savedenji

[savedenji]

️₊˚‧︵‿꒰ The Life We Grew series ꒱‿︵‧˚₊

summary : It starts with an audit. She’s a sharp-edged accountant sent to investigate hospital budget discrepancies. He’s a war-worn trauma doctor running an off-the-books supply system to keep his ER alive. Their first meeting is tense, all clipped words and locked eyes—but something in the mess clicks.

This is the story of what happens after: of two people falling in love slowly, deeply, and without a roadmap.

From fluorescent-lit hospital wings to mismatched dishes and prenatal vitamins lined up like trauma meds, this series follows Jack Abbot and the reader as they build a life from scratch. Marriage, parenthood, exhaustion, quiet joy. Toddler meltdowns and foot rubs. Sleepless nights and whispered “we’re really doing this” moments.

Through every audit, every phase, and every heartbeat—one, then two, then four—Jack learns how to be something he never thought he could be: a husband, a father, a safe place to land. And she learns how to let him.

This isn’t a story about falling in love. It’s about staying there.

note : this series has completely taken on a life of its own, so I figured it was time to give it a proper masterlist. I hope you love reading it as much as I’ve love writing it.

status : ongoing (last updated 08/04/25 : longest night at the pitt)

₊˚⊹ ୨୧ chapters :

prequel: irregularities

prequel part two : showing up anyway

part one: he begins to notice

part two: the camouflage onesie

part three: a year of you

part four : sticky fingers, quiet mornings

part five : the longest night at the pitt

₊˚⊹ ୨୧ bonus content :

happy father's day, Jack

the moment Jack realizes she’s it

duck's origin story

love island and shredded cheese: jack's guilty pleasure

instagram posts 1

❤︎ fanart : (x) (x)

[savedenji]

“You’re mine. You belong to me.” overrated, boring, tiresome, vaguely misogynistic undertones. -5/10

“I’m yours. I belong to you.” new, exciting, thrilling, beautiful, man who respects women, soft femdom coded, 10/10

[savedenji]

You know what's better than fluff? Dark fluff.

The kind where devotion borders on obsession, where love isn't just tender—it's consuming.

"I'd do anything for you, love," he murmurs, voice smooth, unwavering. "Anything you desire, and it's yours."

And the other doesn't hesitate, voice laced with something raw, something desperate.

"I want her to split me open—dig her fingers into my ribs and pry them apart. To hold my heart in her hands, feel the pulse of it against her palms, my blood staining her skin. I want her to pick my bones clean, crack them open, suck the marrow dry. I want to be ruined by her, consumed until there's nothing left of me but the taste of her name on what's left of my tongue."

Because love, when it’s deep enough, is a hunger—one that begs to be fed.

[savedenji]

✧*:.｡.Forbidden Unity.｡.:*✧

✧Synopsis✧ You never thought your best friend would be your first love and a dragon, well half dragon. Years of growing up with each other the two of you were inseparable. Until one day all of that change and you never saw him again. Maybe he is far away and forgotten about you. All you can do is dream and hope you will see him again.

✧Content✧ 18+, mdni, pwp, Dragon!Sylus, Princess/Queen!Reader, flashback, friend-to-lovers, first kiss, forbidden love{angsty}, reader has a coronation for becoming queen, reunion, returning feelings, virgin reader & sylus (implied), single penetration then double bc he has two hehe, biting, dirty talking, foreplay, praise, positions {cowgirl & pro. bone}, unprotected (wrap the meat or accept defeat), double creampie, pet names{princess, love, sweetie}, etc.

✧Author's Note✧ I finally was able to get this done omggggg. Y'all don't know how many times I changed the plot while writing this but I'm so so so so happy to finally finish. Even tho it's long I'm happy with how it came together. I've had dragon sylus on the brain a lot lately and I wanted to write for him so bad. Hurry up and bring out the rerun💳💳💳💳!! Next time I'll be writing for Rafayel so that is going to be exciting. I hope you all enjoy! Love yall💞. Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

✧Word Count✧ ~8.7k+

Why did this happen? Everything was perfect until that night it went all up in flames. It has been a while since you have seen him. Recollecting all the memories both of you shared up until that night. The most memorable one being the first time you met him. It was a random encounter but who would have thought things would flourish from there between the two of you.

At the age of twelve you were minding your business in the royal garden underneath the cherry blossoms reading a book with Magnus, your dragon plush. Your mother and father were inside tending to a meeting that you could care less about, so you came out here. With a book in your hands and your favorite stuffed animal sitting in your lap you continued to read. It felt like time was still even with the breeze blowing through the branches and petals floating down from above. Just before you were about to turn to the next page a voice sounded from nearby.

“Your Royal Highness! Your Royal Highness!” It was one of the maids calling out to you from the rear entrance to the kitchen. You turned around and huffed softly, not liking to be interrupted.

“Yes ma’am?” you answered as politely as you could.

“Your lunch is ready my dear. If you would like to eat it out here, you may.” Her words immediately changed your tune as you quickly yet carefully stood up.

“Don’t worry I won’t be too long and don’t read ahead of me.” You tucked the book into the little dragon’s arms and leaned him against the tree before you turned around to leave. Magnus now was holding the book staring up into the tree. He was in no danger of course especially with someone lurking in the branches above.

He was taking a nap when he heard you from below. Usually when he hears people in the garden, he would try to make an exit, but it seems like today was different. There with his back against the trunk he peered down to see you putting down the blanket and sit against the tree. He kept quiet as he watched and listened to you read aloud to the stuffed animal in your lap.

After the mysterious person watched you leave and left the little dragon unattended, he climbed his way down to get a closer look at it. As he climbed down, he made sure the coast was clear as he reached down to grab the book. Magnus was emotionless as the book left his little stuffed arms but then the person grabbed him with a moving appendage coming from his back.

“The Last Dragon” he read aloud. With a look at the cover and then back to Magnus all he could do was shake his head. He opened the book to the page you stopped at and began to read. He has never read such a book about a dragon, and it intrigues him. So much so that he did not hear you returning so you can finish reading while eating your lunch. As you turned the corner yours eyes nearly popped out of your head.

He must have heard you as they turned around and looked at you. You were still and it felt like your feet were glued to the earth beneath your shoes. The way your eyes locked with his red orbs felt foreign as you tried to think of what to do. You stared as he held your book in his hands but when you Magnus that is when you started to react.

“Hey, put down Magnus!”  You tossed the basket to the ground and leaped for him but when you looked at your hands he was not there. “What are you doing?! Give him back this instant!” You turned around to see he was not there but when you looked up into the tree there he was. “Excuse me I’m talking to you.”

He looked down from behind the book at you with a smirk but then returned to reading. You gasped as if you could not believe what was happening.

“You humans have interesting stories but this” he paused as he slammed the book closed with one hand. “This is by far the most unusual book I’ve ever read.” You do not know whether to take that in a good way or a bad way but that is not important.

“Look if wanted the book you can have it, but can you at least give Magnus back.” Magnus was still being held hostage up on the branch and you do not take kindly to people taking your things without permission. He smirked as he jumped down from the tree and held him in front of you. You were hesitant to move forward thinking he was going to tease you again.

“Well? Aren’t you going to take it?” He held up the little dragon by what you conclude is a tail. You raised your hands slightly before pulling them back. Your actions only made the boy smirk as he shook his head. “If you do not want to take it from me just hold out your hands. Will that be easier for you?” In your head you think it might be a trick but deep down you could just give him some trust. Where you stood you held out your hands waiting for him to hand over Magnus, but it did not take long before he walked up to you.

As he got close, his tail swayed from side to side and now it raised some questions inside your head. Is it real? How is it that long? What does it feel like? You were enchanted by his tail you did not feel the soft dragon being put into your hands. He looked at with confusion but when he moved his tail your eyes followed. He did it again and got the same reaction. He started to laugh making you break out of your trance.

“What is so funny?

“You, how should I put this, are rather unique.” You scoffed as you looked down to brush the top of Magnus’s head. “Don’t take it the wrong way it’s a good thing. Besides, you are the first person not to run away screaming from my appearance.”

Looking up you saw him leaning against the tree looking up into the tree before looking out towards the horizon. Deep in your heart hearing him say that made you sad. You understand why people would be afraid, but he is harmless so far. Looking down, you rubbed the top of Magnus’ head and then looked back at him.

“Well, I find your appearance rather unique.” He looked towards you and scoffed as he heard you mock him from what he said earlier. A soft laugh left you before another noise came from you. Your stomach was starting to growl letting you know you need to eat something. Then his stomach started to growl, and it was louder than yours. Both of you stared at each other before laughing.

“Say if you don’t anywhere to be would you like to stay and have lunch with me and Magnus?” His crimson eyes scanned you as if to see if you were teasing him but when he looked in your eyes, he sees that you are asking genuinely. He doesn’t know when he will find food again so it wouldn’t hurt to accept your offer. With a slight nod you smiled as you walked closer to him.

“Well, if you are going to be our guest it’s rude of me to not introduce ourselves.” Raising your hand, you reached out and introduced yourself. He looked down at your delicate hand and then took his clawed one and grabbed your hand. “Sylus. It is a pleasure to meet you your Royal Highness.” When both of your eyes met both of you burst into laughter as the two of you sat on the blanket lying still on the ground.

From days to weeks to months and then to years you and Sylus would meet underneath that same tree. Each day there was something different and to listen to explain what he has seen in his life and then discovering more of his powers was amazing to you. Then to him to have you read to him was something he enjoyed as it was soothing to him.

Now time has flown by like nothing as the sun was high in the sky again like usual. Your hand holds a basket filled with goodies and the other holds a book that was only a few chapters from being done. Once you walked behind the tree you were about to set the basket on the ground before a familiar tail went to grab it.

“Looks like someone is hungry” you giggled looking up at the white hair man. With the years going by both of you changed you getting more beautiful and him getting taller broader and more handsome than the day before. He hummed as he used a clawed finger to peek into the basket, but you grabbed it and tapped his hand. “Ah, ah, ah Mr. Dragon you know better than that.” He huffed softly before shaking his head.

“Careful princess you don’t want to make the dragon angry.” He snarled playfully as he used his tail to grab your waist to pull you close. A burst of giggles was heard as you patted Sylus on his chest.

“Okay, okay let me go.” The feeling around your waist loosens giving you a chance to finish setting up everything again. Once you were facing away from him you could not stop smiling and the heat on your face wasn’t from the sun. When you two were younger it was all fun and games but as your grew older things like that gets you all flustered. Once everything was set up on the cloth blanket you took your seat against the tree. Looking around you did not see him until you felt something move around your waist. All you did was smile as you grabbed a half-cut sandwich from the center.

After finishing the book, you and Sylus sit against the tree watching the wilderness dance from the wind. Pairs of birds flying in the air around each other before disappearing. A thought came into your mind as you wondered what it would feel like to fly. It’s an impossible dream but it doesn’t hurt to imagine it.

“You okay princess? You’ve been staring at the sky for a long time.” You turned to see Sylus looking forward, yet he is talking to you.

“I’m fine just thinking what it would be like to be up in the clouds. Nothing too much just a silly thought.” Taking the last bite of your sandwich, you went to grab another, but he beat you to it. “Hey that was mine” you whined.

“Took too long.” You puffed out your cheeks before grabbing another sandwich. “You know your thought isn’t silly and it’s possible.” You nearly choked as he looked over to you.

“Sylus it is silly. I can’t fly and surely you don’t think you can make that possible.” You took the bite out of your sandwich, not realizing what you said turn several gears in his head. Without a second thought you felt his grab your wrist to pull you up and walk you towards the cliff far from the garden. In the process you were wondering what was going on along with being upset since he made you drop your sandwich. When you looked up you saw you were close to the edge, and it made your heart skip several times. “Sylus what are you doing?” you asked concerned with fear. The feeling of heat blew against your ear with his deep tone.

“Do you trust me?” he questioned. You don’t know how to answer as you were starting to piece it all together.

“Sylus you are a lunatic if you are about to do what I’m thinking you are about to do.” All he did was smirk as he stepped back to watch your reaction to seeing a high drop from the cliff’s edge.

“Relax and try not to scream too much.” Without any reaction time you were pushed off the edge and without having time to turn and grab him you were falling to your doom.

“SYLUS! YOU OVERGROWN LIZARD!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. Sylus could not resist laughing before he jumped from the cliff. Unknown to a pair of eyes seeing what just happened that quickly left the scene. Your life was flashing before your eyes thinking this was the end, but your thoughts were cut short when you were caught and wrapped in someone’s arms. Your eyes were still close before you slowly opened them. Looking up at him then the scene below you were trying to wrap your head around what was happening.

“You could’ve at least given me a warning instead of giving me a one-way ticket to heaven’s gates.”  There was no response as he kept his eyes forward, which you decided to let it be. Looking below, you began to see things you never thought you would see. The treetops that were so dense you could barely see through them. At one point you thought you saw a bear climbing a tree but when Sylus flew closer the bear began to climb back down.

This new perspective sparked excitement in your heart as you saw more things. The top of a lake down below was sparkling with a dark blue hue with nothing disturbing the surface. It looked so beautiful but as you began to fly over it your eyes when wide. Passing over the lake was a field of flowers that you have never seen before. A sea of red flowing in the wind was something you would never imagine.

“From that look on your face would you like to stop there?” It caught you off guard as you were in your own world. A quick nod was given which was enough for you slow down a bit to get a good landing. You tried to try to get down, but he began to walk through the flowers.

“Sylus, you can put me down now. I’m quite capable of walking on my own.” Doing your best to hop out of his arms only resulted in his grip getting tighter.

“Your Royal Highness please do forgive me, but I am doing this as an apology for not giving you a warning earlier. Besides don’t you enjoy being off your feet and held in my arms.” With a twist and turn of your mouth you didn’t do anything as you relaxed into his arms. “I’ll take that as a yes” he chuckled. You still didn’t respond as you looked around the field until your eyes landed on a perfect spot. A little hillside that you can lay on and look up at the sky with a few flowers scattered loosely about. Lifting your finger Sylus looked in the direction you are pointing.

“Hmmm that’s funny you never told me you were psychic because that’s where I was taking you.” You just laugh and smile as he began to run down the hill with a trial of petals flying in the air behind him. Once your destination was reached, he set you on the ground gently and then sat beside you. Looking down you took a flower in your hand and twirled it around your hand and let it go. It flew into the air and then floated back down towards you.

“Sylus?” you asked softly. He hums as he looked over at you. “Did you know about this place or was it just a stroke of luck of spotting it from our little flight?” With a soft laugh he shook his head.

“I knew this place was here. For a long time.” When he said that that made you curious.

“Really? How long?” you asked. He took a deep breath before letting out a sigh.

“Before I met you.” He took another breath before speaking. “This is my happy place before I discovered the kingdom you live in. This was a place where I could be free and be myself without the judgement of others. Just me and nature.” From the way he spoke it does not sound like it but there was a little pain behind his words. You reached over to grab his hand and rub your thumb over it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. People can be horrible sometimes.” He raised your hand to his lip to give it a kiss. “No need to apologize princess. You are not at fault for what happened in my youth, but I can say you made it better.” The warmth spread about in your chest as you watch him smile. Looking down at the little red flower you leaned over to put it in his hair, but you were caught off guard when he pulled you over him.

“Sylus!” you giggled, “What are you doing?” Once your eyes met everything around you froze in time. It didn’t feel real at that moment but once you felt his lips press against yours it was all real. When you pulled away, looking at him like this felt different and the look in his eyes were soft. “Sylus?”

“Yes sweetie?” he responded in a faint voice.

“I… I love you.” His soft expression never changed as he caressed your cheek with his finger. All he did was smile before he pulled you into another kiss and then pulled away. For the time remaining you lay on his chest and listened to his heartbeat with his arms and tail wrapped around you as the both of you lay in the bed of flowers.

The stars began to take over the sky as you and Sylus are in the air once more. Cool air brushing against your face was making it difficult to stay awake. The crescent moon lit the way back to the castle as Sylus cradled you in his arms. Sylus took a quick second to look down to see if you were okay and all he could do was grin when he saw your eyes were closed.

Without a thought he gave you a kiss on your forehead feeling your cool skin against his warm lips. You stirred around but then you settled again. The flight didn’t last long as he slowly floated down towards the cliff. He did it as gentle as he could, but you managed to wake up.

“You could’ve stayed asleep you know.” You groaned a little while still trying to wake up and Sylus just shook his head. With what energy you mustered up you began to pack everything away into the little basket. Even with it getting dark you didn’t want him to leave just yet and once you sat the blanket inside the basket you got an idea.

“Sylus how would you like to hang out a little bit longer?” The question lingered in his mind as he wondered why you would ask such a thing.

“I would love to but isn’t there guards around every corner in there? I’m quite sure they wouldn’t exactly take a stranger like me lightly.” A deep sigh left your lips as you grabbed the basket.

“You are right, but we aren’t going through the castle. You see that balcony right over there.” Your finger points to a balcony that was high up on the castle. “That goes to my room and from that alone you should know where I’m going with this.” Looking at his expression he pretended not to know what you are talking about until he saw you give him that look.

“Alright no need to give me that look.” You smiled as you walked up to him and kissed him.

“I’ll put these away in the kitchen first. So be a good dragon and stay put. Understand?”  His eyes began to glow as he let out a low growl. His tail slowly making its way around your waist.

“Don’t take too long” he responded. With a nod of your head, he removed his tail, and you turned around to walk down the stone path. Looking around, the path to the kitchen was clear and there wasn’t a soul walking around. As you walked inside Sylus leaned against the tree to look at the moon in the sky.

It was peaceful but then he felt a nearby presence that was not yours. Out the corner of his eye he not only saw one but a group of people in armor with someone standing in front of them. Sylus turned his head in their direction only to be faced with bow guns and rifles pointed at him.

“Move again and I’ll make sure you are turned into a corpse where you stand.” An older man slightly short than Sylus with the look that would make one wither was staring Sylus down. To Sylus he already knew who he was. The known king of this land and who happens to be your father. Sylus eyed the king wondering what the meaning of this is, but he has a few assumptions in mind. One of his assumptions was quickly confirmed once he began to speak again.

“Whatever spell or hypnotic trance you cast upon my daughter you better end it right now.” Sylus just shook his head as he turned his full body resulting in the guns getting loaded.

“Your Majesty I am not here to bring harm especially to your daughter. She is too precious for that.” The fury on the man’s face was noticeable, he was ready to blow his top at that very moment.

“You have no right to say such things and if you think there is something between you and her you can forget it. A monster like you don’t deserve her so whatever clutches you have on her you can drop it now.” Sylus just sighed as he began to laugh at his highness which was taken lightly.

“You know your army don’t stand against me with their bows and bullets. For all I care I can destroy everything here in less than a minute but sorry you all are not my priority. She is.” Before the king could speak you came running down the stone path excitedly but then you face drop when you saw your father and the army of armed knights.

“Father what is the meaning of this?” you asked as you got closer to Sylus.

“Sweetheart do not get any closer to him. You do not know what this monster’s intentions are.” Your face scrunched up wondering why he is saying such things, but it flew past your head that Sylus was a dragon.

“Please father he has been here dozens of times, and he has no intentions to bring harm” your father cut you off before you could finish.

“Dozens?! Do you mean he has been here more than once around you? What kind of spell has he cast on you!”

