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animentality

luphelia

This is probably the funniest post ive seen in a long while

cutecipher

reblog if its okay for people to send you $5,000 dollars with no strings attached

beardedmrbean

theman

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

tattooedzombigirl

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

secondlina

Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.

plagued-roses

MAGIC POTATO GO!🥔

thaumbody

here we go again

reblogging the golden potato

hoping it will work

that my life will get a perk

project-catgirlpiller

tiny-space-whale

Reblog if you are a human rights extremist who believes that all humans are equal and has no sense of loyalty to nation states.

prettyinpink69

Modern Cowboy!Sevika Hc's

(All art credits go to their respective owners!)

Wc: 0.5k

Warnings: none!

anasabdin

Dispersion

kaitlyn-mazer

I’m just going to leave this here :)

I’m in love with Sevika and I wish there was more merch for her ❤️

writerscourt

Hero Motivations

Avoiding financial ruin

Escaping / dismanteling a toxic / dangerous way of living

Finding love

Finding purpose

Following a prophecy

For a cause that matters to them (family business, …)

Forced to act against their will

Fulfilling a promise made

Fulfilling their life’s dream

Getting over a personal issue

Living up to expectations

Preventing their own death or that of a loved one

Purely out of the desire to do good / philanthropy

Redeeming self for past mistakes

Revenge after being wronged

Saving a loved one

Saving their world / society

Tearing down an unjust system / institution

Thrill for adventure

To gain respect / love from someone

Uncovering the truth

Vindication / proofing someone wrong

See also: Villain Motivations

tqlepatia

can you do Sevika taking care of reader while she’s sick? fluff <3

— “𝓣 imes like these . . . ”

content : sevika taking care of sick!fem reader, fluff. wanings : none, only puuure fluff !

You don’t remember falling asleep on the couch. One moment, you were just a little cold, a little dizzy and the next, the ceiling light above you blurred and your body gave out, curled up under whatever blanket was closest.

Sevika finds you like that hours later, wrapped up like a burrito, your face pale except for the bright blotches of fever on your cheeks, eyes fluttering open when the front door creaks.

She freezes in the doorway, grocery bags still in her arms, keys dangling from between her fingers. There’s a moment of dead silence, then:

"The fuck?" She drops the bags. "Babe?"

Your voice barely comes out. "M’fine."

"You’re clearly not," she mutters, kneeling next to the couch like she’s trying not to spook you. "Why didn’t you call me? You look like hell."

You try to smile, but even your lips feel sore. "Didn’t wanna bother you at work."

She stares. For a second, you swear her eye twitches. Then she’s muttering under her breath in a mixture of sarcasm and concern as she presses the back of her hand to your forehead. "God, you’re boiling. Yeah, let’s not bother me with your possibly dying next time."

She disappears for a few minutes. You half-doze, but hear the distant clatter of cabinets, the low hum of her voice cursing out loud when she can’t find the damn thermometer, and then—her footsteps.

She returns with her hands full: a glass of cold water, medicine, a damp washcloth, and a soup reheated from the day before

"You’re gonna sit up and take this," she says, and somehow manages to do all the things she claims she’s bad at: being gentle, being patient, being soft.

You end up leaning into her chest as she helps you drink water, one arm curled around your back to steady you, the other holding the glass. She doesn’t say much. Just "slow," and "good job, baby," and "you’re so fucking stubborn," but with her chin resting against your head and her fingers brushing sweat-damp hair from your temple.

Once you’ve eaten a few spoonfuls of soup, fed to you carefully, like you’re something fragile—she grabs the hairbrush from your room and starts brushing out the tangles you couldn’t even begin to think about.

You’re curled up between her legs now, back pressed to her chest, while her metal arm holds you steady and her human hand strokes slowly through your hair.

"You always brush my hair when I’m sad," you murmur.

"You’re not sad," she replies, tone dry. "You’re gross and sick.” You grin weakly. “Same thing.”

Her sigh is long, but not annoyed. She presses a kiss to the crown of your head. "You ever scare me like this again, I’m shaving your damn head."

Eventually, she gets you into bed, even if she has to carry you. You protest, but she only rolls her eyes and adjusts her grip. "You’re lucky I love you," she mutters.

Under the covers, she tucks a heating pad against your back and slips in beside you. Her hand finds yours beneath the blankets, thumb stroking your wrist in absentminded little circles, grounding you.

