The old farmhouse you bought with your remaining savings turned out to be possessed by an axe murderer. The charm doesn't end here.
content: female reader, jealous ghost farmer based on The Conjuring: Last Rites, horror
Your house is haunted, yet no one will believe you.
You should’ve known from the moment you set foot inside. The agent was uneasy, a tad too eager to be done with the viewing. He frequently reminded you of the fantastic price, the one-of-a-kind offer you’d never find again on the market. It was spacious, it was in good shape. More rooms than a single lady like you would ever need.
“Speaking of rooms,” you said, “we haven’t seen the basement yet.”
The agent’s smile faltered for a fragment of a second. He adjusted his collar and glanced at the door, contemplating his response. At the time, you found the prolonged pause to be rather odd. Was there some damage that would come with hidden costs? It suddenly made sense that they’d try to sell you something broken beyond repair. You asked him to have a swift check, prepared to find the secret to this ridiculous deal. The man waited at the top of the stairs, visibly pale, while you descended into the poorly lit clutter of chambers. Old furniture, some posters. Plenty of dust. Yet, to your surprise, everything was in order.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you called from the darkness.
“I never said there was,” your agent answered impatiently. His hand was clutching onto the door, keeping it wide open. “I suggest we continue up here,” he urged.
After a brief chat, you signed the papers. Whatever anxiety you might’ve had about the place was quickly dulled by the massive discount. He told the truth about one thing, at the very least: you wouldn’t get another chance like this one.
Pretty little thing. The sunken eyes followed you with growing curiosity: your hurried pace as you carried the boxes around, the sighs that rolled out of your mouth after each trip, the strands of hair that fell over your face as you reached for the next item to unpack. He could sense the faintest tug at his hollow heart. Maybe you could be the one. Maybe you wouldn’t betray him like they did.
“Hello?” you abruptly stood up, facing the hallway. Somehow, you were overwhelmed by the dreadful feeling that you were being watched.
Nonsense. You were merely adjusting to the new neighborhood, to the idea that you were in the middle of nowhere. It messes with your head, the agent had explained, but you get used to it.
You assumed, however, that slight discomfort would be your only hurdle during this process. Hallucinations were one step too far and something you hadn’t anticipated. Was it the consequence of uneasiness? Were you slowly losing your mind? Either way, you were convinced you were seeing a man in your home.
It began when you first dragged your laundry basket down into the basement. The lights flickered right as you slammed the door to the washing machine shut, and you turned to look for the switch. Then you discerned it, the tall frame, the crooked features or a ghastly white face. With hitched breath, you fumbled for the flashlight. You almost didn’t dare to point it in his direction; you didn’t want to see whatever unholy creature stood in the corner. This was not the appearance you’d find in a human.
“Good God,” you exhaled, shoulders instantly dropping in relief. You managed to huff out a chuckle as you gazed at the poster across from you. You must’ve imagined the devilish distortions.
Except those same distortions kept coming back, each time clearer than before. The second apparition nearly gave you a heart attack. You had finished cleaning up the kitchen and were about to head upstairs, when you saw the same man at the end of the hallway, blocking the path. It had to be real. You could make out the shadow it cast on the walls, the weight of the body pressing into the carpet. You heard the floorboard creak as he took a step towards you. He was tenebrously tall and muscular, dressed in dirty, torn overalls. The face was smudged, save for the glistening smile – a deformed grin made of sharp teeth. As if the demonic traits weren’t enough to freeze your blood, your eyes eventually rested on the object he carried in his hand. A battered axe, dripping with thick, black liquid. The metallic scent inundated your nostrils, making you nauseous.
His feet suddenly jerked forwards. The movement startled you so much that you fell over, panic clouding your senses. He was going to kill you. Like a wounded animal, you crawled on your fours, sobbing apologies for whatever sins you may have committed, babbling pleads of mercy as you imagined chunks of your flesh splattered across the floor. You looked up, hoping to find some sort of reasoning within your monstrous attacker, but he was gone. The hallway was empty once more and you wondered if your sanity had slipped away entirely, until you noticed the dent left on the carpet, right where your assailant stood. You hesitantly put your foot next to the prints, gulping at the sheer difference.
The next day, you returned home with a heavy stack of newspapers you’d printed at the local library. You wanted answers, or at least a hint to guide you along this madness. You sprawled out each paper and inspected it carefully. There it was. ‘Local farmer murders wife after learning of her affair’. ‘The body of a young woman was found in the neighboring fields, covered in deep wounds believed to be caused by an axe. Police identified her as the wife of a local farmer.’ Your fingers hovered above the black and white photograph of the man; it was the same person you’d seen in your home. He had apparently shot himself in the basement, leaving a note behind containing his reasoning. One day, he’d find himself a loyal woman. You crumpled the page and threw it as far as you could.
You felt trapped. All your savings were poured into this damn house. There were no friends or family nearby, and you didn’t know anyone here. You couldn’t just pack up and leave. Where would you have gone? What would you have told your parents, that you were running away from a ghost?
“Fuck you,” you spat out, filled with resentment. “Here’s a tip, dumbass, don’t chase your potential partner with an axe.”
Humor was all you had to diffuse the suffocating tension, and those words were all he needed to soothe his yearning. So, you agreed. He knew he could put his faith in you. Surely you must’ve pitied him after reading what happened to his miserable soul, trapped here for years by a burning wish.
You woke up to your bed covered in wiled roses. You would’ve guessed it was a bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the decaying stench and the neatly folded note left on the other pillow: to my beloved wife.
Oh, no. You hadn’t signed up for this. In a frightened daze, you stuffed some necessities in a backpack. Perhaps someone else would buy the house, you decided in your scrambled thoughts. It would come with a loss, sure, but money was the last thing on your mind at that moment. You just wanted to be away from the surreal haunting. You’d get yourself a coffee, sit down, then think about all the technical details.
