Charaylights

👑🐝 multi fandom, non-label , (18+) ⚜️Have a good visit ⚜️ F.E.M 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏿

[charayy]

𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑇𝑜 𝑀𝑦 𝑃𝑎𝑔𝑒 ⚜️⚜️

𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 :

20 𝘺/𝘰 , 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘-𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐿𝑒𝑓𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡,,,𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡 ,𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑒

𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑠 ⚜️ ⚜️ - masterlist

⭐️𝐴𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑒,⭐️𝐽𝐽𝐵𝐴,⭐️ 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ (𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒),⭐️ 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑎 (𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑁𝑜𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒),⭐️𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑖𝑚𝑠 4,⭐️ 𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠 ,⭐️+ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠

𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚜️⚜️

🐝= 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡

🍯= 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠 (𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 3𝑘)

💛= 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑/𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓

-𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻, 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓾𝓹𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 - (Upgrade U, Beyoncé + Jay-z 💛

I take requests!!

[charayy]

hi, I don't know if you're still writing fanfic but I have a request for sevika x vi smut with a mommy kink and squirting if possible. Also I love your work, I've currently been going through your whole collection

Hi honey! I am, just took a long break. I love squirting too 😖 your request was written here! Thank you 💛

[charayy]

Help a lazy girl out, Mommy?

“Vi gets home drunk and wants her mommy, Sevika, to take care of her.”

Sevika x Vi fic (wc: 2.5k)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), pussy eating, fingering, strap-on usage, aftercare, slightly drunk Vi, established relationship, soft dom!Sevika, sub!Vi, mommy kink.

A/N: This was a request! Find the request here.

Vi’s fumbling with the keys became a series of metallic bangs against the deadbolt. Each clang was a fresh assault on Sevika’s ears, a percussive prelude to the inevitable chaos she knew was about to stumble through the door. She sighed, the sound lost in the low rumble of the documentary playing on the television, and pushed herself up from the deep groove she’d worn into the couch cushions.

The door finally flew inward, crashing against the stopper with a thud that rattled the picture frames on the wall. Vi stood there, a silhouette against the hallway light, swaying like a sapling in a high wind. Her clothes were askew, a faint, boozy sweetness emanating from her in a cloud.

“Sevika,” Vi slurred, her voice a husky, needy whine. “Home.”

“I noticed,” Sevika said, her own voice a low, amused rumble. She crossed the room in a few long strides, her presence immediately commanding the space. Vi squinted, trying to focus, before pitching forward with a soft grunt. Sevika’s arms shot out, catching her effortlessly, one strong hand splayed across Vi’s lower back.

“Whoa there, champ. Had a good time?” Sevika’s breath was warm against Vi’s ear, smelling faintly of the vodka she threw back at the party she’d been to.

Vi melted against her, a dead weight that Sevika supported with easy strength. The younger woman buried her face in Sevika’s neck, inhaling her scent—a mix of clean linen, leather, and that unique musk that was all Sevika. “Mmm. ‘S okay,” she mumbled into the skin. “Missed you. Lazy, Sevika.”

A huff of laughter from Sevika. “Yeah? And who’s the one who can’t even unlock a door right now?”

“S’not the point,” Vi whined, her hands scrabbling weakly at Sevika’s shirt, trying to pull her closer. “I’m tired. ‘Nd I feel… sticky.” She rubbed her thighs together, a blatant, clumsy signal that made Sevika’s smirk widen.

“Sticky, huh?” Sevika’s voice dropped an octave, turning into a purr that vibrated through Vi’s entire body. She shifted her grip, hooking one arm behind Vi’s knees and the other around her back, lifting her with a grunt of exertion that was more for show than necessity. Vi gave a surprised yelp, her arms automatically looping around Sevika’s neck.

“You’re such a baby,” Sevika murmured, carrying her toward the bedroom like she weighed nothing. Vi’s head lolled against her shoulder, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin there.

“Your baby,” Vi breathed out, the words slurred but imbued with a desperate, needy honesty. “Mommy.”

The single word hit Sevika like a brick thrown at her face. Her steps faltered for just a second, her jaw clenching. She kicked the bedroom door open, the hard bang of it against the wall making Vi flinch. Sevika didn’t bother with the light, navigating the familiar space by memory. She dumped Vi unceremoniously onto the bed, where she bounced with a soft oof.

Vi sprawled on the duvet, a beautiful, messy picture of desire. She blinked up at Sevika, her eyes wide and glassy. “Please,” she whispered, her hands already fumbling with the button of her own jeans. “Please, Mommy. I want you.”

Sevika stood over her, a dark silhouette against the moonlight filtering through the blinds. She stripped off her own shirt, the muscles in her back and arms flexing with the motion. “Look at you,” she said, her voice rough. “Can’t even undress yourself properly.” She knelt on the bed, caging Vi in with her powerful frame. “Such a lazy girl. Always needing me to clean up your messes.”

Vi whimpered, arching her back. “Yes. Please, Mommy. Clean me up.”

Sevika’s hands were firm and sure as they batted Vi’s fumbling fingers away. She made quick work of the button and zipper, yanking the tight denim down Vi’s legs. The panties followed, a scrap of black lace that was already damp. Sevika tossed them aside, her gaze dark and hungry as it roamed over Vi’s exposed body.

“So wet for me,” Sevika growled, her fingers tracing the slick folds of Vi’s pussy. Vi gasped, her hips bucking up to meet the touch. “Did you think about me at your party? Did you get all worked up knowing I’d be here waiting for you?”

“All the time,” Vi panted. “Only ever think about you.”

“Good girl.” Sevika leaned down, her breath hot against Vi’s ear. “Now, let Mommy take care of this mess you’ve made.”

She didn’t waste any more time. Sevika settled between Vi’s thighs, her shoulders pushing them wider apart. She looked up at Vi for a heartbeat, her expression a mixture of adoration and raw, primal lust, before she dove in.

Her tongue was hot and firm, lapping at Vi’s clit in broad, confident strokes. Vi cried out, her hands flying to Sevika’s hair, her fingers tangling in the dark strands. Sevika didn’t tease. She knew exactly what Vi needed after a night like this—hard, fast, and relentless. She sealed her lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, her tongue flicking against it in a maddening rhythm.

Vi’s world narrowed to the hot, wet pressure between her legs. Sevika’s name was a broken chant on her lips, a litany of “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” that seemed to spur the other woman on. Sevika growled against her flesh, the vibration sending jolts of electricity up Vi’s spine. She slid two fingers deep into Vi’s soaked pussy, curling them just right to hit that spot that Vi made sure to show Sevika she loved.

“Fuck, Sevika! Yes, keep going… ple, please,” Vi babbled, her hips grinding frantically against Sevika’s face.

Sevika obliged, picking up the pace, her fingers pumping in and out while her mouth worked magic on her clit. The wet, obscene sounds of her ministrations filled the room, mingling with Vi’s desperate cries. Vi could feel the pressure building, a tight coil in her belly that threatened to snap. Her thighs began to shake, her breath hitching in ragged sobs.

“Gonna come, Mommy, I’m gonna—”

Her words dissolved into a high-pitched keen as the orgasm tore through her. Her back arched off the bed, her toes curling, her entire body convulsing with the force of it. Sevika didn’t let up, continuing to fuck her through it, drinking down everything Vi had to offer. And then Vi was coming again, a gush of fluid that soaked Sevika’s face and the sheets beneath them.

Sevika pulled back, her chin and chest glistening. She wiped a hand across her mouth, a feral grin on her face. “Messy girl,” she purred. “Now look what you’ve done.”

Vi lay boneless, panting heavily, her limbs too weak to move. She blinked up at Sevika, her vision blurry with tears and the remnants of her orgasm. She felt empty, aching for more.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Mommy, I need your dick.”

Sevika’s grin widened. “Where’s the last place I put it? In the top drawer with the spare batteries?” She rolled off the bed, her movements fluid and powerful. Vi watched her, her breath catching in her throat as Sevika stripped off her remaining clothes, revealing the strong, muscular lines of her body. She was a predator, beautiful and deadly, and Vi had never wanted anyone more.

Sevika rummaged in the nightstand, her back to Vi. The soft click of a latch, then the low, satisfied hum of a motor coming to life. She turned back, the strapon in her hand, its purple silicone dick jutting out from the cotton boxers it was attached to. She stepped into it, confirming it was secure with practiced ease, her eyes never leaving Vi’s.

“Is this what you were looking for, baby?” Sevika asked, her voice a low growl. She gave the dick a few lazy strokes, the motion hypnotic.

Vi nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She spread her legs wider in invitation, a silent plea. Sevika crawled back onto the bed, the dildo bobbing between her legs. She positioned herself over Vi, her forearms braced on either side of her head.

“You’re so lazy,” Sevika murmured, her lips brushing against Vi’s. “Can’t even be bothered to get yourself off. You need Mommy to do everything for you.”

“Please,” Vi whimpered, arching her hips up. “Please, Mommy, fuck me.”

Sevika didn’t need any more encouragement. She reached down between them, guiding the head of the strapon to Vi’s entrance. She rubbed it against her slick folds, coating it in her wetness, before pushing inside with a slow, deliberate thrust.

Vi gasped as the thick dick stretched her, the familiar, welcome burn making her toes curl. Sevika paused for a moment, letting her adjust, before pulling back and thrusting in again, deeper this time. She set a deep punishing pace, her hips snapping forward with a rhythm that stole the air from Vi’s lungs. Slow slide in, a curl, thrust, then slowly back out. It was driving Vi exceptionally crazy.

“You take it so good,” Sevika panted, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Such a good girl for Mommy.”

Vi could only moan in response, her hands scrabbling at Sevika’s back, her nails leaving red welts in their wake. She met Sevika thrust for thrust, her body moving on pure instinct. The drag of the dildo against her walls, the way Sevika’s clit grinding against the base of the harness sent sparks of sweetness through her bloodstream—it was overwhelming, all-consuming.

“Harder,” Vi gasped out. “Please, Mommy, harder.”

Sevika let out an airy laugh, her movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. She shifted her weight, grabbing Vi’s legs and hooking them over her shoulders. The new angle allowed her to go deeper, and Vi cried out as the head of the strapon battered against the sweets spots in her core.

“Is that what you wanted?” Sevika demanded, her voice rough. “Is that deep enough for you, you lazy girl?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Vi sobbed, her body trembling on the verge of another orgasm. She was so close, so fucking close. The coil in her stomach was tightening again, threatening to snap.

Sevika reached down, her thumb finding Vi’s clit. She rubbed it in tight, fast circles, the added stimulation sending Vi over the edge. Her body bucked when she tried to let out a silent scream, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on the strapon.

“Seh…Sevika—M’ gonna…” Vi stammered, her words catching in her throat as the wave of pleasure crested.

“Let go for me, baby,” Sevika coaxed, her thumb never ceasing its maddening rhythm. “Come for Mommy. Make a mess all over my dick.”

And Vi did. A gush of fluid shot from her, soaking the sheets and Sevika’s thighs. Sevika groaned, the sight and sound of Vi’s release pushing her closer to her own peak. She could feel the harness grinding against her clit with every thrust, the pressure building, building, building until—

She came with a cry, her body shuddering as the orgasm washed over her. Another sputter of wetness gushed from Vi as Sevika’s hips jerked uncontrollably. Her toes curled so tight, Sevika used her fingers to make them relax so she wouldn’t get cramps.

“Ahh, that’s it baby. There you go. Come for your mommy, keep squirting for me,” Sevika panted.

For a long moment, they were just two bodies tangled in the sheets, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the slowing beat of their hearts. Sevika carefully pulled out, the strapon sliding out of Vi with a wet squelch. She collapsed onto the bed beside her, her arm thrown over Vi’s waist.

Vi turned her head, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with sated exhaustion. She looked a mess—her makeup was smudged, her hair was a tangled halo around her head, and her cheeks were flushed a deep, mottled red. Sevika thought she had never looked more beautiful.

“You okay?” Sevika asked, her voice a low, husky whisper.

Vi hummed in response, a contented sound that rumbled in her chest. She snuggled closer, burrowing into the warmth of Sevika’s side. “Mhm. Better now.”

Sevika chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. “You’re a handful when you’re drunk. I had to withstand your alcohol breath this whole time. ”

“S’your fault,” Vi mumbled, her words slurring together again, the post-orgasmic haze combining with the last dregs of vodka. “You’re… you’re too good at this.”

“It’s a tough job,” Sevika said, her tone wry. “But somebody’s gotta do it.” She pressed a soft kiss to Vi’s temple, her lips lingering on the heated skin. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before you fall asleep in this mess.”

Vi protested with a weak whine, but she allowed Sevika to maneuver her off the bed. She was unsteady on her feet, her legs trembling with the effort of holding her up. Sevika wrapped a strong arm around her waist, half-carrying, half-dragging her into the bathroom.

She sat Vi down on the closed lid of the toilet and turned on the shower, the water hissing against the tile. While the room filled with steam, Sevika quickly shed the strapon harness, dropping it onto the bathmat with a soft thud.

“Stay,” she commanded, pointing a finger at Vi, who just blinked up at her owlishly.

Sevika stepped into the shower, the hot water sluicing over her body, washing away the sweat and Vi’s release. She tilted her head back, letting the spray hit her face, the heat seeping into her tired muscles. She felt Vi’s eyes on her, a heavy, appreciative gaze.

“You gonna join me, or are you just gonna watch?” Sevika asked, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Not yet. I have to piss. Then maybe throw up,” Vi responded with a dopey grin. Sevika just rolled her eyes but didn’t press the issue. She took her time, lathering her body with soap, the scent of sandalwood and vanilla filling the small room.

When she was done, she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body before another one around her hair. Vi was still sitting on the toilet, but now she was slumped forward, her head resting on her knees. She looked pale and utterly spent.

“Hey,” Sevika said softly, kneeling in front of her. “You okay?”

“Mmm,” Vi hummed. “Jus’ tired. And my head hurts.”

“You need water?” Sevika asked, her brow furrowed with concern. Vi nodded. Sevika helped her up, guiding her back to the bedroom and settling her onto the edge of the bed. She went to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water and two painkillers.

“Here,” she said, pressing them into Vi’s hand. “Take these.”

Vi obediently swallowed the pills and drank half the glass of water in one go. Sevika took the glass from her and set it on the nightstand. She then went about the business of cleaning up the mess they’d made, stripping the wet sheets and tossing them into the laundry basket. Vi watched her through half-lidded eyes, a small, contented smile on her face.

“You’re so good to me,” Vi mumbled, as Sevika returned with fresh linens.

“Yeah, well,” Sevika said, her back to Vi as she tucked in the fitted sheet. “I’d never want to stop.” She turned, her expression unreadable. “You keep my life interesting. Sometimes not in a good way. ”

“But you love me,” Vi said, her voice a sleepy, confident statement. “…right?” she finished, her voice no longer as confident.

Sevika paused, her hands stilling on the blanket. She looked at Vi, at her dazed, sated expression, at the way her hair was falling into her eyes. She looked so young, so vulnerable, and Sevika felt a surge of affection so fierce it almost took her breath away.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet. “I do.”

[charayy]

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

key: 🐝-smut

🍯-under 3k

🌟- over 10k

💛-headcanons/ fluff

SEVIKA X VI (arcane)

🌟🐝ALL UP IN YOUR MIND - High Sex

🌟🐝UPGRADE U - Suga Mama Series (3/? finished)

🐝DESERT EAGLE - Sheriff Sevika,,Cowboy au

🐝KITTY KAT - Shower Thoughts

🌟🐝💛BLACK HORIZON - cowboy vampire au, 50k slow burn on ao3

🐝BODYGUARD - Bodyguard Sevika x WWE wrestler Vi

🌟🐝NAUGHTY GIRL - aphrodisiac request

🍯🐝SAY MY NAME - breeding kink

🍯🐝NEW YEARS POST - balcony sex with fireworks

🐝GET ME BODIED - butch4butch +t4t sevivi

🐝CHECK ON IT - morning sex // Bottom Sevika

🐝EGO - daddy kink

🍯🐝ROCKET - trans!vi/g!p vi fucking Sevika at a party

🍯🐝XO- Vi riding Sevikas thigh

VI (arcane)

🐝HAUNTED - Vampire!Vi x human!reader

🐝CRAZY IN LOVE - Popstar!reader x Vi

SEVIKA (arcane)

🐝PARTITION - stripper!reader x clubowner!Sevika

CAITLYN (arcane)

MEL (arcane)

TO BE WRITTEN

MISC.

🐝CATER 2 U. - Caitlyn and Sevika take turns on Vi

HEADCANONS (all fandoms)

💛How arcane women get high (arcane)

Daily life/relationships with each other (arcane)

As Youtubers/influencers (arcane)

Favorites (arcane)

Relations outside of work (Dispatch)

….

PRISM (dispatch)

BLOW - camgirl!prism

6 INCH - shopping trip turns into buy sex toys

MALEVOLA (dispatch)

NO ANGEL - witch!reader

INVISIGAL (dispatch) BEAUTIFUL LIAR - stalker!invisgal x clueless!reader

SMASH INTO YOU - hate sex

STACK (Sinners)

BITE ME - stack turns you into a vampire

SMOKE (Sinners)

TO BE WRITTEN

ANNIE (Sinners)

CREOLE - Annie heals you… you repay her

Enjoy the catalog!

[charayy]

Updated…check it out 😽

[charayy]

Do you write caitvi? If so, would you be willing to write a fic where cait and sevika competitively take turns railing Vi’s brains out? (If not no worries)

Don’t worry, I already wrote it! It was very fun 🙃 your request was written here! Enjoyyy

[charayy]

CATER 2 U

“Caitlyn and Sevika take turns fucking Vi.”

CaitlynxVixSevika (wc: 2.4k)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on usage, vibrator usage, overstimulation, squirting.

A/N: This was a request! This was the request here. Enjoy! (Yes, I haven’t uploaded in four months, but trust the content is coming)

Vi was in the weirdest situation she’s ever been in. And she’s almost been killed three times in her life. She found herself lying on Caitlyn’s plush king-sized bed, naked with the exception of her socks, with two of the hottest women in the room.

Caitlyn was perched on the edge of the luxurious armchair, her long legs crossed. Her gaze, sharp and blue as a shard of winter ice, was fixed on the bed. On Vi. On Sevika.