She even makes tea, one of those weird herbal ones you like, blowing on it before handing you the mug, watching you sip like it’s the most important thing she’ll do all day.

Later, while you’re dozing again, she reads to you in a low voice. Something from your favorite book, the one she secretly memorized parts of. Her voice rough but steady, like a lullaby only you get to hear.

And just before you fall asleep, you hear her murmur against your temple,

"Next time you feel off… you tell me, alright? You’re all I’ve got." You don’t answer, your body’s too tired—but your fingers tighten around hers. And that’s enough. For her, that’s everything.

౨ৎ - 𝐓aglist ; @prettyinpink69 , @abbysdollie , @marieeeluvsyou , @littlelovelunette , @madzorwhatever , @zvmbitegirl , @salsalsusu , @katarandaa, @starrycherie, @moonshimegf , @watermelonshine, @zombieeepup, @laviannasfanfics, @windytulips, @genderfluidlesbain999, @dulcerbbns, @selxoxomwa, @dynacats, @supalcina, @sunshinesunflower16.

— comment on this post if you want to be added !

sevikaswinkinghole

Nights Like This

NSFW

You and Sevika go out for date night drinks and dinner, but will Sev make it through the night with a vibrator inside her?

CW: afab!reader, pet names, mentions of reader on period, face riding, public sex, porn with very little plot, Sevika drinks but isn’t drunk

Word count: 2.4k

sapphicstrawcore

can I maybe do a request where sevika who’s learning vulnerability has a panic attack in front of reader for the first time after good while into their relationship and reader helps her through it?

— Where it’s safe to break, quiet after the storm

cw: description of panic attack, pure heartbreaking fluff, sevika needs a hug and she gets it

masterlist ᰔ

Sevika’s the kind of woman who keeps it all in. Not because she thinks it’s healthy—she’s not that naïve—but because it’s the only way she knows how to survive. Zaun doesn’t exactly reward softness, and vulnerability? That’s a luxury. One she never had time for.

She’s used to pushing through. Gritting her teeth through the noise in her head, the pressure in her chest, the weight of whatever the day threw at her. Panic isn’t new. Meltdowns aren’t foreign. She just doesn’t let anyone see them. Especially not you.

And it’s not that she doesn’t trust you. It’s just… you’re different.

You’re the first person she’s ever been with who doesn’t carry violence like a second skin. You laugh easily. You smile like you mean it. Even here in Zaun, surrounded by all its rust and poison, you find joy in the smallest things—a good cup of tea, a quiet night in, some dumb joke she doesn’t get but loves hearing you tell anyway.

You make her feel human. And that scares the shit out of her.

She’s a fighter, a soldier, a killer.

So Sevika does what she always does. She clenches her jaw. She shuts it down. She pretends she’s fine because she has to be. Because letting go—even for a second—feels like opening a floodgate she can’t close.

But she can only carry so much.

She doesn’t know why it’s that night.

Nothing set her off. There was no fight, no threat. The city was quiet—at least by Zaun’s standards. You’d spent the day together. You smiled at her the same way you always do. God knows why you’re rarely grumpy. You’d even kissed her goodnight with that little hum you make when you’re sleepy and safe. Like nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

And yet, her chest has been tightening for hours.

It started in her hands. That familiar shake, too subtle to name. Then the back of her neck burned like someone was watching her. Then her heart started pounding, slow and hard like fists against a steel door. Her jaw ached. She’d been clenching it all evening.

But she said nothing.

She never says anything. Not about this. Not when it feels like admitting it would make it worse—would make it real. Sevika’s always been the one who fixes things. Who holds the line, fights the fight, stays standing no matter what. Panic has no place in her world. Not anymore.

And still—it won’t stop.

By the time the lights are off and the apartment is quiet, it’s unbearable. She can’t breathe right. Her thoughts are racing but going nowhere, looping in half-formed fragments she doesn’t understand. Her body feels wrong. Like she’s not in it anymore. Like she’s floating outside herself, watching it all fall apart.

So she gets up. Quietly. Doesn’t even bother putting on a shirt.

She slips into the bathroom and locks the door.

Because you’re here. You’re asleep in the other room. And the idea of you seeing her like this—shaking, choking on nothing, falling apart over nothing—makes her panic even more.

She sinks to the floor. Her back hits the wall. One hand grips her hair and the other digs into her thigh. She breathes through her teeth like she’s bleeding and can’t afford to scream. Like she can muscle her way through this if she just holds on tight enough.

