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hell0-ki55y · 1 month ago

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HOLY MOLYYYYY😩

ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡ abby + dumbification

thinking about abby who doesn’t even realize she’s turned you into a dumb pretty girl. it wasn’t on purpose—she’s just so capable, so gentle, and strong. that before you knew it, you stopped lifting a finger around her.

cw: dumbification, fingering (r!receiving), soft dom!abby, slight choking. this was my demons telling me i should write more smut ... (,,¬﹏¬,,)

it starts slow. innocent.

at first, abby doesn’t mean to coddle you. she opens doors without thinking, reaches across the car to buckle your seatbelt, drapes her jacket over your shoulders when it’s even slightly cold, she carries your purse, holds your hand when you cross a busy street, opens your water bottles, and watches you with that small frown when you even try to do anything yourself.

it’s instinct. at least, that’s what she tells herself. but somewhere along the way, something shifts. she starts noticing how easily you let her do things, and then it hits her—hard. you’re too pretty to be doing anything on your own. too soft, too sweet, too delicate to be struggling with stubborn zippers or heavy doors. it almost makes her angry, seeing you lift a finger when she’s right there.

“you really can’t help yourself, huh?” you tease one day, laughing as she lifts you off the counter like you weigh nothing.

“you shouldn’t have to do anything,” abby mutters, brushing your hair behind your ear. “not when i’m here.”

you raise a brow. “even things i’m perfectly capable of doing?”

she grins. “especially those, baby.”

and it only gets worse from there.

she starts cutting your food for you when you're not paying attention. holds your chin so you drink water. gets grumpy when you won’t let her help you into your coat. she doesn’t even let you put on your shoes anymore.

abby knows you could do it all yourself—but she’ll never let you. because if you’re gonna be this pretty and helpless around her, she’s gonna ruin you for anyone else ever trying to treat you like anything less than a princess.

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you’re standing in the hallway, struggling to drag a box full of your spring clothes that’s too heavy for you. it’s not even that big, but it’s the kind of thing abby could carry with one arm without even thinking about it, but you’re trying anyway.

she watches from the doorway for a second, silent—thinking about how you look cute like that, trying so hard to do something she could do for you. but then you glance up at her—wide, pretty eyes. your lip caught between your teeth. breath coming a little faster from the effort.

“baby,” she says, voice low.

you tilt your head. “yeah?”

she walks up to you. “what are you doing?”

you give her a shy look, like you know exactly how this is going to end up. “i’m just trying to move this box.”

“why are you doing it when i’m right here?” abby asks.

you shrug, playfully. “i didn’t wanna bother you, abs.”

abby lets out a short, quiet laugh. “bother me? you don’t bother me, sweetheart.”

her eyes never leave yours. you blink up at her again, and abby sighs at the sight of those pretty lashes fluttering, lips parted like you might ask for help but just can’t bring yourself to.

she grabs the box effortlessly, pushes it aside like it weighs nothing, and then her hands are on your hips. “you don’t lift shit when i’m around,” she whispers, forehead pressed to yours now. “you know that, right?”

you nod, breath hitching. "i know."

“say it,” she almost sounds like she’s pleading.

“i don’t lift shit when you’re around,” you repeat with a little smile.

her lips crash into yours—hot, hungry, still laced with that frustration from seeing you strain without her. her hands are rough on your hips, guiding you back against the wall, like she needs you pinned there to calm herself down.

“next time you need something,” she murmurs, dragging her lips down your jaw, “you call for me. you ask. you use that pretty mouth for something useful.”

your knees go weak. she catches you before you can even stumble. “yes, abs.”

“told you,” she breathes, kissing your pulse point. “too fucking pretty to be lifting anything but your skirt for me.”

you barely have time to catch your breath before she scoops you up. “hey—”

“shh,” she murmurs, already carrying you down the hall. her arms are firm around you, one under your thighs, the other across your back, and you’re helpless in her hold. “you’ve done enough for today.”

you huff a quiet laugh, still dazed. “i barely did anything!"

“exactly,” she says, glancing at you with a grin. “and even that was too much.”

you bury your face in her neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks burn. she’s so warm, skin flushed from the kiss and the way she needs to take care of you. every step toward the bedroom is deliberate.

“abs…” you whisper, fingers gripping the collar of her shirt.

she kicks the door open with her foot and sets you down on the bed—gently, but her hands don’t leave you, though. she hovers over you, crowding you in with that look again. hungry. reverent. possessive.

“my princess,” she whispers as she presses a kiss on the shell of your ear.

you tremble under her, thighs pressing together instinctively. she notices—of course she notices.

“my pretty doll,” abby mutters, trailing her hand slowly down your stomach, over your hips. ��you try so hard to be helpful,” she says, kissing your neck now. “but i don’t want your help, baby. i want you pretty for me, spoiled, and mine. that’s it”

your eyes flutter shut, biting your lip.

“and you are, aren’t you?” she asks.

“mhm,” you hum.

abby smirks against your skin, voice dropping even lower. “good. now let me remind you what you should be doing with those pretty hands… you should be grabbing my shoulders, my hands—pulling my hair, even—but not lifting boxes.”

you nod under her, already breathless, pupils wide and shining. abby just watches you for a second like she can’t believe how sweet you are.

“lay back,” she says softly.

you do, instantly, pliant as anything, arms falling to your sides like you’ve been waiting for this exact moment ever since you tried carrying that box. abby's big hands drag along your waist, your ribs, your thighs. she kisses your forehead, your temple, the inside of your wrist—like you’re something to be worshipped, not rushed.

