Oh my stars! I dont repost things alot, but this is amazing! Its really helpful for me and I appreciate the time they took to make it for others!! :) reposting for more littles to see!!!
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she is definitely the type to accidentally sleep in her work clothes, she'd get home from work insanely late and just be far too tired to change out of them.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she somehow always misplaces her items in the most obvious places, it isn't her fault ! in her defense, one moment it's here and the next ... It's just gone.
sevika grumbled under her breath as her sharp silver eyes looked around for her missing reading glasses
"baby did you- tch do you know where i put my glasses?"
"there on your head vika...."
"oh.."
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ since your girlfriend is on the older side, she genuinely does not understand how to use these new apps, tiktok? Instagram? yeah, no, when you tell her she should get tiktok, she immediately declines, saying she thinks facebook is better.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ but after all your begging she eventually does get tiktok, at first she doesn't open the app for days ...but out of curiosity she does...let's just say her screentime on her phone went up.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ when she finds your tiktok my god the woman is mesmerized, in her repost it's all of your videos and that's it, and she's always your first mutual to like your videos when you post them.
*user @sevikaa123456 liked your post*
*user @sevikaaa123456 added your post to favorites*
*user @sevikaaa123456 reposted your video*
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ you would get random notifications at work of sevika sending you funny (lowk unfunny) tiktoks
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she's so insanely awkward when you take pictures of her or with her, she doesn't know how to pose and gets embarrassed and genuinely doesn't see the point in it.
"i don't know why your followers have to see a picture of me eating noodles..."
"but you look so cute !! it's just going on my story !"
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ talking about Instagram she eventually ended up downloading that too, she had no idea how to control that app at all and wtf were 'insta reels?' and why would someone name there username HER name ???? (which resulted in her username being seviika1234) you're her only follower, btw
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ certified yapper when it comes to you, she has two framed pictures on her desk at work...one of you from one of your birthday parties and another of you and her at one of her friends get togethers....one of colleagues ask her about the pictures and trust she'll just start yapping about you and how amazing you are.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ not that she'd ever admit this, but she LOVES being little spoon, she likes the feeling of your front side on her back... it's so comforting to her.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ it's hard to say whether if she's a light sleeper or not because sometimes she is and sometimes she isn't ....like she's napping in the living room and you accidentally drop a pot while cooking ?? she's still asleep, in the exact same position...but if she falls asleep with you in her arms, she's easily woken by the feeling of you gone.
your sleepy eyes squint as you washed your hands, too tired to open them all the way... you got up to use the bathroom leaving sevika in the bed alone
you wipe your hands dry and go to open the bathroom door, and you swear you almost felt your heart slammed right into your ass.
there stood sevika, right in front of the bathroom doorframe.
"fuck ! fuck !- sevika what are you-"
"where'd you go?" her gruff and deep raspy voice spoke out, the tiredness laced in her tone and almost annoyed as if your the one who scared her.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ again so awkward when you record her, when you make a tiktok to show off you and hers outfits she stands stiff as a board just looking at the camera and occasionally looking at you not knowing what to do.
caption - ootd with gf !! #wlw #ilovemygf
comments :
@lovelylace89: You and your girlfriend are so cute!! but why is she just standing there 😭
you replying to @lovleylace89 : she's just shy ☺️ @seviika123456
@seviika123456 replying to you : no, I'm not
you replying to @seviika123456 : hiii
@seviika123456 replying to you : hello baby
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she doesn't understand your slang at all, one day she sent you a picture of her at the gym and kid you not she stared at her phone with the most confused look inked on her face at your response that read 'omg you absolute DIVA💜👅'
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ or when she sent you a photo of her at work in her new black suit you bought her.
sevika : *1 attachment* wore that new suit you bought for me today, does it look good.
you: zoo wee mama...you come around these parts often? 😈🚬
sevika : what?
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ extremely observant and very protective posessive over you...at a dinner party and you're wearing a dress that's a little bit to short so when you accidentally drop your napkin and lean down to pick it up she's using her coat to block your legs as your dress rides up your legs from your movement, also using this as an excuse to keep her hand over your lap the rest of the night....totally had nothing to with the men in the room constantly glancing at you.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she's a little insecure about her scarred cheek, so when you compliment it, she's surprised.. even more surprised when you lay little pecks on her cheek.
sevika's big hands held your waist as her face scrunched up, there you sat on your girlfriends lap while laying soft, slightly wet kisses on her cheek that was scarred
"what are you doin' ?" sevika questioned , not knowing whether to be confused or laugh about your actions.
you lean away from her, both hands still on her jaw as your eyes flickered around her beautiful face "you're so beautiful sevi.."
sevika, not knowing how to respond to that just stared at you with slightly wide eyes... mouth softly agaped... , it's definitely not a compliment she received daily or a compliment she could remember receiving in a while.....she suddenly felt warmth in her chest...a familiar feeling...a feeling she only seemed to get when she was around you.
next thing you know sevika is placing fast small pecks on your face, like you were once doing to her, you gasp in shock of her sudden action, light laughs falling from your lips
"s - sev what -"
"shh shh shhh...."
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ even though sevika looks intimidating on the outside, she's such big softie on the inside with you she is literally so gentle with you.... soft cheek caressing, soft kisses..and she's definitely an old fashioned lover type when it comes to relationships.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she has really good patience when it comes to you, she's a good listener too.. but sometimes can get distracted just focused on your facial features..and thinking about how pretty you are when your babbling about your day...(blah blah blah proper name...placename..backstory stuff)
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ when you both started dating sevika was a little stiff and a little awkward when you do any sort of soft physical contact with her cause she isn't used to stuff like that...she has been to focused on her work so she never had time for relationships until you came into her life.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ takes ALOT of alcohol to get her drunk, this women can hold her liquor really good...like it's a friday night and she goes out with her colleagues drinking and talking having a great time and by the end of the night she's the one who is still sober while her colleagues are drunk and calling cabs.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ so we all seen that clip of sevika smiling while caitlyn bit her hand, right ??.....yeah
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ has a major biting kink..whether it's you biting her or her biting you it doesn't matter...both will have her creaming her boxers
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she has this thing for turning you on infront of people, imagine she's playing poker and your sitting right beside her minding your business...suddenly her hand is squeezing your upper thigh, fondling it and messing with you..it's not until she realized your thighs squeezing together she pulls her hand away...pretending as if nothing happened and as if you aren't sitting next to her all hot and bothered.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ her moans aren't loud, there mostly grunts, and low hums as her hands hold on to your hair....
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ she likes to fuck your face, whether its with a strap or just you giving her head doesn't matter...she likes the way your eyes tear up, lips go all swollen and red...she likes how messy your mouth is all wet and soaked after she cums.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ i personally think her favorite position is cowgirl..there's something she loves about seeing you fuck yourself on her strap on top of her...the way your boobs bounced with every movement...the beautiful moans that's blessed her ears and that pretty fucked out look on your face ...the way your hip would falter when your burning thighs got to much for you...and the sounds you made when she began to thrust her hips up to get you off.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ whenever you annoy her or just straight up be a brat, she'd have you hump her thigh like a bitch in heat, she'd listen to your wines and pleads while leaning against the couch and smoking a cigar...her mean self even blowing the smoke in your face.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ loves when you scratch her back with your long nails. You're always shocked, looking at all the scratches you left on her bare flesh, sometimes accidentally drawing blood, but she assures you it's fine.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ eats your pussy like it's her last day on earth, like we all see how much she salivates alot right ?? she's so fucking messy with it ...pulling away to spit on your cunt before going back in...also she likes eye contact....forcing you to keep looking into her eyes and everytime you look away she'd stop.
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ likes to leave hickes on the inner parts of your thighs too, her way of teasing you.
synopsis: when people take a look at sevika they would never assume she’s the submissive type. she’s domineering, headstrong and when she walks through a crowd people always move out of her way. she’s not the type to beg or to be needy, people normally think that of you - her nice, doting partner who’s the complete opposite of her. but oh, how wrong they are.
note: I have a confession… I’m a sub!sevika truther. SEVIKA AS A SUB IS JUST SO HOT TO ME I’M SORRY like the girls who get it, GET IT. I honestly can’t get it out of my head. you just KNOW she’s the type to whimper-[GUNSHOTS]
sevika is a very feared woman. that much was obvious.
you have to be an idiot to mess with her. she was hired by silco for a reason and when someone needs to go down and get their hands bloody, she’s the one who gets called in every single time.
she doesn’t squirm away from violence thus earning her nickname as zaun’s ‘scary lady’ and she’s stayed true to that title especially in the work field - so it’s only safe to assume her relationships aren’t much different.
when you two got together, people snickered at how painstakingly different you both were. while sevika walked around like she owned the place, you always made a point to be accommodating and to have a warm presence around others, never wanting to come across as mean or unapproachable.
her peers have poked fun at her about the relationship, saying to take it easy on you:
“she seems like a sweet girl. you better make sure not to scare her away, sevika. how she took one look at you and had not gotten intimidated is a mystery.” oh, but little do they know.
it honestly makes you laugh, because while others cower away at the mere sight of her, they’ll never really know how your partner is behind closed doors. but at the same time it was a blessing, getting to see her for who she really is as soon as she steps through the doors of your shared apartment and it’s just you two.
at work, she’s ruthless and always brooding. but by the time she comes back home and sees you on the couch waiting for her, it’s like a light switch has been turned off.
and the next thing you know, she’s kneeling on the floor beside you with her head on your lap.
you hummed, setting down the book you were just reading as sevika hugged your legs. you combed through her short silky hair and glided your fingers through her scalp “how was work today, honey?” you asked in a soft voice that made sevika’s spine tingle.
she sighed, looking up at you with her big, tired eyes and a small frown on her face.
“exhausting. I just wanted to come home but silco had me running over the lanes and take over the assembly with the chembarons. I’m so spent.” she groaned, nuzzling her face deeper into the plush of your thighs.
you cooed, sitting up straight as you took her face in your hands “poor thing.” your thumb stroked her scarred cheek, she sighed and leaned into your touch.
“you’ve been so hard at work lately, haven’t you?” you muttered, peppering kiss down her neck.