But it’s not working. It hasn’t worked for hours.

And unfortunately for her, you’re a light sleeper—especially when it comes to her.

You’d felt it earlier. The way she’d gone still during dinner. The way her eyes didn’t settle. Like she was somewhere else entirely. You knew better than to ask. Sevika doesn’t talk about feelings. Not easily. Not even with you. Not yet.

So you gave her space. Let her think she’d hidden it. Let her believe she was fine.

But the soft thump wakes you.

It’s not loud. Just a dull sound—flesh hitting wood. The bathroom door. You blink into the dark, instinctively reaching for the space beside you. It’s cold. Empty.

Then you hear it.

Not words. Not cries. Just… movement. Uneven. Desperate. The kind of restless shifting that doesn’t belong to a woman like Sevika—solid, steady, grounded. It’s the sound of someone trying not to fall apart and failing.

You get up quietly, bare feet against the cold floor, padded steps toward the door. You don’t knock. You don’t want to scare or… overwhelm her more than she already is.

Instead, you lean your forehead gently against the doorframe, hands folded like you’re trying to hold her without touching her, and ask—soft and careful, like the question itself might shatter her.

“Sevika ?”

No response. But you don’t leave. Of course you don’t.

“I’m not gonna ask what’s wrong,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I’m here. That’s all. You don’t have to open the door. I’ll be here either way.”

You mean it. She knows you do.

And inside, she hears you. Hears the quiet steadiness in your voice. No fear. No pity. No pressure. Just you. Like always.

She doesn’t answer.

The minutes drag.

You don’t move. Just stay there, sitting now, knees pulled up, your cheek resting against the cool wood of the bathroom door. You breathe slow and steady on purpose, hoping she can hear it. Hoping she remembers how to follow it.

Then—click.

The lock turns.

Slowly, the door opens just enough to reveal her—barely more than a shadow in the soft hallway light. She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t look at you. Her chest is rising too fast, too hard, like she’s been running for hours. Her human hand is shaking, her mech arm not looking like a menace but still shaking. Her jaw is clenched so tight it’s a wonder she hasn’t cracked a tooth.

And her eyes—her eyes aren’t really seeing you.

She’s not here.

She’s somewhere else. Lost in it. Buried beneath years of rage and grief and silence, and now that it’s out, it’s too much—way too much. Like her body has decided for her that she can’t carry it anymore.

She stumbles. Just slightly. Her knees threaten to give.

You don’t think. You just move.

You sink to your knees and reach for her, arms wrapping around her waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And the second you touch her—

She collapses.

Not violently. Not dramatically. Just folds. Like something inside her snapped and she doesn’t have the strength to pretend anymore.

Her weight falls into you, her forehead hitting your shoulder, her body shaking uncontrollably as she gasps for breath that won’t come. One of her hands claws at your shirt like she’s drowning. The other stays limp at her side. Her whole frame trembles in your arms, caught between holding on and letting go.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, again and again, voice thick with calm and love and patience. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

But she isn’t. Not yet.

She’s gasping, hyperventilating, her muscles seizing with panic she’s tried to bury for years. She’s crying without realizing it—silent tears running hot down her cheeks, soaking your shoulder. And you just hold her through it. Rock her. Match your breathing to hers until she can feel it. Anchor her.

Because she’s never learned how to be soft. But tonight, in your arms, for once—she doesn’t have to be strong.

She doesn’t calm down for a long moment.

Until eventually, her breathing slows.

Not by much. Not all the way. But enough.

The shakes settle into small tremors. The gasps fade into shallow breaths. Her weight is still slumped against you, heavy and damp with sweat, like she’s just come back from war. And maybe, in her own way, she has.

You stroke a hand up and down her back, gentle and slow, grounding her. Not trying to fix anything. Just being there. And slowly, painfully, her body starts to loosen. Like she’s remembering she’s not alone. Like your presence is something solid she can hold onto.

And she stays quiet.

Even after the panic fades, even after her hands stop shaking and her breathing finds a rhythm again—Sevika doesn’t say a word.

Not because she’s holding back tears. Those are long gone now, dried on her cheeks. Not because she’s angry. She’s too tired for that. It’s shame, plain and suffocating. The kind that makes her want to disappear, or at the very least, vanish into the walls until the weight of what just happened stops pressing down on her chest like a boot.

She can’t look at you.