“i fucking love when you do that,” she mutters against your shoulder, her braid tickling your skin. “looking up at me all helpless like that. all soft and needy, like you don’t even know how to ask for what you want.”

your breath stutters. your thighs twitch under her. “abby, please—”

“what do you want, baby?” she asks.

“you,” you whisper.

she smiles, but it’s crooked. “yeah? want me to take care of you?”

you nod again, and it’s immediate—automatic. her palm slides up your chest and gently wraps around your throat, not squeezing, just resting there.

“so dumb,” she murmurs. “my dumb baby.”

your back arches into her, chasing the heat of her body. she groans, thumb brushing the skin of your neck while her other hand slips between your thighs, fingers ghosting over your soaked underwear.

“look at that,” she says, grinning against your cheek. “you don’t need to think. you just need me.”

you whimper, hips tilting into her hand. “i do need you, abs—”

“i’ll do everything for you,” she whispers. “fuck you how you need. take care of you. think for you. all you have to do is lie here, look pretty, and let me make you feel good. you don’t have to do anything more.”

you only hum in response, utterly gone by the sound of her voice.

“words, sweetheart,” she says, lips at your ear now.

“yes—please, abby,” you whisper. “please.”

she kisses you like she’s angry and in love all at once. her hand on your throat is still gentle. her body is pressing you down into the mattress like she wants to sink you into the bed. abby pulls your panties down slowly—two thick fingers slipping through your wetness, spreading you open with practiced care, but not really giving you anything, causing you to whine.

“already so wet for me, huh?” she says, dragging her fingers just barely where you need them. “you’re so good. so easy. i barely even have to try.”

you moan, hips rocking up, and her fingers slip in—thick and perfect, pressing deep with a slow curl that makes you cry out. “fuck, abs.”

she always fucks you with control and patience. every thrust is firm, fingers reaching places no one else ever could. her thumb rests on your clit, circling slowly and carefully.

“that’s it, baby,” she coos. “don’t think. just feel.”

your mouth falls open. your hands grip her arm, and her palm tightens around your throat.

“you’re mine, yeah?” she asks.

“yes—yes, abby,” you utter in response. “i’m all yours—all yours.”

she groans, biting gently along your shoulder, as you start to clench around her fingers. you’re getting close, every part of you wound tight, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“let go, doll,” she whispers. “so dumb and pretty—just for me.”

abby’s fingers don’t stop—ever. each movement is deliberate, calculated, but it’s too much for you. her thumb presses harder on your clit, swirling just the right way, while she holds you still under her. every time you try to squirm or lift your hips, she pins you down with ease, barely needing to put any pressure on you to stop your movements.

“shh,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss you softly, gently—even if you can’t kiss back properly. “i’ve got you, baby. you can take it.”

your legs are shaking now, that familiar tension already coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach, but she’s not letting you get away with it. not yet. not until you beg her.

“i wanna cum, abs—” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, and she doesn’t let up.

she presses deeper inside you, fingers moving relentlessly, her grip on your throat firm and steady as she watches your reactions closely. “open your eyes,” she orders softly.

you do, and she’s there—right above you, eyes dark with adoration. “wanna cum, please, please, please—”

“you’re gonna come for me, right?” she asks, voice a low rasp that makes your heart race even faster. “gonna be a good little baby and let me make you come?”

“yes,” you whisper, voice shaky, utterly helpless under her touch. “please, abby.”

“good girl,” she praises, and the words hit you like a shockwave. “such a sweet little thing for me.”

her fingers start moving faster, her palm pressing harder against your clit, and this time, she doesn’t give you the chance to breathe. the overstimulation crashes over you in waves, but it’s all too much in the best way. you cum—shaking, crying out, your back arching, your whole body trembling under the force of it. your hands fly to her wrist, clutching her desperately as your hips try to escape the intensity of it all, but she holds you down—right where she wants you.

“that’s it,” she murmurs, kissing your cheek gently while you writhe underneath her. “so fucking beautiful. so good for me.”

your mind is fuzzy, your body still tingling from the orgasm. you try to catch your breath, but she’s not done. not yet.

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hell0-ki55y · 5 months ago

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THIS AMAZING HOLY SHITTTTT!!!!!!!🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Visceral Need • Sevika

Warnings: 18+ characters, mutual pining, flirting, cunnilingus, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, dom! Sevika, sub! Fem! Reader, Sevika w a big dick, creampie, doggy style, vaginal sex, blowjobs, rough sex, ass slapping, mentions of Sevika having a happy trail

Pairings: Sevika x You

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Sevika had been plotting to get to you from a distance. Watching you, waiting for you to make the first move.

The dim, smoky air of the Last Drop hums with tension, the kind you can almost feel crawling across your skin. You’re perched at the bar, fingers curled loosely around a glass of amber liquor, your sharp profile illuminated by the flickering neon signs. You know how to command a room without even trying, and Sevika is no exception to your quiet magnetism. She watches from her usual corner, where shadows bend to her will, trying not to make it obvious—though she doubts you’ve missed her lingering gaze.

It’s not the first time she’s seen you, but something about you tonight feels different. Maybe it’s the way you toss your hair over your shoulder, the faint smirk tugging at your lips when the bartender flirts just a little too boldly. Or maybe it’s how you lean back in your chair, self-assured and untouchable, like nothing and no one could ever rattle you.

Sevika’s jaw tightens as she takes another drag from her cigar, the taste bitter on her tongue. She knows how to take what she wants—except, apparently, when it comes to you. You’re too much, too radiant, too far out of reach for someone like her. But damn if that doesn’t make her want you more. She exhales slowly, watching the thin wisp of smoke curl toward the ceiling, hoping it might carry away her frustration.