“do you want me to take the edge off?” you suggested, your lips brushing over the shell of her ear.
a shiver shot right through her at your enticing words “yes please,”
if you were to disclose the actual dynamics in your relationship to either friends or colleagues, they’d look at you like you were crazy. because in what world would sevika act clingy and touch starved? well, to only you, apparently.
they’d never think that you were capable of bringing the older down to her knees, but what they didn’t know is that your partner is tired. tired of having to take care of everyone’s bullshit for them, tired of always being the one to blame for every mishap at work, and tired of being the one to always clean up after people.
she’s exhausted of being the one who gets all the burden dropped on her shoulders.
so when she finally gets to escape the stress of her job, she doesn’t want to be the one doing all the work in the bedroom either.
and you’ve understood that. more than actually and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a blessing.
because who could say that they were lucky enough like you are now as sevika stares up at you with her glossy eyes and hands folded behind her back, kneeling on the floor beside your bed as you stood in front of her. fastening the leather collar on her neck, not too tight but snug enough to make her breath hitch.
you smiled, your fingers gliding delicately over her chin as you held it up.
“my beautiful sevika,” you said which made her heart flutter “if you could see yourself right now… my god.”
because she really was a sight. pliant, naked and needy as she knelt on the floor waiting for your signal on what to do next.
“open your mouth for me,” you said with just enough authority in your tone.
she did as you asked without question and you wasted no time slipping two of your fingers in, feeling the warm muscle of her tongue swirling against your nimble fingers and she closed her eyes at the feeling of her mouth being stuffed.
you thrusted them in and out of her mouth at a languid pace, biting your lip at the sight of your tall and broad girlfriend taking your fingers in her mouth like a whore. once you noticed she was drooling by the corners of her mouth, you slowly pulled your fingers out. making her whine at the loss.
you gave her a faux pout “don’t worry, honey. we’re just getting started.”
you pointed to the bed “now lay down for me, and spread your legs.”
the leash of the collar dangled in your other hand as you tugged on it softly to help her get up. she followed suit without any complaints and once she laid on the bed with her back flat on the mattress, you kneeled down in the middle of her legs and ran a hand down her inner thighs.
she lets out a shaky breath at your teasing behavior but makes no move to complain, she knows this is just how you are and that the fun was just about to get started.
“wider, sev.” you ordered and she instantly parted her legs.
what greeted you made you take in a deep breath. her brown glistening folds drooled with slick and her puffy clit was swollen, begging to be touched. and to think you haven’t even done anything yet here she was, practically soaking the sheets.
“such a pretty cunt, sev.” you sounded damn near drunk and sevika couldn’t help but shy away from your scrutinizing gaze, her cheeks warm and she swears you’re the only person who could bring this side out of her.
you reached down and started thumbing her wet folds with the fingers you had stuck down her throat just seconds ago as sevika threw her head back and begun writhing at the slow pace of which you pumped your fingers in and out of her.
you shuffled closer and dropped the leash on the bed so you can knead her heavy breast in your hand. you leaned down and took her pebbled nipple in your mouth and began swirling your tongue, causing her to let out an obscene moan.
your fingers began to pick up pace and the wet squelching of her drooling cunt filled the air and she couldn’t help but grind desperately down on your fingers, whining and whimpering like a needy slut and you looked up at her, eyes clouded with lust.
the view you were met with was sinful, her mouth dropped open and her eyes were squeezed shut as sweat dripped down between the valley of her breasts that jostled as you thrusted in and out of her.
“you feel that, honey? you feel the way your dripping down my hand and making a mess?” she whimpered at your words “you’ve been waiting for this the whole day, weren’t you?”
she nodded “yes,”
you tilted your head, pulling your mouth away from her erect nipple.
“yes what?” you echoed with a teasing grin and she knew where this was going.
“… yes, mommy.”
you smiled, curling your fingers inside her spongy walls and she arched her back “that’s a good girl,” she started panting heavily, and you immediately noticed the telltale signs of her impending orgasm “you close?”
she nodded again, more frantically “y-yes, fuck, so fucking close.”
you sped up the pace of your fingers and she nearly damn near went cross eyed, moaning so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if your neighbors heard but it didn’t matter especially when sevika looked this heavily in front you. chasing down her release with such fervor and urgency.
“that’s it, baby. cum on my fingers. be a good little slut for mommy and soak them.”
that finally did it for her, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave and she gripped the sheets tightly her knuckles almost turned white. she lets out a broken sob when your relentless pace didn’t stop and you can tell by the way she was clawing at you she was beginning to feel overstimulated.
“mommy please… too much.” she pleaded and you let out a hum.
“okay, okay, baby. I’m sorry.” you chuckled as you pulled your fingers out, lifting them and sucking her cum clean off as she watched you, her cheeks red.
you slowly crawled up and captured her lips with your own. she groaned at the taste of herself on your tongue and you gave her some time to recharge while you reached behind your back and unclasped the hook of your bra.
she pulled away and gawked at the sight of your tits as you sat up, shimmying out your underwear next and you picked up the neglected leash on the bed and pulled.
“are you ready to make mommy feel good, honey?” you asked and she nodded.
“yes, yes, please. use me, mommy. please I want it so bad.” you could’ve came right here and there at the desperate way she was looking at your sopping folds, she looked enthralled.
you shuffled closer and slotted your legs together, trying to find the perfect angle and once you did, you brushed your puffy clit against hers and sevika’s eyes almost rolled at the back of her head at the sensation.
you teased her by rocking back and forth slowly, gathering both of your slicks until your cum dripped down her thighs and sevika could’ve almost cried.
“please mommy… no more teasing.” she whined and you let out a raspy chuckle.
“shhh, baby. I’m just taking my time.” you said until finally you decided to take pity on her, dropping down so your cunt slid and swallowed hers, making you both let out a broken moan at the euphoric feeling.
the squelching sounds were downright filthy, her cum mixing with your as you rubbed your pussy against hers and wasted no time picking up the pace as you gripped the leash much tighter and pulled.
the feeling of her neck getting lightly choked made her mind fuzzy, along with the feeling of your pussy repeatedly dragging against hers that she didn’t know how much longer she could take before she came again.
“that’s it, honey. oh my god.” you moaned as the sliding of your pussies became more and more slippery. looking down as you examined the creamy mess both of you created and the second sevika sensed your ministrations slowing she didn’t hesitate on aiding you with your bouncing.
gripping your hips as she frantically started slamming you down on her clit, making you sob.
“feels so fucking good, mommy. I love your pussy so much. feels so fucking good against mine, cum on me, please. I need it so bad.”
“yeah?” you said, your breathing labored “you want mommy to make a mess out of this needy cunt?”
the feverish sounds of wet skin smacking of skin against wet skin encouraged you to go rougher, along with sevika’s broken cries as she felt another orgasm building up.
“I-I’m gonna cum, mommy. holy shit.” her pace became more frantic and the headboard banged against the wall as sevika impatiently chased her release “mommy, I’m gonna cum, fuck, please-“
“that’s it, baby. cum with me. make a mess out of this fucking pussy.” you told her and that’s all it took for sevika to pour into you, all sticky and warm as she bucked her hips against your own, not nearly as satisfied yet until she was on another brink of overstimulation.
you groaned, allowing her to use you for her pleasure “that’s it, honey…” you leaned down and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, her pace finally faltering “that’s my sweet, strong woman. so good to mommy always.”
she sighed and you kissed her temple, turning her head so her lips met yours “thank you, mommy.”
context: Your muscle mommy Girlfriend takes you on a gym date.
The gym wasn’t exactly your favorite place.
Yeah you liked staying active but the idea of lifting weights sweating and dealing with gym bros who thought they were personal trainers wasn’t exactly appealing. But when Ambessa your fine ass girlfriend suggested you work out together you didn’t exactly say no.
Which was why you were currently standing in front of a mirror struggling with a barbell while she watched with a deep stare.
“You’re overthinking it” she said arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in a tight compression shirt and gym shorts she looked like she belonged in an action movie.
“I’m not overthinking it” you grunted attempting another rep. “I just don’t have arms the size of tree trunks you Muscle Mommy.”
Ambessa laughed a low rich sound that sent heat straight to your stomach. “Muscle Mommy?” She stepped behind you her hands resting lightly on your waist before trailing down to your wrists. “Is that what we’re calling me now? She says*
You smirked. “If the shoe fits….“
Without warning she gripped your hands and lifted the barbell with ease.
“See?” she murmured lips near your ear. “You just needed a little help.”
“You mean you lifting it for me?” you shot back trying to ignore the way her touch made your heart race go up more than the “exercise” itself.
She laughed again pressing a kiss to your temple before stepping back. “You’ll get there sweetheart. Maybe after a few more sessions with your Muscle Mommy.”
You groaned dropping the weights with a huff. “I take it back. I’m never calling you that again.”
