ilovejasmine22

[ilovejasmine22]

[ilovejasmine22]

Sevika giving reader the best hexstrap of her life on some sweaty car sex🤭

M- mwehehehehe >:>

Z: mweheheheheheheehee— breed me.

M- well since you’re so persistent about it..

BESTS OF SEVIKA'S HEXSTRAP ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

Condescending!Sevika, messy sweaty car sex, hexstrap use, degradation, slight choking, dumbification, plugging !

“Where are you trying to go, huh?” Sevika growled into your ear, car filled with skin slapping and the musky scent of sex.

Her hips slapping onto the bottom of your thighs, filling you up with the purple strap attached to her hips, your face red and breath coming in pants, you were a goner the moment you saw the bulge of her strap on her pants.

You let out a choked up cry, you tried riding up the seats but she held you down and slammed into your aching hole harder.

Maybe it wasn't the wisest decision teasing her when you both were stuck in traffic— making fun of her not being able to tame you right then and there. Oh well, you've made your bed. Now you have to sleep in it.

“Say what you said again,” Sevika gave you a triumphant smirk, slamming the herself deeper making your thighs tremble. “You can't fuck me in the car, you wouldn't ever dare to have your perfect reputation to get tainted by your libido.” she mocked your tone from earlier. “I'll fuck you, wherever i want to fuck you. Whenever I want to fuck you.”

You cried out, “I'm sorry! I was joking around!” your pussy tightened around her thick shaft, your fingers digging into the seats.

Your hand grabbed onto the leather of the seat, clawing at it as you cried, your cunt getting destroyed by her strap.

But she didn’t relent, she never would unless your safe word slipped passed your lips.

She went harder, pulling her hips back before letting them slam down, hitting the spot that made you see stars and turned your brain to mush.

“Wanna doubt me again? Hmm?” She groaned, her hand now wrapped around your neck as the other held you down.

"N-no, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The tip of her strap grazed against your cervix, that's when you remembered. This wasn't her go-to silicone strap. This was the hexstrap.

Your eyes widened. “Sev,” you sobbed. You felt the strap twitch inside, she was close. You wanted to be bred. You needed to bred. Your mouth opened, small gasps of air coming out as your eyebrows furrowed together tightly. “Inside, inside! Please cum inside!”

“Yeah? You want me to fill your pussy up? Put a baby in you?” Sevika whispered, “Knock you up, you wanna be my baby mama that bad, huh?”

You clenched your teeth, legs shaking. “Want to bear your children, please,” your lips closed tightly, a small needy “mmm” leaving your throat.

Thats when you began pushing back against her in pure greedy need. A string of incoherent babbles leaving your mouth before Sevika let out a gruff groan and buried the strap into your cunt, the shaft pulsing in you as ropes of cum spilled into your womb.

It dumbed you down to nothing more but a cum dump. And you loved it, your face sweaty and red, eyes half-lidded, tongue lolled out. You were cock drunk.

Sevika let out a sated sigh, a small smile taking place on her features.

“Where's that plug of yours, hm?” She questioned before digging through the bag on the floor of the car, cock still buried to the hilt in your sore cunt.

“S-second.. zipper,” you managed to word out. She looked back at you and rubbed the small of your back soothingly with the hand that was once around your neck, unzipping the second zipper of the bag and pulling out the cute baby pink plug.

She covered the egg-shaped plug in your slick before smoothly switching out the strap with the plug, plugging you up, making sure none of her cum seeps out.

“There we go, all full, my girl was just craving a filling, ain’t that right?” She tugged on the plug slightly, making you jolt as your mushed brain tried to understand everything going on.

“That's it, stay dumb for me, doll.”

taglist: @ruelezz @furpantscollective @riveramorylunar

[ilovejasmine22]

req - sevika making her girl squirt for the first time?

hell yeahhh

it starts with you laid over her thigh.

not even fucked, not yet. you’re just in your underwear, hips draped over her lap, her left leg slotted up right between yours. her metal hand rests easy on your lower back. her real one?

it’s already busy between your thighs.

you’d made the mistake of being mouthy earlier. gave her attitude in the hallway, playful at first. but sevika was already buzzed, already lazy from a half-burned blunt. you nudged the hornet’s nest and now you’re here. riding the heavy flex of her thigh, panting into her shoulder while her fingers rub slow, lazy circles over the soaked cotton between your legs.

“mmnh—sev—”

“shh,” she mutters, not even looking at you. her eyes are half-lidded, blunt smoldering in the corner of her mouth. “you talk too much.”

your hips twitch, grinding down instinctively as her thumb presses just right. she doesn’t move fast. doesn’t even press hard. just slow, cruel little strokes while you try to keep from begging.

“c’monnn” you whimper. “please—”

her fingers trail down the front of your panties, tugging them aside with a practiced flick.

wet. soaked. swollen and slick and needy.

her thumb slips between your folds, dragging through the mess.

“you’re drippin’,” she says, voice like smoke. “and i haven’t even started.”

and she hasn’t. not really.

—

you’ve been on her lap for nearly twenty minutes now, hips grinding, legs shaking, mouth open and moaning every few seconds—but she keeps pulling you back. stopping when you get close. slapping your ass or dragging her thumb away right when your thighs clench up.

“sev—sev—i’m close, i’m—!”

“no you’re not.”

a firm grip on your hip. her voice lower now. teasing.

“not yet.”

you’ve come close so many times that your body feels like it’s buzzing, every nerve ending vibrating. your clit’s aching. your cunt’s clenching around nothing, so swollen it’s throbbing. her calloused fingers slide down and toy at your entrance. two thick digits sinking in slowly, lazily, not even curling yet.

“you’re gonna come from just my fingers?” she asks.

you nod, face buried in her neck. “y-yeah—fuck, yes—”

but she doesn’t speed up.

just keeps the pressure slow, cruel, constant. two fingers sliding in and out, dragging against your walls, thumb grazing your clit, but never fast enough to push you over.

and god, you feel it. that sharp build. tight in your gut, curling hard…until it starts to crest—

then she pulls her hand away.

your hips buck, a sob catching in your throat. you’re soaked. you know you’re making a mess on her jeans. your pussy’s twitching, fluttering, practically leaking down her thigh.

“fuck, you’re sensitive today,” she mutters, watching her fingers glisten as she licks them clean. “cute.”

“s-stop—s-stop teasing, please,” you whimper, legs trembling.

“why?” her voice drops, smug and lazy. “you’re fuckin’ squirming, baby. whining like you want me to ruin it.”

her fingers dip again.

two inside, this time curling just right.

your entire body jerks, and she stills, slow grin crawling across her face as your thighs spasm.

“…huh,” she mutters, eyes fixed between your legs. “what was that?”

you can’t even speak. you’re too close. twitching, moaning, your slick leaking down her hand, your cunt clenching so hard her fingers drag deeper on their own.

her thumb brushes just a bit higher,

and something breaks.

you choke on a sound. high, sudden, feral as your whole body jerks. a splash hits her thighs.

sevika freezes.

