i love being a lesbian i love being a femme i love being complimented
hello vonnie
trying on a metaphor

@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz
Misplaced Lens Cap
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
AnasAbdin
Mike Driver
DEAR READER

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JBB: An Artblog!
d e v o n
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JVL

Love Begins
we're not kids anymore.
cherry valley forever

roma★
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ellievsbear
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@sapphiczj
i love being a lesbian i love being a femme i love being complimented
Hi! Just wanted to tell you that I love your writing! The way you write your descriptions, so incredibly rich and vivid.....*chef's kiss*. It's beautiful.
If your requests are open, would you consider writing smut w/ possessive Catherine (or Morticia, whichever you'd like)? Thank you so much for sharing your talent with the world!
𝑨𝒅𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (Morticia x Fem Reader)
morticia addams x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: possessive sex, gentle choking, rough, wall pinning, hair pulling, spanking, fingering, power play, possessive dynamics, praise kink, ownership
for anon :) requested a while ago, but i hope you're here to read it <3
word count: 5k
You knew Morticia was possessive, you just didn’t expect how intoxicating it would feel when someone else looked at you too long.
Read on AO3
𝑨𝒅𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
The house feels different on evenings like this, as though it is holding its breath along with you.
Candlelight pools along the corridor walls, soft and deliberate, bending around dark wood and antique frames without ever daring to be harsh. The scent of roses lingers from the stems she trimmed earlier, green and faintly sweet, layered over something cooler beneath it. Stone. Shadow. Her.
You stand before the mirror fastening your necklace. The clasp resists for a moment before finally giving in with a small click that sounds far too loud in the quiet room.
You look up.
heyyy baby :)) it’s rach pls write more for czj, i don’t care what about it could be like a fall / halloween kinda smut whatever you want. i miss you fics so bad <3
𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 (Catherine Zeta-Jones x Fem Reader)
catherine zeta-jones x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: grinding, tribbing, oral, fingering, dirty talk, power play, multiple orgasms, gentle
for rach! <33
word count: 4k
At a Halloween party shimmering with gold and red, an angel meets her devil. Masks, music, and temptation blur into something hotter than either of them expected. What starts as a dance becomes a challenge, ending in surrender.
Read on AO3
𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔
The mirror reflected a vision of gold and white. Soft, shimmering fabric hugging your curves, a delicate halo perched perfectly atop your hair, and a mask that accentuated your eyes without giving away too much. You twirled once, feeling the sweep of the costume, and smiled. Tonight, you were an angel.
this is fucking delicious i need her
hey, i was the one who sent the ask about morticia, and i'll just claim this emoji 🐈⬛, so you know who it is. :)
i really don't have anything specific in mind. i'm usually a bitch for some hurt/no comfort, but i would absolutely fuck with just plain smut. maybe morticia being eaten out on the kitchen island, or perhaps even the graveyard? do whatever you wish. if you need a scenario, i can think about it and come back to you!
any by the way, "need you now" had me screaming and crying. god, your writing is so good, it has me in a chokehold. keep on slaying on!
🐈⬛
𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅 - (Morticia Addams x Fem Reader)
morticia addams x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: oral, grinding, fingering, praise, degradation, worship, power dynamics, dirty talk, public sex, graveyard sex
for 🐈⬛, hope this is along the lines of what you were thinking! <3
smut, porn without plot, oneshot word count: 2k
A moonlit stroll among the graves becomes something far more decadent when Morticia decides she craves devotion. You kneel, you serve, and soon you’re worshipping her in every way she demands.
Read on AO3 i've been gone for a hot minute! i'm getting back into things ;)
𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅
The cemetery was slivered in moonlight, mist curling low over the stones. Morticia walked with her usual unhurried grace, the hem of her gown whispering over the damp grass, her fingers trailing the tops of headstones as though greeting old friends. You trailed beside her, beneath puffing pale in the chill, every sense sharpened by the nearness of her. The air was heavy with damp earth and roses left to rot, but all you could smell was her perfume. Dark, intoxicating, faintly poisonous.
oh this is delicious
𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍 - (Catherine Zeta-Jones x Fem Reader)
dr. victoria siebert x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: power dynamics, dirty talk, overstimulation, office sex, oral, fingering, dry humping
for @cseynvak <3
smut, porn without plot, oneshot word count: 3k
When you’re left alone with Dr. Victoria Siebert, the poised, commanding psychiatrist whose presence makes your heart race, restraint is impossible. What starts as teasing glances and subtle touches quickly escalates into something far more intense. Read on AO3 can be read as catherine or victoria :)
𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍
The office was unnervingly quiet at this hour. The kind of silence that made the hum of the fluorescent lights sound almost oppressive, buzzing in your skull, refusing to be ignored. You tapped aimlessly at your keyboard, half-finished sentences littering the screen, but nothing was sinking in. Every few seconds, your gaze slid to the clock, or the door, or anywhere that wasn’t the blank report in front of you.
You weren’t restless because of the work. You were restless because of her.
Victoria Siebert.
Even when she wasn’t physically there, she lingered like smoke after a fire. The ghost of her perfume clung to your skin from earlier in the day, heady spice and something darker, more intoxicating, like the kind of scent designed to drag you under. The memory of her voice was smooth and deliberate, every word an incision that cut through you like a live current.
So when the sharp echo of heels clicked down the hall, your pulse instantly betrayed you. Fast, shallow, impossible to ignore.
She appeared in the doorway, framed by the harsh office lighting. Her arms were folded across her chest, her head tilted just enough to signal amusement, and her mouth curved into a smile that wasn’t soft at all. It was the kind of smile that stripped you bare before she’d even spoken.
“You’re still here,” she drawled, her voice a velvet blade. “Tell me—are you actually working, or just hiding from me?”