“Yes, he has, and he did not cast no such spell! All the years since the day we met when I was twelve, he has been someone who wasn’t so busy to spend time with me, and I have gotten to know him. Now I have feelings for him and they are genuine and true.” You hand reached out to grab Sylus’s as you stood beside him. “Father, I love him.” Those words finally broke the camel’s back as your father pulled you away from Sylus. To your best ability you tried to resist but he managed to snatch you away from Sylus and two guards had to hold you back.

“Father! Please! He has done nothing wrong! You are making a mistake!” With the grasps of the royal guards. He didn’t say another word as he waved his hand as a signal to the guards to take you inside. You struggled and pulled as they took you away, but your sight never left Sylus.

“My daughter is not to be around a monster like you, and I cannot believe this has been happening under my nose for this long. Whatever you think you have with her you can forget it because it does not exist. Now as king of this land I hereby declare you banish from setting foot on this soil. If I or anyone on this estate catch any sight of you there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?” Sylus smirk dropped as he crossed his arms and moved his tail back and forth.

“And if I don’t?” he questioned the king with a stern look in his eyes.

“Consider this a warning.” Numerous bows and bullets rang through the night towards Sylus that was heard by you. With all the strength you had you managed to free yourself and run in the opposite direction back to the garden. Tears filled your eyes as you don’t know the outcome you will see. The guards were a little far behind you, but they were catching up.

Before you could turn the corner red and black clouds exploded into the air sending some of the knights flying. The guards stopped in their tracks as they saw the same and then ran past you to help your father. Your father was on the ground, but he wasn’t badly hurt. When you turned to the corner you saw all the bows and bullets incinerated on the ground. Looking up, you saw Sylus was stern faced but you know he was upset as the markings on his body darkened and the gem on his chest was glowing brightly.

You made your way to him, but you were stopped with the guards caught you by your arms. The tears were still falling as did your best to get out the grip of the two men. Sylus was silent as he looked towards you but then you heard a voice inside your head.

“Nothing will keep us apart princess. My love to you is genuine just as your love is to me. Don’t worry, we will see each other again. I promise.” Those last words made you cry even harder as you watched Sylus float into the air before turning away.

“Sylus! No please! Don’t go!” Your face was drenched with tears and your heart ached as you lost the energy to fight back. The knights that were on the ground were recovering and your father was being helped by a guard that came running from his post nearby. Pulling away from the guard he walked over to you.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He reached out to hug you, but you pushed him away. The look of confusion was on his face as he stayed still where he stood.

“I will never forgive you for this.” All in your eyes were tears and hurt as you could not believe what just happened. Everyone was confused as to why you were so upset, especially your father.

“What do you mean? I just saved your life from that monstrosity!”

“Monstrosity?! He is far from that and if were to get to know him you would know.” The look that came on your father’s was a look you never saw before.

“How can you defend a monster like him. Did you not just see what he has done?!” His voice rose when he spoke but that did not stop your voice from raising.

“Yes, I’m not blind and frankly he was only defending himself since you threatened him.”

“You cannot be serious? There are so many honorable royal heirs to be fond of and of all the ones who have come of age you choose that beast. How can my own daughter find love in that?” The look of disgust was all over your face as you feel more hot tears fall down your cheeks.

“It’s very simple father but it seems like you won’t understand so why should I give you an explanation.” The tears finally stopped but the look on your father’s face never changed. No more words were exchanged as you huffed past the guards and your father. For the rest of the night, you lay in your bed and repeated the words Sylus said to you in your head.

This was the first time you ever said you loved someone more than a friend. To you Sylus was different, you felt he filled a certain spot within your heart. With dried tears and heavy eyes, you curled up in your sheets and fell asleep with Magnus wrapped tightly in your arms.

Months went by from that night, and you haven’t seen any sight of Sylus. No matter how many times you walk under the tree and sit there he never came. Time flew by so quickly that you forgot about your coronation. It was bought up to you a few times and you convened with your parents and other regal personnels about the preparations, but your mind was never into it.

Just like now as you sat at your vanity writing in your diary. After writing your thoughts down you did not realize what day it was until you dated the page. You hummed softly as you closed your diary and put your pen down.

“Happy Birthday Sylus… wherever you are.” It breaks your heart that you couldn’t spend time with him on his birthday instead of going to this coronation, but this is what you were born into so might as well get it over with. Looking at mirror you gave yourself a small grin. You are not going to be a princess much longer and to give it more thought, being a queen doesn’t sound bad. After admiring yourself in the mirror there was a knock on your bedroom door.

“Your Royal Highness it is time.”

As time went on the coronation began and everyone from the kingdom and nearby villages were gathered in the palace. Witnessing a change in history and a huge change in your life but something was odd. Looking among the mass of people, their eyes were all on you, but you had a feeling that someone was watching. By the time the evening rolled around the feeling never went away. Now here you are still dressed in your royal attire greeting the other royal families in the dance hall. Your parents decided to host a gathering so the other royal families will get a chance to meet you personally.

They were genuinely nice people, but a few were trying to introduce you to their sons and nephews. That didn’t set well with you, but you had to keep it to yourself. Looking amongst the crowd everyone was talking, drinking, and eating to their hearts content but after today you are done interacting with people. The feeling of someone watching you grew stronger now, and it was making you uncomfortable. Turning to your mother, you saw she was talking to your father.

“Mother may I retired to my room?” you asked.

Your mother was giggling from something your father said before she turned towards you.

“The night is still young dear. Is something matter?” she asked with concern.

“Yes, I am not feeling well and everything is spinning. If it is all right I would like to retire to my room. I do not want to cause a scene if something happens.” You just lied through your teeth but that didn’t stop your mother from getting more worried.

“Sure, you can.” You smiled as you began to walk away before your father noticed you walking away. Before he got your attention your mother explained what happened and he understood. Everyone didn’t notice you walking out as you quickly made way down the quiet hallway. Not a person in sight, even with the guards being on patrol you didn’t see them.

The feeling was gone, which was a relief to you, but once you started to walk up the stairs to your room it came back. The panic that settled in your heart was intense as your heels clicked against the waxed floor. Just before you opened the door you looked around to see if anyone was following you but there was no one. Shaking your head you pushed your door open and then locked it once you were inside.

Your heart was beating against your chest as you put your back against the door and took deep breaths to calm yourself. Now, being in your room alone you can finally relax. Bit by bit you began to strip yourself out of the dress and royal jewels. Your entire body felt a keen sense of relief once the tight undergarments were off your body. Deciding to take a bath you went walking towards your bathroom without worry but once the door was shut something mysterious happened.

Time passed until you walked out of the door with a towel wrapped around your frame. Opening your wardrobe, you grab the prettiest nightgown that you recently bought from the market before your coronation. A red silk gown with a dark lace that stopped just above your knees. If your parents were to see you in this nightgown, they would be furious but what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

Looking around your room everything was in place but when your eyes land on your bed something was wrong. Magnus wasn’t on the bed where you left him. Overturning the sheets and bedding you searched for him. Panic was starting to take over again as you looked everywhere within your room. Pacing back and forth you tried to remember if you moved him but everything was blank. Looking out towards your balcony you thought your imagination was playing tricks on you, but Magnus was outside on the ledge.

Quickly opening the glass door, you thought you could grab him before he fell but it was too late as he tilted backwards. As you looked over the ledge you didn’t see him anywhere on the lawn below but then that feeling returned. This time it was so strong that you felt a chill rub up your spine. Once you fully turned around you did your best not to scream as your eyes met two familiar red orbs. His tail coiled over Magnus, almost covering him entirely, as he held him in front of you.

“If you don’t want to take it from me just hold out your hands. Will that be easier for you?” The look of shock on your face turned into pure happiness as you felt yourself getting ready to cry.

“Sylus?” With his arms spread you didn’t wait another second to embrace him. As much as you thought this wasn’t real it was. Feeling your cheek against his chest and his arms and tail wrapping around you. Tears began to fall continuously down your face and a few dripped onto him. “I thought I would never see you again.” The warmth of his hand grabs your chin when you look up at him.

“I made a promise to you, and I stayed true to my word.” His clawed finger rubbed against your cheek as he admired your face. “Looks like today was the perfect day to come back. You look so beautiful your Majesty.” When you moved back you were flustered as you forgot what you were wearing. The way his eyes scanned your figure almost makes you want to melt into a puddle where you stood. It wasn’t long before you looked over the ledge just randomly to see your father speaking with one of the guards below.

With haste you opened your door to drag Sylus inside to avoid being in the eyesight of your father. Luck was on your side as when you moved him and yourself inside before he looked up at your balcony. Catching your breath, you pulled the curtains just enough to skew the view from below and locked the glass doors before you turned yourself back to Sylus. This was his first time seeing your bedroom, so he was intrigued by some of the things in it. You noticed that Magnus was still being held in his grasp and with his guard down maybe you can grab him.

Slowly walking up behind him he was admiring your shelf with different books and then proceeded to pull out. With the little distance you had you should be able to grab Magnus but when you tried you were pushed against the door with black and red mist surrounding you.

“Nice try sweetie but you know better than to sneak up behind me.” The sound of the book shutting echoed in your room as his attention is now on you. It was tough to remove yourself from the door as you stared at Sylus and him staring back at you. As he got closer the room began to get hot, yet you aren’t sweating. Not once did his gaze wondered off from yours as he got closer even when he was standing in front of you. It might have been the heat of the moment but once he was close enough you kissed him.

Sylus kissed back but the way you kissed was different from the kiss that happened months ago. He feels there is something more behind it like you are craving something. He too is craving the same thing because he deepens the kiss. With Magnus still being held in his tail he managed to set him on the shelf with him facing towards the books. When he pulled away and you looked at the shelf you snickered.

The tip of his tail sketched across your exposed thigh making you shiver. His lips barely touched your ear as you felt the heat fan over your ear. Once his tender lips touched your skin it made your eyes roll with pleasure the more, he trailed downward. Feeling his lips stop at your collarbone he pulled away with a grin as he looked into your eyes.

He didn’t respond to your question when he pulled away to look into your eyes. Before you could speak, he bent down to pick you up and held you in his arms bridal style. This wasn’t unusual but once you felt your back touch the bed the air was hot once more but once his lips touched yours it was hotter.

Your hands rubbed his chest until you wrapped them around his neck to bring him closer. Even with soft moans leaving your lips they still echoed within the room which was music to his ears. Once he pulled away his lips didn’t stop as he kissed your neck and made his way down. From your chest he stopped and held himself over until he pulled your leg close to his shoulder.

Your nightgown slid upward just enough for him to get a sneak peek at your core. With what little moonlight that was shining into the room he could see your wetness glisten and shimmer. You know he was looking and that’s when you took a chance to open your legs wider so he can get a better look.

“My, my princess I took you as the shy type.” His chuckled came from deep within his chest which made you walls twitch with glee.

“I’m not a princess anymore Sylus” you muttered. After saying that you felt yourself being turned over and now, he was on his back, and you were hovering over his lap.

“Oh, is that right?” he asked with his hands massaging your thighs. His hand moved higher until they rested on your hips where he rubbed small circles with his thumbs. “Well would the queen be up to taking a ride on her noble stead?” You were puzzled until you felt warm flesh twitching against you, but something was different.

“Y… You have two?” When you looked into his eyes he was smiling from ear to ear before chuckling to himself.

“Of course I do. I’m part dragon so it can’t be helped.” He grins at your reaction when you felt him twitch again. The thought of knowing he has two cocks was intimidating and interesting to say the least. Sylus watched as you lowered yourself to rub your lips against the tip of one of his cocks.

It was warm and to feel his precum starting to smother your lips was so erotic that you almost lost yourself. Sylus was enjoying the view as he hummed lowly now feeling your juices coat him. The more you grinded the more you could hear the essence mixing between the two of you. You were enjoying it but now you were getting a little impatient.

“Sy-Sylus” you whimpered. You position yourself to take in his first cock into your begging hole, but you felt his tail wrap around your waist.

“Easy my darling. There is no need to rush.” He extended the syllables of his last word as you felt his tail lift you up a little. Now you were hovering over his cocks with the tip barely touching your entrance. “Buuuut if you want me to fuck you so bad—” He stop mid-sentence to leaned up to press his lip against the top of your exposed breast. A simple peck that quickly changed into sucking and biting. You whimpered and moaned even more as his tips started to poke and rub both of your holes.

“Just say the word Your Highness. I’m yours to command” he whispered into your ear. The wetness from his precum was slick and slippery as at any moment he can slide in with ease. He did his best to hold the smirk on his face as he felt your clit starting to throb but fails when he caught himself purring with pleasure. With a hitch of your breath, you gathered enough brain power to speak.

“Sylus please I-I need you to fuck me.” Even with your voice being soft with your word he could see the way your eyes are so unfocused and pulsating cunt is throbbing harder than before. He didn’t say a word as you felt his tail lower you onto his cock. The tight feeling of his tip entering you wasn’t so bad but once you yourself stretch the more you took it was a whole new feeling. Feeling like you are going to split in two even with him taking his time to remember every inch of your insides.

The room was spinning and your vision blurred but you could still see his crimson eyes watching your every expression and his ears listening to every little noise you were making. While at that he was groaning softly at your walls welcoming him and feeling your warm essence coat his cock. Your hands reached up to grab his shoulders and grip them softly at first. He was puzzled at first then he watched as you began to move yourself up and down.

“Sweetie did you not listen to what I said earlier. We don’t have to rush.” His words flew past your ears as you slowly rode him as you felt yourself getting more comfortable with his size. The grip of his tail never let up as he started to lift you up and pull you back down. The most beautiful moan left your lips making him do it repeatedly. His grin grew and his groans got louder the more he felt your insides twitch and throb. His second cock was throbbing mad as more precum leaked from the tip from all the movement. You could feel it too as it was making you more feral to think it would feel so nice to have it inside you.

“Sy-s-sylus you can use the other one too.” Even with his mind elsewhere that didn’t stop him from feeling concerned.

“Sweetie I mean no disrespect, but you are barely getting used to my first cock. What makes you think you can handle two?” His voice was deep as he waited for you to answer while he continued to use you as a toy. You bit your inner cheek but something inside you was begging and wishing to have your other hole stuffed. You need him and you know he wouldn’t be against it.

“That may b-be true but you are falling apart just as much as I am. Am I right?” Using your lower strength, you squeezed him as much as you could which made him hiss which then turned into a growl. His eyes glowed with fiery before he raises you completely of his cock and put you on your stomach. His tail was quick to raise your hips, and his hands grabbed your wrists. His second cock was teasing your pussy while the first was sliding against your ass.

“For a newly appointed queen you sure are needy but what her highness wants her highness will get.” His hands traced up your thighs and past your hips until he was pushing your dress forward. “But first this needs to come off. I don’t want to ruin something that I want to see you wear again.” The silky material came off with ease as the dark mist pulled it over your head to be tossed onto the floor. Sylus didn’t waste as second as his hand pulled your ass apart to see both of your hole pleading for him to stuff them.

His lower cock was already making its way between your lips as he teased your other hole with his upper cock. “Take a deep breath for me love and tell me if it’s too much” he said to you before he began to make his way inside. You gripped the sheets tightly almost tearing into the fabric. The pressure with having both of his cocks inside led you to push your face into the mattress from this new feeling. Sylus was giving it his best effort to not moan too loud, but he failed when he when the tip was fully inside your second hole. Both of your breaths were uneven while adjusting to this newfound feeling but in the back of your mind it was worth it.

“Wanna keep going sweetie?” He huffed softly into your ear. You turn your face over just enough to speak clearly.

“Yes.” Your voice was barely over a whisper as he continued. Each push and pull sent chills up and down both of your spines as the pleasure was getting more intense. His rhythm was so gentle yet with each thrust you could feel it in your stomach.

“F-faster.” The change of pace caught you off guard but that didn’t stop you from moaning. Sylus sped up but something deep in his soul was craving more but he doesn’t want to hurt you. Looking down at your figure he watched as his cocks move so easily into your holes. A feeling so much better than using his own two hands. While he was looking down out of his peripheral vision, he saw your arm slide underneath you and felt your walls tighten around him. He doesn’t even have to guess what you were doing.

“You know you’re really something else princess. You’re taking in both of my cocks and yet here you are playing with your clit. Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He leaned over on your back making you lay flat on your bed. His cocks felt like they were reaching the deepest parts of you. You felt his hand reach under your face and cupped it against your neck. “If you can’t walk tomorrow don’t blame me.”

You don’t regret what you did as Sylus pulled out just enough to forcefully push back in making the headboard hit the wall. He did it repeatedly until he caught a rhythm that started to make your bed squeak and creak. You tried your best to cover your mouth with your opposite hand but his tail was holding it down.

“No sweetie I want to hear every single moan come out that pretty mouth and I don’t give a damn who hears.” He chuckled as he leaned close to your neck to kiss it before giving it a small nibble. He didn’t stop and the nibbles turned into tiny bites that will surely leave marks later. Your mind ceases to exist as you moans were louder than before. It was a strong possibly that anyone that would walk past your door would hear everything, but you didn’t want it to stop. In that moment you could feel Sylus’s breathing stagger as you felt his cocks starting to swell. The only words that you could speak was his name. Your climax was getting closer and closer, and you wanted to tell him, but your brain was scrambled.

“F-fuck such greedy holes wanting my cocks so bad I have a feeling you don’t want me to pull out.” Sylus felt both of your holes quivering at his statement making him snicker. “Is that what you want? Hmm? Want me to breed you so full that you would be leaking for days?” You nodded your head only hearing the words breed and full, which only made him quicken his pumps. You moans were echoing off the walls just as much as the noises from underneath you both were getting louder.

In mid-thrust you couldn’t hold on to your climax as you began to shake and gasp. Sylus was right behind you as he cocks swell until he pushed as deep as he could. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the noises from your mouth deafened. Sylus was growling into your neck but then you could hear him purring. Both holes getting battered with his cum and all you could do was take it all. The adrenaline within your body was decreasing steadily as you couldn’t hold yourself up and more. Sylus was there laying your back not moving a muscle but the throbbing from his cocks was still going.

Even with two cocks you didn’t think it would be that much but of course he is not human. You don’t know how long it was before you felt Sylus calm down before he pulled out of you. All you knew was the warmth from his body left and your back was exposed to the semi-cool air.

Sylus stood on his knees as he watched both of your filled holes leak of his cum. It was a lot but what he left inside couldn’t compare. With the stamina he had left he moved from your bed to find your bathroom. The sound of running water reached your ears as you felt yourself slipping away into slumber. All you could remember was two arms scooping you up and holding you. You moaned softly as your muscles were starting to ache.

“Shhh I got you.” He kissed your forehead gently making you relax in his arms once more as he walked you inside. After the warm bath you didn’t even realize you were back in your bed but once you felt Sylus snuggle close to you that was the only thing that mattered. The room was quiet and still as you laid on Sylus’s arm drifting off into dreamland. Sylus was battling his tiredness, but he wanted to stay awake to bask in this moment.

Cuddling you so close in your most vulnerable state listening to your soft breathing. Soon the battle was lost as he closed his eyes and pulled you closer with his tail curling behind him. Both of you lay with bodies relaxed, not knowing what’s going to happen once both of you wake up. That doesn’t matter now. All that matters is the two of you are together again at last.

Feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog. Please DO NOT repost or copy any of the stories I create/created anywhere else. ©Precious Amethyst

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Starting a campaign💪

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the warm sun & her austere moon (rhaenys & visenya)

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okay... jack abbots girlies, I have a new fic idea for you

imagine being jack's new (and young) girlfriend and having to deal with the shadow of his dead wife

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He’s so pretty, I can’t!