Ambessa raised an eyebrow smirking. “Oh you’ll call me that again.” She flexed just to tease you and yeah you were definitely calling her that again.
it’s peak hours on the train to grand central. you and sevika share a booth.
cw: younger woman x older woman, strangers to lovers, reader is anywhere from 23+, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, light dom/sub, complicated relationships with parents, reader's mother is passed, reader’s father battles alcoholism, overcoming implied suicidal ideation, undertones of grief
wc: 5.6k
a/n: i think the only thing that feels worse than making bad art is not making art at all. i really want to like this and can't. exposure therapy is posting it anyway! this is loosely edited so i apologize for any errors, and hope you enjoy x
fic inspired by this beautiful artwork by moonie_forever on twitter.
you don’t see her at first.
you’re focused in a frantic sense, eyes raking up and down over heads stuffed in phones or laptops for a leftover space to cram yourself into.
your hunt yields. you snatch the spot immediately, sliding into the last remaining seat in a six-seated booth.
not that you can afford any pickiness, not that you ever can—but it's an aisle seat. it’s maybe the worst for an hour commute. you’re forced to remember this almost instantly, punished by a careless passenger rushing past who pummels your shoulder with their suitcase.
the offense strikes against you like a match and the anger ignites quicker than you can swallow it.
you yelp under your breath, and look up with a painful hiss, ready to send daggers into the back of the offending head and instead your eyes latch onto her.
sitting diagonal from you, her gaze is on you already. there’s nothing in them, nothing you can discern, anyway. her vague curiosity seems to run out as soon as no argument erupts because she settles back into the book cracked open in her hands.
rubbing your shoulder, you try to be quick. strangers have a keen sense of who’s staring.
you don’t want your trip to get any more annoying, but you take a big gulp and sink under: thin rimmed glasses bridge her strong nose, and she’s dressed comfortably, dark hair tucked away behind her, wisps and fly-aways brushing over her eyes. impossibly long legs eagle outwards in the seat, taking up far more space than necessary, and you nearly laugh—the poor old woman next to her is sitting stock upwards, elbows tucked to death—but it fails to be funny for long, seeing how her thighs dwarf the woman entirely and easily.
the rest of her body follows the same pattern. her arms sit broadly. she’s got a pretty shade on her lips, dark as night, and—
you inhale sharply. she’s watching you watch her, again.
her brow lifts.
you fish for the quickest thing you can reach for: smile breezily and nod towards the book in her hands. tell her with a voice that comes out strong and unwavering that you picked it up a few weeks ago, too.
it isn’t a lie. you recognize the title. the sentence, by louise erdrich—it’s sitting on your shelf in your childhood bedroom, and you’d put the book down temporarily as you had done with most things recently in order to keep yourself afloat.
her eyebrow does something new that rustles inside you.
her voice does something worse. it’s low and smooth velvet, and curls around in your stomach when she offers back, “main character’s a bit of an idiot.”
“only at first,” your grin grows, and loses its performance.
“from cocaine transport and body snatching? i would hope so.”
“she was in love,” you shrug, in her defense. “a pretty woman will do that to you.”
her eyes glint, amusement or a ghost of a laugh or something else golden on the horizon, you’re not sure. she asks if you would know. you answer her, oh, yes. intimately.
there's a crease or a dip in the space between you two that fills itself with words, cradles lines like water cupped in the palm of your hands. you spill nothing even in the awkwardness of talking over the shoulders of the passengers beside you, who continue bouncing their feet in irritation. her gaze flickers to them and back to you, mid-breakdown of both of your least favorite writing sins ranked from most hated to satan couldn’t even think of this—something bridging just on amusement pulling at her mouth.
when the man seated in front of her stands to exit at his station you shift over to take his spot.
your knees crowd together and kiss—she asks you if you have enough space to sit comfortably, and you tell her not to move a muscle. her long legs, stretching outwards like a yawn, hold yours inbetween.
₊⊹
you’d gone home that night and, bored, thought of her briefly as the tall buildings flit by. you wonder and then wish you’d asked what she was doing in new york, where the city was taking her, where she was headed.
and then you move on.
wandering is no longer in your best interests. what’s important is what’s right in front of you, and if you let your attention drift for a moment too long it might crawl out from your grip and shatter to the floor.
you fantasize about it, sometimes, in the weak hours of the night. what it might feel like to let it all fall. how your lungs won’t remember what air feels like when it doesn’t burn. what it might mean if you were to stop running.
alcohol hits you first, always. the stench sobers you up.
you lean one hand against the hallway and lift your heel up behind you, slip your flats off and let them clatter to the floor. your dad doesn’t lift his eyes to greet you when you shuffle into the dark.
“hi, daddy,” you murmur, and rest a light hand on his shoulder as you pass.
he starts under your palm, lets his head roll towards you. the T.V. paints his face blue.
“hi, princess,” his voice scratches on the way out. he shifts, and a bottle rolls out of his lap and clatters onto the floor. you sink to pick it up, gathering another three with you. he grunts, rubbing his drooping eyes torturously slow, working the words out of his mouth. “how was your—uh…your internship?”
you let the bottles rest on the counter. there are about a dozen others there too, your eyes coast over them tiredly. tomorrow, you tell yourself. you said so yesterday, too, but you think you mean it this time. you’ll clear them out tomorrow.
you have nothing left, tonight.
you tell him to remember to turn the television off when he’s done, and after a long, dripping silence he makes a vague noise in his throat in response.
the house is dying.
there’s no pretty way around it, no way to clean the sentiment up. the house is dying. and it took your mother first, one quiet night, under the illusive cover of sleep. your father had first begged despairingly for it to give her back and then resolved to go in after her.
the pile of empty bottles on the kitchen table counts down the days. they increase steadily, creating an ominous figure in the dark, and you glance past them everytime you twist your keys through the lock.
the house is dying. your father wants to die with it, and you know greed when you see it—the floorboards shift and groan under your socks, just biding its time to give way and swallow you whole. it will come after him soon. he won’t have to wait long.
yet no matter how far you go, you can’t shake the feeling sinking its nails into you, trailing inside your shadow. the house is dying. you know that once it takes your father you will be next.
it’s what the city does for you. and you've considered moving countless nights, wrapped in your rainbow zebra print blanket, the one your mother gifted you when you were thirteen and the world was so big it burned.
the city cannot love you back, and so you stand to lose nothing from throwing yourself into its aching maw. you stare at the cars beneath you on the commute with a child weeping in the seat beside and a mother tiredly shushing it, and swallow down the bile that bubbles. stalk through grand central with tall boots that mouth at your knees or heels that make just a bit too much noise because you eat moments that make you feel alive, keep yourself full to keep from reaching for emptiness in worse places.
you’ll take the local to soho, man the shop while your boss goes off to do god-knows-what for hours and wander for a few blocks after your shift is up. you’ll head down to greenwich to sit at the park and catch your breath for a moment and leave before you can let empathy crawl between your tired bones and make you too vulnerable. it shows, sometimes, when you care too much. you avert your eyes from a homeless woman on the bench diagonal from you and bury the feeling away.
bum a smoke from a stranger at a bar or book a table at a restaurant for one, it doesn’t matter. come home around midnight and leave again before the sun. if the plan keeps you on your feet then it’s a good one.
but then there was her.
and wandering won’t do you any good—the snag she clipped in your routine was barely a blip and still her smile sears behind your eyelids, burning everytime you squeeze them shut.
she was funnier than you’d expect of her. though she’d seemed at first confused and then entertained by your giggling—her humor was a bit dry, and her face far too expressive for her own good. you’ve never seen eyebrows that moved so much.
you had forgotten what laughter tasted like.
you flip your phone shut, and slide it onto your desk. sink into your comforter. right foot first, then left. sleep seeps into you near instantly and you try not to flinch away, feeling its cold fingers slide down your eyelids. it stills you like death, every night like a ritual.
drowsiness renders you helpless. it helps.
you dream of your mother and her cradling hands—of big things, of running away, of flying.
₊⊹
the eight a.m. peak hours aren't even the worst it gets, and still you only manage to sink into another six seat booth, in the aisle space next to an elderly lady who gives you a weary look before shifting so your legs don’t touch, and returning to her mobile game.
her high score is shit when you steal a peek over, and you immediately feel a bit better.
flipping your bag, brown leather and well-loved, you tuck a hand inside and pull out your phone. eyes flickering across the screen, lifting to check the time—
there she is.
the words leap from you before you can catch them and smooth out the wrinkles,
oh—.
you!
it paints itself like a holy declaration, bright and a bit too loud. your seat mates and those across the aisle, as well as the woman who fills your chest up when her eyes lift over her lens to meet yours, all shift in unison. the world, the blue sky, all rushes out, all crashes back in.
the conductor enters the car with a woosh and clatter behind you, calls out reminding the lot of you to have all tickets ready, and you ignore it. to your every elation she does too.
not quite a smile, but something catches her lip a little, and a huff sounds through her nose.
“hey, you. long time no see.”
₊⊹
her name is sevika, and your schedules align more than is normal.
each time it's the same train car, the fifth one from the back—and if you can’t make it you just jump train cars until you spot her dark, fluffy hair from over the seats. she has the same book cracked open each time you wrestle into the booth.
her greetings tend to not be greetings. she peers at you and receives whatever it is you’ve brought to her to chat about. sometimes it’s more pet peeves, other times it book recommendations, and she begs you to slow down with those, or a video that had made you laugh so hard you spit that she watches blankly and tells you she doesn’t get it. you’d gotten her only once, though, caught her lip flicker, pull to a smirk—your own breath locks and then you pocket it for later. only the political memes make her crack.
her outfits change erratically, too, and you think the first day must have been a fluke. you ask her how she does it so early in the morning, all the belts and straps and buckles, and then kick her when she says with a small grin that she’s got a lot of practice.
she nods in greeting, once, when you come to fit in the spot before her. her legs are always spread out wide and yours tuck together, inbetween.
it’s all you spend the weekends doing, now, gathering what to take with you to monday. you’re forgetting the bottles on the counter. you’re forgetting to tell your father to turn off the T.V.. the world moves in slow motion, everything moves in slow motion. even your dreams sludge through your sleep like a child running through snow.
some horrific mornings every seat in the booth is already taken.
her gunpowder eyes will occasionally flit over to where you sit a row down, mirth brimming inside at your cross expression and your crossed legs. some days you bring two cups of coffee. and she surprises you—she enjoys hers sweet. she takes it bitter the first time, feeling sorry to force you to drink it, and you watch her stain your thermal jug with dark lipstick over the rim of your drink.
you both fall together like rainfall in june. your legs are forgetting what it feels like to be rid of oxygen, to burn and repair in order to burn. your muscles don’t ache when you sit, sevika makes sure. asks if there’s enough room for you. spreads out like open arms.
her progress in the book is slow. and you learn that she’s sort of cute when she gets defensive.
her cheeks puff out and her brow creases and you wish you could tip forward and sink into her and disappear inside it. she tells you she’s really busy, you know, and her time on the commute is really the only time she gets to herself where she isn’t sleeping.
sevika pauses then. looks at you thoughtfully.
“well. not so much anymore,” she says. “i guess now there’s you.”
but the next morning you do see her, she’s a bit further in than she would be at her usual pace—and you scoff, and then laugh, and she leans back and sighs. but watches, softly, as your giggles peel you apart.