Heat spread up your throat. You stared at the glowing screen, pretending to type, fingers twitching against the keys. The movement gave you away, of course. She noticed everything.
Her laugh was soft, low, mocking. She pushed off the doorway and crossed the room, each step slow and deliberate, the sound of her heels filling the silence until it seemed like the whole office was echoing with her. By the time she reached you, her perfume was inescapable, wrapping around you until every breath was hers.
Her hand grazed your shoulder as she passed, just a brush of her fingers, but your entire body jerked at the touch.
“You’ve been at this desk all day,” she murmured, her voice sliding over your skin like silk and steel at once. She circled behind you, the sound of her heels punctuating the silence. “And yet…” She trailed off, her tone amused, as if she’d already read every thought in your head. “You’re squirming.”
When she returned to your side, she didn’t stand. She perched on the edge of your desk, as though it belonged to her, as though you belonged to her. Her thigh brushed your arm lightly, the friction of fabric sparking heat along your skin. Slowly, deliberately, she crossed her legs, her gaze never leaving yours.
“Relax.” Her voice was quiet but sharp, more command than suggestion.
Your muscles betrayed you, stiffening instead of obeying. Her eyes glittered at the reaction. She reached down, her nails grazing lightly along your forearm before sliding down to your hand. The scrape was delicate, almost teasing, but it was enough to make your breath hitch.
“Tense little thing,” she murmured, her words brushing your ear as she leaned closer. “I think I know exactly what you need.”
Her lips grazed your temple, not even planting a kiss, more the ghost of one, before she pulled back. Her fingers curled over the back of your chair and tipped it slowly, guiding you to lean into it, her control subtle but undeniable.
“You’re wound so tight,” she said, nails dragging lightly up your thigh, higher and higher, stopping just shy of where you ached for her. “I can feel it humming in you. All this nervous energy, bottled up. It’s not work that has you restless, is it?”
Your chest rose sharply. You couldn’t answer, not properly, not with her hand so close.
“Pathetic,” she whispered, her smirk slicing through you as her hand withdrew, only to press firmly against your jaw, forcing you to look at her. Her nails bit lightly into your cheek, anchoring you in place. “You can’t even sit in a chair next to me without dripping. Can you?”
Your throat bobbed. “I—”
“No excuses.” The command was sharp, final. “Answer me. Do you like me touching you?”
“Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking.
“Good girl.”
Her hand slid from your jaw to your hip, firm and unrelenting, dragging you forward until your knees parted slightly. Then she shifted, positioning herself closer, pressing the length of her thigh between yours. The fabric of her trousers was smooth but unyielding, firm against your heat.
The first press of contact made you gasp, your hips jerking forward instinctively.
She laughed softly, cruelly. “Already? God, you’re desperate. I’ve barely touched you, and you’re soaking through your panties.”
Her hand gripped your jaw again, forcing your gaze to hers. “Don’t look away from me,” she warned, her tone sharp enough to cut. “I want to see the exact moment you break.”
Her other hand pressed hard into your hip, dragging you down against her thigh, guiding the angle. The pressure was immediate, unbearable, exactly where you needed it most.
“Move.”
The single word detonated in you. Your body obeyed before your mind caught up, hips rolling against her thigh. The friction was devastating. The rough drag of her trousers against your clit through your panties, the steady grip of her hand forcing your pace. You whimpered, clutching at the desk for balance.
“That’s it,” she purred, the mocking lilt still there. “Rub that needy little clit on me. Show me how badly you want it.”
Her grip tightened, slowing your rhythm to a deliberate grind. Each roll of your hips was deeper, slower, maddening. Every dragged-out second pushed you further toward the edge without letting you tumble over.
“Look at you,” she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. “Grinding like a needy slut, soaking me. Do you even hear yourself? All those pathetic little noises. That’s the sound of my control.”
A broken moan slipped from your throat. She smirked.
“Say it,” she demanded. “Say you belong to me.”
“I—I belong to you,” you gasped, your body quivering under her hold.
“Louder.” Her nails bit into your hip.
“I belong to you!”
Her eyes darkened with satisfaction. “Good girl. Keep going. Don’t you dare stop until you’ve made a mess of my clothes.”
Your movements grew frantic, desperate, the rough drag of her thigh sending shockwaves through you. Every second tightened the coil in your stomach until it was unbearable.
“Already shaking?” she taunted. “You’re really going to finish for me just from this? From my thigh?” She chuckled darkly. “Pathetic. You’ll take whatever I give you and beg for more, won’t you?”
“Yes, Victoria,” you choked out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
Her laugh was low, victorious. “That’s it. That’s my good little slut. Now finish. Cum all over me like the needy toy you are.”
The command tore the last of your control away. Your orgasm hit hard, violent, your hips jerking helplessly against her thigh as you cried out. She held you steady, forcing you to grind through every pulse, every spasm, until you were trembling and boneless in her hold.
“That’s it,” she murmured, dragging her nails down your thigh. “So messy. So perfect. All mine.”
You collapsed against her chest, chest heaving, body weak. But she didn’t let go. Her hand slid higher, pressing firmly against the soaked fabric between your legs.
Her smirk was merciless. “You thought that was it?” She pressed one finger against your clit through the drenched material, dragging it slowly, teasingly. You whimpered, still oversensitive.
“Oh no, sweetheart,” she purred, lips brushing your ear again. “We’re not finished. I’ve barely begun.”
Her fingers never left your thigh as she eased you back against the leather of her chair, tugging you until you were spread over her lap. Your body still twitched with aftershocks, every nerve ending sparking and raw. You opened your mouth to protest, to beg for a breath, but she pressed two fingers to your lips and shook her head.
“Shh,” she soothed, voice still low but softer now, almost coaxing. “I know, baby. You’re trembling. You’ve already been so good for me.” She pulled her hand away, dragging her thumb over your damp bottom lip. “But you can give me more, can’t you? You can take more.”
