Warnings: none! Slightly suggestive mentions but nothing major.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who always promises herself to be gentle with you. Her job comes with so much violence and rough handling that she swears to herself that she will never bring that into your home.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who loves on you so softly, beneath her gruff exterior she's really a huge cuddle bug. She absolutely loves laying on top of you and squeezing you and your assets. Her favourite place is your hips, with her face buried in your neck, her breath warm on your skin as just holds you, fondling and squeezing the flesh softly in her hands to ground herself after long days. You are home to her. And home is safe.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who absolutely loves to kiss you, it's her favourite hobby when she gets home after a long day. There's nothing more she wants except for you on her lap, your head in her hands with she coaxes you open with her tongue. She's not a biter, she'll never draw blood from you- you're far too precious for that. Instead she switches out biting for sucking on your bottom lip or tongue.
The kisses are always slow and messy, but you both love them dearly.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika refuses to touch you expect maybe a kiss when she get home before she's showered. Being out in Zaun all day leaves her smelling of gunpowder, dirt, alcohol (spilled on her, she doesn't drink now she has you to protect), blood and a loss of sweat... its it's dirty job.
She hates that she even has to come home like this, you spend ypur time making sure you both have a clean home and she appreciates it, so she will not touch anything until she's clean and showered. And she has a separate laundry basket so that she doesn't accidentally stain any of your clothes.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who's face visibly scrunches up when you ask her to leave a hickey on you. She doesn’t want to bite you, she knows she's rough and if she's going to leave a mark it's going to hurt. And she doesn't want to do that. Even if you're begging for it... she finally relents because her girl will always get what she wants.
The mark you come out with is tiny. It's barely there, very easily missed. When you go to complain she simply shuts you up with a soft kiss until you've forgotten what you're complaining about.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who does not have gentle hands, they're not made for touching pretty things like you. They're big, rough, littered with callouses and scars from fights. Her knuckles are bumpy and scarred and no matter how much she washes them they alway end up dirty.
So when she touches you it makes her realise how lucky she is to have not only found you, but whooed you enough to stick around and love her for exactly who she is. Her hands always make you look so dainty beneath her, but she kinda loves it... it means she's bigger, she's stonger.
It means those hands can protect you.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who is unashamed of how much you've changed her. People always laugh, saying that she's 'going soft' or that she's getting 'too old'. Though they still shut up when she shoots them that one warning look.
If you're out in Zaun with her, whether it's something simple like going to the market, or it's a Friday night and you want to go to The Last Drop, she's there. A silent cocoon of safety, a towering, petrifying statue behind you wherever you walk. If someone won't move out of your way? They won't part like the sea for her woman? They'll know about it. You never really noticed how respected you were now- totally oblivious. Sevika noticed though, she always did.
˙⋆✮ Gentle!Sevika who never really cared about aging before you, life was one day after the other and she hadn't realised how quickly the years had crept up on her. So now, every morning before she leaves the house she'll check her hair and pluck out and greys. Not that she thinks you'd care or judge her... but for the first time in a long time she has somebody she wants to be attractive for.
Little did she know you'd always see those hairs when she was cuddling you with her face buried in your cleavage. And you loved them- because she always missed a few... you keep telling her to get glasses.
CW: smut, fingering, strap on, making out, grinding, slight fluff(?), aftercare
WC: 5.1K
!! Men & Minors DNI !!
Inseparable.
That's how people described you and Sevika. Where one was the other followed. It was hard to tell who was following who most times though. The two of you met in college. Not in classes however but in the college quad. You were in charge of organizing random events for students on campus and she was the random student. Your friendly hello and gentle way of disarming her was an impressive feat. By the end of the meeting you had convinced her to make a tie dye shirt and write her name on a glittery sticker she could put on her binder.
Chance meetings on campus turned into hanging out after classes on campus and blossomed into becoming very close friends. After the two of you graduated you remained as thick as thieves. Sevika was there for everything, your messy break ups, abysmal job searches, and drunken karaoke nights at the local tavern. You were there for her as well. Always. When she was kicked from her house due to unspoken circumstances, her major injury that landed her in the hospital, to her slow but steady recovery and new found interest in skateboarding. A hobby you were still trying to wrap your head around as to why at 26 she wanted to risk hurting herself again.
Throughout the years though something lingered between the two of you. It was heavy and bottomless like…like an all you can eat cinnamon roll buffet. The way you looked at her sent panic into her chest. Her jaw felt tight and her knee couldn't stop bouncing. The way you smiled when you told her about some random new interest of yours that seemed to consume your weekends. It could bring her to her knees. Your touch would always linger a beat too long when you'd hand her something. Your words became even softer at night when no one was around. The mischief in your eyes turning into something warm and comfortable.
Sevika liked you. Like Liked you. That was something she couldn't deny but she tried so hard to hide.
Other people saw it in the way she spoke of you when you weren't there.
"Oh where's….?" A mutual would ask when they caught Sevika in town without you.
The curiosity in their words soon met with a flood of information about you rather than a simple, "Oh she's been busy."
The mutual would look at Sevika with slight confusion on how she knew so much of your day to day. Or maybe why she was so excited to talk about it. And maybe it was the stupid grin that formed on her face, small gap in her teeth beaming in the daylight.
You liked Sevika. You like liked her. This was something you weren't much better at hiding either. Your family always asking you why Sevika was always brought to family dinners and gatherings during the holidays.
"I can't go anywhere without her. She's my best friend." You'd say with defensiveness laced in your voice. "My pal! My rock! Who is going to hang with me around town. And you know how much she likes sightseeing and-"
And you'd ramble on and on to a point where your family would just look at one another and walk away. They get it. She's important to you and it'd be weird to not have her for dinner. Plus it warms your heart to see her feel so at home in your childhood home. Or share the loveseat on the couch during holiday dinner, her legs propped in your lap and your head leaned against her outstretched arm. It was comforting and sweet how close you were.
But you're just friends!
One evening you managed to drag her out to town. She tried to feign nonchalance but her excitement threatened to show when she finally agreed. The two of you were at your favorite little hole in the wall. They served drinks, played loud guitar, and served great food. You were sat on your stool throwing back one of your 'last shots.' Your head was light and swimy. Your body was loose and free. And your attention was fully on the plate of fries the two of you were sharing.
"You should take it easy. Remember you have to walk on both feet to my place ." Sevika teased before taking a swig of her drink.
"I am! This is my last one I swear!" Your voice modulation had gone fully out the window. It carried louder than needed
"You said that three shots ago." She sighed out. Her eyes fixed on you once more. She reached for a fry on the plate.
Her eyes followed your movement's as you took one more tiny sip off the top of your shot glass. The line of your neck was quite beautiful. And watching the way you lick at your bottom lip to get the drop of alcohol off of it was mesmerizing. Her mouth felt dry once more and she turned in her stool to face the bar. Her knee began to bounce as she tried to find something to distract her. But, it was the slam of the shot glass that got her to look over.
"Hey, Vika?" You said almost bubbly.
"Yeah?"
"Can I see something real quick?" your cheeks rounded in blushing apples on your face. Alcohol or otherwise.
Sevika turned her body to face you. Prosthetic arm on the counter, the other resting on her thigh. Her thick brow twitched up momentarily when she noticed you leaning closer. Your hand reached between the two of you and cupped under Sevikas chin. Your eyes were big and curious now. The soft pad of your thumb traced over Sevikas bottom lip and over the jewelry that sat in it.
Why were you so close? She thought. Stroking her bottom lip like that. A warm sensation fluttered in her abdomen. Part of her felt like she was going to be sick or maybe jump up in excitement and ruin the moment. But she remained in place. Her eyes closed slowly.
There was a quiet moment and then you spoke. "Did this hurt,Vika?"
Sevikas anticipation deflated like a balloon. Her eyes snapped open not to long after. She cleared her throat awkwardly and started to shake her head.
"The piercing? Not really." She shrugged off the disappointment before it could settle in.
"Really?" You grinned and played with her bottom lip. "I want one. Did you do it yourself?"
You leaned into her and braced yourself against her knees, palms flat against them.
"You know I did."
"Can you give me a piercing tonight then?"
Sevika couldn't hold back this laugh. You watched her intently. A few giggles escaped you but your intent didn't waver.
"Oh you're serious? Ah…I mean if you sober up a little, sure."
Your eye brightened immediately and you sat back. "Really?!"
Sevika nodded, her reluctance only half apparent.
Part of Sevika hoped you'd dropped this idea by the time the two of you made it back to her apartment. But through slight stumbles and determined steps you'd managed to make it back there without any fall. Sober! You claimed. When the both of you got inside to her place you found the familiar seat of her recliner to sit in.
Meanwhile, Sevika made her way to the kitchen to at least make you a sandwich to soak up some of the alcohol you'd been drinking. It didn't take much convincing to get you to eat it, she was kind of a chef in the kitchen, and when she cut the sandwich in perfect triangles it just beckoned to be devoured. She crossed her arms and looked down at you while you ate.
"You sure you still want a lip piercing?" she asked as she headed down the hall to her bedroom.
"Hm.." the reality of the pain that it could bring hit you in that moment. "How bad is it? On a scale from one to ten?"
"Ten being the worst?" She said on her way back from her room with piercing kit in hand.
You nodded. "Yeah."
"Ah…you're kind of a wimp so, an 8."
You shot up in the recliner like you had been electrocuted. "Shut up…" your eyes narrowed, soon softening into small panic. "Really?"
Sevika walked to the living area near where you were now standing in alert. She smiled slightly at the look on your face. She had sat her kit on a side table, it beckoned to you ominously. Suddenly you were feeling even more sober than before. Sevika placed a strong hand on your shoulder and sat you back down on the recliner. Your ass. parked itself right at the edge of the seat refusing to relax.
"I'm not lying. These hurt like a bitch." she tapped her own piercing. "It looks cool though doesn't it?"
You nodded. "Yeah. But to be fair you always look cool so, it just enhances your cool factor."
She opened her piercing kit and started to pull out the sterile needles and other necessary piercing supplies. You watched carefully, your lip caught between your teeth. Despite your nerves you trusted Sevika with your whole body. You knew she'd only do what you'd wanted. That she'd make sure you were okay and that she wouldn't push you. The snap of Sevikas gloves brought you back down from your spacey anxiety.
"Okay let's see…" she shifted a tray of items in front of her. "Needle, jewelry, gauze, cleaning solution." She smiled and looked you over. "Tissues for the baby."
A small pout formed on your face. Your foot kicked at Sevikas leg playfully. "Hush."
"Make me." She chimed back to you.
"Maybe I will!" Your words snapped sassily as you attempted to slap at her arm. She caught your hand before impact.
"Did you forget that I'm holding the needle?" She dropped your hand. "Alright so first let's see if it works for your anatomy."
You sat quietly as she scoot closer. her prosthetic hand rested under your chin to keep in steady. The other dotted a blue marker on the spot she would pierce through. After placing the marker down her gloved thumb ran onto the inside of your lip to check for any malformations.
"Yur wealy godd ad dis." You managed to say with your mouth open from Sevikas touch. Your tongue kept bumping against the top of her knuckle.
She chuckled and looked at you this time. "Well, it is my job. Now stop talking and tell me what you think-"
"How can I stop talking and-" you grabbed the hand mirror Sevika already handed to you. Your head craned in every direction to get a scope of how it looked on your face.
Sevika watched you. Her gaze heavy and analytical, trying to read how how you felt about it. She could see the twinge in your eyebrow. That slight motion told her you weren't a fan of something. Sevika immediately grabbed the wet wipe to remove the placement on your lip.
"You hate it." Sevika grumble half halfheartedly.
"No I don't hate it! I…I'll be honest I'm just scared of the pain." you admitted, followed by a nervous laugh.
"Okay how about your ear then?" She turned your head to see your ear better. "Look at all the gorgeous real estate."
You couldn't help the ugly laugh that escaped your lips. Your own hand falling heavily onto her thigh as you evade her joke/compliment. After a bit of discussion you were able to agree to let her pierce your ear. Luckily for you it didn't hurt. What did hurt however was the straining you were doing to not react to her breath on your neck. Her voice low by your ear as she instructed you on what she was doing during the procedure.
You tried to ignore how gentle her touch was as if she were afraid to actually hurt you. How her knee was between yours when she stood up to take a few photos of her work. Your eyes stared directly at the seam of her t shirt lifting ever so slightly, showing a line of deep brown skin. The hardened line of her hip bones that brought the focal point of your attention to the happy trail that peaked right out of her underwear.
"What do you think?"
"Sexy-"
"Hm?" Sevika looked down at you.
You blinked a few times and cleared your throat. "Oh uh!" With haste you got up from the chair and scurried towards Sevikas bathroom to take a better look.
It was perfect. A small but roomy stud sat upon your ear next to your other piercings. Sevika walked in the bathroom behind you and leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. You'd caught her gaze, fond and studying your reaction. You turned to face her next.
"I love it!"
The wee hours of the morning beckoned you to sleep. 3:30AM and you were finally in a change of clothes provided by Sevikas closet. Some items from the archive authorized for use and some not. Ultimately Sevika didn't mind because it was you. She knew your perfume would be mixed in it even after the wash and that was more than okay with her.
"You can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep over here." She motioned to the small futon in the corner of her bedroom. It was old and rickety, frankly uncomfortable.
You crossed your arms. "You're so annoying. I tell you every time it's okay if we share a space. My place or yours, it doesn't matter." Your voice was in a soft reprimanding tone like it was your bed to command in the first place.
Sevika put a hand on her hip, her sleep tank top rolling back up over her waist again. You managed to keep your eyes up at hers while she responded.
"Are you bossing me around in my own space?" She laughed, half impressed.