₊⊹
for a few days you don’t see her.
you embarrass yourself by walking through every train car, eyes threading over the seat, legs sludging past briefcases and elbows. you know she won’t be in any of them if it isn’t the fifth car and you check anyway. and are proven right.
the remainder of the day is a bit dimmer. you try not to overdo it, you don’t know her, no matter how much you enjoy the chats you share. she doesn’t owe you anything, much less any fore notice of when she might be absent.
she might just be sick or taking a day off. or maybe your eagerness scared her away. or maybe something had happened to her and the universe decided you’d enjoyed enough hope for a lifetime and she was taken from you, too.
your dad doesn’t respond that night, when you greet him—and you nearly crumble right there.
you hold your breath as you shuffle over, your sandals light on the floor boards. coast a hand under his nose, and still the blood pumping in your veins.
his breath whistles against your thumb.
you let your arm fall back down to your thigh. stare fiercely down at him from where he’s curled into himself. smaller than you ever remember.
mother would ask you to save him were she still here, because that’s the kind of person she was. and it wouldn’t be a request, it would be your duty. she’d drape it around you like a badge, let go, and watch the weight of the metal pin you to the earth.
his death means your death. and maybe that shouldn’t be it—maybe you should simply love him, and let that be reason enough.
and your mother, she wouldn’t forgive you for failing. but she would understand.
you draw away. click off the T.V., set down the remote in his palm, and then turn on your heel.
₊⊹
sevika is there the next morning.
this time her eyes catch yours first, already staring before you find her.
you stall momentarily, caught like a deer. the passenger behind you steps on your heel and you both mutter half hearted apologies as you slide towards the booth.
it’s hard and inconvenient to get around the other passengers but you shuffle over them despite their evident discontent. you aren’t paying attention to them. sevika takes your arm and helps you over—her grip warms you from the point of contact, inching outward and webbing down your insides.
her eyes are careful and steady on yours the whole way down, and your bare legs scrape her thigh. she closes them briefly to make space for you.
as you get comfortable—adjust—she lifts the book from her lap.
“i got up to the part where her friend haunts her,” she says in greeting.
“they weren’t friends,” you return. “they were something worse.”
sevika shakes her head—her mouth quirks. “no,” she disagrees. “they were friends. sometimes there’s nothing worse.”
you could think of many worse things, but none of them find you right now. the image of her toothy smile is lodged in your chest like stone, a dull ache. summer glances off her face, when the train emerges from under the tunnel.
she’s all at once and all of a sudden too much. you want to turn and flee in the opposite direction. you want to lower yourself between her jaw and pull her mouth closed around you, let the fangs sink into your skin, like a cheetah licking the meat off a gazelle.
everything falls away. guilt sucks its teeth. you won’t flee, and you know you won’t. no one with this feeling fluttering in their chest and ramming against their ribcage can let death wrap its cold fingers around their arm and remain still.
you know you are forgetting your mother’s face, and your father will wither away and you won’t follow behind him—because you have something else to chase, now, and it’s living and breathing and smiling at you.
truthfully, the thought shudders through you. you’re even losing what her laughter sounded like. her voice when she’d tell you, silly girl. the place you’ll call home is waiting for you to make it. what’s there to fear?
her cradling hands inside your dreams, when she’d grip your wrist and then your face and tell you, the door is always open. go.
sevika is terrible at hiding it, and she tries—but you think she’d missed you too.
she had called the protagonist an idiot but she’s no better, you can see it in the way she stares at you as if to take you inside her mouth. how she tracks your every movement. watches the very saliva slide down your throat.
you think you could make a home out of wherever she’s heading.
you let your legs eagle out. her gaze lingers on the place where your naked knees press into her thighs. your skirt rustles but you don’t mind what she sees. if anything, you welcome her heady gaze, and the hot coals it rakes over your body.
“thought i’d lost our little book club,” you say. it’s so uncasual it trembles in the air between you two.
her dark rimmed glasses slip just a bit down her nose, and she shifts them. keeps her eyes on you.
“is that what this is?”
the question stretches wider than just the book in her lap.
the conductor calls out the transfer at jamaica—you’re meant to stretch out of your seat. sevika watches you cross your legs, watches the new passengers stream in, crowd and fill in the empty space.
a few stragglers jog down the stairs, legs reaching past every other stair. the doors close mercilessly, passing like time. their frustration or disappointment passes across your chest as if it were yours, the familiar, intrusive ache of sympathy. but their story isn’t yours.
sevika closes the book around her fingers.
“i know today’s your day off.”
sevika leans forward, onto her elbow. “and you came to find me anyway?”
“who knew you’d be here? you must really love the morning commute.”
her mouth pulls for a drawn out moment. she tells you she has a second job back on the island, that she would’ve had to commute anyway to come back home—but you interrupt her. because not at this hour.
you know when her second job ends because she told you her schedule back to front when you’d asked about it. offered details about her day-to-to with one pretty smile from you, ran you up and down her routine with her voice calm as the shifting sea. despite accusing you of eventually revealing yourself to be a hitman or something else ridiculous she’d relinquished anyway, admitting well, it’d be a sweet way to die.
you would’ve kissed her then, if you were smart enough.
“you end far too early.” you tell her now. stare, and she stares back. “you should’ve been back hours ago.”
“this is my routine, sweetheart.”
“i’m your routine.” your leg bounces, scrapes and traces hers on its journey. her eyes are damp in the sunlight, kerosene drenched, and they speckle sunspots onto your skin with her intensity.
you wonder if she’ll refuse you.
wonder what you’ll do then, what the train ride back will look like. how you’ll open the text you send your boss. how curt he’ll be with the one he sends back.
but then—inside her incriminating, drawn out silence—you think that maybe she needs direction just as much as you need chaos.
“alright,” she relents. her voice is quiet but her hands aren’t. they flatten along your knee, thumb tracing up and down. fingers nipping just under your skirt, resting there, warming. “but don’t start whining at me when you lose that dream job of yours.”
“i don’t whine.”
sevika retracts and leans back into her seat, as the train rushes forward and thrusts itself into darkness, rumbling underground. the station is four minutes away now, and the conductor’s voice crackles over the speaker.
“we’ll see.”
₊⊹
you’re the compass that points eastward.
sevika stabilizes you with a heavy hand on your waist, but she doesn’t anchor you down to the earth. you float as her heavy boots thud along the cement behind you. moves you out of the way of pedestrians, steps in front when a biker whizzes past.
it’s her apartment you’re both headed to but you’re the one leading.
but her presence weighs, and the velvet of her voice keeps you holding hands with gravity. you tell her your story, and she tells you hers.
she’s a senior consultant, and it’s a demanding job. what she says is that it can be draining. what she means is that she gets paid by big boss men and CEO’s to have someone to blame when things go to shit.
her overnight job is easier on her sore skin. she mans a gas station, and spends the shift exchanging stories with the regulars and insomniacs, and chasing away creeps that come to bother her girls.
got yourself a little community, you say, squeezing her knee, and the comment makes her pause. you watch a few things flit across her face, before she grunts, and settles on one.
…i guess i do.
on the subway her hand rests on your thigh, massaging the flesh near imperceptibly. your legs are crossed and you squeeze after squirming too long—she feels you grinding into the rolling, loose coil of pleasure from the shuddering train and she tuts you under your breath. you nearly lose your common sense, a shaky breath escaping thinly through your nose.
you don’t have to ask why she doesn’t let go of you.
you’ve seen it, anyway—she was always fidgeting, shifting her weight, wrapping fingers around a page, an unlit cigarette, or around your thigh as it bounced anxiously, over and over against her knee.
and in the dark of her apartment in the three hour layover between her different shifts, instead of a book it’s a sparkly rocks glass, or an untouched bottle. the place is neat otherwise, almost clinically clean—empty as if she weren’t it’s habitant. as if no one were.
the drinks, she doesn’t consume them. they sit there, just in case. an assembly that doesn’t speak and company that cannot warm.
you survey it wordlessly and she watches you without offering any explanation or defense.
she takes your silence a way you hadn’t meant it—stoops and begins shuffling things around, but you stop her with a hand on her arm, tugging her back up to her full height.
“there’s time for that,” you say, “later. we have so much time.”
her face flickers—tightens.
there are no tears, no emotional eruption, nothing so melodramatic. but she gathers you into her with the force of an ocean that swallows with a hungry mouth. she tastes how she looks. she moves like something inside is dying, being replaced or beckoned out by something newer, some new life she can only find on your tongue.
you give her everything you’ve got.
it’s not much. you aren’t an answer—you’re empty as a tin can most days. if she minds you can’t tell—she sucks in a breath when you stand naked before her, dripping and squeezing your thighs together.
“come here, sweetheart,” she beckons you closer, patting her thighs.
you’re guided onto her lap by a rough hand, one that squeezes and kneads but doesn’t go searching.
“spread for me.”
you whine lowly. she’s clothed still and her eyes are glued to you and it’s rustling at the sediment in your stomach, the fabric of her pants delicious on your cunt.
she taps your thighs, voice lowering, “spread your legs, baby.”
slowly, you let your knees fall wayside, and the scent of your arousal washes forward immediately. she nudges you backwards, lowering you until your back thumps onto the bed. your hips are peaked in the air towards here, dripping cunt open wide for her to see, and you exhale shakily at the new angle, embarrassment crawling over your skin.
sevika stares, slow and methodical, eyes touching every crease and corner of you as you start squirm under the heat of it, begging her to do something, before your throat caves into itself.
“so restless, baby,” she says, a small smile crawling its way on her face.
you feel like cursing, like clawing at her to move. you don’t realize you’re rolling into nothing until she rests hands on your hips and guides the movement, fingers pressing dents into your skin.
the humiliation couldn't get worse, and your pride withers as you mumble, “are you going to touch me or what?”
“i can’t savor the view?”
“sevika,” you lament, and when she laughs you feel her stomach jump against your thighs. you suck in a breath, wet with want or something bigger, you aren’t sure and won’t reach out for it. it’s enough having her this close. she’s warm every place her skin makes contact with you, the cool surface of her prosthetic fingers rooting you back to earth with every squeeze.
she doesn’t tease for long. her thumbs extends and presses down on you, and all your breath gets trapped in your throat. she rubs your clit softly, tracing little circles, matching the whimpers you make with low hums of her own. you hips lift and roll against her touch, arching off her lap.