“…no fuckin’ way.”

her hand stays inside you as your body convulses. hips stuttering, cunt gushing around her fingers, wetness hitting the floor in little droplets.

she watches it all with eyes gone wild.

“holy shit, doll,” she laughs. stunned, low, hungry. “you just fucking—fuck—”

“didn’t know this little cunt could do all that,” she growls, dragging her palm over the mess, coating herself in it. “fucking filthy. look at this”

you try to lift your head, dizzy, drenched, soaked clear through your thighs and hers. and she’s just watching it, mesmerized.

“you ever do that before?” she asks, tilting her head.

you shake yours, weakly. still trembling. “n-no—never—”

her eyebrows rise, and that grin deepens.

“no shit?”

she repositions you so you’re lying on the couch on your back now, legs spread wide on either side of her broad shoulders. she reaches down, runs her fingers through the mess between your legs, slick and wet and dripping off her knuckles.

then she smacks it.

a wet slap right over your swollen, overstimmed pussy, just enough to make your back arch off the bed with a choked cry.

“fuck, that’s hot.”

you gasp, a mix between a sob and a moan, thighs trying to close. she stops them. presses her forearm down against one thigh, spreads you back open, forces you to stay exposed in the wet, sticky aftermath.

“don’t hide,” she murmurs, watching your cunt twitch like it’s hypnotizing. “don’t ever fuckin’ hide from me.”

her hand cups your mound, palm pressing flat, just enough pressure to make you jerk again. she feels the heat, the pulse, the way you clench like your body’s still trying to keep up.

“you squirtin’ for me now, huh?”

another smack—slap!

you cry out. twitch. the mess between your legs grows, warm and slick and leaking.

“look at this pussy, holy shit,” she groans, dragging her fingers over your folds. “gushin’ like a fountain and she don’t even know what hit her.”

“s-sev—i can’t—m’too sensitive—”

“no, you’re not,” she growls, gripping your thigh tight. “you just never had someone make you. but guess what?”

her mouth dips close—hot breath over your cunt.

“you’re gonna do that again,” she says, almost to herself. “fuck the plan. i want that again.”

a lick—slow, filthy, right over the mess.

you shudder. cry out. beg again.

she doesn’t care.

“i’m not stoppin’,” she mutters, tongue dragging back through your folds. “not ‘til you do it again.”

“w-wait—sev—!”

her lips wrap around your clit. she sucks, fingers working lower, two curling deep inside, right at that aching, perfect spot she found the first time.

you jolt, hips snapping, hands scrambling against the sheets. it’s too much, too fast, too—

“ngh—f-fuck—i’m gonna—!”

she pulls back for just a second, eyes glinting, mouth soaked.

“yeah, you are,” she purrs. “you’re gonna soak this whole fuckin’ bed for me.”

and then she dives back in.

sucks your clit, tongue relentless, fingers slamming that spot over and over until your legs start shaking, until your head throws back, until your throat opens and all you can do is scream.

your body snaps. hips kick. thighs spasm.

and then it happens.

warm, sudden, uncontrollable. you gush, pleasure crashing over you like a flood, slick spraying across her hand, her chest, the sheets, your own thighs.

and sevika moans like she’s the one cumming.

like it’s her favorite goddamn sight in the world.

“fuck yeah, baby—just like that. squirt all over me, let it out—good fucking girl—”

you collapse.

limp. shaking. twitching through the aftershocks.

and she’s laughing. low and breathless. hungry.

“told you i’d make it happen again.”

her hand’s still between your legs, rubbing circles, fingers lazy but firm, keeping you on the edge even as you try to escape.

“what?” she smirks. “you thought we were done?”

she leans down, tongue dragging a line from your soaked slit to your navel.

“nah, doll,” she growls. “i want one more.”

a kiss to your inner thigh.

“i wanna see how many times this sweet little cunt can squirt before you pass the fuck out.”

[ilovejasmine22]

sevika inspects your pussy

"no one’s ever just… looked at me like that before."

"mm." sevika exhales smoke through her nose. doesn’t respond. doesn’t need to.

her thumb just presses, low and slow. right above your pubic bone, the thick callus dragging a lazy circle against your skin.

you're already bare. already trembling. your legs open, knees pulled up, thighs twitching with every second of silence.

she hasn't even done anything yet. just has you lying back on her bed, naked, soft under her hands, and watching you like you're a fucking science project she wants to dissect.

or a dessert she plans to take her time with.

“don’t squirm,” she murmurs, without looking up. you freeze. your breath catches.

her gaze is on your pussy now, half-lidded with interest, like she’s inspecting damage. or deciding how to ruin it.

“already wet,” she hums.

your cheeks burn. your thighs instinctively twitch together, but her metal hand is already there, firm and unmoving, keeping you spread with an ease that reminds you just how strong she is.

“mmn—sevika—”

“shhh,” she says, finally glancing up. that crooked smirk tugs at her mouth. “this part ain’t about you talkin’, doll.”

your breath stutters.

and then her fingers are back, so slow. just parting your folds with practiced ease. not even touching your clit. not even trying to get you off. just… looking.

examining.

“pretty,” she mutters under her breath, like she’s talking to herself. “tight little thing, too. fuck. look at her.”

you let out a shaky whine. your body’s hot all over. she's not even fingering you. not licking. not kissing. just spreading you open with her fingers and staring like she's memorizing it.

you feel like a specimen. a painting. a toy.

“she’s twitchin’,” sevika says, almost amused. “needy already?”

your face burns hotter. her fingers move slightly, just enough for her thumb to brush lightly over your entrance, like she’s testing the stretch, feeling how soft it is.

“bet you’d clench so tight around me.”

you gasp.

her eyes flick up, catching the way your stomach jumps, your nipples perk, your breath hitches.

“...that do something to you?” she leans closer. breath fans over your cunt. you shiver.

“me talkin’ about your pussy like i own it?”

your mouth opens. no words. just a sound.

"you like being inspected, huh?" she murmurs, voice lower now. darker. "like bein' spread open and praised for doin' nothin' but lay there and look fuckin’ perfect."

her nose brushes just barely over your inner thigh. you feel it. warm. intimate. almost gentle.

"don’t even need to touch you yet," she adds, voice rough with want. "just wanna learn how you react."

and then, one slow swipe of her tongue, not even your clit, just the underside of your folds. your back arches.

her smirk deepens.

"there she is."

you’re dripping.

she still doesn’t go in. still doesn’t finger you. just rubs two wet fingers together like she’s testing the texture, eyes locked between your legs.

“fuckin’ mess, already,” she mutters, almost proud. “and i haven’t even started.”

you make a sound that’s more plea than moan.

and she just laughs. throaty and dangerous.

“yeah, baby," she says, licking your slick off her fingers. “you’re so fucked.”

part 2

i cantttt shes so hot.

tt: sevikastr4p

[ilovejasmine22]

oooooo…………… sev mocking readers moans….