"Don't act shocked." The smugness oozing from your words. "Plus I know you follow orders well…"
You then turned to climb in her bed. It was a large bed with a firm mattress and softer sheets. Your body snuggled under the blankets as you shifted to the side your ear wasn't pierced on. Sevika closed the door to her bedroom and turned off the lights. The only things that illuminated the room then was the small fish tank in the corner, bubbling with the life of a few fish and the moonlight peaking through the blinds. Your eyes tried to fixate on her figure in the dark as it approached the bed.
Finally the familiar sinking of the bed confirmed her presence. You could see part of her move in the darkness to remove prosthetic arm for the night, placing it gently on her side table. You smiled to yourself as you watched the way her body when she was focused on a task. You smiled to yourself because you knew you were the only one who got to see her light this. You smiled because it felt so good to be so close to your best friend.
Your best…friend? The words never felt more odd than in that moment.
Sevika finally laid down on her back. Her body in that usual stiff pose, head sank onto the pillow, eyes directed up at the ceiling and arm crossed over her midsection. You could see her eyelashes best at this angle due to the moonlight kissing them with light. You could see the rounding of her nose, the slope of her philtrum towards her plush lips. Your best friend was quite stunning wasn't she?
You swallowed. "Gnight."
Sevika nodded. "Night," and she said your name so softly.
Her body ached. The tension strung itself into knots as the night had progressed. She could feel your heat from where. She always hated how hot it would get when you two laid next to one another because she knew it wasn't you. Her nerves boiled her from the inside out. She heard your breathing, how audible it was compared to how peaceful you always were. Oh how she loved the sound. And from the corner of her eye she could she the way you were looking at her. Oh how observant her best friend was.
Sevikas lips parted to exhale before rolling over to her side, back facing you. She tried to sleep, tried to shake off the feeling that had been driving her insane all night. Hell ever since she'd met you. She closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore when she felt you move closer. The sweet tone of your voice as you whispered her name. Your hand snaking over her waist, pressing on her chest.
And she especially tried to ignore when you pressed your breasts to her back, whispered in her ear how much you enjoy being with her, and how badly you wanted to kiss her right then and there. Her heart beat out of her chest. But the tension in her body melted away. She turned to you just enough to see your face peeking over her shoulder. She'd damn the night for not letting her see your needy features fully or the way she knew your lips pout in want.
You cupped her face. "Can I kiss you, Sev?"
Sevika didn't even speak, a hot swell of energy coursed through her at once and aided in her next move. Her lips captured yours in a fiery kiss. Desire is the plainest word to come to mind to describe the way the two of you felt this night. Sevika pulled you close with one arm and you let her. Arousal poured into your body like a kettle that's ready to be taken off the eye. Your nipples harden with the prickling of goosebumps up your skin. Sevika groaned into the kiss, hungry, starving for more of you. You traced your tongue over her bottom lip playfully.
"Didn't even have to beg…" you mumbled into the kiss.
Sevikas grip on your midsection tightened. Her tongue was hot and wide. The muscle slid over yours with ease. Your brain buzzed with pleasure, she tasted so good. You couldn't help but straddle her waist. Her hand slid under your shirt, it slid over your skin with ease but careful not to go any further just yet. You pressed into her hips your legs spreading over her shifting waist.
All of this felt so forbidden but so right, pushing the boundaries of what friends could and couldn't do. The two of you didn't care, a primal understanding fixed between both you. Sevika pulled from you to catch a small breath. She caught a glimpse of the outline of your back as you leaned on top of her, perfectly sloping to the curve of your behind. She groaned, it was deep and lustful.
"Fuck…I need to touch you." She spoke low against your neck.
"Where do you want to touch me? Here?" You dragged her hand up that was still under your shirt. The warmth of her palm traced over the softness of your flesh, the pattern of your body, right up to your lovely breasts.
Your nipples we're still hard. In the dark, Sevikas lips parted in amazement that this was really happening. Sevika groped upon your breast, the flesh pliable in her hand as her mouth watered for a taste. Blood rushed between her thighs, her walls wet and her clit hardened. She wondered if you felt the same, but the way you moaned when she touched you gave her that answer. You sat up for just a moment and snatched your shirt off, tossing it to the end of the bed.
Sevika didn't waste anytime leaning up and capturing your nipple in her mouth. You moaned out a little louder this time, your hand placed on Sevikas armless shoulder to keep from completely falling away. Her tongue circled tenderly over those stiff peaks as to soften them.
"You taste so good," she said after a pop of her mouth on one side. "A-are you sure this is okay?"
"Sevika…" you drew out sweetly. Your hand came to find the back of her hair and stroke it gently. "Just touch me."
Your last words melted into another hungry kiss. Your hips moved without much mind, needy and slow. Sevika kept her hand on your lower waist as you continued your languid motions. You could feel her shutter under you. Her body felt so good, so sturdy, so heavy. All you could wanted was to feel her inside you and feel her weight pressed on you. It was agonizing. Her hand trailed over the curve of your ass, squishing it underneath her palm. She grabbed it with possession.
Another whine escaped your lips when she lifted you with a shocking ease and flipped you onto your back. The swift motion caught you off guard. It made you so goddamn wet. Her warm hand rubbed over the outside of the sleep shorts she loaned you (you took without permission). Hot, sticky, quivering heat radiated onto her finger tips. She could hear the mess you made from there. The soft squelch of your lips parting around her three middle fingers. You attempted to grind against them as to try and catch that aroused sensation again. She didn't wait much longer to pull down the shorts with your panties included.
"Fuck…" Sevika moaned under her breath. "So fucking beautiful." The lighting from the tank casting a illuminated image of your body on the bed.
Your thighs closed playfully and you rolled to your stomach. Between your thighs she could see the puffy folds of your arousal that waited for her.
"Oh you're so eager for me to play with you huh?" She teased, her fingers swiping down your warm dew.
You confirmed that question for her by pressing back against her hand. She could feel the way you hips were swaying. You felt her presence disappear when Sevika got off the bed for a moment. You reached between your thighs and rubbed at your throbbing clit. The wet sounds caused Sevika to scold you playfully.
"Don't you come without me."
"What's taking so looong~" you drew out your words.
"Relax, I'm almost done ."
Behind you, you heard the faint sounds of a harness being tightened once and then once more. The sound of her picking her prosthetic arm from the side table and hooking it back up to her shoulder. Frankly you'd never heard her move so fast to tighten it.
"Finally," your words were cut off by the motion of Sevika climbing into bed.
"Yknow…" she said as she stroked her cock. with some lubricant. "Are you ready for me?"
"Please…" you practically whimpered out to her.
The wind let out of your lungs as Sevika sank her strap into you. It wasn't too big, it didn't even hurt, but you immediately wanting to cum. The curve of the strap immediately pressed into your spot making your thighs quiver. Her weight pressed against your ass and had been something you had dreamed of for ages. The way her hips snapped like her excitement couldn't be contained. You tried so hard to fuck back against her but it was too much. All you could do was let her fuck you.
Your hips sank lower onto the bed allowing even more access inside of you. Her flesh arm scooped you back up and against her chest. Her hips still bucked into you, her cock reaching a part of you that you didn't know could be reached. Immediately your body shuttered and you reached up to wrap your arms around the back of her neck. Sevika leaned down to kiss you. With enthusiasm you accepted it, frantic to do something to keep you grounded in this moment.
"So beautiful…so..fucking..beautiful." She spoke against your lips, complimenting the sounds of your moans.
Another one rushed out of you. "D-don't stop Sev! Please please please-" you nearly broke when her hand reached down to circle your clit.
You couldn't help the drool that accumulated at the corner of your mouth as she fucked you senseless. Words could barely formulate themselves in your head the longer it went on. Just jumbled expletives and moans filled the space in your head now. Your hand reached down over Sevikas as it circled your clit faster. Your hand held onto her wrist helplessly.
"S-slow I'm gonna-" you twitched and tightened around her cock. You took a breath that tightened in your throat.
Sevika kissed your neck and down your shoulder with concentrated passion. Her other hand slid up your frame to cup at your breast. But she slowed just as you said. Her kiss trailed back up your neck and to the shell of your ear. She was careful not to bump the piercing as she kissed at the top of your ear. She breathed you in, your scent flooded her senses. You heard her let out a small groan escaping her.
"You like that?" She chuckled by your ear. "When I talk by your ear like this? Is that why your thighs were pressed so tight together during the piercing?"
Sevika slowed fully to a stop now and pulled away from you gently. Your mouth parted to beg her not to stop. You two weren't done though. Your bones felt like jelly as you collapsed back on the bed. Sevika got low to your body and kissed down your stomach. You shivered at her touch. The moonlight caught the line of her back muscles showing off with every movement.
"Sev…what're you doing?" You nearly whine, embarrassed.
Her lips kissed over your clit sending a shockwave through you once more. immediately you attempted to close your legs around her. She fought back with ease, both arms reaching up to push your thighs back by your knees. Your full self exposed. Sevika cursed under her breath something you couldn't hear. You felt her nose pressed against your pussy however.
She buried it against your folds as her tongue lapped up the mess you had been making. Your back arched from the bed and you reached into the darkness to get a hold of her hair.
"Sevika!" You called out her name in pleasure. Body writhing under her touch.
Her tongue spread over your folds slowly, tasting your nectar. She wanted to commit your scent to her memory for years to come. The only ya you bucked against her face and gripped on her hair like you couldn't let go drove her insane. You sounded so desperate and whiny. She wished she could see the faces you were making. You wished you could see the pussy-drunk expression on hers. Her mouth suctioned perfectly over your clit, tongue suckling on it like her favorite candy.
"Sev please I'm gonna come, I'm serious!" Another shudder rolled through your body.
"You're gonna come?" She asked breathlessly, leaning back up above you. "Let's come together hm?"
Her body pressed against yours as she repositioned herself. Your arms instinctively reached for her neck. And when they secured themselves around it, Sevika leaned in to kiss you slowly. In this moment, with your bodies intertwined, you both felt closer than ever before. Beyond physical but emotional, You didn't want the connection to end, you've wanted whatever this pseudo confession was to last a lifetime. Her kisses were slow and thoughtful. Your whimpers caught between her lips and tongue. Her cock buried between your walls, filling you with steady strokes.
Her moans caught in her throat with every motion. Your hand remained pressed to the base of her neck. You pulled from the kiss slightly and whispered against her lips for her to take the two of you there. Not to stop. How badly you wanted to come with her. Her breath was shaky and full of pleasure. She told you how perfect you were for her. How much she loved being in you. How she wanted you to keep holding onto her just like you were. You traced your kisses under her jaw and down her neck. Your lips tingled with the new feeling of her neck, her sweat, everything.
"Fuck I'm close." The words were tight and quiet by your ear. You could here it in her voice though. That sexy draw that was half breathless half determined
You wrapped your legs around her midsection a bit more securely. "Ah- me too..y-yeah right there!"
Sevika sped up in your final shared moments. Her weight aided in her pleasure as she grind into the base of her strap, the texture kissed against her aroused clit. In the process her strap scratched an itch so deep it sent warm waves up your legs and to your core. You tightened around her, arms tight around her back down. Your lips parted and you held onto Sevika tightly. Wetness pooled under you as your pussy contracted and released around Sevikas cock. Sevika came not too soon after you. Her grip on your waist tightened as she ground into you finally in a few final thrusts. Her own wetness slipping down her shaking inner thighs.
Her moans in your ears was the cherry on top. The deep rolling vocals of her taking panted breaths brought you even more satisfaction. She said your name as to calm herself down, hips still twitching and bucking. You soothed her, that's what you always did in most situations. Back into protective and calming mode. It was different though. Your hand smoothed down her back and you peppered kisses along her shoulder line. Calming affirmations followed next, like the cooling shade on a hot summer day.
"I got you…" you hummed softly, planting a kiss on her cheek. "You did so amazing, Sev."
"Shit." She said gruffly when she tried to steady herself enough to pull out of you. "s-shouldn't I be saying that?" You could hear the nervous smile forming on her face.
"Only if you really want to~." You said playfully. "Hey get back here-."
The bed had gotten lighter once more. You sat up a little on your elbow, body full of bliss. You heard Sevika moving around her room, straps unstrapping, drawers opening, the padding off her feet. When she approached once more she leaned down to kiss you a again with a towel in hand. She cleaned between your legs gently with the towel. No one had ever done that for you before. You felt a little silly for thinking this was the most intimate part of the night. But your face felt hot with embarrassment. You let out a laugh.
"What?" She laughed with you. "What is it?"
"It's silly." You shook your head. "It's nothing."
Sevika smacked your butt gently and hoisted you up off the bed. "Well then you can tell me in the shower right? We'll clean up and then actually go to bed ."
"I guess I could." You said suddenly feeling so shy. The way she was took care of you reminded you why you liked Sevika oh so much.
"Oh come on…" she smacked your butt once more. "I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything ."
a/n - Heyy…how yall doin? Yeah I haven’t posted in forever. I’ve realized I’m more anal about my writing than I initially thought so it’s been taking me eons to put stuff out. I don’t know who’s really keeping tabs on me like that but if you are — sorry yall ! Anyways another F2L to feed the masses. Hope everyone’s taking care of themselves and staying hydrated. <3
SYNOPSIS: You finally got your own place -a tiny apartment! However, you live across a woman who doesn't seem to be appreciative of your efforts to become friends.
It doesn't take long before a little 'rivalry' occurs between you two due to your differences.
WARNINGS: enemies to lovers trope, pure fluff, modern au, slight age gap (reader is early-mid 20's and Sevika is just her canon age), reader loves gift giving (this is relevant trust me)
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
A/N: I based this off of a reel I saw...
You've finally moved out of your parents' house.
After spending the past two or three years looking for an apartment - since it was the only thing you could afford - you've finally found one. One that's affordable and in a great area. What's even better is that you're now even closer to your workplace.