Sevika stood beside the bed, her large hand resting on the back of Vi’s thigh. She smirked, a slow, confident stretch of her lips that didn’t reach her silver eyes. She looked down at the woman spread out on the dark sheets, Vi’s pink hair feathered against the fabric, her body already flushed and squirming under their combined attention.

Sevika tilted her head towards the corner Caitlyn was sitting in. "You think you can outlast me, Cupcake?" Sevika’s voice was a low rumble, an octave that vibrated through Vi’s skin. Vi felt a surge or jealousy coursing through her at the use of the nickname that she called Cait. As soon as it came, it started to dissipate when Sevika rubbed her palm on the sensitive side of Vi’s thighs.

Caitlyn uncrossed her legs, the motion fluid and deliberate. She rose from the chair, stalking near them with the quiet grace of a panther. "I don't need to outlast you, Sevika," she purred, stopping at the foot of the bed. Her finger traced the arch of Vi’s foot. "I just need to make her scream my name louder."

Vi let out a shuddering breath, her hands twisting in the sheets. "Oh, fuck you both," she gasped, but there was no heat in it, only a desperate, trembling need. Her body was the prize, the battlefield, and she was already losing the war.

The rules were simple and unspoken. Turns. They’d take Vi, one after the other, until one of them conceded defeat or Vi simply broke apart from the pleasure. Caitlyn went first.

She crawled onto the bed. Her long nimble limbs were elegant, almost balletic, a stark contrast to the brute force she knew Vi craved. She settled between Vi's splayed thighs, her touch a whisper against the heated skin. Sevika took a few steps back, not getting in her way. Caitlyn didn't rush. She pressed feather-light kisses to the inside of Vi's knees, her tongue darting out to taste the salt-sweet sweat there. She worked her way up, slow and agonizing, her hands mapping the thick muscles of Vi's thighs, her nails dragging lightly enough to raise goosebumps.

Vi was panting, hips twitching, trying to hurry her along. "Cait... please," she whined.

Caitlyn just chuckled, a low, smug sound. She loved this part. Loved watching Vi, so strong and defiant, come undone beneath her. She finally reached her destination, her breath ghosting over Vi’s slick folds. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating. Caitlyn dipped her head, her tongue flat and wide, and licked a slow, deliberate stripe from Vi’s entrance to her clit.

Vi’s back arched off the bed, a choked gasp tearing from her throat. "Fuck."

Caitlyn set a rhythm, a torturous, maddening pace. She used her whole mouth, her lips, her tongue, the gentle scrape of her teeth. She circled Vi’s clit with the tip of her tongue, teasing, before sucking it into her mouth. She looked up the length of Vi’s body, watching her face contort in ecstasy, the way her abs clenched, her breasts heaving.

Sevika watched from the side, her arms crossed over her chest, a muscle ticking in her jaw. She could see Vi falling apart, hear the little cries and moans Caitlyn was coaxing from her. This was Caitlyn’s game—precision, patience, breaking someone down piece by delicious piece. It was effective, but it wasn’t her way.

Caitlyn slid two fingers into Vi’s soaking wet pussy, crooking them instantly to find that spongy, sensitive spot inside. Vi wailed, her hands flying to Caitlyn’s hair, gripping tight. "There, right there, don't you fucking stop," she babbled, her hips bucking wildly.

Caitlyn didn’t stop. She curled her fingers again and again, her tongue working her clit in a relentless, perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of her fingers pumping in and out, the slap of skin on skin, Vi's ragged moans—it was a symphony of debauchery. She felt Vi’s inner walls start to flutter, a telltale sign that she was close.

"That's it, my love," Caitlyn murmured against her slick flesh. "Let go for me. Let me see it. I want to hear you.”

The command, the possessive endearment, was what pushed her past any barrier. Vi’s orgasm tore through her bones and brain, a violent, shuddering wave that left her breathless and boneless. She cried out Caitlyn’s name, just as promised, a raw, desperate sound that echoed in the room. Caitlyn lapped at her gently, drawing out the aftershocks until Vi was twitching from overstimulation, weakly trying to push her head away.

Caitlyn finally pulled back, her chin and lips glistening with Vi’s juices. She wiped her mouth with her fingers and sucked them off. She shot Sevika a triumphant look over her shoulder. "Your turn," Caitlyn said, her voice husky.

Sevika didn't hesitate. She was on the bed in an instant, her movements rough and efficient. She grabbed Vi by the hips and effortlessly flipped her over, dragging her up onto her hands and knees. Vi, still trembling from her orgasm, moaned into the pillows, her body pliant, ready for whatever came next.

"My turn," Sevika said, positioning herself behind Vi. She ran a broad, calloused hand over the curve of Vi's ass. If Caitlyn had been a scalpel, Sevika was a fucking sledgehammer. She lined up the thick head of her strap-on with Vi's more than ready entrance and pushed in; a singular slide that left her hips flush with Vi’s ass.

"Ah, Fuck!" Vi shrieked, the sudden fullness sending a shockwave through her system. Sevika wasn't wearing just any harness; it was a heavy, custom-built thing of polished leather and steel, and it was fucking massive. The silicone dick stretching her open was thick and ridged, hitting spots deep inside that Caitlyn’s fingers had only brushed.

Sevika set a punishing pace from the start, her hips snapping forward with bruising force. Her hands gripped Vi’s waist, holding her in place as she used her body, driving into her again and again. The sound of their skin meeting was a loud, rhythmic slap, a stark counterpoint to the slick sounds of Vi's pussy swallowing the toy.

"Taking it so good, aren’t you?” Sevika grunted, her voice strained with exertion. She reached around, her fingers finding Vi's oversensitive clit and rubbing it. "Is this what you needed? A real dick to fuck you stupid?"

Vi could only sob into the pillow, her mind going blank. The pleasure was almost painful, an overload of sensation. Sevika’s grip on her hair, pulling her head back. The dirty words growled in her ear. The relentless pistoning of the strap-on inside her, stretching her, filling her completely. She was already so close again, her body humming like a live wire.

Caitlyn watched, her own breathing a little heavier now. She had settled back into the armchair, her legs elegantly crossed once more. She could see the way Vi’s body responded to Sevika’s brutal efficiency, the way her back arched, the desperate sounds she was making. A different kind of ecstasy, rawer and more primal than the one she had given her. It was... impressive.

Sevika could feel Vi’s orgasm building, the way her pussy started to clench around the dildo. "Don't you dare come yet," she commanded, her grip tightening on Vi’s hips. "You come when I say you can. You're gonna take it. Hold it for me, yeah? You can do it, you strong girl.”

The denial made Vi whimper, a high, needy sound. She tried to hold back, to fight the cresting wave of pleasure, but Sevika was making it impossible. She changed the angle slightly, and the new position had the head of the dick dragging directly over Vi's G-spot with every thrust.

"Please, Sevika, please," Vi begged, her voice broken. She scrunched her nose, "I can't... I'm gonna..."

"Yeah, you're gonna," Sevika snarled. "Now. Come for me, Vi. Fucking drench this shit."

With a guttural scream, Vi shattered. Her arms gave out, and she collapsed face-first onto the bed, her body convulsing as a powerful, shuddering orgasm ripped through her. Her cunt clenched and spasmed around the toy, her release soaking the sheets beneath her. Sevika didn't stop thrusting through it, dragging out the pleasure until Vi was a boneless, quivering mess.

Sevika finally pulled out with a wet squelch, giving Vi's flushed ass a sharp, possessive smack. The fat rippled under the touch of it, leaving a red handprint in its wake. She looked over at Caitlyn, a smug, victorious grin on her face. "Beat that, princess."

Caitlyn’s lips twitched, but her blue eyes held a dark, apologetic expression—not quite a challenge, but a mutual desire to win. She rose from the chair, a different kind of purpose in her stride this time. She didn't head for the bed, but for the drawer in the nightstand. She pulled out a long, elegant vibrator. It was sleek and in the colors gold and green.

She knelt on the bed, gently rolling Vi onto her back. Vi was completely spent, her eyelids fluttering, her limbs heavy. "No more," she slurred, a protest without any force. "Can't. Fuck."

"Oh, I think you can," Caitlyn murmured, her voice a silken threat. She leaned down and kissed Vi, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of Vi's own release and Sevika's victory. Caitlyn’s tongue swept in, claiming Vi's mouth. She broke the kiss, her forehead resting against Vi's. "One more, just for me. Be a good girl."

She turned the vibrator on. The low, powerful hum filled the room. Without any further preamble, she pressed the buzzing head directly against Vi's swollen, hyper-sensitive clit.

Vi's whole body jerked as if she'd been electrocuted. A sharp, choked cry escaped her lips. "Too much! Cait, agh, it's too much!"

"Shhh, I know," Caitlyn soothed, her free hand stroking Vi's damp pink hair. But she didn't move the vibrator. She held it steady, letting the overwhelming sensations wash over Vi. It wasn't about building her up slowly anymore. It was about pushing her past her limits, about remaking pleasure into a form of beautiful, exquisite torture.

Sevika watched, her own breath hitching. She saw the tear that traced a path from the corner of Vi's eye, the way her hands were fisted in the sheets, her knuckles white. Caitlyn began to move the toy in slow, maddening circles. She watched Vi's face intently, gauging her every reaction. She could see the fight in Vi's eyes, the struggle against the onslaught of stimulation. And then she saw the moment the fight left her, the moment her body surrendered completely. Vi gritted her teeth, before succumbing and leaving it open, her jaw slack.

"Look at me, Vi," Caitlyn commanded softly. Vi's hazy eyes struggled to focus on her. "That's it. Just feel it."

Vi’s breath hitched, coming in short, sharp pants. Her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. The pleasure was so intense it was bordering on pain, a wire of euphoric sensation radiating from her clit. She felt another orgasm building, deep and terrifying, something far more powerful than the ones before.

Caitlyn pressed down slightly, increasing the pressure. "You can take more," she whispered, leaning in so her words were a puff of air against Vi's ear. "You will take more."

"Please... please..." Vi's begging was incoherent now, a string of desperate sounds. She wasn't even sure what she was begging for. “Holy fuck Cait, uuggh my god—”

Caitlyn answered by sliding two fingers of her free hand back into Vi's drenched, abused pussy. She curled them, finding that spot again, and began to thrust in time with the circles she was making on her clit. The dual stimulation was devastating.

Vi broke. A high, thin wail tore from her throat as her body seized up. Her back bowed in a perfect, taut arc, her heels digging into the mattress. This orgasm was a fucking explosion. A gush of fluid erupted from her, soaking Caitlyn's hand and the sheets beneath them. A silent scream was frozen on her face as her eyes rolled back, showing only whites. Her entire body convulsed, caught in the throes of a pleasure so absolute it was violent.

It lasted for what felt like an eternity, her muscles locking and spasming. When the crest finally broke, she collapsed, utterly limp. A soft, ragged sob escaped her lips. She was gone, wrecked beyond recognition.

Caitlyn finally, mercifully, turned off the vibrator and tossed it aside. She gently withdrew her fingers, wiping them on Vi's trembling thigh. She looked at her work—Vi, a beautiful, shuddering wreck, her skin flushed a deep pink, her body marked with bites and fingerprints, lying in a soaking wet patch of her own making.

Caitlyn looked up at Sevika, a lazy, satisfied smirk on her glistening lips. "I believe that settles it."

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Vi's ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city. Sevika stared, her usual smirk gone, replaced by a look of grudging, almost shocked, respect. She had seen Vi take a beating in the ring. She had dished them out herself. But she had never seen anyone broken so completely, so thoroughly, by pleasure alone.

Sevika let out a slow breath, a huff of concession. "Alright," she groaned, her voice lower than usual. "You win this round, Cupcake."

Caitlyn’s smirk widened. She leaned over Vi, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Vi flinched slightly, her eyes still squeezed shut, a quiet whimper her only response.

"But don't get too comfortable," Sevika added, her competitive fire not quite extinguished. She moved onto the bed, her large frame dwarfing Vi's smaller one. She didn't touch Vi with intent to arouse, but with a strange, gentle possessiveness. She carefully gathered Vi's limp body into her arms, pulling her against her chest, her chin resting on the top of Vi's pink head. Vi’s head rested on the fabric of the sports bra Sevika was wearing. "Next time, I'm bringing my A-game."

Vi stirred, nuzzling weakly against Sevika's solid warmth. Her eyes cracked open, just a sliver of hazy blue-green. "Next time?" she rasped, her voice a raw, broken thing. "You two are... you're gonna kill me.”

Caitlyn giggled, “Next time,” she purred, caressing her face tattoo with her thumb, “we just might.”

A/N: Hello 🌞 yes yes I haven’t uploaded since January but life got reallll busy. Don’t worry though, I’ll be posting twice or more a day for the next week to make up for it! Keep posted, and send me requests!! Okay, bye 😽

[charayy]

Time off (thank you)

Suga mama series. Previous parts: part one part two

A/n: this part more connects with part one.

“When they try to celebrate Sevika handling a business situation, it gets interrupted. Recently Sevika has been consumed by work so much that Vi feels unprioritized. So, Vi decides to surprise Sevika while she’s working, and she’s determined to get Sevikas mind off of business.”

Sevika x Vi (wc: ~5k) Suga mama series (3/?)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), porn with plot (expedition in the beginning), fingering, vibrator usage, overstimulation, cunnilingus, younger/older woman dynamic, Sugar mommy/baby dynamic. I gave Sevka a last name cuz she doesn’t have one, power dynamic.

It had been about a month since Vi’s stunt. After the night of…punishment Sevika gave Vi, they didn’t talk about the incident much after. Now though, Sevika was able to get an appointment with the woman who had upset Vi, and she was going to speak her mind about it. Sevika was already dressed, a sharp, tailored suit that made her look like the CEO she was. She stood by the large window of their penthouse, the city sprawled out beneath her like a glittering jewel. Vi, was dressed in another matching set of sleepwear, padded over to her, wrapping her arms around Sevika's perfect waist from behind. She could feel the tense set of Sevika's shoulders, the coiled energy thrumming through her body.

"You're going to see her, aren't you?" Vi asked, her voice a sleepy mumble against Sevika's back. Vi knew about Sevikas plan when she overheard her setting up the meeting over the phone with another business guy Vi couldn’t care to remember.

Sevika turned in her arms, her expression unreadable. She cupped Vi's face in her hands, her thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I have to, Vi. You can't go around threatening people. It makes me look bad."

"It makes you look bad?" Vi grumbled, but there was no real heat in her words.

"Yes, it makes me look bad," Sevika said, her voice firm. "It makes me look like I can't control my own fiancée. And that's not an image I can afford to project."

Vi's shoulders slumped, a fresh wave of shame washing over her. “I haven’t done anything that stupid for a while,” Vi said her hands tracing patterns at Sevikas stomach. “Sev, I already told you that I'm sorry," she whispered, the words flying out like she spat them.

"I know you are," Sevika said, her lips brushing against Vi's forehead. "But sorry doesn't fix the problem. I do."

Sevika's office was on the top floor of the city's most prestigious skyscraper, a sprawling space of glass and steel that commanded a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The woman, a stern-faced curator named Genevieve, sat across from Sevika's massive mahogany desk.

Genevieve had, at last, agreed to a meeting. Sevika had not needed to say much. A single, curt email from her personal assistant had been enough to secure an appointment after all this time. The curator, who had previously dismissed Vi's work with a withering glance, now sat in Sevika's office, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, a sheen of sweat on her upper lip.

"I'm a busy woman, Ms. Reddy," Genevieve said, her voice tight. "I don't appreciate being summoned like a common servant."

Sevika leaned back in her leather chair, her steepled fingers resting on her chin. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "And I don't appreciate my fiancée being treated like one," she said, her voice dangerously soft. "Vi is an exceptionally talented artist. Her work is fresh, it's vibrant, it's raw. To dismiss it as …' what was it…’derivative trash' is not only a critical failure, it's a personal insult."

Genevieve scoffed, a short, sharp sound that was meant to be dismissive, but came out as a nervous squeak. "Art is subjective, Ms. Reddy. I was simply giving my professional opinion."

"Your 'professional opinion' nearly caused a scene that would have been... unfortunate for both of us," Sevika said, her eyes narrowing. "Fortunately, I was able to contain the situation. But the damage is done. You've insulted my partner, and by extension, you've insulted me."

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the desk, her gaze pinning Genevieve in place. "I am a woman who values loyalty above all else, Ms. Sterling."

Genevieve paled, the blood draining from her face. She had heard the rumors about Sevika, the whispers of her ruthless business tactics, her unforgiving nature. She had dismissed them as gossip, the petty jealousies of less successful women. Now, sitting in this sterile, intimidating office, she realized they were all true.

"What... what do you want?" Genevieve stammered, her composure finally cracking.

"I want you to make a public apology," Sevika said, her voice flat and cold. "I want you to issue a press release retracting your statements about Vi's work. And I want you to offer her a solo show at your gallery. A proper one, with full promotion and a prime opening night slot."

Genevieve stared at her, her mouth agape. "That's... that's absurd. I can't do that. It would destroy my reputation."

"Your reputation is already in tatters, Genevieve," Sevika lied, a cold, mirthless smile playing on her lips. "You have two choices. You can do as I say, and you might salvage what's left of your career. Or you can refuse, and I will ruin you. I will buy your gallery and turn it into a parking garage for one of my other properties. I will ensure you never work in this city again. I will make sure your name is synonymous with failure."

She paused, letting her words sink in. "The choice is yours."

Genevieve's mind raced, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear and fury.

"Fine," she said, the word tasting like bile in her mouth. "I'll do it."

Sevika leaned back in her chair, a look of grim satisfaction on her face. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement," she said. Sevika flipped through the paperwork on her desk absentmindedly, "My assistant will be in touch with the details. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a more important meeting."

Fully turning her attention to the stack of papers on her desk, she effectively dismissed Genevieve. The curator, humiliated and defeated, rose from her chair and stumbled out of the office, her shoulders tight in defeat.

Sevika watched her go, a cold, rigid look in her eyes. She picked up her phone, her fingers moving with practiced ease over the screen. She sent a quick text to Vi.