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──── Morpheus┆Cupid's heart author's note: I'm finally free from author's block, expect more Morpheus one shots and drabbles (if my laziness won't kill me this time). This work contains: fluff, reader being Morpheus' past lover, kisses (¬‿¬), them both being idiot (still) in love, mention of past sexual encounters. Morpheus x cupid!reader mdni

your hair was neat yet you just had to fix it one more time before stepping into the palace. he always liked them in a mess, sticking in different directions, like you would just wake up but still laid in bed – preferably next to him. and you remembered the way his fingers threaded through them, playing with the ends, curling strands on his finger or as his knuckles would softly smooth the feathers of your white, little wings while you laid there with your cheek squeezed against the pillow – the comfiest, most perfect pillow you ever had an opportunity to sleep on.

you always got the best sleep in the Dreaming, in the palace, in his bed. In his soft, perfect bed, that smelled so sweet and inviting. maybe it was why you were constantly coming back to it. 

to his bed.

into his arms.

he always managed to make your stupid, little heart beat faster, to make it do this stupid, quick rhythm he loved to listen to so much. 

stupid, little cupid.

and now.

now your hair was neat, no strands sticking away, you didn’t come here to sleep in his bed and in his arms, you came to see who will get hell after Lucifer announced her retirement. you came right after Odin and his… sons. 

“I’m–” your lips opened before Lucienne managed to cut into your sentence – stupid of you to think she wouldn’t remember you, even after such a long time.

“my lady.” she bowed her head, and you felt a lump in your throat.

“no Lucienne, please…” a sad smile bloomed on your lips as she nodded with understanding.

“have you come to seek the right to hell?” she asked and it made you want to chuckle.

You always had a bright smile, that kind of one that brought joy between the gloomy palace’s halls. that kind of one that made even Merv crack a fond smirk into your direction. now it seemed almost cold, like your departure caused the Dreaming to lose some part of its spark. like the part of it was depended on you and your emotions just like it was depended on his. on his mood, on his fondness, happiness, anger, grief or this feeling of numbness when the sky would turn into a deep shade of grey. 

a well without the bottom that you were falling into.

“I think my duties alone are time consuming enough.” 

“right…” she nodded only before writing something down.

“I came to… watch… if I can, of course.”

“you’re always will be welcome here, my lady,”

you can always smile sadly again, passing her on your way to stand behind one of the columns, hidden in the dark, your wings folded close to your back. you haven’t been welcome here for a long time already.

by the time the banquet starts you see him only once but his voice… gods. you feel it in every fiber of your being – dark and raspy, commanding but patient. you shivered at his slow tone, your wings fluttered and you wanted to get swallowed by the ground at the same time. He could always undo you by words only – and whenever he did, you would fall apart before he could even do anything. the whispered words, lips brushing against your ear and the way he was touching your wings. you would cling to him as he did that – desperately, intensely – one hand on the nape of his neck, threading through his hair, fingers swift like yours when they would play with a string of your bow. another one on his back, your nails leaving marks on his skin – that was so pale as it would absorb the moonlight itself. and this dance would last for hours, dance of hands, lips, exchanged glances, words of affection.

“anything for you, sweet dove?” Taramis’ voice pulled you from memories, dreams, the cook stood before you and your cheeks turned pinkish as the thought of her staring at you while your gaze was fixed on the plate appeared in your mind.

“I–...” no, thank you, you wanted to say, your lips were already forming into the shy no you were always using before you met with her warm gaze, almost awaiting. you knew her love for cooking, you gave it to her centuries ago when she stumbled from Faerie to the Dreaming. and you just couldn’t say no when you knew how much joy it would bring her – especially when on a daily basis she wasn’t much of a need for him. “meringue cake with rose sauce and strawberries does sound nice.” you smiled at the way her eyes lit up immediately and a knowing smile appeared on her face.

“of course, my lady.” she bowed in the same manner Lucienne did earlier and you only inhaled uncomfortably. 

my lady.

you weren’t their lady, you weren’t that in a long time. not since the argument, not since your and his screaming echoed through the whole palace and you took your things and left it, left the Dreaming, left him.

Him.

And now he. now Morpheus was watching all of the guests and you were pretending that you didn’t see him lingering there above you all, behind the railing. watching.

you?

the rest of the guests?

you?

he was always watching, always eyeing when he thought no one was looking. adoring you when he thought you didn’t see. speaking only when needed. stoically – the real heat in his voice appeared when his hands could worship your body in the same way his eyes did. 

Tamaris arrived out of nowhere again. setting the plate with the cloud looking cake on before you, with the same soft smile you knew so well.

“I added some extra.” she added, sending you a sidelong knowing gaze. “those in love tend to crave something sweet, people say love itself is sweet.”

“i know how love taste.” your wings fluttered gently behind you as you looked at her. 

“oh right, sweet dove.” she smiled “enjoy your love cake” 

sweet, sweet love. bitter, bitter love.

when your arrow always hits the spot perfectly, your heart does not choose well. or maybe it does but you’re too stubborn to listen to it.

you took a first bite – sweet, warming – another one – you looked up at Morpheus. 

before you could even realize your legs were leading you to the side of the room, up the stairs. you saw his profile, his nose, sharp jaw, this wild hairstyle he always wore. 

you weren’t sure if he even acknowledged your presence by his side. not before your wings fluttered nervously again and he finally turned his head to the side. 

“Cupid” he said and bowed his head gently. 

“Dream King” you bowed back, fidgeting nervously, his eyes were harsh, like he still held the grudge against you — even after all this time. 

even though it still made you inhale — his gaze now was different from those he was giving you when your love was still fresh. caring, protective, adoring. 

“forgive me if I entered your realm unwelcome” 

“nonsense” he said and stepped to the side, clearly expecting you to follow him. “it’s your home.”

his steps were measured, careful as you followed him into the halls. you could see that his shoulders were tense as your eyes slid over his form. his body was tense. ready like you would be about to start an uncomfortable conversation, scratch the old wound.

and you were actually about to.

you wandered off to the paintings gallery – far from where you were supposed to be. they were breathtaking, just like you remembered them – the painting, of course – but he was too. tall and–

“you came.” his words were cold, but also… a hint of surprise was buried deep down and maybe it was blooming with every passing second you spend in the Dreaming.

maybe.

maybe.

maybe it wasn’t surprise.

maybe it was hope.

but it was growing, blooming like the flowers in the garden that Tamaris was serving now to the faeries. 

“I owe you an apology.” 

he looked over his shoulder. really looked at you. at you. 

“I fail to understand why.” 

“for… for speaking to you… in such a disrespect.” your voice was unsure, if not your fingers messing with the fabric of your gown, to release tension it would be shaky, maybe you would even be on the verge of tears. you were always so sensitive. “I should not… I never should’ve spoken to you in that way.”

he was silent when your gaze fell on the marble floor, your eyes filled with too much emotions, emotions so raw that if you’d look at him, no words would ever leave your mouth. your little, little heart was drumming in your chest and you thought that it might start and try to beat it’s way through your ribs and skin and run away. your wings folded so tight by your back a thought, that they’ll never flutter again, crossed your mind.

and then you understood that your heart was not beating to make it’s way out. it was crushing at the memory of love that it was once filling it.

“you made me see myself for what I truly am.” this stoic tone you never fail to recognize, now holding sincerity. “and that… that was what made me so furious… because I never intended to hurt you in such a way.” 

you were stunned, by his vulnerability, by his sincerity, by the way his eyes softened while he looked at you. like they did in those mornings, when you would lay together in his bed, hand in your hair, lips on your skin, heart by your heart. 

“and I am… sorry.” he said – his voice strained and dripping with rawness.

you stood there – stunned. your eyes glancing right into his. into the two depths, where you swore sometimes you saw stars trapped there.

“so am I.” 

something shifted in his expression before his hand hesitantly lifted to run through your hair again. messing it up. and it felt good, it felt so good. it felt good like coming home, coming to something you know, coming to something you love. your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a quiet gasp as you felt his fingers running through your strands.

your hand sneaked on the back of his neck, inhaling as your eyes snapped open to look at him. his body pressed closer, as his heart pressed against yours again. steady beat that only purpose of to remind you both how the distance had left you numb and broken. Cupid – the goddess of love not serving the purpose she was created for and King of Dreams neglecting his duties because his dreams shattered. now brought back together, in your home, in your arms, your embrace. 

one moment you were looking at each and next… his lips, or maybe your lips pressed against the other ones. the kiss was delicate, meaningful, caring. it was like this time hasn’t passed. like you would still wake up surrounded by the cotton, like you would still fly back to the Dreaming, land on his balcony and let yourself be pulled into his arms. with every second gentle and sweet was turning into desperate and needy.

you didn’t want to pull away, but when he did, you couldn’t help but rest your head on his collarbone seeking closeness of his again. his addictive closeness, utter bliss of being held by the personification of all you ever dreamed of. 

“stay.” he said, his fingers still wrapped into your hair. “in the Dreaming.” he added. “with me and I will be… good for you.” 

“I’m a Cupid.” your voice was muffled by the fabric of his coat you were now pressing lips into. “I need to be set free.” you said. “sometimes.”

he stared into your eyes intently as if thinking of his next words. “this is the realm of Dream” he breathed. “it’s where dreams come true.”

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IM SAT

THE ADDAMS FAMILY²

Morpheus x f!Addams reader (established relationship)

Summary: The Addams family is growing but this time so is the Endless. Or a mini series of pregnant Addams!reader.

[coming on this october]

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when they have a mechanical arm 😫😫 >>>

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cw: scissoring, grinding, fingering, sugar baby!reader, sugar mommy!sevika, wealthy sevika, switch sevika, switch reader, too much plot, plot longer than smut, slow burn, slowly fall for each other, miscommunication, make-up sex,

words: 13.1k

—Million dollar woman.

The first time you meet, the bar smells like oak and whiskey. Low jazz curling in the corners like cigarette smoke.

ou’re perched on one of the high stools, knees crossed, the hem of your dress skimming just enough skin to draw glances you don’t bother returning.

The fabric clings like a secret. It’s the most expensive thing you own, bought for nights exactly like this.

Nights when the lighting is warm enough to flatter everyone, the glasses are crystal, and the people around you don’t care if you belong, as long as you look like you do.

As long as you look good enough to be there.

You’re mid-laugh with one of your friends when you see her.

A few stools down, toward the end of the bar, surrounded by a cluster of coworkers, judging by their loosened ties and flushed cheeks, their laughter a little too loud. She doesn’t laugh, not exactly, just smirks, listening, as though everything’s mildly amusing to her.

A half-empty glass of whiskey rests in her grip, and she holds it like she’s got nowhere else to be.

The suit is the first thing you notice. Charcoal.

Tailored so sharp it could cut you. It fits across her shoulders like it was made just for her, probably was. Underneath, a crisp white shirt, a button or two undone, showing a strip of collarbone and the faint glint of a chain.

Then there’s the cigarette. Resting between her fingers like it belongs there, glowing faintly every time she draws it to her lips. You can almost smell the smoke from here.

But it’s the Rolex that makes you pause. Gold and steel, heavy on her wrist, glinting every time she moves. You know the price tag without having to look it up. You know how fucking expensive a Rolex like that is.

That’s not just money, it’s wealth.

Your gaze drifts upward again, and she catches you looking.

It’s not a casual glance, it’s direct. Heavy enough to pin you in place.

She tilts her head like she’s taking you in, like she’s letting herself look too.

Broad shoulders. A mech arm, only the sleek metal hand visible around her glass. Dark hair swept back. Her mouth quirks, just barely, a half-smile that feels like a secret, like she already knows you.

It’s disturbing.

You look away, heat licking the back of your neck.

You tell yourself it’s not about the watch. Or the suit. Or the way she wears both like they’re just another skin.

It’s her.

And when you chance another glance, she’s still looking.

Your friends are still talking, voices a pleasant blur in the background, but your attention is drawn taut like a wire between you and her. She leans back in her stool, taking a slow sip of whiskey, never breaking eye contact.

It feels like an invitation. Or a warning.

You blink a few times, drag your gaze away, and force yourself into the conversation again, smiling, nodding, laughing when your friends do.

You’re good at that, slipping back into the moment even when your head is elsewhere.

But every time your glass tips to your lips, you’re aware of her. You can almost hear her.

The sound of her low chuckle with her coworkers. The slow inhale of her cigarette. The weight of her attention still clinging to you, even when you’re not looking.

Eventually, your friends say they want to go back home, but you don’t follow them.

You tell them you will call them if you don’t have a uber or if you don’t want come back alone.

You hug them and watch them go with a smile on your face, waving your hand one last time as one of them send you a flying kiss.

Then you’re alone at the bar.

You reach for your drink, thinking about scrolling your phone to fill the space.

A stool scrapes beside you.

You glance over. And there she is.

Up close, she’s even taller, the breadth of her shoulders more obvious in that sharp suit.

The heat of her presence is immediate, like she takes up more than just the seat next to you. She sets her whiskey down, a faint clink of glass on wood, and you catch the flash of that Rolex again, its weight a quiet statement.

“Evening,” she says, voice low, rough in a way that makes your skin tighten.

You turn fully to her, and for a heartbeat, you forget what you were going to say.

But you recover. You always do.

“…Evening,” you echo, and your voice is steady, like you’re not sitting inches from the kind of woman who makes your pulse skip.

Her eyes hold yours.

She doesn’t glance away, doesn’t look at you form head to toe in that obvious way men sometimes do. No, she studies you like she’s already memorizing you.

It’s not that you’re not intimidated; you are.

The warmth in your cheeks betrays you. But your shoulders stay square, your chin tilted up just enough to meet her gaze head-on.

Because you’re not looking at your shoes for anyone.

She smirks, slow and deliberate, like she sees the blush and the steel underneath it, and she approves.

“What’s your drink?” she asks.

“Depends who’s asking,” you say before you can stop yourself.

That earns you a soft huff of laughter, and she leans in just slightly, close enough for you to catch the scent of her cologne, smoke threaded through it.

“Someone,” she murmurs, “who might buy the next one.”

Your lips curve into the faintest smile, not enough to look overeager, but enough to give you away if she’s paying attention.

And she is. She’s watching like every shift in your expression matters.

“Martini,” you tell her, voice smooth. Then, after a beat, “Should I get you one too?”

It’s not just a line, it’s genuine. A small offer slipped in without thinking.

And for a second, she just looks at you, like you’ve surprised her.

Then she laughs.

Not the polite kind, not a restrained chuckle.

It’s low, raw, and dark, curling through you like smoke.

“Sweetheart…” she says, and the way the word rolls off her tongue makes you feel like you’ve been claimed. “That’s cute.”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t look away.

“Cute?” you ask, one brow lifting.

Her smirk deepens. “You offering to buy my drink. I like that.” She shifts closer, elbows on the bar, her gaze steady and hot.

“But you won’t be paying for anything tonight.”

The bartender approaches, and she orders without looking away from you. “Martini,” she says for you. Then, “Whiskey. Neat.”

It’s deliberate, the way she says it.

Like she’s already decided you’re hers for the evening, whether you’ve agreed or not.

In no time, the bartender sets the martini in front of you, crystal-clear with a single twist of lemon. Sevika’s whiskey lands beside it.

You lift your glass, fingers steady, the stem cool against your skin.

Her eyes track the movement.

Not subtly, not hiding the way she’s watching you taste something she’s just bought for you.

You take a slow sip, and it’s perfect. Crisp, clean, fresh, burns a bit at the back of your throat. The kind of drink that makes you want to cross your legs and smile like your purse is heavy.

When you set it down, she’s still watching.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, leaning just a fraction closer, her voice dipping low enough that it hums in your chest.

You shrug one shoulder, lips twitching. “Thought you’d read it in my eyes.”

That earns you another one of those laughs. Low and rough, warm as smoke.

She looks at you like she’s re-evaluating, like you’ve just turned into a more interesting puzzle.

Her gaze lingers on your face, deliberate. “What are you?” she asks suddenly.

You blink, then tilt your head. “Hm… A human being,” you say slowly.

She smirks. “Cute. Try again.”

You pretend to think, eyes narrowing in mock concentration. “A woman,” you say at last, letting the word linger. Then, a faint grin. “Particularly.”

For a second, her smirk turns into something sharper, amusement threaded with interest, like you’ve just passed a test you didn’t know you were taking.

Her metal fingers tap the bar once, a soft metallic sound, before she lifts her whiskey.

“Particularly,” she repeats, like she’s tasting the word.

You clink your glass against hers without looking away.

The faint clink of glass fades, and she doesn’t move her hand right away.

Instead, her metal knuckles rest lightly against your knee.

Not enough to be forward, but enough to make you aware of every inch of space between you.

You don’t flinch. You don’t even look down. You take another sip of your martini, letting the cool bite of it sit on your tongue before you speak.

“I’m not…” you start, voice casual, “working.”

Her brow lifts. “No?”

You shake your head, setting the glass down with care. “Still in school. Last year. Getting my MA in art history.”

There’s a pause, just long enough for her to take in the sight of you saying that here, in this bar with crystal glasses and leather stools.

Her gaze flicks to your mouth, then down to where her Rolex glints on her wrist.

You know she’s doing the math.

How the watch on her arm is worth as much as your tuition.

“Art history,” she says, the words slow, deliberate. “That explains the way you look at things.”

The corner of your mouth curves. “And how’s that?”

She leans in, her hand still warm and solid against your knee, voice low enough to curl around you. “Like you’re deciding whether you want to admire them or own them.”

You close your eyes for a second, tilt your head at her, lips quirking. “That line… was cheesy,” you say, voice warm with amusement.

Her smirk widens like she’s been caught.

“But,” you add, swirling what’s left of your martini, “it worked.”

She leans back slightly, looking far too pleased with herself. The kind of satisfaction that comes from getting exactly the reaction she wanted.

Your gaze drops briefly to the watch again before you meet her eyes.

“So,” you say, “what about you? What do you do… besides sit in expensive bars buying strangers drinks?”

The metal fingers against your knee shift just a little, like she’s aware of exactly where your attention is, and how she’s got it.

She takes a slow sip of whiskey before answering. “I manage people.”

It’s vague. Deliberate. The kind of answer that says nothing but makes you imagine everything.

“Manage people,” you echo, drawing the words out. “That sounds… very mob boss of you.”

She smiles, not denying it, not confirming it. Just letting the idea hang there between you.

“Let’s just say I make sure things run the way they’re supposed to.”

“And those things are…?” you press, teasing.

Her gaze locks on yours, steady, heat threaded through it. “Lucrative.”

It’s not an answer, not really, but the way she says it makes your skin hum.

You sip your martini, letting the gin settle warm in your chest. “Well,” you say lightly, “guess I’m talking to a hitman or something. That’s… endearing.”

Her mouth curves. Not a grin, not quite a smirk, just enough for you to know she’s entertained.

“Endearing,” she repeats, voice dry. “Haven’t heard that one before.”

You shrug. “Guess I’m just like that.” Then, tipping your head toward her drink, you add, “So, you gonna tell me what you actually do, or…?”

She shakes her head slowly, that damn Rolex catching the light again as she sets her glass down. “Nice try.”