It seemed like everything was working out in your favour.
The day you moved in to apartment 203, was a day you considered a new chapter in your life.
You spent the day unpacking the abundant amount of boxes that you had brought with you, placing them in their designated spots. You had finished earlier than you thought you would, and you thought that maybe you'd spend the rest of your time meeting your neighbours - who you'd hope could be some new friends of yours.
You hadn't wanted to intrude on any of them without anything, as it would've felt embarrassing for you. So, you decided to rummage through one of your boxes that you titled "miscellaneous." Knowing that you had some unused candles that you had bought not so long ago, during your short-lived candle obsession.
You carefully placed the candles in a little tote bag that you had already unpacked - making sure not to break them. As you walked out of your apartment, you had decided to start with the two people that live on either side of your door.
Apartment 201.
You knocked on the door, a smile on your face and hope in your mind that you weren't disrupting anything important. As the brown wooden door opened, there stood a short light blue haired girl with braids in her hair. Next to her, stood an even shorter girl with similarly coloured blue highlights in her hair.
"Hi," you say, still smiling.
"Who are you?" The taller girl asks, her phone in hand.
"I just moved in," you say, "I just wanted to meet the people that live here and give them-"
You were cut off by the girl, "I don't live here."
Suddenly, the girl disappeared into the apartment - the smaller girl following closely She left the door ever so cracked open. It wasn't enough for you to look into the apartment, but it was enough for you to hear her call out for someone named 'Vi.'
It didn't take long before a woman that was noticeably taller than the previous girl with dark pink-red hair appeared in the crack of the door. As she opened it wider, there stood a woman with dark blue hair.
You noticed the matching wedding rings on their ring fingers - which allowed for you to infer that they were together.
"Hi," you repeated yourself again, "I already introduced myself, sorta, to your daughter but-"
You had been cut off by the woman with dark pink hair, "that's my sister." She didn't seem offended by it, she seemed to have found your assumption funny as she chuckled ever so slightly.
You blinked at her for a bit.
Before thinking that it made sense since the girl had mentioned that she doesn't even live there; you also thought about how obvious the relation between them was, since it seems they had a habit of cutting people off mid-sentence.
You chuckled with embarrassment, before apologizing.
"Anyway," you smile, "I just moved in and as a little way of saying 'hi' I wanted to give you this!"
You pulled out a candle from your tote bag. One that was iris and white tea scented, as you felt it fit the aesthetic of the woman with dark blue hair.
She smiled as she grabbed the candle, opening it and taking a small sniff of it, before introducing herself as 'Caitlyn.' Her British accent catching you a bit off guard as she spoke.
"So," you turn to the woman that you presumed to be 'Vi', "you're Vi then?"
"Yeah," she says.
"Would you like to come inside for tea or coffee maybe?" Caitlyn asks. However, you shake your head 'no.'
"I want to meet the other neighbours first," you smile, "but, I'd love to some other time!"
"Ok," she smiles at you, "have fun, dear." She said as she disappeared into their well-decorated apartment; you could tell that Caitlyn had taken the duty of decorating.
Before you leave, Vi tells you to avoid apartment 202 - the room across from yours.
"She's just not the most welcoming," she says before you can ask why. You don't say anything, you simply turn your body to face the apartment door.
You sigh, "thank you."
She smiles and waves goodbye as she softly closes and locks the door. You decide to heed her little warning . Despite you thinking that she couldn't be that bad, before walking to apartment 205, the apartment that's to the right of yours.
You knocked on the wooden door that looked identical to your own.
As the door opened, there stood an average height guy who looked close in age to you. His thick white locks contrasted with his dark brown skin, and his brown eyes had surprise on them as he saw you.
"Hi!" You smiled at him, "I just moved in next door, apartment 203."
"Hey," he smiles back, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You - nosily - look into the apartment, noticing the matching mugs and double-sets of almost everything; which allows for you to infer that at least two people live here.
"Anyway," you begin to open up your tote bag, planning to hand him a candle. "I wanted to-"
"It's you again," you heard a familiar raspy voice from behind you. As you turned around you saw the girl with blue braids, as well as the shorter girl that was hiding behind her legs.
"Hi!" You smile, "do you live here?" You say as you point towards the door.
She smiles and nods proudly as if it's an achievement - which it kind of is considering how expensive everything is nowadays. The little girl continues to hide behind her legs, as if she's too shy to face you. You crouch down to her eye level, still smiling.
"What's your name?" You ask.
However, the girl doesn't answer, and instead you hear someone respond from slightly above you. "That's Isha, and I'm Jinx." You stand back up to your normal height, now facing Jinx again.
"Then that's Ekko," Jinx says as she points to the white haired boy. "He's not important," she jokes.
"Are we gonna forget that I pay more than half of the rent?" He replies, chuckling softly. Jinx quickly steps towards him, leaving Isha standing alone in front of you for a moment, before covering his mouth in a silly manner.
"Don't listen to him," she smiles widely.
You giggle at her playfulness, before remembering what you originally were supposed to be doing.
"Oh right," you rummage through your tote bag, not realizing that Jinx is nosily peering into it as you look through it. "Here you go!"
You smile as you hand them a candle - one that smelled of burnt sugar, raspberry and a hint of lime. Before Jinx could get her hands on it, Ekko grabbed it gently from your hand.
"Thank you," he said, smiling.
"Me and Isha are hungry," Jinx says, "we're gonna go make something, c'mon Isha." Jinx calls for the little girl, before entering the apartment.
Ekko sighs and looks at you, "thank you again for the candle, have a nice day." He shuts the door after you provide him with a simple 'mhm.'
You decide whether or not you should knock on apartment 202.
Vi said you shouldn't, and clearly she had been living here for quite a long time. So, you had decided to heed her warning, and if you ever met the resident then maybe it's fate for you to meet her.
You walk back into your newly-decorated apartment that's not entirely organized, but it's cozy and that's all that matters. You checked your phone - which is slightly cracked due to you dropping a box atop it earlier as you unpacks - 11:01 PM.
You decided that it'd be a perfect time to go to bed now, considering how early you had work the next day, much to your dismay. You took a shower - hoping that the people you had just met hadn't picked up the hints of sweat after overexerting your energy while unpacking earlier.
Then you lazily proceeded with brushing your teeth and then doing your skincare routine. Before, finally plopping onto your make-shift bed, that was just a mattress as you hadn't bought a bed frame just yet; maybe you'll do that after your shift tomorrow.
Meep Meep Meep
You annoyingly turned off your obnoxious alarm, groaning as you realized how early you had to get up.
5:30 AM.
Begrudgingly, you got up to get ready for work. As you brushed your teeth, your mind wandered to who the resident of apartment 202 was. Why did Vi even feel the need to practically 'warn' you about her?
She could just be one of those grouchy neighbours.
The type that hates everyone and constantly reports people to the landlord, hoping to get them kicked out.
6:02 AM.
You finished up faster than you thought you would, so you thought you'd spend this time maybe just scrolling through your phone. However, you hadn't realized that you completely forgot to even set your wifi up last night.
You couldn't do it now, so you just decided to do it later tonight after you - hopefully - find a bed frame that won't hurt your wallet. As you stepped out your apartment, you noticed the door to apartment 202 being ever so slightly ajar.
The slight smell of smoke and coffee entered your nose, which gave you the sense as to who could possibly be living there.
Maybe it's just one of those trashy-older women that always blame their problems on everyone else. You hadn't taken much time to dwell on it, as you swiftly began to walk towards the elevator so you wouldn't be late for work.
However, before the elevator doors shut together, you heard the sound of the door to 202 being shut - rather aggressively - from the inside.
Ding
The elevator notified you as you made it to the main floor.
7:34 PM.
You were finally home.
You were so exhausted.
You spent nearly two hours looking for a bed frame, until you finally found one that was both affordable and somewhat pleasing to the eyes.
Having to set up your wifi seemed so daunting right now, so you had decided on just connecting your phone to a wired speaker to listen to music as you built your bed frame.
Knowing how thin the walls were, you knew it’d be better for everyone if you had the volume lower than you’d like it to be.
You shuffle your playlist, After Midnight by Chappell Roan beginning to play as you begrudgingly begin to grab the power tools your father had forced you to bring.
After an hour of pure frustration and tears, you slowly were able to make the basic foundation of the bed frame.
After another hour of reliance on the instructions and a changing of the playlist you were listening to, you finally finished the bed frame. Meaning, you now had to set up your wifi.
It took way less time than you had originally thought it’d be.
After a few calls - two of those being with your parents as you were confused - you finally figured it out.
You didn’t want to name your wifi anything weird, so you just named it “apartment 203” similar to everyone else’s. However, there was a name that stuck out due to its difference.
“APT203YoureSoLoud (202)”
Each apartment was mandated to have their designated room numbers inputted into the name of their wifi, so you already knew who it was. You felt embarrassed, you had hoped that you wouldn’t disturb people with the sounds of both your music and handiwork.
As an apology - and as well as a way to introduce yourself - you decided to visit her and give her a candle, despite Vi’s warnings. It took you awhile to figure out what candle to give her, but you thought about the smell of her apartment that escaped into the hallway earlier this morning.
Smoke.
Coffee.
Mahogany.
Maybe something bitter or stronger?
Nothing elegant like what you had given Caitlyn and Vi. And not something sweet. like you had given both Ekko and Jinx.
Maybe something with a more woody or aromatic scent? Something like cedar-wood, sage or rosemary?
After much consideration, you chose a candle that you were sure would work and would show your remorse. A candle with stronger scents of sage, rainwater, and oak-moss; with more minimal scents of ginger, smoke, and cedar-wood.
You stepped out of your apartment.
You could hear the distant sounds of Ekko and Jinx laughing in their apartment, and the sounds of Vi and Caitlyn presumably cooking some late-night dinner. You sighed before knocking on the door.
You felt intimidated as you heard heavy footsteps walk towards the door. Your anxiety hadn’t gone down after the door opened and revealed a muscular woman you assumed to be well over 185 cm.
She looked down at you, before speaking with her deep voice that caught you off guard. “Who the hell are you?” She asked, seeming annoyed at the sight of you.
“Hi,” you nervously smile, “I just moved into apartment 202 and-“
You got cut off by her scoffing, “so you’re the one making all that noise?” You sigh and nod remorsefully, attempting to offer the candle in your hands as a little peace offering.
“… what’s that for?” She asks, looking ever so slightly disturbed as if she’s never gotten a gift before.
“It’s to apologize,” you sigh.
She doesn’t say anything, she just looks at you and used her metallic prosthetic arm to grab it. She doesn’t say thank you, she just stares at you. As if giving her a gift is against some weird law.
You hear a door behind you open.
It’s Jinx’s and Ekko’s front door.
“Sevika,” Jinx says. Her tone as playful as the one she used with you the day prior.
“Hey,” she says, rolling her eyes ever so slightly.
Jinx walked towards you two, her hands on her hips and her smile as wide as ever.
“Are you playing nice?” She teases, giggling after her little joke escapes her lips. Sevika groans and shuts the door.
Jinx giggles as the door shuts, clearly proud in completing to annoy Sevika. You blink at her, and she looks at you.
“Don’t mind her,” she says, “she’s just an old grouch.”
Before you can say anything Jinx retreats back into her apartment, clearly only coming out to tease Sevika. You follow quickly after, retreating into your own apartment.
It’s late at night, so you decide it’s time to ready up for the night and plop onto your bed. Before being fatally woken up to your annoying alarm.
Meep Meep Meep
You groan loudly, pushing a pillow onto your face to muffle your groans and the alarm rings through your room.
You brush your teeth, do your hair, change into your clothes, and exit out of your apartment. When you step out, you see Sevika. It seemed like she was taking out the trash in her apartment as it was trash day.
“Hey ‘Vika!” You exclaim, smiling.
She doesn’t respond, just grumbles.
You sigh, thinking that your friendliness would've broken some ice between you two.
"Have a good day then," you say, disappearing into the hallway and walking towards the elevator just as you did yesterday.
You had gotten home earlier than you did yesterday, but you were still exhausted. You walked through the hallways, desperately forcing your eyes to stay pried open. All you could think about was plopping yourself onto your bed and sleeping until your alarm wakes you up the next morning.
However, your thoughts of your restful slumber are cut short as you suddenly bump into something rather sturdy and large. Assuming it was a wall or pillar that you hadn't seen, you hadn't bothered to apologize.
Your assumption was quickly shut down as you heard Sevika's gruff voice from above your head.
"Not even gonna apologize?" She retorted, seeming annoyed.
"Oh my god," you gasp, your face turning red from embarrassment. "Sevika, hi, I'm so sorry."
She doesn't say anything. She just scoffs and walks down the hallway and into the elevator.
Oh God.
How are you supposed to get along with her?
It seems like she already hates you and she barely even knows a thing about you. You defeatedly walk towards your apartment door and unlock it with your bare key, that you're planning to get keychains for.
You realize your embarrassment seems to have overpowered your exhaustion as you don't feel as tired anymore. You simply just walk into your room, and change into something more comfortable.
Despite it being still early in the day, you decide to get a bit of a head start with your dinner preparations so you can hopefully sleep early tonight.
You decide to cook something simple - mac and cheese. It's definitely easy, especially if it's straight out of the box. However, your exhaustion comes back and you fall asleep as soon as you dump the boxed macaroni into the boiling water.
You only wake up once you hear the sizzle, after the overly-boiled water spills out of the pot and onto the lit-up fire on the stove.
You quickly turn off the stove.
However, somehow the fire alarm goes off. You aren't even sure how. But the panic causes for you to accidentally knock down the pot that had your macaroni in it. Causing for boiling water to pour all over your floor.
You panic to quiet down the sound, waving your towel aggressively at the fire alarm that's placed on your ceiling.