She knows better. Knows you’d never judge her, never use this against her, never treat her like she’s weak. But logic doesn’t matter when your whole body feels like it betrayed you. When you spent your whole life being a soldier, and suddenly you’re the one who needed saving.

Her throat burns. She wants to say something. Anything.

But nothing comes.

You don’t push her.

You just hold her tighter, your hand now brushing through the sweat-damp hair at the back of her neck, your voice low, steady, and warm like it always is when you’re calming her down from a bad day—only softer now. Reverent.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sev,” you murmur. “I’m proud of you. Okay? You did good. So good.”

She flinches—not because she disagrees, but because she doesn’t know what to do with that kind of gentleness. It feels like too much and not enough all at once. She half wants to pull away and snap something bitter, but instead… she stays.

Leans just a little closer.

“You’re safe now,” you whisper. “It’s over. I’ve got you.”

And maybe it’s the way you say it—like she’s not broken, like this wasn’t weakness, like she’s still whole—that makes something in her chest unclench.

She doesn’t respond.

She can’t.

But her fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt. Not tight. Just enough to say don’t let go.

And you don’t.

You don’t say anything else.

You just breathe with her a while longer, your hand in her hair, your other arm still wrapped around her back, holding her like she’s something precious. Eventually, you pull back just enough to press a soft kiss to her temple.

“Come on,” you whisper, like you’re talking to something fragile. “Let’s get back to bed, okay ?”

Sevika doesn’t move at first. Doesn’t speak. Her body feels heavy—like she’s made of lead now, the crash after the storm. Her limbs don’t want to work, her throat still tight with everything she couldn’t say. But when you gently tug her hand, she follows.

She nods. Barely. Just enough to show you she heard.

You guide her to her feet, slow and careful. She’s unsteady, but she doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t pull away. She just lets you hold her upright. Her head dips, resting against your shoulder as you lead her back to the bedroom.

The sheets are still warm.

You help her in first. She doesn’t resist—just sinks into them like she’s been hollowed out. You curl in behind her, arm slipping around her waist, pulling her close with no expectation, no questions. Just warmth. Just you.

“We’re okay,” you murmur against the back of her neck. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

Sevika doesn’t answer.

But her hand finds yours under the blanket and squeezes. Just once.

It’s all she can manage.

And for tonight, it’s enough.

Taglist: @riotstemple29, @blessupblessup, @lonerslug, @ahintofchaos

Did I forget to add someone to the tag list ? Didn’t tag the girls who asked to be tagged in the Bad Slaher series cause I thought you wanted to be tagged only in these, but tell me if I’m wrong.

Anyway, bye loves

sevikalvr

— 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 —

summary!; bodyguard!sevika x pr!reader > mistakes were made, problems get solved, headlines smooth out, and you end up making the same mistake again.

wc; 10.1k — cw; sub!reader, dom!sevika, hair pulling, oral sex (r!receiving), scissoring, slight fingering (r!receiving), biting, slight degrading, overstimulation to the point of fainting, and of course aftercare. MINORS DNI!!

note; I didn’t realize how long I had made this chapter but I hope you all enjoy it! let me know if you want something similar with another arcane character!! happy reading 🌸

part one here!

Your eyes flutter awake from the warmth you’re embraced in. Legs draped over Sevika’s waist as her arms were slung low across your waist, the weight of it casual and terrifying all at once. Her breathing is steady. Deep. Like nothing happened last night.

Like she didn’t spend most of last night making you forget your name. You didn’t even know you could even last for that many rounds, but you learn something new everyday right?

Anyways, you don’t move. Not yet. The hotel room is dim, the only light coming in from a crack in the blackout curtains. The AC occasionally makes a sound that fills up the room for the second as it turns on. You're half-curled against her chest, one of your legs tangled with hers, a thigh muscle twitching every now and then beneath your skin. Your actual clothes are nowhere in sight.

Jesus Christ this was such a mistake.

velvetsserenity

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic with Sevika where the size difference with the reader is emphasized? Not in an odd way but sevika being 6’1 and so muscular and nobody talks about it, it’s unfair 🥲

Thank you for your ask! Sorry it took me awhile to write & publish it! Hope you like it. ❤︎

overshadowed

sevika x f!reader

✎ word count: 2.3k

꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, size difference, strap-on use, oral sex through underwear (reader receiving) , vibrator use, mild overstimulation, aftercare

The door slammed shut behind you with a thud that rattled the hinges, but neither of you noticed. You were too tangled up in Sevika’s hands, her mouth, the low laugh that hummed against your lips when you fumbled with the lock and missed, twice.