When you glance her way—just a flick of your eyes, barely there—her heart jolts, a muscle-memory reflex she thought she’d buried long ago. Does she hold your gaze too long? Maybe. She’s not sure she cares, even though her pulse betrays her. She looks away after a moment, feigning disinterest, but her metal fingers drum restlessly against the table.

It’s pathetic, she thinks bitterly, this infatuation she can’t seem to shake. Sevika doesn’t pine. She’s not the kind of woman who waits in the wings, hoping for a glance or a smile. But here she is, doing exactly that, watching you from the shadows like a lovesick fool. She hates how vulnerable it makes her feel, how you’ve become a crack in the armor she’s spent years perfecting.

Her drink is almost gone, but she doesn’t order another. She’s too focused on you, on the way your laughter cuts through the dull roar of the bar like a blade. Someone’s talking to you now—some nobody who doesn’t know when to quit—and Sevika feels the sharp sting of jealousy twist in her gut. She shouldn’t care, but she does. She always does.

She wants to make a move, to cross the space between you and say something, anything, that might catch your attention. But every time she imagines it, her throat tightens, and her words die before they even form. What if she screws it up? What if you laugh her off, or worse—dismiss her entirely? She couldn’t stomach the humiliation.

Instead, she watches, silently yearning for something she’s too scared to reach for. Her metal arm creaks faintly as she flexes it, a nervous habit she’s never managed to break. She tells herself she’ll talk to you next time, but deep down, she knows it’s a lie. For now, she’ll settle for the stolen glances and fleeting moments that keep her tethered to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll notice her too.

The sound of shuffling cards and low laughter fills the back corner of the Last Drop, where Sevika sits hunched over a rickety table, a cigarette smoldering between her lips. Her prosthetic hand clicks faintly as she taps her cards against the wood, but her eyes aren’t on the hand she’s been dealt.

They’re on you.

Across the room, you’re leaned against the bar, your smile sharp and wicked as you chat with someone Sevika’s never seen before. Some tall, well-dressed stranger with too much confidence and not nearly enough sense to keep their hands to themselves. The sight of them leaning in, their shoulder brushing yours, makes Sevika’s jaw tighten, and she nearly cracks the card in her hand.

“Yo, Sev, you good?”

The voice jolts her back to the table. One of the guys playing spades with her—an older Zaunite named Corbin—grins lazily, tipping his chin toward her. “You’ve been staring off like you’re tryin’ to set something on fire with your eyes.”

A low chuckle ripples from the others at the table. Sevika doesn’t dignify him with a response, but she shifts in her seat, flipping a card onto the table with more force than necessary.

“Focus on the game, not whatever’s got you so distracted,” Corbin teases, leaning back in his chair. “Unless, of course…” His grin widens as his gaze darts toward you. “You’re busy keeping tabs on that.”

The others at the table exchange knowing glances, and Sevika scowls, smoke curling from her lips as she glares at Corbin. “Play your damn cards.”

Corbin whistles low. “Alright, alright, my bad.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, but his grin lingers. “Didn’t know you had a thing for the untouchable type. Can’t blame you, though.”

The table erupts into muffled laughter, and Sevika’s glare sharpens. She’s tempted to throw her cigarette at Corbin’s smug face, but that’d only prove him right. Instead, she leans forward, her voice low and steady.

“Worry about your hand, not mine. Or don’t—you’ll lose either way.”

The warning in her tone silences the laughter, and Corbin holds up his hands again, this time in genuine retreat. Sevika returns her attention to the game, but only barely.

Her gaze keeps drifting back to you. The stranger says something, and you laugh, your head tilting back slightly, exposing the curve of your throat. It’s a casual gesture, unintentional, but it hits Sevika like a sucker punch. She hates the way it makes her feel—jealous, possessive, like she has any right to be upset when she hasn’t even made her move.

She tears her eyes away again, focusing on her cards with a muttered curse. The game goes on, but her plays are sloppy, her attention split. It’s obvious enough that Corbin catches on again.

“You gonna stay in this game, or you wanna go shoot your shot?” he quips, shuffling the deck for the next hand.

Sevika glares at him, but before she can retort, you turn your head—and your eyes meet hers.

Her heart stutters. It’s only for a moment, but the intensity of your gaze is enough to leave her breathless. The corners of your lips twitch, and then you’re looking away, back to the stranger at your side.

Sevika exhales slowly, feeling the weight of Corbin’s amused stare. She can’t decide what burns more—your fleeting attention or the realization that she’s not the only one vying for it.

The bar’s hum is low and constant, voices blending into the clinking of glasses and the distant rumble of music. Sevika moves toward the bar, her empty glass in hand, but she’s not really paying attention to the drink she’s after. She’s already noticed you again, sitting at the edge of the counter, the soft neon glow catching the curve of your jaw.

You’re impossible to ignore. It’s not just your beauty—it’s the effortless way you carry yourself, like you know the world watches and you couldn’t care less. Sevika can’t help but stare, her steps slowing as her sharp gaze drinks you in.

She catches herself before she stops completely, shaking her head slightly. Get a grip, Sev, she thinks, but her feet still carry her closer.

Just as she reaches the bar, a man slides into your space. She notices him before you do—a wiry, slick-haired guy with a crooked grin that instantly sets her teeth on edge. He leans too close, trying to catch your attention with some line she doesn’t bother straining to hear.