❀ sevika who grins the second you whimper through your teeth, all choked up and trying to stay quiet. like it’s a game to her. like your mouth twitching is the most entertaining thing she’s seen all week. she tilts her head and leans in, murmuring right against your ear: “that the sound you make when you’re about to cum, doll? that pathetic little squeak?”

❀ sevika who imitates your moans in that low, taunting drawl: rough voice dragging every cracked syllable out, teasing you mid-thrust or mid-tongue like she’s bored, just to humiliate you. “nnnhhh sev, s’too much, can’t—” she mimics with a dramatic little gasp, rolling her eyes. “you sound real fuckin’ dumb like that, y’know that?” and then she gives you more.

❀ sevika who laughs when you try to hide your face or bite your lip. she grabs your chin, fingers dragging your bottom lip, and makes you look at her. “nah, don’t go all shy now. you were real loud a second ago. say it again for me, doll. what was it? ‘please’? ‘feels s’good’? bet i could make you cry it this time.”

❀ sevika who puts her big hand over your mouth. not to shut you up, but to feel how bad it gets. the vibrations of your cries. the way your hips buck and your eyes roll when her fingers sink deeper and her thumb brushes that sweet spot just right. then she pulls her hand back and licks her palm clean with a grin. “mm. still can’t believe a mouth that whiny tastes that good.”

❀ sevika who starts whispering your own sounds back to you after, when you’re boneless and twitching in her lap. smirking like the devil, blowing smoke between her teeth, and going, “you were so fuckin’ loud. sounded like a goddamn song. gonna keep you around just to hear that pretty cry again. i’ll won't even be gentle next time.” and you know she won’t.

go follow my tiktok @sevikastr4p i just made my first edit 🙏

[ilovejasmine22]

messages with tlou + arcane women about your panties ending up in their room ?! suggestive content.

abby anderson, ellie williams, dina, vi, and sevika.

[ilovejasmine22]

What about... Vi teaching you how to trib, as a friend of course... I don't know why I'm obsessed with the idea of her being all flustered when you ask her to show you since you've never done it before.

with friends like these

violet; super duper 18+, smut/fluff, lesbian pining, college roommate!vi au (kinda)

"f-fuck -- fuck, vi -- mm -- ngh --"

"j-juuuust like that -- c'mon --" vi is panting, her cheeks so warm her head is starting to spin, and she's not quite sure how she got here -- well no, she knows exactly how she got here -- but she can't quite think for the way she's got you trembling beneath her, your sodden cunts sliding against each other as you dig your nails into her arms, your head thrown back into the lumpy material of her pillow, her name on your lips like a curse or a prayer.

she groans, rucking her hips against yours, shifting her leg to find a better angle. you keen, mouth falling open in a soft pant, your finger scrabbling at her arms. she grins -- a half-feral thing, as she leans down, if only to watch you fall apart for her from as close as she can possibly get.

"vi, vi, vi!"

"yeah? gonna cum for me, pretty girl? gonna show me how good this feels?" she breaths, grunting as she hoists your thigh over her hip and fucks herself down over you all the harder.

it'd been a strange sort of conversation to have on a thursday night, you and her, drunk and high (respectively), sprawled out on the old couch in your living room, vi chuckling as you stutter yourself into a deeper and deeper corner --

"it's just -- i've never understood how it works --"

vi takes another long hit of her j, blowing out smoke, "what? scissoring?"

your blush darkens as you crinkle your nose.

"y-yeah! like how --" you place your mug of box-wine on the table and hold up both of your hands, two fingers extended as you try to simulate the motion, "it just doesn't seem like it'd be -- pleasant?"

vi grins, a bit too wide, reaches out with one of her hands to catch yours, tugging you closer.

"it's not like that -- chill -- chill -- relax your fingers, or -- legs -- whatever --" she giggles, head tipping back as she tries to wrangle one of your hands between both of hers, trying not to think too hard on the way you let yourself be manhandled into her lap, how easily you give into her instructions, how your skin smells just a bit like pastry bread, sweet and buttery and utterly, mind-bendingly delicious.

she swallows, frowning at your hand in hers --

"usually, you're like --" she tries to show you with her fingers criss-crossed with yours, "face to face, but like -- your legs are crossed --"

you giggle, watching as she tries to slot her fingers between yours.

you grab her hands in yours, shaking your head, tipping back even as she tries to yank you back into her.

"at this point, it'd be easier for you to just show me --"

your breath cuts off as vi's hands tighten around you, hauling you up and over her lap, so that somehow, you end up straddling her, your arms propped on her shoulders, your thighs on either side of her hips, her palms warm on your waist as you fight for a breath that she's long-since stolen.

there's a storm brewing behind the horizons of her ocean eyes, and lightning strikes against the flintstones in your stomach, setting your body ablaze as she bites her lips and looks up at you, her eyes going dark in the static-ridden light.

"yeah? you... you want me to show you how it's done?"

you swallow, saltwater and caramel, slick and sweet down your throat as you search her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

you find none -- only the hard-lined want you'd become oh-so familiar with as the days went on. the way you'd catch her watching you sometimes, right after you shower, the way you'd find yourself watching her, when she's trying to show off how well she a can flip a pancake in the pan, in nothing but boxers and a tank top.

"i-is that weird?" you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

vi lets out a soft groan, her eyes darkening as she catches the gesture.

"no -- i mean -- we're friends, right?" she asks, her voice so laced with want she can almost taste it.

you nod, your eyes caught in the net of her gaze, almost in a trance as you let your eyes slick down to her lips.

she leans up to kiss you; you lean down to let her.

it's simple after that -- and so, so easy -- her hoisting you up easy as anything, the pair of you tumbling into her bed, her asking in a voice that's almost a whisper (as if she's afraid she'll wake one of you up from this tender, tenuous daydream) --

"is this okay?"

you nod, eager, fingers sliding into her hair as she groans and peels the sleep shorts from you, tugging down your underwear along with it.

it's only been ten minutes, but vi thinks that it's been centuries, or perhaps only the span of a few seconds. she can't think when she's got you pinned beneath her like this, and she knows she must look a bit unhinged from where you are, sweat shining on her skin as she works her hips down over yours, intent on finding just the perfect angle.

"vi -- oh -- that feels --"

"a-ah fuck, princess -- holy shit --" vi jerks above you, a familiar coil tightening in her stomach as she tries to slow down her pace, to draw it out -- she wants to savor this, to remember this --

"vi -- vi -- mmngh -- th-that's s-so good -- you're making me -- oh god --" you're tugging on her arms, fingers looping around her wrists like bracelets, squeezing her tight as your head tips back and vi leans down to sink her teeth into the bared skin of your throat.