“feel good?” she coos. “when i rub your clit like this?”
you try to tell her you need more, but her maddening pace is making your brain muddy and your words slurred and nonsensical. but she’s never needed much from you in order to understand.
sevika’s fingers dips to find where you’re most promising, wet and writhing as she taunts the worst of yourself out of you.
she sinks inside and carves out the cave of your cunt, curling her fingers until your hips arch off her lap. she takes the invitation and readjusts, shifting until she’s supporting your hips in the air, and tucks her face into your thighs. bites and nips and searches the skin, leaves behind proof of herself in little tugs of teeth and wet kisses—and she’ll find nothing inside but your climbing greed, humping her mouth and whining sinfully, begging her to take you for all you’re worth.
she drinks, feverishly. as if your greed were the best thing she’s ever placed on her tongue.
sevika groans inside you, kisses and laps your cunt sweetly. your hand finds her hair, sinking your fingers inside. you tug harshly as her tongue begins to work faster and she makes a low, rough noise in response. her name warbles off your mouth, rolling your hips up off the bed to meet her. her tongue flickers back and forth and up and down, sinking and sucking. your begging begins to sound more like babbling, and her hand comes to rest on your stomach as she drags your body in closer.
you’ve lost comprehension—your mind is hazy and you’re slipping, reaching out for something, just on the horizon.
your thighs clamp around her head when your orgasm whispers against you, swelling tightly—
she murmurs into you, there you go, baby, give it to me, and that completes your search. with her tongue she presses you back into yourself, and you wail outwards as the crash overtakes you, seizes your body and squeezes till you’re shaking and shuddering.
you collapse. your limbs are jelly, twitching at her touch—
and she hasn't pulled away. your body cringes away from her tongue, still gently kissing and rolling your clit.
“sevika, wait,” you pant, as discomfort and pleasure swirl together. “too sensitive.”
“sevika, it’s too…” your head tips back, rolling into her mouth again. she supports your hips with her arms wrapped underneath—rises to peer up at you, the beginnings of a shit-eating grin flitting at the corners of her mouth.
“hmm?” she asks, a question she already has the answer to, as your glistening cunt reaches towards her.
“no, dont—don’t stop.”
“thought it was too sensitive?”
“sev, fuck,” you reach down, leafing fingers through her hair, guiding her back down, “please.”
her lips curl against you—a private smile, just for the two of you, and it guides the pleasure back as she sinks inside.
she takes until you’ve got nothing left to offer. your body is heavy and spent, and when you kiss her and cup her face in your hands she holds your wrist, tender, soothing your back with her thumb.
wrestling her clothes off takes little convincing and a little laughter, and you reach down and let your fingers play at her pants zipper, slip your hand beneath as she watches you, lids low. her brows pull and she intakes a breath when your fingers brush her fuzzy lips, spreading to feel the pool that’s amounted there.
you glide your fingers along her. she just barely ruts forward into your hand, eyes disastrous, grip on your waist tight. “you’re this wet just from getting me off?”
sevika makes a small, breathy noise, and her voice comes out tainted. “what can i say. the sounds you make are something else.”
“‘cause you make me feel good,” you murmur, slipping a finger inside. her eyes flutter shut, lips pressing together, before parting to pant.
“that right?”
“don’t swallow it,” you say, watching her face contort when you pick up your pace, when you slip in another finger. “you sound beautiful. can i hear you, too?”
₊⊹
you pick sevika’s glasses up from her bedside, and push them onto her nose. she asks if you have work tomorrow—promises to walk you there, and you wave her off.
butterscotch invades your senses when you rest your cheek on her chest. it’s all over you, too, she’d scrubbed you down and warned you that you’d smell like it for maybe the next three days. you couldn’t imagine a better predicament if you tried.
“i want to be haunted,” you push the words into the quiet, when her breathing has evened out to a near stalemate. she shifts, the only indication she gives that she’s listening. “i want to tell all the people i’ve ever loved that i hope they haunt me. but i waited too long. they won’t know that i wouldn’t mind.”
“i think they know,” sevika turns her head to peer at you. “you should hear yourself. i think they’re doing a fine job.”
“do you enjoy it? being haunted?”
she’s quiet. her brows lower, she works her mouth.
“sometimes,” she admits, quiet so as to not disturb the unretrievable. “when it gets bad enough it’s like they never left.”
you tip onto your stomach, sprawled across her. reach over and spread her fingers out, slide forward the length of your hand until they seal together. the angle is awkward but the effort is earnest. she’s warm, like a living thing. it’s all that matters.
when her eyes glance upon you, shiny gloss in the dark, you don’t think you’d mind being a compass.
you tug, and point eastward, outside the bedroom. leaving is the first step.
“come.”
the door is always open. go.
“come. let’s go clean up your ghosts.”
you plant your feet on the cold hardwood, right first, shiver against it, resist retreat; and then settle the left. push off the bed, and trust sevika is following behind.
Sevika headcanons please? Romantic & sexual, when she has crush etc? Pretty pleaseeee?
— sevika being a lovesick puppy for you
synopsis: sevika doesn’t understand why she can’t seem to act normally around silco’s new hire. she’s never had a problem letting anybody know what she thinks about them, but you? you were different. and it was driving her insane.
note: my first req 🥹 so sorry if this was sloppy I did it last minute but I was just excited to write this for you. I hope you like it and thank you for sending this in!
𖥔 sevika wouldn’t consider herself a shy romantic. she isn’t the type to stutter when she sees a person she likes and she definitely has no problem walking up to people she finds attractive and asking them out. when she wants something, she goes for it.
𖥔 that’s why she was baffled when she met you. you were silco’s new hire and when he informed sevika about you saying you were his new informant and that you’d be joining her in missions, she didn’t think much of it.
𖥔 what she didn’t expect was her becoming so smitten by you that she avoided talking to you for the first couple of weeks. there was just something about you and the way you walked into a room and her eyes immediately gravitated towards you but she just couldn’t seem to muster the courage to introduce herself.
𖥔 you assumed she was either just guarded or that she didn’t like you. you tried not to take it personally but you had to admit it was torture because you found the older woman incredibly interesting and wanted to strike up a conversation with her.
𖥔 but it seems like whenever she sees you she refuses to acknowledge your presence. walking past you, answering your work related questions with either a hum or a nonchalant ‘yes’ or ‘no’
𖥔 what you didn’t know is that sevika was losing her mind because she’s never acted this way around anybody.
𖥔 perhaps it was your innocent and warm personality that made her hesitant to talk to you, because you were so different from her and everybody else that worked for silco. you didn’t seem like you fit here but you always got the job done when asked and that just flustered her even more.
𖥔 not to mention, you’re hot. so fucking hot especially when you’d walk around in those tight fitted shorts you always wore that showed off your legs and thighs that made her mouth go dry every single time.
𖥔 sometimes you’d do things by accident that would make her brain go haywire. whether it was leaning against the bar talking to thieram and you’d arch your back enough for your ass to poke out. how you’d fold your arms together and it’d cause your tits to be pushed together. how every time you’d talk to someone, you have this habit of tilting your head and biting your lower lip and she’d have to restrain yourself from biting her entire fist.
𖥔 don’t even get her started on the way you say her name, your voice all sultry and sweet “sevika? are you ready to go?” she always ends up giving you a nod because she knew if she responded verbally she’d be a spluttering mess.
𖥔 she didn’t want to come across as a bitch but she knew it was likely looking that way, but she just didn’t know how to act around you. it was frustrating.
𖥔 eventually though, you’ve had enough and asked her about it “sevika? can I have a word with you?”
𖥔 she was backed into a corner and she tried so hard not to sound like an idiot “what for?” she asked, hoping you didn’t notice the panic in her tone.
𖥔 you sighed, looking down on your feet “I just wanted to ask if we’re good? I’ve been working here for almost a month now and I know it’s probably not that serious but I just can’t let it slide how you talk to everyone here but me. if I did something wrong that made you dislike me please just-“
𖥔 “what? no!” she exclaimed which surprised you “I mean… fuck. I don’t hate you, princess. you’ve done nothing wrong and you’re…” basically fucking perfect is what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself “you’re good. you’re more than good but I just have a hard time with new hires, it doesn’t help that you’re younger.”
𖥔 “well, that’s silly. you know you can talk to me, I won’t bite.” the implications of your words made her gulp “how about you come to my place this saturday and I cook you lunch? please? I really want to get to know you.”
𖥔 trying to talk to you while there was so many people around was already a struggle, imagine being left alone with you “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
𖥔 “please?” and there it is again, that tone you always use that makes her fucking melt “I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
𖥔 the next thing sevika knew, it was saturday and she was in front of your door wondering whether or not her decision to come to your place was a great idea.
𖥔 truth be told, you had every right to feel hurt about sevika’s ambivalence towards you, but usually people would just let it slide because they were scared of her. you though?
𖥔 “sevika, hi!” you said as you greeted her at your door “I was wondering when you’d show.”
𖥔 she offered an awkward smile “yeah well, I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
𖥔 what she came to realize as soon as she arrived however, both to her pleasure and horror, was that you were good company to have around. which she hated. it was enough that she was not only attracted to you physically but the fact she was smitten by your personality as well made her want to pull her hair out. you could talk for hours and she’d listen to every single word.
𖥔 “I’m really glad we cleared the air because I was scared that I did something wrong for you to ignore me,” you said with a sheepish smile as you ate lunch with her “for a moment, I thought I was being a show off which might’ve annoyed you…”
𖥔 sevika immediately shook her head “no, that’s not… don’t ever think that.” you blinked up at her, as if to coax her into saying what really was the reason why she avoided you like the plague.
𖥔 and she thought since she’s here and there’s no point in acting like a sappy teenager at her grown age, she might as well come clean “I just find you attractive is all, princess. you came in and you had this sparkle about you and I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m used to being surrounded with old men at work so seeing you - young, bright and full of potential… I didn’t know how to make of it.”
𖥔 you were stunned for a second, your mouth agape “sev…” you bit your lip as you look down on your plate “well… if it’s any consolation I must say the feelings are mutual.”