Handled it, finally. Don't worry about it anymore. See you tonight.

The city lights percolated into the penthouse, a soft, romantic glow that painted the room in hues of gold and silver. Vi was on the sofa, a sketchbook in her lap, her pencil flying across the page. She was sketching Sevika, capturing the drastic intensity in her grey eyes, the confident set of her jaw, the way that her brown skin held a subtle red hue when she stood near the windows in their home. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't hear the front door open, didn't hear Sevika's footsteps on the wooden floor.

"It's a good likeness," Sevika's voice, a low, husky murmur, made Vi jump. She looked up, a guilty flush creeping up her neck. Sevika was leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, a small, knowing smile on her face.

"I... I was just doodling," Vi stammered, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside.

"Don't be embarrassed," Sevika said, pushing herself off the doorframe and walking towards her. "I like it when you draw me. It means you're thinking about me."

She sat down on the sofa beside Vi, her arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her close. Vi snuggled against her, her head resting on Sevika's shoulder, the familiar warmth of her body a comforting presence.

"I saw your text," Vi said, her voice a soft whisper. "Thanks.”

Sevika's fingers tightened on Vi's shoulder. "You don't have to thank me," she said, her voice a low, serious rumble. "I'd do anything for you, Vi. You know that."

Vi opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it and her jaw became tense. Sevika saw it and raised her eyebrows, suggesting Vi to spit it out.

"Then...then why did you do all that during that night then? You’re not usually as…aggressive during …we—were you not actually mad?" Vi looked up at her, her eyes wide with a dawning understanding.

"Oh, I was mad, darling. Don't get it twisted." Sevika said, her lips curling into a slow, bashful smile. "I was furious. But you know how I get when I'm angry. It's... an energy. And I had to find a way to channel it."

Vi's breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat washing over her. She remembered Sevika's rough hands, the commanding tone in her voice, the overwhelming, all-consuming rhapsody that had left her a quivering, satisfied mess. Even if it had been a while ago.

"So... all that was...?"

"A punishment, yes," Sevika said, her eyes darkening with desire. "But it was also a reminder. A reminder of who's in charge. A reminder of what happens when you misbehave."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against Vi's ear. "And it served as a reminder of how much I love you. Even when you're a reckless, impulsive little thing."

Vi shivered, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. "So... if I do it again..."

"I'll fuck you even harder," Sevika promised, her voice a low, husky whisper. "I'll make you beg for clemency. I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

"Then I don't know if you know how to punish people, Sevika," Vi mumbled, grabbing the drink on the end table and hovering over her lips. "Because now I just want to do that again if that's what's going to happen," Vi mumbled into the glass, taking a large sip, taking an odd liking to the ceiling fixture.

Sevika let out a low, rumbling laugh, a sound that vibrated through Vi's entire body. "Oh, Vi," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could start by kissing me," Vi suggested, setting her glass down and turning to face her.

Sevika didn't need to be told twice. She leaned in, her lips capturing Vi in a tender kiss. As they kissed, Sevika's hand roamed over Vi's body, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of her tattoos, her touch igniting a fresh wave of desire in Vi's core. Vi matched it without hesitation, her hands sliding up Sevika's chest, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck.

Sevika pulled back, her forehead resting against Vi's, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. "You're impossible," she murmured, a small, tired smile playing on her lips.

"But you love me anyway," Vi said, her voice a confident, playful purr.

"Mhm," Sevika said, kissing her cheek. "Sit on my lap, I need to relax after a long work day." Vi obliged, shifting her body onto Sevika's. Her legs were draped over Sevika's thighs, her arms wrapping around Sevika's neck. She nuzzled her face into the crook of Sevika's neck, her breath warm against her skin.

Sevika's arms encircled Vi's waist, holding her close. She leaned her head back, a contented sigh escaping her lips. This was her sanctuary, her solace, the one place in the world where she could let her guard down and just be.

"I missed you today," Vi whispered, her fingers tracing the line of Sevika's collarbone.

"I missed you too," Sevika replied, her fingers stroking Vi's hair. "It was a long day."

"Was it scary?" Vi asked, her voice a soft, curious murmur.

"Scary is not the word I would use," Sevika said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Genevieve is a spineless worm. She folded the second I looked at her."

"You're not going to actually turn her gallery into that parking garage you teased me about, are you?" Vi asked, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"Don't tempt me," Sevika said, her lips curling into a wolf-like smile. "But for now, I think she's learned her lesson. And she's going to give you that solo show. Just like I told her to."

Vi's face lit up, the glimmer in her blue-washed eyes potent. "Really?" she said, pulling back to look at Sevika. "A solo show? At the Devereaux?"

"That's the one," Sevika confirmed, her chest swelling with pride. She loved seeing Vi like this, her complexion alight with joy, her usual fire replaced by delight.

Vi threw her arms around Sevika's neck, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she babbled, her words a jumbled mess of excitement and gratitude.

"You don't have to thank me," Sevika said, her arms wrapping around Vi's waist, holding her close. "You deserve it, Vi. You're the most talented artist I know."

Vi pulled back, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. "I love you," she said, her voice a choked, emotional whisper.

"I love you too," Sevika replied, her lips capturing Vi's once more. She stood up, Vi still in her arms, and carried her towards the bedroom. Vi let out a surprised yelp, her legs wrapping around Sevika's waist instinctively while her arms cling to her neck.

"You know," Sevika said, her lips moving against Vi's temple. "I think you deserve a reward for being so patient while I was at work today."

Vi's breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat washing over her. "Yeah?" she breathed, her hands roaming over Sevika's back. "What kind of reward?"

"The kind that leaves you unable to walk straight for a week," Sevika promised, her voice a low, husky whisper.

Sevika laid her down gently on the bed, her body hovering over Vi's. She looked down at her, her expression a mix of desire and affection. "What do you say, baby?" she murmured, her fingers tracing the line of Vi's jaw. "You want to celebrate your upcoming solo show?"

Vi's response was a slow, deliberate smile. She reached up, her fingers hooking into the collar of Sevika's shirt, pulling her down for a kiss. "I thought you'd never ask," she whispered against Sevika's lips.

Sevika chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that quaked through Vi's entire body. "You're so demanding. Calm down, sweetheart."

"I learned from you, asshole,” Vi retorted, her hands sliding down Sevika's back, her fingers gripping her ass.

While Sevika started to lick and peck at Vi’s neck, her phone started to ring. She ignored it for a couple of seconds, distracted by trying to form a mark on Vi’s neck. But then, her personal ringtone started to blare again, one she reserved for only a few people, and it was urgent. With a frustrated sigh, Sevika pulled back, her grey eyes dark with annoyance.

"Fuck," she muttered, rolling off of Vi and reaching for her phone on the nightstand. "Reddy," she answered, her voice clipped and professional.

Vi let out a whine, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Sevika pace by the bed. She could see the shift in Sevika's demeanor, the way her shoulders tightened, the way her expression hardened. This was business Sevika, not her Sevika.

"What do you mean, 'right now'?" Sevika said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm in the middle of something... No, I understand the urgency... Yes, I'll be there. Give me thirty minutes."

She hung up, throwing her phone onto the bed with a muttered curse. Vi watched her, a pout forming on her lips. "You have to go, don't you?"

Sevika turned to her, her expression a mixture of regret and frustration. "I'm so sorry, Vi," she said, running a hand through her hair. "There's a situation at the office. A hostile takeover attempt. I have to be there."

Vi's shoulders slumped, the disappointment crushing. "A hostile takeover?" she asked, her voice small. "Can't they handle it without you?"

"Apparently not," Sevika said, a wry smile on her face. "It seems my presence is required to scare off the vultures."

She walked over to the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to Vi's forehead. "I promise I'll make it up to you," she murmured, her lips brushing against Vi's skin. "When I get back, we'll pick up right where we left off."

Vi sighed, flopping back onto the bed. "You always say that," she grumbled, but there was no real heat in her words.

"And I always mean it," Sevika said, already shrugging off her suit jacket and reaching for a fresh blouse from the closet. "Now, try to get some sleep. Don't wait up for me. This could take all night."

Vi watched her dress, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of Sevika's body as she buttoned her shirt and cinched her belt. She felt a familiar ache in her chest, seemingly a mix of longing and frustration. She hated it when work got in the way, hated the way it pulled Sevika away from her, leaving her alone in this big, empty penthouse.

Over the past two weeks, their home had started to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a waiting room. Sevika was a ghost, flitting in and out at all hours, her mind perpetually occupied with spreadsheets and strategy meetings. The hostile takeover had become an all-consuming war, and Sevika was its general. The exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, etching new lines around her eyes and turning her usual confident stride into a weary trudge. She'd stumble in well after midnight, smelling of stale coffee and office air, and murmur a half-hearted apology before passing out on the sofa. Intimacy had become a forgotten language. The kisses were perfunctory, a quick peck on the cheek in passing. The hugs were brief, more for Vi's benefit than Sevika's. The only thing getting any real attention was Sevika's glowing laptop screen.

Vi had tried to be patient. She'd made Sevika's favorite meals, only to have them pushed aside, cold and forgotten. She'd tried to entice her with warm baths, but Sevika would just mumble something about a conference call and lock herself in the office. The rejection, even when unintentional, stung. Vi's patience, a virtue she possessed in very short supply, had worn thin, replaced by a restless, simmering irritation. She missed her fiancée. She missed the way Sevika's hands would roam her body, the way her voice would drop to a low growl when she was turned on, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by her. She missed feeling like she was Sevika's priority.

Now, watching the glow of Sevika's laptop screen spill into the darkened living room, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls, Vi decided she'd had enough. It was 11:00 PM. Sevika was hunched over the coffee table, her face illuminated by the harsh blue light, her brow furrowed in concentration. The rhythmic clicking of the keyboard was the only sound in the cavernous room, a stark reminder of the invisible wall that had grown between them.

With a deep, steadying breath, Vi retreated to their bedroom, a plan crystallizing in her mind. She opened the top drawer of her vanity, a treasure trove of silk and lace that Sevika had lavished upon her. Her fingers brushed past the everyday cotton and settled on a set she knew Sevika was particularly fond of. It was a piece of art, really: a balconette bra of the deepest emerald green, the color of old money, trimmed with delicate black French lace. Matching panties, high-cut and scandalously brief, were tethered together by a series of impossibly thin straps that framed her hips and ass. She slipped it on, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat of her skin. She looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror, a smirk playing on her lips. The green set off her pink hair and pale skin, a vibrant, defiant splash of color in the muted light. This was her armor.

She walked back into the living room, her bare feet silent on the cool marble floors. Sevika didn't look up, her eyes glued to a complex chart on the screen.

"Sevika," Vi said, her voice a low, husky murmur.

"Hmm?" Sevika grunted, not even bothering to lift her gaze. "Just one more thing, Vi. This quarterly projection is a mess."

Vi didn't respond with words. Instead, she moved with a deliberate, predatory grace. She approached the coffee table, her movements fluid and silent. Sevika, finally sensing a shift in the atmosphere, looked up. Her eyes widened as they took in Vi's attire, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Her gaze roamed over Vi's body, from the swell of her breasts spilling over the emerald lace, down the plane of her stomach to the intricate web of straps on her hips. A slow, hungry smile tugged at the corner of Sevika's lips, a flicker of the old fire returning to her grey eyes.

But the smile was fleeting. She shook her head, as if to clear it, and her eyes drifted back to the laptop. "God, you look good enough to eat," she murmured, her voice thick with desire but also with a bone-deep weariness. "But this is important. I promise, tomorrow, I'll—"

"Tomorrow is two weeks too late," Vi cut in, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

She took the final step, her knees pressing against the hard surface of the coffee table. She crawled onto it, her movements sinuous and deliberate, the glass cool beneath her hands and knees. The table groaned under her weight, a sound that was swallowed by the silence of the room. She positioned herself directly in front of Sevika, her body a living, breathing barrier between Sevika and her work. The laptop was right in front of her, its screen a beacon of unwanted light.

Slowly, deliberately, Vi reached out. She placed her palms flat on the cool metal of the laptop, her fingers splayed wide. She looked Sevika dead in the eye, a challenge burning in her own. Then, with a decisive snap, she closed the laptop. The click echoed in the quiet room, as loud as a gunshot. The blue glow vanished, plunging the room into a soft intimacy, broken only by the distant city lights.

"Hey!" Sevika protested, her initial shock giving way to a flash of irritation. "Vi, what the hell—"

Vi leaned forward, her face inches from Sevika's. The scent of her perfume, a mix of vanilla and pine, filled the air, a fragrant cloud that overwhelmed the sterile smell of the office. "No," Vi said, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "You've been married to that fucking thing for fourteen days. For fourteen nights, I've gone to bed alone. I am not going to be second best to a dumbass computer."

She shifted her weight, straddling Sevika's lap, her knees pressing into the sofa cushions on either side of Sevika's thighs. She could feel the tense muscles of Sevika's legs through the thin fabric of her sleep pants. She ground her hips down, a slow, deliberate circle, her barely-clad pussy pressing against Sevika's groin. She felt Sevika's sharp intake of breath, the way her body went rigid beneath her.

"Vi," Sevika warned, but the name came out strangled, thin.

"You're going to look at me," Vi commanded, her hands sliding up Sevika's chest, her fingers tracing the neckline of her shirt. "You're going to touch me. And you're going to remind me why I put up with all this bullshit."

She leaned in and captured Sevika's lips in a demanding kiss. It’s the opposite of gentle. Her teeth nipped at Sevika's lower lip, her tongue forcing its way into her mouth. Sevika resisted for a moment, her hands coming up to grip Vi's waist, a gesture meant to push her away. But then she gave in. A deep groan rumbled in her chest, a sign of her surrender. Her hands tightened on Vi's hips, pulling her closer, grinding her up against the aching heat between her own legs. Her tongue met Vi's, no longer fighting but dancing, a raw, hungry battle for dominance.

Vi pulled back, panting, her chest heaving. She could see the conflict warring in Sevika's eyes, the remnants of responsibility fighting against a much more primal want.

"Let me take care of you," Vi whispered, her lips brushing against Sevika's ear. She reached down, her fingers fumbling with the drawstring of Sevika's pants. "You've been taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you for a change."

She slipped her hand inside Sevika's pants, her fingers finding the wet heat of her pussy. Sevika gasped, her head falling back against the sofa cushions.

"Fuck, Vi," she breathed, her hips bucking involuntarily against Vi's hand.

Vi smiled, a slow, triumphant smirk. She began to move her fingers, a slow, teasing rhythm. She circled Sevika's clit, her touch light and feathery, before sliding down to gather her wetness and then back up again. She watched Sevika's face, the way her eyes fluttered closed, the way her lips parted in a silent moan. This was the power she held, the power to unravel this formidable woman, to reduce her to a quivering, wanting mess.

She slipped two fingers inside Sevika, a slow, deliberate intrusion. Sevika's pussy clenched around her, a hot, greedy welcome. Vi curled her fingers, finding that spongy, sensitive spot deep inside her. She began to pump her hand, her thumb circling Sevika's clit in a matching rhythm.

"Look at me," Vi demanded, her voice husky. Sevika's eyes fluttered open, hazy with desire. "You look so handsome when I’m doing this to you."

Sevika's response was a choked gasp, her hips rising to meet Vi's thrusts. The sight of Vi, her pink hair a wild fan around her face, her body clad in that sinful green lace, her hand buried deep inside her, was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. The stress of the past two weeks, the weight of the takeover, the endless meetings... it all melted away, replaced by a burning surge of euphoria.

Vi increased her pace, her fingers moving faster, harder. She leaned down, her lips trailing a hot, wet path down Sevika's neck. She bit down on the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, a hard, possessive bite that was sure to leave a mark.

"Come for me, please." she murmured against her skin.

Finally, the pleasure of it all coalesced into a blinding orgasm that tore through Sevika's body like a tidal wave. Her back arched, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. Her pussy clenched and spasmed around Vi's fingers, a hot rush of wetness coating her hand. Vi slowed her movements, milking every last drop of pleasure from her, her own breath coming in ragged pants.

She watched Sevika's face as she came down from her high, her features slack with satisfaction, her grey eyes hazy and unfocused. A triumphant smirk played on Vi's lips.

Sevika let out a low, breathless laugh, a sound that was a mix of amusement and pure, unadulterated pleasure. "You fucking sneaky bitch," she murmured, her voice a husky rasp. She reached up, her hand tangling in Vi's pink hair, pulling her down for a slow, deep kiss. "You planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe," Vi purred, nipping at Sevika's lower lip. "Is it working?"

"Oh, it's working," Sevika confirmed, her hands moving to grip Vi's hips. She shifted her weight, her strength surprising Vi as she stood up, lifting Vi with her as if she weighed nothing. Vi let out a surprised yelp, her legs automatically wrapping around Sevika's waist.

"But now," Sevika said, her lips brushing against Vi's ear, "it's my turn."

Her intent was clear: the bedroom, the big bed, the proper, luxurious setting this reunion deserved. But the journey was short-lived. Sevika's legs, weakened by her intense orgasm, were still unsteady. They made it only a few steps before her knees buckled. With a soft grunt of effort, she stumbled and lowered them both onto the plush rug in front of the sofa. The fall was clumsy, a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter, the grand romantic gesture dissolving into something far more real and endearing. Sevika's forehead came to rest on Vi's shoulder, her body trembling slightly from the exertion and the lingering aftershocks of her climax.

Vi looked down at her, a pout already forming on her lips. "Well, that was graceful," she teased, but her tone was soft, her hands coming up to stroke Sevika's hair.

"Shut up," Sevika mumbled into her shoulder, a weary but happy sigh escaping her lips. "My legs are jelly. You did this to me."

She pushed herself up, her arms shaking slightly. She looked at Vi, a fire rekindling in her grey eyes, a look of gratitude and a burning desire to return the favor. "Here," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "On the couch. I'm not done with you."

She maneuvered Vi onto the sofa, positioning her so that she was lying back against the cushions, her legs draped over the edge. Sevika knelt on the floor between Vi's thighs, her gaze sweeping over her, taking in the sight of her spread out before her, the emerald lace a stark, beautiful contrast against her skin.