You barely look at him, your expression unreadable, your attention flicking away almost immediately. But he doesn’t take the hint. He leans in closer, trying again, his voice louder now, a little sharper.

Sevika’s grip tightens on her empty glass.

The man doesn’t stop, his persistence crossing into territory that makes Sevika’s blood boil. Your body language stiffens, your disinterest now blatant, but he’s either too dense or too arrogant to notice. That’s when she decides she’s had enough.

With a measured stride, she closes the distance, her broad frame casting a shadow over both of you. She stops just behind the man, her voice low and dangerous as she speaks.

“She said no.”

The man startles, spinning around to face her. His mouth opens, probably to throw some defensive line, but the moment his eyes land on Sevika, the words die in his throat. His gaze flickers to her metal arm, then to her face, and recognition washes over him.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, holding his hands up as if to ward off a blow. “I didn’t—uh, I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize she wasn’t interested?” she cuts him off, her tone calm but icy. She steps closer, looming over him, her prosthetic arm flexing just enough to make her point. “Or you didn’t realize who you were pissing off?”

The man’s face pales, and he stammers out a hasty apology, first to her, then to you. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any trouble.”

“Then leave,” Sevika says, her voice like steel.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He retreats quickly, his shoulders hunched, disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.

Sevika watches him go, her jaw tight before she exhales and turns back to you. For a moment, she hesitates, unsure of how you’ll react. But then you glance at her, and your lips curve into a small, amused smile.

“Subtle,” you say, your tone light but edged with warmth.

“Wasn’t trying to be,” she replies, her voice quieter now.

Your gaze lingers on her, a spark of curiosity flickering behind your eyes. “Thanks. I could’ve handled it, but… I didn’t mind the assist.”

Sevika nods, the corners of her mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Anytime.”

She starts to turn away, intending to head back to her usual spot, but your voice stops her.

“Leaving already? Thought you came here for a drink.”

She glances back, her brow quirking slightly. You gesture to the empty seat beside you, a playful challenge in your expression.

“Well?” you ask, leaning back against the bar. “You gonna join me, or are you just here to scare off creeps?”

For the first time all night, Sevika’s grin fully forms, small but genuine. She sets her empty glass on the counter and takes the seat next to you.

“Guess I’ve got time for one more,” she says, her voice low and steady.

It’s the beginning of something, she thinks. And for once, she’s not afraid to take the chance.

The smoky air of the Last Drop feels heavier tonight, buzzing with energy as Sevika sits at her usual corner table, deep into a high-stakes game of cards. The laughter and jeers from the surrounding players don’t faze her; her focus is razor-sharp, every move calculated, every tell read like a book.

You sit at her side, draped in casual elegance, your presence drawing more attention than Sevika’s winning streak. Over the past weeks, you’ve become a constant in her orbit, turning heads wherever you go together. You’ve yet to cross that line into something more, but the tension crackles like a live wire, impossible to ignore.

Sevika is used to being stared at, but with you, it’s different. You’re not just an accessory to her; you’re a distraction—the kind she can’t afford but doesn’t want to resist. Even now, with her attention locked on the game, she’s acutely aware of you beside her, your perfume, your presence, the subtle way your knee brushes against hers.

And you? You’re bored.

Sevika’s been winning all night, and while the crowd around the table watches the game with rapt attention, your interest wanes. You lean back in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, your gaze lazily sweeping the room. But then, your eyes land on Sevika, her sharp profile illuminated by the flickering light above.

A sly grin curls your lips. You know her focus is ironclad, but you can’t help yourself. You want to see if you can shake her.

Leaning in, you bring your lips close to her ear, your voice soft and teasing. “You gonna win this one too, or are you just stringing them along for the fun of it?”

Sevika’s brow furrows slightly, but she doesn’t take her eyes off her cards. “Trying to distract me?” she mutters, her tone even.

“Is it working?” you purr, letting your breath brush against her skin.

She doesn’t answer, but you catch the slight clench of her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her cards. A thrill sparks in your chest.

You take it further, your hand drifting to rest on her thigh, your fingers light against the fabric of her pants. “You know,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry, “I was starting to think you were more interested in this game than me.”

Sevika freezes for half a second, just long enough for one of her opponents to notice.

“You good there, Sev?” the guy across from her asks, smirking.

“Fine,” she grunts, her voice rougher than usual. She glares at her cards, trying to refocus, but you don’t let up.

Your fingers trace small circles on her thigh, your touch maddeningly light. “You look tense,” you say, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “Should I stop?”

Her eyes flick to you, dark and smoldering, a warning in her gaze. “Keep it up,” she says lowly, “and I’ll make you regret it.”

Your grin widens, entirely unbothered by the threat. If anything, it eggs you on. You lean in even closer, your lips almost brushing her ear. “Big talk for someone who’s struggling to focus right now.”

That does it. Sevika slaps her cards down, the force rattling the table, and pushes her chair back slightly. The players around her start to laugh, sensing her irritation, but it’s not them she’s focused on—it’s you.

She leans toward you, her voice a low growl. “You really wanna test me?”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence, but the heat in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine. “Maybe,” you say softly, your smile teasing.

Sevika’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, it feels like the air between you is about to ignite. Then, with a sharp exhale, she stands, tossing a few bills onto the table.

“Game’s over,” she says curtly, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

“Where are we going?” you ask, laughing as she leads you away from the table.

Her grip on your hand is firm, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Somewhere I can deal with you properly.”

The spark in her eyes promises trouble, and you can’t help but follow, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Sevika's mouth is hot and hungry on yours, her tongue delving deep as she backs you up against the wall. The smooth plaster is cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of her body pressed against you. She breaks the kiss, leaving you both panting for breath.