You darted down the stairs, towards the exit. No more of this nonsense for you. Your hand reached for the doorknob, but – in an instant – the blade of an axe landed straight into the door, grazing past your head. You opened your mouth to scream, yet nothing came out of your parched throat.
“Where do you think you’re going,” a deep voice called.
You couldn’t find the courage to turn around. Soon enough you felt it, that cold, heavy presence, growing stronger, drawing closer. A hot breath blew against your neck, and a scarred, brawny arm appeared from behind you, effortlessly retrieving the axe.
“’s not proper for a lady to wander without her man,” he drawled in your ear. “Besides, do ya truly believe you’d get rid of me like that?”
His rough finger caressed your cheek. You were much too fixated on the edge of the blade to notice his loving gaze, or his mocking smirk. You shook your head; it was, indeed, a stupid kind of hope to cling onto. He wasn’t bound to the house, at least not anymore. He was bound to you. He’d follow you everywhere, maybe even in death. You shivered at the realization.
“Sorry, mom, can’t make it this weekend,” you said flatly, staring at the hollow expression of the man holding you on his lap. “I’m busy with the new house. You know how it goes.”
an incessant blaring sound interrupts your nighttime routine. at first, you assume its from the apartment building next to yours. but then the smell of smoke slowly infiltrates any crevice and vent it can seep through. the noises of people frantically exiting the building doesn’t quell the alarm. you feel horrible for thinking what a major inconvenience this is. half of your hair is set with curlers. you grab your purse, keys and phone and follow the crowd down the stairs safely.
once you’re in the night air, you thank whatever gods may exist, it wasn’t your building effected. firefighters flutter in and out of the apartment units sharing an alley with yours. the flames appear somewhat tamed. neighbors mindlessly chatter—speculating what could have caused the fire. EMTs already set up a barricade but it doesn’t stop human curiosity. folks pressing tightly on the wooden barricades and incessantly pestering cops, firefighters or EMTs for any update.
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thirty minutes later, the flames have succumbed to the efforts of the firefighters. a lingering smell of smoke sits in the air. mud and water mix with the black ash on the building. you see familiar faces crying and holding each other. the firefighters did their best but half of the building got hit the hardest. guilt washes over you. here you felt inconvenienced by the alarm but people have lost most of their belongings and most likely have to start from scratch.
unexpectedly the crowd erupts with a thunderous clap and cheering. it takes no time to realize everyone is commending the firefighters for their hard work. you witness the civil servants peeling off their helmets one by one. it’s clear all of them are exhausted. then some women start dog whistling. with an arched eyebrow, you locate the firefighter causing all the chaos.
the woman stands over 6 feet. she already removed the top layer of the suit which dangles off one shoulder. the moonlight and street lights reflect off her brown skin glistening with sweat. you can hear the gulp of women, straight and queer, as the firefighter curls her fingers underneath her fitted and soaked white t-shirt. she brings the hem of her shirt to her face—wiping off sweat and lingering ash. the entirety of her abs are on display. without even straining you see a drop of sweat rolling down her stomach.
a few women start fanning themselves. you even witness one pushing her cleavage up for prominent display. you hear through the chaos someone announcing residents in your building are allowed to enter again. sighing your relief, you start following the crowd. someone grabs your elbow—trying to get your attention.
swiftly turning around, you’re met face to face with the firefighter causing the lustful gazes and audible desires. with the distance closed—you’re able to see the faded scars on her face and the beginning wrinkles on the corners of her eyes. something about her, her face, those intense grey eyes stirs familiarity in your core. she presents you with a crooked smile.
“don’t recognize me, stranger?” her voice emerges as if from the squashed flames themselves.
you narrow your eyes and let them inspect those features. her fluffy and long eyelashes. her silken black hair that frames her face. the richness of her skin tone provoking you to kiss every inch.
you gasp with recognition. “sevika?”
sevika lets out the tiniest chuckle and nods. her hand on your elbow remains. it sends warmth and comfort throughout your arm. now that you’ve placed the face—you cannot believe you did not connect the dots sooner. yes, she’s aged but she’s still sevika. maybe not your sevika but still the sevika you grew up with.
the same sevika who fiercely protected you and let you crawl into her bottom bunk. the same sevika who beat up the boys for touching you the wrong way. then wiping your tears away moments later. especially the same sevika that took you to the overlook and shared your first kiss with. your guardian angel you never stopped thinking about or hoping turned out okay.
“you’re a firefighter now?”
“well i’ve been one for ten years but yeah.” sevika hold on your elbow shifts, you almost cry, but she only moves her hand underneath it.
your eyes continue searching sevika’s. “i thought you might’ve moved away or…”
sevika knowingly crooks a smile. “or jail?” you cringe but sevika laughs. “yeah, well i came too close a few times. but must’ve had my own guardian angel or something because the last time i got arrested—the judge told me enough was enough. she sent me to some reform program. i ended up liking the firefighter gig so…permanently fighting fires.”
“i’m so proud of you, sev. really.”
“thanks, kid.” sevika takes one step back then inconspicuously checks you out. “maybe not a kid anymore. you’ve filled out well.” she reaches out with her free hand and lifts some hair away from your ears. “and you’ve grown into your ears.”
an instantaneous blush spreads on your cheeks and you swat sevika’s hand away. your fingers reach to situate your hair but sevika catches them. you watch as sevika brings your hand to her lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. the feel of those full lips sends signals all over your skin. it’s almost the same effect she unwillingly provoked on all those women. refraining from retracting your hand, you keep your eyes locked on sevika.
she only smiles. her lips spreading across your knuckles. dammit. sevika fully knows the effect she’s having on you. she drinks it in eagerly despite your limited reactions.