“Cute,” she murmured, her breath hot against your cheek, before she caught your jaw with a single, calloused hand and tilted your face back up to hers.

She was so much taller than you. Always had been, always would be. It wasn’t something either of you brought up, but it was felt. In the way you had to tilt your head back to meet her gaze. In the way her shadow fell over you when she stepped close, broad shoulders blotting out the world behind her. In the way your hands could never quite wrap all the way around her bicep, no matter how tight you tried to cling.

She kissed you again— hard, hungry, like she needed to stake her claim from the front door all the way to the bedroom. You barely had a second to breathe before your back hit the hallway wall with a soft thud, her thigh pressing between your legs like she belonged there. Like you belonged to her.

"Can't even make it down the damn hall," she said against your mouth, not that it stopped her. Her lips were slick with yours. Her voice rough, rumbling, a storm building in her throat. “Look at you. So desperate.”

You whimpered, hands sliding up beneath her jacket, only to clutch the solid wall of her back. Muscles met your fingers wherever they searched.h. And still, you wanted more.

Sevika chuckled again as she pulled away just enough to see you, and fuck, she took up the whole damn hallway. The lights from the ceiling couldn't touch you anymore, not with the way she towered above you, built like a weapon, eyes half-lidded and locked on your mouth like she was ready to break it open again.

"Bedroom," you whispered, breathless. Begging.

She didn’t answer. Just scooped an arm around your waist and practically lifted you forward, guiding you in a stumbling walk down the hall as you both kept kissing, bumping into doorframes, laughing when your shoulder hit the edge of the wall and Sevika growled like she might tear it down for getting in the way.

By the time your knees hit the edge of the bed, Sevika wasn’t letting go.

You landed on your back with a bounce, hair spilling across the sheets. Your shirt was halfway up your ribs, chest heaving, lips kiss-swollen and open for her again. Always open.

Sevika stood above you, and the sight alone made you ache. Her frame filled the doorway of your shared bedroom, broad arms planted against either side of the frame like she needed to brace herself, like she was too big to even fit. Shadows clung to her chest, her arms, the hard lines of muscle that shifted and stretched beneath her skin.

And then she moved forward.

Climbing onto the bed felt like watching a storm roll in— slow, inevitable. Her body blocked the light from the bedside lamp. You sucked in a breath as her knees caged your hips and her arms bracketed your shoulders. The room dimmed beneath her. All you could see was her.

All muscle, all heat, all Sevika.

Her mouth caught yours again in a kiss that melted every part of you. She tasted like whiskey and iron and the last time she said “I love you” without words. You hooked your fingers into the crooks of her arms, your nails biting into the slope of her bicep, desperate to hold on, to stay tethered to the overwhelming, grounding weight of her body above yours.

She groaned into your mouth when you did that, like it tugged something low from her chest and shifted even closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space between you.

"Fuck," she whispered, her voice gone gravel-soft as she leaned down to press a line of kisses along your jaw, your throat, the edge of your collarbone. "You're so small like this."

You gasped. She kissed lower.

"Mine."

Sevika’s mouth dragged lower, teeth grazing the skin just above your chest before her lips soothed the bite. Then she was kissing down your stomach, deliberate and slow like she had nowhere to be but between your thighs, like the path to get there deserved worship too.

Your fingers threaded through her thick hair, pulling gently, desperate for more. You felt tiny beneath her but never more than when she pinned your hips with one massive hand, her palm splayed wide across your stomach like it belonged there.

“You shaking already?” she muttered, voice half-mocking, half-affectionate. “Haven’t even touched you yet.”

She kissed just above the waistband of your pants and you whimpered— a soft, desperate sound that had her smirking against your skin. With one tug, she had them undone, and then it was all her, her hands, her strength, lifting your hips like they were weightless and dragging your pants down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your soaked underwear.

You barely had time to breathe before she tossed your legs over her shoulders like nothing, like you were a pillow in her lap. The stretch of it made your thighs tense, but Sevika kept her hands steady on your hips, holding you open, holding you still.

And then her mouth was on you.

Through the fabric.

The first drag of her tongue against your panties was slow and intentional, pressing hard against the soaked fabric and making you jerk. She groaned low, deep in her throat, the vibration of it sending shivers all the way up your spine.

“Already wet?” she teased, kissing over the drenched center again, lips warm and slick against cotton. “Fuckin’ mess.”