Her tone wasn’t sharp anymore. It was velvet, warm, like she was coaxing you into something inevitable. And god, you wanted to.
“I’ll help you through it,” she whispered, sliding her hand beneath your skirt, fingers tracing the edge of your panties. The touch was featherlight, teasing, as if she was giving your body a chance to breathe. “I’ll make it feel so good. You’ll come undone all over my fingers, and I’ll hold you while you shake. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
You nodded before the word even formed.
“That’s my girl,” she murmured, and the praise burned hotter than her teasing had. She hooked two fingers into your panties, dragging the damp fabric aside. The air against your swollen skin made you jolt, another reminder of how sensitive you already were.
“Look at you,” she cooed. “So wet it’s dripping down your thighs. That’s all for me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” you breathed, the word fractured.
Her smile softened, still sinful but edged with approval. “Good. Open wider for me.”
You obeyed, thighs spreading over her lap, back arching against the leather chair. She slid two fingers through your folds, slow and deliberate, coating herself in your slick before pressing against your entrance.
The stretch made you gasp, your body tightening reflexively, but she soothed you with a kiss to your jaw. “Easy,” she murmured, easing one finger in. “That’s it. Breathe, baby. You’re doing so well.”
Her finger curled inside you, dragging over that spot that made your vision blur. Your hips twitched without permission, and she chuckled softly.
“See? Your body knows me already. Knows exactly where I’ll touch to make you fall apart again.”
She added the second finger, slow, deliberate, and your whole body seized up, overstimulation threatening to overwhelm. Tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, but she caught your face in her free hand, thumb stroking your cheek.
“Look at me,” she commanded, gentle but firm. “You can take it. You’re perfect when you take it.”
Her rhythm stayed steady, curling deep inside you, her palm grinding against her clit with every thrust. Your whimpers filled the office, sharp little sounds that she devoured with hungry eyes.
“That’s it,” she praised, voice low and constant. “You’re opening up for me. You’re so fucking beautiful when you lose yourself like this. My perfect girl, giving me every sound, every drop.”
Your walls clenched tight around her fingers, and she kissed your temple, murmuring encouragements between every thrust.
“You’re going to come for me again. You can do it. I want you to. Give me every bit of it. That’s it, sweethearts. Let go.”
The orgasm ripped through you, harsher this time, tearing a ragged cry from your throat. Your hips bucked against her hand, every muscle shaking from the effort of holding on, of surrendering to the overwhelming flood. She held you through it, her fingers never stopping, her other hand cradling your face so you had no choice but to see the satisfaction in her eyes.
“That’s my good girl,” she murmured, kissing the tears from your cheeks. “You did so well for me. I could watch you fall apart like that forever.”
Your body was still trembling, oversensitive and flushed, but you couldn’t stop staring at her. Her dark hair framed her face in dishevelled strands now, lips swollen from biting them as she watched you recover. She looked unfairly composed, even after wringing you out, and something inside you tightened at the thought of undoing her in return.
Before she could guide you again, you slid off her lap, sinking to your knees on the office floor. The leather chair creaked under her as she leaned forward in surprise.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice husky, eyes narrowing in amused suspicion.
You placed your hands on her thighs, thumbs stroking the firm muscle beneath her skirt. “Returning the favour,” you murmured, kissing the inside of her knee.
Her smirk twitched, her voice softening with a warning edge. “Careful, sweetheart. You think you can handle me?”
You smiled up at her, bolder now. “I think I can make you fall apart just like you did to me.”
The sharp breath she drew betrayed her, even as she shook her head like she was still in charge. “Confident little thing, aren’t you?”
But when you slid your hands higher, pushing her skirt up to her hips, her thighs parted without hesitation. Her lacy underwear was already damp, a dark patch spreading across the delicate fabric. The sight made your stomach flip with desire.
“You’re wet,” you teased softly, pressing a kiss just above the damp spot. “Were you getting off on watching me fall apart?”
Her hand shot down, fingers curling into your hair with a sharp tug. “Don’t get cocky.” But her voice cracked halfway, betraying her, and it made you grin.
You licked slowly up the damp lace, savouring the way she shuddered above you. “You taste like you’ve been waiting,” you whispered, sliding her panties aside.
Her composure cracked further the second your tongue found her. She let out a low, guttural moan, hips twitching against your mouth. Her grip on your hair tightened, guiding you with shaky insistence, though you could feel her restraint faltering.
“That’s—ah—good,” she gasped, trying to smother the sound with her hand against her mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
You wrapped your arms around her thighs to hold her still, tongue working in long, deliberate strokes that made her legs tremble. Every time you pressed harder, circled slower, she gasped louder, her control slipping piece by piece.
“Look at you,” you murmured against her, lips slick with her arousal. “So desperate already.”
Her head fell back against the chair, eyes squeezed shut, jaw tight. “I’m not—” she tried, but her voice broke on a whimper as your tongue flicked her clit just right.
“Oh, you are,” you whispered, and dove back in, sucking hard until she cried out.
Her thighs clamped around your head, trying to pull you closer. Her hand trembled in your hair, the once-firm grip loosening as her strength ebbed with each shuddering breath.
“Fuck—don’t you dare stop,” she begged, her voice breaking now, the cool authority gone. “Please. Please, I need—”
The word please falling from her lips made you smirk against her. You slid one finger inside her, curling up gently, and she nearly came undone instantly, bucking against your hand with a desperate sob.
“Shh,” you soothed, echoing her own words from earlier, though your tone dripped with playful confidence. “I’ll help you through it. You can take it. You’re perfect when you take it.”
Her body convulsed around your tongue and fingers, sharp cries filling the office as the orgasm tore through her. She clutched at the armrests, then at your shoulders, like she couldn’t decide whether to hold on or let go.