"You are so beautiful," Sevika murmured, her hands tracing the delicate straps of Vi's lingerie. "And so, so impatient."

"You were ignoring me," Vi retorted, her petulant tone at odds with the way her body arched into Sevika's touch.

"I know," Sevika said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And I'm sorry."

She leaned in, her lips pressing a soft, apologetic kiss to Vi's inner thigh. Vi shivered, her breath hitching in her throat. Sevika's kisses were a slow, deliberate trail of fire, moving closer and closer to the heat between her legs. She could feel the tension coiling in Vi's body, the way her muscles tightened in anticipation.

"Sevika, please," Vi whimpered, her hands gripping the sofa cushions.

"Patience, my love," Sevika murmured, her breath warm against Vi's sensitive skin.

Finally, her lips found their destination. She pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Vi's pussy, her tongue darting out to taste her. Vi cried out, her hips bucking off the sofa. Sevika's hands came up to hold her down, her fingers digging into Vi's hips in a firm, grounding grip.

She began to eat Vi out with a slow, practiced thoroughness. Her tongue explored every inch of her, from her dripping entrance to the hard, sensitive bundle of her clit. She was gentle, but relentless, her movements a steady, rhythmic pressure that built a slow, burning fire in Vi's core. Vi's whimpers turned to moans, her hands tangling in Sevika's dark hair, pulling her closer.

"Fuck, Sevika, right there," Vi gasped, her body writhing beneath her. "Don't stop."

Sevika had no intention of stopping. She could feel Vi's pussy clenching, her thighs trembling around her head. She knew Vi was close, but she wasn't going to let her come just yet. She wanted to draw this out, to make her beg for it.

She pulled back, a smirk playing on her lips. Vi let out a frustrated whine, her eyes flying open.

"Why'd you stop?" she pouted, her chest heaving.

"Because I want to try something," Sevika said, her voice a low, husky murmur. She reached over to the small drawer in the coffee table, the one where they kept their more... intimate toys. She pulled out a sleek, silver vibrator, its surface smooth and cool to the touch. "This."

Vi's eyes widened, apprehension coiling in her bones."Oh."

"Trust me," Sevika said, her gaze softening. She leaned in and kissed Vi, a slow, tender kiss that tasted of her own arousal. "You're going to love this."

She settled back between Vi's thighs, her fingers parting her folds, exposing her clit. She turned on the vibrator, a low, steady hum filling the room. She brought it down, letting the tip rest against Vi's clit.

Vi gasped, her body arching off the sofa. The sensation was overwhelming, rhapsody shoots through her like lightning. Sevika watched her face, a look of intense concentration on her own. She held the vibrator steady, her other hand coming up to slide two fingers into Vi's slick, welcoming heat.

"Sevika," Vi whimpered, her hands fisting in the sofa cushions. "I... I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Sevika encouraged, her fingers curling inside Vi, finding that spot that made her see stars. She began to move her hand in a slow, steady rhythm, her other hand keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against Vi's clit.

The dual stimulation was too much. Vi could feel the pressure building, a tsunami of bliss that was about to crash over her. Her body tensed, her breath caught in her throat.

"Sevika, I'm... I'm gonna..."

Sevika let up slowly, letting the vibrator hover over her clit as she slowed her fingers. Vi let out a series of gushes onto the cushions, small waves that slowly died out. “Fuuuck…”

After they subsided, Sevika continued her ministrations. Vi looked up at her—or really, tried—while Sevika curled her fingers at that perfect spot while putting more pressure on the vibrator.

Vi whines and pouts, her hands gripping the edge of the couch for dear life. Her eyes twitch a bit before she spurts out more liquid without warning. Sevika lets up again, letting the arousal leak onto the cushions again.

“Keep doing that for me, baby. I love when you make a mess like that,” Sevika cooed, kissing Vi’s forehead before she pressed down again.

“Sev—baby—ugh,” Vi gasped, unable to keep eye contact and instead watched the assault happening on her cunt.

Sevika started to move her fingers, thrusting gently, her touch both firm and tender. Her gaze was locked on Vi's face, watching the emotions play across her features: the initial shock, the building pleasure, the desperate need for more. The silver vibrator was a constant, low hum against her clit, a relentless pulse that was pushing her closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.

She watched as Vi’s pussy started to flutter around her fingers, the first sign that another wave was building. Sevika expertly angled her wrist, her knuckles pressing against Vi's entrance, a subtle shift in pressure that she knew drove Vi wild. The effect was instantaneous. Vi's back arched off the sofa, a choked gasp tearing from her throat. A fresh gush of arousal spilled from her, coating Sevika's hand and dripping onto the already damp cushion. Sevika paused, letting the wave crash over Vi, her touch a steady, reassuring presence.

Vi lay panting, her chest heaving, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. She glanced down at Sevika with that dangerous scared begging look on her face."You're... you're trying to kill me, m’fucking me this good," she managed to gasp, “why are you doing this to me?”

Sevikas knees almost buckled when she heard the words stumble out of Vi’s mouth. She never stops, in fact she goes harder, constantly curling and scissoring her fingers in Vi’s pussy while the vibrator slides up and down her clit.

“Because it’s fun to see you like this, baby,” Sevika rasped, her free hand moving up to cup Vi’s breast, her thumb brushing against the hardened peak of her nipple through the emerald lace. "And because I love the way you respond to me."

Vi could only moan in response, her hips bucking against Sevika's hand. The pleasure was overwhelming, a constant, throbbing pulse that was centered on her clit and radiated outwards, consuming her entire body. Sevika was relentless, her fingers and the vibrator working in perfect harmony to push her closer and closer to the edge, only to pull back at the last second, leaving her hanging in a state of breathless anticipation.

It was a delicious torture. Every time Vi thought she couldn't take anymore, Sevika would find a new way to stoke the fire, a new angle, a new pressure point that sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through her veins. The couch was soaked beneath her, a testament to Sevika's skill and her own body's willing surrender.

She looked down at Sevika, her vision hazy with desire. She saw the intense focus in Sevika's grey eyes, the way her lips were parted in concentration, the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. She saw the love and the desire and the absolute pride in her expression. This wasn't just about sex, she realized. This was Sevika reminding her, in the most visceral way possible, that she was seen, that she was cherished, that she was the center of Sevika's world.

And in that moment, the stubborn, pouty façade that Vi so often wore crumbled, replaced by a raw, vulnerable need. "Sevika," she whispered, her voice a choked, emotional plea. "*I wanna come…urrrgh, let me come…”*

Sevika looked up at her, her expression softening. She could see the desperation in Vi's eyes, the way her body was trembling with the effort of holding back. She knew she had pushed her far enough. It was time to give her what she wanted.

"Okay, baby," she murmured, her voice a low, husky whisper. "Come for me,please."

She didn't change her technique, but she did increase the pressure, her fingers curling inside Vi with a firm, decisive pressure, the silver vibrator pressing harder against her clit. Vi's body went rigid, her back arching off the sofa in a perfect curve. A silent scream tore from her throat, her eyes wide and unfocused. A powerful, gushing wave of pleasure ripped through her, her pussy clamping down on Sevika's fingers like a vise. It wasn't just a trickle this time; it was a flood, a hot, release that soaked Sevika's hand, her wrist, and the couch cushion beneath them. The sheer force of it left Vi trembling, her limbs weak and boneless.

Sevika didn't stop. She kept her fingers buried deep inside Vi, her thumb stroking her clit in slow, soothing circles, helping her ride out the waves of her orgasm. She watched her face, her expression a mixture of awe and adoration. She had never seen anything more beautiful than Vi, completely lost in pleasure, her body a testament to the power of their connection.

As the jerking died off, Vi collapsed back onto the sofa, her chest heaving, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. She felt a strange sense of emptiness as Sevika slowly withdrew her fingers, a feeling that was quickly replaced by a warm, comforting weight as Sevika stretched out beside her, pulling her into her arms.

They lay there for a long moment, their bodies entwined, the only sound in the room their combined breathing. The city lights glittered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, a silent, indifferent audience to their intimacy.

"I win," Vi mumbled into Sevika's chest, her words a sleepy, triumphant whisper.

Sevika let out a low, breathless laugh, her arms tightening around Vi. "You always win, baby," she murmured, her lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of Vi's head. "You know that."

She shifted, her hand moving to tilt Vi's chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze. Her grey eyes were soft, the exhaustion replaced by a warm, glowing affection. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice a low, sincere rumble. "I've been a terrible partner lately."

Vi's pout returned, though it was softer now, a familiar, endearing quirk rather than a genuine sign of anger. "You have," she agreed, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Sevika's chest. "You're married to your laptop. You smell like spreadsheets."

"I know," Sevika said, a wry smile on her face. "But if I'm not married to my laptop, then I can't buy you those ridiculous overpriced art supplies you love. Or take you to Paris for the weekend on a whim because you're bored. Or make sure that some uptight curator gives you the solo show you've been dreaming of."

She paused, her expression turning serious. "I do all this for you, Vi. Everything I do, I do for us."

Vi's pout softened further, the corners of her lips turning down into a thoughtful frown. She knew Sevika was right. She loved the lifestyle they had, the freedom, the security. She loved the way Sevika's hard work translated into tangible benefits for her. But a part of her, the insecure, attention-starved part that Sevika had so carefully nurtured, still needed more.

"I know," Vi whispered, her head resting on Sevika's shoulder. "I know you do. But I'd rather live in a shitty little apartment with you than in this penthouse alone."

Sevika's heart swelled, a wave of warmth washing over her. She pulled Vi closer, her arms wrapping around her in a tight, protective embrace. "You're not going to have to live in a shitty little apartment," she murmured, her lips brushing against Vi's hair. "But you're also not going to be alone anymore. I promise."

She tilted Vi's chin up, her gaze holding hers. "The takeover is almost over. A few more days, a week at most. And then I'm all yours. No more late nights, no more emergency calls. Just you and me."

"You promise?" Vi asked, her voice a hopeful whisper.

"I promise," Sevika confirmed, her lips capturing Vi's in a slow, tender kiss. "I'll even take a vacation. We can go anywhere you want. Paris, Tokyo, a beach in the middle of nowhere. As long as I'm with you, I don't care where we are."

Vi's face lit up, a genuine, radiant smile spreading across her lips. "Really? Anywhere?"

"Anywhere," Sevika said, a matching smile on her face. "Name it, and we'll go."

"Okay," Vi said, her mind already racing with possibilities. "I want to go to that island in Greece you showed me. The one with the blue roofs and the white sand."

"Then we'll go to Greece," Sevika said, her decision made. "As soon as this is over, we'll book the tickets."

Vi threw her arms around Sevika's neck, hugging her tightly. "You're the best," she mumbled into her shoulder.

"I know," Sevika said, her lips curling into a smug smile. "But I'm also the best at spoiling you, so you better get used to it."

"I'm already used to it," Vi said, pulling back to look at her. "But I'm also used to having you around. So you better get used to that, too."

"I'm working on it," Sevika said, her eyes softening. "Now, how about we get you cleaned up? And then we can go to bed. For real this time."

Vi nodded, a sleepy contentment settling over her. She let Sevika help her up, her legs still a little shaky from the intense orgasms. The couch was a mess, a testament to their passion, but Vi couldn't bring herself to care. All she cared about was the woman standing beside her, her arm wrapped around her waist, her love a warm, steady presence.

A/N: if anyone was wondering why I’ didn’t post a Christmas special was because I was working, and I didn’t know what to post that catered to it. I’m thinking of doing a couple x readers with these two, then make a head canon post listed in my master list. Reminder that I do request! I’m open to about anything. Thank you!

Suga mama series masterlist here!

[charayy]

speaking of top vi x bottom sevika, can u do gp vi x sevika for a change? i only see gp sevika. i wanna see gp vi x sevika too, please. thank u

Hi lovely! I got you 😉 your request was written here! 💛

[charayy]

XO

“Vi uses Sevikas thigh to get herself off. Sevika enjoys it.”

Sevika x Vi fic (wc:800)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), tribbing, established relationship, older/younger woman dynamic.

It started with a twitch. A subtle shift of Vi's hips, a press of her thighs. Sevika, focused on the screen tv, felt it more than saw it, a disturbance in the gravitational pull of their cuddle. Then another, more deliberate. A roll of Vi's pelvis against Sevika's thigh, a friction-seeking motion that was impossible to misinterpret. A soft huff of breath ghosted across Sevika's collarbone.

Sevika didn't look down. She let her hand, which had been resting on Vi's hip, remain lax and heavy. She waited, letting Vi build up the courage, letting the tension coil.

Finally, Vi whined, a low, frustrated sound. "Fuck, I'm... I need something."

A slow smile spread across Sevika's face. She could feel the heat baking off Vi's skin, even through their clothes. "Yeah? What do you need, baby?"

"Fuck you," Vi shot back, but there was no venom in it. She tried to still her hips, to clamp down on the urge, but her body betrayed her, rolling against Sevika's solid leg once more. Her shorts, already threadbare, did little to hide the damp heat pressing against the bare skin of Sevikas thigh. Her clit, hard and aching, was a frantic pulse against the seam of the fabric.

Sevika chuckled, a soothy, velvety sound. She shifted her leg, creating a firmer, more unyielding surface. "No, fuck you. Right here." She patted her thigh. "Go on. Use me. Take what you need."

Vi's breath hitched. She lifted her head, her eyes wide and dark, searching Sevika's face for any sign of mockery. All she found was a lazy, confident hunger. The challenge hung in the air, thick and intoxicating.

"Come on," Sevika coaxed, her voice dropping to a low murmur against Vi's hair. "Don't be shy. I know you're not shy. Ride my thigh. Rub that pretty little pussy all over me until you're shaking."

A flush bloomed across Vi's cheeks, but the permission, the directness of the command, shattered her last bit of restraint. With a groan of pure relief, she swung her leg over, straddling Sevika's thigh. The change in position was electric. Her clothed cunt pressed flush against Sevika's bare skin, separated only by the thin, soaked material of her shorts.

Vi set a hesitant rhythm, rocking her hips, grinding down. The friction was immediate, a delicious, overwhelming wave of pleasure that made her toes curl. Each drag of her clit against the firm muscle of Sevika's thigh sent sparks skittering up her spine.

"That's it," Sevika praised, her hands coming to rest on Vi's waist, guiding her, encouraging the motion. "Just like that. Fuck, look at you." Her thumb stroked over the sensitive skin just above Vi's waistband. "Harder. Don't tease yourself. Keep going."

Vi whimpered, her movements becoming more desperate, more erratic. She chased the pleasure, her clit a swollen, needy pearl of nerves. She could feel the fabric of her shorts growing slicker, her arousal soaking through, leaving a damp, warm trail on Sevika's skin. The thought made a fresh wave of heat wash over her.

“Vika…shit…” Vi sighed, her head nodding forward.

"Yeah, that's my girl," Sevika hummed, her hands sliding down to grip Vi's ass, squeezing the firm muscle, using the leverage to pull Vi down more forcefully against her. "Ride me. Use my fucking thigh. Make yourself feel good."

The words were gasoline on a fire. Vi's head fell back now, her eyes fluttering shut. She was lost to the sensation, the shameless, raw act of using Sevika's body for her own pleasure. Her breaths came in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds from the television.

"Vika, fuck baby..." she gasped, the name a broken plea. "Fuck, I'm so close."

"I know, baby, I know," Sevika murmured, her voice a shady, rich balm. "Let go. I want to feel it. I want to feel this pretty little thing pulse against me when you come. Come on, Vi. Give it to me."

With a cry that was a dangerous whine, Vi shattered. Her hips stuttered, her back arching as her orgasm crashed through her. It was an all-consuming surge over her body, leaving her trembling and boneless. She collapsed against Sevika's chest, her face buried in the crook of her neck, her body still twitching with aftershocks.

Sevika held her through it, one hand stroking her sweat-damp hair, the other resting possessively on the small of her back. She let Vi catch her breath, letting the silence settle back over them, thicker now, warmer.

"Goddamn," Vi mumbled into her skin, her voice muffled and hoarse. "Fuck."

Sevika just chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah. That's what I like to see." After a moment, she nudged Vi gently. "Hey. Look at me."

Slowly, Vi pushed herself up, her movements sluggish. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy and unfocused, her pink hair a mess. She looked thoroughly, beautifully wrecked.

Sevika reached out, her thumb tracing Vi's lower lip, swollen from being bitten. Then her eyes dropped, a slow, deliberate movement, to the dark, wet patch left on her thigh. A visible proof of Vi's desperation. Of her pleasure.

"Messy," she said, her voice low and satisfied. She smirked, showcasing her tooth gap. “I love it."

Vi's blush deepened, a rare, vulnerable flicker in her usual defiant expression. "Shut up," she muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

"Please, make me," Sevika challenged, a smirk playing on her lips. She shifted, lifting her leg slightly. "Or better yet, clean it up."

Vi's breath hitched. The unspoken command hung in the air between them, charged and potent. She stared at Sevika's thigh, at the gleaming slick of her own arousal. Hesitantly, she leaned down, her tongue darting out to taste.

The flavor was sharp, tangy, uniquely her. The act was filthy, intimate, and sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to her core. Sevika watched her, hooded eyes completely focused on the sight, her breathing growing shallow.

"Good girl," Sevika praised, her voice a husky rasp. "Lick it all up. Every last drop."

[charayy]

ROCKET

“Sevika catches Vi’s eye at a party. One thing leads to another and now they’re fucking upstairs.”

Sevika x Vi fic (wc: 1.8k)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), g!pVi/ trans!Vi, cunnilingus, older woman/younger woman.

A/N: This was a request. It was basically saying how there’s not a lot of trans!Vi. So I had to do something. The request is here. Enjoy!

The bass thumped through the floorboards, a relentless heartbeat against the soles of Vi’s scuffed-up boots. The house was a mess of sweaty bodies and spilt beer, a familiar playground she was starting to find boring. She leaned against a doorframe, arms crossed, a beer bottle dangling loose from her fingers. She felt more annoyed than energized, watching the spectacle of intoxicated youth with a cynical eye. Then she saw her.