Once the beeping calms down, you take a few breathes, not knowing what to do now.
That's when you hear loud knocking at your door.
You hope - pray - that it's not Sevika, as you don't want her to have any other reason to possibly hate you more. However, of course it had to be her at the door.
"What are you doing?" She scoffs, more annoyed than she was earlier.
"Wow," you sigh, "not even asking if I'm ok?" You attempt to joke, hoping that it'll lessen the possible berating that she'll give you.
"I don't care what happens to you," she says, crossing her arms.
Hearing her say that makes something click in your brain.
What does it matter if she likes you.
Why not just stoop to her level.
"Y'know what," you snapped, "I give up."
Sevika looks at you, confused as to what you're saying. Before she can ask for any clarification, you slammed the door in her face. Similarly to the way she had previously slammed her door this morning.
You begrudgingly cleaned up the boiling water - once it cooled down - and the macaroni that was on your floor.
You just angrily cleaned up, not knowing why you were so riled up about what Sevika said.
But, you knew that you refuse to even acknowledge her if she's going to be like this.
TAGS - Age Gap, Dubious Consent, Non-Negotiated Dom/Sub, Non-Negotiated Pet Play, Overstimulation, Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, Scissoring, Minor Character Death
-
SUMMARY - “That was me, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you say, flushing with shame.
She hums, contemplative, lifting one hand to smooth some hair out of your face. “Well, what do we say?” she prompts, leaning toward you.
“I’m sorry,” you say, after a moment, heart ticking up. Her hand still on your waist squeezes, as if to catch it before it runs off.
“Good girl,” she says, cupping your cheek in her cold hand, thumb on your bottom lip before she pulls back and steps into your father’s office.
//
Or: the one where your father invites a guest over for business but she has a strange fascination with you. CARMILLA!AU
read on ao3 here
-
Even the flies are dying in the thick summer heat this year. It’s clogging up your lungs, waking you up in the night, sweat slicking every movement.
It’s the type of heat that you think that you’ve lived in your whole life, fogging up your mind, dragging your limbs down.
Valeria is a rush of cold water, doused over your head and you blink awake for the first time, wide eyed and shaking like a new born lamb.
She arrives on a Tuesday, late into the evening. Her husband - now deceased - had some kind of business with your father that she has inherited and must now sort. The details are lost on you, irrelevant with the knowledge that there will be another woman in your home.
Half-cooked daydreams of linking arms with another young girl, braiding each other’s hair. You imagine that she will have all of the same interests as you, and there won’t be any gaps of conversation, not when it can be filled with the sounds of both of you laughing or whispering.
You and your father stand outside, waiting to receive Lady Valeria. Your father supports your arm. It’s hot, but you could still take a chill like it was easy. A servant waits just behind you, ready to rush you back to bed if you have another dizzy spell.
The carriage rumbles up the path, a dark black thing pulled by horses that you can already see huffing.
“Has she travelled far?” you ask, but your father shushes you, giving you a vague pat on the back of your hand.
Your palm is crushed in the curve of his elbow, but you don’t say anything further. There have been a few times that you’ve gone down and only snapped away from the ground by the grip that your father has on you.
Your father wants the image of a dutiful daughter beside her father when he receives his visitor, so you know what to do. You ignore the pinch of an oncoming headache as it needles your temple, holding yourself still and quiet beside your father.
The carriage finally reaches you both, kicking up dirt and muck.
A woman steps out of the carriage and daydreams of a girl who will giggle with you at dinner flee your head.
She’s beautiful, in the way that you imagine a man would want his bride to look. Coy eyes peer out from beneath a dark veil. She’s older than you, most likely your father’s age, but her hair is still dark under her bonnet. Your father gets a cursory glance, but she lingers on you as a slow smile stretches across her face.
“Apologies, for the late hour,” she drawls. You feel your father bristle beside you. Her tone is hard to place. The words are correct, but she speaks like a cat with a mouse in its paw.
Your father waves her apologies away, ever the diplomat and guides her inside. A servant takes your arm in his place and helps you back into the house.
Valeria looks over her shoulder, and you see one of her eyes beyond the veil. Dark and sharp, honed in on you. She gives you a conspiratorial smile, before she turns back to your father.
You aren’t sure what to do with it, bowing your head and stepping lightly up the steps into the foyer.
The two of them disappear into the sitting room for a drink before bed but you are guided past to head up to your room.
Frozen in time, you peak into the doorway as you walk past. Your father’s strong back as he walks towards the table. And Lady Valeria, looking right back at you as if she knew that you were watching.
You keep walking and the sitting room drops out of sight, but you feel her gaze chase you up into your room.
-
Valeria sets herself up in your home like a spider in the corner of your room. You go downstairs for breakfast and startle at the sight of another person at the table.
Your mother has been gone for years, breakfast is usually spent quietly as your father reads the newspaper and you lightly sip some tea.
Early morning sun usually warms the space, beating on the back of your neck to chase away any of the chill that lingers at night.
This morning, the curtains are drawn sharply over all the windows and the candles are lit earlier than usual. You blink, wondering if you’ve slept in, all the way to dinner.
“Good morning,” Valeria greets, standing up and gliding over to you. The veil is gone, giving you complete access to her face. Her eyes crease at the corner, her lips still painted that same shade of red they were yesterday.
“Good morning,” you respond, able to remember your manners at least. You don’t think you’ve seen anyone as beautiful as her before, unsure what to do with yourself now in the face of it.
She reaches over and clasps your hand in her own, guiding you over to the table. “I was saying to your father that I’m grateful to you for opening your home to me,” she says, her mouth twisting with a smile.
“Of course, whatever you need,” you say, eyes darting toward your father who nods.
“So kind,” Valeria muses, her thumb on the back of your hand. Her skin is dark but colder than you think it should be. You could outline the shape of her thumb without looking given how distinct the cold is from your own skin. She smooths it over and you feel it, as sharp as a smear of acrylic paint.
You take a seat and she sits next to you. She isn’t meant to, the rare guests that you’ve had are meant to sit next to your father, across from you. You glance over at your father, his mouth set in disapproval but he stays quiet. “If there is anything I can do to help you settle in, please let me know. We rarely get visitors out here,” you tell her, tucking your skirts under your legs.
Your hand is still clasped in her own but she lets go when your fingers flex nervously. “It was the same in my estate. I think my husband brought in a visitor once every few years if we were lucky,” she replies, giving you a smile when you giggle.
You cannot gauge what age she is meant to be. She’s older than you, and you had thought her close ages with your father outside, but under the flick of candlelight, and when she smiles, she transforms into someone younger.
Her and your father take their leave after breakfast. “Is there anything I could help with?” you ask, placing your fork down.
“Nothing to concern yourself with,” your father tells you, patting your hand as he stands.
You hunch your shoulders before you force them back, refusing to cause a scene in front of a guest. You turn and catch Valeria watching you with keen eyes as your father leads the way out of the room.
She follows and you’re left in the dining room, alone. Valeria’s plate sits, full, next to you. Perfect triangles of toast, jam on the side. The knife, freshly cleaned and untouched.
You take the toast and bite into it, leave it on your plate and cover it with a napkin. Each crumb is like grit in your gums and you feel it even after you wash your mouth out later.
-
A servant is found dead in the woods next to your home. A young man, someone who worked in the gardens. You barely knew him, but you feel your vision swim when you hear the news.
You almost go down, your father banging his knee against his desk when you stumble, but it’s Lady Valeria who catches you. Your arm yanks, caught in her grasp. There’s an inane moment where you feel like a fish caught in a reel, your father’s office turned liquid around you while you try to steady yourself.
“I’ve got you, there we go,” Valeria murmurs, pulling you back up to your feet.
Your father rounds the desk, holding up the back of your shoulders. You can barely see, vision thick with tears, but you feel Valeria’s grip dig into your arms when your father tugs you closer to him. Fingernails into skin, past it and into flesh where no one has touched you before.
Then - gone, and your father is holding you. “There we go, let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs and you’re guided away and up the stairs. Rag doll, your feet useless and catching on each of the steps.
“I don’t understand, what happened?” you try to ask, but your father just shushes you and lays you down. You try to cling to him but he shushes you again, making your cling to yourself instead.
“She’s very sensitive,” you hear him murmur and you curl up on your side. The door shuts and you’re left alone, staring at a spot along the side of your wall.
The door cracks open but you don’t look at him.
A pressure on the bed, dipping it behind the curve of your knee. A cold hand on your hip and you stiffen up. Valeria clucks her tongue at you, leaning over you to peer down at your face. “What has made my girl so upset, huh?” she asks, bracing her other hand on the bed, caging you in.
You blink, unsure what to address first. “Someone died, that’s horrible,” you say, confused.
Her hand slides up your waist, smoothing down the wrinkles of your gown. “And why does that upset you so much?” she asks, thumb along the seam of your gown.
She sounds genuinely curious, and when you turn your head to look at her, there’s none of the mocking look she usually has. Her eyes peer down at you, wider than you’ve seen them. “His life has been cut short?” you reply, trying to match her genuine question, but unsure how to explain why death is upsetting.
She doesn’t look as if she has heard your response. Her hand comes up to your arm, thumbing at the flesh there. Pointer finger on the soft skin beneath your upper arm. Holding the thud of your pulse there. “All that caring, no wonder you’re so poorly,” she coos, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. She lingers, lips dragging. You inhale shakily, level with the hollow of her throat. “Such a sweet girl.”
You don’t know what to say, open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Valeria pulls back, just enough to look you in the eye, your face level with her own. She raises a perfect brow, but you flounder, closing your mouth and swallowing harshly.
Her hand comes up, cupping your cheek. You flinch a little at the touch but you’re caught in the web of her fingers. She smiles at your skittishness. “Your father said you were sensitive,” she muses, eyes flicking between your own. “And you are, aren’t you, cielo?”
You don’t want to agree, even though you know that you are. It feels like a failing when your father says it, but it sounds sweet coming out of Valeria’s mouth. You nod, despite yourself.
She leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, pulling back before you can register it. It feels wrong but you don’t know why.
“Why don’t you rest for the day, alright? I’ll get someone to bring up some dinner for you later,” she tells you, and you find yourself nodding again, mindless until she’s up and away.
The heavy heat sweeps in after she leaves, clogging up your pores and leaving you listless. The curtains are drawn over your window even though they were open this morning, but you don’t have to strength to get up to get the sun on your skin.
Your lips tingle, a chill lingering. You lick them and it tastes like cold metal.
-
Your father is vague about what it is he and Valeria need to sort. “There’s some issue of the land lines,” he tells you, frowning over a piece of paper in his office.
You shuffle your feet and stop because you know he hates when you do that. A terrible habit from when you were a girl and would sit in this office with him for hours. Precious little else for a child to spend their time when everyone is too hold to play with. “How is it being sorted then?” you ask.
Your father looks at you, blinking in confusion in the same way that you do. “That’s what we’re discussing,” he says, a tick in his brow. “I thought you would appreciate the companionship.”
You do, or you think you do. You’re not sure how to feel. Everything has muddied since Valeria has arrived. It’s only been a week, but that’s what your father had said she would be here for, and the time has come and went, unmarked.
You say this to him but he just blinks, heavier, as if he’s just woken up. “That was an estimate,” he sighs, rubbing a thumb along his eyes before replacing his glasses. “I’m sure it will be sorted soon, but these things are complicated.”
It doesn’t seem as if it is. His room is dark, no light peering in through the windows. The candlelight needles at your head, so you excuse yourself rather than sit in that stuffy room.
You step out of his office and into Valeria. She catches you, hands firm along your waist. “Ah, mi vida,” she says, thumbs along your ribcage. Her eyes are dark, you almost cannot tell where her pupils are.
“That was me, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you say, flushing with shame.
She hums, contemplative, lifting one hand to smooth some hair out of your face. “Well, what do we say?” she prompts, leaning toward you.
“I’m sorry,” you say, after a moment, heart ticking up. Her hand still on your waist squeezes, as if to catch it before it runs off.
“Good girl,” she says, cupping your cheek in her cold hand, thumb on your bottom lip before she pulls back and steps into your father’s office.
If your father saw anything, he doesn’t remark on it. Valeria shuts the door behind her with a resounding thunk, closing you out in the dark hall.
-
You find a mouse, dead on its back on the path back up to your house.
You frown, staring down at its small paws, stuck up in the air, small snout still. There isn’t any physical damage, no blood. You’d have thought it was sleeping, curled up to face the sun.
Another one of God’s creatures, you scoop it up in your glove and place it in a flowerbed, nestled between the roots of bluebells.
Valeria watches you from the dining room window as you walk back into the house.
You step back inside, exhaling roughly. It’s still so hot, even later into the evening as it is now. The heat leaves its mark, lingering in the stone slabs, hot even through the soles of your shoes.
“Should you be walking outside alone?” Valeria asks, making you jump. She smiles when you turn to look at her, a flash of teeth as she bites her bottom lip. She always has red lipstick on and you never know how she doesn’t stain her teeth with it.
“It’s alright, it’s close enough that if anything should happen, I won’t be far,” you say, embarrassed. This is like the woman that your father wanted for a daughter. Capable, assured. Able to walk for more than a few metres without a dizzy spell. You feel like that mouse in the pathway in comparison. So fragile, so easily squashed.
Valeria hums in response. “Still, I worry. How about you let me know and we can walk together, yes?” she offers, her head tilting. Her hands reach up, smoothing the collar of your dress down. It’s an older gown, perhaps fashionable over a decade ago, but Valeria has a fascination with it.
Her hand on your chest, above your breast and into the bone. Your heart flutters, unsteady and half-working as it always is. “Yes, that would be nice,” you reply, trying to smile, but painfully aware of how wide-eyed you must look.
