⠀⠀♱⠀⠀𝐈nfame⠀⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀21 . ⠀black . femme .
lesbian .⠀⠀﹙✸﹚ http:// taglist she / he / they
nsft © @confemme

Janaina Medeiros
Claire Keane
Game of Thrones Daily
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
dirt enthusiast
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
Mike Driver
NASA

Andulka
almost home
ojovivo

tannertan36
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

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titsay
will byers stan first human second
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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@countdykulaa
⠀⠀♱⠀⠀𝐈nfame⠀⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀21 . ⠀black . femme .
lesbian .⠀⠀﹙✸﹚ http:// taglist she / he / they
nsft © @confemme
I write these words with a broken heart… You may come across this post in a few moments, but for my children, every day that passes without food or basic necessities becomes heavier than the last.
My baby is malnourished, and the rash is worsening with the heat, poor hygiene, and lack of resources. As a mother, the hardest thing for me is seeing my children suffer and not being able to provide for their needs.
Food, milk, and basic necessities have become unaffordable due to high prices and limited resources.
I live in genuine terror every night, fearing I will wake up to a further decline in my children's health or some unbearable tragedy. We no longer need mere sympathy; we need a helping hand to save my children from hunger and disease and give them a chance at life.
Anyone who can please do donate to this campaign ‼️
Please, please donate now.
If this page suddenly goes silent one day, know that my brother Samer didn’t make it. I will never forget those who saw him suffering from severe bombing injuries, lacking his vital medications, yet chose silence and kept scrolling.
I feel completely shattered and deeply ashamed begging strangers for help every single day. This endless nightmare has stripped us of everything, forcing me to sacrifice even my own dignity just to keep my brother and my family alive.
I want nothing from this world except to see Samer healthy and free of pain, and to save my family from this slow death. Please donate so we can afford his essential psychiatric and medical treatments before it’s too late.
Please Please donate GoFundMe
I swear these donations are our only way out. Please keep supporting us to save my brother Samer. 🙏
vetted by gazavetters, the number is #75 !!!!
Samer is slipping away, and we cannot fight this alone. Every single second matters now as his condition worsens without treatment. Please, don't look away, your support is his only chance to survive this nightmare.
Verified!
Who do you belong to?
FWB! Abby Anderson x Fem! reader
When you and Abby go to see a movie together, you weren't expecting a bit of jealousy to be what finally gets the two of you together.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut, rough smut, dom! abby, sub! reader, jealous! Abby, lesbian pining, fingering, strap-on smut, dirty talk, Abby calls reader a slut, but reader likes it.
Words: 1.7k
FREE PALESTINE
Tomorrow is the first day of Ramadan in Palestine. In Gaza, hunger is already part of daily life. During Ramadan, we fast from dawn until sunset, with no food and no water.
My children, Layan, Sarah, and Adam, want to fast like Muslim children around the world.I just wish I could encourage them by telling them that something delicious is waiting for them at iftar, like every fasting child deserves.
If you can help us provide some food and drinks for them, it would mean so much.Your support means that fasting children will have something warm and comforting waiting for them at sunset.
New update 19 july 2025 (And now... simply help us survive.) My nam… Enas Alanqar needs your support for From Education and Safety to
Ramadan begins tomorrow in Gaza… and my children are waiting for your kindness and support.
Help my family in Gaza, I'm begging you 💔‼️🙏
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #523)
✅️ Vetted by @90-ghos here
Ramadan in Gaza is not the same.
While the world prepares for iftar with warm meals and family gatherings, we prepare with fear… fear of hunger, fear of bombs, fear of tomorrow.
In Gaza, Ramadan comes under war, siege, and unbearable prices. Basic food items have become luxuries. Flour, rice, cooking oil — things that should be simple — are now out of reach for many families.
We are not asking for comfort. We are asking for survival.
This holy month is meant to be about mercy, compassion, and giving. Please let your Ramadan kindness reach Gaza. Your donation — no matter how small — can help us secure food and basic needs in these impossible days.
Stand with us. Remember Gaza in your prayers. And if you can, please donate and share.
My name is Jehad's Khalid, a 30-year-old lawyer and a father fighting to save his family’s life.
Help support Jehad Kassab by donating or sharing with your friends.
Ramadan Kareem 🤍
roommate ellie...who cant resist you anymore <3
Warnings: 18+, college au, dom!ellie x sub!reader, rough sex, strap-on (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), oral, fingering, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking, hate fuck, praising, pet names
Word count: 4k
You hated how she took up space.