You whined, trying to shift, but she wasn’t letting you go anywhere. Her hands held your thighs firm against her broad shoulders, arms thick and flexed as she pushed your legs wider apart. You couldn’t close them even if you tried. She was everywhere. All you could feel was muscle, grip, tongue.

The next lick was slower, from the bottom of your panties all the way to the top. Her tongue pressing right where you needed it, soaking the fabric even more. She didn’t move it aside. Not yet. No, Sevika liked the way it clung to you. Liked how ruined it was getting. Liked how you were panting and squirming with nothing but a few inches of cloth between her and your bare pussy.

“You gonna come like this?” she murmured, mouthing at your clothed cunt, letting her teeth graze just barely over the swell of your folds beneath the fabric. “Fuckin’ soaked through already. Keep grinding on my face, baby.”

You couldn’t even form words. Your hips were twitching, lifting just enough to chase her mouth, and she let you, let you fuck yourself against her tongue like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Her hands never loosened. She held you down, muscles shifting against your skin as she worked you open through the mess she was making of your underwear.

Your breath hitched when her tongue pressed right against your clit still through the soaked cotton, enough to make your back arch, your fingers clench the sheets, your moan break in your throat.

She looked up at you then, still mouthing you slowly, wetly, messily. Her eyes were dark and glazed, jaw working against the heat of you like she was starved.

“Gonna rip these,” she growled, voice barely coherent, breath hot through the wet fabric. “Gonna fucking ruin you.”

The heat of her breath lingered even as she pulled back, her face damp with your arousal. She looked down at you flushed, panting, barely able to keep your legs from shaking off her shoulders and grinned. That slow, lopsided smirk that always meant trouble.

“Stay like that.”

You barely had time to process before she reached over to the night table with one arm, the other still holding you steady. The drawer slid open with a loud clack, and she pulled out the strap— thick, dark, already fitted with the harness she liked best. Your breath caught.

She didn’t need to rush. She knew she had you, splayed out, panties soaked to the point of being see-through, thighs still draped over her shoulders. You watched, dazed and desperate, as she stood and rolled the harness up her legs, tightening the straps like she’d done it a thousand times.

And then her hand moved lower between her own legs pressing a small, slick vibe against her clit beneath the harness.

“Fuck,” Sevika hissed under her breath, voice cracking low in her throat. She tilted her hips slightly, rolling against the toy for a second with her eyes fluttered shut. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Then she was back between your legs.

She didn’t bother removing your panties. Just hooked her fingers into the side and dragged the soaked fabric to the side, exposing your dripping pussy while the ruined material stayed bunched, biting into your thigh. Her eyes dropped. She groaned deep.

“Look at this fuckin’ mess,” she rasped, lining herself up. “All mine.”

The stretch hit firs, slow, thick, relentless as she pushed inside in one smooth, deep stroke, the strap filling you until your eyes rolled back and your fingers scrabbled to find purchase. She didn’t give you time to adjust. Just reached up, took your legs, and folded you back.

The mating press hit deep.

Your knees were nearly pressed to your chest, ankles caught in the crooks of her elbows as she leaned in, her massive body pinning you down completely, her chest brushing yours, all muscle and heat and control. She blocked out everything. The world could’ve burned down around you and all you’d know was the pressure of her cock inside you and the weight of her body grinding over yours.

Each thrust was devastating.

Deep, slow, dragging along every nerve inside you. The sound of wet skin meeting skin filled the room, sticky and obscene. yYour soaked panties clinging to one side, the rest of you trembling beneath her. You couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop arching. Couldn’t stop clenching around her strap like you were trying to keep her inside forever.

One hand braced beside your head. The other still rubbing that little vibrator against her clit through the harness, her jaw tight, breath ragged.

She looked completely undone, strands of hair clinging to her forehead, body heaving with effort, arms flexing as she kept you exactly where she wanted. Her hips bucked harder, grinding deep on every stroke. You could feel how worked up she was, not just from the toy, but from the way you gasped and clung to her arms like they were your lifeline.

“You feel that?” she growled, voice broken against your ear as she fucked into you deeper, faster, pace snapping now with brutal rhythm. “Taking every inch of me. So tight. So fuckin’ good for me.”

You were already gone. Slurring her name, breath catching on every thrust, your thighs trembling against her sides. You tried to speak, tried to beg but all that came out were ragged, breathless sounds and the high, broken edge of a moan as her cock anlged just right, hitting the spot that made you cry out.