Across the room, leaning against the opposite wall like she owned the whole damn place, was a woman who didn’t belong. She was older, maybe early thirties, with sharp, knowing eyes that swept over the crowd like a predator observing prey. She held a tumbler of something dark and amber, her knuckles scarred, a cigarette smoldering between two fingers. She was all coiled power and simmering tension, a stark contrast to the giggling, stumbling mess around her. Vi’s boredom evaporated, replaced by a hot, sharp interest.

She pushed off the doorframe, the movement made of pure muscle and cut a direct path through the throng. People parted for her, sensing the focused intent. She stopped right in the older woman’s space, close enough to smell the scents of tobacco and whiskey.

“Don’t see many fossils at these kinds of parties,” Vi said, her voice a low, challenging purr. She took a deliberate swig of her beer, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face. “You lost?”

The woman’s lips quirked, a slow, almost lazy smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She took a long drag from her cigarette, blew the smoke not at Vi, but just past her ear. The grey tendrils curled in the air between them. “Fossil?” she repeated, a gravelly rumble left her throat that vibrated right through Vi’s chest. The woman had a voice that could read the phone book and make it sound filthy. “That’s a new one. You got a name, smart-ass?”

“Vi.” She jutted her chin out, a classic show of defiance. “And you?”

“Sevika.”

Vi tested the name on her tongue, liking the feel of it. “Well, Sevika. You’re a little old to be crashing college parties, aren’t you?”

“Just needed a change of scenery,” Sevika countered, her gaze dropping to Vi’s lips, then back up to her eyes. The look was so direct, so devoid of shame, it sent a pang straight to Vi’s groin. “And what about you? Besides trying to pick fights with the older generation?”

“Trying to find something interesting.” Vi’s stare was just as bold. “Looks like I might have found it.”

Sevika didn’t smile, but something in her expression shifted, sharpened. She crushed her cigarette out in a nearby potted plant, a casual act of disregard. “This room’s too loud for a conversation.” She nodded towards a dimly lit hallway. “There’s a spare bedroom down the hall. Let’s see how interesting you really are.”

The invitation hung in the air, thick with promise. Vi didn’t need to be told twice. She drained the last of her beer, leaving the bottle on a nearby table, and followed Sevika’s retreating back. Her eyes were fixed on the confident sway of her hips, the way her dark hair fell over the collar of her leather jacket. The bass from the party faded to a dull thud as they moved down the hall, the sounds muffled by closing doors.

Sevika pushed open the last door on the left. The room was dark, save for the streetlights filtering through a grimy window. It smelled like dirt and stale laundry. Neither of them cared. The moment the door clicked shut, the space became their own private world.

Vi didn’t give her a chance to say a word. She grabbed the front of Sevika’s jacket, pulling her close and crashing their mouths together. Sevika tasted of whiskey and smoke, a flavor that was intoxicating for the younger woman. Sevika met Vi’s aggression with her own, one hand tangling roughly in Vi’s pink hair, yanking her head back to deepen the kiss.

Vi’s other hand slid down Sevika’s body, gripping her ass, pulling their hips flush together. She could feel the heat between them, even through layers of clothing. She was already half-hard, the confined pressure of her jeans a sweet agony. She wanted to be inside this woman, wanted to see that cool, collected control shatter.

She broke the kiss, panting, and pushed Sevika back towards the bed. Sevika’s legs hit the frame, and she fell onto the mattress with a soft thump. Her eyes were low, her lips swollen and glistening. She watched as Vi yanked her own shirt over her head, revealing a lean, muscular torso covered in a faint map of old scars.

“Come on then,” Sevika rasped, her voice husky. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Vi grinned, a predator’s flash of teeth. She climbed onto the bed, straddling Sevika’s waist, and leaned down to bite at her neck, right where it met her shoulder. Sevika gasped, her hands flying to Vi’s back, her nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent marks. Vi worked at Sevika’s jeans, the button and zipper giving way under her insistent fingers. She tugged them down over Sevika’s hips, revealing simple black underwear that did nothing to hide the damp spot already forming at the gusset.

“Already wet for me, oldie?” Vi taunted, her breath hot against Sevika’s ear.

Sevika just grunted in response, bucking her hips up in a silent demand.

Vi obliged, pulling the underwear aside and sinking two fingers into the slick, waiting heat of her pussy. Sevika was incredibly wet, and the sound of Vi’s fingers moving inside her was obscene in the quiet room. Vi’s thumb found Sevika’s clit, circling it with a firm, steady pressure that had Sevika’s breath hitching.

“Fuck,” Sevika breathed out, her head falling back against the pillows. “More.”

Vi added a third finger, stretching her, her own dick throbbing in anticipation. She wanted to be in there, to feel that tight, wet heat wrapped around her. But she wasn’t done teasing yet. She wanted to see Sevika completely undone, to hear her beg. She curled her fingers, searching for that special spot inside, and was rewarded when Sevika cried out, her back arching off the bed.

“Right there, fuck, right there…”

Vi smirked, a triumphant sound. She leaned down, her lips brushing against Sevika’s ear. “You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice a low hum. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”

Sevika’s only response was a strangled moan, her hands fisting in the sheets.

Vi pulled her fingers out, ignoring Sevika’s heave of protest. She quickly shed her own jeans and boxers, her dick springing free, hard and already leaking pre-come. She stroked herself a few times, her eyes locked on Sevika’s. Sevika watched, her chest heaving, her legs falling open wider in a clear invitation.

But Vi wasn’t ready to take the final step. Not yet. She shifted down the bed, settling between Sevika’s thighs. She inhaled deeply, the musky, feminine scent of Sevika’s arousal filling her senses. She leaned in, her tongue darting out to taste. Sevika’s hips jumped off the bed. “Jesus, Vi…”

Vi grinned, then buried her face in Sevika’s pussy. She ate her out with a ferocity that matched her earlier aggression, her tongue lapping at her clit, her lips sucking, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. She was relentless, her movements skilled and sure, a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. She slid her fingers back inside, curling them against that spot again and again, pushing Sevika closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Sevika gasped, her hands flying to Vi’s hair, holding her in place. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Vi didn’t. She doubled her efforts, her tongue working faster, her fingers pumping harder. And then Sevika was coming, her body convulsing, a loud, uninhibited cry tearing from her throat. Vi rode out her orgasm, her tongue gentling, her fingers slowing, milking every last drop of pleasure from her.

When Sevika finally collapsed against the sheets, her body limp and trembling, Vi crawled back up her body. She captured Sevika’s lips in a slow, deep kiss, letting her taste her own release. Vi reached over the side of the bed, fumbling in the pocket of her discarded jeans. Her fingers closed around the familiar foil packet. She tore it open with hot fingers, rolling the condom down her length with practiced ease. Sevika watched her, her gaze hungry, her legs quivering

“Come on, Vi,” Sevika urged, her voice a low growl. “do something.”

Vi lined herself up, the head of her dick nudging against Sevika’s pussy. She pushed in slowly, an inch at a time, savoring the way Sevika’s body stretched to accommodate her. Sevika’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Vi’s shoulders, her nails digging in once more. She was so fucking tight, a perfect, slick heat that wrapped around Vi’s dick like a custom-made glove.

Vi bottomed out, her hips flush against Sevika’s. She paused for a moment, giving Sevika a chance to adjust, to get used to the fullness. She looked down at her, at the way her hair was splayed out across the pillows, at the flush on her cheeks, at the dark, desperate look in her eyes. She was beautiful, like this.

“Move,” Sevika commanded, her voice a strained whisper.

Vi didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, setting a punishing, relentless rhythm. The bed creaked in protest, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room, a raw, primal soundtrack to their fucking. Vi braced her hands on either side of Sevika’s head, her muscles straining, her body a coiled spring of power and control. She watched Sevika’s face, watched the pleasure and pain chase each other across her features, her lips parted in a silent gasp.

Sevika met her thrust,her hips rising to meet Vi’s, her legs wrapping around Vi’s waist, pulling her deeper. She was an active participant, not a passive receiver. She arched her back, her full breasts pressing against Vi’s chest, her nipples hard little points. Vi leaned down, capturing one in her mouth, biting down gently, then soothing the sting with her tongue.

“Harder,” Sevika gasped, her hands tangling in Vi’s hair again, pulling hard enough to sting.

Vi obliged, her thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. She was close, the knot of pleasure tightening in her stomach, her balls drawing up tight against her body. She wanted to come, wanted to fill this woman up, to mark her as her own, even with the barrier of latex between them. She reached down, her thumb finding Sevika’s clit again, rubbing it in tight, fast circles.

“Come for me, Sevika,” Vi growled, her voice a low command. “Come on my dick.”

Sevika’s body tensed, her back arching off the bed, a long, drawn-out cry tearing from her throat. Her pussy clamped down on Vi’s dick, a series of tight, rhythmic contractions that sent Vi hurtling over the edge with her. She came with a hiccuped groan, her hips pistoning, her dick pulsing as she emptied herself into the condom.

She collapsed onto Sevika, her body slick with sweat, her heart hammering against her ribs. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing, the frantic race of their hearts slowing down.

Finally, Vi pushed herself up, pulling out carefully. She dealt with the condom, tying it off and tossing it towards the small trash can in the corner. When she turned back, Sevika was watching her, her expression unreadable.

Vi expected the awkwardness to set in, the inevitable post-coital silence. But Sevika just reached out, her fingers tracing the line of Vi’s jaw.

“Not bad,” Sevika said, her voice a low murmur. Sevika nodded, as if she was having a conversation with herself in her head. “Not bad at all.”

Vi smirked, a surge of pride warming her chest. “Just ‘not bad’? I think I deserve a little more credit than that.”

Sevika’s lips curved into a slow, lazy smile. “Alright. You fuck like you still don't have to worry about your back giving out,” She pulled Vi down for another kiss, this one slow and deep, a stark contrast to their earlier frenzy. “It was exactly what I needed, to be honest.”

“Yeah?” Vi asked, her voice softer now, the usual sharpness replaced by a genuine curiosity.

“Yeah.” Sevika’s hand slid down Vi’s back, her touch possessive. “I haven’t been properly fucked in a long time.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Vi replied, a playful lilt in her voice.

Sevika laughed, gathering her clothes to return to the party outside. “Don’t get cocky.”

[charayy]

Heyy, can i request a g!p sevika x sub bratty vi with daddy kink? its okay if you're not comfortable with writing it though!

Heyyy finally got back to work. Your fic request is here! Enjoyy 💛

[charayy]

Ego

“Vi loves to piss Sevika off. Sevika loves to piss Vi off. So, they both take their anger out on each other in bed.”

Sevika x Vi fic (wc:2.3k)

Tags: adult content (explicit sex), HEAVY daddy kink, trans!sevika/ g!p sevika, rough sex, brat!Vi, overstimulation, choking, spitting, hair pulling. Freaky! Not for everyone.

A/N: another requesttt! This was the request. I hope you enjoy!

The headboard slammed against the wall, a percussive beat to match the ragged sounds tearing from Vi's throat. Vi's nails scored down Sevika's back, a burning protest that only earned her a sharper, deeper angle that made her vision white out.

"You wanted me to fucking apologize so bad," Sevika grunted, her voice a low buzz against Vi's ear. Her mechanical arm, cool and unforgiving, clamped around Vi's hip, holding her in place for the merciless rhythm. "Now you're getting your apology."

"Fuck you," Vi spat, but it was wrecked, breathy. She arched her back, trying to throw Sevika off, a foolish, useless attempt at control. "Thought you had to work late. Fucking liar,” she mumbled out, trying to find every ounce in her body to fight back.

That was it. The whole stupid fight. Sevika had promised to be home by seven. Eight passed, then nine. Vi, worked up and pissing herself off. Vi had met Sevika at the door with a tirade that had devolved into this—Sevika stripping her with furious efficiency, throwing her onto the bed, and fucking that annoying ass attitude out of her. Or trying to. Vi, even with her pussy stretched and clenching helplessly around Sevika's dick, wasn't ceding an inch.

A large hand, warm and calloused, wrapped around Vi's throat, squeezing just enough to make her head swim. "What did you just say to me, huh?" Sevika's hips stopped, buried deeply, the sudden stillness a threat more potent than the pace.

Vi's lungs burned for air, a dizzying pressure building behind her eyes. She glared, defiance warring with the desperate, animal need to be fucked. She managed a choked noise, a garbled version of, "Go to hell."

"Wrong answer." Sevika leaned down, the metal fingers on Vi's hip digging in painfully. She spat directly into Vi's open, gasping mouth. The warm, slick fluid hit her tongue, and Vi's whole body convulsed, a spark of humiliation and raw lust that shot straight to her clit.

Vi whimpered, the sound muffled and pathetic. She could feel the smirk against her cheek. She hated it and loved it. Her thighs trembled, trying to close, to find some friction, some relief, but Sevika's body held her wide open, vulnerable. Her clit was a throbbing, neglected pearl, slick with her own need, but every instinct told her not to beg. Not yet.

"What was that?" Sevika pulled her hips back, then slammed forward, a single, devastating thrust that knocked the air from Vi's lungs anew. Her grip on Vi's throat loosened just enough for a ragged inhale. "Speak up when daddy’s talking to you."

Vi's answer was to deliberately clench her inner muscles as tight as she could, a silent, petulant clamp-down. A small, victorious grin tugged at her lips. A way to say: See? I still have something.

Sevika's rhythm stuttered for a half-second, a barely-perceptible falter. She felt it. The tiny surge of power Vi just got was intoxicating. Vi did it again, harder.

That was her mistake.

A dark chuckle vibrated in Sevika's chest. "Oh, you think you're fucking clever?" She pulled out almost completely, leaving Vi empty and aching, then drove back in with a force that lifted Vi's ass clean off the mattress. "Think that pussy has any say in this?"

The question was rhetorical, then the answer was a punishment.

Sevika shifted, planting one knee on the bed, and hauled Vi's leg up, hooking it over her metal arm. The angle was obscene, a ruthless exposure. Vi was spread open, her clit a large, swollen exposed nub against Sevika's pelvic bone with every inward shove. There was no defense, no way to hide how the rough friction was lighting her up from the inside, turning her anger to molten want.

"Oh fuck daddy," Vi gasped, the word torn from her lips by a particularly vicious thrust. It was meant to be an insult, a jab at the power dynamic she so resented even as it made her dripping wet. Instead, it came out as a whine. A plea.

"Say it again," Sevika commanded, her real hand moving from Vi's throat to grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. "And this time, make it sound like you mean it. Beg daddy for it."

"Fuck. You," Vi managed, her scalp screaming where Sevika's fingers were twisted in her pink strands. Her defiance was a thin veneer now, cracking under the relentless, punishing pleasure. She could feel the heat coiling in her belly, a tension that wound tighter and tighter. She tried to fight it, to hold on to the anger, but it was a losing battle. Her body was a traitor, arching into each stroke, her pussy a mess of slick and a want for more.

"That's not what I asked for," Sevika said simply. She slowed her pace, drawing out the drag of her dick against Vi's sensitive walls, a teasing, maddening rhythm designed to break her. "You want to cum, don't you, baby?"

Vi's lip trembled. She bit it hard. Pride warred overwhelmingly in her mind. Her hips stuttered, trying to chase the friction Sevika was now so cruelly denying.

"I can do this all night," Sevika warned, her voice a low thrum of a promise she can fully follow through. She let go of Vi's hair, her metal arm shifting to press heavily on the back of Vi's thigh, holding her in that exposed, wide-open position. Her other hand slid down Vi's sweat-slicked body, rough fingers ghosting over her stomach. "Or I can leave you here, soaking our fucking sheets, and finish myself off in the shower. Your choice."

The threat was real. Vi knew it. The thought of being left like this, empty and aching, was more terrifying than the words Sevika wanted to hear. A broken sob escaped her lips.

"Daddy," she whispered, the word barely audible, a complete surrender.

Sevika's thumb found Vi's clit, pressing down and rubbing. "Louder."

Vi cried out, her body hiccuping at the direct stimulation. "Please, daddy," she begged, the words tumbling out now, a desperate, shameful torrent. "Please, I wanna cum. Let me cum, daddy, please. I'm sorry, I'll be good."

Sevika gave a low hum of satisfaction, a predator's purr. "There you go."

The reward was immediate and devastating. Sevika's rhythm snapped back to its brutal pace, the head of her dick nailing Vi's G-spot with every calculated thrust. Her thumb began to circle Vi's clit, a tight, unrelenting pressure that pushed her right to the edge.

"That's it," Sevika grunted, her own breathing growing ragged. She leaned down, her lips brushing against Vi's ear. "Cum for daddy. Show me how sorry you are."

The command was all it took. The tension in Vi's belly snapped, pleasure flooding her system in a rush as strong as a tsunami. Her back bowed off the bed, a strangled scream tearing from her throat as her pussy spasmed, clamping down on Sevika's dick. It was an orgasm that left her shaking and sobbing, her mind a blissful, empty blank.

Before Vi had even finished riding out the last waves of her climax, Sevika flipped her over with surprising strength. Vi's face was pressed into the pillow, the rough cotton muffling her weak protest. Sevika hauled her hips up, forcing her onto her knees, and pushed back inside, the new position allowing for an even deeper, more possessive penetration.

"Who's in charge here, Violet?" Sevika asked, her voice dangerously low as she gripped Vi's hips, her metal fingers digging bruises into Vi's skin. Vi, still dazed and oversensitive, could only manage a weak whimper.

"I asked you a question," Sevika snarled, punctuating her words with a sharp, punishing thrust that made Vi's whole body bounce.

"You, fuck," Vi gasped, the word muffled by the pillow. "You, daddy. You're in charge."

"You got it," Sevika's pace quickened, her control finally beginning to fray. The sight of Vi, pliant and obedient beneath her, her ass reddened from the force of Sevika's hips, was her undoing. With a low groan, she buried herself deep and came, her release a hot flood that filled Vi completely.

She stilled, her breaths coming in harsh pants, the only sounds in the room their ragged breathing and the ticking of the clock on the nightstand. For a long moment, she stayed buried inside Vi, her body a heavy, claiming weight on her back.

Then, with a final, deliberate slap to Vi's ass, she pulled out. Vi collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, a mess of sweat, tears….and cum. She felt empty, used, and strangely peaceful. The anger had been fucked out of her, replaced by a pleasant ache and a profound sense of belonging.