Not just physically…though fuck, Ellie Williams seemed genetically engineered to occupy every inch of your tiny double room like she owned both halves of it…but the way she existed. Loud music through shitty earbuds that still leaked, weed lingering on her hoodies, that permanent half-smirk like she already knew every embarrassing thing you’d ever done and was just waiting for the right moment to weaponize it.
You’d been assigned to her.
She’d been assigned to you.
Neither of you had requested the other.
And yet here you were, month four, still snarling at each other.
Tonight the air felt thicker than usual.
You’d come back from the library at 10:17 p.m. soaked from sudden rain, hoodie clinging uncomfortably, nipples hard under wet fabric from the cold. Ellie was sprawled on her bed in only boxer briefs and an oversized flannel that wasn’t even buttoned, one arm behind her head, phone in the other, scrolling with that bored, predatory laziness she did so well.
She didn’t look up when you slammed the door.
“Didn’t hear you come in,” she lied, voice low and rough.
“Clearly,” you muttered, peeling the drenched hoodie over your head. Your thin tank top underneath was basically transparent now. You felt her eyes snap to you even though her phone stayed tilted toward her face.
You turned your back to her, rummaging for dry clothes in the shared dresser. That was mistake number one.
“Nice show,” she drawled. “You auditioning for the wet-T-shirt contest downstairs or just fishing for attention?”
You whipped around. “Fuck off, Williams.”
She finally put the phone down. Slowly. Deliberately. Sat up. Legs spread. The outline of the harness she sometimes wore under her clothes was visible through the thin black boxer briefs.
Your stomach clenched.
She noticed.
“Problem?” Ellie asked, tilting her head. The smirk was gone now. Replaced with something darker. Hungrier.
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re dripping on my floor.”
You glanced down. Rainwater was pooling around your sneakers. You hadn’t even noticed.
“Clean it up then,” you snapped, turning away again.
Big mistake number two.
She was across the room in three steps. Palm slamming beside your head against the dresser, caging you. You could smell pine body wash and the faint skunk of weed and the heat coming off her bare chest. “Say that again,” she murmured against your ear. You swallowed. “You’re. Disgusting.” Ellie’s laugh was low. Dangerous. “Yeah? Then why’re your nipples trying to cut through that shirt, huh?”
You tried to shove her back. She didn’t budge. Instead her hand shot to your throat, not hard, just firm enough to make your pulse jump against her fingers. “Careful,” she warned. “Keep pushing me and I’ll push back harder.” Your mouth was dry. “Try me.”
Wrong answer.
She kissed you hard and deep. Teeth clacking, tongue shoving past your lips without asking, free hand grabbing a fistful of your wet tank top and yanking it up. Cold air hit your tits and then her mouth was there, biting more than sucking, sucking more than kissing, leaving marks you’d have to cover tomorrow.
You moaned despite yourself.
She pulled off with a wet pop. “Knew it. Fucking liar.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You grabbed her by the jaw and kissed her back just as viciously. She groaned into your mouth, hips rolling forward so you could feel the thick silicone pressing against your soaked leggings. She broke away only to spin you around and shove you face-first against the dresser mirror. Your palms slapped the wood. You watched in the reflection as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your leggings and yanked them down along with your underwear in one brutal tug.
“Fuck-Ellie-”
“Too late to play shy now, baby.”
The pet name hit like a slap. You hated how much you liked it.
She kicked your legs wider. One hand stayed on the back of your neck, keeping you bent over. The other slid between your thighs, fingers gliding through how embarrassingly wet you already were. “Jesus Christ,” she laughed darkly. “You’re fucking soaked. All that bitching and your cunt’s crying for me.”
“Shut-up-”
Two fingers plunged inside without warning. You cried out, knees buckling. She caught you around the waist with her arm, holding you upright while she pumped roughly, curling on every outstroke, hitting that spot that made your vision white out.
“Look at yourself,” she growled, forcing your chin up so you had to watch in the mirror, mouth open, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. “Look how fucking desperate you are.” You tried to turn your head. She squeezed your throat harder. “No. You watch.”
Her thumb found your clit and circled once…hard.
You bucked. “Ellie-fuck-
“That’s it. Say my name like that again.”
She added a third finger. The stretch burned in the best way. You were dripping down her wrist. “You hate me so much, huh?” she mocked, voice wrecked. “That why you’re clenching like you’re trying to keep me inside forever?” You couldn’t answer. Only broken little whimpers.