When she finally came down, her chest heaving, hair sticking to her damp temples, she looked down at you with wide, dazed eyes. For the first time, she wasn’t composed or smug. She was undone. Raw, needy, vulnerable.
You kissed her inner thigh softly, grinning up at her. “Told you I could handle you.”
She laughed weakly, breathless, running a trembling hand through your hair. “Cocky little thing,” she whispered, her smile edged with pride. “But god, you’re dangerous.”
Victoria slumped back against the chair, fingers still tangled in your hair, breathing uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes, dark and smouldering, watched you with a mixture of amusement, pride, and something more vulnerable you hadn’t seen before.
“You’re impossible,” she murmured, voice husky, running a trembling hand down your arm. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
You grinned, brushing your lips against her knee, teasing, playful. “I think I have some idea.”
Her smirk returned, slow and dangerous, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her chest was still heaving, her composure only partially restored.
“Careful,” she warned, though the warning lacked its usual bite. “One day, I might just decide to take back control in a way you won’t forget.”
You chuckled softly, letting your hands drift over her thighs, tracing the lingering heat beneath her clothes. “I’ll be ready for you,” you teased. “Or maybe I’ll get first say next time.”
Victoria’s lips twitched in a half-smile, her eyes darkening again with that familiar, predatory glint. “Next time, huh?” she murmured. “Don’t think this ends here. You’ve stirred something in me… something that won’t let me forget this.”
You leaned back, still close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body, watching her chest rise and fall. Even now, even after everything, she still radiated control. Though you could see the cracks, the places where she’d lost it to you.
“Good,” you whispered, a smile playing on your lips. “I like it when you lose a little.”
Her laughter was low, throaty, and for a moment, she let herself sink into it. “Don’t get used to it,” she said, though the tension had left her voice, replaced by something softer, almost intimate. “But… maybe next time, we’ll see who really takes charge.”
The air between you was thick, electric, lingering with heat and unspoken promises. Neither of you moved to leave. Neither of you wanted to. The office lights hummed above, but the world outside had vanished. All that remained was the shared understanding that this was far from over, and that next time, the game would continue.
And with that, the two of you sat, close and untangled, breathing together, a charged silence holding the weight of everything unsaid.
-----------------------------------------
Masterlist
tears are running down my thighs indeed as sabrina said
★★★𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙤𝙩 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 22: 𝘿𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣)★★★
Character: Morticia Addams
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 @marvels--slut
Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Dumbification, strap on use,
Genre: Smut
A/n: Yes, this was planned to be short! XD
Word count: 0.5k
...
...
— nsfw alphabet with alex cabot !
— alex cabot x female reader
𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑵𝒐𝒘 - (Catherine Zeta-Jones x Fem Reader)
catherine zeta-jones x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: car sex, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk, desperation, neediness, vocal, whiny!Catherine, teasing, praise kink, semi-public, mutual pleasure, power dynamics
for @cseynvak <33
smut, porn without plot, oneshot word count: 3k
Catherine's usually composed, polished and untouchable. But tonight, she can't wait any longer. Desperate, needy, and teasingly whiny, she takes what she wants in the car, letting herself unravel completely... with you. Read on AO3
𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑵𝒐𝒘
The studio lot was almost deserted by the time you rolled into the private exit lane, headlights sweeping over a row of empty trailers. You always came this way. Far from the street, far from the paparazzi who lingered like vultures at the main gate. Out here, the night felt sealed off, quiet except for the soft tick of your engine cooling when you parked.
Your fingers drummed the steering wheel, restless. She always made you wait a little while, she finished her goodbyes and wrapped up her last-minute notes with the director. You never minded. It gave you time to notice the details. The way the sodium lights buzzed overhead, throwing amber halos across the pavement, the faint smell of rain still clinging to the air after the afternoon’s storm.
suddenly im typing with one hand? huh…weird
𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑻𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - (𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒁𝒆𝒕𝒂-𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
catherine zeta-jones x fem reader | oneshot
smut warnings: light dom/sub, power dynamics, edging, mutiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering
for @cseynvak <33
smut, porn without plot, oneshot word count: 2k
Catherine knows exactly what she wants, and she knows exactly how to make you give it to her. Cold, commanding, and endlessly indulgent, she takes her time pulling you apart just to put you back together. Again and again. Read on AO3 can be read as catherine or morticia :)
𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑻𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕
me and her reenacted this last night btw
Casey Novak - NSFW alphabet
A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
If she just ate you out she'll get up from down there with a smirk on her face, so pleased with herself at the high she got you on. Then, as she hovers over you, she takes you in with adoring eyes; the way your chest rises high with every breath you take, recovering from amazing sex.
She'll hum and, remaining as close a she can to your body, she will go up to your face, taking you in for a moment, your glossy eyes staring back at her lovingly. "That was amazing," you'll tell her. She'll hum, her eyes flicking to your mouth and then leaning in to give you a loving kiss.
"You're amazing," she'll tell you. She's never short on compliments when you're in bed together (or wherever you're doing it), even when she's being bossy and teasing you.
Then she'll give you pecks all over your body, still not able to keep her hands off you, but neither can you give up the physical touch.
She'll pull you close or have you snuggle against her and play with your hair while you fall asleep, and not long after she'll doze off too.
B = Body part
You absolutely love everything about her, she's just drop dead gorgeous (and amazing, and funny, and caring...). But if you'd have to choose, you'd say her face. Her lips look so perfectly plump and soft, through which she tells all her witty remarks and smart arguments, and flashes you her cute smile. Her beautiful eyes that are green, though sometimes appear blue under the bullpen lighting. Her jawline that's so prominent but still her cheecks look so plump and fluffy you want to kiss and trace them all the time.