A finger tucks into the collar of your dress, nail dragging across your skin. Just on the edge of where the flesh turns from skin to breast. An invisible line, but one you feel keenly as her nail rasps over it as if it doesn’t matter. “You are a delicate creature,” she muses, demeaning and strangely flattering at once with the way she says it.
You wonder how she was with her husband. Your father has raised you with the understanding that you will one day marry a man and he will run the estate while you mind your children. Valeria doesn’t seem like the type of woman to have listened to any man, and she smiles, amused, as if she can read your thoughts.
She releases you, her hand out of your dress. The fine chill that had been spreading dissipates, almost knocking you over with its abruptness. “I have to speak with your father, but don’t go out without me, hmm?” she asks, and you almost knock your head off with how fast you nod.
She sweeps away, the dark cotton of her dress swishing around her ankles. You swallow harshly, your throat rough. You step out into the hall and when you wander to the sitting room, you don’t see anyone else.
-
The heat breaks finally, a hard rain that batters against the roof and the windows, chasing away any memory of warmth.
You sit in the library and watch the rain wash away summer. Your father had been listless at breakfast, the corner of his paper in his tea and he hadn’t noticed until you had pointed out.
He’d stared unblinking at it for a few moments until Valeria had gestured for a servant to come over and help him up. “Maybe a lie down for a few minutes would help, your colour isn’t very good,” she’d said, squinting at his face.
Sitting in the library, you worry, You’ve never seen your father sick your whole life, and wonder what it could mean.
“You know, I get so sad to see you not smiling, pretty girl,” Valeria says from the doorway, making you jump.
“Sorry, I was lost in a dream there,” you say, trying to give her a smile.
“A sad one, by the looks of it,” Valeria muses, joining you at the other armchair.
“Yes, I’m just a bit worried about my father,” you admit, watching her expression. It doesn’t move, frozen perfection, looking back at you with a curious smirk.
“You love him,” she says, and it sounds blank, like she has no familiarity with what she is saying.
“Yes, he’s my father,” you answer, confused.
She tilts her head, and you get a queer sensation as if you are a bug in her palm. “Even though he disregards you?” she asks. It’s pure curiosity, but you take it like a slap to the face.
“He doesn’t - that’s not,” you splutter, staring at her in disbelief.
She blinks back at you, face placid. “He doesn’t include you in any of our conversations, even though you are his heir and old enough. Is that not odd?”
You shut your mouth with a click, chewing on your words. Her words sear, and her still face as she regards you is the final nail in the coffin for your anger. “Excuse me,” you say, voice barely on this side of polite, standing up. She is your elder, and a guest, you cannot argue with her and act like a schoolgirl.
She doesn’t move, although you see her hand twitch on the arm of her chair. You leave and though she doesn’t follow, you get the queer feeling that she knows every step you take before your foot connects with the floor.
A bug in her hand, scuttled off and in the garden, but she’s planted each pot and she knows the one you call home.
-
You wake up in the throes of a nightmare one night and there’s a knock on your door.
Heart pounding, you stumble up and open the door enough to peak your head out.
Valeria stands in the hallway, face flickering in the candlelight that she has brought with her. “Are you alright, I could hear you screaming?” she asks, pushing a hand on the door until you open it wider.
“I was?” you ask, rubbing your forehead to force back a headache starting to force its way forward.
She steps toward you, the chill of her hand on your shoulder as she enters your space. Closer than anyone who isn’t family should be, her chest brushing your own before she shuts the door behind her back. “Yes, has something happened?” She asks, her hand lifting to push your hair out of your face. A sweeping chill, cooling the sweat on your face.
“It was just a nightmare, I don’t even remember it now,” you admit, leaning into the cool of her palm before you catch yourself. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
“Sweet girl,” she coos, setting her candle on your dresser. “Nothing to apologise for at all. As long as you’re alright.”
You nod, fervently. “I am, I swear,” you promise, trying to give her a smile.
“Still, maybe I should stay, make sure you sleep through the night,” she offers, but there’s no lilt in her voice to signify a question. Her hair is tucked behind her ears, down for once, a sight that you feel like you shouldn’t be seeing.
“Oh, you don’t have to do all that, I’ll be fine,” you stammer, watching as she turns towards your bed and pulls the sheet down.
“Nonsense, it’s not an issue,” she replies, and that seems to settle the matter.
You aren’t left much choice but to go along, letting her into your bed as you lie stiffly next to her.
The anger of the day before has dissipated since you haven’t seen her. Besides, she isn’t wrong. Your father thinks you’re too weak, too fragile to truly regard you as equal to the task of managing the estate. With no marriage prospects, you suspect that you are looking down the barrel of the rest of your life, following your father around as he manages everything, perhaps even from beyond the grave.
She sighs as if you’ve irritated her, and you feel like a small, shameful thing. “Mi vida, surely that is not how you sleep, huh?” she asks, kissing her teeth when you shake your head but make no other movement to readjust yourself.
She kisses her teeth again and reaches over to roll you onto her side facing her. These are the moments that you had daydreamed about, curling up like girls under the same sheet and whispering to each other into the little hours of the night.
There isn’t anything innocent about this, it’s stepped shy of intimacy and into danger. Like you’ve placed your hand on a hot stove and your body doesn’t know to pull it back yet. “You sleep with your eyes open?” she asks, and laughs, rough and deep when you immediately squeeze them shut.
You don’t know how you’re able to fall asleep, but it happens at one point. Her nail drags up and down your inner arm that lies in the space between you. When you dream, you dream of her hands as she outlines you on an autopsy table. You’re made up of a loose heart, broken ribs and the rest of your organs are on a tray next to you, but when she runs her hands along each part, you take shape and breathe a hacking cough into life.
You wake up and she’s gone, sitting at the table for breakfast as if nothing had changed.
She comes over in the middle of the night now, knocking on your door just before you sleep.
“Just checking that you are sleeping well, cariño,” she says, stepping into your bedroom. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
You always say no, but she ends up in your bed anyway, watching you until you fall asleep.
These days, she doesn’t bother with the pretence of going to her own room, just walks with you into your own.
“I don’t know if father would want us to,” you start, one night, shuffling uncertainly in your nightgown.
Valeria is taking her hair down in front of your mirror, her eyes cutting over to you with a raised eyebrow. “What is the issue?” she asks, placing a hairpin down with a faint clink. “We’re like sisters sharing a bed, no?”
You aren’t overly familiar with siblings, but you have read books where girls share a bed and no one bats an eye. But, there’s that tone of Valeria’s again, teasing as if she means the opposite. “We’re not sisters though,” you point out, voice weak as you’re afraid to offend her.
She lets her hair down, shorter than it seems when it’s up, a silky dark wave down her back. “You’re right, we’re not,” she grins, her teeth sharper than you remember them being. You shiver, and turn away, embarrassed for some reason.
Her nightgown is black, silky and rippling with every move she takes around your bedroom. You feel dressed for a different occasion, standing in your pale cotton shift.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” she amends, and you can see the flash of her tongue behind her teeth as she reaches you, taking your shoulders in her hands. She’s cold still, hands carrying a chill that worms into your skin.
“Yes,” you say, uncertainly. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” you add, confessional.
“I’d certainly hope not, cariño,” she tells you, rounding your shoulders to clasp your upper arms. Like she was moulding you, shaping you out how she wanted. Loose heart and broken ribs.
Everything is exactly how it was last night and the night before when she stayed here. You lay on your side, watching as she pushes her hair back behind her shoulders. “Your hair is lovely,” you say.
You’re rewarded with a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sweet girl,” she responds, leaning down and giving you a kiss.
Nothing overly strange, she’s kissed you enough that you don’t flinch at the brush of her mouth on your own. But this time she lingers and you freeze, inhaling sharply as she leans closer.
Pressure, then her lips part and she kisses you again, her hand framing your jaw to hold you in place. You stay still, like a scruffed kitten.
Intimacy is like a bubble around you until her tongue touches your bottom lip. Then, intimacy is a shackle, forcing you back into the bed, flat on your back. Like some deep buried animal instinct, your eyes shoot open as you’re pressed down with your vulnerable belly up. “What -?” you start, tucking your chin to look up at her, bewildered.
“Have you never been kissed before?” she asks, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. She doesn’t have a hair out of place, but you feel dragged up, flushed and messy.
You have been kissed, by her no less, but never like this. “Well, yes, but -”
“Then there’s not an issue, right? You worry so much, sweet girl, just relax, yes?” she says, voice firm in that way that you know will disappoint her if you don’t obey.
Her mouth drops back on to your own and her lips part your own. Her tongue dips into your mouth and brushes along your own and you swallow a strangled noise that she seems to try and chase.
This is beyond innocent, there’s nothing like that in any of the stories that you’ve read. Just as you try to gather the strength to pull back and try to push her back, she tilts her head with a sigh that sends a bolt of heat through you.
You feel hot, burning up and wild. She seems to know if the way that her mouth curls against you is any indication. Her nails drag over your scalp and you hiccup a sound, your tongue brushing against her own.
There’s a winding movement and you feel yourself lulled into it. Her tongue, slippery against your own, licking against your own, pulling away but coming back again. You reciprocate, thighs flexing at the wet sound of your mouths as they separate again and again. She always comes back, something needy and wanting opening its eye deep inside you.
She pulls back and you lean up, chasing her mouth. She laughs at you, and you’d be hurt if she didn’t give you another slick kiss to tide you over before she pushes you back again. “Such an eager puppy,” she croons, rubbing a thumb along your bottom lip, a spark of pain as you realise how swollen it’s gotten. “You look warm, do you feel well?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, truthfully, heaving in a deep breath just to sigh it out.
She tilts her head at you, eyes sharp and cutting. She brings her hands down and you jump when she cups your breasts. You start to fuss and she cuts you an annoyed look that has you settling down. You’re rewarded with a thumb on each of your nipples where they poke through the fabric.
You inhale shakily, the point of contact enough to fry your brain and leave you a mindless, panting thing.
“There’s a girl,” she coos down at you. She reaches a hand up to cup your face, her thumb on your bottom lip. “Now, are we going to be good?” she asks, her thumb slipping into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.
Your eyes widen, looking up at her hovering over you. A slip of time, felt in the ripple after you saw her carriage coming up the path. Maybe you could shake your head and have it be done with, but you aren’t standing on the edge of a cliff anymore, you’re already off of it, smacked into the hard dirt and looking up at Valeria, dazed.
More importantly, in the faint candlelight and the quiet of the house, even though you know you shouldn’t, you find that whatever she wants to do is what you want to do.
You nod. She smiles and pulls her slick thumb out your mouth and leans back to smooth your nightdress up your thighs.
All bravado leaves you, your hands clenching in the sheets beside you.
Valeria pushes your skirts up to pool at your waist and pushes your knees apart. “Valeria, I don’t know if we should…” you start, thighs flexing as you try to close them, but her arms don’t even shift, keeping them apart effortlessly.
She says your name, sharp and quick, which has you cringing back down. It’s louder than she’s been with you, her voice lighting up the room for a second. “You’ve been so good up to this point, do you want to spoil this?” she asks you, and you look away, ashamed, the pinprick of tears in your eyes.
You stop trying to close your thighs and listen to her sigh to herself, her cold hands sliding up and pressing into the crease where your thigh meets your sex. “You are so jumpy,” she murmurs, almost to herself, spreading her hand around the tendon in your leg. “Now, be a good girl for me.”
There’s not a threat at the end of it, but you feel it implicitly as her nails drag up your sensitive skin.
She shifts down your bed, crouched between your legs to peer at your sex. It’s shameful, having someone look at you in such a way, but she seems endeared. Her hand comes up, and you can hear the wet sound as she spreads your folds. “Oh, mi vida, what a pretty pussy you have,” she murmurs, her wet thumb touching your hole and dragging the wetness there back up.
You jump as her thumb connects with your clit, trying not to buck her off. “S-Sorry,” you mutter, face so hot that you feel feverish.
Her other hand wraps around your leg and braces across your belly. Your apology mollifies her. “Sweet girl, you just need to be eased in, I’ve got you, don’t you worry.”
She lowers her head and you can barely believe what you’re seeing. Half of your view is blocked with the bundle of fabric around your waist, but you see the crown of her head lower until you feel her tongue on you.
You have half a mind to protest, biting down on your tongue hard to stop yourself from saying anything that may anger her in any way. All thoughts are exhaled sharply when she tongues your clit. “Oh Christ," is all you can manage, hips jolting but not getting anywhere.
You try to hold still, but your hips twitch, wriggling in her hold. She doesn’t seem to mind, her arm becoming a band over your hips, stone that is immovable. You’ve touched yourself in the night before, known that it was something dirty and you shouldn’t do it. This is something else. Valeria lets the flat of her tongue against you, easing up enough so you’re bucking against her for a moment before she stills you again, arm pressing you back down.
She ducks lower, her tongue dipping into your hole and your vision goes red. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost sobbing as she presses her tongue in as deep as she can get but one thumb rubs at your clit. Behind your eyelids is a spiderweb of your veins, burst apart and brought back together.
“Valeria, I can’t,” you cry, heels digging into your mattress.
She hums in response, and you feel it vibrate into you.
There’s a building of heat, the pressure point of fever, curling in a ball in your groin. She pulls her tongue out of you, taking your clit back into her mouth and sucks harshly.
The fever breaks, the snap of a band, and you slap a hand over your mouth to catch your shriek as you back bows.
She chases after each wave, relentless, until you’re panting to catch your breath.
She lets your clit go, giving it what feels like a sweet kiss before she laps up the wetness that you can feel gathered at your hole.
“You taste lovely, mi vida,” she tells you, lifting her head as she crawls up to meet you. She dips her head to slide her tongue against your own so you can share it. You’re boneless, at her mercy and she laughs, nudging her nose against yours. “Poor puppy,” she coos, degrading but you can barely twitch in response.