And then she leans in, close enough that the scent of smoke and whiskey settles around you. “But you’ve been trying to turn the questions on me since I sat down, sweetheart. Doesn’t change the fact I’ve been watching you since the moment you walked in.”

Your pulse skips, but you keep your face composed, your chin tilted in that same deliberate way.

“Oh?” you ask, steady.

Her gaze drags over your face.

Not in a crude way, but in that focused, evaluative way you’ve only ever seen in people who know exactly what they want.

“You touched the strap of your dress when you first sat. Crossed your legs right after. Didn’t take your eyes off the bottles behind the bar for a solid ten seconds before you even glanced at the people in here.”

It’s not just that she noticed. It’s that she remembers.

And she’s telling you.

The turn you take is unexpected.

You rest your elbow on the bar, turning toward her fully now, matching her lean with your own.

“And what exactly,” you ask, voice steady, “are you trying to do here? Intimidate me?”

Her smirk flickers, almost like she’s amused you’d even bring it up.

“Or,” you continue, letting your gaze sweep over her in one slow, deliberate pass, “are you… just trying to make it clear you’re more than interested?”

Your eyes are not sharp. Your voice is still soft.

You’re not just holding her ground, you’re flipping the script right back at her.

For the first time, there’s a pause, a split-second beat where her eyes narrow, like she’s reassessing.

“Careful, sweetheart,” she says softly.

You smile faintly, ignoring the warning in her tone. “I noticed a few things too.”

Her brow arches. “Oh?”

“You don’t laugh at half the jokes your coworkers tell you. You keep your drink in your left hand because your right…” your eyes flick briefly to the mech hand resting on your knee “draws too much attention. And that shirt,” You tilt your head. “You unbuttoned an other button after I looked at you.”

The corner of her mouth twitches, but it’s not the same easy smirk as before.

It’s something sharper. Appraising.

She studies you for a long moment, then huffs out a quiet laugh, like she’s decided you’re both more trouble and more interesting than she expected.

“This,” she says, almost to herself, “isn’t gonna be what I’m used to.”

At your first, official date, the restaurant is all white tablecloths and soft lighting, the kind of place where the waiters move like shadows and the wine list is thicker than a novel.

You’ve been aware of the numbers on the menu since you sat down, but you’re not about to let it ruin your night.

Sevika’s been… different tonight. Still sharp in her suit, still wearing that watch that probably costs more than your rent for a year, but warmer. Laughing, leaning in when you speak, her gaze lingering in a way that makes the room fade out around her.

She doesn’t talk about money. She doesn’t have to. It’s clear.

By the time the plates are cleared, you’re full, both on the food and the low hum of tension between you.

The waiter glides up with the card reader, polite smile in place, and you can see the way Sevika’s already reaching for her wallet.

You don’t think. You just slip your credit card from your clutch and snap it lightly against the machine before she can hand hers over.

The sound makes her head turn.

For the briefest second, her eyes widen. It’s not shock so much as… recalculation.

“Sweetheart,” she says slowly, like she’s testing the word in this new context, “what are you doing?”

“Paying for my half,” you say simply, voice even.

Her brows draw together, not in anger but in something sharper. Surprise, maybe even intrigue. “That’s not how I planned this.”

You hand the waiter your card, ignoring the weight of her stare. “We don’t always get what we want.”

She leans back in her chair, watching you like she’s seeing you all over again. “No,” she says finally, low and certain. “we don’t.”

And she sounds… thrilled about it.

The night air is cool when you step outside, the city humming softly around you.

Sevika walks beside you, her hands in her pockets, every inch of her still radiating that quiet control, even though you’d just swiped it out from her at dinner.

She doesn’t look annoyed.

She looks… charged.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” she says at last, glancing down at you.

“I wanted to,” you reply, meeting her gaze without hesitation.

Her smirk returns, slow and edged. “You’re not gonna make this easy for me, are you?”

You hum. “Think it depends on what you’re trying to do.”

She huffs out a soft laugh, shaking her head like she’s half-exasperated, half-impressed. “Most people would’ve let me pay. Hell—most people expect it.”

“Yeah,” you say, watching the way the streetlight catches in her hair, “I’m starting to get that.”

And that’s when it clicks. The watch. The suit. The bar. The way she talks about “managing people” without ever explaining it.

You stop walking, turning to face her fully. “You were gonna take care of me, weren’t you?”

Her brow lifts, but she doesn’t deny it.

“Like… all of me,” you add, blunt. “Not just tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence, her gaze locked on yours, and then she steps in, just close enough that the air between you sharpens. “And if I was?” she asks, voice low.

You feel the heat in your cheeks, but your voice stays steady. “Then I guess I should ask what exactly that means… and what you’re expecting in return.”

Her smirk deepens into something darker, more deliberate. “Now that’s the right question, sweetheart.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver. If anything, it sharpens, like she’s measuring your reaction to every second that passes.

“What it means,” she says finally, “is that you wouldn’t have to think about things like splitting the bill again.”

It’s casual, almost offhand. But there’s weight behind it.

“And what you’d be expecting in return?” you press.

Her smirk tilts, almost dangerous. “Time. Your company. The occasional evening where you wear something that makes me lose focus.”

It’s not a full answer. But it’s enough.

Before you can respond, she steps in that last inch, her hand, warm and solid. The faint chill of metal threaded through, finding the small of your back.

She doesn’t pull you in, doesn’t make a scene. Just lets her presence settle over you, steady and certain.

Her voice dips low, meant only for you. “I take care of the things that get in the way. You take care of keeping me interested. Fair trade, don’t you think?”

Your breath catches, not because you’re shocked, but because you understand. Finally.

A sugarmommy.

It sounds so easy when she explains it.

But you know yourself, you don’t jump without looking. You’ll need time.

Time to figure out if you want what she’s offering… and if you can handle it.

So you smile, slow and careful. “Maybe I’ll let you explain it over another date.”

Her thumb brushes lightly against your back before she lets her hand fall away. “Good. I’m patient.”

And for the first time tonight, you wonder just how patient you’ll be.

The same night, She’s just stepped out of the shower when her phone buzzes on the nightstand. Hair damp, towel slung low on her hips, she swipes the screen without thinking.

‘I like you better when you’re not trying to intimidate or seduce me. Tonight was amazing.’

‘Sorry to say, you found a sentimental girl.’

For a second, she just stands there, thumb hovering over the glass, water still dripping from her hair.

Not trying to intimidate or seduce.

She’s never had anyone call that out before. Much less prefer her without it.

Her first instinct is to smirk, to toss back something teasing, keep it light.

But instead she feels… off balance. Not in a bad way. More like she’s been shifted out of the role she thought she was playing.

Most girls she takes out want the theater, the show of it.

The watch, the suit, the bill slid across the table without a blink. They eat it up, lean into it, give her exactly what she expects.

What she wants.

But this one?

This one sits in a bar with her knees steady under her hand, pays her own bill in a place where she doesn’t belong, and then tells her she liked it better when she was warm.

It’s ridiculous. And it’s infuriating. And it’s…

God, it’s interesting.

She leans against the dresser, typing with slow precision.

Sentimental, huh? I can work with that.

She almost leaves it there. Almost. But then her fingers move again.

‘You’re going to make me learn you the hard way, aren’t you?’

She hits send before she can think about why she’s smiling.

She gives you the choice of the place for your second date.

Sevika shows up sharp as ever. Dark shirt, hair tied back, Rolex glinting like punctuation on her wrist.

When she told you to pick the place, she half expected some quiet little restaurant, maybe a gallery if you wanted to lean into the art thing.

She did not expect the mall.

“Really?” she murmurs as you slip your hand through the crook of her arm. “This is where you want to spend our evening?”

“Mmhm,” you hum, “You said anywhere.”

Her eyes flick to the polished storefronts around you. Jewelry dripping diamonds, high-end lingerie behind spotlit glass, designer clothes that cost more than some people’s rent.

She knows this territory. This is where her money talks loudest.

So when you tug her toward the jewelry display, she’s not surprised.

She slows, already ready to tell the clerk, wrap it up.

Except you don’t stop.

You just glance at the glittering cases and keep walking, humming under your breath like it was background noise.

She arches a brow but says nothing.

Lingerie shop.

She’s certain you’ll pull her in, tease her with lace and silk.

But you glide right past, tugging her toward the neon sign of a café kiosk tucked in the corner of the food court.

You order a ridiculous drink. Something pink, piled with whipped cream, sprinkles melting into the foam. When it comes, you take a careful sip, then grin, lips dusted with sugar.

Sevika stares at you, silent for a long moment. Then she finally says, “You do realize I was prepared to drop a small fortune tonight, right?”

You blink at her. “Your fault for assuming I wanted that.”

The smirk she gives you is faint, but it doesn’t hide the surprise in her eyes.

She’s dealt with plenty of girls who would’ve dragged her straight into the diamond store, let her spoil them without a second thought. She expected it. Counted on it. Because she choose her girls right.

But you? You’re content walking beside her, sipping your sugar-sweet drink, holding her arm like it’s the only luxury you need.

And she can’t help but wonder, does she even get what I’m offering?

Or worse. Does she, and she’s just refusing to play it the way I’m used to?

Sevika leans against the little café counter, watching you sip your ridiculous pink drink like it’s the finest wine on the menu.

Sprinkles cling to the whipped cream, sugar dotting your lips, and you look like you’re having the time of your life.

She can’t help herself. “You know this isn’t exactly what I meant when I said I’d take care of things.”

You glance up at her, straw still between your lips, and grin. “Oh, I know.”

Her brow furrows just slightly, the Rolex on her wrist catching the light as she folds her arms. “Then what are we doing here? You could’ve had that necklace we walked past. Or the lingerie. Hell, a whole new wardrobe.”

You laugh, light and easy. “I don’t need a necklace. Not when it costs, what… thirteen hundred dollars?”

“That’s nothing,” she says without hesitation, her voice flat with certainty.

“Not to you.” You tip your head, sugar-sweet smile curving your mouth. “To me? That’s everything. That’s rent. Groceries. Half a semester’s books. A necklace doesn’t make sense when you could pay tuition with the same swipe of a card.”

Her eyes narrow. Not angry, just… baffled.

Like you’ve just spoken in a language she’s never heard before.

You lift the cup, tapping the plastic lid lightly. “This though? This was overpriced for what it is. I wouldn’t normally buy it. But today, you’re standing here with me while I drink it. This is everything. It’s gonna make my whole night and probably my morning too.”

For a second, Sevika just stares at you. The din of the mall fades, replaced by the low thrum of her pulse in her ears.

“You’re serious,” she finally says, half to herself.

“Dead serious.” You sip again, licking whipped cream from your lip before meeting her gaze head-on. “So yeah… I get what you meant.”

Her throat works, jaw tightening for a beat before she huffs out a laugh, low and incredulous. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

And she looks at you like she’s never wanted anyone more.

You swirl the straw in your drink, then glance up at her with that playful tilt to your chin. “Want a taste?”

Sevika raises a brow, glancing at the pastel-pink sugar bomb in your hand. “That looks like diabetes in a cup.”

“Maybe,” you say, sliding it across the counter toward her. “But don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

She hesitates, then leans in, lips closing around the straw. It’s sweet. Too sweet, the kind of thing she’d never order on her own. But your eyes are fixed on her mouth when she pulls back, and suddenly the taste doesn’t matter.

You grin. “See? Better than that fancy restaurant, huh?”

Her brow arches. “That’s debatable.”

“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, hair brushing your cheek as you lean just a little closer, voice dropping. “That place where we met? It’s fun, once in a while. Once a year, maybe. But it’s not really… pleasure. Not for me.”

Your smile turns softer, more dangerous. “A cheap sandwich, a drink too sweet for its own good, and a bed. That’s real pleasure.”

Something in her chest tightens.

This girl.

This girl with red-stained cheeks who held her ground from the first second… isn’t playing by any of her old rules.

You study her, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So… let me make it easy for you. If I say I love Louboutins?” You tilt your chin up toward her, refusing to bow. “Buy me dupes. Nothing over fifty bucks. Otherwise I’m not wearing them.”

Her laugh is sharp, caught between disbelief and desire.

“And if you buy me lingerie? Don’t make it expensive. If I find out the price, I’m not wearing it. I’m not thanking you for it either.”

Her throat works. She should be irritated. You’re tearing down the very structure she’s built her arrangements on.

But instead she’s burning from the inside out.

Because you’re not easy. You’re not pliant. Even if you want to shake.

And that makes every word, every glance, every pushback so much hotter than the polished girls who’d melt for a necklace.

Sevika leans in, her mouth close enough that you can feel the ghost of her breath. “You really don’t make it easy, do you?”

Your lips curl in a smile, sugar-sweet and defiant. “Wouldn’t be fun if I did.”

And God. She knows she’s fucked.

Because she’s never wanted someone so much.

You finish your drink, the straw rattling against melting ice. Then you set the cup aside, wipe your mouth with a napkin, and glance up at Sevika.

Her gaze is still fixed on you, like she’s trying to puzzle out what the hell you are. She’s powerful, loaded, untouchable. And yet you’ve got her at a mall café corner, licking sugar off her lips.

“Now,” you say, voice calm but firm, “I want your arm.”

For a second, the air holds.

You can see the flicker in her eyes. The split-second calculation, the instinct to resist just to prove she doesn’t have to listen.

But then she shifts, slow and deliberate, and offers her arm.

Your chest warms, heart hammering.

You slide your hand into the crook of her elbow, fingers brushing the fine wool of her sleeve, and it feels like a small victory.

Because she gave. Because your theory is right.

If Sevika wants to spoil you, she has to do it your way.

You walk beside her through the mall, chin up, pulse racing. To anyone else, it looks simple. A girl and her date, hand in arm.

But in your head, it’s thunder. You’re proud, triumphant, flustered as hell, but steady.

And Sevika? She keeps stealing glances at you, her jaw set, like she knows she just surrendered something small but crucial.

She doesn’t say a word. But she doesn’t pull her arm away, either.

And that’s all the proof you need.

The drive back is quiet, but not uncomfortable.

Your hand is still looped through Sevika’s arm in your mind, even if it’s no longer physically there.

You can feel the ghost of it as the city lights pass, shadows dancing across her profile. Sharp jaw, steady hands on the wheel, that damn watch catching every neon sign.

She pulls up in front of your building, the engine humming low. Students pass by on the sidewalk, laughing, backpacks slung carelessly.

Your world. Not hers.

And yet here she is.

You turn in your seat, facing her. “So… this is me.”

Her eyes flicker to you, unreadable, then back to the road. “Yeah. I can see that.”

You smile faintly. She’s so damn composed. Thinking about it, it’s almost too much.

But under the surface, you can feel it.

That tautness, that energy she hasn’t figured out what to do with around you.

You breathe in, steadying yourself, and then say, soft but certain: “I’m going to kiss you now.”

That gets her. Her head snaps toward you, brow arching, eyes dark. “You’re telling me?”

“Yes.” You lean closer, chin tilted up. “So you know you’re not the one deciding.”

For a second, you think she’ll scoff, maybe laugh that low dangerous laugh. But she doesn’t. She just watches you, like you’ve hooked her in place.

And then you close the distance.

Her lips are warm, rougher than you expected, and she doesn’t move at first, like she’s stunned that you’d dare.

But then she exhales sharply, her mouth pressing back against yours, hungry but restrained.

You pull away first. On purpose.

Her jaw flexes, and you see it, clear as day, that she hates it. Hates that you get to decide when it ends.

But the way she’s staring at you? She loves it too.

Your lips curve, heart hammering. “Goodnight, Sevika.”

And you slip out of the car before she can speak, leaving her in the driver’s seat with the taste of you still on her mouth and the burning realization,

She’s in your game now.

She hears the door shut. That little click echoes louder than the city noise around her.

Sevika grips the wheel like it might steady her, fingers flexing, leather groaning under her palm. Her throat is dry. Her chest feels tight.

What the fuck just happened.

She’s kissed dozens of women.

Paid for their time, paid for their smiles, paid for their fucking affection. And she fucking liked it.

She’s always had the power. Always.

A wallet heavy enough to tip the scales, a presence sharp enough to keep them off balance.

But you?

You told her. You warned her.

Like she was the one who needed permission. And she let you.

She sat there and let you set the pace, take the lead, pull away first.

Her jaw clenches so hard it aches.

She hates it.

Hates how her pulse is still racing, how her lips are still tingling from the soft press of yours. Hates that when you whispered goodnight she wanted to drag you back in and make you eat the word right out of her mouth.

And yet. Fuck. she’s smiling.

A small, dangerous curve tugging at her mouth despite herself. Because that kiss, it didn’t feel like something she bought.

It felt like something she earned.

A reward.

Her hand slams the wheel once, a sharp crack of leather.

Fury and arousal tangle in her gut, molten and maddening. She’s Sevika. She doesn’t play by anyone else’s rules.

Except now, she’s playing yours.

She’s not walking away from a new game.

She listens to you. She has to. More than she wants to admit.

No Louboutins. No designer dresses. No sleek velvet lingerie sets that cost more than a month of rent.

You told her straight, and she listened. Against all her instincts, against every bit of her old game, she listens.

And when she listens? She sees it.

You twirling in front of a mirror in a $30 dress she slipped off a rack in some downtown boutique, laughing like it’s spun gold. You holding up a belt in a thrift shop, eyes wide, whispering “Sevika, look how gorgeous it is!” like it’s some miracle, when it’s only a ten bucks accessory. You slipping a cheap oversized pearl bracelet on your wrist, declaring it perfect, and then never taking it off. Wearing it with everything from ripped jeans to cocktail dresses.

It wrecks her.

She’s used to women fawning over diamond studs, silk, and leather. But you? You gasp, gasp like you’ve been handed the world, over twenty-dollar shoes. And Sevika, towering, sharp, in control, is sitting there watching you, chest tight, obsessed.

She catches herself staring too long, watching your hands smooth down the cheap fabric, watching your smile stretch wide enough to split her open.

And every time, she thinks the same thing:

I’ve never spent so little and gotten so much.

It’s infuriating. Addicting.

She hates how much she loves it. How much she wants to keep feeding you, even if it means lowering herself into your strange, stubborn rules.

Because the truth is, every little thing she hands you; every bracelet, every dress, every belt, isn’t just spoiling anymore.

It’s obedience.

And Sevika’s never been obsessed with obedience before.

But now? She’s fucking drowning in it.

Then one night, you’re at her house.

The door clicks shut behind you, heavy and final, and before Sevika can shrug off her jacket you’re kissing her. Hard. Hands in her shirt, pulling her down to you like you’ve been starving all week.

She tastes like smoke and whiskey, feels like heat pressed into steel. And when she groans into your mouth, you feel it all the way down your spine.

She thinks she’s guiding you.

Big hands sliding down your waist, steering you through the dim house.

But then your fingers fist in her shirt, and you tug. Just enough to knock her balance off.

She stumbles back against the bed, and suddenly it’s her falling onto the mattress. Her eyes widen for half a second.

Fuck.

Before your weight is over hers, your lips still chasing, your body pressing her down.

“Oh, shit,” she mutters against your mouth, low and raw, a laugh tangled in her voice. She wasn’t prepared for this.

Because Sevika doesn’t get pushed. Doesn’t get toppled. Doesn’t let anyone else write the rhythm.

But here you are, kissing her like every new gift, every little thing she’s given you, earned this.

Every time she obeyed your stubborn rules, she was building to this moment. And now she’s collecting her rewards.