She loves your eyes the most. Every time you talk she'll make sure she looks at you, and she'll get lost in them or try to take them in because through it she can discover so much about you. But her eye-contact never feels like too much, if anything you feel seen by her. (But of course she's a boob lover too. Above all, she's a you lover though, but I don't need to tell you that.)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
One thing about Casey is she loves to eat you out. She really loves doing anything with you when you make love together, but something about going down on you and seeing you all wet because of her makes her go crazy. She's crazy good at it too. And when you're coming, she'll ride you out and take one last long lick; your cum is like sweet honey to her.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
(Haven't come up with one yet. If anyone has an idea coming to mind, please do share. When an idea pops up in my head, I'll add it.)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
She was a virgin until she was twenty-five, but she's always been a quick learner. She's had her first time before being with you, and some other hook ups after dates where she generously took in all tricks that she, along other new stuff she's come up with and wants to try out, shows off to you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Between your legs to get to be surrounded by you, crushed by your thighs, the perfect place take you in. But especially to drive you crazy; she'll praise with groans and low moans that drive you further on edge, she'll praise with words too and then earn a desperate "Case, please-" from you if she decides to verbally praises you in the midst of eating you out. Safe to say she wants to devour you and love you and show it by having you take everything she has to give, because she'll give everything to you.
Another thing --which technically also takes place in between your legs-- is she loves to drop to her knees in front of you, fully aware of how her hooded eyes full of lust and desire never once leaving their gaze from yours, drives you crazy. At the same time she loves how your equally lust-filled eyes, tinged with adoration, stare back at her from above as she drops down below you with her hands trailing down your sides.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
There's no Casey without goofiness and playful jests here and there. One thing about you and Casey is you get along really well, even though you banter, and her sarcasm and wit you also share, you care for each other deeply and one could propose it's part of your love language, and though you'd deny it with a scoff it's the very truth. It shows in the bedroom that you get along well, where she'll be so passionate with you but never without making you feel loved and show you through playful banter just how comfortable she is with you. It's also how she makes you that much more comfortable.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Not much to say except that she's well groomed. It doesn't look like a wild bush, it looks well kept, though she won't shave completely. If she'd want to do so, she wouldn't have the time for it anyway, but she doesn't, she prefers to keep it natural but clean and groomed.
I = Insatiable (how do they act when they're desperate to have you?)
Something strange about Casey is that if she's looking for cuddles and hugs she's never going to ask you. She's going to give you subtle nudges and touches, leaning her head on your shoulder and into your body, but she's rarely, if ever, going to straight up ask you for them. With sex though? You'll be at the bar with the others drinking and having fun when you notice Casey hasn't said anything for a good minute. She'll down the last bit of her drink and tell you: "Let's go."
"What, already? Why?" You ask, giving her a confused look, but she pushes you up by your lower back while giving the others her goodbye. Reluctantly you'll do the same and when she opens the door for you she'll tell you: "I need you."
She'll probably never actually straight up ask you to have sex, like 'let's have sex'. Its not conscious of her, it's just that she thinks about sex more like making love to you and making you feel good and needing you. See? You. Either way she'll tell you when she needs you, and if for some circumstantial reason she can't ask you straight up or you can't have sex, she'll follow you around with her eyes like some desperate adorable puppy at a distance, or tease you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Before you were together with all the tension going on she's probably touched herself. She's always been busy though, so not often. But after a hard case, going to the bar and then home, the case still heavy on her shoulders and thinking about your smile today and the way you walked around the bullpen it's just too much and she needs to release it somehow. She always felt something lacking though, even when coming with your whimpered name on her lips. It never compared to actually having you and she desperately craved you, that was the missing thing.
Now that you're together she doesn't really touch herself anymore. She'd rather suffer through the horny-ness to go home to you than waste time on something that doesn't compare to being with you anyways (or she'll just call you over to her office if she's down bad). And if she does touch herself, it's to tease you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I know she doesn't have a dick, but if she did I think she'd have some sort of a breeding kink. But not as strongly all the time, it's always around the same every month or so. Funnily enough it always seems to line up with when you're ovulating, or your body is acting like it.
Besides the obvious things like dirty talk and hearing your breath and whimpers during sex, she loves to watch your face through a mirror while she fucks you from behind. Though you aren't eager to see whatever face you make when she makes you feel good, you do enjoy getting a glimpse of her enjoying herself behind you whenever you manage to keep your eyes open.
(Bonus I guess: your kink, which isn't really a shocking one but has to be mentioned, is listening to her voice. Her voice hoarse, husky and smooth like silk. The way she groans and whimpers when you're together. When she kisses you or eats you out and the low noise vibrated right through you. Every time you hope she talks as much as possible, praising you, saying anything really. She soon learned that whenever she does talk or make noise you seem that much more desperate for her, so she uses it.)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Because you both work so much, there's a few times you do it in the office. But both your favorite places is at home in your bed. Where you can make all the noise you want, try all the things you want and then snuggle up together with not a care in the world except each other.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The noises you make, the way you pull her closer to you and your body acts so desperate for her touch, as if you'd want to merge into her and have her consume you whole.
She loves to feel how your walls clench around her fingers, the way she feels your euphoric high through your trembling thighs. Just the fact that she made you feel that way.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Honestly she'll do whatever with you, she loves you crazy much. And though she won't directly act like a crazy doe-eyed puppy with no principles, if you pay enough attention you'll notice how she'll do just about anything for you. Even if her face may show a frown, her glossy eyes tell a different story.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Like I said, she loves to eat you out. She also loves to be eaten out by you, to praise you for being such a good girl (she loves calling you 'baby', or any words of endearment really, but baby is her most used one).