“you hurt or anything? you didn’t live in that building, right?”
you shake your head in response to both questions. sevika smiles again. “oh, good. not a damsel in distress anymore. i get off in an hour. you’ll still be up?”
blinking away your visible confusion, you think over her question. “um, probably, yeah? why?”
a laugh rumbles in sevika’s chest but it never escapes her lips. “because i wanna come over, pretty girl. it’s been so long. can you blame me for wanting to make up for lost time?”
“oh. no, i mean, yes.” you groan—feeling like that helpless teenager that always needed sevika around. “yes, you can come over. i’ll be up. im apartment 8C—ring the buzzer and i’ll come get you.”
sevika hums her acknowledgment then releases her hold from your hand and elbow. yet her touch doesn’t cease and she reaches for a few strands of hair. “it’s kinda unfair, ya know?”
“what’s unfair?”
“you’re outside in a robe and hair half done but still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”
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placing a kettle on the stove, you reach for two mugs and a container of all your special teas. sevika won’t know, but you never offer anyone your good teas. tonight feels special though. you can feel those grey eyes boring into your back. in the hour and a half window sevika allotted you—you showered, finished with the curlers in your hair, and found a pair of your cutest pajamas. the ruffles on the hem of the shorts barely grazed the crease meeting your butt and thighs. maybe overly ambitious?
when you had greeted sevika at the front door—you could tell her eyes didn’t know what to take in first. in sevika’s mind you were the picture of femininity. pink cotton pajamas hugging your curves sinfully. the cute little bow on the camisole teasing her eyes. she hadn’t expected her heart to momentarily stop at witnessing a fray strand you missed in your curler set. and the way you smelled? a mixture of strawberries and coconut with the faintest dash of something earthy.
sevika’s always found hyperfemininity attractive in the women she dated and slept with. but it was something about you…you wore it effortlessly and without second thought. it was apart of you.
she took in your apartment but eventually found herself staring at you as you prepared the tea.
“need any help, pretty girl?”
the words linger in the air before settling into your skin. when did she get so comfortable with petnames? the kettle whistles pulling you away from the lustful thoughts. “i’m good, thanks. do you still take a heap of sugar and milk in your tea?”
sevika barks out a laughter and you cannot help looking over your shoulder to witness the melodic sound. “i guess some things don’t change. yeah, you know what i like.”
squashing your nerves, you carefully pack some tea herbs into a tiny meshed infuser. once they’re packed—you steadily pour water over them in the mugs. normally you’d watch the tea steep, darkening the water, but instead you carry the mugs over to sevika. placing them down carefully on the thrifted mahogany coffee table, you rush back into the kitchen grabbing a pint of milk, brown sugar and some shortbread cookies.
there’s a sudden warmth that appears behind you. before you can properly investigate a calloused yet familiar hand gently rests on your waist.
“you sure you don’t need help with that…sugar?”
you’re hopeless against the drawl of sevika’s words. the end of her sentence hitting with a double entendres. you cannot place a time sevika’s petnamed you, sugar. she awakens another level of curiosity and arousal within you. if only you could see the look on sevika’s face. the knowing smirk of her affect on you. her pupils dilating and darkening in a way you’ve never been privy to.
you cannot help the racing of your heart. or closing your eyes. you don’t even notice you’re leaning back into sevika’s comfortable warmth until her hand shifts towards the front of your hip. as if she’s catching you and relaying the same message: i miss you.
“yes, you can carry the sugar, sev.” the words somehow manage to crawl out after the long pause between question.
sevika barely grunts her response before reaching underneath your arm. she purposely leans forward. her hips now pressed against your butt. you feel the encompassing safety of her broad shoulders brushing on your neck. you find yourself holding your breath until she pulls away. her prosthetic arm, this one different than the one from the fire earlier, smoothly retrieves the sugar jar.
then she steps back, as if, nothing happened and walks nonchalantly back to the couch. she might as well have whistled with the cockiness oozing off of her. you shakily inhale, one, two, three, then exhale, four five six. jitters remain nonetheless.
you find sevika on the love seat and taking up space at that. yes, you technically have room to sit. but you’d be forced to sit directly underneath her. despite the presence of another sofa, you are both aware that is not how this dance flows.
as sevika already suspected, you delicately lower yourself in the couch cushion next to her. your thighs have no space besides pressed tightly against hers. you cannot tell if you’re hallucinating or can actually feel the warmth through her jeans. not wanting to address the obvious silence you begin prepping the teas. a crap ton of sugar and then enough milk the color turns almost a sandy color.
sevika intently watches your actions. your fingers moving with remembered fluidity. she likes the color you polished your nails. finding herself wondering how they’d juxtapose against the pinkness of your spread pussy. sevika cannot deny the intense arousal building within her. it came the second she spotted your face. it dwelled and grew with her longing to hold you and whisper how much she missed you.
every second spent in your presence reminded sevika why she never lasted long in previous relationships. it took her some therapy and time alone to realize she unintentionally looked for you in every kiss, every hug, every fuck. no one ever came close to the calming water you poured on her raging fire. she could not leave the apartment without, at least, holding your face and kissing you tenderly then passionately.
“i learned to make chai. authentic chai.” your carefully plucked words barely relieves the tension.
sevika tips her head a little. “you did? why?”
you blush and hand sevika her tea. the answer feels rather obvious. “you said whenever we got outta there—you’d make me your amma’s chai.” you stop there. you cannot bring yourself to finish. but you know sevika can deduce and fill in the rest.
“did it help?”
“help with what?”
“help you feel closer to me.”
the words linger between the two of you. sevika’s expertly laid her intentions out with a few words. the bait flops in your hands—far too easy to deny or resist.
you turn your head—finally meeting sevika’s gaze for the first time since she entered the apartment. you expected another cocky smirk. instead you’re met with rounded eyes of vulnerability. they almost pool sevika’s desperation. even if you had planned on lying, on denying the obvious, everything vanished. reflected back at you was the same fifteen year old girl you fell in love with.