She pulled her fingers out abruptly. You whined at the loss.
“Pathetic,” she muttered, wiping her soaked hand across your ass cheek like you were a mess she’d made. “Get on the bed.”
You stumbled backward. She followed, shedding the flannel, stepping out of the boxers. The strap was black, thick, ridged. She’d clearly been wearing it for a while, the base was shiny with her own arousal.
“On your knees first,” she ordered. You dropped without thinking. She stepped closer, fisting the silicone. “Open.” You glared up at her even as your lips parted. She fed the tip past your lips. Slow at first. Then deeper. Until your nose brushed the harness and you gagged.
“Good girl,” she breathed. “Take it like you mean it.”
You hollowed your cheeks. Sucked hard. Let spit drip down your chin. She groaned above you, hips twitching. “Fuck-yeah, just like that. Show me how sorry you are for being such a brat all semester.” You pulled off with a gasp. “I’m not sorry.” Ellie’s eyes flashed. “Oh we’re gonna fix that.”
She hauled you up by the hair and threw you onto her bed…your bed was too neatly made, hers was a mess of dark sheets and hoodies. Perfect. “Face down. Ass up.” You obeyed too fast. She climbed behind you. One palm cracked across your ass…hard.
You yelped.
“Count.”
“One-
Another smack. Sharper.
“Two-
By ten your skin was burning, thighs shaking, cunt throbbing so badly you were humping the sheets without meaning to. She smoothed a hand down your spine. Almost gentle. “Look at you. All red and dripping. Bet you’d come just from this if I let you.”
“Please-
“Please what, baby?”
You buried your face in the pillow. Muffled. “Fuck me.”
“Louder.”
You lifted your head. Voice cracking. “Fuck me, Ellie. Please.”
She lined the strap up. Teased the head through your folds. Coating it.
“You sure?” she murmured, suddenly softer. Checking.
You nodded frantically. “Yes-yes-
She sank in one long, relentless stroke. Your mouth opened on a silent scream. Full. Too full. Perfect. She didn’t give you time to adjust. Pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Hard. “Fuck!” you sobbed.
“That’s it,” she panted, setting a brutal rhythm. “Take it. Take every fucking inch like the slut you pretend you’re not.” One hand wrapped around your throat from behind, light pressure, just enough to make your head spin. The other gripped your hip so hard you’d bruise.
“Say it,” she growled.
“Say-say what-
“Say you’re my little whore.”
You clenched around the strap. Hard.
“I’m-fuck-I’m your little whore-
“Louder.”
“I’m your fucking whore, Ellie!”
She rewarded you with a particularly deep thrust that made stars burst behind your eyes. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl when you’re getting railed, huh?” You were crying now. Not sad. Just overwhelmed. Too much sensation. Too much Ellie. She flipped you suddenly, onto your back. Pushed your knees to your chest. Folded you in half. The new angle let her grind against your clit with every stroke.
“Look at me.”
You did. Couldn’t not.
Her pupils were blown. Sweat on her throat. Lips swollen from earlier.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart,” she whispered. Almost reverent. “My pretty little fucktoy.”
The praise hit harder than the degradation ever could.
“Ellie-gonna-gonna come”
“Not yet.”
You sobbed. “Please-”
She pulled out completely. You wailed. She dropped down and buried her face between your legs. No teasing. Just tongue and lips and teeth. Sucking your clit hard. Two fingers curling inside. Then three. Fucking you open while her mouth worked you relentlessly. You screamed her name. She didn’t stop.
When you came it was violent, back arching, thighs clamping around her head, gushing over her chin. She drank it down like she was starving. Only when you were twitching with aftershocks did she crawl back up. Kissed you deep. Let you taste yourself.
Then she collapsed beside you. Silence stretched. After a long minute she reached over. Thumb brushing your cheek where tears had dried.
“You okay?” Quiet. Serious. You nodded. Voice wrecked. “Yeah.” She pulled you against her chest. Arms tight. “Didn’t mean to go that hard,” she muttered into your hair. “Liar.” A small laugh. “Okay. Maybe I did.” You hid your smile against her collarbone. “Still hate you,” you whispered. She kissed your temple. “Hate you more.” But her fingers were tracing lazy circles on your back. And neither of you moved to separate.