𖥔 sevika’s eyes widened so much she swore they almost popped out.
𖥔 “what?” she asked as you nodded.
𖥔 “yeah, you’re so experienced and good at your job and silco trusts you so much. that’s why it was a big deal that you liked me or not because the truth is, out of everyone at work, I crave your validation the most.”
𖥔 her throat bobbed at your confession, an unmistakable heat pooling at her insides “yeah?” she said hoarsely.
𖥔 you smiled “I mean, of course, take it as you will. but I just wanted to let you know.”
𖥔 sevika swore she wasn’t going to cave into the allure of your words, of what they suggested, you were the new hire and it’d be so unprofessional of her to make a move on you. she kept that in mind even as you both finished lunch and she was about to walk out your apartment and leave…
𖥔 that’s why she doesn’t understand how she got here, stomach flat on the bed with your thighs trembling on both sides of her head as she licked a fat stripe off your leaking pussy. looking up at you with needy eyes and you stared back at her, a sly grin on your face.
𖥔 “oh sevi…” you moaned “and here I thought you hated me.”
synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing
pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader
warnings: cheating, dom!sev, sub!reader, inexperienced reader (with women), size kink, light domestic kink, cum kink, tribbing, cunniligus, fingering, PRAISE, pet names, finger sucking, aggressive husband, he threatens to shoot Sevika, drinking/r gets drunk, m/f sex mentioned very briefly, r has long enough hair to braid
a/n: hi! I don't condone cheating. this is only part one, there'll be several parts ;)
wc: 6.5k
The air was thick in the outskirts of the city on Saturday morning. You rose with the sun, ready for a long day of moving, especially without your husband. This was a rushed decision, moving into this house together. You believed that the house was too large, no single couples needed three bedrooms, but your husband insisted that it would be perfect when you two chose to begin a family in future. And, well, you listened to him. He was good at talking you into things you didn’t want to do.
The house bared down on you when you arrived hours later. The porch was long, stretching around the corners of the house, large double-doors beckoning to be opened. The jagged edge of the key in your hand dug into your palm the longer you looked at the home, and you decided to suck it up and go in.
Walking in, you were greeted by a large kitchen with expansive glass windows that looked over the fields that came with the house. It was truly a gorgeous house, you were simply unsure if it was the place for you. But it was too late, the house was already yours, and the keys jingled as you sat them on the counter top.
The moving trucks would arrive soon, but you allowed yourself a moment to breathe as you walked throughout the house, peaking in each room. The largest bedroom had windows that mimicked those in the kitchen, and against your best hopes, your husband had been right. The other bedrooms would make good nurseries. For now, one would be an office and the other would be a guest bedroom. But you could envision your future.
There was a loud whistle from outside, indicating that at least one of the trucks had arrived. You released a sigh and traveled back downstairs, opening the doors with a whoosh of warm air. A mover hopped out of the large truck and came over to greet you, shaking your hand and explaining what was going to happen.
As the movers began bringing things into the house, you observed the outside. Across the street was the only close house, which sat on miles of land just as your new home did. The other house was different, though. It had miles of fencing, caging in horses and sheep, and if you squinted, you swore you could see cows in a small barn far down on the edges of the land.
Because the movers didn’t need you yet, you decided to venture across the street and meet the new neighbors. You didn’t look your best, as you were dressed to move, and you didn’t have anything to give them when you greeted them, but it didn’t matter. You could always invite the family over for dinner in the future.
There was a pair of brown, ratty cowboy boots resting against one of the steps, which made sense for the area. You were against moving south, you didn’t enjoy the heat and you had never ridden a horse before, but your husband insisted. The boots were lined with what looked like generations worth of mud, caked into every crevice and line.
You knocked on the door, waiting a moment before it opened. What you weren’t expecting was to be met with the sternum of a woman in front of you. It took you a moment to look up, and up, and up, before you met her eyes. She had a sullen expression on her face, as if you had just ruined her entire day. You tried not to think much of it, and you barely could with the attractive nature of the woman.
It was just her height that made her large - no, the woman had muscle packed onto her more than anyone you believed to have seen in your life. She was in a white shirt and jeans that hugged her muscular thighs so tightly you worried the seam would rip. Her eyes were grey, and they contrasted against her darker skin. Her hair was short, pulled away from her face and her lips were downturned as she looked at you.
“Hi,” you chirped nervously. “I just moved in across the street, I figured I would come introduce myself,” you gave her your name, a dark blush of embarrassment gracing your cheeks. “You have a lovely home.” The woman’s lips quirked into a side smirk, and your face grew hotter.
“Sevika,” her hand reached out between you, and there was a beat between you before you realized that she was offering her hand to shake. You cleared your throat, enveloping her palm in your own. Her hand practically swallowed yours. “Seems like a pretty big house for one little lady, sugar.” She joked, glancing over at the house as she leaned her weight against the door frame.
“Oh, no, it’s my husband and I. He’s away with business until late tonight, so I’m moving what I can.” A disapproving look smeared against her face.
“He left you alone?” You nodded slowly, unsure of what she was getting to. She looked over her shoulder, as if to check if anything or anyone was in her house. “If you’d like some help, I ain't got any plans ‘til the evening.” Your heart lept in your chest. Everything about your body’s reaction felt wrong. You could’ve begged this woman for help.
“That would be lovely, actually.” You smiled, trying not to seem as nervous as you felt. Your heart was thumping loudly, you swore you were about to faint. Maybe it was from the heat, women never made you feel this way in the past.
“Let me get myself cleaned up and I'll meet you over there, darlin’.” Her accent was thick. You were going to die. You nodded, smiling, and turned back in the direction of your house. At least you wouldn't have to move alone.
-
Before you knew it, the clock was striking five, and the majority of your furniture had been moved where it needed to go. Sevika did all of it - most of the time you just stood there looking pretty and instructing her where to go. Sevika thoroughly enjoyed it. She noticed the gentle bite of your lip when she lifted something heavy, your eyes tracing down the lines of her arms. You hadn't initially noticed the prosthetic in place of where her left arm should be, but it only made her that much more interesting.
For lunch you made sandwiches and lemonade, forcing her to sit and take a break instead of continuing to work for you. “Y’r just sweet as cane, ain'tcha?” she had said, taking the plate of food. You chose to ignore the rush in your panties.
You both stood in the kitchen and Sevika was breathing heavily, catching her breath after moving a series of dining chairs into your new dining room for you. You came to her, gently tracing your fingertips over her bicep as you pushed up on your toes and kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much, Sevika. I greatly appreciate it,” you said with a soft smile, “and you’re so strong.” You squeezed her arm, taking in a sharp breath at how hard the muscle actually was.
“You’re very welcome, darlin’.” When she smiled, you noticed a gap in her teeth that you hadn’t seen before. It fit her face perfectly.
“Will you let me make you dinner for your trouble?” You turned around, reaching for the single cookbook that you had bothered unpacking, resting on the counter.
“You’ve worked far too hard to be bothered with cookin’ tonight, pretty girl. Why don’t you join me? I’m going to dinner with some friends. You’ll enjoy ‘em.” You pondered for a moment, but the answer was clear. You hadn’t actually wanted to cook, but you would’ve done anything she asked.
“That would be nice. How’s six sound? I should probably clean up.” You gestured down your body at your sweaty clothes. You could already picture what you were going to wear - there was a sundress in a box in your bedroom, maybe you could track down the pair of cowboy boots you wore to a concert once.
“Sounds good, sugarplum. Wear somethin’ pretty for me, yeah?” Heat rose from your chest and crept up your neck, finding home on your cheeks. Sevika didn’t fail to notice, she adored it. No matter what she said to you, you were blushing and stuttering.
You found yourself on Sevika’s front porch at six round, inevitably in the outfit you were thinking of earlier. Your hair was in a loose braid, with a bow at the end, and you believed that you looked cute, but it could be better. Nothing compared to the way Sevika looked at you when you knocked, though.
She was in the same thing she was already wearing, except with a jacket thrown over her white tee, a cowboy hat, and some matching boots. God, you could eat her up. “Did as told, I see.” She nodded towards you, hat dipping with her head. “We’re going to the best bar in town, you ain't got nothin’ to worry about.” She walked out of the house, locking the door behind her and leading you to her car.
“So, Sevika,” you began, once you were settled into your passenger seat. “Do you live alone?” you had wondered, since she gave up her day to assist you and offered to bring you to dinner.
“Yes ma'am,” she responded, small grin painting her face. “Got some livestock ‘nd a dog. ‘s all I need.” You nodded.
“Have you ever been married?” She didn't seem like the type to enjoy marriage, and she wore no ring. Maybe you just couldn't imagine her in a traditional marriage - what kind of man would a woman like her even be interested in?
She chuckled. “Nah, holdin’ out for the right one.” you smiled. Sometimes you wondered if you held out for the right one. You loved your husband, but your love often felt fabricated. Like you had to love him, like a requirement.
She pulled up to the bar, it was a ragly old place, with a crooked sign and some wood falling off, but it was pretty. It read, plainly, The Last Drop, and you wondered where the name came from, or how she came to find this place in the middle of nowhere.
She ushered you in with a large, warm hand on the small of your back, gently directing you towards a table full of people. They already had drinks, and you feared that somehow you made the woman late.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Sevy.” A woman quipped. She wasn't like anything you'd seen before - tall, long blue hair, and tattoos. She was gorgeous, quite a sight. “Who's your lady friend?” The woman looked over at you and winked with a smirk.
“Watch it, Jinx,” she retorted, taking a seat next to a woman with pink hair, and you took the one next to her. She introduced you to the group, and a small blush crept up your cheeks. In order, she introduced everyone around the table. “Jinx and I worked for the same guy a couple years back. He passed, but she still hangs around,” Jinx shot her a look and took a sip of her drink. “Ekko, her husband. Caitlyn and Vi, they're married.” You greeted each of them.
Being with Sevika was something you had never imagined possible. She ordered and paid for your meal and your drinks, and let you get as many as you wanted. You didn't exactly feel like you fit in with her crowd of people, they were a little rowdy and loud, but the company was enjoyable.
