whole time.

“Sorry if I taste like alcohol”

She usually doesn’t drink, so she felt really self-conscious about it. You found that endearing. The flavor had a deep cerise, leaning purple tint and resembled some kind of fruit, you couldn’t really pinpoint which.

“You taste like heaven”

-

You went to the lake together for a weekend trip in April. You convinced her to go on a hike on the first day (“You said there wouldn’t be any scary cliffs!” “Come on, it’s barely even a drop, you can do it! Just take my hand!” “You ugly liar!” “I am only one of those two, and you know which”; she always falls for stupid flirty lines like that), she was so tired at the end of it, so she decided that both of you would spend the next day relaxing. Relaxing ended up meaning hiding behind a large tree near the hotel and raising her cute white long flowery dress to her waist for you to finger her while your tongues met.

“You can stay silent while we do this, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Want a hand?”

“Yes, please…”

You put your other hand on her mouth and started sucking down her clavicle to her cleavage as you picked up the pace. She kept whimpering the whole time and even let a high pitched scream into your palm as she came. In the (very real) event that someone heard her, at least they had the decency to not show that.

“You did amazing, baby”

She really didn’t. Old couples kept looking sideways at the two of you for the rest of the day, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because you were a lesbian couple in the conservative countryside. But you know she needed to hear that.

-

She likes putting make-up on even when she’s staying home; she says she finds it fun, at some point both of you silently acknowledged that she also just wants to look good for you. And God, does she look beautiful with that exaggerated orange-pink blush on her cheeks. Or, actually, maybe it was just the wine that gave her face that amazing glow. You couldn’t really tell, you also had your fair share of glasses. You also don’t remember much of what happened before that sexy blush-tinted face found itself between your legs and was hit by a couple of little squirts as Yerim brought you to orgasm only using her tongue. What you do remember, is that all you wanted after that was to reciprocate the favor.

“Thank you, thank you so much, baby,” you panted out. “So good for me, that was so good”

“Hehe~”

The time of her life. This time though, with that slutty make-up, girl cum dripping from her features, it looked lewd.

“Now just lay back on the couch and stay still, honey, you don’t have to do anything else, okay?”

“Okayy~”

“Nice and cozy, just be my good girl and relax, yeah?”

She could only moan back as soon as you started eating her out. You couldn’t just give up on talking altogether though, so you compensated for the lack of oral stimulation with your fingers anytime you detached your lips from her core.

“Are you close, sunshine?”

Her adorable little whiny noises answered for her.

“Then I need you to do one thing for me, hm? Just one thing. I need you to let it go and cum for me, don’t restrain, sweetie”

When she cums, it’s a hurricane. Of spasms, screams, and sprays of transparent liquid coming your way.

“Yes, baby, so good. Let it all out, my baby cherry.” That’s what she tasted like. “My perfect baby cherry. Come here”

You surrounded her in a warm embrace and covered the two of you with her oversized zip-up hoodie. As you kissed her blushed cheek, Yerim looked like she was already asleep.

“You did awesome, cherry girl. You are so perfect”

-

footnotes.

sorry for bad dialogue. cheesily, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x female reader #loona #artms #choerry #choi yerim #loona choerry #artms choerry #loona smut #artms smut #choerry smut #choi yerim smut #loona choerry smut #artms choerry smut