She tugs your night gown down and pulls you onto her chest. You throw your arm around her waist, settling down once she smooths your hair back and pets you.
“I’ll teach you, don’t you worry,” she murmurs, her hand lulling you to sleep. You have half a mind to ask what she means but you’re gone before you can find your voice.
The next night, she has you between her thighs as she instructs you to slide two fingers into her.
She’s pretty down there as well, her curls dark and soft beneath your palms.
She tells you to curl your fingers and she curses sharply when you do. “Good girl,” she murmurs, and something deep and rotten in you lights up.
-
Father doesn’t come down for dinner for a while, a fact that has you fidgeting. “How is he eating?” you ask, looking around the room, but no one will meet your eye.
“He’s having his meals brought up to him,” Valeria says, unfolding a napkin before she looks up at you. She kisses her teeth at your worried look over at the door. “You should let him be, mi vida, he needs his rest.”
“If I could just see him,” you say, looking at her pleadingly.
She sighs, resting her chin on her folded hands and regarding you. A thorough exam, the seconds stretch and elongate, turning terrible and long. “I’ll see if he’s up to it, but today he is too tired, alright?” You nod, agreeable and she smiles. “Good girl. Now, please eat, I don’t want you to get sick as well.”
You eat your dinner and the two of you head up the stairs. You glance over to the side of the house where your father will be, but Valeria steers you towards your room with a firm hand. Two paths, split on the stairway.
That night, Valeria has you suck on her breasts while she works herself over and she rewards you with her head between your thighs.
The next morning, she finds you waiting in the dining room, standing. “Is he up for visitors?” you ask, hopeful.
She looks at you, mouth twisting in a frown. “I’m sorry, cariño,” she says, catching you before you can turn away, your expression collapsing. “He’s a little worse today, he doesn’t want you seeing him like that.”
“Did he say that to you?” you ask, trying to swallow the shake in your voice.
“No, he told one of the servants not to allow any visitors, even I cannot get in,” she answers.
You lower your head, defeated. You don’t want to speak, know that you will cry if you do.
“You must eat, you cannot be poorly as well,” she says, an echo of the day before.
You let her steer you towards the table, where someone has already left some porridge.
You eat while she watches you, her eyes intent on you. You barely taste anything, only doing it so she will be pleased with you.
The two of you spend the day in the library, although she excuses herself in the middle of the day. You wander outside, not far, close enough that you wouldn’t even consider it a turn around the garden.
You feel as if there are less and less people around. Standing still in the opening of your home, you realise that mostly everything is deadly silent, no footfalls, or shuffling as people work.
You turn the corner to the stables, catching sight of another soul and smiling.
The stable-boy greets you, letting you look over the horses and feed them from your palm.
He’s a nice young man - you remember nurturing a small, childish infatuation with him that you haven’t thought of since.
The sun on your face is invigorating, the breeze cleansing in a fresh way that leaves you feeling renewed. It’s early Autumn now, and you had barely noticed the change in the weather, still warm, but chill enough that you would need a coat in the later hours.
A prickle on the back of your neck and you turn, catching sight of Valeria at one of the windows. She turns before you can catch sight of her expression, but you feel the drop in your stomach as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
You excuse yourself, heading back inside. The house is quiet but you can feel her irritation as if it is vibrating through the walls. The doors shut behind you and the sun is firmly closed out, dosing you back up on candlelight again.
You climb the stairs, your head lowered in the picture of a bashful, misbehaved pet.
You open the door to your room and find her standing in front of your mirror, re-applying her lipstick.
“Valeria -” you start but her hand cuts through the air to stop you and you halt, trembling.
“Go lie on the bed,” she tells you, voice waspish.
You do as she says, tucking your shaking hands under your back.
She finishes re-applying her lipstick and studies her own reflection for a moment before she turns to look at you. Although her face is still, you can see the fine crease of anger around her eyes, pinched.
She leans over you, knocking your head back roughly so your neck is arched back. “Is that what you want?” she asks, glaring down at you. “Some fumbling stale-boy?”
You whimper, horrified to find yourself titillated by the curl of disgust around her mouth. You did like the stable-boy, didn’t you? It had been innocent, a childish fancy. But, there’s something vicious in the way that Valeria says it, like it’s dirty and wrong.
Her hand slides under your skirts, sure and steady as it always is. A cold balm for your fever. You flinch as if struck when she cups your sex, thumb sliding down, skidding through slick. “Is this for me, or at the idea of him?” she asks, her voice genial enough but her eyes are sharp.
You’ve displeased her at some point, and you don’t know when. You reach for her wrist, fingers seeking comfort but only find cold and unfeeling flesh. She is stone, scowling down at you until you wither. “I’ve never thought of him like -” you start, squeaking when she slides two fingers into you, her other hand pushing your thighs apart to make room for her. “Like this, never, I swear, only you.”
A heavy pause, her gaze hard on your face. Then, like melting ice, she leans down and nudges her nose against you. A thumb rubs the peak of your sex, a spike of heat that shudders through you. The treat at the end of the rope. “I believe you, darling, you wouldn’t lie, would you?”
You shake your head so hard that your teeth rattle and you’re rewarded with a smile that she presses into the soft flesh under your chin.
She works you over until you come, thumb relentless until you’re shaking, then she stops leaning back to look down at you. “Take these off,” she tells you, tugging on your skirts.
With legs like jelly, you stand and fumble with the stays on your front, loosening them and yanking them off.
You toss everything behind you, all of your skirts and linens in a rumpled pile. You hesitate on your shift, but when you look over, Valeria is also undressing. Slower, folding her clothes over your foot-board, but her eyes keen on you even as she pulls out each stay. She’s using the finger that had just been in you, a fact that has you shuddering.
You toss your shift away as well and step back towards her. Even though you’ve seen her bare a few times now, the sight always gives you a dry mouth. Dark nipples, the curve of her belly and the dark curls beneath the crease of her thighs.
She places her hands on your hips, admiring you in return before she tugs you over until you’re flat on the bed again.
She drapes her leg over you, straddling you sideways and you shudder when she presses her sex to yours.
“You know,” she says, winding her hips and you whine as the slick grind between the two of you. “This isn’t the most effective way for us.” She grins when you start to frown, any words cut off when she grinds down on you and all you can feel is heat for a moment. “But it’s a little bit of fun, and you’ve been good, haven’t you?”
You nod, almost knocking your head off. “Yes, please, I have, I have.”
Her grin is fierce and she rolls onto her back and you feel flung up until you’re the one straddling her instead. “Then take what you need, pet,” she tells you, reaching a hand up to pinch your nipple and make you cry out.
Your movements are clumsy. You try to mimic the sultry grind that Valeria had, but you don’t know how successful you are. You lean down until you feel the bump of your clit against hers and drag them against each other.
You’re rewarded with her chest rising and exhaling out, slow and pleased.
There’s no effective word for your movements. You hump against her, desperate to feel good and to make her feel good in return. You’re a sick dog, mindless and huffing, dragging your hips up then down, again and again until there’s a pearl of heat in that you’re nursing.
Valeria’s breasts rock with the aggression behind your movements. She reaches up, cups both of them in her hands while she watches you. You wonder if this is doing anything for her, but one grind has her hissing out, eyes impossibly darker.
You curse, feel a sick hand as it works up your spine and holds you by the back of your neck. Fevered dog, you work for it, the pearl inside you getting shinier and shinier until it pulses.
“Oh, Valeria, can I, please, can I -?” you stutter, dragging your cunt up again and almost whiting out your vision with the strength it takes to hold back.
“Go on, you’ve earned it,” she coos, and with your eyes on her breasts as her wrist twists to pull on her nipple, you erupt.
Liquid heat pulses out of you and you ride it out, gasping and whining, almost sobbing as your cunt wrings you out for all you’re worth.
Finally, you stop, panting for breath, sweat in the dip of your back and there is a string of slick between you as you lift up.
“C’mere, lovely,” she tells you and you stretch up to bring your face closer to her own. “You were beautiful.” You glow, almost reaching down to kiss her but you’re stopped with her fingers on your chin. “Now, clean up the mess you made.”
Her legs spread. You nod, and lower yourself back down her body until you can kiss her cunt that’s covered in your come and her own wetness.
She sighs, stretching out on your sheets, watching you as you take her clit into her mouth. Her mouth opens with a sigh as you curl your tongue around it. Desperate to please, you set to work.
-
Everything spirals out of your control, a ball of yarn tumbling round and round and out of your palms. You rush after it, always too slow and fumbling to get it back to its original shape.
Your father stops coming down for dinner and you feel sick at the sight of his empty chair. Valeria smoothes her cool hands down your back, comforting and confronting all at once.
Your dinner is already on the table, but you didn’t see who lay it there. In fact, you haven’t seen anyone but Valeria in days. You try to jump up, wanting to see whoever has been bring your father his meals, but Valeria’s hands become restraints on your arms and you aren’t able to buck further than an inch away. “Please, cariño, don’t fuss,” she says, voice like iron until you still.
“Please, I don’t -” you start but she shushes you, grasping your hands in her own.
She snaps your name until you go quiet. Her jaw works, a physical effort to be patient with you. “I know you are worried, but you are worrying yourself sick as well. Settle down and eat your dinner,” she tells you, strained as she places your hands next to your plate.
“Please, is he dying? I have to see him please, I have to,” you sob, trying to grasp her hands back but she snaps them away from you, her chair screeching as she pushes it back.
“Enough!” she snaps and you do as you’re told, whimpering. You always have been a beaten dog, head on someone’s lap, looking up imploring and lasting yourself on scraps. “Perhaps I have been too soft on you, and you’ve forgotten how to behave like a lady. But, this type of behaviour is unseemly, you will not embarrass me as well.”
She sweeps away from the table, a swirl of dark cotton. She slams the dining room doors closed, and when you try to open them after her, they’re locked.
No one is in the room with you. You throw yourself at the door, crying yourself sick. “Valeria! Valeria, please come back, I’m sorry, please let me out,” you sob, ratting the doorknob over and over uselessly.
Nothing from the other side of the door. The servants that you have been raised with are all gone, the house may as well be empty and you are a sick girl haunting it.
Your father’s empty chair taunts you, dust along the back of it. You sit in it, looking down the length of the table.
You are a terrible heir, you hate the view.
You crawl into your own chair and stare down at the broth that has been made for you. Chunky vegetables float in it. You lift the spoon with a shaky hand and swallow a few mouthfuls, a few tears still running down your face.
You push the bowl away and lay your head in your arms, and stare at the crack in the table that has been there since you were little.
Time chases itself away until you imagine hours must have passed. Maybe you slept, or perhaps you are just lulled into a stupor, your tears drying on your face and making you feel like a husk of yourself.
Only now, do you realise that you don't even feel dizzy, even after exhausting yourself. Even upset, you're terribly alive.
The door creaks open, but you don’t even stir at the sound.
The click of heels until they reach you, then Valeria’s face appears as she bends down to look at you. You imagine that she must consider saying something, but you’re so listless, she decides it’s not worth it.
With a strength that surprises you even as you can’t express it, she reaches down and lifts you up.
A new born babe, you let her carry you up the stairs and back to your bedroom where she lays you down, smoothing your hair out of your face. “I know you are upset, cariño,” she tells you when your eyes focus on her. “But, I will not tolerate any more tantrums. You rest up and tomorrow you will be good, yes?”
Her nails dig into your hairline until you nod. Her thumb on the delicate skin beneath your eye, she leans down and gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead.
For the first time in weeks, you spend the night alone and you wake up in the morning and try to be normal.
You keep darting glances up the stairs to your father’s bedroom, but you eat when Valeria bids you to and answer her when she speaks.
You’re rewarded with your legs folded into your chest and Valeria between your thighs as she makes you come over and over again until you can’t bear it anymore.
You pass out and wake up to her sucking on your nipple, her thumb still on your clit, rotating in light circles.
You try to tell her that you can’t do it again but she drags her teeth on your nipple and you come again, liquid heat spraying out of you and soaking your lap.
You sleep like you’re dead through the night and you barely remember to worry about your father when you wake up to Valeria kissing your neck.
“You’re warmer than anyone I’ve ever known,” she murmurs, her hands cupping your breasts. “It’s maddening.”
You moan and she takes that as well, sucking your tongue into her mouth as she grinds down on your thigh.
You sleep through the day with her, both of you not bothering to get dressed. You dream of cutting your heart out and presenting it to her. With a hand under your skirts, you watch her take a bite out of it and you come when she kisses you and makes you drink your own blood.
-
Your desperation is glass and it finally breaks when Valeria leaves you alone one afternoon. You disobey Valeria and go up the stairs to your father’s room. There are no servants in the hallway, none in the kitchen, none in the stable.
No one to catch you and report back.
You knock on the door lightly, pressing your ear up against the wood. Silence from the other side.
You are a young girl again, leaning up and straining for the door handle. Peering through the key hole into the world of grown ups.
You are a woman grown now and you don’t have to strain yourself when you reach for the handle.
The door swings open, soundless and the room is darker than everywhere else in your home.
You can make out the faint line of a bed, a dresser, where the curtains are pulled over the window. The sun is a force outside, you can see it bearing down against the other side anyway, creating a slight glow.
The room is still silent, no breathing or signs of life.
“Father?” you ask, stepping inside. If he hears you, he doesn’t respond.
There’s a shape on the bed, and you creep towards it, freezing as it shifts. There is the rattle of an inhale, held then released again before stillness reinstates itself.
You feel tears in your eyes but you aren’t totally sure why yet. You reach the edge of the bed and peer down, eyes burning as they try to adjust as quickly as they can.
You know your father’s face, the only face that you know better than your own. You know every expression he’s ever made.