Your hands roam over her chest, down the line of her jaw, tangling in her hair. And Sevika? She lets you.

Fuck, she wants you to.

Her head tips back into the pillow, lips parting, the smallest sound slipping out of her throat, unplanned, desperate.

And for the first time in years, Sevika feels something rare and sharp in her chest.

Not just desire. Not just power.

Need.

And it’s your hands pulling it out of her.

But you don’t rush. That’s the first thing that wrecks her slowly.

Sevika’s used to urgency, clothes peeled off, skin pressed fast, wanting her body like it’s the last drink in the bar. But you, you take your time.

Straddling her waist, you kiss her slow, like every brush of your mouth is deliberate. Your hands skim her jaw, her throat, her chest, trailing down just enough to make her twitch beneath you before pulling back again. Teasing. Testing.

“Thought you were the one in charge,” you murmur against her lips, voice low, playful.

She growls, actually growls, like she wants to flip you, pin you down, remind you who’s bigger, stronger, heavier.

She can.

But she doesn’t.

She doesn’t move. Her mech hand curls tight in the sheets, her flesh one gripping your thigh, and that’s it.

Because you told her what you wanted. And Sevika listens.

You shift, lowering just enough to press your mouth against her throat, and she hisses through her teeth, head tipping back. The sound she makes when your teeth scrape lightly against her skin. It’s filthy, unguarded, and she hates how fast it tears out of her chest.

Your lips pull away only to whisper, “See? This is how you spoil me.”

Her eyes snap open at that. Dark. Dazed. Furious with herself for how badly it works on her.

Because you’re right. Every kiss you drag down her neck, every brush of your fingers across her ribs, every slow grind of your hips over hers.

It’s not just touch. It’s payment.

It’s her surrender.

And Sevika, who’s never surrendered a day in her life, finds herself lying still under you, heart pounding so hard she’s sure you feel it.

Her chest heaves. Her jaw clenches. And when your mouth brushes the corner of her lips again, she almost begs.

Almost.

Her breath catches when your fingers find the first button of her shirt.

She swears she’s still in control, can still flip you if she wants, make you whimper for her instead, but she doesn’t stop you.

She doesn’t even move.

One button. Two. Three.

Each undone with maddening, controlled slowness, each one leaving more of her chest exposed to the warm air between you.

“Careful,” she rasps, though it comes out weaker than she means it to, her voice raw with something closer to need than warning. “You think you can handle this?”

But the soft, almost tender smirk tugging at your lips says you already are.

By the time you spread her shirt open, Sevika’s jaw is locked tight, her pulse hammering against your palm when you lay your hand flat against her skin.

Warm, soft. So different from what she expected.

And when your thumb brushes deliberately over her breast, teasing the edge, her body jerks before she can stop it.

“Fuck,” she mutters, low and sharp, her mech hand tightening into the sheets.

She wants to snap. To grab your wrist, throw you on your back, remind you what she is.

But then your other hand joins, cupping her firmly, thumb sliding across her nipple through the thin lace of her bra, and her hips lift helplessly into yours.

The sound that rips out of her throat is humiliating.

Not a growl, not command.

A moan.

Her head falls back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted like she can hold onto the last shred of dominance.

But every nerve in her body is betraying her, alight under your touch.

Because Sevika’s always thought control was natural. Something she carried like smoke, like weight. But here, with your hands unbuttoning her shirt, and now with your fingers teasing her breast like you own it. fuck.

It feels good. Too good.

And she realizes, with horror and heat flooding her all at once, that maybe she doesn’t want to fight it.

Her muscles tense beneath you, her mech arm moving, her torso shifting like she’s about to roll you under her.

She can taste the instinct, the snap-back, the need to take back the control you’re stealing from her inch by inch.

And then your mouth closes around her breast.

“Fuck—!” The word tears out of her, broken, unfiltered. Her back arches hard off the mattress, her hand flying up but not to stop you.

No, it tangles in your hair, holding you closer, desperate.

Just like that, the instinct to flip you is gone.

Gone under the hot press of your lips, the slow drag of your tongue, the sharp scrape of your teeth over her nipple. Her mech hand slams into the mattress instead of your hip again, the sheets tearing a little under the force.

And the worst part? She likes it.

She’s grinding up into you now, chasing the friction of your hips rolling against hers, each shift hitting that maddeningly good angle that makes her stomach clench.

She can’t think. Can’t plan. Can’t dominate. She can only feel.

When you finally lift your head, lips glistening, you look at her like you know exactly what you’ve done. And you do.

You straighten on her hips, still moving, slow, grinding pressure that has her cursing under her breath.

And then, with deliberate, devastating calm, you peel your own shirt over your head and toss it aside.

Her eyes snap to your bare skin, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with hunger.

She swallows hard, her jaw tight like she’s fighting to keep any shred of control. But she’s not fooling either of you.

Because you’re on top. You’re moving. You’re the one making her come apart.

The second your pants hit the floor… Sevika thinks she might finally regain some ground.

Push herself up, take back control, remind you who the hell she is if she has the strength for it.

But you’re quicker. Before she can brace on her elbows, you catch her thigh, lift it over your arm, and press your core down between her legs.

The sharp gasp she makes is primal, punched right out of her chest when your soaked heat drags against hers.

“Oh, fuck—” It’s wrecked, broken.

Nothing like the cool control she had in that bar, nothing like the dark chuckle she gave you over whiskey.

Your bodies slot together perfectly, hips rolling, wetness slick between you. The pressure is sharp and electric, her thigh trembling against your arm as you set the rhythm.

Your bodies slot together perfectly, hips rolling, wetness slick between you.

The pressure is sharp and electric, her thigh trembling against your arm as you set the rhythm.

Sevika’s head falls back hard against the pillow, teeth bared, mech hand clenching uselessly at the sheets.

Every grind of your hips steals more of her resolve, every brush of your clit against hers sending sparks down her spine until her body is chasing the friction helplessly.

She’s not leading, she’s following.

Your nails dig into her thigh, holding her open, using her body like she’s the one being spoiled, fucked, owned.

“Shit—fuck, baby—” Her voice cracks as her hips buck up into yours, chasing, losing herself.

Her abs tighten under your touch, sweat gathering along her collarbone, her shirt already thrown somewhere forgotten on the floor.

And then you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers, your voice steady even as your body shudders with each grind.

“Sevika… this is what it feels like,” you whisper, your breath hot against her lips. “This is being spoiled.”

Her eyes snap open at that, pupils wide, chest heaving, and then she moans again, long and guttural, the sound ripped from her throat as her hips jerk up hard against yours.

You’re a mess above her, hair sticking to your damp forehead, lips parted, voice shameless with hers as it spills into the quiet of her room.

Every grind drags another broken sound from your throat, high and soft, and Sevika swears she’s going to lose her mind.

You sing it. You give it to her, unashamed, every sound echoing through her chest until she feels it in her bones.

It tips her right over the edge. The second your mouth crashes down against hers, hot and desperate, her resolve snaps.

The kiss is wet, messy, your moans spilling straight into her mouth.

And she comes undone beneath you, hips bucking wildly, grinding up into you with no rhythm left, soaked to her inner thighs.

The pleasure rips through her, white-hot, scattering everything she thought she knew about control.

She moans into your kiss, broken and guttural, her thigh trembling hard in your grip until she can’t keep still.

And you don’t stop. You ride her through it, your voice high and wrecked, and then, you’re gone too.

Your whole body shudders, your nails sinking into her skin, another desperate moan spilling into her mouth as you grind down hard one last time.

The world stills. The air between you is hot, damp with sweat, your chests heaving against each other.

For a moment, Sevika just lets herself float in it, lips dragging across yours, dizzy with how good you taste.

Then, without warning, she moves.

Not with the sharp, brutal flip she thought she’d give you when this night started, but with a steady press of strength.

She shifts, rolling you beneath her, bracing her weight carefully so you’re not crushed.

Her lips hover over yours, her grey eyes blown wide and wild.

It’s not about being a dom anymore. Not about power, not about control. It’s about being closer. About feeling you under her, against her, all around her.

And when you smile up at her, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing. She finally understands she’s fucked.

Because this isn’t a game anymore. This is hers now.

But… After.

That’s when she notices it the most.

The room still smells like sweat and your perfume, the sheets tangled and damp beneath her elbow where she props herself up to look at you.

And she shouldn’t. She knows she shouldn’t. This is the moment where she usually gets up, lights a cigarette, lets the distance reset everything.

But you’ve got her pinned without even trying.

You’re smiling. A little lazy thing, lips swollen, lashes fluttering against your flushed cheeks as you look at her like she’s not some woman who just dragged you into her bed and made you lose your voice.

Like she’s not dangerous. Like she’s not her. Not like the woman she met at the bar and who asked her to be her sugar baby.

Your hand drifts up to her chest, tracing idle circles against her skin, and Sevika realizes she hasn’t moved in minutes.

She’s just… staring at you. At the way you glow in the aftermath, at the warmth rolling off you like it belongs to her.

And fuck, it’s too much.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Sugar babies get their gifts, they get their kisses, they get the fantasy. Sevika gets to hold the reins. Take control, her pleasure. What she’s paying for. That’s the deal.

Except with you, there’s no deal anymore.

There’s your smile that guts her every single time.

There’s the way you gasped when she slid that cheap bracelet on your wrist and the way you’re still wearing it now, tangled in her sheets, like it’s worth a fortune. Because it’s a gift from her. Not because it cost.

There’s the way you make her feel like every gift, every gesture, every touch has weight. Real weight.

She drags her fingers down your side, softer than she means to. Lingering.

Almost tender.

And you just sigh, curling into her touch like it belongs there, like she belongs there.

That’s when it hits her. The creeping dread between the ribs, the one she’s been ignoring since that first kiss in her car.

This isn’t material anymore. It isn’t power.

It’s worse.

Because it’s you. And Sevika’s falling so hard she doesn’t know how to stop.

She has to stop.

To you, in her mind, it’s probably simple:

Sevika buys you a little something; cheap shoes, a second-hand dress, your groceries, pay your rent, and you smile at her like she’s given you the world.

But she touches you softer than she did the first time.

Kisses lingering on your jaw, hand resting on your waist a little too long, and you melt right into it.

You don’t see the way it breaks her.

Because Sevika knows exactly what this is supposed to be.

She knows the rules, she fucking wrote them.

You don’t get soft with your sugar baby. You don’t linger in their bed. You don’t buy them something cheap just because they’ll squeal and wear it every day.

You don’t… look at them while they’re asleep beside you and feel like you’re going to fucking drown in it.

But here you are, smiling up at her with that stupid cheap bracelet glinting under the lamp, and Sevika’s chest aches in a way that money can’t fix.

And that’s the problem.

You don’t know you’re wrecking her. You don’t know she’s sitting there, watching you laugh at your own dumb joke, and thinking fuck, this isn’t an arrangement anymore.

It’s not sugar mommy and sugar baby. It’s not transactional. It’s not supposed to be real.

But it is.

And Sevika hates it. Because she can’t let it be.

Not when she knows she’ll lose herself in you completely if she doesn’t stop now.

She tries.

Sevika tells herself all the way through the drive: no touching, no kissing, no letting you in deeper than you already are. She grips the wheel until her knuckles pale, forces her eyes to stay on the road, keeps the conversation light.

She can do this. She has to.

But then you’re there beside her, laughing softly at something you said, brushing your hair back, the cheap bracelet she bought you catching the streetlight through the windshield.

And Sevika’s chest twists.

She parks in front of your building. The engine hums, a low, steady thing that doesn’t match the chaos in her head. This is it. She just has to let you go. A simple “goodnight” and you’ll be gone.

Easy.

Except you don’t move.

You unbuckle slowly, turning in your seat to look at her with that calm, steady gaze that’s ruined her since the bar. Your lips curve faintly. “Not going to kiss me goodnight?”

Her throat goes dry. She should say no.

She should let you walk out of the car and close this thing before it’s too late.

But you lean closer, and all Sevika’s resolve snaps like glass.

The kiss happens because it has to, because not kissing you feels like holding her breath underwater.

Your hand comes up to her jaw, warm, firm, and she leans into it without thinking, mouth moving against yours like it’s instinct, like it’s been years instead of weeks.

By the time you pull back, breathless but smiling, Sevika’s stomach sinks. Because she’s lost.

She can’t stop.

Not anymore.

And when you whisper, “Goodnight, Sev,” before slipping out of the car, she grips the steering wheel so hard her palm aches, furious with herself.

Furious because she let herself kiss you.

Furious because she already wants the next one.

Furious because it doesn’t feel like an arrangement anymore.

…it feels like love.

And it happens again. The sex.

That’s what’s supposed to happen, right?

That’s what you both signed for.

Her hand moves inside you, steady and sure, two fingers curling deep and slow, and it should just be sex.

It always was before. Just release, just power.

But with you, she can’t stop herself from leaning down, her lips dragging over the slope of your shoulder, the side of your throat, the soft skin beneath your breast.

She kisses and bites, not even thinking about it, like her mouth has a mind of its own. Every sound you make, every arch of your body, draws her closer, makes her hungry for more than what she should want.

And the worst part, it’s that you let her. You smile at her. You sigh her name like it means something.

Her bed is all silk sheets, dim lights, the expensive world she built brick by brick. You don’t belong here, she knows it, can feel it every time she presses you into the mattress.

You’re supposed to be impressed, supposed to let her buy you, keep you, own you.

That’s how this works.

But you look at her like none of that matters. Like she’s not a walking bank account, not a sugar mommy with a fat wallet.

You look at her like she’s yours.

And she’s a fool.

Because you never looked at her like she was your sugar mommy.

Your hand fists in her hair, tugging when she curls her fingers just right, and you whisper through broken breaths, “Sev… you’re so good to me.”

It wrecks her. Like a knife straight to the chest.

She’s good at this. She knows she is. But you’re not talking about her fingers, or her tongue, or the way she’s making you fall apart.

You’re talking about her.

And Sevika hates it.

Hates how your words feel like a chain pulling her under, how every kiss she plants on your skin feels like signing a contract she can’t afford. Hates how your praise burns through her like a death sentence.

But she still listens.

She still kisses you again, harder.

And she still fucks you like she’s already yours.

She has to stop.

You’re bent over her coffee table, slipping your books into your bag.

It’s starting to be late, you’ve got class in the morning, and she knows your routine now by heart, knows when you’ll stand, when you’ll pull your coat from the chair, when you’ll turn to kiss her goodbye before heading back to your shoebox of a dorm.

She lights her cigarette instead. Her fingers don’t want to work, her lighter nearly slipping before the flame catches.

The drag doesn’t calm her, it never does when you’re around, but it gives her the excuse to keep her mouth busy, to keep from saying the words she shouldn’t.

But then you look up, smile faint and tired, still soft for her, still too much for her. And she can’t hold it, she can’t keep it.

“Don’t come back.”

It lands heavy between you.

Her voice doesn’t crack, but her hand does, the cigarette trembles slightly, ash scattering on the tray.

You freeze mid-motion, book halfway zipped into your bag.

You blink, once, twice, like maybe you misheard her.

Your lips part, ready to ask what she just said, but she cuts you off with another drag, with eyes that don’t meet yours.

“You heard me,” she says. Cold. Final. Cruel enough to make you believe she means it.

And still. Her chest aches, because all she wants is for you to argue, to fight her on it, to crawl back into her bed and ruin every reason she’s trying to convince herself with.

But she won’t tell you the truth.

That the real reason she can’t keep you here is because she already loves you, and that’s the one thing she swore she’d never let happen.

Because she doesn’t have the fucking time. The fucking mindset. She’s not one to love.

Normally, you’re unshakable. Chin up, voice level, always meeting her eyes without flinching. But not now. It’s impossible to pretend.

“…What?”

Your voice cracks. Just barely, but Sevika hears it like a blade dragged across her chest. You blink fast, lashes wet, but no tears fall. Not yet.

The smoke of her cigarette is curling up and stinging her eyes, or maybe that’s not the smoke at all.

She keeps her gaze on the ceiling, anywhere but your face, because she knows if she looks at you now, she’ll fail.

You swallow hard, shoulders lifting like you’re trying to force yourself steady again, but your voice betrays you a second time.

“Why?”

So small. So raw. Not angry, not sharp, not the quick wit you always use to shield yourself.

Just stripped, aching.

The question lands heavier than any accusation could.

Sevika drags in smoke until her lungs burn, but it doesn’t stop the hollow echo of your words in her skull.

Doesn’t stop the guilt, the urge to cross the room and take it all back, kiss that look off your face until you believe she’d never hurt you.

Instead she exhales slowly, lets the ash fall, and keeps her silence. Because the only answer she has is the one she’ll never give you.

Because I love you, and that’s not allowed.

Your chest is rising too fast, breath shallow, as the silence stretches between you. She won’t even look at you. She just sits there with her damn cigarette, smoke curling around her like armor.

You laugh. It comes out shaky, wet. Ugly. “…Wow.”

Her jaw tightens. She doesn’t move.

“Coward.” The word cuts sharper than you meant it to, but you don’t take it back. You shove your last book into your bag with jerky hands, not caring if the corners bend.

“You couldn’t even make up a good reason, could you? Just—‘don’t come back.’ Like I’m supposed to nod and walk out like a good little girl.”

Your eyes sting, throat burning, but your voice finds steel under the shake.

“You know what’s funny? I really thought you loved me. Stupid, huh? Me, thinking I mattered more than that.”

You finally turn on her, wet lashes, red cheeks, heartbreak blazing in your stare. “Turns out I was just the fool. And you—” your voice cracks, fury and pain twisted together—“you’re just a coward.”

You snap your bag shut, the sound loud as a gunshot in the quiet room.

Sevika’s hand trembles around the cigarette even more.

You hitch the bag onto your shoulder so violently it nearly topples you, but you don’t care. Your pulse is thunder in your ears. You jab a finger at her, trembling with fury.

“You don’t even respect me enough to end it with care.” Your voice cracks, ragged and sharp, but steady enough to cut.

Sevika finally looks at you.

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes. Just smoke spilling from her mouth, and those wide, haunted eyes you don’t even recognize.

Your chest heaves, your breath is chaotic. “You think you can just—do that? Like it’s so easy to say, so easy to do?” The words slice her in two, you can see it. You want her to feel it.

“…You don’t love me?” Your voice cracks, quiet but brutal, the kind of question that slices both ways.

Her cigarette has burned too low; the ash drops on her jeans, singeing the fabric. She doesn’t even notice.

“Say something!” you scream suddenly, chest heaving. “All this big mouth, these fucking scary eyes—for what?!”

For the first time since you met her, Sevika looks… undone.

Not dangerous, not powerful. Just caught. Trapped. Like she can’t breathe.

Her jaw flexes again, like she’s grinding down the words before they come out.

But then, rough and low, Sevika forces them anyway.

“We’re not supposed to love each other,” she mutters, each syllable bitten off like it hurts to say. Her fingers twitch against the table, knuckles whitening. “It’s not… it just can’t be. That’s not how this thing works.”

You freeze.

Her words are like a slap, sharp and cold enough to knock the air out of your chest.

This thing.

The reminder slams into you all at once, what you are, what this has been.

A game made of money, of affection bought and sold.

A sugar mommy and her spoiled girl, dressed up with laughter and kisses and late nights tangled in bedsheets.

Not love.

Not what you thought it was turning into.