“no. no, it didn’t. nothing did.” you whisper out the words. almost believing if you speak the truth you’ll awaken from a beautiful dream.
sevika rests her mug on the coffee table. mindful of the coaster present. you focus on the action but within seconds her hand, no longer on the mug, cups your face. it emanates the lingering warmth from her mug. even without thinking, you reach for her prosthetic arm rested on her lap. you settle it on your other cheek. the balance of cold metal and warm flesh somehow feels symbolic. or maybe you’re searching for too much meaning in reuniting with an old friend…lover?
the magnetic pull draws you both closer until your lips are slotted together. moving in synchronization as if 15 years haven’t passed. as if you didn’t only share one kiss. all the longing and aching over pours into the kiss. your heart somehow thumps rapidly yet feels calm and steady within its cavity. when sevika tenderly swipes her tongue against your plump bottom lip—you know in that instance you’d do anything she wanted.
you graciously part your lips with a whimper. you feel sevika hesitate before she parts your lips by an inch.
“you always sound like that, pretty girl?” sevika barely murmurs the question on your lips.
too impatient to answer or decipher what sevika means, you take the inch of space back and unite your lips once again. sevika laughs into the kiss and indulges the neediness. she is just as desperate, maybe even more. her hands ever so slightly tighten their hold on your face. a tiny whimper escapes once again as sevika tangles her tongue with yours. she responds with a eager grumble of her own.
sevika, testing the waters, pretends to pull away. your lips, without hesitation, chase after hers. you both do this dance until sevika manages to guide you into her lap. any hesitancy dissolves. you are reunited with an old flame and you’re desperate to kindle it and let it burn and consume you. straddling sevika’s hips, panting into the kiss, sevika presses one hand on your lower back—keeping you firmly in place.
letting your body make the decisions, not wrapped in the cloud of lingering doubt, you nip on sevika’s lower lip. sucking flesh between your lips as your tongue strokes the inner softness of her lip. you relish the feeing of sevika’s hand gripping your back. the little groan she emits. her shifting underneath—as if you’re already getting her hot and bothered (you are).
her grip still firm on your lower back—sevika tips her head back on the couch. her eyes remain closed as she processes the weight of her actions and of you in her lap. your own lips tingle as you analyze sevika’s face. a smile stretches on yours as you notice her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. you’re already itching for another kiss. instead, patient as ever, your fingers work to remove the curlers from your hair. it’s no point in pretending you and sevika are not having sex tonight. curlers and sex don’t necessarily pair.
sevika eyes barely manage open as she feels the shift in her lap. she watches in intense fascination as you free your hair. there are varying curl patterns since some curlers where in place longer than others. your fingers delicate despite the slight panting on your chest. your nipples already pert in attention. you do not catch sevika’s gaze until you’re almost done.
she smiles without hesitation the second your eyes meet. her hands begin wandering up your sides. in the wake your camisole rides up with the action. goosebumps populate your skin. your fingers almost tremble pulling the last bobby pin. sevika drags you closer the second the final curl falls. your hair creates a curtain of privacy.
sevika rakes her eyes over the exposed skin and how your camisole rests underneath your breasts. “can i take this off, pretty girl?”
an immediate nod comes from you. “please, yes.”
sevika moans. she moans at your eagerness and how willing you are to trust her. the surprise only lasts momentarily as sevika’s peeling off the tiny fabric. you watch her lips fall apart with a flux of emotions on her face. once the shirt is freed from your hair—sevika opens her mouth to ask for permission.
your hand cradles the back of sevika’s neck and draw her closer to one nipple. “you don’t have to ask permission, sev. i want what you want.”
sevika moans again with the permission. you effortlessly taking control of what you want—turns sevika on more than she’s ready to admit. nonetheless her lips circle around your nipple. her tongue darts around the bud. it earns her the response of you bucking your hips and pushing her closer to your breast. she gladly obliges.
her lips suction your nipple with a little more pressure. a hand comes to cup the neglected breast. palming and kneading with expertise. her large hand encompasses in a way you don’t think any lover has before. her teeth carefully experiment with nibbling on your nipple. you whine in response.
your hips move on their own accord. the combined sensation of teeth, tongue, lips and her hands leaves you desperate and wanting. you relish in the feeling of her jean crotch providing the perfect friction to your needy grinding. sevika groans into your nipple once she connects the dots.
her lips move from your nipple. a string of saliva leaving a connection. she lifts her eyes to yours. a sound traps in your throat seeing the pure need in sevika’s eyes.
hushed and rushed words tumble from sevika’s lips. “i need to make you feel good, baby. please. please can i taste you?”
you are positive sevika’s never had such desperation in her words. because you know no one in their right mind could deny her. but with you…she’s uncertain. the years of yearning bubbling over into this precise moment. you capture her lips in response. trying to say; yes take everything, all you need and want, drink and fill yourself.
with grace of a ballerina—sevika turns the tides and she’s standing with you in her arms, bridal style. you don’t even have the opportunity to be thrown off guard. she moves around your apartment as if she’s walked in this space numerous times. sevika locates your room without instruction.
she lowers you on the bed like a delicate flower. you’re tempted to protest but you give her the grace. you both deserve a tender reunion. sevika hastily steps out of her jeans. she stands before you in her navy boxers and a black shirt. your breathing matches hers with built up tension and anticipation. sevika moves closer to the bed and you begin crawling backwards.
she catches your ankle, shaking her head. “not yet, baby.”
sevika kneels at the edge of the bed on the floor. understanding without her saying much, you position yourself where she placed you before. sevika nuzzles her cheek against the inside of your knee. your fingers find solace in her strands. your nails softly scratching at her scalp. with your soothing yet tingling touch sevika begins her journey of kisses up your thighs. interchangeably switching sides until her lips meet the hem of your shorts.
sevika’s eyes travel the length of your body and her lips spread into a smile as you lift your hips. chuckling lowly, sevika parts with enough space to remove your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. she loses her breathing at the sight of you bare before her. the tussles of hair on your mound travel down to your lips. sevika gently widens your thighs. her action reveals how drenched you are. she can hear the slick separating between your folds. her mouth salivates at the sight and sound.
her hands massage at your thighs eliciting a trembling moan from you. you whimper, looping one leg on sevika’s shoulder. digging the heel of your foot into her shoulder blade to draw her near.