"shit, shit, shit -- no one's gonna -- gonna make you feel this good, hm? pretty g-girl -- no one but me -- fuck --" she rolls her hips, a breath hitching out of her as she feels your swollen clits catch, and then you're squirming beneath her, wetness slicking down your puffy pussy lips, the slick of it nearly throwing her off-pace as she sucks a dark hickey into your skin.

"o-only you, vi -- fuck, please, please, please --" you cum with a hard spasm, fire eating through you as vi whines into the crook of your neck, her own orgasm hitting her half a second later. and it's all you can do to reach out and hold her to you, letting her ride out the waves of her pleasure in soft jerks and heavy pants against you.

"h-hoooly shit..." vi puffs out a laugh against your collarbones as she pushes herself back up. you blink blearily up at her, a tired giggle bubbling out of you as vi pulls back and you both grimace at the soft shluck of your bodies coming apart, sticky with cum and sweat and whatever else.

"w-well --" you say, "i -- that was -- i think i get it now --"

vi stares at you for a second before breaking into a fit of laughter. you join in a second later, reaching for a wad of tissues from her bedside table and handing her a few. she takes it from you with a wide grin.

"and you thought it wouldn't be pleasant."

you crinkle your nose, making a face as the pair of you try in vain to mop up the mess between your bodies. vi holds out her hand for your tissue and you hesitate for a second before dropping it into her open palm.

"thanks," you say.

vi shrugs, biting her lip, her nose ring glinting in the warm glow of her study lamp. she turns to toss both wads into the trash bin by the door. you whoop as they fall in, one after the other.

"what are friends for, right?" she asks, turning back around with a loping grin. there's a kaleidoscope of color caught in the rings of her eyes, and a sadness that you don't have the time to unpack. so you shove back the wince that threatens to shake apart your composure at her words and smile right back.

"y-yeah -- right -- friends."

but you're pretty sure friends don't do what you and vi just did. and friends definitely don't wander back to their own room later that night, the smell of her still on your skin, a pulsing want echoing between your legs, a threading need ticking beneath your ribcage at the thought of her name.

[ilovejasmine22]

munch sevika.

dom!sevika, sub!reader, messy, pussy drunk oral, overstim, short drabble.

you don’t know when she got down there.

one minute, sevika had you against the wall, hand wrapped around your throat, teeth scraping the shell of your ear with a low, “you gonna be good for me, doll?”

and the next?

you’re sprawled, thighs over her shoulders, breath hitched, hands scrabbling against the headboard because holy fuck.

her tongue is everywhere.

she’s not gentle, she eats pussy like it’s a goddamn fight—lips sealing around your clit, tongue relentless, messy, ravenous. It’s not slow, not teasing—

It’s possession.

you try to close your legs and she growls against you, metal arm pinning your thigh open like she owns it. (she does)

you’re already shaking, already dripping, already on the edge—

and then she spits on your pussy, spreads it with her tongue like she’s savoring it, and rasps, “tastes better every fuckin’ time.”

and baby, you’re gone.

moaning. squirming. crying out her name like a prayer while she sucks your soul straight out through your cunt.

she doesn’t stop.

not until you’re ruined.

not until you beg.

and even then?

she licks her lips and smirks,

“think i’m done?

nah, doll. i’m just gettin’ started.”

[ilovejasmine22]

y’all never hype studs the way you do butches on here and it pisses me tf off

[ilovejasmine22]

"is this enjoyable for you?" vi asks, amused as you nod happily. well, nod as much as you can with vi's arm around your neck.

she's got you in a tight headlock with enough pressure to make you a little hazy. all warm and tingly, your breathing slightly swallow.

"suh good," you murmur dreamily, hands squeezing at vi's strong forearm. "mmmm..."

"you're so weird," vi states fondly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "want it tighter?"

you can't nod eagerly enough.

[ilovejasmine22]

18+ minors and men dni, camgirl!reader, fucking-machine(r!receiving), ejaculating dildo, kind of loser!ellie, she has a serious parasocial relationship here, masturbation.

side note  #  this saddens me as it was a part of a three-part series i made for my previous blog vicorices when reaching 800 followers, (the blog's terminated by tumblr out of nowhere if you're confused) rip vicorices one minute of silence for all the things gone. there's a sevika and vi version too connected with the same site and the same cam!girl user, hope you enjoy my slutty and much more fag version of avengers: endgame // also, you wanna look at the directory?

‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎now that you’re here? check out z_vika's or cherryvi's file.

lately, ellie's been dreaming about you.

it's not like she knows you — she don't. but you're on her computer screen every night, on her phone during the day and it's constant, so constant you're there stuck on her braincells until she cannot function properly, until she needs to come home and see you again.

she's been stuck in this routine she cannot run from either, coming back from an exhausting five-hour class seasion on tuesday noon cause she knows that's when you scheduled your little live session back in hotdozed.com as you announced it the day before back in your socials.

so it’s fair to say ellie's once again locking the door, hidden in between a dozen of poorly-hanged posters and the white walls of her room, she closes the curtains cause she don't want to be disturbed in such an important moment: she’s usually like that. long, slender fingers shoved deep inside a needy pussy until she's there, legs spread on each side of the gamer chair she spends hours playing in, dildo kissing her entrance, barely hanging on until she's forcing it inside and the girl tries to resist, hold her release as long as possible but you're there on her computer screen face-deep in someone’s cunt and fuck she’s creaming all over. it’s always the damn same.

she gets why your username is miss death.

the image of you is sharp there on her computer, backpack on the floor, ellie's phone buzzes with some message she don't care about since you're there on the screen already and she's minutes late to your live transmission. any annoyance's being quickly erased when she sees the three-pieced-lingerie you're wearing as the music, distorted but clearly sounding like deftones, plays in the background of the neat room you’re in, patiently waiting for more people to join in.

there's a cigarette on your hand and ellie can see the smoke in the air as you dance seated comfortably on the couch she has seen million times before and god — she cannot start masturbating already. you're just there, being normal, and ellie refuses to touch herself until she sees you dripping for the camera.

"spacemoth has joined" you read getting closer to the video screen, giving a good sight of your tits as she can see your smile — "hey there baby, nice to see you here. was wondering if you were going to see me today."

now. ellie’s breathing gets stuck in her lungs for a moment cause you don't ever said anything to her directly, but it’s more than enough to make her squeeze her thighs together in pure, unbridled desire. underwear already dampening as you smoke unaware of the way she's leaking already for just a simple greeting.

"i can't say hi to everyone here ladies-" you chuckle in the stream when the chat claims your attention since they want to be welcomed like that as well "there's too much people here- i'd never finish. spacemoth is some loyal watcher i recognize don't get jealous."

you recognize her. sweet fuck, she’s your most loyal dog and you recognize her.

⠀⠀zvika: loving the set, death.