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
She's very gentle with you and sensual wanting to make you feel loved and appreciated while taking her time to take you in and take in your reaction to new things she tries or see how you still grin when she spins you around to push you against the wall, to not quite believe she still has such an effect on you making you act like a teenager in love even after all this time. Of course to you it's foregone that you're still in awe of her entire being the way you always used to be when you'd all debrief and you'd focus so attentively on whatever smart things she said or witty remarks she'd make. Even when she didn't say anything and Liv was adding something to the case you'd keep half your focus on Casey instead of the debrief.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
She prefers to take her time with you. So, even when one of you is so desperate for the other you know you're not done for the day.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Like previously mentioned, she'll try anything with you. She won't mind any proposals from you, and she won't judge you for it either (though she will quirk her brow in interest at new discoveries about your desires).
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
She can go a while. Usually you don't get to see her stamina wrung out. She'll please you, you'll return the favor, then you'll rest for a bit and go at it again; she's the one who loves to test your limits. But the occasions where you're the one returning the favor of squeezing every last orgasm out of her you can go up to three until she whimpers your name with a desperate, "Please," as she's a complete out-of-breath mess.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
She'll use a dildo on you, especially when those particular fantasies discussed previously arise, and though not often, you'll use it on her as well.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Though it might not seem like directly, Casey is very patient and therefore a big tease. But sometimes her desire to hear that particular way in which you say her name, begging softly for her when you're near your high, just goes above her patience.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
She's not loud, especially because her voice is so deliciously low. She'll groan and moan lowly. She'll praise you, and when she receives, she'll praise you again. But when she's coming to her high and you surprise her with your fastening pace or some other move, she'll whimper for you and her moans will be higher-pitched.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
She loves your belly and loves to rub circles to the side of it with her thumb while you recover and pant from having come just a moment ago. She also love to give you kisses on your belly, and everywhere; she'll trace every body part and leave a kiss and a compliment to which you can't help but smile like a buffoon and call her out embarrassed, "Case-"
"Hmm?"
You let out a giggle as she continues to place pecks from your abdomen to your thigh. "Come up and give me a proper kiss," you tell her.
"Every part of your body deserves a proper kiss," she says, and after another peck she comes up with a smile on her face and she cups your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Idk.
Y = Yours (how they'll show that someone's theirs, if they would do such thing)
She loves the classical way to just kiss you and leave hickeys all over your body, especially your neck and thighs. And honestly, you love it too, your thighs that is. Your neck? You don't appreciate that so much because you have to bother with wearing a turtleneck or do something to cover it up. Casey will just smirk at your slight annoyance, telling you "Babe, come on it's not that bad."
"Not that bad? Case, I look like I've got full-on prunes under my skin," you say. Casey chuckles at your strange analogy. "I'll help you put on ..., how's that?"
"But it's hot today, I'll feel icky."
"Then put on my turtleneck."
You groan. "I'll feel like I'm suffocating all day. How about you just kiss me some other place if we both know my skin doesn't have the time to recover in time for no one else to see?"
"Fine," Casey says reluctantly. She leans in to give you a quick kiss and then smile at the annoyance still visible with your furrowed brows, taking in her work on your neck too with a smirk while she's at it.
"Now give me your shirt," you tell her and she throws it to you from your closet. At least her scent so close to you all day is a start from Casey to make it up to you. Though, you both know this won't be the last time you'll wear her turtleneck for this reason, it wasn't the first time either.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
She'll wait for you to fall asleep first, but usually you both drift off around the same time. You'll snuggle against her and she'll hold you close with your head in the crook of her neck where you can take in her intoxicating scent: her luxurious and soft perfume mixed with her sweat due to your previous activity. She'll play with your hair too because she's always loved your hair and when she played with it in the past, it felt so good you told her to not stop, and so she's kept doing it ever since.
the way her skirt rides up her thigh is driving me fucking crazy.
Period comfort (endometriosis) headcanons with Olivia Benson?
just posted!!!
Hi babe! Im so excited that you're writing for Olivia! Would you consider writing something or maybe even just some headcannons about how she would react getting a call that you're hurt or in the hospital? It doesn't have to be for anything super serious or it could be, but it's totally up to you if you feel like writing something. :)
of course sweetheart!!! i’ll start it rn :))
— lover, you should’ve come over 🍂☕️🪵
— casey novak x female reader
summary: a cozy afternoon walk in central park turns into a string of stolen kisses when casey novak’s cute rambling—and even cuter ranting about a case—proves too irresistible to ignore.
warnings: fluff, established relationship, comfort / wholesome
for @vcrkisses 🧸
Slick On The Barrel
pairing: abigail borin x female!reader
warnings: dark themes, power dynamics, rough sex, oral, fingering, gun play, smut
summary: after a brutal case, abigail borin takes control. she teaches you the hard lessons of trust, fear, and command. cold steel and heated skin blur as control turns into craving, and hesitation becomes submission.
put it in my gut!!!!
Glad you're writing for Olivia again! 🥰 Would you consider writing for Melinda Warner as well?
of course!! let me know what you’d like <3
Red Velvet
pairing: olivia benson x female!reader
warnings!!: NSFW / smut, dom!liv, & praise kink, alcohol
summary: a dinner date with olivia ends with her taking you back to her apartment—and pulling out a new toy she’s been dying to use on you.
———————————————————————————
It starts the way it always does—with her eyes on you like you’re already undressed.
You’re seated across from her in a cozy, dimly lit restaurant. Candles flicker on the white tablecloth, wine glasses half-full, and the soft murmur of other patrons is barely noticeable over the jazz trickling through the speakers. Everything feels intimate. Enclosed. Yours.
Olivia’s dressed in dark navy—button-up shirt slightly open at the collar, blazer slung over the back of her chair. Her sleeves are rolled to the elbow, revealing forearms you’ve thought about kissing more times than you’ll ever admit. Her hair is pinned up messily, a few strands falling loose and wild. And that smile? Crooked. Dangerous. Patient.
She’s watching you swirl the last of your wine, her expression unreadable—but her eyes are dark.