Will you leave my family to face a slow death? 🚑🚨
If you ignore this message, you are leaving ten lives to an uncertain fate amidst the rubble. 💔
Imagine the agony we endure:
I live in a broken body. A severe injury to my twelfth vertebra gnaws at me day and night. I have no access to treatment, not even a single painkiller to alleviate this suffering. My brother, Samer, who suffers from bipolar disorder, is facing imminent death. He has run out of medication, and his legs are severely injured.
We need to reach Egypt. My spinal injury is critical and cannot be postponed. Samer's physical and mental health is deteriorating by the hour.
Please, don't stand idly by and watch us perish. Your donation is the only bridge that can save us from the brink of death and bring us back to life. 🫂❤️🩹
Linktree Donation
A Life That Never Paused
“People here don’t count days — they count moments of safety between hardship.” (In Gaza, even during a ceasefire, children continue to be killed and humanitarian conditions are precarious.)
Days repeat themselves with different shades of the same uncertainty. Electricity appears and disappears without warning. Water is something we think about before we drink it. The sound of drones has become part of the air, like wind you can’t escape.
I spend most of my day inside. Not hiding — just waiting. Waiting for calm. Waiting for the next noise to pass. Waiting for the moment I can breathe without listening.
My daughter is growing quickly. She doesn’t understand why rooms go dark suddenly. Why the walls sometimes shake. Why her mother holds her a little tighter when the sky changes its sound.
Outside, nothing is stable. Markets open, then close. People start rebuilding, then stop. Plans are made quietly, because saying them out loud feels fragile.
And yet — life continues in small, stubborn ways.
Mothers still sing. Neighbors still check on each other. People still share what little they have, even when they are tired beyond words.
Hope here is not loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It lives in routines — in feeding a child, in cleaning a small space, in choosing to wake up and try again.
This is what survival looks like now.
Not strength like you see in headlines. But endurance. Gentle, exhausted, human endurance.
My name is Nadin, and I’m a mother from Gaza.
If you are new here, my pinned post tells our story — who we are, what we lost, and why I’m asking for help. If you’ve been here before, thank you for staying.
Even reading this means something to me. Sharing it means more than you know.
I don’t know what the next months will bring. But today, I’m here. My daughter is asleep in my arms. And for this moment, that is enough to keep going.
🕊️
🕊️ A Child’s Pain in Gaza — Please Help Khaled Get Medical Care
Verified by @gazavetters
#523
Khaled standing outside the emergency department in Gaza.
Ambulances, crowds, and chaos surround him.
Hospitals here are overloaded, under-resourced, and struggling to save lives.
Khaled during a medical ultrasound examination.
This moment was filled with fear and uncertainty.
Even basic medical tests in Gaza are exhausting and overwhelming for a child.
Khaled wearing hospital clothes before treatment.
Trying to stay strong, not fully understanding what is happening to him.
Khaled after surgery, lying in bed.
His small body is weak, his eyes full of pain.
This is not how a childhood should look.
We are living through unbearable pain in Gaza.
War has taken away safety, stability, and access to proper healthcare.
Khaled recently underwent surgery, but his suffering did not end there.
He urgently needs post-operative medical care, follow-up treatment, and essential medical supplies that are extremely difficult to obtain in Gaza right now.
We are asking for $500 to help cover Khaled’s medical needs.
This amount can mean:
Proper follow-up care
Pain relief and medication
A safer recovery and a real chance to heal
Please, if you are able, help us save Khaled from further pain.
🔗 :
My name is Jehad's Khalid, a 30-year-old lawyer and a father fighting to save his family’s life.
🔗To donate via PayPal
Help support Jehad Kassab by donating or sharing with your friends.
If you cannot donate, sharing this post can still save a life.
Thank you for seeing Khaled.
Thank you for standing with Gaza.
﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ BAD HABITS⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ stalker! reader x sevika ⠀ ❫
CW : autistic reader . PATHETIC reader . loser lesbian!reader , mean!sevika , dom!sevika , DUBCON , overstim , public sex , fingering , forced orgasm , public sex , dacryphilia . she had a drink but she's not drunk .
SYNOPSIS : every night reader comes to the bar to look at sevika. this time she's in for a rude awakening
I'm back who's ready for some loser lesbians
Obsessed between Sevika, Vi, Abby and Ellie...i am just a girl..
so late to this but you are so real
SUCH A BRAT
—abby anderson x reader ☆ 18+ only
[spanking, edging, kinda mean daddy!abby, r!receiving. not rly edited bc i’m 🍃 af rn. felt inspired to write after 1.5 years?]