You don’t know this one.
His mouth is open, his eyes are blank and staring up at the ceiling. You hover your face over his, try to line up his eyeline, but he doesn’t even twitch.
Then - that rattled inhale, in through his mouth, held then released. Then he’s as still as a corpse.
It sounds painful, like he’s sick with something that you can’t understand, some foreign virus rending up him mute and still.
“Father?” you ask, reaching a hand up to his cheek. You try to hold him, but even the lightest pressure of your hand sends his head rocking to the side and with a sickening crunch, it rips.
You barely comprehend what you’re seeing, grateful for a moment for the dark. Then your mind catches up to your eyes, rationale catching up and an explanation is provided. Your father’s neck in front of you, the inside, with all of his veins and his throat. His head is still connected on side, but you can see the skin straining.
There’s a hunk of flesh missing, that’s what caused this, the start of a tear on his throat. There’s no blood, not like you would expect given his head is about to fall off of his shoulders.
That’s all you’re able to comprehend before you start shrieking, a rip of a sound up your throat and dragging out of your mouth.
You fall backwards, trying to scramble away and your heels get caught in your skirts and you’re tangled for a heart-stopping moment before you can get friction again.
You throw yourself up, slamming against the door, your hand smacking senselessly until you can grasp the door handle and wrench it open.
The hall is still empty but you’re still screaming, even as you end up in a pile on the floor.
The door is left open, but the bed is shrouded in darkness. You can picture the horror in there perfectly now, as if there is a candle in your mine to illuminate it.
You crawl away, screams petering off until you’re heaving, retching as your body tries to exhume everything that you’ve ever put in it.
You give up at the top of the stairs, clinging to the bannister. Sobbing without sound, tears hot and fevered on your face.
That’s how Valeria finds you, staring through the bannister, listless. She kisses her teeth, irritated.
“Stand up,” she tells you, but you can’t make your body obey her. There’s a growl of frustration, and her hands on your arms, yanking you up. “You are a silly girl,” she snaps at you, perfect face cracked with anger. You barely have it in you to respond, staring back at her, empty.
She drags you down the stairs and you barely have the wherewithal to stop yourself from falling down them. The doors to the dining room are open, and she drops you in the bottom chair, opposite your father’s chair.
The doors shut behind you, a loud slam that wakes you up. “Do you enjoy disobeying me, huh?” she asks you, kicking your chair out to make you look up at her.
“What have you done to him?” you ask, giving voice to a horrible fear that you’ve been nursing under your breast.
She pauses, eyes flicking around your face. “He was alive when I left him there,” she tells you, pointed.
“What was wrong with him?” you ask, voice thick.
She rolls her eyes and you smart at her irritation, flinching back into yourself.
“You know, your home is better placed than my late husband’s?” she asks, a question she doesn’t want any answer to. She walks away, the click of her heels as she runs her hands over the back of the dining room chairs. Covered in dust if the way that she flicks her wrist after is any indication. “Smaller, sure, but the land is richer. I made the mistake of going for marshland before. Your father has tenants, but my husband didn’t.”
You blink away tears as you stare back at her. “So, you never wanted me, you just wanted my father’s house?” you say, voice little and pathetic. You meant it to be an accusation, but it comes out as a question. A plea. Horrible, to think about yourself in this moment, but you can’t claw the words back into your mouth so you try to stand by them.
Valeria regards you, as still as she always is. Before, you had thought that it was the good breeding of a lady that caused the frozen flesh. Now, you recognise it for what it is. A predator, knelt in short grass, watching you. Still, even when you spot her, but you can see the power belying her flesh.
“Well?” you demand, wavering but righteousness forcing you to speak.
“I don’t understand why it has to be one or the other,” she muses, eyes dark on you. She crosses the room in less steps than you know it must take. She takes your chin in her hand and you hold back a whimper as her nails dig in.
“Can you bring him back?” you ask, voice small like a child.
She tilts her head, faux-sympathy. “No, mi vida. He’s gone now.” You feel your chest contract with a sob at her words. She scrapes her nail against your chin.
“What was wrong with him?” you ask, not wanting to know but understanding you have to ask.
Valeria regards you, her other hand dropping to your neck, where the missing flesh on your father’s neck was. “You were so upset about that gardener,” she muses, thumbing over your pulse, holding the fat thump of it in her palm. “I didn’t want my sweet girl crying herself sick over the help. If you’d left your father be, he’d have been back to himself in a few days. Human blood comes back so quickly,” she tells you. That mocking twist in her tone, but you hear the bare honesty as well.
You don’t know what to do, barely able to comprehend as a monster tells you the nature of what it is. Your mind is a muddled mess, anger and hurt and disgust as her hand caresses your throat and pulls forward arousal just as it did before.
You’re frozen by it, unable to function as your mind trips over itself. Valeria gives you a pitying pout. “You’re the heir to the land now,” she tells you, taking a seat on your lap, leaning her face closer to your own.
“I don’t want it,” you sob. You’d thought that you had run out of tears on the stairs, but they’re back, hot and heavy, dripping down your face and you had barely noticed.
She grins, and you can see the sharpness of her teeth. “Well, sounds like something we can negotiate then.” Her head drops down to your neck and when you sob, she licks the jump of your throat as if to taste it.
-
You bury your father just as Autumn takes its leave for Winter. The men you hire struggle to dig into the earth that is starting to freeze but it gets done.
The service is exactly what your father would want, the priest reads from the bible.
You are the only one in attendance, given all of your staff are gone and none of the tenants were told. If it’s an odd procession, the funeral workers don’t say anything.
Afterwards, you stay, looking at your mother and your father’s joined gravestone. There is a space at the bottom for your own name one day.
You place your hand to the cold stone and whisper a prayer to yourself before you leave. There isn’t anyone in the stables anymore to saddle your horse or drive you a carriage, so you walk.
Your dizzy spells have lessened, you feel as if you could chase the sun down and catch it, hold it in your jaw.
The wind is crisp, even in the early afternoon. Winter is creeping in, nipping at your heels. You taste the air and it tastes like snow that will fall soon.
Your house is quiet and still when you get back, all of the curtains are drawn, with only candlelight to aid you as you make your way around.
You set about getting dressed for the evening now that it’s dark out, discarding your coat and your shoes and your funeral dress. There’s a dress laid out for you on the bed, a deep crimson with a low neckline.
As soon as you step into it, you can hear the front door as someone knocks on it.
You step down the stairs, your skirts held up with one hand. It’s an old fabric, but beautiful and rich, thick layers that sweep as you move. You catch sight of yourself in a mirror and you look like the lady that you wished you would be when you were a girl. There is a bite mark that has bled a little with your movement but you leave it be.
There isn’t another knock, but you can sense her impatience in the back of your mind.
Your arm strains as you reach for the door handle and pull it open.
Valeria stands there, in her black gown and her black veil, smiling at you to see you wearing the right dress.
When she steps towards you, you let your mouth open for the drop of water that is on her tongue. It is granted, because she is so kind and you are so very good.
I've read some things in the lesbian atual world, and something is perturbing me.
What do you mean in the middle of the smut "I can't cum anymore"? What do you mean? Is that possible? Is it possible that some women have a limit? I'm just abnormal or y'all are telling lies on the internet? 😭
I strongly believe Valeria wouldn't be with a woman that doesn't know who she is and what she does. It's too risky. She needs to know that her partner knows, agrees and accepts her completely, not just the good parts. It is very likely she would only date a woman from her cartel or maybe an associate.
But if not, I can imagine her testing you since the start. The first time you see her she is strapped —with her gun, very much visible and attached to her thigh. She'll always be accompanied by some of her subordinates, being who she is, she can't just walk around alone, they will be in sight, not too close, but noticeable. And you will see, you will feel that she is not just someone else.
She will not just say who she is, maybe you won't ask either, it's pretty obvious that she is from some cartel. What she does is not a topic in any conversation, maybe if you ask once she will give a vague answer, very evasive and change the subject, letting it be obvious she won't say more. You won't be pushy, she doesn't like that and you know. She treats you like a goddess from the first date, she makes clear that she is in this to get to know you, to have a relationship and you just need to follow her lead. And you do.
She won't kiss you until she's tested you. Ten dates in, one month talking through messages and FaceTime but the closest from her lips you got was when you kissed her cheek. She is needy and she likes her woman like that too, handsy, clingy, and she knows once she kisses she won't stop there, and she can't have that before knowing you can handle her other sides as well.
I have been leaving alone for three years and the only thing I eat is stroganoff, it's my favorite meal ever, no matter how delicious I cook, how many options I get, I always will want stroganoff no matter how many times I have it. And I'm like this in ALL aspects of my life.
My advice? Every woman should get a autistic girlfriend.
writing to help with the vocabulary since English is not my first language, but why in heavens is it so hard to put thoughts in words ? like, I can imagine but I can write? I'm making this my mtbi fault, there's nothing that I have more than struggle
Thinking about working for Valeria’s cartel—still at the lower level, only able to see her a few times a week, just watching from afar. Of course, she’s noticed. She always knows when a woman is interested in her, the glances, the weight of being watched, the awkward tension in you when she is in the room. She knows. And it’s flattering. And if she likes it? She’ll give you chances. It’s not every day a pretty girl gets a crush on her, and really, what’s more entertaining than that?
It thrills her, distracts her from work just enough. Makes her linger a little longer in the mirror, reminds her she’s still a woman—beautiful, desired. That delicious anticipation, what will you wear to catch her eye? Will you hold her gaze? Will you blush? Or maybe brush past her “accidentally”? How bold will you dare to be? She’d indulge you, of course. She’d give you openings, let you fumble, wait patiently for you to find the nerve.
You know what's funny? Me reading lesbian books, and judging like this: "oh, this position doesn't make sense", "Jesus, this is not humanly possible", "Girl, I could never."
NOTE: i don't think this was my greatest work, but it is something. please go easy on me, it's been a while since i wrote 😩🙏. also, it got angsty, i kept listening to "Let down" by Radiohead, so ummm... yeah... also happy 200!! i <3 you all so much!! xoxo 🥰💕
this is the inspo for this (i changed some bits so it fits better)
synopsis: oldergf!Sevika doesn't believe she's good enough for you, but does her insecurity run so deep that she's not willing to be with you anymore?
CW: feminine reader, angsty, modern setting, no usage of y/n, not edited, age gap (reader is twenty-five and sevika is forty-one), mentions of alcohol and smoking (not detailed), power dynamic (sevika is technically reader's boss but not directly), office romance, sevika is whipped for you (like really bad)
word count: 4 000+
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Sevika was the best gift that life could give you. Whenever you were with her, it felt too good to be true. Being with her made you realize that nothing could ever compare to her or any experience you've had in the past. She was older than you, but that didn't stop love from blooming.
She didn't mean to fall for you. She did everything in her power not to, but as soon as you smiled at her and thanked her for helping you with directions, she felt she had no choice. After that, she kept seeing you around. She hadn't realized that you would be the new hire at work. If she had known that, maybe she would have done more to prevent her heart from beating for you. Thankfully, you worked in a different department, which helped Sevika focus on her work. But it was as if you were following her, as though you knew she was falling for you and that she was resisting you. Every time you walked past her office to go to your cubicle, she savoured the view, memorizing the outfit you wore and how you styled your hair. She liked every hairstyle on you, but her favourite was when it was down. Sevika was often spellbound by the way it bounced when you walked away. She learned your schedule, and when she discovered that you liked to arrive at the office earlier than everyone else, just so you could settle in, she began to come in earlier than necessary; she didn't need to be there in the mornings, but she did so just to catch a glimpse of you. Sevika knew she couldn't have you, but that's what she liked about you.
You have kind eyes. Full of curiosity about the world, about her. The first time she had gotten to you was at an after-work event. It was a successful quarter, and to celebrate, everyone had made plans to go to a bar, the Last Drop. Sevika wasn't planning on going but was convinced after hearing that you would be present as well. Silco, her business partner, didn't question her about her sudden change of mind. He was simply entertained.
You were making your rounds, talking to everyone and catching up. Everyone seems to love you, and honestly, who wouldn't? You were so kind and sweet. You baked for the office, even providing a gluten-free option for those who wanted it. If someone confided in you about late work, you would offer to help them, and you simply wanted nothing in return. You were an angel, and Sevika had never wanted anyone more.
Sevika stayed put by the bar, talking to Vander and Silco, catching a glimpse of you here and there. By the second hour, the two men had grown sick of her longing, lovestruck stares.
"Why don't you just go up to her? Talk to her instead of staring at her." Vander suggested, giving her a knowing look. The trio has known each other for a while, going to college together.
"I can't," Sevika groaned into her hands.
"And why not?" Now it was Silco's turn to tease the scary lady of the office.
"Because… that's just inappropriate," Sevika stated the obvious, but she knew deep down she was just using that as an excuse. She technically wasn't your boss, but the boss's boss. Still, Sevika wasn't one to mix business and pleasure. For the past two decades, Sevika has put her life and soul into this company she's built with Silco. She knows nothing but work. As she grew older, she realized she needed to set boundaries with herself. No one was there to take care of her, so she needed to. Work ended as soon as she left the building. No matter how important it was, she's made it clear not to call or email her after hours.
"Besides, I don't think she would be very interested in an old lady." Even with the sheepish smile on her face, Sevika's tone of voice was serious, meaning she didn't want to be pressed on. Vander stirs the conversation elsewhere, now asking about how it was nearing 20 years since the establishment of the company.
The bar has gotten louder than what Sevika would have liked. Vander occupied the bar, fixing drinks while Silco was now entertaining a group of employees. Her leather jacket was now slung over the back of her chair, the white tee clinging to her body, and her muscles were on full display. Despite her age, Sevika was still a very fit woman. A couple of silver rings splayed on her thick fingers, she nurses a drink that’s gone warm while the ice melts in defiance of the glass. She’s halfway through weighing if it’s time for her to take her leave. There wasn’t much of a point in staying; she had already played a couple of rounds of cards with the others that she had promised. As she plans her exit, you decide to sit beside her.