"God, I've wanted to do that for so long," she pants, nipping at your jaw. "Wanted to taste you. Feel you." She rolls her hips into yours, grinding her thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, the pressure exactly what you need to chase the edge. You whimper, your head falling back against the wall as she licks a hot stripe up your neck. Your hands find her shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck Sev," you groan, your hips rocking against her in desperate search of more. "Need you. Fucking need you so bad. Please."

Sevika stops you with a firm hand on your hip, her fingers digging in until you're sure you'll bruise. "Ah, ah," she tuts, shaking her head. "Not so fast, baby." She cocks her head to the side, a wicked gleam in her eye as she looks down at you.

"First, you're gonna apologize for interrupting my game." She punctuates the demand with a sharp thrust of her hips, her hard cock grinding against your aching clit. Your jaw drops, a gasp tearing from your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure. But even as your body sings, your mind reels at her words.

"What?" you sputter, your brain struggling to process the shift in power dynamics. "But Sev, I..." She silences you with a finger pressed against your lips, her eyes hard and unwavering.

Sevika chuckles, the sound low and dark and dripping with all sorts of filthy promises. "You heard me," she purrs, her hand sliding down your body to palm your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. Your nipple pebbles beneath her touch, the rough pads of her fingers sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core. You whine, arching into her hand like a cat in heat.

God, you need this.

Need her.

Your whole body is crying out for her touch. But you know she's right.

Now you owe her an apology.

That’s how you got under her skin, how you made her so crazy for you that she left a table full of high rollers to chase after you. "Fuck," you curse, dropping to your knees with a thud. The carpet abrades your skin through the thin material of your pants, but the pain is nothing compared to the pleasure you’re about to indulge in.

Sevika is one of those lucky bitches who was born with everything hanging down to her knees. But it's not just the size that sets her apart. No, the crowning glory is the curl - a delicious, meaty curve that was made to hit all the right spots like it was made for your cunt. It looks like it’s almost too big for you, having the capability of stretching you out in ways that would burn so good it was almost painful. But oh, the pain would be worth it. So worth it to feel so full, so utterly and completely stuffed full of her.

You lean forward, tracing the happy trail that starts just below her navel, the coarse hairs tickling your fingertips. The scent of her fills your nostrils, musky and dark and so distinctly her. She's an intoxicating cocktail, all brute strength and raw power and that sharp, sinful mind. You're addicted, thoroughly and completely.

Sevika's cock is too big for your hand, stretching your fingers obscenely as you wrap them around her dick. She's hot and heavy in your palm, the veins ridging her length pulsing against your skin with every beat of her heart. The sight of her, all big and hard and ready, sends a fresh gush of arousal flooding your cunt. You whimper, your hips rolling involuntarily as you stroke her from root to tip.

Your thumb catches on the weeping tip, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum that's gathered there. You're overwhelmed, completely bowled over by her. By this. By the sheer, breathtaking perfection of her cock. A cock that's all for you.

Sevika moans, a low sound that makes your clit throb. "That's it, baby," she praises, her voice rough with desire. "Just like that." She thrusts into your hand, her hips rolling in shallow little circles that send pleasure shooting up your spine. You can’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the feeling of her, hot and hard and so fucking perfect in your grip.

"God, your hand feels so good," she pants, her grip on your hair tightening until it's just shy of painful. "But I bet your mouth would feel even better." The words are a challenge, daring you to prove her right. To take her down to the base and show her just how good you are with your tongue. You open your eyes, meeting her gaze head on.

You look up at her through your lashes, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. The simple act, so quick and innocent on its own, is dripping with intent in the charged air between you. Your message is clear: you're going to devour her. Swallow her whole until she's begging for mercy. She inhales sharply, her eyes darkening with lust at the blatant promise. "Fucking hell," she breathes, the curse little more than a whisper." You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

You just smile, slow and filthy, before diving forward and swallowing her down. The surprise and pleasure mingling on her face at the first touch of your tongue is almost as satisfying as the taste of her, salty and bitter and so delicious.

Yourmouth is hot and wet and eager around her, your tongue working feverishly to coax more of those heady drops from the tip. Sevika shudders, her grip on your hair tightening until you're sure you'll feel it for days. The sensation sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, your clit pulsing with the need for attention. You whimper around her, the vibrations of the sound traveling down her length until she's keening, her hips rocking into the blessed heat of your mouth.

You let her fuck your face, taking her down to the root with every pass until your eyes are watering and you're lightheaded from lack of oxygen. The discomfort is a small price to pay for the sheer depravity of it all, for the knowledge that you're the one driving her to this, making her fall apart with just your mouth and hands. You're insatiable, gluttonous in your desire.

Sevika is lost in the bliss of your mouth, her head thrown back and her eyes screwed shut as she chases her high. She fucks your face like it's her sole purpose in life, every thrust designed to push her closer and closer to the edge. You're along for the ride, letting her use you for her own pleasure. Because fuck, it's hot. Watching her like this, all wild and undone and so beautifully debauched. The noises she makes are obscene, low and filthy grunts and groans that make your cunt clench with want.

Her words are even filthier, praise and profanity tumbling from her lips in a steady stream. "God, your mouth," she pants, her grip on your hair bordering on painful. "So fucking good. Love watching it stretched around my cock." Her thrusts speed up, growing erratic as her climax nears.

Yournose presses against the neat thatch of curls at the base of her shaft, the musky scent of her arousal flooding your nostrils. Her hands are fists in your hair, holding you in place as she grinds against your face.