“don’t make me beg, sev. come on…”
sevika groans and circles her arms around your thighs, tugging you closer off the edge of the bed. “i’m sorry, princess. i don’t mean to make you wait. let me fix that.”
she presses a chaste kiss on your clit. you’re about to admonish her for teasing but your words are caught in your throat. sevika roughly drags her tongue up the length of your cunt. she moans deeply as your taste floods her mouth. now paired with your scent, sevika knows she will never get enough. her fingers firmly grip into your thighs and she feasts.
her tongue expertly explores every single inch it can reach. she starts with the languid yet pressured licks. each lick causes you to buck into her mouth. too unaware you could potentially bust her upper lip. not that sevika cares either. she switches her methods and uses the tip of her tongue to tease circles on your clit. she basks in the heavy moan you release as she focuses on your clit. your hips move in faint circles meeting each stroke of her tongue. one hand remains in sevika’s hair—softly caressing her hair or on occasion tugging on the silk-like strands.
sevika whimpers into your cunt as you play with her hair. her whimpers vibrate on your clit in such a sensual way. it produces a high pitched whine that you’ve never heard from yourself. even sevika briefly paused to fully appreciate the noise that graced her ears. nonetheless she returns to worshiping your clit. as she sucks it between her pursed lips, her own hand snakes down into her boxers.
not at all surprised with the pool of her own arousal. her calloused fingers rub an immediate circle around her clit. she’s so wet and sensitive she can barely feel the roughness embedded on her fingertips. but that’s not the stimulation she’s seeking. the second sevika’s tongue dips inside your cunt—her two fingers push past her entrance. you and sevika simultaneously groan. sevika allows you the opportunity to arch off the bed and grind down on her tongue. the warm and wet muscle teasing that special, squishy spot inside of you. her own fingers knuckles deep inside herself.
sevika almost cries into your pussy with the overwhelming sensations. riding her own fingers while you ride her tongue. through the haze in her eyes sevika witnesses the beauty of you chasing your desires. she wants you to topple over on her tongue continuously. if she could, she’d put brush to canvas and honor this moment forever. it only instills in sevika she must never depart from your life again.
your fingers tug sevika’s hair. sevika replies with a whimper and somehow understands the frantic look in your eyes. her lips return to your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. she witnesses your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. her own hips speeding up in hopes of climaxing with you. sevika’s tongue dashes across your clit occasionally intent on seeing you lose control with the added stimulation.
“seeeev!” your back arches off the bed and your thighs squeeze her head in place.
those manicured nails sevika adores so much scrape over her scalp. she moans with the stinging sensation. her fingers make squelching noises as she works them rapidly. you’re too lost in the heights of your climax. unable to register sevika is fucking herself as her mouth sends black spots over your vision.
sevika, relentlessly, obliges after hearing a pleading whimper. her lips leave a departing kiss on your clit before pulling away. but sevika continues grinding on her fingers. she bites into your thigh as she chases her own release. it takes everything in you to prop up on your elbows. your eyes watch in widened excitement.
she catches your gaze and you forget how to breathe. the unadulterated need and yearning in those grey eyes set you off for another round. sevika seems to read your thoughts before they even form. she carefully retracts her fingers then climbs on the bed. sevika helps guide you towards the center of the mattress.
“you flexible, pretty girl?” sevika questions. her soaked fingers teasingly run through your folds.
“depends. why?”
sevika smiles too wide for it being such a loaded question. she spreads your legs wider then hovers a little above you. you instinctively press your hand into the shell of her lower back. urging the woman to apply more of her weight. sevika happily follows the non-verbal instruction. she sighs at the feeling of your body.
her intentions soon become clear as sevika presses her swollen and perturbed clit on your mound. you let out a shaky gasp at the sensation. sevika reaches underneath your knee and lifts your leg on her shoulder. a guttural moan escapes you from the unexpected stretch.
“fuck, i’m sorry, baby. too much? i can stop.” sevika is already attempting to lower the leg.
without hesitation you grab sevika’s wrist and shake your head. “no, please. i need to see you come. please…use me.”
sevika bucks her hips with the unexpected words you bestow on her. she leaves the leg on her shoulder. her works to find the perfect rhythm and fluidity to grind her clit down. she eventually settles on moving her hips up and down. it allows both your clits to feel stimulated when she drags down. her prosthetic fingers dig into your thighs as her hips work in momentum. once you’ve grown accustomed to sevika’s pacing—you lift your hips to meet her halfway.
you almost drool at the sight of sevika’s head thrown back in ecstasy. the rhythmic bumping of your clits. the sensitivity it invokes—one you’re bound to chase for the rest of your life. sevika lets out the tiniest mewl. it sounds so unlike her, you almost question, if it came from you. yet her eyes are half hooded and eyebrows scrunched as if in concentration. a thin layer of sweat shines on her face. she’s majestic.
sevika attempts to focus her gaze on you. a pleading tone laced into her words. “baby…baby…gonna…pl-please…”
you refrain from the shit eating grin wanting to overtake your face. “asking me to come, sevi-baby?”