⠀⠀hashfag: ass looking yummm

"you like it?" you ask, getting up just to show your lovely underwear, tiny g-string, flowery details on your bra that seems to hold your tits just in place: looks expensive, good, makes ellie starve — "been buying some things to surprise the public you know?, you're the ones who let me afford this things so might as well put up a good show."

it all downhill from there, plain nasty.

missdeath has always been fucking filthy, and maybe that's why you're one of the top creators in hotdozed, but today? today you reached a whole new level of sacrilege when there's this mechanic sound in the air mixing well with the rock, slow music and your moans as the camera gives a hella good view of the fucking machine pushing the leaky dildo into your wet cunt like twenty minutes after you were greeting people so kindly. the cigarette’s consumed in the ashtray, and you’re slightly bend right at the waist so ellie can see your face in the screen as you use your hands to spread your ass-cheeks further apart and give an even better view of the swollen folds of your pussy, clearly struggling to take it all in: fucking dedication, pure sin.

so god-fucking-bless-ejaculating-dildos. it's a miracle cause ellie don't really know how she's not stuffing her own cunt with her fingers at the sight of you so fucked out like that, but she's absorbed there. paralyzed as she can hear through her computer speakers, the wet sounds your body makes when making room for the big dildo who's already painting your insides white.

it's a mess, your floor must be a mess cause everything's white as ellie seems to take pity on herself finally when her fingers rub on her neglected cunt, already in her undies cause she knows she wont be able to just watch — that she needs something to do about it, satisfy every end of her feverish needs. it drips from between your legs, stains your skirt, sticks in between your legs and all over your ass, the fake cum just keeps leaking and fucking leaking.

so yes, lately, ellie's been dreaming about you.

about being able to reach you, arms length — she'd pull you deeper against the fucking machine cause you can take it, she has seen it before, whisper against your ear how good you’re doing it, how warm you feel against her own body.

⠀⠀cherryvi: such a good slut taking cock, push it deeper.

the subscriber sends a good amount of hd-tokens that seems to be a lot of money, must be since ellie can see your hips moving down and you're bending just in right angle so the machine is pushing the dildo balls deep and good-fucking-life, cause you look full. cock must be rubbing consistently against your cervix and ellie herself is parting her legs wider to finger-fuck herself better, your moans get louder, gripping on your tits, and it's a miracle that you're even standing, cause your legs are shaking so much she doubts you can keep on your feet.

"will you fill me out this good with your strap huh?" you ask looking at the camera from over your shoulder, half lidded eyes, you can barely finish the sentence, distorted expression already as the cum continues to leak from between your legs — "bet you'd fuck me even better, even harder.”

"oh-fuck," ellie moans, face hot, her body temperature rises until she's sweating, cursing under her breath as the wet sound of her own cunt being overused mingles with yours throughout the shiny, dirty screen — "that's s'good-"

she can see the moment your fingers make when you turn on the speed of the machine even faster, a hollow, almost choked out sound filling the room you're in as the microphone seems to catch every noise of it, the pornographic noise of your moans, the way you shake and you force yourself to keep taking it either way, barely resisting.

ellie likes it because it's real, much real when the average content creator only moans for a male audience all dumb and dull, don't fake it like other users in hotdozed. the pleasure that's contorting your face it's real and tangible, your erratic movements taking cock like you were made for it are nothing but true and fucking delicious.

shit you'd look so good with her cock nestled inside, warmed up, slippery as ellie fills you out.

and she'd like to send you money too. be actively commenting like other users do but her hands are busy, way too busy when a wet, lewd sound fills the air every time she thrusts her fingers inside and her cunt clenches at the invasion of three digits curled all the way in. it's imminent, crashes like thunder and it's a disaster just like your damn stream — ellie’s leaking all over her gamer chair and you're trying to resist cause the hd-tokens keeps coming until you finally cum, not really stopping but making the machine go slower, slower until you're falling into the couch and you're smiling, still pushing the fake cum from inside you as you make a nice close up of your used, swollen pussy already sticky.

⠀⠀spacemoth: always taking it like a champ.

ellie’s donation catches your attention soon after, and she can see it too: barely focused gaze reading her comment before smiling at it, glistening cunt, arousal already well mixed with the white cum still leaking out.

“you liked it?” you’re talking to her, must be. rough voice, strained as you’re staring at the camera, letting the public have a good look of your still tweaking pussy as you try to catch your breath “are you going to stay and keep playing with me spacemoth? don’t leave yet.”

and ellie’s making another donation this time, a higher one than before cause fuck it: she wont buy shit online for a while, this is important.

⠀⠀spacemoth: gonna shove those pretty fingers up in your pussy? you’re dripping and missing a lot of cum baby, please push it in.

shit.

she’s going to masturbate again now, it’s an utter need as she’s turned on as ever again when you’re doing what she asked without a second though.

yes, it's fair to say ellie loves the internet.

yeah. fair to say she loves hotdozed and her little miss death.

[ilovejasmine22]

when you need the job done

neighbor!ellie williams x reader

neighbor!ellie universe

summary: moving out alone for the first time might be scary—and awfully exhausting. you’re lucky you have a very handy lesbian as a neighbor.

word count: 6.8k

THE BOX you were carrying was way too heavy. You knew it the second you stubbornly yanked it out of the trunk, but by the time you realized how unwise that was, you were already halfway up the steps to your new apartment. The one that didn't have an elevator.

A bead of sweat ran down your temple. Your arms were shaking, the cardboard creaking ominously, and you could feel the edge of a textbook digging into your thigh through the bottom of the box.

You grunted softly as you stagger forward, muttering under your breath, "okay, stupid idea, officially noted."

That’s when you heard it. A door creaking open. You looked up, flustered, and caught sight of her. A young woman that was standing in the open doorway of the unit just across the hall. Faded gray hoodie, sweatpants that sat a little too low on her hips, and a tangle of auburn hair in a messy bun that looked like it gave up halfway. One hand gripped the door frame, the other clutching a half-eaten granola bar.

She blinked at you, shocked. You offered a small, sheepish smile. "Hi."

She blinked again. "Uh—hi."

There was a beat of silence. She kept staring at you, and you shifted your weight, struggling to hold the box and at the same time balance your pride. "I, uh… just moved in."

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, no—I figured. New face. And boxes. That’s… obvious. Sorry."

You bit back a laugh. "I promise I’m not usually this pathetic. Just… long drive. Too much stuff."

Ellie snapped out of it suddenly, like her brain had just rebooted. "Shit—wait. Let me help you with that."

Before you could protest, she’s stepping forward, quickly wiping her hand on her hoodie like she just remembered she’s eating, then gently taking the box from you like she’s worried you’ll shatter if she’s too rough. And she lifted it as if it didn't weight anything. God, you're not sure if it was just the exhaustion, but was the room suddenly hotter? Or was it just you?

"Oh my god," you exhaled in relief, letting your arms drop. "Thank you. You may have just saved my spine."

She grinned softly, cheeks a little pink. "No problem. I’m Ellie, by the way."

You gave her your name, and she repeated it quietly under her breath, like she wanted to make sure she didn’t forget. It was oddly endearing.

She followed you into your apartment and gently sat the box down by the window. "Wow. You’ve got, like… a lot of books."