Your jaw aches, your lungs burn, but you don't stop.

You can’t stop.

Not when she's so close, not when you can feel her pulsing against your tongue as she fights not to come.

The need to make her fall apart is a living thing inside you, driving you forward until she's writhing, her legs trembling with the force of her impending release. And then she's coming, your name a ragged groan on her lips as her cock jerks and twitches and spills down your throat.

The sound of your name on her lips is sweeter than any praise, more potent than any aphrodisiac.It sends a fresh gush of arousal flooding your cunt, your clit throbbing with the need for some much needed friction. You work her through her release, milking every last drop from her as you greedily swallow it down.

The saltiness coats your tongue, slides down your throat in hot spurts. And god, it's delicious. A perfect complement to the musky taste of her skin, the spicy scent of her cologne that clings to your hair and skin. You're drunk on her, high on Sevika.

In this moment, you'd do anything for her, be anything she wants you to be. Even if it means falling on your knees like some cheap whore and choking on her cock like your life depends on it. Which, right now, it feels like it does.

Sevika tugs you to your feet, your legs shaky and unsteady as she pulls you into her arms. She doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before she's kissing you, her tongue delving deep to taste herself on your lips. You open for her, letting her invade your mouth just like she's going to invade your body. Her hands are everywhere, roaming over your curves like a woman starved.

She squeezes and kneads and leaves bruises in her wake. Marking you, claiming you for her own. And fuck, if it doesn't turn you on. You've never been so aroused in your life. Your pussy is dripping, your panties soaked through with the evidence of your desire. She breaks the kiss, only to trail her lips down your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your pulse point. You moan, your head falling back to grant her better access.

Your head hits the pillow a split second before Sevika is on you, her body a warm, solid weight pressing you into the mattress. She kisses you again, her mouth slanting over yours in a filthy embrace that steals the air from your lungs and the sense from your head. The scent of her is dizzying, the taste of her a heady ambrosia on your tongue. You're drowning in her, lost in the drugging pull of her lips and the hot slide of her skin against yours. Your hands roam, mapping the dips and curves of her body like you're trying to commit them to memory.

You'd happily spend the rest of your life exploring every inch of her, tracing each freckle, licking each scar. But right now, there's only one thing on your mind. One thing your body is screaming for with every frantic beat of your heart and every ragged breath in your lungs. You need her.

Sevika is a woman of contrasts, every inch of her hard planes and sharp edges. The smoothness of her skin is a shock against the roughness of her hands, the gentleness of her touch at odds with the desperate need in her eyes. She worships your body like it's a religious experience, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your sternum until she reaches the valley of your breasts. There, she pauses, her hot breath ghosting over the peaked nipples. Your back arches, seeking friction, but she just chuckles, the sound rumbling through you like a shockwave.

"So pretty," she murmurs, her fingers ghosting over the straining peaks. The skimmed touch is torture, leaving you aching and wanting and ready to beg for more. But then she's taking you in her mouth, sucking you deep like she's trying to pull your soul straight from your body.

Sevika sucks harder, her teeth grazing the sensitive nubs and sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging straight to your clit. You're keening, your hands fisting in the sheets as she works you over with lips and tongue and teeth. She's relentless, determined to push you to the brink until you're a mewling, writhing mess beneath her. And fuck, if it doesn't work. Your cunt is clenching, juices trickling down your thighs as she drives you insane.

Just when you think you can't take anymore, she's pulling away, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach as she makes her way down your body. Her tongue dips into your navel, teasing the hollow there before she's moving on, nipping at the jut of your hipbone. You gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as she settles between your thighs.

She inhales deeply, her nose brushing against your clothed mound. The scent of your arousal fills her nostrils, and it’s so fucking perfect. She can't wait any longer.

Can't deny herself the taste of you.

Then she’s tearing at your panties, her fingers ripping the delicate fabric like it's tissue paper. The cool air hits your overheated flesh, making you shiver, making your cunt clench with want. But it's nothing compared to the heat of her breath, the first lap of her tongue against your dripping slit.

You moan out, your hips bucking up to meet her, to grind your cunt against her greedy mouth. She moans, the sound vibrating through you, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. She's everywhere, her tongue delving deep, her nose grinding against your clit as she eats you out.

Sevika throws a thigh over her shoulder, opening you up to her in ways that are almost obscene. And then she's diving in, her tongue delving deep to taste you as her lips and chin get slick with your juices. You're incoherent, babbling a stream of curses and praises as she works you over like a woman possessed. She doesn't let up, fucking you with her tongue like she's trying to lick you inside out.

Your clit is throbbing, aching for attention, and she gives it to you without hesitation. Then she’s there, laving the sensitive bundle of nerves with long, slow strokes that make your vision white out. You're so close, teetering on the knife's edge of release, your cunt clenching around nothing. But you need something more, need to be filled up, stretched out until you're a quivering mess.

“Feel good, baby?”

You say yes, a wordless cry that's swallowed up by a moan as she doubles her efforts. Her tongue is everywhere, in your cunt, on your clit, over every inch of skin she can reach.

And she reaches a lot, her long arms spanning your body as she holds you open for her assault. You're lost in it, drowning in the pleasure, in the knowledge that she's the one giving it to you, driving you wild with nothing but her mouth.

Then need for more is a living thing inside you, a clawing desperation to be filled up in a way only she can provide. But she's too good at this, too skilled at drawing out your pleasure. Each touch of her tongue brings you closer to the edge, closer to that blissful precipice where you'll shatter into a million pieces. And you want it. Want to come on her face until you're shaking and boneless and spent.