“what did daddy tell you, huh?” abby’s pissed.
you’re shoved into your shared apartment, stumbling backwards as your girlfriend stalks forward. you were supposed to behave tonight. both of you know you know it.
you don’t reply fast enough for her liking. she all but bites in tone, “i said, ‘what did daddy say’? is my brat too stupid to answer now?”
being sevika's lap girl !
cw: explicit sexual content, dom!sevika, rough sex, possessive behavior, use of strap, size kink, choking (light), dirty talk, predator/prey dynamic, mild impact play, voice kink, marking
the haze of cigar smoke clings to the ceiling like a second atmosphere, swirling above the low-lit bar in lazy, curling ribbons. warm amber light pools from cracked neon signs and worn sconces, casting deep shadows over the poker table. the walls are stained with years of vice—cheap whiskey, old blood, and lust. in the center of it all, sevika sits like a queen among dogs, legs spread, a cigarillo burning slow between her lips.
you’re curled in her lap, perched like temptation itself, giggling as you nuzzle your nose against the curve of her throat. her scent—smoke, steel, sweat—lingers on your tongue like a sin you’d gladly commit again. you kiss her there, soft and slow, and when she tilts her head, you catch the glint in her eyes: dark, amused, possessive.
“played them again, baby,” you hum, dragging the cigarillo from her mouth and taking a lazy pull. smoke rolls smooth over your tongue before you slip it back between her teeth, grinning through half-lidded eyes.
she grunts approvingly, squeezing your thigh with one calloused hand. “ain’t nothin’ they can do ‘cept try to keep up.”
you giggle, resting your head on her shoulder while your fingers wander playfully over her inner thigh. cards slap weakly against the table around you, the men folding one by one, clearly outplayed and outclassed. sevika doesn’t spare them a glance.
“and they fuckin’ can’t, can they, babygirl?” she murmurs low against your ear. “ain’t nobody better than my pretty little thing.”
she punctuates her words with a hard squeeze to your ass, smirking as you squirm in her lap. her voice cuts through the bar like a blade, and none of the men around the table dare argue. they know they’ve lost—at cards and at the sight of her devouring you with her eyes.
you pout dramatically. “say… why don’t we get outta here? these drags make it too easy. i’m bored.”
she snorts, her smirk widening as she slams her cards down. “aight. let’s bounce then.”
she doesn’t even hesitate—pulls you to your feet and throws an arm around your waist like she’s claiming you in front of the whole goddamn undercity. “better luck next time, boys,” she calls over her shoulder, cackling as she steers you toward the door.
outside, the night is wet and pulsing with neon. the streets reek of rain, oil, smoke, and electricity. puddles reflect sharp pinks and blues from buzzing signage above, and somewhere down the alley, distant music throbs like a second heartbeat. but all you feel is her—broad, warm, unwavering.
you cling to her arm, lifting your heels to whisper in her ear. “psst… where we goin’? your place or mine?”
she glances down at you, eyes flashing. "mine. gotta show this pretty lil’ thing the ropes."
she pulls you into a narrow side street, the city falling away behind you. her place is tucked behind a reinforced steel door, almost invisible save for a flickering overhead light and the quiet hum of security locks.
the door swings open with a sharp metallic click, and her smirk is all shadow and promise as she looks back at you. "welcome home, sweetheart. hope you're ready for a long fuckin’ night."
the second it shuts, you pounce—pushing her back against the door with a giggle that bubbles up from your chest. your kisses trail hot across her collarbone, tasting the salt and smoke clinging to her skin.
“mm, fuck,” she groans, her voice dipping low. “ain’t waste no time, do ya?”
her hands slide over your waist, gripping tight. one moves to your chin, thumb brushing over your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth possessively. her eyes gleam like gunmetal in the low light.
“hope you ain’t too drunk,” she mutters, voice like gravel. “’cause i ain’t fuckin’ you like a delicate lil’ flower, babygirl. i fuck like i fight.”
she smacks your ass, fingers sinking deep, and claims your mouth with a bruising kiss—hot, messy, demanding. your body rolls against hers, coaxing her hand into kneading harder. when you pull back, breathless and grinning, a line of spit still connects your lips.
“you wanna fight, baby?” you whisper, teasing her with a bite to her lower lip.
sevika’s grin turns feral.