“You know you’ve been teasing me all night,” she says eventually, her voice low and velvety.
You blink up at her. “Me?”
“Mmhmm.” She leans in. “That little dress. Those legs. The way you keep biting your lip.”
You look down at your drink, flushed, smiling despite yourself.
“And now,” she adds, her voice dipping even lower, “I’m wondering what I’m going to do about it.”
Your stomach flips.
She doesn’t break eye contact when she downs the last sip of her wine, then gently sets her glass aside. Her fingers slide across the table and take your hand—strong and firm, warm and certain.
“You’re coming home with me,” Olivia says simply.
You’re not sure if it’s a question. You don’t care. You nod anyway.
Her apartment smells like her—sandalwood, leather, and the faintest hint of vanilla.
The door shuts behind you with a click, and before you can turn around, Olivia’s there—her hands on your hips, lips brushing the side of your neck.
“You look so good, baby,” she murmurs into your skin. “All fucking night I’ve been thinking about getting you out of this dress.”
Your hands reach behind you to touch her thighs, her waist, anything solid. You lean into her, exhaling shakily.
But she pulls back.
“Bedroom,” she says with a quiet authority. “Now.”
You obey.
By the time you step into her bedroom, your pulse is racing. The lights are dim. The sheets are turned down. And sitting on the bed like it was waiting for you—is a small pink box with clean, expensive packaging.
Your brows lift. “What’s this?”
Olivia steps around you, undoing the top button of her shirt with one hand, casually.
“I got something new,” she says, walking past you toward the bed. “Wanted to try it on you.”
She lifts the lid of the box.
Inside, nestled in velvet, is a brand new rose toy—soft silicone, sleek, and blushing pink.
Your throat goes dry.
She turns toward you with it in her palm, brows slightly raised. “Ever used one?”
You shake your head.
“Good.” She sets it on the bed and walks slowly toward you, eyes scanning your face. “I want to see how you fall apart for me.”
“Take off your dress,” Olivia says softly. “And lie back.”
Your breath hitches. That voice—low and sure, no room for argument—sends heat rushing through you. You step back, unzipping the side of your dress with trembling fingers, and let the fabric fall around your ankles.
Her eyes trail over you slowly, hungrily, as if she’s been waiting for this all night.
Maybe she has.
You lie back on the bed, heart pounding in your chest, and she walks around to the side table where she’s set the toy. She picks it up like it’s something precious, testing the weight of it in her palm.
You’ve never felt this vulnerable. This seen.
“I’ve done the research,” she says, amused, running her thumb along the silicone rim of the rose. “It’s supposed to feel… intense.”
You swallow. “Yeah?”
She looks at you, smile softening. “If it’s too much, you tell me.”
You nod. “I trust you.”
That changes something in her expression—something deeper. Her dominant edge never fades, but for a second, there’s something tender in her gaze. Something reverent.
“Good girl.”
Your body lights up.
Olivia kneels on the bed beside you and gently nudges your legs apart with her hand. She doesn’t rush. She watches your reaction with every movement, enjoying the anticipation stretching between you like silk.
Then she leans in, lips brushing your inner thigh. “You’re already wet for me.”
You let out a soft, broken sound as she places a slow, open-mouthed kiss over your panties. Her nose nudges you through the thin fabric before she sits back, sliding them down your legs.
The air hits your skin, and then—Olivia lifts the toy.
“I want you to relax,” she murmurs, thumb brushing the outer button before she presses it.
A soft hum fills the room. Gentle at first.
And then she brings it to your clit.
The sensation is instant. A fluttering suction, rhythmic and warm—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Your hips jump, and your eyes fly open.
“Oh my god—Liv—”
Her hand presses lightly to your thigh, keeping you still.
“That’s it,” she whispers. “Take it for me.”
Your mouth falls open, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. The toy pulses again, soft and focused, and your spine arches. It’s like her mouth, but somehow deeper—more insistent. Constant. Unrelenting.
She watches you squirm beneath her, eyes glued to your face, lips parted slightly as if she’s memorizing the exact second your control snaps.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” Olivia says, voice thick. “Falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
She increases the intensity—just one button tap.
Your legs shake.
“Too much?” she asks, tilting her head.
You’re not sure you can speak, so you just shake your head hard, jaw slack. “No—fuck—don’t stop—”
She leans down, mouth to your ear. “Beg for it.”
The suction pulses again—sharper this time—and your whole body jerks.
“Liv—please, please, I’m so close—”
“Mmh. I know, baby.” She kisses your neck, the underside of your jaw. “You sound so good like this.”
Her free hand trails up your thigh and rests gently over your stomach, grounding you, as the toy continues its merciless rhythm.
“You gonna come for me?” she asks, low and steady. “Soaked and shaking, right onto my sheets?”
You nod desperately. “Yes—yes, I—fuck—”
And then it hits.
Your whole body locks up, thighs clamping around her wrist, hips rolling uncontrollably against the soft vibration. The orgasm takes over like a wave—crashing through you in hot, endless pulses as you moan her name over and over, half-sobbing into the sheets.
She never stops watching.
Even when your body finally goes still, trembling, breathless, Olivia gently turns the toy off and sets it aside.
You’re panting, skin flushed, eyes glassy—and she climbs up beside you, pulling you into her arms like you’re something breakable.
“You okay?” she asks softly, lips to your temple.
You nod into her shoulder, body limp but warm. “More than okay.”
She laughs gently and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Told you.”
She’s still holding you when the idea comes.
Your breathing is slower now, the buzz of the orgasm still pulsing faintly in your limbs—but your mind is sharp. Sharp enough to realize: she’s fully clothed. And watching you with that smug satisfaction like she hasn’t been silently begging for your touch all night.
You lift your head from her shoulder and meet her gaze. Her pupils are dark. Lips parted.
And maybe it’s the high of her taking you apart like that—but you want to see her lose control too.