Sevika rolled off her and onto her back, throwing an arm over her eyes. The room was quiet now, the earlier violence replaced by a heavy, comfortable silence.

"Don't you ever pull that shit with me again," Sevika said, her voice muffled by her arm. "Not about work, not about anything."

Vi rolled over, wincing at the soreness between her legs. She propped herself up on an elbow, her hair a tangled mess around her face. "You're the one who said you'd be home by seven. I had dinner ready and everything."

There was still a hint of the nagging in her tone, a final remnant of her earlier defiance. But it was softer now, a quiet grumble rather than a full-blown accusation.

Sevika lowered her arm, her grey eyes fixing on Vi. They were tired, but there was a new warmth in them, a softness that was reserved only for her. "I know. And I'm sorry. The deal went south. I couldn't get away."

Vi just nodded, her anger finally giving way to understanding. She knew how important Sevika's work was, how much pressure she was under. It didn't excuse the broken promise, but it explained it. And now, with the argument resolved in their own passionate way, she found she didn't care as much anymore.

She shuffled closer, resting her head on Sevika's chest, her cheek pressed on her nipple. Her ear pressed against her steady heartbeat. "The pasta got cold."

Sevika wrapped an arm around her, her hand stroking Vi's hair gently. "I'll make it up to you," she promised, her lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of Vi's head. "We can go out tomorrow. Anywhere you want."

Vi hummed in contentment, her body finally relaxing completely. "Okay then. I want waffles. With strawberries and so much fucking syrup."

"Just for you,” Sevika agreed, a small smile playing on her lips. "And I'll even let you put the whipped cream on my nose."

Vi barked out a laugh, an ugly sound that Sevika grew to love. Vi snuggled closer, her fingers tracing patterns on Sevika's stomach. “Well it’s the least you can do for what you did to me.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow. "What I did?You called me a 'fucking liar' and threw my keys at the wall."

Vi rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe I was a little evil." She bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So... are you going to spank me for it?"

Sevika's smile widened. "Don't push your luck, Violet."

[achillesinhighheels]

[achillesinhighheels]

[achillesinhighheels]

Rihanna for Lui Magazine photographed by Mario Sorrenti (2014)

[charayy]

Oh my god.

[charayy]

𝓑𝓛𝓐𝓒𝓚 𝓗𝓞𝓡𝓘𝓩𝓞𝓝

“This is the dusty, withered place where the devil’s children fester and evil permeates every corner. The Postbellum South is a sprawl of wasteland where anomic preachers warn passing folk to beware of the vampires who roam the land and their temptations. Violet, a hired gun ordered to settle a string of killings the town refuses to name, steps into a world that swallows men whole. And a woman rules its shadows, every move under her eye.

The woman is Sevika, the matriarch who rules what others fear to touch, keeps the trails open, the dead quiet, and the devil's children fed just enough to hold the peace. When Violet's work brings her close to the truth, their paths collide in blood and suspicion, and neither woman can decide whether the other is a threat or a desire that damns them both.”

Sevika x Vi fic • word count is ~11k • estimated whole word count will be ~60k • multiple chapters • slow burn • angst • eventual smut • southern gothic • better tagging on ao3 • chapter 1/18 • present Ekko, Mel, Sky, Ambessa, Jayce, Caitlyn are in the story

AO3 LINK (if you want to read it on here instead)

Violet heard about the rumors about this town. It carried through her time when she worked guarding the western lines and the railroads. Her friends who went there to party would come back drunk and bruised and then tell her stories of what happened to them in the saloons. Stories about music that would make your soul bounce in your chest, surrounded by sweaty bodies drenched in alcohol, and sporting women around every block ready to make them forget about their grueling work hours. Violet always wanted to visit it, because the bars in St. Louis rarely let her in, and on the occasions they did, she was bombarded with complaints on how she was too unladylike to be a sex patron. Expecting to only hear about the town through secondary stories from other guard workers, she gave up on fantasizing about night offs.

That is until Vi was assigned as a strikebreaker to protect shipments. Riding on her horse now, through the single dirt road, she remembered when this was the task for the majority of her job. Check and watch out for raiders. Most of the nights in the sparse fields consisted of one thing; riding Midnight while looking at stars. When there actually was trouble, Vi had learned over the years how to deal with it properly. Proper enough for a trading company to hire her to “take care” of the theft regarding their cargo. All reports circulated through the route going through the infamous boomtown. The previous boomtown is known for wild nights, its lawless land, and darkest temptations. The same boomtown that’s garnered notoriety for its death count, miserable residents, and the religious psychosis that poisons over everyone’s consciousness. Violet kept everything she needed for her trip in her saddlebag lunged on the side of her Mustang. Violet had been traversing to her destination for four hours—her surroundings being nothing but an orange sky and rolling hills that were indistinguishable from one another.

Vi approached more distinct shapes, and eventually a sign creaked a mournful rhythm above the town's single thoroughfare: REDWATER CROSSING. The letters were worn and peeling, just like the first layer of Vi’s skin. Midnight blew a hot, gusty sigh, its flanks twitching at the buzzing of fat, lazy flies.

Then, in another blink fogged with dirt, Redcrossing materialized from the heat-haze like a fever dream, sprawling along the baked earth. The dust, fine as powdered spices, rose in languid spirals at Vi's approach, clinging to the sweat on her brow and the worn leather of her duster. The sun was a beating force, bleaching the color from the world, leaving everything in shades of orange and white.

This wasn't a town so much as a wound upon the land. A collection of false-fronted buildings leaned against one another for support, their porches crowded with men whose faces were maps of hardship and violence. It’s been over three decades since the Civil War ended. The rebirthed south had been a promise of something new, but out here, it seemed only the old sins had survived, tougher than weeds and twice as bitter.

A saloon dominated the center of the street, its windows dark as a dead man’s stare when the blood stops draining out of their body. Vi squinted and was able to read the decal text above the entrance: The Last Drop. Further down, a church with a leaning steeple pointed a crooked finger at the sky. Between them, a hundred yards of hard-packed dirt served as the town's beating heart Vi presumed. It seemed like a place where deals were made in whispers and lives were lost with the casual indifference of a dead mouse under floorboards. Vi had seen her fair share of them.

Vi dismounted, her boots striking the ground with a soft thud that seemed unnaturally loud in the oppressive heat. She led her horse to the water trough, the water a stagnant, reddish-brown slurry. The town's namesake, she assumed with a grimace. She looped the reins around the hitching post, her movements second-nature, a lifetime of practice honing her into a creature of efficiency and quiet purpose.

Her gaze swept the faces in the passing crowds. One of the main pieces of information she was given for this mission was a description of a man who would help her around the town and learn its traditions. The description she'd been given was laughably vague: "A young fella, quick on his feet, with a rough drawl to his words, and big lips. He'll know you're coming." Not much to go on in a town teeming with desperate young men, each one trying to scrape a living from the unforgiving earth. Vi digresses and continues her walk down the road. She’ll just have to talk around, then.

A group of men clustered around the saloon entrance watched her. Some of their glistening faces were tilted, some were sneering, and others pretended she didn’t exist. Vi ignored them, her senses extending past the obvious, past the noise and the stink and the suffocating heat. She was here for a reason. A string of killings, the telegraph had said, though it hadn't dared to name the cause. The trading company wanted someone disposable. Someone who wouldn't ask too many questions. And when they offered Vi a payout only a saint would decline; she took it.

Vi had learned long ago that the questions were the only thing that mattered.

She stepped onto the boardwalk, the wood groaning under her weight. The heat radiated up through the soles of her boots, a palpable presence that made her feel like she was walking on the surface of a stove. Banners decorated the wooden buildings and poles. Some were colorful, and she figured they were for advertisements for Juke Joints, but others were warning signs.

BEWARE THE DEVILS THAT WALK AMONG US.

WALK IN PAIRS AT NIGHT—DO NOT STEER INTO THE DARKNESS!

THEY WILL TRY TO GET YOU ANY MEANS NECESSARY. DO NOT GIVE IN.

DEMONS USE A STRONGER WILL THAN OUR GOD. KEEP FIRE POWER AND SPIRITS WITH YOU IF YOU WANT A CHANCE OF PARADISE.

These were unlike any posters Vi has seen. Devils? Not burglars or bandits or rustlers. The residents in this town were more afraid than the people in St. Louis were. Vi never saw anything like these posters in the city. Maybe the newspapers delivered at her door would be warning of the usual things—starvation, sickness, the violence of desperate men. Sections dedicated to advisories about gun ownership to protect themselves. This—this was something else. It was a desperate cry for repentance and judgement about religion, but no mention of hell or damnation. It was a warning of physical harm. She figured that Redcrossing wasn’t afraid of criminals because of the reputation of the place, so then, what are they scared of?

Walking closer to the saloon, Violet passed a group of women of different backgrounds. Their faces sunken with their eyebrows knit, with their hands clutching prayer books as if the flimsy paper could ward off some unspeakable evil. A bible study, perhaps. It wasn’t as common to see people gathering outside the confines of walls meeting up about 33 years ago, but now that reconciliation was well developed Violet had seen groups at pubs downtown in her own city. Now that freed slaves were ingrained in society, they leaned towards religious readings to get their education. Vi liked it, even if they were reading verses that had helped her race oppress them, but a small step forward was better than only no steps back. In the formation of a circle, they were huddled against each other like the buzzing of flies. Violet could hear small phrases being read aloud. "...devil's children..." "...she walks with darkness..." "...the blood..."

Vi's jaw tightened. She wasn't a believer in such things, but she was a believer in the power of fear. It was a weapon, as deadly as any Colt or Winchester. And someone, or something, was wielding it with masterful precision here in Redwater Crossing. She rolled her eyes, lowered her buckskin slouch hat then continued until she reached the swing doors of the saloon.

There was a man smoking at the entrance. He was perched against the wall, a cigarette caught between their lips. Before Vi could enter, he got from his relaxed position and held a hand out—not to greet her—but to block the entryway.

“No.”

Vi’s eyebrow arched, a muscle in her jaw working. This was new. Saloons, in her experience, were places of grim equality. She’d never been turned away at the door.

She looked the man up and down. He had a long thick neck, a belly straining the buttons of a sweat-stained flannel, and a face that seemed to have been molded from bloody, raw beef. Not the "quick on his feet" type. The way he tried to cower over Vi’s frame and a demeanor that held no cowardice, gave the impression of a bouncer who enjoyed his work far too much. His hands were meaty, but one of them rested near the butt of a pistol worn low on his hip. Vi’s brows quirked at that. He was armed muscle.

“I’m just here for a drink,” Vi said, a carefully modulating the tone of a casual threat. The sun beat down on the back of her neck, but she didn't flinch. Men like this didn’t scare her.

The man took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke trickle from his nostrils like a bull. “We’re selective on who we serve,” he said, the words muffled by the filter.

Vi’s fingers, hanging loose at her sides, curled slightly. When she did so, she could feel the familiar, comforting weight of her own gun. It was tucked into the small of her back. She’d used it on men twice this size for less obstruction. But that wasn't the way this was supposed to start. She needed information, not a corpse and a town full of hostility before she'd even had her first cup of booze.

“Maybe you got the wrong idea,” Vi said, taking a half-step closer. “I’m not looking for trouble. Just a place to get out of the sun,” She cocked her head up, keeping eye contact.

He was unphased. "This ain't a place for your kind, lady." His eyes, small and beady identical to a pig's, flickered over her dusty trousers and her black fringe shirt. "This is a respectable establishment."

Vi almost laughed. Respectable. The word was a joke in a place like Redwater Crossing. Respectability to people who visited and lived here was a cape you threw over yourself; hoping no one would look too closely at the rotting sin inside. The bouncers' true words were clear. It wasn't about her gender entirely. It was about the look of her. The batwing chaps that hung at her waist, the pragmatic boots, the lean, hard-set of her jaw that was the opposite of the fatty cheeks of other women around her. She looked like what she was: a woman who made her living outside the tidy, fenced-in world of "respectable" folk.

"Fine," she said abruptly. "I'll find my business elsewhere."

She turned to walk away, her boots crunching on the dirt, putting on a convincing show of defeat. The bouncer watched her go, a smirk touching the corner of his lips. He was kept watching even when Vi stopped halfway off the porch. She turned back, the movement impossibly fast.

His eyes widened as he saw the glint of sunlight on the barrel of the Colt she now held, aimed not at his chest, but at the wood post beside his head.

There was a deafening roar that echoed off the false fronts of the buildings, a sharp crack that made the horses at the hitching post shy and whinny. A splintered hole appeared in the wood, a clean, dark puncture an inch from the bouncer’s ear.

A hush fell over the street. The women with their prayer books gasped. The men watching from the saloon doorway stiffened and jumped back. Violet stepped forward once more.

"The way I see it," Vi said, her voice dropping to a conversational level that was more terrifying than any shout, "you have two choices. You can stand there and keep blocking a paying customer, in which case my next shot won't miss the post. Or," she paused, letting the silence stretch, letting him feel the weight of the pistol in her steady hand, "you can step aside and let me inside so I can give my money to your boss. Respectably."

The bouncer's pig-looking face went a blotchy, purplish-red. He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple painfully visible. He looked from Vi's cold, steady eyes to the hole she’d bored in the post, then back again. With a jerky, resentful movement, he stepped aside, pulling the saloon door open for her with a belated, terrorized chivalry. He had hoped Vi hadn’t notice the shake in his hand.

Vi didn't holster her pistol immediately. She let it hang at her side as she walked past him, the barrel still warm. Only when she was through the swing doors and into the gloom did she slide it back into its holster. The doors swung shut behind her, cutting off the blinding sun and plunging her into a different world.

The inside of The Last Drop was exactly what Vi expected. The air was thick with the stale odor of spilled whiskey, cheap cigar smoke, and the unwashed bodies of men who had been sweating in the heat for far too long. A long, scarred oak bar dominated the far wall, its polished surface reflecting the dim light from oil lamps hanging from the rafters. The floor was a sticky mess of sawdust and mud. The piano in the corner emitting a soft comforting tune of blues played on the ivory keys.

Men with beards leaned against the bar, their conversations a low, indistinct murmur flowing through Violet’s ears. A few tables were occupied, card games in progress, the faces of the players illuminated in the wavering lamplight. A handful of women were scattered around the area, some laughing with the men, others sitting alone. They sat simple and beautiful in split riding skirts and cotton dresses. The crowd was a patchwork quilt of the New South now, a place where a Black man with the bearing of a former Union soldier could be playing cards with a sun-weathered white farmer who'd likely fought for the Confederacy. They weren't friends, but they shared a space, united by the shared pursuit of forgetting. It was a fragile truce, held together by potential profits and that in Redwater Crossing, old grievances were a luxury no one could afford.

Vi moved through the room with a loose-limbed grace that belied the tension coiled in her gut. She made her way to the bar, her boots sticking slightly with each step on the hardwood. The bartender watched her approach.

"What'll it be?" he asked, his voice a dry rasp.

"Bourbon," Vi said, sliding a coin across the bar. "And information,” she sighed out, the corner of her lips lifting.

The bartender's eyes narrowed. He wiped the bar with a rag that looked dirtier than the wood itself. "We sell drinks here, lady. Not stories."

"Well, I'm not buying stories," Vi said, placing her arms at the corner table separating them. "I'm looking for someone. Say, ‘a young fella, quick on his feet. Got a rough drawl to his words. Big lips.’ Supposed to know I'm coming."

The bartender paused mid-wipe. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering for a moment on a group of men playing poker in the corner. He turned back to Vi, his expression unreadable. "A lot of fellas fit that description in this town."

Violet scoffed. "Not like this one," she said, her tone firm.

The bartender shrugged. "Haven't seen him."

Vi knew he was lying. The slight tightening around his eyes, the way he'd glanced away—she'd seen it a hundred times. This was all because she was an outsider, and outsiders weren't trusted. Of course she’d have to find him herself.

She took her bourbon and found a seat at a small table in the corner, her back to the wall. It was a habit she'd learned early in this line of work, a way to keep an eye on the room and an eye on the door. She sipped her drink, the cheap liquor burning a trail down her throat. Knowing she looked out of place and obviously suspicious, she made sure not to cause too much attention to herself that she hasn’t got already from her stunt outside. Her gaze swept the room, cataloging faces, assessing threats. She saw men with the hard, empty eyes of killers, men with the shifty, nervous look of thieves, and men with the dull, defeated gaze of men who had lost everything. But none of them matched the description she was given.

Time passed. The bourbon in her glass grew hot by now. The card games continued, the murmur of conversations rose and fell. She could feel the bartender's eyes on her from across the room, a constant, pricking sensation. The other patrons mostly ignored her, a lone woman in a sea of men. The body language she held universally told the patrons to keep their distance.

This is taking too long. She was about to give up for the day and find a boarding house when she heard a new sound, a rhythmic tapping that cut through the noise of the saloon. She turned, her eyes searching for the source. And then she saw him.

He was perched on the counter of the bar, one leg swinging freely. He was young, barely out of his teens. His leg bounced and his fingers constantly curled and stretched. He was dark-skinned, with a shock of stark white hair that rested just above his shoulders in a series of intricate thick ropes that Vi had seen only a handful of times. Locs, she remembered. He was whittling a piece of wood with a small, sharp knife, the shavings falling to the floor around him. He worked with a focus that was almost artistic, his hands moving with a speed and dexterity that was mesmerizing.

As Vi watched, he finished the piece. It was a small, bird-like creature, its wings outstretched as if in flight. He held it up to the light, a small, satisfied smile on his face. Then, he tossed it into the air. Instead of falling, the bird circled the room, its wooden wings flapping smoothly in silent motion. It was a feat of engineering, a marvel of delicate, hidden gears and levers. The bird flew over the tables, over the heads of the gamblers, a silent, wooden miracle in a world of harsh reality.

It was then that Vi knew she'd found her man. Young. Quick on his feet, in more ways than one. She focused on him and the bartender, watching patiently for words to be spoken. As the bird landed back in his hand, he spoke to the bartender, his voice a clear, melodious drawl. "Benzo'll be wanting his cut," he said, the words rolling off his tongue with a lazy cadence.