She doesn't let up, fucking you with her tongue as she's trying to taste your very soul. Your cries are getting louder, higher in pitch, until you're sobbing out your pleasure, your voice breaking on each desperate moan. She's relentless, her lips and tongue working in tandem to push you over the edge.

And then, finally, she's hitting that spot deep inside, the one that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You come with a shout, your cunt clamping down around her tongue like a vice as your orgasm crashes over you in waves of searing bliss.

You're thrashing, your legs shaking and your nails scoring the sheets as she wrings every last drop of pleasure from your body. It's too much and not enough, the sensation bordering on pain as it pushes you past the point of ecstasy and into something else entirely. Something primal and raw and so deeply, soul-shakingly intense.

Sevika comes up your body, her kisses reverent against your sweat-damp skin. The slow press of her lips to your thighs, your hips, your stomach, is a soothing balm against the aftershocks still coursing through you. She takes her time, mapping your body like she's trying to memorize every inch. Your fingertips tangle in her hair, keeping her close as you bask in the warm glow of your release.

"God, you're gorgeous when you come,"she murmurs against your skin, her words sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. She nuzzles into your neck, her breath hot against your ear. "Love watching you fall apart. Love knowing I'm the one who made you do it." Her cock is hard and hot against your thigh, a silent demand for its own release. But she doesn't rush her, doesn't try to mount you and fuck you into oblivion.

She rolls you onto your stomach, her hands skimming over the planes of your back, the dip of your waist. She takes a moment to admire the view, the curve of your ass, the long line of your legs. You're exquisite, all soft angles and warm, supple skin. And she can't wait to sink into you, to bury herself balls deep in your perfect cunt. But first, she's going to taste you again.

Her tongue traces the swell of your ass, dipping into the cleft between. She takes her time, kissing and nipping and laving at your flesh until you're squirming beneath her, desperate for more. Your legs fall open, a silent invitation that she's all too happy to accept.

Sevika dips her head, her tongue dragging over your dripping slit from clit to hole. Your taste explodes on her tongue, musky and sweet and so fucking perfect. She moans, the sound vibrating through you as she devours you like a woman starved.

Her hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as she feasts on your cunt. She eats you like she's trying to crawl inside you, like she wants to taste every inch of your body. And fuck, if it doesn't turn you on. The need to be filled by her, to have her stretch you wide and take you hard, is a clawing desperation inside you. You're panting, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets as you push back against her mouth. Your clit is throbbing, aching for attention, and she gives it to you in spades.

She spreads you open with her fingers, her tongue delving deep to lap at your dripping walls. You're keening now, begging her for more, for something, anything to fill the aching void inside you. "Please," you whimper, your voice hoarse and broken. "Please, Sev. I need you. Need your cock." She pulls back, her lips shiny with your juices as she looks up at you through lidded eyes.

"Need this, baby?" she purrs, fisting her dick and giving it a languid stroke. You can't tear your gaze away from the sight, mesmerized by the thick, veiny length, the bulbous head already weeping with precome.

You nod, too far gone to form the words.

But she knows.

Reads it in the desperation in your eyes, in the way your body arches up into her.

You nod, unable to form the words to beg. But it doesn't matter. Sevika reads it in the desperation in your eyes, in the way your body arches up into her. With a low, feral sound, she's on you, settling between your spread thighs. The head of her cock nudges against your pussy, smearing precome over your slick lips. You moan, your hips lifting to meet her, to urge her deeper.

She thrusts in slowly, torturously so, her thick length splitting you open inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, the bite of pain giving way to pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming. You clench around her, your inner walls fluttering as they try to adjust to her size. But she’s too big, too thick. Even as your body yields to her, you know it will never be enough.

Now she’s in balls-deep, her thick cock stretching you in ways you never thought possible. You shudder, your body convulsing around the sudden intrusion as you struggle to adjust. It's too much, too full, too fucking perfect. You can feel her in your throat, her cock nudging against your cervix like it's trying to burrow into your womb. Your clit throbs, pulsing in time with the frantic beat of your heart as your cunt clenches desperately around the thick length. The need to move, to fuck herself on Sevika in a desperate, mindless frenzy, is a living thing inside you.

But she doesn't let you. Her hands grip your hips, stilling you even as she pulls out until just the tip remains before slamming back in with a force that steals the air from your lungs.

You sob at the drag of her thick cock against your sensitive walls, your voice breaking on a guttural moan. "F-fuck," you stutter, your nails scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. "D-daddy, it's too big. S'stretching me out. Gonna break me."

Your voice is high, thin and reedy, like it doesn't belong to you. But the words do. Those filthy, desperate pleas for her to ruin you, to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Then she’s only too happy to oblige. She sets a brutal pace, her hips slamming against yours with every thrust. The headboard slaps against the wall, the obscene rhythm mixing with your cries and begging until it's a carnal symphony. She fucks you like she wants to split you open, like she wants to crawl inside you and never leave.

You can't catch your breath, can't do anything but take it as she fucks into you. Your legs come up to wrap around her waist, ankles locking at the small of her back as she pounds you into the mattress. The new angle lets her go even deeper, the head of her cock battering against your cervix with every thrust. The need for more is a living thing inside you, a clawing desperation that drives you to meet her, to push back against the relentless thrust of her hips. But she's too strong, too overwhelming.

She just holds you down, pins you in place with her weight as she takes what she wants. What you're begging her for with every wild thrash of your body. You're a moaning, writhing mess beneath her, lost in the pleasure and the pain until there's no distinction between the two. It's all Sevika, all this hot, hard, perfect cock splitting you open.