Your fingers ghost over her collarbone, down to the buttons of her shirt.
Her brow lifts. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”
You smile. “Returning the favor.”
Her tongue flicks across her lower lip—curious now, maybe even a little amused—but she doesn’t stop you as you unbutton her shirt slowly, one after another. You push it off her shoulders, kissing the skin there as she watches you from beneath heavy lashes.
When your fingers go to her belt, she exhales—just the smallest sound.
“You’re getting bold.”
“Maybe I want to see how you sound with this thing.”
You reach beside her and pick up the toy—still slick with you, still warm from use. You give her a look, deliberate and slow, and she tilts her head, eyes narrowing.
She lies back against the pillows, arms behind her head.
“Well then,” she says, that same dark grin tugging at her mouth, “Show me what you’ve learned.”
Your pulse pounds as you settle between her legs, pulling her slacks down along with her black lace underwear. She’s soaked—of course she is—and the sight makes your throat dry.
You kiss the inside of her thigh first, just to see her twitch. She hums.
“Don’t get shy now, baby.”
You smile up at her—and press the toy to her clit.
She gasps.
Even Olivia Benson can’t hide it when she’s caught off guard. Her hips jerk, her thighs tense around your shoulders, and her head drops back against the pillow.
“Fuck—”
You adjust the angle, letting it settle into that same pulsing rhythm she gave you earlier.
Her breath starts coming quicker.
“Oh, that’s—” she bites her lip, jaw flexing. “Shit, that’s good.”
You watch her come apart slowly, savoring every twitch of her, every tremble in her thighs. You ease the toy against her, building the pressure in waves, and her hands shift—gripping the sheets now instead of resting lazily behind her head.
“Look at you,” you murmur. “So cocky at dinner, and now you’re shaking.”
Her eyes flicker open, half-glazed. “You better finish what you started.”
“I plan to.”
You increase the intensity by one notch—and Olivia moans. Full-bodied, low, deep in her throat.
It sends heat right back between your legs.
“Come on, Liv,” you whisper, pressing a kiss just above her mound. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
“Goddamn you—” But her hips are rolling now, breath ragged, hands clenching into fists. She’s holding herself together by threads.
You lean closer, lips brushing her inner thigh. “Let go for me.”
And that’s all it takes.
Her body bows off the bed, a choked sound breaking from her lips as the orgasm hits. It rips through her, raw and unrestrained—hips jerking, legs shaking, hands gripping anything within reach. She says your name, half-growled, half-moaned, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.
You turn the toy off gently and toss it aside, crawling up beside her as her breathing slows.
She’s flushed, damp, trembling with aftershocks—and grinning lazily now, her eyes still closed.
“Well, damn,” she mutters, one arm flopping over her eyes. “That was…”
“Good?”
She huffs a laugh, turning toward you. “Fucking amazing.”
You curl into her side, resting your hand over her chest where her heart still pounds.
And then—softly—she kisses your forehead.
“Next time,” she murmurs, voice rough and low, “I’m tying you up.”
You smile against her skin. “Can’t wait.”
Her body is still warm beside you, flush with the aftermath of everything you just did to her.
You lie tangled in Olivia’s sheets, one of her arms thrown around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your stomach. Your legs are still tangled with hers, your cheek pressed to the curve of her shoulder.
Neither of you says anything for a while.
The room is filled with only the soft sound of breathing, the occasional rustle of cotton as one of you shifts slightly. The air smells like sex, skin, and something faintly sweet—vanilla from her lotion, maybe, or her hair.
Her hand drifts lower over your stomach, slowly circling your navel, dipping teasingly toward the waistband of the sheets.
“Don’t get cocky just because you made me come once,” she murmurs, voice still scratchy from earlier. “I let you.”
You turn into her, smirking. “Let me?”
“Mmhmm.” Her lips graze your temple. “Could’ve stopped you at any time.”
“But you didn’t.”
She doesn’t answer. Just slides her thigh between yours again, slow and casual.
You close your eyes, exhaling shakily. Your body is still buzzing, oversensitive and aching in the best way. “Olivia…”
“You were a mess under me earlier,” she reminds you softly. “Squirming. Practically begging.”
Her fingers trace light, lazy circles on your inner thigh now. Not pushing. Just reminding.
“I could’ve made you come again. And again. Until you cried.”
You shiver.
She shifts closer and kisses just beneath your ear.
“But I wanted to see what you’d do to me. You always get like this when I give you control for a minute. It’s cute.”
You snort. “Cute?”
She grins against your skin. “Hot, too. But mostly because it makes me want to flip you over and ruin you again.”
You go silent.
Your heart skips at the way she says that—like it’s a promise, not a threat.
Then her voice changes—still low, but slower, more sincere.
“I love the way you look at me,” she murmurs. “Even when I’m bossing you around. You look at me like you’re proud to be mine.”
You open your eyes and meet her gaze. She’s close, her face serious now, lips parted like she’s waiting to speak again but doesn’t need to. You reach for her hand and lace your fingers together.
“I am,” you whisper. Her throat works once. Her fingers squeeze yours. Then she pulls you tighter, like the idea of you being anywhere but here is unbearable. “I don’t share,” she says into your hair. “You know that, right?”
You nod against her chest. “Good. Because the way you moaned my name earlier?” She kisses your forehead. “That belongs to me.”
You smile. And maybe it’s the wine, the afterglow, or the way she’s holding you like you’re something sacred—but you want to stay here forever.
“You’re mine too,” you murmur, tracing slow shapes on her ribs. “Even when you pretend you’re the one in charge.”
She laughs. “Pretend?”
You yelp as she flips you onto your back again, hovering over you in one smooth, effortless motion.
“Say that again,” she warns, voice rough, playful. You laugh, breathless, heart thudding all over again. “I dare you.”