Your heart thunders and then sinks, dragging everything inside you down with it. You feel your pulse in your throat, your ears, the tips of your fingers, and yet you can’t make a sound. Not even a sob.

How could you forget? How could you, stupid, sentimental, let yourself believe it was more?

Your lips part, your eyes lost, but no words come out. Just stunned silence, the kind that feels like a freefall.

Because for a moment, you really, completely forgot why you were together in the first place.

Across from you, Sevika stares like she’s watching you slip through her hands, and she’s the one who shoved you.

Your hands tighten on the strap of your bag, nails digging into the leather. The fight burns out of you all at once, leaving only something heavier, darker, in its place.

“You bought my affection.” Your voice is hoarse, cracked, but steady enough. “And now you’re throwing me away.”

Sevika’s jaw locks, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stares.

“Not even… breaking up with me like a person,” you add, a bitter little laugh scraping out of you. “You couldn’t even say it was time to stop. No—you had to throw me out. Like an object…’don’t come back’.”

She flinches. She actually flinches.

But you don’t give her time to reply.

You turn, every step feeling like it carves another piece of you away, and head for the front door of her house. Your hand grips the handle, the weight of your bag heavy on your shoulder, and you don’t look back.

Behind you, there’s the scrape of wood on tile, sudden and violent, her chair shoved back.

“Wait—”

It’s rough, desperate, the kind of sound that doesn’t belong to her. Not the Sevika you know.

But you don’t stop. You can’t.

The door swings open, and before she can take a second step toward you, before she can decide to drop the pride choking her, you step through.

The heavy click of the lock slotting back into place feels like a bullet between you both.

Sevika stands frozen, half-risen from her chair, cigarette ash scattering on the floor. Her chest heaves once, twice, but she doesn’t follow. She doesn’t dare.

The silence after the door closes is a roar in her ears.

The apartment is too quiet without you. Too fucking quiet.

She lights another cigarette, the fifth in an hour, but it doesn’t burn away the hollow in her chest.

Smoke coils through the air, clinging to the silk curtains, but she can’t chase out the ghost of your laugh, your perfume, the sound of you humming in her kitchen when you thought she wasn’t listening.

Again, this was supposed to be easy.

It always was before.

Girls wanted shoes, handbags, sparkling necklaces they showed off like trophies, and Sevika gave it all without blinking.

They played the part she liked, adoring, eager, pliant, and she got to feel like a god.

She knew the rules, and she always, always won.

But you? You ruined the game.

You walked into it with that smile, pretending nothing mattered, sipping that too-sweet drink like it was treasure, brushing off her offers of diamonds with a wrinkled nose and a laugh.

You told her from the start at your first official date; you were sentimental. You didn’t give a fuck about the money. You wanted her, not the bills in her wallet.

Sevika didn’t take it seriously. Not at first.

But then, like a fool, Sevika wanted you back. Fell so fucking hard it knocked her flat.

Now the bed is cold.

Her phone is silent.

Every muscle in her body itches to call you, to show up at your shitty student building and drag you back here where you belong.

But she doesn’t move.

Because what would she even say? That she’s in love? That she’s terrified? That she doesn’t know how to be anything other than the woman who buys affection and calls it a relationship?

The cigarette burns down to the filter between her fingers. She doesn’t even feel it.

What she does feel, is that sickness in her stomach. Like cigarettes suddenly make her sick.

Or is it really the cigarettes ?

You shove your bag down on your desk, harder than you mean to.

The textbooks spill out, pages bending, but you don’t care. The room feels too small, too suffocating, and the silence presses on your ears until it aches.

You thought you were smarter than this.

So, so smart. You never understood the type of girl to fall for lies. It’s so obvious, isn’t it ?

You thought you could handle her, her money, her sharp tongue, the way she looked at you like she could swallow you whole. You told her you were sentimental.

You even joked about it.

But still, deep down, you let yourself believe she might feel the same way.

You were such a fool.

Because of course she doesn’t love you. She never said she did. Never promised forever. Never gave you anything except the rules of the game: gifts, money, touch, kiss, repeat. And you? You broke them.

You let yourself believe that when she brushed her thumb over your cheek in bed, when she kissed your forehead, when she bought you that stupid fake pearl bracelet, you let yourself think it meant something more.

But it didn’t.

It was always just an arrangement.

And you’ve been living in a dream.

Now your chest feels carved out, raw. Your one stupid tear from earlier dried on your cheek, but another slips down before you can stop it. You press the heel of your palm hard against your eyes, but it doesn’t change the truth.

She threw you away. And the worst part?

You’d go back if she asked.

Sevika, on her side, tries to bury it.

She throws herself into work first.

Longer shifts, barking orders, like sharp knives moving fast under her hand.

She pushes harder, sharper, meaner, until her coworkers give her a wide berth, muttering under their breath when she’s not listening. But when she walks in a hallway, pass by a woman she doesn’t even know the name of, the smell of something sweet brings back the memory of you pressing that pink drink to her lips, asking if she wanted a taste.

So she switches to going out after hours.

Drinks with her colleagues, the kind of nights where the bar is loud enough to make her ears ring, where women laugh too close, touch her arm, tilt their heads like they’re offering something. She should want it. She used to.

But their perfume isn’t yours, their smiles aren’t yours, their voices don’t make her chest feel like it’s splitting apart.

And it’s that same fucking bar.

Everything reminds her of you.

The sight of cheap keychains by the gas station counter makes her freeze.

Walking past a clothing rack and seeing a thirty-dollar dress in the window makes her stomach twist.

She lights a cigarette on the balcony of her bedroom and swears she can feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.

It’s pathetic.

She knows it.

She’s Sevika. She doesn’t pine, doesn’t ache, doesn’t let anyone crawl under her skin. Not even when she was a stupid kid fumbling through her first kiss did she feel like this. This… hunger. This hole she can’t fill.

And it’s driving her insane.

By the time she stubs out her cigarette, Sevika admits it to herself. She can’t forget you. She doesn’t want to. The taste of you, the sound of your laugh, the way you fucking smiled at her like she wasn’t a monster.

It’s too much.

She has to get you back.

One day, she’s fucking exhausted.

Her whole body feels heavy when she leaves the huge building, like she’s carrying bricks in her bones. She takes the long way home, just to breathe, just to… not think.

But she stops.

It’s stupid. It’s a fucking candy shop.

Neon pink light spilling out the window like something childish, something she has no business staring at. But she does.

She stares.

And there, right in the display, sits a plastic bucket full of Ring Pops. Giant, cheap, sugar-slick jewels in every color.

She doesn’t think.

She just walks in, buys the whole pack. Doesn’t even look at the cashier when they raise their brow at the sheer amount. She can feel her hand shaking as she shoves the bag into her jacket, her throat too tight, her chest too full.

In the car, she presses her eyes shut, forehead resting on the steering wheel. Her other hand grips the bag until the plastic crackles.

What the fuck is she doing?

A woman like her, bringing candy jewelry like it’s some kind of peace offering. Like it’ll make up for the way she threw you out, for every stupid wall she put up.

But she can’t stop herself.

She turns the ignition, drives. Not home.

Not to her empty, echoing, too big house.

To you. To your dorm.

The closer she gets, the faster her heart beats, pounding like it’s trying to break free from her ribs.

She parks too fast, too close, and for a long minute she just sits there, staring at the glowing windows above.

She can’t breathe. She’s terrified.

But then her fist closes around one of the candy rings in her pocket, plastic edges cutting into her palm, and she gets out of the car. She has to.

She’s going to you.

But fuck, she shouldn’t be here. She’s shaking. She’s going to make it all so much worse.

But Sevika has already knocked. One short, sharp knock, her knuckles still tingling from the door, her chest still hammering from the hours she spent stewing in her car like a coward.

And then.

The door opens.

You’re standing there, hair mussed from studying, eyes red in a way that makes her throat close up.

For three seconds.

Three full, agonizing seconds.

You just look at each other.

Neither moves.

Neither speaks.

It feels like the world holds its breath.

The candy ring digs into her palm, sweaty and ridiculous and so heartbreakingly small compared to everything she wants to give you.

And then you crash into each other.

The kiss is all teeth, clumsy, desperate, wet.

She doesn’t care when her lip splits on your mouth, doesn’t care that it’s messy, too much, not enough, her hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in harder, while the other fists uselessly around that stupid ring pop she brought, crushed plastic against the metal.

You breathe her name into her mouth like it’s the only word you’ve spoken in days, and Sevika groans, low and wrecked, like she’s been underwater and finally got air.

She presses you against the doorframe, foreheads colliding, panting, kissing you again because a few days apart was too much. It was unbearable.

And in her chest, Sevika knows with terrifying clarity: she’s not letting you go again.

The door barely clicks shut and she’s still on you into the narrow space of your tiny dorm, mouth moving over yours like she can make up for the days she lost.

The candy ring clatters uselessly onto your desk as her mech hand finally grab what they’ve been starving for.

You.

Her voice breaks against your lips.

“Don’t leave—” it’s hoarse, desperate, spilling out like she doesn’t care if it ruins her.

“Don’t leave, don’t leave.” Every kiss between the words. Every plea dragging her lower, breaking her down.

You clutch at her jacket, pulling her closer.

It’s dizzying, too much, too fast.

But after the days apart, neither of you care.

Sevika crowds you against the bed, and the way she presses her forehead to yours while looking at you is more raw than any gift, any money, any deal you ever made with her.

She kisses you again, gasping, like the words are being ripped from her chest. “I can’t—don’t leave me. Don’t leave.”

And for the very first time, you feel her shaking.

The kisses aren’t careful. It’s messy, bruising, her teeth dragging your lip like punishment and apology at the same time.

Her hands are everywhere at once. Your waist, your back, your face, like she can’t decide what part of you to claim first, terrified you’ll slip away if she lets go.

You try to speak, maybe to ask why, maybe to tell her fuck you for what she did, but then her mouth is on your throat, hot and frantic, biting like she needs proof you’re here.

The sound that leaves you is shaky, broken, but Sevika swallows it like oxygen.

‘’Missed you,” you breathe, barely audible.

Sevika growls against your skin, metal hand gripping your hip so hard it drags a gasp out of you.

She’s shaking, but it’s not anger. It’s relief. “You don’t know—” Her voice cracks against your collarbone, her lips trembling there. “You don’t know how much.”

Your bed creaks under her weight as she lays on top of you, pressing into you like she’ll lose her mind if there’s space between your bodies.

She’s desperate, unbuttoning the rest of your clothes with trembling fingers, dragging her own shirt off like it’s suffocating her.

You arch into her, your hands running down her bare sides, nails catching skin.

She lets out a sound, half-groan, half-moan, that makes you dizzy, makes you realize how badly she missed you.

And for once, you don’t fight her control.

You just grab her face, pull her back into your kiss, and give it all back, how much you missed her, how much you need her, too.

Every inch of bare skin collies, your legs tangled, your mouths bruising from the force of the kiss. It’s still so sloppy, wet, desperate; the kind of kiss that hurts, the kind that heals.

Sevika’s hands are frantic, roaming over your body like she has to relearn every curve, every dip, every shiver she pulls from you.

Her metal hand grips your thigh and drags it higher around her hip, grinding down into you so roughly you both gasp into each other’s mouths.

You tug at her hair, pull her closer until your teeth knock against hers again. Neither of you stop. Neither of you can.

“Fuck—” Sevika’s voice is raw, breathless, breaking apart as she mouths at your jaw, your shoulder, lower, biting like she can brand herself into you.

“Don’t— don’t you fucking leave me again.”

You clutch her face, forcing her to look at you, your forehead pressed against hers.

“You’re the one who pushed me away,” you rasp, but then you’re kissing her again, moaning into her mouth, because you can’t stop, because you don’t want to.

Your hips move together, slick and desperate, no rhythm, no finesse, just need.

The sounds spilling out of both of you are messy, helpless, filling the tiny room.

She buries her face in your neck, teeth dragging your skin raw.

You hold her tighter, nails carving lines into her back. Her whispers are broken between thrusts of her hips—“I know, I know— I know.”

And when release crashes through you, it’s violent, ripped out of your chest with a sob that Sevika swallows in a kiss.

She follows you down seconds later, cursing into your mouth, shaking against you, like she’s unraveling piece by piece.

After, she doesn’t let go. Her arms cage you in, her breath ragged against your shoulder, your pulse still thundering under her lips.

It’s still not careful, not soft, just clinging, desperate, like she’ll die if she lets you slip away again.

Sevika’s still half sprawled on top of you, her breath hot against your collarbone, her hand resting on your stomach like she’s afraid to move it.

The room smells like sex and sweat and the faintest trace of your perfume, of hers, and her chest is still heaving, trying to slow down.

You keep your hand in her hair, even though your body is trembling under her weight. Your lashes flutter, your lips still swollen from all the biting and kissing, but your eyes are sharp when they find hers.

And Sevika feels it hit her like a punch: that look.

The one that tells her you’re not going to let her run from this again.

That the next time she tries, you’ll walk out and stay gone.

She knows it’s on her now.

That she’s the one who has to put it all into words, even if words were never her strength.

So she just lies there, heart pounding, jaw clenched, trying to find the courage.

For now she keeps whispering “I know” like a prayer, because she’s not ready for more yet—but she will be. “Don’t leave”

And you know it.

You let her hold you, let her breathe you in like she’s anchoring herself, because you both understand it now: the sex wasn’t the fix, it was just the lifeline.

The real fix will be in the talking, in her finally telling you the truth she’s been choking down.

took so many hours writing, deleting, writing, deleting, adding, deleting… I probably did a few mistakes and I would love to talk about it because I KNOWWW I didn’t correct it. not only spelling errors but also the characters development I had to shorten because I felt like this was already too much, but I won’t talk abt it now, I’ll do it later. There’s so much to say actually.

I hope you’ll love it as much as I do! Even if it’s… a bit long and I probably repeated myself too many times and I’m too sick of my writing (after writing so much ofc, ykwim) to realize it now. Anyway, I NEED TO SLEEP

Thank you again everyone, I hope you enjoy it. ♡

@lonerslug @riotstemple29 @summ3rbummer @vikashoneybee

[savedenji]

⋆ rose moon.

mafia leader!sevika x younger!female!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you've always loved sevika, despite the tension between her and your father and their shaky alliance. it was only a matter of time before she loved you back. 

cw: sevi is in the mafia baby!!, age difference, dysfunctional family, older woman/younger woman, power dynamics, slight power imbalance, love confessions, not actually unrequited love, misunderstandings, explicit sexual content, masturbation, exhibitionism, strapping, sex toys, dom/sub undertones, top!sevika, praise kink, degradation kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, obsession, you get bratty and sevi isn't having it, protective sevika, oral fixation (implied), forbidden love, resolved sexual tension, seduction (you try lmao), non-sexual intimacy, bathing/washing, face-sitting, you've loved sevi since you were 17 but nothing happens till you're 20, and she doesn't even like you like that till you turn 19, mutual pining, sevi has better control though. notes: i love her so much. it's eating me alive. let me know if you want a pt. ii or if you have a request. love you.

since you were a young girl, you’d known there would be only one love of your life. it didn’t matter how many times you were destined to date or marry; there would be one person who would capture you, body and soul. you had resigned yourself to a life laced with symptoms of unhappiness if you were barred from being with them.

then you met sevika.

you had peeked around your mother’s hips—fourteen and praying for a growth spurt—your curious eyes drinking in the stark lines of your father’s office. sevika had been a brooding figure on the edge of his desk—a storm contained in a silk suit, her gaze weighty, her hands scarred and capable.

she was the most singularly beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you still believed that.

it was a clarifying moment in twofold: on one hand, you understood your family’s accusations of weakness had lost their sting the moment you saw light thread across the silvery skin of her scars. on the other, you realized you were underestimated. you would have sacrificed every ounce of your bloodline, sown salt into the earth of your familial legacy, if it meant you could be beholden to her for eternity.

anyone surprised by the revelation that you loved sevika simply hadn’t been paying attention. it felt as though, since you’d first learned to breathe, you’d been enamored with her.

when you were young, your family found it endearing—your wide-eyed infatuation with one of the most feared women in the city. you trailed after her, quiet but relentless, and she had been patient.

she let you cling to her hand when you were frightened, let you curl into her space when you sought attention. she was firm but fond, tolerant of your tantrums and the transgressions of a spoiled girl who had always been given too much and still wanted more.

despite the risks, sevika had allowed herself to possess a favorite. you used to cry alligator tears when she left for long periods—because you were seventeen and didn’t yet understand it.

once, she gripped your jaw when you’d earned it, twenty and fresh-mouthed, her calloused fingers pressing gently into the soft skin. you couldn’t name the feeling it stirred—something dangerous and deep as she stared you down—but it stayed with you. that moment clarified your vocation.

and so you began to push.

you fought for her—through her—tearing past every shield she raised: her doubts about the gap in your ages, her cruel certainty that you could never endure the life she’d lived, the life your parents kept hidden from you, or the world she was still shaping with her iron grip.

criminal, she’d spat once, the word acid on her tongue, as though it was a slur she couldn’t wash away. but you had only looked at her, calm and unwavering, and reminded her who your father was.

you knew the spores of your affection had spread, had infested her. her eyes would catch on the press of your breasts, how they strained against gowns you tailored to be unforgiving in their intent. she always lit a cigar to occupy her mouth when an admirer stole your attention, restraining herself from speaking out of turn.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” she told you once, back when you were still a simpering ingénue.

“i have always been sure of what i want,” you replied, unflinching. she had only chuckled, thumb grazing your chin before leaving you to your slow breath and trembling mouth.

your family would never forgive you for this—choosing her over them. their anger would hang in the air, an unspoken threat, and you would spend your life waiting for the moment someone came to drag you back, to force you into the inheritance you had defiled. they would call sevika a thief, accuse her of stealing you in the dead of night, as if your love for her were something to be taken rather than earned. but you were ready for this. willing to endure it all.

now, as you stepped from your bedroom, you thought of how tonight could not go wrong. it was her birthday, and this would be your greatest declaration of love.

the party would be a lavish celebration of her impressive journey.

you raised a hand to your cheeks, pressing down on the tight skin. the ache was familiar—a result of the constant, relentless smiling as you readied yourself for her arrival all night. you wondered if there would be bruises later, if the skin would turn mottled and rotten. you didn’t care. everything you did was a labor of love.

you felt her enter the house, the air around you seeming to breathe easier.

“[name]?” your mother called, her voice curling up the staircase.

“coming,” you answered, your body trembling with barely contained excitement.

♕𓃮

the party was gilded, extravagant.

you had planned it with trembling hands, pouring over every detail until the edges of your vision blurred and a headache surged, each choice made with the silent hope that sevika might experience happiness, if only for a moment. you had begged your parents for this, wrapped in promises of alliances and strengthened ties, though your intentions had always been singular.

you wore gold for her—another dress clinging to you like a second skin, the fabric shimmering like starlight. a soft veil draped over your hair, your neck adorned with delicate jewelry you’d once been too shy to wear. compliments whispered as you passed—some sincere, others crude—but all of them mingled in the haze of champagne and the soft hum of music. you could barely hear them, your pulse frantic as you searched for sevika within the crowd.

carefully, you began to climb the stairs, seeking a better vantage point.