Not near her. Not across the bar where she can pretend she doesn’t see you.
Beside her.
Sevika’s fingers tighten around her glass.
You glance over, bright-eyed and a little flushed from whatever conversation you peeled away from. “I didn’t expect you to stay this long in the night.” You say, voice light, like you had already talked before. Like, Sevika wasn’t your boss’s boss, who people usually avoided unless something was going wrong, so she could be the one to break the news to Silco.
She doesn’t smile, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she doesn’t trust herself.
“Didn’t expect to stay this late,” she mutters, eyes fixated on her drink, like it was the most interesting sight she had ever seen. “Thought I could finally make my quick escape.”
You giggle - and fuck, it’s angelic. “Guess I ruined that plan.”
“You have a habit of doin’ that?” The words come out before she can stop them. Too casual. Too easy.
You arch a brow, “ruining plans?”
“Making it hard to leave.”
She sees how your expression falters, just a flicker, before you giggle again - a curiosity blooming within. This was the first time you were talking to one of the big bosses, and you didn’t expect it to be like this. You weren’t going to complain, though. She swears under her breath and quickly finishes her drink.
This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. She shouldn’t be looking at you like this. There are unspoken lines, and she’s made a career out of respecting them - keeping her hands clean even when her knuckles are split open. And yet here you were, with a soft curiosity in your voice, like she’s a puzzle you want to figure out. Like she’s not someone who’s already lived too many lives to count.
“You’ve been with the company for a while, right?” You ask, not realizing your proximity is a problem. Sevika noticed but decides against doing anything about it. This was probably the only time she could be this close to you; she will savour it.
She’ll relish your lavender perfume, the way your dress was snug, accentuating your waist. Your hair had loose curls just the way she liked. Sevika sees the curve of your smile and the sight of your dimples, making her stomach twist in a way it hasn’t in years.
“Longer than you’ve been drinking,” she says dryly.
You make a face, “Ouch. Was that a dig at me?”
“A warning,” she mutters. “You need to be careful talking to me like this.”
You blink. The teasing fades, confusion creeping in its place. “Like what?”
Sevika exhales slowly, jaw tightening. You’re not doing anything wrong. She knows that, and it’s not like she’s acted on anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at her like she’s just some stranger at a bar, and not someone who knows exactly where you sit in the company hierarchy. She knows how good you are with people. How you brought tea to the receptionist when she was sick and found a sincere compliment for everyone you walked passed. You have no idea what you’re doing to her.
“I’m your boss’s boss,” she plainly states, each word like it’s being dragged from her throat. “It’s… inappropriate.”
You tilt your head, lips pressed together like you’re trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words. Questioning if this was her sense of humour.
Except, she wasn’t joking.
She’s trying not to fall.
“Oh.” You responded after a moment. Then, gentler, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She knows. Of course you didn’t. You’re just the young, sweet and friendly new hire at work.
“I know,” Sevika acknowledges, looking back down at her glass. “Doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Your brows furrow. She can see the puzzle pieces trying to fit together behind your eyes, but she won’t give you enough to complete the picture. She can’t. It’s not right.
She’s not right.
Still, you don’t leave. That’s the part that gets her.
You were supposed to leave. Yet, you stayed and ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, feet swinging just barely above the ground from your seat. Instead, you talk about a project you were assigned to, about how cold the office gets, so you have to bring an extra cardigan, and about a stupid joke someone made in the elevator today. Sevika simply listens, occasionally grunting in acknowledgement, but not letting herself relax. Not until the end, when your glass is empty and your eyes linger on her a little longer than they should. You slide off the stool and turn to her. “You know,” thinking of your words carefully, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”
Sevika looks at you, sharp and still. Her heart clenches. She shouldn’t.
You smile - not flirty, not even expectant. Just… warmth.
“But maybe I’ll let you ask,” you add. “When it’s appropriate.”
And with that, you walk off and find your colleagues that you were meant to drive home for the night. Only to leave Sevika alone at the bar, heart pounding against ribs that suddenly feel too small.
Sevika doesn’t sleep that night. She tells herself it’s the whiskey. Maybe she left the bar too late, or something she ate didn’t sit right. But deep down, she knows it’s you. It could only be you. The memory of you - your smile, the way your voice dipped low when you said you’d let her ask, like it was some kind of permission.
And maybe it was.
She tosses and turns, constantly catching a glimpse of her phone, debating whether or not she should go for it. In the end, she decides against it.
Three days pass. She sees you once, she was stuck in a morning meeting while you were on the other side of the glass, sitting at your desk with headphones in, eyes narrowing at the screen in front of you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You don’t notice her looking at you. Maybe it was for the best. She’s done many things in life that toe the line, but this? This was where she drew the line.
Friday hits, and Sevika’s in her office after hours, finalizing details of a new deal. The building was quiet, there was a stillness as the cleaning staff hadn’t even made it to this floor yet. Her phone buzzes. A calendar reminder she never turned off.
Coffee with HR, 4 pm - cancelled.
And for some reason, that’s what does it.
She picks up her phone, thumb hesitating over your name. You’re saved in her contacts as just your first name - no emoji, no last initial, no indication of what you mean to her beyond professionalism.
It takes three drafts. Finally, she sends a simple message.
You still up for that coffee?
Not bothering to wait for a reply. She locks her screen and throws her phone down, heart hammering like she just pulled the trigger on something she can’t take back.
The coffee shop is quiet. It was one of those corner places where no one wears a uniform, and all the pastries are homemade and slightly burnt. A place she wouldn’t be caught dead in. You were already there, tucked in a booth near the back, hands wrapped around a mug like you’re holding onto something precious. You spot her before she spots you - but not by much. She sees the smile playing on your lips, soft and surprised, and her chest goes tight. She slowly walks over, not wanting to ruin the moment by rushing.
“Didn’t think you’d come,” you commented, voice low enough to carry.
“Neither did I,” Sevika admits, sliding into the seat across from you. There was a coffee already there, waiting just for her. You offer her half of your muffin without asking. She declines. You expected that.
There’s silence, but it’s not an awkward one. Just… suspended. Like both of you are waiting for the first move that’ll tip the scales.
“Still inappropriate?” You ask, sipping your coffee.
“Janna, yes,” Sevika mumbled, rubbing a hand down her face. “You have no idea.”
You raise an eyebrow. “So, what changed?”
She looks at you for a long time. Long enough that it starts to weigh on you. Then, she says, “I got tired of pretending it didn’t matter.”
You blink, the answer catching you off guard. Not because of what she said, but how it was so Sevika. Blunt. Honest. Gruff and vulnerable in the same breath.
“Does it matter?” You questioned.
She doesn’t answer right away. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed, her jaw tight, not with anger, but restraint.
“It shouldn’t,” she finally says. “But it does.”
You nod, eyes on her like you’re searching for something. “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not a kid.”
“I know that as well.”
Your voice dips quieter, softer. “So maybe we just… have coffee. No expectations. No titles. Just two people who might like each other.”
Sevika huffs a breath, something between a laugh and surrender.
“Dangerous words, kid.”
“I’m not scared of you, Sev.”
That gets her.
She looks at you. Really looks at you - and it hits her all over again how goddamn doomed she is. Because you’re right here, giving her a chance she knows she doesn’t deserve.
But she wants it anyway, and she’ll do anything to be worthy of you.
She lifts her coffee and clinks her mug gently against yours. “One coffee.”
You grin. “One for now.”
And she’s fucked.
She’s smiling now, too.
It had now become a routine. Not the kind that dulls over time, but the kind that settles into the bones like warmth after a long winter. It started with a shared elevator ride after work. You would wait by Sevika’s office, leaning against the wall with a knowing smile, and Sevika would pretend she hadn’t been watching the clock all day, would grab her coat with forced indifference.
Then came the walk through the lobby, shoulders brushing, conversations stitched with quiet laughs. The world outside the office felt muted when you two were together.
Now it was you in her apartment. Sevika would cook most nights. You always insisted on helping, but she would only let you cut the vegetables and keep her company. You two would eat by the window, legs tangled under the table, with the city lights flickering like background music. Later that night, on the couch, Sevika would read while you’d lie across her lap, playing with the hem of her sleeve. There was always a moment, just one, where Sevika would look down at you, and everything in her chest would clench so tightly it almost hurt. A mix of awe and fear. A feeling she hadn’t let herself want in years.
Half asleep and curled against her, you mumbled, “You look at me like I’m going to disappear.” To you, it was simple teasing, but that summed up what Sevika has always thought.
Sevika didn’t respond. Just stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head like she was trying to promise something, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it.
It all began to unravel slowly.
Sevika found herself staring a little too long when you would laugh with a co-worker. She started pulling away after kisses. She lingered in the kitchen too long and tried to avoid dinner overall. She had snapped, once, over something small, you were late to dinner. Sevika apologized immediately, but it clung to her like guilt.
She was too old for this. Too jaded. Too experienced in the art of being left. You were still young and bright. Sevika loved that about you, but part of her felt like she smudged all that warmth.
So, one quiet night in her apartment. The kind of quiet that settled deep, only the soft clinking of ice in your glass and the low hum of a jazz record spinning lazily in the background. You were on her couch, legs tucked under you, reading through one of Sevika’s books. You wore an oversized shirt, which hangs off your shoulder, paired with flared leggings. The sight of you wasn’t anything new, but it was still hard for Sevika to believe that this was her reality now.
Sevika stood by the kitchen counter, leaning her weight on one arm, a half-finished drink in the other hand. Her hair was down tonight, and the sight of it sent something warm and stupid fluttering in your chest. Neither of you had talked much since dinner. Not out of discomfort, just that easy silence you’d started to fall into more and more. She didn’t fill space unless it needed filling, and you… You were getting good at listening to what she didn’t say.
Then, out of nowhere.
“I think you should stop coming here.”
You flinched from your spot, not sure if you had heard her right. You looked at her from your seat, and she looked just as startled as you were. That quickly went away and was now replaced with a stoic expression.
“What are you talking about?” You questioned.
“This,” Sevika forces a steadiness into her voice. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to last. You should be with someone your age. One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking being with me. I’m not going to wait for that.” That last part came out quieter, almost like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth.
“Are we really doing this now?” You raised a brow.
She turns her gaze to where you were sitting. Tired eyes, scarred skin, that permanent weight she carried even when she wasn’t talking about it.
“You’re twenty-five,” she explained, like that was enough to understand. Like that should be the end of it. You stood, putting your book down on the coffee table, walking toward her slowly. “And you’re what? Walking away from this before I even get the chance to prove you wrong? So, I can end up with some clean-shaven corporate guy who has a dog and doesn’t smoke?”
She flinched. Just slightly.
Sevika didn’t expect you to fight her on this matter. She underestimated how much you want this. She fights the little voice in her head telling her that she shouldn’t continue.
“I’ve seen how people look at us,” she mutters, turning away from you. “Like I’m dragging you down. Like you’re just… playing house until something better comes along.”
You step back, “Is that what you think of me? That I would use you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Was this really the same person who held you at night? The woman who made sure you got home safe? The one who would look at you like you were the only thing that mattered because you were.
“Do you think of me so lowly?”
“I’m protecting both of us.” Sevika bit her lip. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but if that’s what it took for you to realize that she’s not the woman you want, then so be it.
“You’re not,” you utter. “You don’t even want to try.” The frustration starts to build up, you run a hand through your hair, not believing what you’re hearing. There was a long pause, raw and aching.
“I’m not worth the fight for you… Am I?”
Sevika wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to declare you’re everything to her. That this could work out between you two. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
After a moment of processing, a realization that this is the path she wants for you. You gathered your things and left. You didn’t slam the door. There were no tears in your eyes, not yet at least. You simply walked out quietly, you knew that trying to stay would only make it worse.
Weeks have gone by.
Sevika went home alone. No one sang in the car or made fun of her ‘old people’ music. She cooked for one. Nobody was there to help her with the dishes. She read books that didn’t hold her attention. Not a single soul was there to play with her hair and ask a million questions about her day. The apartment had grown too cold.
You two would still see each other in the office. You would pass by her, being the cordial and polite person you were, you would smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. Sevika started avoiding you, purposely leaving early or staying as late as possible because anything was better than seeing you in pain.
She’d lie awake at night, gripping what was once your side of the bed. She swears it still smells like you. Sometimes she’d reach over, pathetically, like muscle memory hadn’t caught up to heartbreak.
The worst part was the silence. She missed your laugh because she completely missed the joke you made. The way you tried to speak Hindi, even though your pronunciation wasn’t the greatest, it was the fact that you tried. The way you looked at her like she was something good.
It was late one night when Sevika broke.
She stood outside your door, her heart thudding out of her chest like it had something to say before she did. She hesitated; it wasn’t fair that she was crawling back to you for something she broke off. She was a coward. About to turn back, the door swings open, and Sevika looks up to see you.
You didn’t look surprised to see her. Just tired.
Tired and lovely, and still hers, in some unspoken way.
Sevika cleared her throat, trying to gain some control of herself. “I was wrong. I got scared and in the end I’m the one that hurt you.”
You said nothing, but instead observed her. You watched the way her breath catches up to her. Her fingers fidgeted on her sides, trying to grab something but falling short.
“I still think you deserve better than me,” Sevika went on. “But I also know that I’ve never wanted someone this much in my life.”
A pause.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
You studied her for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, you step aside and open the door wider. And there it was. The same doe eyes looking at her, the day she gave you directions. The soft smile playing on your lips.
And this time, Sevika walks in. No fear and not one doubt in her mind.