She felt it.

Sevika groaned through gritted teeth, biting down on her lip, legs trembling now too as the vibe worked her closer. Her hips stuttered for a second then she shoved in harder, deeper, grinding into you until the bed creaked beneath both your bodies.

“Come for me,” she growled, hand shaking where it clutched your thigh, her voice like gravel as the toy buzzed harder. “Come all over my cock, baby. Let me feel it.”

And you did, clenching hard around her, body shaking, choking on a sob of pleasure as your orgasm crashed through you. She never let up. Not for a second. She rode you through it, panting now, her own body twitching as she pushed the vibe harder against her clot, grinding once, twice until her mouth dropped open in a silent groan and she froze above you, shaking with release.

For a moment, the room was nothing but panting, sweat, and the creak of the bed under two tangled bodies.

Sevika pulled out slowly, her breath still ragged, the strap slick between your thighs. You twitched beneath her, legs trembling, and she pressed a kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “Easy, baby. I got you.”

She tossed the harness to the side, wiped you clean with a towel she found by the bed gentle, wordless. Then she climbed in beside you and opened her arms.

You didn’t hesitate.

Her body was huge and warm, all muscle and heat as she wrapped you up in her chest, her thigh slotted between yours, one hand splayed across your back like she could keep you there forever. You fit under her chin like a secret.

“Don’t move,” you whispered sleepily.

“Wasn’t gonna,” she mumbled back, voice thick with exhaustion. “Stay right here.”

And you did, breathing slow, held tight in her arms, until sleep folded over you both like a second blanket.

plagarism not authorized

mmmmilo00-deactivated20251223

Domestic!Sevika modern AU

Domestic!Sevika who always gets up earlier on weekdays to prepare coffee for both you and her. She'll tip toe around the house to avoid making noises but it proves useless because the coffee machine is super loud and you end up waking up startled anyway.

Domestic!Sevika who cooes at your bedhead once you arrive in the kitchen,wanting nothing more than to squeeze your cheeks. She'll never tell you that ofcourse,so she'll tease you with a "Who did you fight in your sleep babe". She can't even comprehend what your answer is because of how sleepy you are so she just chuckles softly before giving your grumpy self one of her trophy pecks on the cheek.

Domestic!Sevika who insists that you eat a full breakfast meal because she's a firm believer of it being the most important meal of the day. She's a gym rat so she eats very balanced meals filled with lots and lots!!! of nutrients and she absolutely wants you to have the best energy throughout the day.

Domestic!Sevika who won't leave for work until you give her a kiss,she'll tell you it's for goodluck and to give her another one so she can maximise it.

Domestic!Sevika who spends the day at work waiting to go back home to your arms, feeling the day already draining her (she's been there less than 30 minutes)

Domestic!Sevika who brings home takeouts from your favorite place!! She'll put it in the microwave and wait for you to come back home so she can eat it.

Talking about that, she can never eat dinner without you present, she says it's because she'll know she'll eat everything before you get back home,but truly it's because she appreciates your presence and knowing that you're safe and sound around her.

Domestic!Sevika who'll sometimes sleep on the couch,while watching a show and you'd have to wake her up and she'd never wake up!!!! You'll basically have to drag her to the bedroom or else she'll complain the whole day tomorrow about her back hurting!!

Domestic!Sevika who loves you very much and is genuinely so soft for you, and you can clearly see it by the way she handles things around you vs around her coworkers/friends.

Silco would call her up with a small,miniscule TINY favor and she would huff and puff and grumble throughout the whole thing. But you could literally ask her to move the couch on the other floor on a random Tuesday afternoon and she would have it done w no complaints.

I LOVE HER SMMMMM

-------------------------------------------------------

First ever fanfic I've posted in my life lmaoo sev is so cute I want her

sevikaswinkinghole

Sevika Imagines⋆｡°✩

NSFW

Minors DNI 🫵🏾

⚬Sub!Sevika truther here. Like yes she has the strap on her, yes its big, and ribbed for your pleasure obviously, but……what about her needs?

⚬Sevika who loooves getting fingered. After a long day of fighting Silco’s battles and taking all the shit she has to endure, nothing eases her stress like going dumb on your fingers. She will suck, spit, gag, even ride your fingers after a hard day’s work as long as you tell her how perfect she looks taking you so well. Her needy pussy making a mess while her stress melts away at your touch.