“there you are, little bird.”

the words made you shiver, then preen. sevika’s voice swallowed you—low, rough, like smoke and gravel. you didn’t need to turn to know she was right behind you, her silhouette tall and imposing, haloed by the faint glow of the party below.

you turned, and your chest practically opened, eager to display your heart—weak, wanting. your mouth parted to offer birthday wishes, but a laugh sounded, sharp and cutting.

“look at her. she might as well have ‘kneel’ written across her forehead.”

“pathetic.”

you smiled through it, cheeks burning, despite your body threatening to collapse in on itself in embarrassment. sevika cast a sharp look that exacted a heavy silence, her mouth twitching with displeasure. without another word, the partygoers dispersed, and you touched your waist briefly to stabilize your body as it swayed in relief. she looked back at you, brow furrowed, studying your face.

pathetic.

that’s what they had called you.

“sweet girl.”

you tried to speak again, but only managed, “one moment. i need to check on the food.”

you weren’t sure where you were headed, but it wasn’t the kitchens. eventually, you found yourself upstairs in the darkened hallway of the east wing, hands braced against the edge of a credenza.

the music drifted faintly below, strings lilting up the staircase like spiteful ghosts. you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat.

“[name].”

as if struck, your body convulsed with shame as you realized sevika had followed you, only to find you like this. you must have looked so naïve, so stupid.

“sevika. i’m—i’m so sorry,” you whispered, not trusting yourself to meet her eyes. “i shouldn’t have left. the cake will be out soon. i just needed a moment.”

her boots crossed the wooden floors, deliberate and steady, until you felt her presence behind you. sevika—imposing and unshakable, as though the weight of the world couldn’t move her. and here you were, twenty years her junior, trembling beneath her gaze like a leaf caught in the breeze.

“turn around.”

you obeyed, as you always did, though your gaze stayed fixed on her chest. she was so close now, the scent of leather and something faintly metallic lingering on her. when you finally dared to glance up, you found her studying you—those dark eyes sharp, too knowing, as if she could see every jagged thought in your head.

“has it been like this all night?”

“sevika,” you said, and it was answer enough.

“that’s not what you usually call me,” she remarked, a slight curve to her mouth.

you flushed and tugged at your sleeves.

“i—well. i don’t think you need more reasons to view me as juvenile.”

sevika rolled her eyes, unimpressed at your jab.

“i don’t view you as juvenile, princess. i’m well aware you’re a woman.” she cast a long look over you after that, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as her gaze followed the pendant dipping into the rising swell of your breasts. “i don’t misunderstand that.”

“besides,” sevika continued. “i like it.”

you never could argue against pleasing her.

“well, it is your birthday,” you sighed, and she smiled.

“thank you, sweet girl.” she tilted her head. “you’re so good to me.”

you turned away again, pressing your fingers to your cheeks as if to send your blood flowing away with urgency.

“it’s alright if you’re upset. they were cruel to you,” she said.

you laughed softly, the sound hollow, and spun to face her. “they’re right, though, aren’t they? i’m… a silly, pathetic little thing. i thought—” you broke off, embarrassed. “it doesn’t matter.”

“tell me.”

your fingers curled around the edge of the credenza, the words clawing their way up your throat. “i thought maybe… if you saw what i thought of you—what i did for you—”

the words hung heavy, the silence stretching between you like a knife’s edge.

“what did you do?” sevika asked quietly, her voice unreadable. “show me.”

you hesitated, shame prickling beneath your skin.

“it was supposed to be your grand gift,” you said finally. “for tonight.”

“show me,” she repeated.

your heart stumbled, but you nodded, slipping past her and further down the hall. sevika followed, her footsteps a steady beat behind you as you led her to the study. your hands trembled as you unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out the deed.

“i bought it back,” you said softly, holding it out to her. “your family’s ranch. the one you lost when you were a child.”

sevika didn’t take it at first. she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, until you dropped your gaze.

“i know it’s foolish,” you murmured, the words rushing out in a whisper. “but you must know by now that i’ve loved you for my entire life. the world is somewhat right—i am a melancholic creature driven by my whims. a spoiled brat at times, but i could—” your voice caught. “i could be better. i just… i thought maybe if you saw what i thought of you, you’d…”

“decide to love you back?” sevika finished for you, her tone firm but not unkind.

you nodded, eyes stinging. this was horrible. how did people confess their feelings? it was like staring down the barrel of a gun. she still wasn’t speaking, and your ears were beginning to ring. the shot had sounded.

instead, she reached out, calloused fingers tipping your chin up until you were forced to meet her gaze. her expression had softened, though something dangerous lingered, coiled and waiting.

“princess,” she began, and you lifted yourself from her hold.

“it’s alright,” you said, voice weak. “i had to try one final time. we [last name(s)] were never good at admitting defeat.”

“[name].”

it almost sounded like pleading. you put distance between the two of you and hid your shaking fingers in the folds of your dress. the door loomed behind her, and you sidestepped her thick body, desperate to escape.

“it’s fine. i need to prepare your cake. i’ll see you in the ballroom.”

you turned back.

“oh, and happy birthday, sevi.”

♕𓃮

shame pressed hot against your chest.

the bath water was scalding, the steam curling thickly in the air, but it couldn’t quite reach the knot tightening in your throat. you pressed your cheek to your knees, the weight of the evening finally catching up to you. you let yourself drift, welcoming the disassociation. turns out you couldn’t do anything right—not even shield yourself from sevika’s quiet entrance into your bathroom.

she leaned against the counter, her presence steady, and cleared her throat. it took you several moments to notice her, and when you did, you let out an undignified shriek. without thinking, you sat up, instinctively covering yourself. with another shriek, you scrambled for a towel as she calmly turned, propping open the window next to the sink, releasing a thick ring of cigar smoke. she stepped forward, plucking the towel from your hands and pushing you—tenderly—back into the water.

“what the fuck, sevi?”

she laughed, a low, rich sound.

“there you are. i hated that simpering nonsense you were doing earlier.”

“you mean when i confessed my undying love for you, and you told me you didn’t feel the same?”

“no,” she answered, her voice a dark purr. “i mean when you told me you loved me, and then ran like a coward.”

you huffed, turning away, the shame settling deeper.

sevika sat beside you, her metal hand tugging gently at your hair. the other, still cradling her cigar, absently traced the line of your collarbone. she didn’t speak, but you leaned into her, seeking the comfort she offered without words. her scent, a blend of blackberry and whiskey, mingled with the rose-scented bath soap. the only sound was the soft lap of water against the sides of the tub.

still, the quiet was suffocating. you couldn’t suppress the gnawing self-deprecation that had been simmering for months. it rose like a flood, impossible to contain. the weight of it pressed against your chest, the last remnants of your resolve crumbling. when sevika put out her cigar, you took that as your cue.

“i resigned myself to a life of displeasure,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

sevika didn’t respond at first. she simply pulled you closer, her fingers tightening just enough to ground you. her lips brushed against the crown of your head, but you could feel the tension building in her body, the way she braced for what was coming. she knew something was about to break.

“i prepared myself to lose you in some way,” you said, the words tasting bitter. “there would be nothing after you. i’d marry as a fail-safe, in case the business needed an alliance. and if things got bad, maybe i’d just—”

the words hung in the air, brittle and sharp in their conjuring, before being shattered by sevika’s breath—a ragged, shuddering inhale. you felt the muscles in her arm tighten, as if she were holding herself together by a thread. when she spoke, her voice was low, raw, and dangerous.

“don’t,” she commanded, her words thick with fury, “ever say that to me again.”

you stared at her, startled by the force of her reaction, and found her face tight, her eyes blazing with something primal. she was holding herself together by the thinnest thread, and you realized that the thought of losing you, of you slipping away, was a wound deeper than anything physical.

her hand came to your face, gripping your jaw with careful strength. sevika’s eyes searched yours, the intensity of her gaze making your chest ache.

“do you think i’d be so cruel?” her voice cracked, as if it pained her just to ask. “that i would let you slip away into nothing?”

the rawness of her voice trembled through you. she wasn’t angry—not really.

“i would burn this whole fucking world down before i let you die, do you hear me?” sevika’s words came out in a low rasp. “i will always find a way to save you. i will protect you, no matter what it costs. even if you hate me for it. you are mine, and i will never let you go.”

you felt her hands tremble as they slid down your arms, as if memorizing every inch of you, ensuring you were still here. still breathing.

“you are so—”

her gaze hardened.

“i asked them,” she said, her voice steady now. “tonight. wanted to do it properly.”

“asked who?”

“your parents. i petitioned them for your hand.”

the words hit like a punch to the gut, and you recoiled, your mind scrambling. “and they said no?”

“mmm.” she nodded.

you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you pushed back, away from her, but she caught your wrist, holding you steady. your thoughts threatened to fracture.

“listen to me,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “that was a formality. it’s not their permission i need. it’s yours.”

you blinked up at her, your breath caught in your throat. “what are you saying?”

she stepped closer, her voice a low murmur.

“i’m saying you’re not a fool, sweet girl. you were brave tonight, and i’d like you to be mine, if you’ll still have me.”

“of course i still want you. are you dense?” you smiled, a shaky, indulgent smile, before your voice faltered. “but—what about—”

“forget them,” sevika interrupted, her tone sharp now, edged with steel. “i’ll take care of it. i’ll always take care of you.”

her words struck a pulse through you—not because you doubted her, but because you knew she meant them. sevika didn’t make empty threats.

you stared at her, your pulse quickening. “you mean—”

“we’ll go tonight.”

you gaped at her, but she only watched you with a fierce intensity that left no room for doubt. this was real.

“you’d take me with you?” you whispered.

her lips curled faintly, a ghost of a smile.

“of course, i would.”

your hands trembled as you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “yes.”

sevika’s hand found yours, steady and warm, pulling you closer.

“say it again.”

“yes,” you whispered.

her smile widened, dark and triumphant, as she leaned in, her voice a low rumble against your ear.

“good girl.”

and with that, your heart cracked open, and you lunged for her.

♕𓃮

if you desired her less, perhaps you would’ve been more coquettish, more in control. but nothing could have stopped your hunger.

still, as always, sevika steadied you. without any effort she caught the full weight of your body as you climbed into her arms, your hands like steel around her face. you bit at her mouth until she let you in, mewling as she pulled you into her lap. you shivered naked and wet, her large hands coming to cup your ass firmly as you plundered her mouth.

“steady, princess,” she murmured, pulling back to cup the nape of your neck. “i want this just as much. no need to work for it. i’ll give you want you need.”

“sevi,” you whimpered. “sevi, please.”

“mmm, i know.” sevika dipped her head down, sucking a dark mark into your neck. “i need you to do something for me first though.”

“anything.”

and she knew you meant it.

satisfied, sevika rose and walked you into your room. placing you gently on the bed, she used a hand to force your legs open. for a moment, she stood and watched your pussy glaze with arousal. she then leaned forward, sliding two fingers lightly through your cunt.

“so easy f’me.”

“sevi.”

sevika ducked down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before pulling away, her movements fluid as she made her way to the desk. in a series of precise motions, she positioned herself in front of the bed, settling into a wide, deliberate manspread. idly, she slipped off her shirt so that her tits were exposed, large and enticing. your mouth watered, and you felt a new wave of slick leave you.

“you just have to do this one thing, and then i’ll do whatever you want. does that sound good, princess?”

you nodded, desperate to obey her and earn your keep.

“good girl. now, i want to watch you get off.”

you froze.

“wh—what?”

“i want you to touch yourself,” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you weren’t this shy when you were, what was it, nineteen? yeah. you told me in great detail how you thought of me when you fucked yourself, how you had to shove a pillow over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.”

“i was—that was a moment of unsound judgement!”

“yeah. i thought about it every moment after.”

that shut you up.

“so, i want you to show me.”

her voice let you know that it wasn’t an option.

“okay,” you whispered.

you began to shallowly pump a finger inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering as you searched for that spongy dip in your walls that sends your head spinning. your thighs reigned open and sweaty; your cunt was spread wide and so pink. the lips were swollen, and you felt yourself leaking further under sevika’s relentless gaze.

“slower,” she instructed.

it took quite some effort for you to slow down your ministrations, but you needed to be good. you let out a hiccup of pleasure as your knuckles clipped your clit, rosy and full. a throaty moan burst from you as sevika shifted, bringing her head forward to maintain eye contact. your fingers picked up the pace, and your eyes grew heavy as you felt your pleasure begin to crest.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck, sevi. right there, please.”

you realized sevika was still mostly clothed, certainly more than you were, and that deepened the heat in your stomach. you whimpered pathetically as you pressed harder into yourself, adding two more fingers and riding them to abandon. you slumped further into the mattress, rubbing viciously at your clit to add more stimulation.

“please. please. please. please.” this was your form of prayer. “fuuuuck!”

your head snapped back as you led yourself to your first orgasm, a wail rising from somewhere deep in your chest.

“sevika.”

she loomed over you, settling her hands on your hip. her eyes were practically two pools of black, her irises swallowed by her dilated pupils. you reached a hand up to graze along the underside of her bob, and she caught your wrist, kissing right against the fine bones resting underneath your skin.

you softened and made a small noise of contentment. she looked back you.

“turn over.”

you abided.

♕𓃮

despite how much you’d imagined it, nothing to compared to the real feel of sevika fucking you.

you were surprised that she’d chosen penetration first and said as much, but she’d only smirked at you from where she was adjusting her holster.

“don’t worry. i plan to make you finish on my face.”

you couldn’t find it in you to be upset.

now, she had you back in her lap and riding her. your back was slick against her chest, her nipples hard and rigid against your spine. she pulled your hair, drawing your head back and biting down into your throat.

“holy shit,” you moaned.

“i know, sweet girl. no one’s ever given you what you needed before, hmm? doesn’t it feel good?”

“yeah,” you agreed, high and breathy, and she laughed.

you loved it when she laughed.

desperate to cum for the second time, you placed a hand on her thigh and slammed yourself down. lazily, sevika sucked your earlobe into your mouth and drew circles around your clit.

“look at that, princess. you’re leaving a little ring around me. jesus,” she sighed, as if put out, “you’re such a fucking whore.”

you moaned loudly, and she drew away from your clit and began to play with one of your tits instead.

“you know i’m right. that’s why you just tightened around me. you’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut who wants to be filled.”

“by you,” you gasped out.

“yes,” sevika said. with a cry, you were pulled off of the dildo and rearranged beneath her. “by me.”

as if to further prove the point, she brought your legs together and pushed them back until she could mount you.

“fuck, baby. you feel like a dream.”

you clenched. you wanted this to be good for her.

“shit,” she groaned and sped up her thrusts, her hips slapping against your ass.

“sevi, please. please give it to me. i’ve been so good.”

sevika nodded sympathetically, pulling your legs apart so she could put them over her shoulder.

“i know you have.”

you weren’t even hearing her at this point, just bearing down so that you could feel her in your throat. your nails dug into her back, and she hissed at the pain. the ache only pushed her, increasing the force of her thrust until her tits were bouncing with the effort.

“c’mon, princess. are you gonna finish for me? i want you to cum on my cock. paint it for me.” her eyes narrowed, honing in on her prize. “come on.”

with a wordless scream, your body arched upward, your pussy spasming as you squirted all over the bed.

“oh, fuck,” you moaned. “shiiiit, sevi. oh my god.”

“mmm,” was all she said, still intent on delivering on her promise.

your world once again turned on its axis as she picked you up, bringing you to sit on her chest. stupidly, you only stared down at her, and she couldn’t suppress a half smile.

“and i here i thought you were all work and no play,” she teased, dragging you upward until you hovered over her mouth.

“humor me, princess,” she ordered. “settle.”

we'll be happy, you thought.

she opened her mouth, tongue extended, and you fell.

© hcneymooners.

[savedenji]

Enemies to lovers, but only one of them thinks they're enemies. The other has been entirely obsessed since the beginning.

Only acceptable way for me to read this trope

[savedenji]

#neck

[savedenji]

— queens

pairing: queen!sevika x princess!reader

synopsis: your parents -king and queen of Piltover- were in desperate need of paying back their rival kingdom, and their best way to do that was selling you off to the queen of Zaun.

warnings: dark themes, age gap, power imbalance, corruption, manipulation, hinted purity standards, mtf sevika (cut this g!p shit out rn), mean!sevika outside of sex, inexperienced!reader, praise, fingering, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus, pussy slaps, spanking, so much consent!, multiple orgasms, blowjob, light degradation, insane amounts of dirty talk, minor perv!sevika, sub!top!sevika if you squint

wc: 5.1k

a/n: in this piltover and zaun are two entirely separate entities, they don't rely on each other for anything, not similar to arcane. like always thank you to gf @sevsgiirl for all the help and encouragement along the way <3 special thanks to @v1kastr4p for the inspo!!!

If someone had told you two years ago that you’d be married off to the king of your kingdom’s rival, you wouldn’t have believed them.

In your defense, two years ago, your father was still alive, and your kingdom hadn’t yet fallen on hardship, reliant on Zaun for funds to feed your citizens. Piltover thrived before your fathers death, but your parents' production of no male heirs led to turmoil when his rule came to an end.

Naturally, Zaun wanted penance for aiding your country back onto its feet after your fathers death. You were far too weak and poor to repay them with funds, and that, unfortunately, is where you came in. Against your wishes or will, your mother practically sold you off to them - insistent that you wouldn’t ever rule in Piltover, so you didn’t hold a role in the country.

The following week, you were gone.

At the ripe age of twenty five, your mother pushed the idea that you were a prude, and far too old to be married. She claimed that if you didn’t marry the king in Zaun, you weren’t ever to be married, even though you didn’t even like men. And so, with many tears and much screaming, you packed your things and got shipped off to Zaun.

That’s where you stood now - the pearl gates with purple accents were locked before you, the last thing you were to see before entering the kingdom you would spend the rest of your life in. The guards were quick to open the gates for your carriages, and off you went.

You had been to Zaun once before in your childhood, but the country was drastically different now. It thrived, dark aura shooting through the streets and through the bones of every passerby. It wasn’t anything like Piltover. PIltover thrived on the idea of likeness, one way or another forcing every citizen to fall in the same line, copies of each other.

But here. Here, the subjects existed in utter uniqueness. Some rich, some poor, brought together by a common good. Your fear briefly subsided as people lined the street to welcome you. Children threw flower petals as the adults smiled and waved, a welcome that you would’ve never received in the coldness of your own country.

For a moment, it all seemed as if it would be okay. But, the moment ended as the carriage neared the palace. It was gorgeous, in its own defense. Lined with bushes of purple roses, made of old white stone. It was a vision, and a stunning reminder of your reason for being here. Trumpets sounded as your carriage came to a halt and the doors swung open, guards waiting for you as you stepped out.

Cameras were quick to flock to you, flashes coming from each direction, paralyzing you. Your arrival was international news, meaning that every news anchor under the sun was waiting for you, like some kind of celebrity.

You were escorted in and taken to a room, where several chairs rested in a circle. A woman sat next to the king’s spot, presumably a stewardess, and a knight was posted by the door. Otherwise, the room was empty and dark, the least welcoming of anything thus far.

“Princess!” the woman shot up from her seat, rushing to you. “What a pleasure it is to welcome you to Zaun. Please, sit. Her majesty will be with us shortly, she was attending a meeting. Would you like anything to eat? I understand your travels were long.” You gave her a polite no, hardly focusing on anything other than her use of a female pronoun.