biting her lip, sevika nods shamelessly, needing the permission. craving the permission from her most special girl. “please…”
“you’re perfect, sevika. i’ve missed you. go ahead, beautiful. come for me. let me see you…”
sevika turns her head into the propped leg on her shoulder and messily kisses the tender flesh. you continue meeting her hips despite sevika forgoing any sort of rhythmic pacing. she whispers incoherent love rambles and gratitude. a moan trapped in sevika’s throat gives away her platitude. she slams her hips into you, as if, coming inside of you.
her body tenses above you right before moans bubble from her lips. eventually her tension alleviates to waves of trembling. you remove your leg from her shoulder and instantly sevika collapses atop of you. her legs slotted with yours. you feel just how wet this ordeal made her.
sevika nuzzles her nose into neck. your fingers trace nonsensical shapes over her back. overtime your hearts sync as you listen to each others breathing.
“my pretty girl…it’ll be until death do us part before we are separated again.” sevika whispers the promise into your neck.
an exhausted yet satiated smile tickles your cheeks. “is that a marriage proposal, sevika?”
sevika cheekily nips the sensitive skin of your neck. “and a promise, sugar.”
You guys ever feel like you're having a fling with some franchise? Or exes trope for that matter. Like you used to be fully engaged in the fandom before they no longer your hyperfixation but when you coincidentally came across the posts about it and hit nostalgia lane, you then stop by for a second to relish the remnants and memories. You started to engaged with it back before bouncing again.
So not only draw my OC, but made the main DHMIS in the Mob AU where the three are detective and David/Yellow is a kid who was adopted by Red after his dad left him behind.
Basically, all three decided to become David/Yellow guardians.
A/n: I love SAGAU but realistically if I was stuck there I would be so sad I can't eat my culture foods ngl. Also y/n is implied first gen. Sorry lol. Also heavy leaning on y/n x Zhongli. Also title is from the song from The Crane Wives.
Also sorry if this sucks, it's kinda rushed and Idk what to do.
You were transported to Teyvat after staying up all night playing Genshin before eventually passing out Infront of your computer.
When you open your eyes, you weren't in the comfort of your room but instead on gold altar.
People you recognized Infront of you as you sat up in shock. You hand hurting slightly as you looked down at it.
Blood.
In matter of fact, the blood was gold.
You watched as the wound healed itself on its own but your thoughts get interrupted as someone speaks up.
"My Grace, we are honored to have you here. The imposter has been dealt with, we pledge our devote loyalty to you."
You straight up passed out after this revelation.
After that whole fiasco, and you woke up to a bunch of crying acolytes.
Turns out, you were asleep for DAYS.
But you eventually grew accustomed to everything, honestly it wasn't as bad you thought it would be. Besides the weird obsessions and yandere like tendencies But there's one thing you missed dearly.
Home.
You were home sick and even the acolytes can see that. You didn't smile, you look off into the distance.
You miss the parties, music, going to swap meet and family members. Even the novellas your mother watched and eating her cooking.
Hell, you missed the internet.
It was just boring.
Then you got an idea, why not share them with your acolytes?! You get to explain your culture and maybe try to recreate dishes your mom made with ingredients here!
You immediately stood up from your throne excited. You immediately ran out of the temple, with the archons following you panicked.
"Your grace wait!" Zhongli yelled out chasing behind you. " You can't just leave abruptly like this! Please take me with you. "
You stood there, looking at a map you summoned looking at the places. "Sure! Let's go!" You grabbed around his waist and flew to places you needed to go.
He was practically beating his heart against his chest. The Creator was holding him! His ears were burning red in embarrassment.
You literally searched high and low, for ingredients alongside Zhongli. You either found substitutes or you quite literally had to create the ingredients. But once you had everything, you went straight to the kitchen.
The Archons were begging you, that they can someone else do it.
But you declined them, deciding to do it yourself.
You think the easiest recipe to do would be caldo de res. It's the one you seen your mother do countless times. And with your powers it should quicken the pace.... probably
Some of your acolytes were watching you, making sure your safe and do any task you asked.
Venti stood by the door way, along side zhongli and Xiao. Making sure your grace was fine.
At this point your at probably your third attempt at making this but you were really determined to get it right or at least
You took a spoonful and blew on it, taking a sip. And God it tasted like home, you place the utensil down and started to cry.
Venti was first to noticed, and thought you were upset. " Your grace don't cry! We can have some one else do it for you if your tired! "
You shook your head, wiping your tears smile. " I'm not sad, in fact I'm happy. Really happy. Would you like to try? It's a soup my mother always made."
Venti was so honored that the creator would even let him try, let alone a recipe the creators mother made!
Zhongli and Xiao whined, they wanted to try it too!
"Don't worry, you'll try it too!" You smiled, as you got a small spoonful.
Venti blushed, he's truly being rewarded, to be fed by the creator itself. He knows Xiao and Zhongli are practically seething in jealousy over this.
You were oblivious to it, feeding Venti small spoonfuls laughing. " Is it good?" You asked practically shaking in excitement.
He nodded happily, unknowingly teasing the other two in the room.
You made the jealousy even worse when you grabbed a handkerchief and clean up ventis face. Getting to be touched and so close to the creator smelling your perfume/cologne.
The other two pushed Venti aside, practically begging to be fed too.
You stood their dumbfounded but reluctantly agreed as well. Spoon feeding both of them, their faces light up.
After that, you started cooking other dishes, your acolytes and followers were always so excited to try it.
They saw how much you emotionally improved so they was no discussion over it.
You also started telling them old folktales and customs from your culture. Scholars started to appear and request to write it down and study it. You even taught them Spanish!
Thought they call it, [y/n's] language. And etc.