⚬Sevika who has a huuge praise kink. You think the most loyal person in Zaun who’s constantly being thrown around and hurt wouldn’t melt at being called “good" for once? I think if you told her she did a good job at literally anything she’d get wet.

⚬Sevika who can’t touch herself anymore. When she tries, it’s never even half as good as when you do it. Something about the way your fingers move along her body, or maybe it’s how your tongue knows how to make her head spin. It gets so bad that you came home from work one day to find her in bed ass up trying to satisfy herself. Her big grey eyes filled with tears as her clit throbbed and dripped with sin.

⚬Sevika who wakes you up in the middle of the night, groaning pathetically as her hips buck into yours from behind. You stir awake to find her flesh hand in the waistband of your shorts while she whines in your ear about some dream she had. She practically begs you to wake up and help her, and when you claim you're too tired, she climbs on top and grinds her wet cunt into yours til sunrise.

⚬Sevika who secretly loves fooling around in public…but only when you do it. She tries to act tough like it’s so bad to sneak off from your friends, or when she playfully fights back when you try to touch her in a dressing room at the mall, but she never resists for long. She practically falls apart and soaks through her boxers when you push her into a bathroom stall at the movies, your hushed giggles and roaming hands making her stomach flip.

⚬Sevika who didn’t feel true love and devotion until she had sex with you. You took care of her in ways she had never experienced before. You took time to learn her body and find out what made her feel good, how she liked to be treated, and how to please her in ways brothels never could. It made her so comfortable around you, that her body willed itself to your every command.

FIRST WORK ON THE BLOG !!

This is lowkey really short and it's kinda ass since I haven't written in quite some time.........BUT I'm gonna keep working on my skills so I can give the people the raunchiest sevika content possible 🙂‍↕️

If you got this far, Ily <33333

~Squuoosh

ana1princes5

some of sevika’s kinks

overstim

she absolutely loves to overstimulate you. forcing so many orgasms out of your tired body that your brain starts oozing out of your ears, the room filled with your whimpers and sobs

loves to see the drool running down your chin, tears staining your cheeks, and sweat coating your forehead. she adores making a mess of you

and it fills her with pride when she see you trying to calm yourself down, wanting to take more. she’s so proud of her girl, always wanting to obey. no matter how draining it is

“aww sweetheart, is your poor little clit all sensitive?”

orgasm control

on the contrary, she also loves to make you beg to cum

“c’mon baby, cumming is a privilege not a right. you know that.”

if you’ve been bad, there’s nothing she would rather do. laying you down and bringing you right to that edge before she takes her hand away, watching your reaction as the sensation fizzles away

and finally after a couple hours of the torture; she lets you cum, just not properly. taking her hand away just as she feels your orgasm washing over you, and watches you twist and turn to try and get some type of friction

but she holds your legs open so you can’t even rub your thighs together

“where’s my thank you? i let you cum didn’t i? say thank you”

impact play

love love loves giving you little taps across the face. never fully slapping you because she’s too scared to hurt you, just bringing your attention back to her if she sees your mind wandering

but your ass? omg it’s covered in faded bruises and belt shaped welts from past punishments that are going down. and whenever she brings her hand down, you know that the rings on her fingers will be leaving marks

velvetsserenity

they call me firecracker

client!sevika x brothelworker!reader

✎ word count: 2k

꩜ content warnings: nsfw, rough strap-on sex, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, degradation, humiliation, possessive behavior, objectification, power imbalance, client x sex worker dynamic, biting, bruising, smoking, dubious consent themes, lack of aftercare

The hallway hushes the moment her boots hit the floor.

Not fast—just slow, deliberate steps on the creaking wood. Heavy enough to feel through the soles of your shoes. You don't need to look. You know it's her. Everyone does. Her shadow hits the velvet wall just seconds before she rounds the corner, and every other girl either looks away or pretends not to notice.

She doesn’t stop for anyone. She never does.

The madam gives a barely visible nod, already stepping aside, and then Sevika’s eyes find yours through the half-curtained doorframe.

She doesn’t knock. She never has. Just presses a gloved hand to the doorframe, pushes it open like she owns the place, and steps in with a drag of smoke trailing behind her.

You’re on your knees, arranging your just washed lingerie, your back arched just enough to make a point—and her gaze catches. Lingers.

“Didn’t expect you tonight,” you say, without turning.

“You should’ve,” she replies. Her voice is rough. Cigarette low in her mouth, hand already unfastening the top clasp of her coat.

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