You glanced around at the stack of boxes marked READING / PLEASE DON’T CRUSH, smiling a little. "Guilty. I had a system, but the system kinda died somewhere around hour five of unpacking."

Ellie nodded like she got it. "Want some help? I mean—only if you want. I don’t have anything going on. Just… reorganizing my guitar pedals and regretting life choices."

You raised an eyebrow. "Guitar pedals?"

She blushed faintly. "Yeah. Music nerd. Don’t judge."

"I’d never," you replied, already walking toward the nearest box. "If you’re serious about helping, I’ve got a bookshelf I was too scared to try assembling alone."

She perked up immediately. "I’m your girl."

An hour later, Ellie was sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, her hoodie sleeves pushed up—her arm tattoo on full display, as she studied the instruction manual with a look of pure concentration.

There was a screw between her lips and her hair was falling in her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. You were lying on the rug beside her, trying not to laugh. "You look like you’re defusing a bomb."

She spat out the screw with a grin. "This is Ikea. You never know." You laughed, and Ellie beamed at the sound. "Okay, hand me the... um. That… L-shaped—thingy."

"You mean the Allen wrench?"

"Right. That. Allen. Bastard of a wrench."

You passed it to her and watched as her hands worked with practiced ease, though she was still mumbling things like 'who designed this nightmare' under her breath. After a few minutes, the pieces started to come together.

You offered her a drink from your tiny fridge, and she takes it with a soft 'thanks,' sipping while scanning the partially-built shelf.

"You know," she said casually, "this place is nice. Good lighting. Kinda cozy already."

"Think I’ll like it here."

Ellie shrugged, maybe a little too fast. "Yeah, well. I mean. You’ve got a cool neighbor, so."

You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall. "I really do."

ELLIE WAS standing at your door, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, wiping her hands on her jeans even though she hadn’t touched anything in the past ten minutes. The bookshelf was done. The boxes were stacked a little neater. She helped more than she should have for someone who just met you, and now there’s a weird lull in the air like… okay, what happens now?

You stretched your arms overhead, groaning quietly as your back pops. "Okay, officially retiring from lifting furniture."

Ellie snorted. "You say that now. Wait until you realize you still have, like, six more boxes marked 'miscellaneous disaster'."

You groaned again, dramatically this time. "Those are tomorrow’s problems." Then, with a soft sigh, you glanced toward your hallway and say, "God, I still need to get a new bulb for the bedroom. I haven’t been able to see in there since I got here."

Ellie raises her brows. "No light at all?"

"None," you say. "And of course, I packed the lamps in the box that’s... still in my car. Which is currently blocked in by some delivery truck of doom."

There was a pause. You expected a laugh, maybe a 'good luck with that.' Instead, she played with two of her fingers awkwardly, and smiled at you. "I could take you?" she said.

You blinked. "What?"

"To the store," she shrugged, eyes darting away like she regrets offering. "I was just gonna run out and grab snacks or something anyway."

You tilted your head. "You were?"

Ellie turned red, but tried to play it cool. "Yeah. Definitely. Wasn’t just gonna, y’know, spiral alone in my apartment or anything."

You both knew that was a lie. But you laughed, and something in her posture relaxed. "Okay," you replied, smiling. "Yeah. Let’s go lightbulb hunting."

Ten minutes later, you’re both in Ellie’s dusty old truck—windows slightly cracked, and a faint smell of pine from a crooked air freshener hanging from the mirror. She was gripping the wheel like she’s trying not to white-knuckle it, sneaking occasional glances at you when she thinks you’re not looking. You’re pretty sure you caught every single one.

At the hardware store, the lightbulb section was far more overwhelming than it had any right to be. You stood in front of it together, baffled by the sheer number of wattage options.

"Why are there so many types?" you whispered.

Ellie whispered back, "capitalism."

Eventually, you grabbed the right one (after way too much debate about warm vs. cool lighting), and Ellie casually picked up a few things for herself. Chips. A soda. A pack of sour candy she pretended not to want until you caught her staring at it for a solid minute.

"You’re definitely a sour candy person," you said as she tosses it into the basket.

Ellie shrugged, cheeks pink. "You're saying that like it’s a bad thing."

You shook your head. "No, just… makes sense."

"Yeah?"

"Yep," you said softly, smiling. "It’s cute."

She froze. Didn’t say anything for five seconds. Then muttered a very quiet, 'Oh.' You pretended not to notice how red her ears go.

BACK AT YOUR apartment, it took about eight minutes to screw in the new bulb—and then you were both just… standing in your now-lit bedroom, staring at the glow like you’ve just witnessed a miracle.

"Let there be light," Ellie said reverently.

You laughed and flopped back onto your mattress dramatically. "I owe you my life."

She leaned against the doorway, hands in her hoodie pocket, watching you with the kind of soft smile she probably doesn’t even realize she’s wearing. "You don’t owe me anything."

You glanced at the clock. "You hungry?"

Ellie paused. "Me?"

"No, the bookshelf." You smirked. "Of course you, dummy. C’mon. I’m starving. And you did save my spine."

She tried to brush it off with a joke—'I do take payment in pepperoni'—but you could tell she was secretly thrilled.

Twenty-five minutes later, a pizza box was open between you on the living room floor, two paper plates balancing precariously on a stack of books. You’d strung up some fairy lights that Ellie offered to 'totally not judge you for owning,' and now the room is bathed in warm, flickering gold.

You were sitting cross-legged, a slice in hand. "God, I didn’t realize how hungry I was."

Ellie smiled behind her cup of soda. "You looked like you were gonna pass out when I showed up earlier."

"Honestly? Close."

There was a pause. She glanced at you, then down at her food, then back at you. "I’m glad you let me help," she says.

"Yeah?"

She nods, playing with a corner of the box. “I don’t… really do that. Talk to people, I mean. Not right away. But you’re… easy."

You rose an eyebrow, smirking. "Easy?"

"I mean—you’re easy to talk to,” she blurted. "Not like—not in a bad way. You just—shit. That sounded wrong."

You burst out laughing. "Relax. I know what you meant."

She groaned into her hands. "Kill me."

"Never," you laughed. There’s a lull after that. A comfortable one.

You leaned back on your hands, stretching your legs out toward her. "So what’s your story, Neighbor Ellie? Mysterious girl across the hall. Fixes furniture. Gives rides. Loves sour candy."

She gave you a look. "You clocked all that in one night?"

"I’m a fast learner."

She exhaled a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay, well. I moved here a couple years ago. Work in a CD store. Play guitar in my free time. Live a thrilling life of talking to no one and watching horror movies until 2 AM."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "Truly a menace."

She smirked. "I contain multitudes."

You nudged her leg with your foot. "I think you’re cool."

Ellie went so quiet after that you worry you went too far. But then she said, soft: "I think you’re pretty cool too."