"Did you want this, baby?" Sevika grunts, punctuating the question with a sharp smack to your ass. You yelp, the pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure radiating from your core. The smack makes you clench, your cunt gripping her cock like a vise.

"You wanted this, yeah? Wanted me to fucking wreck this good pussy?" She yanks on your hair, forcing your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. She latches on, biting and sucking, intent on marking you as hers for all the world to see. Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers plunging between your lips to muffle the scream tearing from your lungs. Your hips buck, trying to meet her, to take her deeper, but she just pulls harder, holding you in place.

Sevika’s slaps your ass again, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pleasure racing through your veins.She doesn't let up, her hand coming down again and again until your skin is hot and aching. The need to beg for more, to plead with her to hurt you, is overwhelming. But she's already giving you what you need, what you crave. Her filthy words wash over you, praising your tight cunt, telling you how good you feel wrapped around her cock. You're sobbing, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as she pushes you higher, fucks you harder, takes you deeper. The need to cum is a physical ache, a desperate clawing at your insides.

But you can’t.

Not yet.

Not until she says so.

You cry out, your voice cracking on a sob as she sets a brutal pace. She fucks you like she's trying to imprint herself on your very soul, her cock driving into you with a ferocity that borders on violent. Your body is a puppet on her strings, jerking and twitching with every thrust. You're incoherent, babbling pleas and praises as she wrecks you. Your cunt is like a vice around her, fluttering and clutching like it's trying to keep her inside.

"That's it, baby," she pants, her grip on your hips tightening until you're sure you'll have bruises. "Take it. Take my big fucking cock." She's so deep, so fucking huge. You can feel her in your stomach, in your throat. It's overwhelming, more than you ever thought you could handle. And yet, you want more.

"Cum," Sevika demands, her voice rough with need. That single word is all it takes. You shatter, your release crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Your cunt clenches, spasming almost violently around her cock as you gush, squirting your release all over her thick dick. It's filthy, obscene, the evidence of your pleasure dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below. But Sevika doesn't care. She spurs her hips, fucks you through your climax until you're shaking, boneless, spent.

Your lips move in a wordless litany, begging her to stop, to ease up, to give you a moment to breathe. But she doesn't. If anything, she fucks you harder, her thrusts growing erratic as she chases her own release.

You're whimpering, keening cries that barely qualify as words. The sounds are lost in the harsh slap of flesh on flesh, in the creaking of the bed frame as it strains against Sev’s brutal pace. She's relentless, pistoning into you with a single-minded ferocity that steals the air from your lungs. The sweat drips down her brow, her muscles standing out in sharp relief as she holds herself up on shaking arms.

She's fucking you now, not into the bed, but into the fucking room itself. Her hips snap forward, the drag of her cock against your sensitive walls sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. You're whited out, lost in the sensation, the sheer overwhelming bliss of being fucked into oblivion by your own personal god.

"Fucking hell," Sevika breathes, her voice ragged with effort. Her hips are moving now, the pace growing erratic, stuttering as she nears her peak. Thenneed to feel her come is a desperation, a clawing hunger that makes your teeth ache. The need to be filled with her, marked by her, owned by her.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise. "I'm gonna fucking cum in this pussy and make you take it all. Gonna fucking fill you up until you're dripping with it. Until everyone knows who you belong to." Her words are punctuated by a final, brutal thrust, her cock spearing you deep as she erupts. Her cum floods your channel, hot and thick and endless.

You shudder, your cunt clenching and fluttering around her pulsing cock as your own release crashes over you. The need to be closer, to feel her all around you, is a visceral thing. You turn your head, your mouth seeking hers in a desperate, sloppy kiss. She meets you halfway, her lips crashing into yours like she can't get enough.

Can't taste you deep enough to satisfy.

Your moans are muffled, swallowed up by the kiss as you grind against her, fucking yourself on her softening length. She tastes of dark promise and forbidden pleasure, and you can't get enough. She kisses you through your orgasm, her words tumbling into your mouth in a filthy litany. Telling you how good you are, how perfect you are. You seek and find her praise, the need to hear it drowning out everything else.

Sevika pulls out with a wet sound, her softening cock slipping from your well-used cunt. Instantly, you feel empty, bereft. But it's only for a moment. Then the first gush of her cum dribbles from your hole, sliding down your inner thigh. A second later, her mouth is there, her tongue lapping at the pearly trail like you're her favorite treat. She cleans you thoroughly, her lips and tongue mapping every inch of your swollen flesh.

She doesn’t stop until you're spotless, until not a single drop of her release remains on your skin. Satisfied, she comes up to curl around your sweaty body, her arms wrapping you in a secure embrace. Then she calms you down, pressing soft kisses to your temple as she murmurs soothing nonsense. The need to be close, to be touched and held and cherished, is a visceral need.

Sevika gives you a chance to breathe, letting you bask in the afterglow for a second. Then she’s flipping you over, manhandling you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing at all. The sheets are cool against your heated skin as she settles over you, the hard planes of her chest a delicious contrast to the soft material.

She kisses your body, her lips trailing over each bump and hollow like you’re the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. "You did so good, baby," she murmurs, her voice low and rough and filled with a dark satisfaction. Then she's praising you like you're the finest prize, like conquering your body has been the ultimate accomplishment. And maybe it has. Because in this moment, with your legs spread and your cunt throbbing from her possession, you feel owned.

Consumed.

And utterly fucked out.

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