It was late when the first couple left - Jinx and Ekko, to go relieve their babysitter. Caitlyn and Vi left soon after, no particular reason. It left you a Sevika, and when she began talking to you, the amount of alcohol in your system finally hit you.
“Sevika,” you slurred, grabbing her arm as you looked up at her, “can I have your hat?”
Her cheeks warmed, dark blush finding home on them. “What’d’ya need my hat for, babygirl?” She chuckled, trying to play off her nervousness. Clearly, you didn't know how hats worked in bars.
“‘s pretty on you,” she was still laughing as she took it off and placed it on your head. And god, you looked good. Thoughts of filth coursed through her mind and she attempted to shut them down, with no luck. You were her married neighbor. She couldn't possibly be thinking of you in the way she was.
“Let's get you home, cowgirl.” She gently grabbed your upper arm, helping you off your stool. When you stumbled, she turned you around, your back facing her front as she grabbed your forearms and helped you walk.
You slumped against her in the car, head resting on her shoulder as sleep drew you in. You didn't get drunk often, but when you did, it always made you tired. Especially after a full day of work.
Your husband's car was in the driveway when you both returned to your neighborhood. Sevika pulled into your new, fancy driveway and quickly came to your side to assist your walk into your house. After a few steps, your husband threw open the front door, anger pouring off of him.
“What the fuck is this?” He yelled at Sevika, who simply looked at him. “What the fuck did you do to my wife?” He ripped you from her arms, making you hunch and your stomach twist. Sevika backed up, hands in the air like she was facing a cop.
“We went out for dinner and she had a couple drinks. I was just bringin’r home.” She insisted. Your husband didn't care - he was livid. In his mind, some woman that he had never seen before got his wife drunk and did god knows what to you.
“Get the fuck off my property and don't fucking come back or I'll shoot you dead.” He spat, dragging you inside. You looked over your shoulder, watching Sevika walk down the driveway, shaking her head. She got in her car and drove home, and that was the last you saw of her.
To your misfortune, you remembered none of what happened the previous night when you awoke. You remembered portions of dinner, some blurry faces, Sevika’s murmured ‘babygirl’, but nothing of the way your husband treated her. And he made no effort to enlighten you as to what happened -
So, for weeks afterward when Sevika avoided you, you had no idea why. You didn’t even know if she was avoiding you on purpose, maybe she was just a busy woman. Maybe the day she spent with you was a one time thing. But, your curiosity brewed every time you saw her at home.
You knew you had too much to drink that night, but you had never taken yourself for a sloppy drunk, or a mean one. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have said or done something vulgar, but it was out of your character. Maybe she simply didn’t enjoy your company as much as you did hers. There were millions of options, millions of reasons as to why no words had been uttered since that day.
You were growing accustomed to your new life. Your husband went to work every day, occasionally went on a business trip, and you tended to the house. It wasn’t ever what you had thought your life would look like, or wanted your life to look like. But it wasn’t bad. It was relaxing, and allowed you freedoms that you didn’t previously have when you both worked and lived in a small city apartment.
And there was the other part. You were learning to tend to the house so that you were ready for when you were to bear children - something that your husband had insisted was coming soon, and therefore had suggested you begin trying. The night he suggested that was the night the pit in your stomach became unbearable. Trying for a baby? With him? You weren’t sure you were ready for that, or frankly wanted that.
It was a sunny, warm morning when you left to get the mail. Dew had settled in the grass, and the southern air was thick. You were in a nightgown, one of your favorites, that was outlined in lace, a nice pale yellow color. You had panties that matched, clung to your skin underneath the short gown.
Before you could turn to go back up the driveway and into the house, you noticed Sevika’s door opening, and there stood the one and only. She was in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a wifepleaser, slippers finishing the outfit nicely.
“Sevika!” You yelled from across the street, a wide smile as you raised a hand to wave. Her head snapped up from her mail, but before she could hide, you were making your way across the street. She wasn’t getting out of this one. “Sevika, hi! I haven’t seen you around, you must be one busy woman.” You joked. She smiled, demeanor softening.
“You could say that,” She responded awkwardly, knowing damn well she was not a busy woman, especially not if you needed something. “Was there anything else? Don’t need your husband gettin’ all pissy again, ma’am.” Your brows knit, confusion drawing itself on your pretty features.
Fuck. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have possibly known. You were so drunk that night that there was no way you remembered what happened, and now Sevika just dropped the bomb. “Whatever do you mean, Sevika?” God, you drew her in, sweet as honey.
“I best get goin’. Gotta feed the chickens.” She had already fed her chickens today, twice because she was so tired.
“No, Sevika. What do you mean? Did he do something to you?” Sevika sighed, throwing a quick glance towards your house to assure that your husband wasn’t home. His car was missing from the driveway, and that was all she needed to know.
“The night you came out with me you drank a lot, could hardly walk by y’rself. Brought ya home and he got angry, threatened to shoot me if I came near you again. ‘m not tryna get shot anytime soon, sweet thing.” Your lips parted, small gasp falling from them. Sevika prayed she never forgot the noise.
“Sev…” you paused, trying to formulate what you wanted to say to her. “I’m so sorry he did that. His temper can get the best of him sometimes, I promise he’s a good man. We don’t own any guns. How can I apologize?” Sevika envisioned a few ways. “How about dinner? Tomorrow? He’ll be out of town for a couple days, he’s taking the train up north. I’ll cook for you?”
Sevika was blushing. Sevika never blushed. “Miss, you ain’t gotta do all that for me.”
“No, you deserve it. You must come. Tomorrow, six, please?” Your eyes softened as you looked up at her, and she would’ve moved mountains to give you what you wanted in that moment. But luckily, it was a lot easier than that.
“If you insist,” she said with a small smile, “I’ll be there, sugar.” You grinned, clapping your hands twice. “I like steak, if you’re willing.” She swore she saw your smile widen.
“Perfect, I have just the recipe. I can’t wait, I’ll see you tomorrow, Sevika!” You said eagerly, as you began walking back to your house, tossing her a wave over your shoulder.
The longer you thought about it, the more the situation angered you. Sevika was doing you a favor, a noble one at that, just to be treated like shit by the person that was supposed to protect you. Everything she said made the idea of having a child with this man less and less appealing. You hardly acknowledged him when he returned home that night, and hardly bid him farewell when he left in the morning. It was tough to look at him.
It was late afternoon when you got the food in the oven and began getting ready. You didn’t know whether this was formal or not, so you chose something in the middle. You chose a simple half up, half down style, bringing the top of your hair into a pretty bun and leaving the rest down to curl. You did your makeup, then went through your closet, trying to find something that matched the appeal you were trying to convey.
Part of you wanted to put on something that your husband would hate; a pair of jeans and a top, or even something casual. But the other half, and the half that won, begged you to dress yourself in something attractive. Something that would draw her in, making her look at you, in the ways your husband never did.
The thought was terrible, obscene even. You had never even begun to think of someone in the way you were thinking of Sevika now, especially while married. It was awful. And then you remembered what he did to her, what he did to you. How he made you move hundreds of miles from your family and quit your job to play house.
You chose a dress that was shorter than anything you believed to have ever dressed yourself in. It hardly covered your ass, and it was slutty. So very slutty, so unlike you. And you liked it. You liked the way it hugged your figure, made your boobs look fuller and your hips wider.
The dress was strapless and white, coming in at the waist and flaring slightly until it ended. You added a white bow to your bun for good measure, and a pair of white kitten heels that opened at the toe. Confidence was a drug, and you were addicted.
The oven rang moments before Sevika knocked, right on time. You took out the food and set it on the counter, tossing your oven mitts to the side to get the door. When you opened it, Sevika drank you in like a tall glass of wine. Her eyes moved along you slowly, as if she was trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. She followed the line of your dress, eyes falling on the over-exposure of your thighs, and they paused there for a moment.
And her mind was running wild.
“Hi Sevika,” you greeted, cheeks warmer than they had ever been. This was terrible, disgusting. And it was going the exact way you wanted it to. “You look nice.” She did. She was in black slacks and a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned, short sleeved button-down thrown overtop. It was cropped just the right amount, ending where her slacks began. It had a gorgeous pattern of red and black and white, and it was as if your minds had thought the same, and here you were matching.
“If I’m nice, you must be world-stopping.” She said, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckle. “The food smells great.” Her eyes were addicting. You simply couldn’t draw yourself away, even after it had been several beats since she spoke.
“Do come in,” you opened the door wider and she stepped in, engulfing the doorframe. “I just need to plate the food and we can eat. Feel free to sit.” She did as told, taking a seat at the small table while you plated the food. You placed her plate in front of her, but she was too busy watching the way you worked and moved around the kitchen to bother looking at the food.
“You didn’t have to do all this, sugar. Seems like a lot of work.” You chuckled.
“It’s truly not. If anything, it’s routine. My husband has me staying home now, tending to the house. I cook a lot. You’re the first person I’ve had over in quite some time.” You took your place, smoothing out your dress. Sevika looked surprised at your remark.
“If I had a woman as pretty as you I would take her everywhere. Show’r off to the world.” Your mouth was agape again. Your husband never said things like that to you. It made your skin warm and your stomach flutter.
Realizing that you had been staring at her for a moment, you averted your gaze, dropping it to your plate in embarrassment. “You’re very nice, Sevika. You know how to talk a woman up.” She grinned, leaning back in her chair and spreading her legs into a, somehow, sexy manspread. You never found the way of seating particularly attractive, but when she did it, you had several thoughts about it. Positive ones. Dirty ones.
“It’s working, then?” Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, she was speaking again. “You should eat, sugar. Food’s gon’ get cold.” She was smirking, and when you looked down at her plate, she was all but finished. You wondered how long you had been entranced by her, if it meant that more than half her food was already gone and you had hardly started.
You ate quickly, almost choking at the rate at which you stuffed your face. She was finished before you, and wasted no time taking her dishes to the sink and beginning to clean them. When you were finished, you shot up, hurrying over to her and gently pushing her to the side. “You’re a guest, you don’t have to clean your own dishes, that’s rude.” You joked, taking her plate from her hands.
“I’m a capable woman, babygirl. I can clean my own plate, I do it every day.” You shooed her hands away as she reached for her plate, until she was grabbing your wrist and pinning you to the counter, human hand holding your wrist while her mechanical arm trapped you against her.