Sometimes when doing a task, followers can hear you quietly sing songs in your language.
Your favorite thing, was reactions. The reactions your acolytes and followers had to your culture. They saw it as sacred, but you saw it as home.
You remembered talking to Zhongli because he remembers all of liyues stories and such.
"Zhongli, would you like to listen to a folktale?" You quietly asked, sitting on your throne. Him standing besides you.
" I'll be honored. " He says with a smile.
"There's different variations of this story depending of the region, but this is how I know it. Usually told to children to scare children into obedience. "
You cleared your voice, " long ago, a beautiful indigenous women fell in love with a man of higher social status. They lived happily together, having two children of their own. One day the man abandoned her, to either marry a more beautiful woman then her or a woman of his status. It depends either way, he leaves her. Her feeling threatened by this, consumed by rage and despair. She drown her children, meeting her own demised along side it. God curses her to wonder as a ghost searching for lost children so she can get into heaven."
Zhongli perks up at the story, " did you curse the woman yourself ?"
"ummm...yes?" You said unsurely.
" I see, a fitting punishment of her. " He says proudly.
" ahem, yes of course. Anyway she's called "la llorona" meaning The weeping woman..forever walking near bodies of water in search of her children so she may enter...umm.. heaven? "
Zhongli, tilts his head " what is heaven? " At this point your hands were sweating. " Ummm it's kinda like Celestia? But instead angels and stuff are there and it's like... Holy. You know? Anyway no more questions."
If you have curly hair, best believe the acolytes would be fascinated by it. Especially if they give you baths and pamper you.
You would teach Venti songs you know for example: hijo de la Luna.
Sometimes you sing them if you feel like it. Mostly to little kids.
The Adults are definitely not jealous.
The Archons fight each other over being your dancing partner. This is because you needed someone to show how to dance bachata. And ever since they just fight over that spot.
Same for being food taster, they like eating your food and being the first one to try it is such a big honour. You don't know why? Either way they like being spoon fed your cooking.
They all listen to your stories and take your advice very very seriously. It's annoying lol
You taught them your cultures customs, for example birthday customs. You're absolutely not allowed to have your face smashed into cake. They absolutely refuse to do that to you.
Also if you like spicy food, they probably be amazed at your spice tolerance. You'll probably mess with them by eating a whole chile Infront of them.
There are times where you do get very home sick and won't leave your room. When you do, they try their absolute best to comfort you.
Also you have given some of your followers Spanish nicknames for funsies.
Sometimes you and your acolytes would speak Spanish with you. They think it's like the biggest honor to understand your language and speak it with you. But you just think it's nice. Plus you get to have secret convos with people you don't want to know what your saving.
That's all I can think of , off the top of my head lol.
“Of course!” Edward shouted from inside his armor making you jump. You could barely get done asking your favor before he was eagerly agreeing. “I didn’t even finish-“ You started before Edward let out a boastful laugh. His armor reverberating with its force. “No need! I’d be honored to help you out. Just make sure to stay focused on the study guide and not my chiseled features.” He smirked, flipping up his golden visor to reveal his beaming eyes.
Though, midway through he went on an angry rant about how long the flash cards were. “Even the answers are 2 paged essays!” He complained.
Launcelot 🍄
“I’d be delighted!” He said cheerfully, dropping his scepter carelessly and immediately taking the study guide and cards from your hands. “You seem pretty damn excited just to read some questions on something you know nothing about.” You chuckled, leaning on the railing behind him. “No. Just excited to read them to you.” He smiled brightly, even though you couldn’t see, but the warmth in his voice gave away his delight.
Proceeded to struggle to read the cards due to him not being able to wear his glasses under the helmet. “I can read them if yo-“ you started, reaching your hand out to him only to have it slapped away by his metal hand. He turned away and held the card closer to his face. “I-I got it. Just gimme a sec-“.
Alexander 🍔
“-if you could help me study for an upcoming exam??” You asked gently.
…
“Alex?” You tapped his armor making him jump up and hold his green sceptor above his head to strike but soon recognizing his target “Oh! Hey bud-“ he stopped abruptly to release an aggressive yawn “-whats going on?”
“I asked if you could help me study.” You repeated, holding the papers out to him. “Ah! Uh- You sure?” He hesitantly grabbed the papers and scanned over the text. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be sure?” You said while taking a seat on the bridge railing. “Everyone says I’m stupid. You’re better off asking Baj.” He tried to hand the papers back but you pushed them back into his arms. “You’re not stupid. And plus, I’d rather be here with you than with my table partner.”
Both of you took a break midway through to eat some snacks from his suit.
The chocolates were cold and solid and the honeybuns were warm.. Made you wonder if he had designated compartments for certain food.
Zalia 🏆
“You can’t ask anyone else? I’m on duty.” She said coldly, not moving a muscle even when speaking. “Zar, please! I trust you the most.” You pleaded, staring into the black abyss beyond her visor. Little did you know how she was slowly cracking at your puppy eyes. She sighed heavily and told you to come back when she’s off duty.
Later that night, on her way to the knights sleeping quarters, you stopped her just before she could turn the corner. She released a long sigh before closing the door behind of her and following you to the study hall.
Though, very reluctant at first, she was a big help. Super precise and strict about your answers. Yeah, it was hella annoying- but you passed your exam with flying colors.
You baked her cupcakes in baking class to thank herd to which she was once again- VERY RELUCTANT. Even though once she was alone in his room, she melted into her chair after the first bite
Vander🕷️
He stared at the papers for awhile before taking them and reading each question to himself. “Uhm.. is that a yes?” You leaned in closer, trying to peek through is eye covering. His head snapped up, handing the papers back to Y/N. “The answers are A, B, D, A, C, C, D-“
“You’re supposed to read them to me!” You explained, causing him to stop. “Ah. Apologizes for my misunderstanding.” He gently took the guides back and read the questions in his gravely voice. At some points he stopped and stared at the paper for what felt like an hour. “Is everything alright?”