Neither of you moved for a second. The pizza was getting cold, the lights were flickering softly. She was staring at you like you hung the stars, and your heart’s doing something very inconvenient in your chest.

IT WASN’T HARD TO figure out where Ellie worked. Not like you stalked her or anything—she just... mentioned it. Casually. In passing. And it stuck with you, that offhand comment about shifts and sorting and 'old people complaining about the price of CDS like it’s 1985.'

And okay, maybe you were a little too curious. Maybe you had a free day and a really good memory. And maybe there weren’t that many record stores in town to begin with.

You checked out the first shop—a dusty little place with an impressive jazz section and a guy behind the counter who looked old enough to have invented jazz. No Ellie. The second one was sleek and modern, curated for aesthetic Instagram posts, with alphabetized playlists and diffused lighting. Also, no Ellie. But the third one… That’s where you saw her.

She was behind the counter, alone, hunched over a small stack of CDs, scribbling something onto tiny sticky notes with a black pen clutched between ink-smudged fingers. Her hair was tied up in a low bun, loose strands falling into her face as she worked. She was mouthing the words to whatever track was playing overhead—some soft, rock ballad you didn’t recognize—but it made the whole place feel hushed, intimate, like stepping into someone’s favorite memory.

You stood near the entrance for a second too long.

Ellie glanced up and froze. Her pen paused mid-word. You caught the brief flicker of surprise on her face—like she wasn’t expecting to ever see you here, like this part of her life was separate and you’d somehow wandered past the invisible boundary.

But then her expression shifted, softening into something unreadable. The corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying to decide whether to smile or run.

She settled on a weird middle ground. "Oh," she said nonchalantly. "Hey."

You raised a hand, suddenly hyper-aware of your own body, your posture, the fact that you hadn’t really thought through what you’d say when this moment came. "Hey. Fancy seeing you here."

Ellie blinked. "In my place of work?"

You laughed, and she smiled for real this time. "Right. I was just... exploring the neighborhood," you lied. "Didn’t realize this store was so close."

She nodded slowly, clearly not buying it—the store was a twenty-minute drive from the apartment complex— but was too polite to call you out. "Yeah? You into CDs?"

"Definitely," you said, scanning the shelves like you weren’t about to have a heart attack. "I mean, I personally prefer vinyls, but yeah, CDs are like, super retro. Very... round."

Ellie snorted. "That’s one way to describe them."

You wandered closer, pretending to browse, your fingers grazing the spines of old cases. She watched you, but not in a judgmental way. More like she was trying to figure you out.

"Do you work every day?" you asked after a moment.

"Nah," she said, leaning on the counter. "Just a few days a week. Tuesdays, Thursdays, sometimes Saturdays."

You nodded like that wasn’t valuable information now burned into your brain. You grabbed a Fleetwod Mac CD, and took out your wallet to pay. "Cool," you said. "Guess I’ll have to stop by again."

"No, uh, don’t worry. It’s on the house." Ellie scratched the back of her neck, eyes darting to her Casio watch. "You, uh... wanna hang out after I’m done? My shift ends at five."

"You sure?"

"You don’t have to. I just thought—I dunno, maybe we could go get coffee. Or you could show me your superior taste in 'very round CDs.'"

You grinned. "I’d like that."

Ellie looked down, then back up through her lashes. "Cool. Yeah. Cool."

You ended up spending the next half hour pretending to look through racks while sneaking glances at her—and she, in return, kept stealing glances at you in the reflection of the display glass. And when five o’clock finally rolled around, she practically flew out from behind the counter, tugging on her jacket and fumbling with the sleeves like she was nervous. Which, honestly, made two of you.

THE COFFEE SHOP Ellie picked was small, local, and mostly empty by the time you both got there—quiet enough that your conversation didn’t have to compete with the noise, but not so silent that the pauses felt heavy. The barista gave Ellie a little nod when she walked in, like she was a regular, and Ellie just muttered a soft 'hey' back before holding the door open for you.

You sat by the window, your cups warming your hands, and the conversation came easier than you thought it would. Ellie was shy, yeah, but not in that way where she tried to disappear. It was more like she was deliberate. Careful. She listened to you like you were saying things worth remembering.

She told you about the weird guy who always came in looking for jazz CDs they didn’t have, and how she’d once spent two hours reorganizing the punk section just because she couldn’t stand the way someone else had done it. You talked about the move, the disaster of trying to assemble your own bookshelf, and the apartment above yours that sounded like a zoo with a drum set.

Ellie laughed at that one, and you caught yourself staring just a little too long at the way her eyes crinkled when she did it. You suddenly felt the urge to count every single freckle that was marked in her face.

Somewhere between a refill and a shared chocolate chip cookie, she glanced at the clock and said, "Wanna come over?"

"To your place?"

She scratched at the back of her neck. "I mean, only if you want. No pressure. I just—I have this CD collection I was talking about and, uh... coffee shops close eventually."

You tried not to smile too obviously. "Sure. I’d love to."

Ellie’s apartment was quite similar to yours—after all, both were from the same block, but something about it was undeniably her. The couch was beat-up but clean, the walls were decorated with band posters and a couple of hand-drawn sketches you didn’t ask about yet, and her windowsill had a few neglected plants that were somehow still alive.

"I wasn’t really expecting company," she said, kicking off her shoes near the door. "Sorry if it’s a little... messy."

You looked around. "Ellie, this is better than mine by far."

She shrugged, clearly flustered, and motioned for you to take a seat while she made herself busy putting on a playlist— just background enough to not distract from her own nervous energy. With your drink still in hand, you wandered to the shelf near the TV, running your finger along the neatly organized spines of her CD collection. "So this is the shrine."

"Hey, don’t mock the shrine," she said, coming to stand beside you. "It’s got history."

You glanced at the rows and rows of titles—some familiar, others completely new to you. "What’s your holy trinity, then?"

She paused, seriously considering it. "Green Day, Radiohead, and—don’t laugh—The Smashing Pumpkins."

You blinked. "Why would I laugh?"

"I dunno. People always think I’m gonna say something cooler. Nirvana or something."

You smiled. "I think that is cool."

Ellie ducked her head and muttered, "Yeah, well... you look cool, so I’m trusting your judgment."

You turned toward her, and right as you opened your mouth to say something, you felt it—a warm splash of beverage sloshing right onto your top. You looked down at the spreading stain and groaned. "Oh my god. I can’t take me anywhere."

Ellie reacted fast, already rummaging through a basket of laundry near the couch. "Wait—here. I, uh, I’ve got something you can wear."

She tossed you a hoodie, worn and soft and a little big. The same one she wore the first time she saw you. You pulled it on without thinking—slightly mortified, and very aware of how it smelled exactly like her. It was stupid. It was just detergent and something like cedar and maybe... her shampoo? But it hit you like a memory you hadn’t made yet, and when you looked back at Ellie, she was definitely flustered.

"You okay?" she asked, voice a little tight.

You nodded, tugging at the sleeves. "This is so comfy. You might never get it back."