And as he spoke, Vi saw his lips, full and expressive, stretching into a grin. "A young fella, quick on his feet, with a rough drawl to his words, and big lips,” she murmured to herself. It was him. It had to be.

Vi downed the rest of her bourbon, the last of it a warm ember in her chest that reminded her where the hell she was. She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. The young man looked up as she approached, his brown eyes, bright unhidden curiosity meet hers. The smile vanished, replaced by a look of cautious appraisal.

"I'm looking for someone," Vi said. He didn't answer immediately. He just looked at her, his head cocked to one side. He looked at her worn clothes, her dusty boots, the gun at her hip. He looked at her face, at the scar that cut through her left eyebrow, a pale white line against her skin. The utterly insane faded face tattoo under her right eye. He was assessing her, just as she was assessing him.

"Most people are," he finally said, his drawl more pronounced up close. Despite his hesitation, he let out a soft laugh. "What's it to you?"

"I was told a man like you would be expecting me," Vi said, not backing down from his gaze. "I'm the help they sent."

The young man's expression didn't change except the tight skin loosening around his eyes. He glanced at the bartender, who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. He hopped down from the counter, landing with a cat-like grace that belied his lanky frame. He was surprisingly…shorter than he'd seemed from across the room.

"Come on," he said, gesturing with his head towards a door at the back of the saloon. "We can't talk here."

He led her through a maze of crates and barrels, and Vi started to worry about damp wood and mold. The sounds of the saloon faded behind them, replaced by the scurrying of rats in the walls. He pushed open a heavy wooden door, revealing a small, cluttered office. A single oil lamp cast a wavering glow on the walls, illuminating stacks of ledgers and a large, scarred desk.

He closed the door behind them, the click of the latch echoing in the sudden silence.

"You're later than they said you'd be," he said, leaning against the desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture of casual defiance. "We were starting to think you weren't coming."

"I had some setbacks on the road. My horse was going slower than usual.” Vi said, her hands sliding into her belt loops. “Then had some trouble at the door," Vi said, her gaze sweeping the room. It was a space of organized chaos, a place where business was done, secrets were kept, and power was brokered. She let out a short laugh. "Your bouncer isn't very welcoming."

"He's not paid to be welcoming," the young man said. "He's paid to keep the wrong people out."

Vi’s head moved just an inch, her uneven lips lifting upward. "Am I the wrong people?" Vi asked.

He looked at her for a long moment, unreadable to her. "I don't know yet," he said finally with a shrug. “But you're here now. And we've got problems that need solving."

He pushed a ledger across the desk. Vi leaned in, her eyes scanning the neat, precise script. It was a list of names, each one crossed out with a single, decisive line. A date was written next to each name. The last entry, just a week old, was a name she recognized from the telegraph: Mylo, a freighter who'd been found drained of blood in a ditch outside of town.

"They call it the 'Red Sickness'," the young man said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "The preacher at the church says it's a punishment from God. A plague sent to test our faith.”

"And what do you say?" Vi asked, her finger tracing the line through Mylo's name.

"I say I've seen the bodies," he said, his jaw tight. "I've seen the bite marks. I've seen the way the blood is gone, every last drop, leaving them as dry as a bone in the desert. That's not a sickness. That's… something else. Something that ain’t right."

"This is hurting business," Vi stated, her gaze still on the ledger. "The shipments from Arkansas. They're getting scared, y’know.”

"They're more than scared," he said bitterly. "They're stopping. They're rerouting. It's costing everyone a fortune. The railroads won't touch this stretch of land anymore. We're becoming an island, a place the world is happy to forget. Soon enough, people won’t come visit here to get loose. That revenue we getting wont last long.”

"They sent me to fix it," Vi said. "They said you'd have the answers."

He shook his head, a look of frustration on his face. The locs of white hair swayed with his movement. "I have questions, not answers. I've lived here my whole life. Even during the war. I know this town, every dirt path, every goddamn corner. But this… this is something that doesn't belong here.”

"They told me you were the best," the young man said, his gaze meeting hers, finally. "They said if anyone could get to the bottom of this, it was you. They said you were a ghost. That you could walk through a firefight and come out the other side without a scratch."

"Rumors are cheap," Vi said, a flicker of something—pride, perhaps, or just the grim acceptance of her reputation—in her eyes. "I'm just good at my job."

"My name's Ekko," he said, extending a hand. "And I'm the one who's been trying to hold this town together while the devils have their fun."

Vi took his hand. Bowing, grip was firm, which surprised her. "The town's changed," Ekko said, releasing her hand and leaning back against the desk. "It's always been a rougher place, but it has its own kind of balance. Now… now it's gone mad. Everyone's scared pantsless. They're seeing monsters in the shadows, hearing whispers in the wind. The preacher is having a field day. He's got them all convinced that this is the End of Days."

"Religion is a powerful tool," Vi said, her thoughts drifting back to the women with their prayer books, to the warning signs and posters that had lined the main street. "Especially when people are desperate."

"They're not just desperate," Ekko said, his voice low. "They're… different. The people who claim to have seen these things, the ones who confess their sins to the preacher, they're not the usual lunatics you’ve heard about in the paper. They're respectable folk. The schoolmarm down the block.The blacksmith five miles from where. They're scared. Really scared. And their fear is startin’ to get contagious."

He walked over to a small, barred window and peered out into the alley. "The shipments from Arkansas are the lifeblood of this town. They bring in everything we need to survive. Food, supplies, medicine, what not. Without them, we're nothing. And now, they're gone. The drivers are refusing to come through. They'd rather take the long way around, through the mountains, than risk a run-in with whatever's out there."

"Your concern tells me you're sure about this," Vi said, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "The trading company said you could find a needle in a haystack. That everyone will come to your say. They said you were the only one who could keep this place from falling apart."

Ekko turned back from the window, a wry grin spreading across his face. “… sounds like they've been talking about both of us."

"Maybe," Vi said, her gaze unwavering. "Or maybe they're just trying to flatter us into doing their dirty work."

"Maybe," Ekko conceded. "But it's working, isn't it?"

Vi didn't answer. She just looked at him, her expression unreadable. She could see the weight of the town's fear on his young shoulders, a burden he carried with a stoicism that belied his age. She respected that. He was trying to save his home, and he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

"So, what's the plan?" Ekko asked, his tone shifting, the seriousness returning. "How do you propose to fight something that might not even be human?"

"I start with the bodies," Vi said, her voice a low, steady hum. "I want to see the latest one, if you don’t mind. Where was he found?"

"In the old quarry," Ekko said, a shudder running through him despite the heat. As he shook his head, he sneered and closed his eyes. "It's a bad place. A place where bad things have always happened. They say it's haunted by the ghosts of the men who died in the blasting accidents."

Vi put her weight on her arm sitting at the edge of the desk, her body tilted to the side. "I'm not afraid of ghosts, Ekko," Vi said, her hand resting on the butt of her Colt. "Ghosts can't make me bleed.”

Ekko's grin returned, a flash of white in the dim light of the office. He chuckled then, running a hand to part the white locks that had maneuvered in his face. "I have a feeling," he said, his drawl stretching the words into a lazy, confident melody, "that you and I are going to be very good friends, Violet."

"Vi," she corrected him, her own lips twitching into a smile. "Just Vi."

"Alright then, Vi," he said, the name rolling off his tongue as if he'd been saying it for years. "Let's go see what the monsters left for us."

The sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky in streaks blood orange. The air had cooled, but only slightly, a brief respite from the day's oppressive heat. Vi and Ekko rode out of town, their horses' hooves beating a steady rhythm on the hard-packed dirt. The landscape grew more rugged as they traveled, the rolling hills giving way to jagged outcroppings of rock and scraggly, determined trees that clawed at the sky.

The quarry was a wound in the earth, a vast, circular crater carved out by the relentless work of men and dynamite. The walls of the crater were a series of jagged, sheer cliffs, their faces stained with the ghosts of mineral deposits. At the bottom, a stagnant pool of water, the color of rust, reflected the dying light. They were riding silently, leaving only the crunch of gravel under their horses' hooves audible along with the occasional, mournful cry of a distant hawk.

They dismounted once they got to the correct area. They left their horses at the edge of the crater. Ekko led the way down a steep, winding path, his movements sure-footed. He radiated a confidence of someone who knew their place around inside-and-out. Vi followed blindly. She thought to herself that she should probably be more hesitant about the guidance she’s been given, so she kept her hand never straying far from her gun. The air grew cooler as they descended, carrying the sharp, metallic scent of damp stone and coppery blood. Old blood.

The body was at the bottom of the quarry, laid out on a flat slab of rock like a sacrifice given to the underworld. It was covered with a stained, threadbare tarp. Ekko stopped a few feet away, his face a mask of grim resignation.

“…He’s under there," he said, his voice barely a whisper. At his sides were balled up fist.

Vi knelt beside the tarp, her movements devoid of any unnecessary emotion to keep herself under reaction. She pulled back a corner of the canvas. The face that stared up at her was a mask of terror, the eyes wide and unseeing, the mouth frozen in a silent scream. It was Mylo, the freighter from the ledger. His skin was a waxy, unnatural pallor, stretched tight over his bones. There wasn't a drop of color left in him.

She pulled the tarp back further, her gaze sweeping over the body. His clothes were torn, but not in a way that suggested a struggle. The fabric was shredded, as if by something with impossibly sharp claws. And then she saw them. The wounds.

Vi noticed the absence of both the body’s hands. It’s been chewed off, given the uneven cut at the wrist. She remember in her studies of animals which ones liked to eat hands. For animals, it was significantly more work to consume hands or paws for the small amount of meat. There were two small puncture marks on his neck, precise and clean, almost surgical in their neatness. Neat was never the way of an animal. Animal wounds were brutal and messy. The puncture marks were surrounded by a network of angry, purple bruises.

Vi had researched an impressive amount of what and which animals preferred to eat and attack body parts. She’d learned more then 50 techniques on the animal kingdom dissected each other, or humans that were at the wrong place during the wrong time. She’s been able to connect the dots to all of the victims she’d seen. But these… these were different. There was something unnatural about them, something that defied her understanding of violence. They were too perfect, too deliberate. They didn't have the ragged, chaotic quality of a human attack, or the tearing, savage nature of a wild animal.

"There’s the 'Red Sickness'," Ekko said, his voice caged with gritted teeth. "That's what the preacher down on Saints road callin’ it that to everyone here. He says it's a plague sent by God to punish the wicked."

Vi didn't answer. She was thinking of the posters in town. BEWARE THE DEVILS THAT WALK AMONG US. THEY WILL TRY TO GET YOU ANY MEANS NECESSARY. She had dismissed them as the ravings of a panicked, superstitious community. But looking at the two neat puncture wounds, the words echoed in her mind, no longer sounding so incredibly insane. She leaned in closer, her nostrils flaring at the faint, coppery scent of blood that still clung to the body. There was something else, too. A faint, almost imperceptible odor. Mylo’s body had been rotting here for a couple days, but it smelt like months of decay. A septic burn stench lingered around his neck.

"He was found just like this," Ekko continued, his gaze fixed on the body, “No blood. Not a single drop. The men who found him said the ground around him was dry as a bone. It was like… it was like something just sucked it all out of him."

Vi stood up, her knees creaking in protest. She walked a few feet away, her gaze sweeping the perimeter of the quarry. The sun had dipped below the rim of the crater, casting the bottom into deep shadow. The light was failing, the colors of the sky bleeding into a deeper orange, bordering on dark purple. The world was being consumed by the night, and with it, a new kind of fear was stirring low in Violet's gut.

"I've heard stories," Vi said, her voice a low murmur, more to herself than to Ekko. "Talk in saloons, whispers around fires. Stories about creatures that prey on men, that drink their blood and steal their life. I always thought they were just that. Stories."

"They not stories anymore," Ekko said, his tone grim. "Not here. Not no more."

Vi turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "If these stories are true, if there's something out there hunting these men, it has to be coming from somewhere. It has a lair. A base of operations." She paused, her gaze sharpening as the idea appeared in her brain. "Where's the closest place to here? A place where something could hide during the day and come out at night."

Ekko hesitated, a flicker of something Vi couldn’t differentiate—conflict, maybe, or fear—in his eyes. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the stagnant pool of water at the bottom of the quarry. "There's a place," he said, his voice low. "It's an old jook joint. About a mile from here, deep in the woods. They call it the Silt Bellows."

Vi raised an eyebrow. "A jook joint? That's where you think these… things… are holed up?"

Ekko grimaced, looking out to the horizon. "The people in town, they've been whispering about it for weeks," Ekko said, his reluctance palpable. "The preacher, he's been preaching against it. He says it's a den of iniquity, a place where the Devil holds court. Sayin’ the music they play there, the dancing, the drinking… it's an invitation to evil. He's convinced that's where the 'demons' are coming from.”

Vi's skepticism was something she always carried, but it was starting to feel a little thin. The two neat puncture wounds on Mylo's neck were hard to argue with. "What do you think, Ekko?" she asked, her tone direct. "Is it a den of iniquity?"

Ekko shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. He ran a hand through the messy cascade of white locs to hide the slight tremble they held. "No," he said, his voice firm, despite the tremor in it. "It's not. The Silt Bellows is… it's home, Vi. It's where I grew up. The people there, they're like family. They're good people. They're just trying to live their lives, to find a little joy in a world that's done its best to crush them."

He looked at her, his eyes pleading, a desperate need for her to understand. “Long before I was born, and long after the war was over, there wasn’t much meant for us. Nowhere to go that didn’t watch us close. The Silt Bellows was thrown together from scraps, built by folks who knew no one was coming to make space for them. It’s where we can dance and forget everything ‘round us. They call it a den of demons. But it ain’t. It’s a sanctuary.”

Vi watched him, saw the raw, protective love in his eyes. She understood, on some level, the need for a sanctuary, a place to retreat from the harsh realities of the world. She'd had her own, once. A long time ago.

"I believe you," Vi said, her tone softening, just a fraction. "But beliefs don't stop a killer. And right now, the Silt Bellows is the only lead we have. We have to check it out."

A war of emotions played out across Ekko's face in a matter of seconds. He took a deep breath, the decision settling in his eyes like a heavy stone. Vi never pushed him through his contemplating.

"Okay," he said, his voice raspy. "We'll go. But we go quiet. These are my people, Vi. I don't want them scared. I don't want them thinking I've brought a… a hunter to their door."

"I'm not a hunter," Vi said, barking at him harsher than he deserved. "I'm a problem solver. And right now, there's a body bled out in a quarry. Your people might be good, but that doesn't mean something evil hasn't decided to hide among them, like a wolf in a flock of sheep."

Ekko sneered at the analogy, but he didn't argue. He knew she was right. The thought was a poison in his gut, but he had to face it.

"Alright. We'll go," he said again, this time with more conviction. "But we walk in on our own two feet. Leave the horses. The path is narrow, and the sound of hooves will carry for miles in this quiet."

Vi nodded in agreement. It made sense. Stealth was their best ally now. They left the quarry, the body of Mylo a silent, accusing sentinel in the growing dark. The last sliver of sun vanished, and the world was plunged into a deep, velvety black, pricked only by the cold, distant light of the stars.

The woods were alive with the sounds of the night. The chirping of crickets, the hoot of a distant owl, the rustle of unseen things in the undergrowth. Ekko led the way, moving through the trees with an easy familiarity. Vi followed, her senses on high alert, her body a coiled spring of readiness. The darkness was a different world, a place where the familiar became strange and menacing, where every shadow seemed to hold a potential threat.

They walked for nearly an hour, the path winding deeper into the forest. The trees grew thicker here, their branches forming a dense canopy that blocked out the starlight, plunging them into an almost impenetrable gloom. Ekko moved with a sure-footed confidence, but Vi could feel the tension in him, a coiled wire of anxiety that vibrated in the space between them.

Finally, they saw it. A faint, pulsing light in the distance, a warm, inviting glow that pushed back against the oppressive darkness. And then they heard it. A low, rhythmic thrumming, the sound of a double bass, overlaid with the joyful, wailing cry of a harmonica and the intricate, driving rhythm of a piano. It was the sound of life, of defiant celebration in the heart of the wilderness. The Silt Bellows.

The building itself was a marvel of ingenuity. It was a long, low-slung structure, built from scavenged lumber and corrugated tin, patched together with tar and hope. A wide porch wrapped around the front, crowded with people laughing and talking, their faces illuminated by the warm light of oil lamps. The sound of music spilled from the open door and windows, a vibrant, intoxicating melody that seemed to call to something deep in Vi's soul.

Vi paused at the edge of the clearing, her eyes scanning the scene. There were men and women, young and old, their faces alight with a joy that seemed out of place in a town gripped by fear. They were dancing, their bodies moving with a fluid grace that spoke of years of practice. They were drinking, passing bottles of homemade moonshine from hand to hand. They were living. This wasn't a den of iniquity. This was a bastion of life. Ekko had been right. And that made the possibility that a monster was hiding among them all the more terrifying.

"Stay close," Ekko said, his voice a low murmur in her ear. "And try not to look like you're here to hang someone.”

Vi nodded, her expression a neutral mask. She followed Ekko onto the porch, her boots thudding softly on the worn wooden planks. The conversation around them faltered for a moment, a ripple of curiosity spreading through the crowd as they registered her presence. She was an outsider, a pale woman with the hard eyes and the visible gun of a bounty hunter, a stark contrast to the warm, welcoming faces of the people around her. But the pause was brief. The music was too compelling, the night too beautiful to let a stranger spoil the mood. It was favorable that Vi accompanied Ekko, a face that was recognized by most in this town. The conversations resumed, the dancers returned to their joyful rhythms, and Vi and Ekko were absorbed into the periphery of the party.

They pushed through the crowd, moving towards the heart of the building. The air inside was thick with the scent of sweat, cheap whiskey, and sweet, frying dough from a makeshift kitchen in the corner. The music was louder here, a physical force that vibrated through the floorboards and into the soles of Vi's boots. A dark skinned woman with a powerful, soulful voice was singing a blues tune about lost love and hard times, her words a poignant counterpoint to the joyous energy of the room. The gold freckled over her cheeks shimmered and twinkled despite the distance between Vi and the woman, and Vi had to look away before she got too distracted.