When you looked up at her, your clit started beating. She was looking down at you, low eyes painted with displeasure. “Let me help you, angel. It won’t kill ya.”
The feelings swirling within you were nothing you had ever felt before. Your body was on fire, you were surprised that your wrist wasn’t burning Sevika’s large palm. Her body heat was radiating into you, and you could feel the meat of her thighs against yours, and the curve of her hips as they kissed your own. Your panties were wet, your thighs were sticky, but you were sure it was sweat.
“Sevika…” You whispered, but any additional thoughts were cut off by the harsh press of her lips to yours, the force pushing you against the sink even harder. Your eyes widened for a second, but quickly fluttered closed as your body accepted what was happening and leaned into it. You pushed off the sink, pressing your front against hers. She let go of your wrist and your hands found purchase on her neck, pulling at her short hair.
She moaned softly into your mouth, grabbing your hip with her human hand and pushing your hips against the sink so your back arched a little further, tits pushed against hers. Her lips attacked yours, tongue dipping into your mouth and sucking, pulling noises out of you that you had never heard before.
You pulled away, admiring her flushed face and swollen lips. She was breathing heavily, and the look on her face dropped into terror as she realized what she had done. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.” She backed up, releasing you from your spot against the sink. “Gods,” she rubbed her hands over her face, “I just kissed a married woman in her husband’s home. I should leave.”
“Don’t.” You came to where she was standing, softly grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away from her face. She was scared, looking at you. Scared of what could happen. Scared of how it would be if it didn’t happen.
Slowly, cautiously, you pressed up on your toes and pulled her in for another kiss. And she was lost. Gone, forever. There was no returning from this.
She grabbed your ass, lifting you easily onto the counter as she continued kissing you. Her body was hard and hot and calling you, and the way she dragged her hands up and down your waist, carefully flicking her thumb over your nipple made your panties drenched. “Do that again,” you whined, arching your tits towards her.
“Do what, sugar?” She played coy, letting her hands rest on your waist. “This?” She ran her human hand up your side and flicked her thumb over your nipple again, craving the moan that fell from your lips. “Tell me, sugar, was it this?” She pulled the top of your dress down slowly, giving you time to interject. But you didn’t, and she made quick work of removing your bra.
She left wet, hot kisses down your chest, lips latching around your nipple. She sucked hard, making you cry out and grind your hips in the air. She could’ve made a snarky comment about that, she desperately wanted to, but the way your body reacted to her mouth on your perky nipple was too compelling.
Once she had given both of your tits equal attention, she stood back up and met your eyes. “Y’r gonna have to tell me where this is goin’, baby. ‘m not goin’ any further until you tell me with words.” Your head fell against her chest, panting.
“Please, please fuck me, Sev.” With a soft ‘fuck’, she lifted you off the counter, your legs locking around her hips. She carried you down the hall with your instruction, kicking the door closed and locking it before placing you on the bed, gingerly.
“Let’s get you out of this dress, mama.” She pulled it down, waiting for you to lift your hips so she could finish the job. Before she could admire you, you were grabbing her by her t-shirt and pulling her on top of you, kissing her once again. Nothing in the world was better than this.
“Sevika,” you moaned as her mouth was reunited with your boobs. “Take off your shirt.” She did as instructed, losing her button down and t-shirt in a few short motions. It left her in her slacks and a sports bra, a great look for her. She stood at the end of the bed, and she grabbed your ankle to pull you down with her. Your ass was on the edge of the bed, and your legs were propped up, spread wide.
“Fuck,” she looked over your body, then threw her head back and shut her eyes. This was wrong. It was awful. You’re married. But the way your panties sat high on your hips and had a noticeable wet spot in the middle was enough to waiver her thoughts.
“Sevika,” you said, weakly. “What do we.. do? I’ve never done this with a woman.” She chuckled a little, sinking to her knees at the edge of the bed, so that her face was level with your cunt. You could feel her warm breath against you, and it made you shiver.
“I’m gonna eat your pussy, angel. What happens next is up to you. But I need my face in y’r pussy.” She looked up at you as she painted your thighs with kisses, occasionally stopping to suck on the skin. She was careful, she didn’t leave any marks, but she adored having your skin in her mouth. She adored having you in her mouth.
You weren’t prepared for her first lick against your cunt. She licked a fat strip from bottom to top over your panties, and you reeled, arching into it and bringing your legs together. She placed both of her hands on the insides of your thighs, forcing them apart. “You’re gonna keep these open for me, ain’tcha, sugar?” Weakly, you nodded, relaxing and allowing your legs to fall apart.
She continued eating you over your panties, sucking at your clit until you weren’t sure what was from you and what was her spit, everything was drenched. She sat up, reaching for the waistband of your panties. Instinctively, you lifted your hips, and she smirked as she pulled them down. “Good job, darlin’, knew exactly what I needed.” Your stomach flipped, and you were sure you were dripping.
Sevika was looking at you like you were prey and she hadn’t eaten in a month. Your cunt was glistening, and you were practically dripping onto the bed. And it was all for her. “Well, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, mama.” You whimpered, entrance clenching at her words, and she could fucking see it. See the way your body reacted to her. She could’ve died a happy woman, right then and there.
She was on her knees again in an instant, tongue finding your clit and sucking. She did all sorts of magical things; twisted her tongue around the bud, flicked it with her tongue, sucked like something would come out if she did. You were practically crying at what she did, it was overwhelming.
Your husband had eaten you out before, several times. He claimed to like it, but it was never quite right. It was never like this. Not when Sevika placed a kiss on your clit and slipped her tongue in you, wasting no time fucking you with her tongue. Her mech hand came up and pinched your nipple, the cool metal feeling like heaven against your overheated skin.
“Sevika,” you cried, fingers winding in her hair as her tongue worked. You were getting close, she could tell. Your clit was twitching and you were clenching around her tongue, but she kissed her way back to your clit and pressed a cautionary finger against your entrance. “Sev, fuck, Sevika, please fill me up, please,” Sevika let out a deep moan into your cunt, her own clit begging for attention.
She kept her mech hand on your nipple while she slowly slid her middle finger into you, stretching you more than your husband’s fingers ever did. She took it slow, going knuckle by knuckle until you bottomed out on her finger. She didn’t rush you, letting you adjust to the feeling of her thick digit inside you before moving.
The feeling of her tongue on your clit and her finger against your g-spot had you crying and whining, begging her for more, more, more, until she gave it to you. She introduced another finger into the mix, letting her ring finger enter you at the same pace as the other.
Two fingers and her tongue must be heaven. She knew exactly what to do, and you were absolutely going to cum. Over and over, at that. She lifted up for a moment, not relenting with her pace. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me have it.”
The knot in your stomach released and all the tension in your muscles relaxed, letting your orgasm flow through your body. Your back arched off the bed and you gripped her hair tightly, the waves of pleasure more intense than any you’d felt before. She made sure she had you coming for as long as she could, unrelenting in her pace until she had milked every drop from you.
You were panting, and you let out a practically pornographic whine when she retracted her fingers from you and stood up, leaning over you. “Open y’r mouth, baby. Stick out your pretty tongue.” Her fingers were quick to breach your lips once your mouth was open, and you shut it around them, sucking your cum off her digits.
Her clit hurt. It was beating so hard, and watching you suck her fingers just made her go even more crazy. She pushed your limits, forcing her fingers further down her throat to see how much you could take. And to her surprise, you took them to the base with no problem, and it made her desperate to see her strap down your throat. “That’s my good girl, ain’t it? Suckin’ me so good.” You moaned, but it was muffled around her fingers.
The hat resting on your closet door handle caught her eye, and a malicious idea bloomed in her. “I want you to ride me, angel. Needa’ come on your pussy.” You sat up, watching her as she grabbed her hat from the closet handle. She tossed it to you and unbuckled her pants, pulling them from her body inch by inch until you got to see all of her. Her boxers came off next, and it was such a sight.
She plopped down on the bed, and you looked at her expectantly, waiting for further instruction. Her legs spread, and she lifted one of them to make space between them for you. You made assumptions, hovering between her legs and glancing over at her. “Ride me, cowgirl. Go until you feel good.”
It took some maneuvering for you to find an angle that worked for both you and Sevika, but when it did, it was earth shattering. Her clit against yours felt like you had been blessed by God, and her wetness seeping into yours felt like she could get you pregnant. She was groaning beneath you, humping you like some kind of fucking dog, and it was the best thing ever.
She reached over and grabbed her hat, placing it on your head. “That’s it, that’s my cowgirl, ain’t it? Fuck, you ride me so well, baby.” You came down harsher against her, the feeling too good to be slow or soft.
“Nnghh- vika,” that is what got Sevika over the edge. Hearing you moan that nickname like a fucking pornstar had her gripping your hips and holding you in place as she fucked up into you and came all over you, whimpering like a bitch in heat. A string of curses fell from her pretty lips before she released your hips and let you chase your second orgasm, one that had you falling onto her chest, unable to move from your fucked out muscles.
After a couple minutes she gently brushed your hair away from your face, admiring your beauty. You groaned softly, sitting up on your elbow to meet her eyes. “That was really good.” You said, softly. “What if you stay the night?” Sevika shook her head, crawling out of the bed.
“‘m sorry, sweet thing. I don’t feel right stayin’ here after fuckin’ you. ‘s not fair to y’r husband.” You pouted, remembering his existence, to your misfortune. Sudden emotions flooded you as you watched Sevika dress; you just cheated on your husband, and had sex with a woman. Not just any woman - your neighbor. That you would have to see, every day, for the rest of your time living in this neighborhood.
She pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and you let your eyes flutter shut, you let yourself enjoy it before it was wrong. “Bye, Sevika. I’ll see you at happy hour next week?” She smiled softly, knowing she would do anything and everything in her power to be there for you.
“Absolutely, babygirl.” And with that, she was gone.
hi! here you’ll find a complete catalogue of all my fics/one shots/hcs. I only post on tumblr and ao3, if you find my works anywhere else please tell me/report it. thank you.
prguitarman
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
kianamaiart
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