“oh, i fuckin’ wanna fight,” she growls. “wanna fuckin’ wreck this pretty lil’ body till you’re beggin’ for mercy.”
she lifts your thigh, grinding against your core with the thick weight of her strap-on still tucked in her boxers. the friction makes your knees weak. her mouth returns to yours in a hungry kiss, then trails down your jaw. she bites at your neck—hard enough to bruise—before sucking deep at your pulse point.
“fuck, i can’t wait to see these tits bounce while i rail this cunt,” she snarls. “gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
you bolt.
a flash of laughter and adrenaline. your bare feet slap against the concrete floor as you dart away, high on the thrill of it. the apartment’s dim—just slashes of red neon filtering through the half-closed blinds, painting you both in wicked, shifting light.
behind you: a low, delighted chuckle. slow, heavy boots against the floor.
“oh, this lil’ bitch wants to play hard to get, huh?” sevika’s voice echoes after you, sharp and hungry. “fuck, i like that.”
you nearly trip rounding the corner to the bedroom, heart hammering like a war drum. you dive into the closet, breath catching, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. every part of you buzzes—nerve endings on fire.
a pause.
then footsteps, deliberate. she’s tracking the sound of your breathing.
“damn, babygirl. you’re faster than i thought,” she taunts. “but not fast enough.”
the closet door swings open.
she fills the frame, all smirk and menace and muscle, eyes raking over your body like she’s choosing where to bite first.
“found ya, sweetheart. and now? i’m gonna fuckin’ devour ya.”
she steps inside. the space feels suffocating with her presence—her scent, her heat, her hunger. she grabs your wrist, yanking you forward with ease, her other hand sliding up to wrap around your throat. she squeezes lightly, not to hurt, just to own. her lips brush your ear.
“hope you're ready for this, babygirl. ‘cause i ain’t fuckin’ around no more.”
then she’s kissing you again, deep and dirty, swallowing your gasp as she drags you backward, body pressed tight against yours. you both stumble into the bedroom, breathless and wild.
you shove her onto the bed with a gleeful little growl, climbing over her, hips bracketing hers as you grind down on the thick ridge straining against her jeans.
“’vika,” you whine, pawing at her clothes, “want them off.”
“fuck yeah, sweetheart.”
clothes come off in a blur of heated motion—her shirt ripped over her head, your dress flung aside, kisses coming hot and messy between each piece that hits the floor. her calloused hands grope your tits, her mouth dragging over your chest before biting down on one nipple.
she sucks hard, tongue flicking as she fumbles with her jeans. you straddle her, underwear tossed aside, grinding against her until your clit pulses.
“gonna fuckin’ ruin this cunt,” she growls. “make it mine.”
“it’s yours,” you moan. “always has been.”
she flips you, presses you into the mattress, and drags her cock along your soaked folds. you reach down, lining her up, and grind down hard. she sinks into you in one slick, delicious thrust, knocking the breath out of your lungs.
her thrusts start slow but deep—savoring every inch—but the pace turns feral fast. her hips slam into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room.
“fuck, babygirl. this cunt’s incredible,” she snarls, fingers digging into your hips. “you’re fuckin’ mine.”
she kisses you through your babbled moans, one hand around your throat, the other groping your tits as she rails into you.
you sob into her mouth, clinging to her, shaking. “m’yours—y-you’re mine too—don’t stop, fuck—”
“that’s right,” she growls. “we belong to each other. now take my cock like the filthy lil’ slut you are.”
you shatter around her, and she doesn't stop.
she never stops.
hey heyy !! this is my first piece on here so i wanted to start out strong—and what better way than with sevika making reader bark n sob!! 🧎♀️ i need her biblically. thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed the filth!! <3
Everytime a RnB girlie collab with Chris brown I get angry .
making dom!sevika accidentally overstimulate
She always makes you work for it.
When you’re on your knees, Sevika leans back in the chair, one broad leg spread wide to let you in, the other bent and ready to squeeze your head if she wants to. You’ve gotten used to her rules, pace she sets, the way she grips your hair, the sharp little “slow down” when you get too excited.
But tonight? She tastes too good.
Your mouth works hungrily between her thighs, tongue lapping at her clit until her hips roll up into you. She curses, head tipping back, the scars on her neck flashing purple in the low light as she tightens her grip in your hair. You moan against her, sucking harder, and that’s what does it, Sevika’s thighs shudder around you, her voice breaking in a raw, guttural groan as she comes.