Vi's gaze swept the room, her mind working, cataloging faces, searching for anything that seemed out of place. But everyone seemed to belong. They were a community, a family, bound together by shared history and a quiet, stubborn resilience. It was then that she saw her.

She was standing near the far end of the bar, a place of quiet authority that commanded the room without demanding it. She was tall, taller than most of the men around her, with a broad-shouldered frame that spoke of a lifetime of hard physical labor. Her hair was a cascade of deep brown, cut short and styled with a deliberate, almost severe precision, that framed a face of sharp, handsome planes. Her skin was a tawny, rich brown, smooth and unblemished, with a few fine lines around her eyes that suggested she was older than she first appeared. She wore a simple, dark-colored shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms dusted with a fine silver of scars. A long, ugly-looking one ran from her left wrist all the way up to her elbow, a pale, jagged river on her skin.

But it was her eyes that held Vi's attention. They were a startling, luminous grey, the color of a stormy sea just before the breaking of a storm. She held a glass of amber liquid in her hand, but she wasn't drinking. She was watching, her gaze moving over the crowd with a proud analytical interest. She didn't join in the laughter or the dancing. She was an observer. A queen surveying her court.

There was a confidence to her, a stillness that was more powerful than any loud declaration of authority. Vi noted in her quick observation that the men and women around her seemed to gravitate towards her, offering her nods of respect, creating a small, respectful space around her that was as much a boundary as it was a vacuum. She didn't speak, but her presence hung over the room, a current of quiet authority that seemed to anchor the entire celebration.

Vi felt a pull, a magnetic attraction that was equal parts fascination and professional curiosity. She didn't know who this woman was, but she knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her gut, that she was the key. She was the center around which this whole strange, beautiful night revolved. Vi knew if she were to get any progress in her job, she must talk to her.

"I need a drink," Vi said to Ekko, her eyes still fixed on the woman at the bar. "And I need to talk to her."

Ekko followed her gaze, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "That's Sevika," he said, his voice low, hesitant. "Vi, maybe you should wait. Let me talk to her first. Explain things."

"There's nothing to explain," Vi said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I have a job to do. And…she looks like the person who has the answers."

She started towards the bar, moving with a purpose that cut through the festive atmosphere. The crowd parted for her, a silent acknowledgment of her intensity. She could feel Ekko trailing behind her, a reluctant shadow. As she drew closer, she saw another woman standing beside the tall woman, Sevika. This one was a stark contrast. She was lighter-skinned, with a ball of curly brown hair that had a likeliness to wood bark. She was dressed in a fine, green silk dress that was completely out of place in a humble jook joint in the middle of the woods. She held a champagne flute, her fingers long and delicate, a silver bracelet glinting on her wrist. She laughed at something Sevika said, the sound like the tinkling of small, expensive bells. It was a beautiful sound, but it felt hollow, a performance for an audience that wasn't paying attention.

Sevika didn't laugh. She just took a slow sip of her drink, her grey eyes watching Vi's approach with a cool, unreadable interest. She didn't look surprised, or alarmed. She just looked, as if Vi were an interesting new specimen that had wandered into her laboratory.

Vi stopped in front of them, the music and laughter a distant roar in her ears. She was close enough now to see the fine texture of the scars on Sevika's forearms, to see the subtle flecks of darker silver in her grey eyes fencing her irises.

"I'm looking for information," Vi said, her voice a low, direct cut through the din. Sevika raised a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. She turned her head slightly, her gaze moving from Vi to Ekko, who had stopped a few paces behind her, a look of naked dread on his face.

"Ekko," Sevika said, her voice a low, melodic rumble, like stones grinding together deep underground. It was a voice that was both soothing and unsettling. "You've brought a stray to my door."

"I’m not no stray," Vi said, stepping forward, inserting herself into the space between them. "And I'm not here to socialize. A man died a few days ago. In the quarry. His name was Mylo. I'm here to find out why."

The nicely-dressed woman, Sky, let out a soft, dismissive laugh. "Men die all the time in this town, darling," she said, her tone syrupy and condescending. "It's a favorite pastime. Usually, it's because they're foolish, or drunk, or both. It's hardly a mystery."

"This one was different," Vi said, her gaze locked on Sevika, ignoring the woman completely. "He was drained of blood. Every last drop. And he had two small, neat puncture wounds on his neck." Vi emphasized her words by taking two fingers in the pulse points of her neck, lifting her head up.

Sevika set her glass down on the bar with a soft, deliberate click. "The Red Sickness," she said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. "It's a tragedy. We're all devastated. But what does it have to do with me? Or with this establishment?"

"You run this place, don't you?" Vi asked, her tone hardening. "You're the one in charge. That means you know everyone who comes and goes. You know the secrets this place holds. And right now, a secret is exactly what I'm looking for."

Sevika's eyes narrowed, the grey darkening like a sky gathering for a storm. "This is a place of refuge," she said, her voice a low growl. "A place for my people to forget the troubles of the world. It's not a station, and it's not your personal investigation. You've got a lot of nerve, marching in here, flashing that iron, and accusing good folks of... what, exactly? Devilry?"

"I'm not accusing anyone," Vi countered, her hand resting on the polished wood of the bar, her fingers just inches from Sevika's. "I'm asking questions. And right now, you're the only one here who look like she's got somethin’ to hide."

The tension between them was a physical presence, a crackling energy that seemed to suck the air out of the immediate vicinity. The music played on, the dancers kept dancing, but a small bubble of silence had formed around the bar. Ekko stood frozen, his face a mask of horror, his eyes pleading with Vi to stop.

"Vi," he started, his voice a choked whisper. He hovered his hands over her forearm, reading to drag Vi out of here if she pushes too many buttons.

"Ekko, you might want to take a step back," Vi said, her eyes never leaving Sevika's. She jerked her arm foward to the woman in front of her, creating distance between Ekko's hand. "This is between me and the lady of the house."

Sevika smiled, but it was a cold, humorless thing, a baring of teeth rather than an expression of amusement. "You've got fire," she said, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "I'll give you that. But fire can be put out. And you’re a long way from home. You don't know the rules in these woods. You don't know the things that go bump in the night."

"Oh, I'm learning," Vi said, her own smile just as sharp, just as dangerous. "I'm a fast study. And right now, I'm studying you. There's something about you. Something... off. You're too still. Too calm. A man is dead, and you're acting like you're bored."

"Boredom is a luxury," Sevika said, her gaze unwavering. "One that I've earned. I've seen more death than you could imagine. I've held dying men in my arms. I've watched the life drain out of their eyes. One more dead freighter in a quarry don’t even register. It's just another Tuesday in the ass-end of nowhere."

"Ain’t that right?" Vi said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, an intimate, threatening sound. "Then you won't mind if I take a look around. See if any of your patrons have a matching set of bite marks. Or maybe I should start with you."

She moved with a speed that was breathtaking, her hand shooting out, not towards her gun, but towards Sevika's throat. She wanted to see the woman's reaction, to break that infuriating composure, to force her to reveal something, anything Violet can get out of her.

Vi never made contact.

Sevika's hand moved with an impossible swiftness, a blur of motion that was there and then gone. Vi's wrist was caught in a grip of steel, a grip that was so cold it seemed to burn. The force of it was staggering, a power that was far beyond that of any normal woman. Vi grunted, a sharp, surprised sound of pain, as her bones ground together. She tried to pull away, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Sevika didn't even seem to be trying. She just held her, her grey eyes boring into Vi's, a predator stare in their depths.

"Let go of me,” Vi snarled, her other hand instinctively going for her gun.

"I would advise against that," Sevika said, her voice a low, dangerous murmur. The music around them seemed to fade, the laughter and conversations dying down as the patrons of the Silt Bellows began to notice the confrontation. Ekko looked like he was going to be sick. He had warned her. Sky took a delicate sip of her champagne, her expression one of light amusement.

"You're strong," Vi gritted out, her wrist screaming in protest. She tried to twist, to use her leverage, but Sevika's grip was unbreakable. "Stronger than you look,” she lied to make a blow at the womans ego.

"I've had a lot of practice," Sevika said, her thumb pressing into the delicate bones of Vi's wrist, a subtle threat that was more terrifying than any overt display of violence. "I've been holding things together for a long, long time."

"Is that what you call this?" Vi asked, her gaze sweeping the room, which had now fallen into a tense, watchful silence. "Holding things together? Looks more like you're holding court."

"Semantics," Sevika said, her grip tightening, just enough to make Vi gasp. "You came into my house. You accused my people. You threatened me. I think I've been remarkably patient."

"You've been evasive," Vi shot back, her mind racing, trying to find a weakness, an opening. "A man is dead. A good man— maybe not—but a man nonetheless. And you're acting like it's nothing. Like it's just another piece of business to be handled."

"Business," Sevika said, a strange, unreadable emotion flickering in her eyes. "You think this is about business? You think I care about your shipping lanes and your precious company's profits? You're a fucking fool. You're looking for a monster, but you're looking in the wrong place. You're looking for something that walks on two legs and leaves a trail of blood. But the real monster, the one that's been killing this town, killing this world, long before you ever rode in here... it doesn't have a face. It doesn't have a name. It's just... the way things are. It's the rot that sets in when the sun goes down. It's the despair that eats a man from the inside out. That's the sickness. Not some… storybook creature with a taste for blood," Sevika gritted, a drop of spit flinging into Vi’s cheek.

Her words were a torrent of cold, hard truth, a cynical philosophy that was both terrifying and strangely compelling. For a moment, Vi was taken aback, her carefully constructed anger faltering in the face of what she just heard. Maybe it was because of the searing pain placed on her wrist, but then Vi's gaze hardened again. The words were just a distraction, a smoke screen. A philosophical treatise on the nature of evil didn't explain the two neat puncture wounds on Mylo's neck.

"This ain’t a philosophy debate," Vi said, her voice dropping back to its usual, hard-edged tone. "And I don't care who you are." Her eyes darted to the beautiful woman, then back to Sevika. "You're hiding something."

"Everyone hides something," Sevika said, her lips curling into a sneer. "You, for instance. What's your story, bounty hunter? What are you running from? What hole did you crawl out of that you're so eager to find monsters in someone else's?”

"Let’er go, Sevika," Ekko said, his voice cracking with desperation. He stepped forward, his hands held up in a gesture of supplication. "She's just trying to do her job. We all scared. Let's not make things worse."

Sevika's gaze flickered to Ekko, a mix of annoyance with seeming fondness in her eyes. She held Vi's wrist for a moment longer, a silent, final test of wills. Then, with a flick of her own wrist, she released her. Vi stumbled back, cradling her wrist to her chest, the skin already turning an angry red. The imprint of Sevika's fingers was a clear, brutal bracelet of pain.

"You've got a lot of nerve," Sevika said, her voice a low growl. "And a death wish. But you're right about one thing. I don't own this place. I'm just a patron. Just like everyone else." She gestured around the room, a sweeping motion that encompassed the entire crowd. "This is our sanctuary. Our home. And you,” Sevika sneered, “are not welcome here."

Vi rubbed her wrist, her eyes flashing with a mixture of pain and fury. She knew she was beaten for now. Pushing further would only get her killed, or worse, thrown out without a single scrap of information. Fuck. She had to retreat, to regroup.

"Fine," Vi said, her voice tight with suppressed anger. "We'll go. But this isn't over."

She turned her back to Sevika, a deliberate act to regain some of her pride. Ekko let out a shaky breath of relief and moved to follow her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. They pushed their way through the silent, staring crowd, the music still muted, the dancers frozen in place. The air was thick with unspoken questions and a palpable sense of menace.

As they reached the door, Vi paused, her hand on the rough wood of the doorframe. She turned, her gaze cutting through the dim light, locking once more with Sevika's grey eyes. The whole room seemed to hold its breath. Her hand tightened around the lumber. If she wanted to sink her nails into the frame, she wouldn’t have to grip too hard.

"You can lie to me, and you can lie to them," Vi's voice rang out, sharp and clear in the sudden silence, a shard of glass in the heavy atmosphere. Her anger boiled in an instant. "But you can't lie to the dawn. And I'll be there, waiting. When the sun comes up, and you're still hiding in your little den of sin, I'll find you. If you're what I think you are... if you're the thing that's been draining the life from this town, ruining these people’s lives... I will find everything in my power to be the one to send you back to the hell you goddamn crawled out of."

Her words hung in the air, a final, ringing curse. Sevika didn't react, her face a mask of unshakeable composure. But Vi saw it. A flare in those sterile grey eyes. Not fear, not anger, but something else. Something that looked like... amusement. The last thing Vi wanted to witness.

The silence stretched for a beat after the door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing like a gunshot. The patrons of the Silt Bellows stood frozen for a moment, a tableau of shock and uncertainty. Then, as if on a silent cue, they all turned, their faces a collective question directed at the woman at the bar.

Ekko, however, was a mess. He pushed Vi out the door, his hands on her back, propelling her into the cool night air. "What in God's name were you thinking?" he hissed, his voice a panicked growl. "You can't just talk to her like that! You have no idea who you're dealing with, woman.”

"I have a better idea than you think," Vi shot back, her anger still burning hot. Vi ran a hand throughout her jagged hair that wasn’t under her cowboy hat. "She's not human, Ekko. I've fought men twice her size, and I've never felt strength like that,” Vi shook her wrist to let him see the evidence. “ And her skin... it was cold. Like a slab of meat in an icehouse."

"You don't know that!" Ekko insisted,"She's just... strong. She's always been strong. She's looked out for us, for everyone here, since before you were even born. She's ain’t a monster, Vi. She's just... Sevika."

Sevika. Vi already started to tense at her name. Vi wasn't listening, really. She was staring back at the jook joint, her mind replaying the scene over and over. The impossible speed, the inhuman strength, the coldness of her touch, the ancient weariness in her eyes. All the pieces were clicking into place, forming a picture she didn't want to see but couldn't ignore. The woman was a predator. A beautiful, ancient, terrifying predator, and she was hiding in plain sight, the queen of a kingdom of the damned. Vi was pissed.

Inside, the silence was finally broken. A woman near the door let out a nervous, tinkling laugh. Someone else cleared their throat. The piano player, a stooped old man with calloused fingers, tentatively plinked out a few hesitant chords. But the energy was gone. The joyful defiance had been replaced by a nervous, uncertain quiet. All eyes were on Sevika.

She hadn't moved. She still stood by the bar, her posture unchanged, her expression a wall of calm indifference. She picked up her glass, the amber liquid swirling in the lamplight, and took a slow, deliberate sip. Her gaze swept over the room, a quiet, commanding presence that seemed to soothe the frayed nerves of her patrons.

"She's just a dog with a loud bark and no bite," Sevika said, her voice a low, melodic rumble that carried through the room. It was a statement of fact, not an opinion, and it settled over the crowd like a warm blanket. "She's scared and lashing out. It's what frightened things do."

Sky had stepped closer to Sevika, her silk dress rustling softly. She placed a delicate, manicured hand on Sevika's arm. "She did make quite the scene, darling," she said, her tone a mix of amusement and disdain. "It was almost... theatrical. Like something out of one of those awful penny dreadfuls."

"A cheap performance," Sevika agreed, her gaze still fixed on the door. "And her threats are even cheaper. She doesn't have the faintest idea what she's dealing with. She thinks she's the hero of her own little story. If she come back, she gon’ know there’s no heroes here."

A man in the back, a burly dockworker with a thick beard, spoke up, his voice a low grumble. "What if she comes back, Sevika? With more men? With the law?"

Sevika turned to look at him, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. A flash of white teeth in the dim light. "Let her come," she said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "The woods are deep. And it's so easy to get lost out there. A girl like that... a stranger…” Sevika couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, “no one would even notice she was gone."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, a collective, primal response to her words. They weren't intimidated by Sevika. They were reassured. They trusted her implicitly, without question, without reservation.

She turned her attention back to the room at large, her gaze softening with a look of fond, almost paternal affection. "Now," she said, her voice returning to its normal, commanding tone. "Enough of this nonsense. Our guest has departed. The drama is over." She raised her glass in a toast. "Let's get back to the party. We've lost enough of the night to foolishness."

The tension in the room began to dissipate, the knot of anxiety loosening its grip. The piano player, sensing the shift in mood, launched into a lively, rollicking ragtime tune. A few people laughed, the sound still a little shaky, but genuine. The conversations started up again, the dancers returned to the floor, and the Silt Bellows began to breathe once more. The gorgeous woman started to sing again, the gold glittered freckles dancing when warm light hit them at certain angles.

It wasn't the same party. The initial, boisterous celebration was gone, replaced by a different kind of energy. A more focused, more intense atmosphere. The lights seemed to dim, the shadows in the corners of the room deepening. The music took on a different rhythm with a hypnotic beat. The laughter became softer, more intimate. The movements of the dancers became slower, more fluid, their bodies brushing against each other with a new, charged awareness. Groans and pleasured sighs start flowing throughout the air, settling into everyone’s bones.

Sky leaned in close to Sevika, her lips brushing against her ear. "She was an amusing distraction," she whispered, her voice a silken caress. "But she's right about one thing. The sun will be up soon. I don’t think we should waste the darkness."

Sevika's eyes squinted in the low light, ancient hunger drowning any other thoughts out of her. She finished her drink in a single, smooth motion, the glass landing back on the bar with a soft, final click. She looked out over the room, at her people, her family, her children of the night.

"No," she said, her voice a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards. "We shouldn't."

She gestured to the old man at the piano, a subtle, commanding movement. The lively ragtime tune faded, replaced by something slower, more haunting. A melody that spoke of ancient things, heavy low eternal notes, of the sweet, fleeting beauty of life. The room grew quieter, the conversations dying down, the dancers ceasing their movements, their heads turning towards her. Everyone in the room were now starving.

"The real party," Sevika said, a barely-there lisp leaving her lips as points of her teeth stretched as she grinned. "is just getting started."

Heres some fanart I made of Cowboy Vamp Sevika 💛❤️ each chapter will have a fanart pic of them that I make!! Stay tuned!

Chapter two (will update with link when it's done)

BLACK HORIZON MASTERLIST

[charayy]

i’m not even here to request i just love how all your titles are beyoncé songs:)

omg I was waiting for someone to notice 😛😛 there are some that are a few exceptions but majority of them are 💛💛