Several minutes passed before the doors opened. Her majesty was announced, and you stood with Elora. As she took her seat - the king’s seat - your pulse quickened past anything it ever had. The woman was beyond brooding but undeniably attractive; tall past words, muscle that of a god, neutral expression as if this was a tedious activity. Her hair fell messily from a bun on the back of her head, and you wondered how on earth her stewardess let her get away with that.

“Piltover’s princess,” she spoke, gruffly. “Welcome to Zaun.” Her face was dressed with a smirk, the expression clearly reading that she knew something you didn’t. When you met her eyes, the grey in them sparkled, and her tooth gap poked out from behind the smirk.

“When will I speak with the king? I am to be married and I would love to finally meet the man in question.” You weren’t having the woman’s snideness, not after all that you’d gone through. “If there’s something wrong, I beg you to send me back to Piltover.”

“I am the king, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.” Your mouth fell agape.

“You-you’re a woman,” you scoffed, your own bewilderment getting the best of you. You had heard a great deal of rumors about the king from the night staff in Piltover, but you never thought any of them were true.

“Seems that way,” she said flatly. “We are to be married tomorrow in the evening. Your maid will assist you with your dress and whatever else you may need. Elora will tell you everything else you need to know.” She pushed the chair back and stood, not glancing in your direction before walking out of the room.

You looked around frantically, the need for answers polluting your brain. “Before you say anything,” Elora interrupted your breakdown, “I understand that this situation is confusing for someone who comes from such a conservative country. Your answers will come with time. For now, we must get you to your chambers.” She said it as if it was your fault for your lack of understanding. Well, it could've been. Piltover wasn’t a progressive country, and whatever was happening here wasn’t something that would ever happen there.

All you were absolutely sure of is that you were in for one hell of a ride.

-

Weddings were typically something that changed the path of someone’s life. It was the covenant bond between two people - souls intertwined, so deeply and passionately in love that they agreed to spend the rest of their lives together. But that wasn’t the situation for you, and it killed you inside.

The wedding was everything someone else could’ve desired. You got any dress you wanted, there was a marvelous party with tables and tables worth of food and drinks. Your family made the trip just to attend. Paparazzi took picture after picture of the ‘hot new happy couple’ - pictures that were worldwide news in moments.

You let yourself enjoy what you could, until it was over. Until the buzz ended and the castle rested for the night. Until you were back in your shared chambers, looking at yourself in the mirror with Sevika nowhere to be found. You figured she was tending to another woman until she abruptly appeared, several buttons of her shirt coming undone at the top.

You turned to her, faced with the inevitable reality of what was to come next on a wedding night. You looked at each other for a moment before she got bored and walked past you, going into the closet to fetch sleepwear.

“So what? That’s it?” You scoffed, embarrassment burning in your face as you looked at the underdressed woman sitting before you.

“What else is there to do? We’re married. It’s over.” You practically shrieked in frustration.

“The seal. What a married couple does on the night of their wedding.” She continued untying her dress shoes before what you said truly set in. Slowly, she glanced up at you, brows knit at your angered expression and arms crossed over your chest.

“Are you trying to say that you wanna fuck?” Your mouth fell agape.

“That’s incredibly crude-”

“We’re not doing that. You’re not ready.” She stood once her shoes were off and you stopped her in her path, finger against her chest. If you weren’t so angry, the position would’ve enamored you. To even meet her eyes, you had to look up… and up, and up. Wisps of her hair flew out across her face, and unfortunately, her uncaring expression was almost attractive. But you hated her. Simple.

“You don’t get to decide what I am and am not ready for. I believe in a seal and we are to do it.” She took your wrist in her hand and squeezed it, moving it away from her chest. Your skin warmed and tingled, the pads of her fingers grazing tightly against your veins.

“You’ll learn here that you don’t always get what you want. I’m returning to my own separate room and staying there. There is no such thing as a seal in Zaun. Goodnight, princess.” She walked away without another word, ignoring your yelling that chased her out the door.

The following two weeks took the same schedule day to day: sleep in separate chambers, eat at separate times, exercise, read, eat dinner together, repeat. Elora insisted that it was merely because the queen was busy, but you reminded her each time that you were also the queen, and therefore should be included in her activities and decisions. It got you nowhere.

The single thing that kept you going was the one event you had in your future; your first public outing with Sevika. You were to go to a children’s hospital and read to them together, and you were beyond excited. Unfortunately, it meant spending time with your estranged wife, but you would suffice.

The day came and you woke before your maid even made it to your bedroom in the morning. You wore the royal equivalent of a sundress - a pale yellow dress that fell to your ankles and covered your shoulders, modest in the eyes of Piltover. You hadn’t yet conformed to the ideals of Zaun yet, and you feared you never would.

Your routine followed its typical schedule, except that you were waiting by the doors once your breakfast was finished. Sevika didn’t pay you a glance before getting into the carriage, leaving you standing at the castle doors like a ditz.

“Nice to see you too.” You gritted out from clenched teeth as you climbed in. The jumble of words already had her sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. “You act like being around me is the worst curse placed on your bloodline. You understand we’re married, yes?”

“Enough,” she sneered. “Keep talking like that and I’ll turn this carriage around and leave you in the castle,” with a roll of your eyes, you huffed and sank into the seat. “We both must look like we’re in love when we get there. Start practicing, you’re not any good at acting.”

“And how are you so sure?” You snapped.

“You pretend as if I’m the villain and you’re desperate for my attention, but you’re just as miserable as me.” Her expression was flat. “All that matters is that the news doesn’t get an inkling that we’re miserable. Figure it out.”

The carriage came to a halt before you could answer, and the doors swung open moments later. People crowded the hospital, smiling and throwing flowers just like they had when you arrived. Sevika got out first, pausing and extending a hand for you. Begrudgingly, you took it, grinning and waving out at the crowd as you followed in her footsteps.

To your misfortune, the outing had you briefly marveling at Sevika. She worked with children like it was her job, animating stories like nothing you’d seen before, and the children adored it. She knew each of them by name, and talked to them about their stays and how they were managing. For a moment you pondered whether her mean nature was simply a facade, until you were reminded of the conversation in the carriage - all that mattered was how the news viewed you.

Everything went fine until you finally had a moment apart.

A child approached you; short, brown hair, brown eyes, caramel skin. He was adorable, and you were moved as soon as he came up to you and pulled on the skirt of your dress. “Queen,” he said, and you crouched to his height, holding his hands gently. “Why are you and the queen not together?” You sighed.

“Well, the queen isn’t always the nicest person. Sometimes she isn’t very kind to be around. But it’s a good reminder that we should be kind to everyone.” With a quick ‘okay’, he hugged you and ran off, reuniting with the group.

You shared a story reading with Sevika and posed for pictures with the children before leaving, and it struck you that the moment was over the second you sat in the carriage. Your only scheduled outing, only human interaction outside of Elora and the coldness of your wife, over. Just like that.

“I’m setting you up for etiquette lessons.” Sevika drew you away from your train of thought. “You perform terribly in public. Elora will add them into whatever you do during the day.” You groaned, running your hands over your face.

“Not only is that not your place, but you would know what I do during the day if you bothered spending longer than one meal with me. I’m only miserable because I have no interaction with anyone. We’re stuck together whether you like it or not and you better get used to it.”

“You’re not better than me because you insist on getting close immediately.” She pushed you off with a shrug and the carriage remained quiet for the rest of the trip home, you too angry to respond to her digs.

When you returned to the palace, you promptly climbed out of the carriage before her and stormed in and up to your quarters. The situation infuriated you. You decided in the midst of your pacing that you would insist that she let you do things off of the castle grounds, anything, if it meant that you could see and talk to other people.

When you finally manned up enough to talk to her, the doors to your bedroom were being thrown open, and there she was before you. She looked like she could combust at any moment, so angry that the tips of her ears were red. “I was just about to-” she cut you off, crowding into the room and slamming the door behind her.

“Shut up. What the fuck is this?” She threw a newspaper at you and you caught it. Glancing down, you read the first page - “Problems in the Palace?”. The front page article was next to a picture of you with the boy you talked to in the hospital, and it went into detail about the things you said to him.

“I made a mistake, it's not the end of the world, Sevika. You’re overdramatizing this.” She ran her hands through her hair, gripping the roots harshly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody cares about where you’re from or what happens there. This is global news! This could end trade agreements and public relations. Are you fucking dense?” You cringed, realizing the reality of the situation.

“I was honest about our situation to a child. We’ll have every other outing to disprove that idea.” She groaned and you rolled your eyes, popping a hip out and placing your hand on it.

“Honest? Is that what you call it? We don’t speak to one another. There isn’t any unkindness in my palace. Get a grip.” Your anger was already growing, but her insistence on pretending as if your feelings didn’t matter only got you going further.

“No unkindness? What do you call what happened in the carriage? Or our wedding night?” She laughed, loud and howling, before looking at you with an angry grin.

“That’s what this is all about? The fact that I refused to fuck you a month ago?” You ran your hands over your face once again, hoping that it would wash away the sight in front of you. Talking to her was like talking to a wall, but on the mild occasion, the wall was correct.

“It was the seal of our marriage. It mattered to me. I hardly even consider us married. But that doesn’t outweigh every other time you’ve been an absolute dick to me.” She rolled her eyes, stepping towards you to lean against the pillar of your bed.

“Hey princess, what actually happens during the seal?” She taunted. You couldn’t formulate an idea. Any discussion of reproduction was one that wasn’t had in Piltover - not to mention how it works with another woman. She laughed again when your gaze fell to your feet and your thumbs twiddled together. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about and you expect me to fuck you?”

“God forbid not all of us sleep around nightly. I’m sure you’ve had a new woman in your bed every night since I got here, but I wouldn’t know since we don’t even share quarters!” Your voice rose and she was in your face in seconds, bent over you.

“Do not ever make the assumption that just because I don’t like you I am not loyal to you. You are my wife and I treat you like such. I would never court another woman.” Strangely, your heart warmed.

“Then why won’t you do it with me? You claim I’m your wife. Teach me if you insist I know so little.” Her eyes closed, the ability to keep looking at you becoming taxing, as she released a harsh breath through her nose.

“You must be absolutely sure that this is what you want. I still don’t think you’re ready. Have you ever even kissed anyone?” She met your eyes, brows knit.

“Well- no. But I can’t imagine that it’s that difficult-” Her head rolled back and she moved away from you with a groan. On instinct you reached out, grabbing her flesh wrist.

“Jesus,” she pulled you in by your grip on her wrist and caught your jaw in her mech hand, leaning down to kiss you with no hesitation. Your eyes shot open as her mouth found your own, but they fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss. The metal of her hand was cool against the warm blush in your cheeks.

Her flesh hand curled around your waist as your hands came up behind her neck, pulling you into her warm, hard body. You moaned when her tongue ran along your lip, opening your mouth to let her in. Her tongue ran over your own, sucking on it and pulling moans from your body like it was nothing.

And like that, she pulled away, leaving you dazed, pupils blown, lips swollen. “There you go, princess. First kiss.” Your stomach turned, warmth pooling in your panties. She was cocky, looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling.

“That was nice,” you squeaked, head too full of lewd thoughts to say much more. She laughed again, less harsh this time, as she bent down and placed a gentle kiss under your ear. Your hands gripped her large shoulders, nails digging into them over the fabric of her night shirt.

“Nice, huh? ‘s that all you have to say, sweetheart? Need you to use your words for me.” Your grip got even tighter. She pressed another kiss into the column of your throat. “That got you going, didn’t it?” You nodded frantically as her teeth pulled at your skin, tongue darting out immediately after.

“Vika,” you whined, making her move to make eye contact with you. “I want more.” She could’ve  moaned right then, but she chose to lift you by your waist instead, dropping you onto your bed. Your hair fanned out on your pillow, night dress riding up your thigh. You were a sight.

Sevika kneeled between your legs, spreading them carefully as she planned her next move. Gently, she ran her thumb along your heat, making you twitch and moan. “This is your cunt. She belongs to me, y’know that bunny? She’s all mine.” Her hand came down over your cunt with a precise slap and you whimpered, gripping the sheets. “If you want to stop, you need to tell me, princess.”

“No, no, don’t stop Vika, please.” Your hips rolled off the bed as you attempted to meet her hand once again. “It’s so warm, need you.” Her pupils were blown, watching you practically hump the air in need.

“It’s ‘cause you’re wet, sweetheart. You’ll get what you need eventually.” She leaned over you, hands pushing your thighs up to make room for herself. She kissed your neck, leaving more marks throughout, until she had worked her way down to the neck of your nightdress. “Can I take this off?” You nodded again, earning you another slap against your clit. “Words.”

“Yes Sevi,” you whined. She lifted the garment over you, leaving you in nothing but your panties. She wasted no time attaching her mouth to your boob, sucking your nipple into her mouth and rolling it between her tongue. “Feels so good.” She moaned around your boob, only sucking harder.

By the time she was done with your tits, you were sure hours had gone by. You were absolutely soaked, clit beating so harshly you were sure you were going to explode. She left open mouthed kisses across your ribs and stomach until she finally got to where you needed her most. “Tell me it’s okay for me to continue.”

“It-it’s okay, please, Vika.” She slipped your panties down your legs and her own shirt over her head, leaving you bare. For a moment, she just looked at your pussy, marveling at it.

And then, of course, she took a fat lick from the bottom up to your clit, swirling her tongue around it before sucking it into her mouth. You cried out, locking your hand in her hair as your other hand gripped the sheets tightly. You pushed her head down and she moaned, drunk off the feeling of your cunt in her mouth.

Sevika wouldn’t admit it to you, but she had wanted you since the day she met you. The day in the conference room, where you gave her attitude right off the bat. She wanted you so bad that she had to restrict how often she saw you so that this inevitable event could be prevented. She knew you didn’t want to be here and was sure you didn’t actually want to sleep with her outside of the obligation to.

Yet, here you were, crying and moaning like this was the best thing to ever happen to you. She fucked you with her tongue until your thighs were locking around her head, and she let them, licking up every single drop as you came for the first time.

Tears poured from your eyes when she didn’t let up, middle finger probing your entrance before you could come down from your orgasm. “Sev, it’s so much,” you whimpered as her finger slid into you with ease. She could barely respond as she watched you take her finger like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good girl, bunny. Suckin’ me in like you need it to live.” She crooked her finger, hitting the special spot inside of you and you shrieked. “There she is, that’s my girl. Can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.” She pushed another finger into you and you cried at the stretch, the burning feeling disappearing soon after when she hit that spot again. “Gonna stretch you out nice and well, how’s that sound, sweet girl?” You moaned, a third finger circling you. You wondered how big she was if it meant you had to take three fingers to fit her.

She fucked you through your second orgasm, sucking her fingers clean once you finished. She was palming her bulge through her pants, waiting for you to regain your ability to speak. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” She was trying and desperately failing to maintain a calm persona, but she was so hard it hurt and the idea of fucking you dumb was making her head spin.

You sat up, replacing her hand with your own. “I want to,” you looked up at her as you copied the motions she had just done. She cursed, eyes rolling back as her flesh had shot out to your wrist. She didn’t stop you, but she held your wrist like it was a lifeline.

“Get on your knees,” you did as told, scrambling up and lowering onto your knees in front of the bed. Your hands rested on your thighs and you waited as she discarded her pants and boxers. The sight of her from below was stunning - tits out, abs glistening, dick waiting for you. You stuck your tongue out, knowing nothing but the fact that you wanted it in your mouth.

It was big, bigger than you could’ve imagined. You’d hardly ever seen one, only once in a movie that you had smuggled into Piltover, and hers was nothing like the one in the movie. Her veins curved around it and it twitched when she placed the tip into your open mouth. You closed your mouth around it, sucking, and she moaned like a bitch in heat.

“You’re so fuckin’-so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Fuck, jus’ like that.” Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you further into her until you gagged around her. “C’mon, just a bit more, you sound so pretty.” Tears ran down your cheeks as you sucked her in as far as you could, mouth full to the brim.

Abruptly, she pulled your head back, letting you take a deep breath. Your tongue lolled out again, wanting her back in your mouth, but she shook her head. “If I put my dick back in your mouth I’ll cum.” You sighed.

“I want you to.” She shook her head again, lifting you onto the bed while you giggled.

“How ‘bout I fill your pretty cunt instead?” She dropped you down, pushing your thighs up to your chest. She ran her tip over your clit before hooking it into your entrance and beginning to push in. She could hardly contain herself, groaning before the first inch was even in.

Once she had you stretched so far that you doubted your ability to walk in the morning, she began her pace, fucking you slowly. She leaned over you, head falling into the crook of your shoulder as she fucked you as deep as she could. “You’d look so good, full of my babies. Wanna breed you until you can’t even see straight.”

Your back arched off the bed, clenching around her. She sat up, mech thumb rubbing circles into your clit while her flesh hand pushed down on your tummy. The bulge of her dick poked up and she almost came just off the picture of it. “Fuck Vika,” you moaned as she hit the spongy spot that you needed her most. “Please cum in me,” you begged, reaching out to pull her in. “Please, please cum in me.”

“Filthy fucking princess,” Her pace quickened, “what would they think if they all saw you now? Begging to get your cunt filled like a dirty whore?” The tone switch had you screaming and scratching down her back. “Bet you’d like if everyone saw you like this.”

“Sev, please don’t stop I’m so close, please-" the air was punched out of you as she lifted you and flipped you, pushing down on the back of your throat to get you to arch. She was fucking you so hard that you could barely breath, using her grip around your throat to pull you back onto her dick.

Her hand came down on your ass, slapping it so hard that red bloomed in the shape of it. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, bunny,” she groaned, “thought about you every time I came.” You clenched so hard you worried she wouldn’t be able to thrust.

It wasn’t a lie, even though she was embarrassed to admit it. Your pretty lips and even prettier hips, always in dresses that fit you so well. There wasn’t a time where she didn’t look at you and think about taking you right then and there. At night, when the castle had quieted and she came in ropes to the scent of your panties on her face, she was disgusted in herself, but you were just so perfect.

She was done for when your little ‘uh uh uh’s started, pounding you so far into the mattress everyone in the castle could hear. “Vika, ‘m gonna-”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Come with me, make a mess, please,” you never thought that Sevika would be the type to beg and neither did she, but she needed you to come so bad it was all she could think about.

Your legs shook, coming so close to giving out that she had to hold you in place. You came with a snap in your stomach for what felt like an eternity, and Sevika was close behind you. She lifted you, pulling you against her chest as she continued fucking into you. “Can I cum in you?” she groaned. “Please, please I’ll be good, I’ll be nice, whatever you want just- fuck, let me fill you up.” You whimpered, soaking her dick.

“Yes, Vika, cum in me.” She pushed you back down and was coming seconds later, curses falling from her lips as she used you. It was truly a miracle how much she came, ropes and ropes coating you until you were swollen.

She pulled out and collapsed next to you, unable to hold herself up any longer. You flipped over and laid back, cum dripping out of you as you panted. When Sevika had regained conscious thought, she was quickly back between your legs, using her tongue as a means to clean you up. “You did so fucking good,” she mumbled as she left soft kisses across your thighs.

She got you a towel and clothes, cleaning you and dressing you like you were a doll. She didn’t leave, happily opting to lay in bed with you for the rest of the night. “I’m sorry for being so cold, princess. I figured you hated me for having you here.” You snuggled into her chest further.

“I did in the beginning, but I’m sure we’ll get along great eventually.” She kissed the top of your head, breathing slowly, and you laid like that until the both of you drifted off into sleep. Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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