“Your handwriting is very pretty.” He replied blandly before continuing with the questions like nothing.
Oliver 🌸
“-if you could help me out with it?” You asked, holding the papers and cards up into view. You could visibly see Oliver flinch at her request. “Me?” He muttered, pointing to himself with shaking hands. “I’d love to help.. you.. but d-dont you think there are better choices? Like u-uh.. tutors? Or.. Taj?”
You shook your head and smiled brightly “I want your help.”
He quietly hyped himself up as he placed his heart scepter onto the stone rail behind him. “O-Okay then..” Oliver mumbled, hesitantly taking the papers from you.
The study session went great! You learned all you needed and passed the exam perfectly. Besides telling him to speak up every now and then, Oliver was the best tutor you could ask for.
Philip⚔️
Without another word, Philip was already reading each question with a clear voice. It was like being read a bedtime story by a robot. He was so punctuated and effortlessly perfect with everything he did. Edward wishes.
“I’m sorry to say Miss Y/N but..” He gulped “You’re handwriting is difficult to read-“
He spoke as if you were gonna beat him and take his nose. “How? That’s my best work!” You stepped closer to peak at the papers.
“Maybe your just used to reading fine print. My work is authentic.” You crossed your arms and remarked with a smug face. Philip stopped and stared at your face. Playful confidence.
He was also orderly and strict, seeing you be so original made him admire you greatly. “U-Uh ahem. Back to uhm.. this.” He cleared his throat and his mind as he began to read through the papers again.
Hans ⚡️
“No.” Hans said coldly, not bothering to even look at Y/N. “Oh, come on. Nothings happened in weeks! No one would even care if you diverted your attention somewhere else for A FEW MINUTES.” She reasoned, dropping her hip and placing her hand upon it angrily. “I can assure you it’ll be more than ‘a few minutes’. Especially with you.” He insulted. Y/N gasped, gently hitting him over the head with the papers “I’m gonna fail if you dont help me!”.
“That’s my problem how?” Hans groaned, his grip on his sector tightening.
After what felt like an hour of begging, he let out a harsh sigh before snatching the papers. He rushed through each question and told you to quit bothering him. “Thanks, Hans.” You giggled, retreating to your dorm.
“Oh, Hanny~ Whatever shall I do without you~!” Nathaniel sung in his best Y/N impression. “Dont worry, sweetheart, I got this.” Alexander replied in his best Hans voice. The two laughed at Han’s growing anger before Zalia ordered them to stop.
Nathaniel 🧸
“Yes! I mean of course!” Nathaniel chirped. You smiled at this enthusiam and held out the papers for him. Nathaniel then gently pushed your hands back with his free hand “Nononoo please, meet me after school and we can study somewhere quieter.” He insisted. Skeptical, you followed his orders and went off back to the courtyard to finish up the school day. Maybe he was just buying himself time to escape- or replace himself with another student. Nathan wouldn’t do that..
Right?
That same afternoon, you waved a goodbye to Avery as you made your way down the stairs of Royal High. As you got closer to the main entrance you saw Nathaniel waiting causally. Seeing him without his armor was really a treat, especially when his dreamy eyes would be focused on souly you. Relief washed over you to see his cheery smile urging you towards him.
He took you out to drinks at Diamond Beach. His treat, thankfully. The two of you sat facing each other at a bar table and chatted the evening away. In all honesty…
Little studying got done. But having him be so forward and kind was more than enough motivation to pass that test.
Taj 📚
Before you could ever begin talking, Taj placed his sceptor on the ground and held out his hands eagerly for the study guide. You were taken aback by his excitement but you handed him the papers. Taj reader quickly through the words before already having an answer for every single one. “Ok so the variable is a lie on this equation! And to find the true ‘form’ you have to simplify and use the denominator-“ He explained rapidly before noticing your overwhelmed expression.
Taj cleared his throat and took a step back to let you calm down. “Apologizes, dear Y/N, let me try that again.”
For the next hour, he explained each question in great detail and made damn sure you understood every step. Sooner or later, you were passing that class well enough to skip a grade.
Avery 👑
“Morning Y/N! Going out for lunch?” Avery chirped as you approached the entrance. “Nope.” You replied with a turn of the head. “Need something from your car?”
“Noopeee.” You turned your head again, crinkling the paper in your hand gently to give her a slight hint. “Want to study by the dream fountain?”
“Ugh! I’m here for you, Ave!” You broke, holding out the paper. “Me?” She questioned, taking the paper and reading over the print. Her face lit up in realization but then darkened again. “I have this same study guide, Y/N..”
“You have this class? Then you can totally help me out!” You cheered before noticing her pained expression. Oh no..
Both of you spent the night in your dorm trying to figure out that the hell each question means. What does it mean by ‘Ratify the Denominator’?!??!!
Leon 🧿
“So can you help?” You asked. Leon stared at the paper and took a longggggggg sigh. He hesitantly reached out for the paper only to see the subject of the problems. “Oh hell yeah I can help you!” He gasped, immediately dragging you over to the fountain to sit and go over it. Leon wasn’t the brightest but he didn’t shine through on certain topics.
“And that’s how to destroy the maribeth of the grounding rules.” Leon huffed, finally taking a breath from all the talking he’s been doing. “I think I get it now! Thank you so much- Oh! Can you take a look at this for me? Can you help with this aswell?” You pulled another paper from your bag and handing it to his gloved hands.
Leon’s eyes scanned over the words before shoving the sheets back into your arms and scurrying back to his post.
Notes-
Ratify the Denominator is exactly how my teacher sounds to me 💀 I’m not even sure I’m doing math anymore.
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