Ellie laughed nervously. "That’s, uh... fine. You look good in it."

The sentence hung between you for a beat too long. You turned back to the CDs. "Show me your favorites."

And she did.

You sat cross-legged on her living room floor while she pulled out album after album, fingers brushing the covers like they were sacred texts. Time slipped away. The music got quieter, the light outside faded to black, and before either of you realized it, the clock on her microwave blinked 1:04 AM.

"Oh shit," Ellie said, glancing over. "You’re probably exhausted. I didn’t mean to keep you here so long."

You rubbed your eyes, yawning. "I am tired. But like, in a good way. I had fun."

Ellie stood awkwardly, hovering near the door. "Do you want me to walk you back?”

"It’s literally ten steps ahead."

"Still," she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.

There was a weird, sudden stillness. Not uncomfortable exactly—just... charged. Like you’d both walked to the edge of something without realizing it, and now neither of you knew what to do. You stood in the doorway, Ellie’s hoodie still wrapped around you, warm from her and too soft to take off just yet.

"I should go," you said.

"Okay," Ellie agreed, voice quiet.

You could feel it—just beneath the surface—the shared, unspoken thing you both wanted. The maybe. The what if. But neither of you crossed the line.

Instead, you gave her a soft smile and a breathy 'goodnight,' and Ellie rubbed the back of her neck and murmured it back. When the door finally closed behind you, your heart thudded like you’d just run a mile.

Back in your apartment, you curled into the matress that laid on the floor, still wearing her hoodie, surrounded by the quiet hum of the night, and told yourself you were fine. That you’d get another chance. You didn’t know Ellie was sitting on the other side of the wall, wide awake, hoodie-less, and thinking the exact same thing.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke slowly. And the first thing that you felt was Ellie’s hoodie. Still wrapped around you. Still warm in the chest, even if the sleeves were cold now. You’d never meant to fall asleep in it, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself take it off either. Not when it still smelled like her. Not when it felt like the last piece of her you got to keep before things got too real. Before either of you dared to name what last night had almost been.

You sat up, groaning at the way your spine protested after crashing half-sideways across your bare mattress. One arm still tucked under a throw pillow, hair wild with sleep. You ran your hand through it and stretched—and that’s when you heard the voices. Muffled at first. Laughter. Two people in the hallway, maybe just outside your door. You froze.

One of them was Ellie. You’d recognize her voice anywhere by now. That low rasp that turned warm when she laughed. And she was laughing—louder than you’d heard her in days. And the other voice? Feminine. Confident. Light and teasing.

You moved quietly, barefoot on the wooden floor, hoodie still draped over your frame like a second skin. You opened your apartment’s door just enough to let sound bleed in, and curiosity got the better of you. Just a peek, you told yourself.

You leaned into the silence of your own apartment, looking at the hall. And there she was. Ellie. Hair still damp from a shower, in a flannel over a gray tee and those dirty Converse she always stomped around in. She looked so relaxed, so casual—leaning against the stair railing, grinning in a way she never quite had with you. Her hand came up to push her hair out of her face, and she was looking at the girl beside her. Dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. Pretty. Effortless. Golden skin and a wicked smile and that kind of magnetic energy you’d always admired from a distance. She looked like someone who knew how to charm your mom and talk about records without ever trying too hard. The kind of girl who just fit.

She playfully shoved Ellie’s shoulder and said something that made them both burst into another fit of laughter. And your heart sank. Of course. Of course Ellie wasn’t single. What were you thinking? That someone like her—funny, sweet, handy, effortlessly cool—would just be floating around, unattached? That she'd invite you over, lend you her hoodie, stay up talking music with you ‘til one in the morning because she wanted something more? No. You’d misread it. All of it. You closed the door quietly.

Your face felt hot. Your eyes threatened to let out a couple of tears. You slipped the hoodie off and folded it, hands trembling just slightly, and placed it gently on the edge of the couch like it might burn you if you touched it for too long. Like it had just become hers again, not something you were allowed to keep holding.

And then you started getting ready. Quieter than usual. Slower. You told yourself you’d imagined it. That it didn’t matter. That it was fine. You’d just… back off. Respect the boundary you hadn’t realized existed.

Ellie noticed something was off that same day. No music playing. No lights on. Not even the faint sound of footsteps inside like usual. The little signs she’d come to expect over the past few days—gone. And the worst of all? You hadn’t texted her.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she walked down the street, bag slung over one shoulder, thumb hovering over your contact in her phone. She kept replaying last night over and over again in her head—the way you looked in her hoodie, how you smiled at her dumb music rants, how close your knees had been on the floor, how you hadn’t kissed her when you left. And how she hadn’t kissed you either. Too nervous. Too wrapped up in the fear of ruining something before it even started.

She walked into the shop, tossed her bag behind the counter, and barely had time to clock in before Jesse—her coworker, and unfortunately, her most observant friend—poked his head in from the back room. "Yo, Williams."

"What."

"You got the personality of a wet sock today. Did something happen?"

Ellie groaned. "I’m fine."

"What the fuck? You’re not. You sighed seven times during that one sentence. That’s a record, even for you."

She pulled the stool out and sat down behind the register, slumping dramatically. "It’s nothing."

Jesse raised a brow. "Is it about hoodie girl?"

Ellie snapped her head up. "What? How do you—"

"You literally texted me last night 'she’s wearing my hoodie and I might die.'"

"Okay first of all, fuck you. And second, I was emotionally compromised."

Jesse leaned on the counter, smirking. "So what happened?"

Ellie looked down, fiddling with the string of her hoodie. "I don’t know. We hung out, it was great—like, really great—and I thought we were gonna maybe... kiss or something? But then she left, and now she’s just—cold. Like, totally ignoring me."

"She see you with Dina?"

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

"Dee told me she went to pick up her speaker this morning. Maybe she saw you two together."

Ellie’s jaw dropped. "She thinks I’m dating Dina?"

Jesse just gave her a look. "Wouldn’t be the wildest assumption, dude. Dina is hot. And you two always look cozy as hell."

Ellie slumped back in the stool. "Shit."

"So go tell her." Jesse folded his arms. "Like, right now."

"I can’t just show up and be like 'Hey, by the way, that girl I was laughing with? Not my girlfriend!'"

"Why not?"

"Because it’s—" Ellie rubbed her face. "I don’t know, it’s embarrassing. What if she didn’t see me with Dina? What if I read everything wrong? What if she’s not into me like that?"

Jesse tilted his head. "Are you into her like that?"

Ellie didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. He smiled. "Then fix it, you idiot."

But Ellie just sat there, heart caught somewhere between hope and dread, wondering how the hell she was supposed to explain the mess when you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

FOR THE REST of the week, you did your best to act like everything was fine.

Avoiding Ellie wasn’t hard, exactly. Not at first. You slipped out early to grab coffee before she left for work. And you told yourself—again and again—that it didn’t hurt. That you weren’t letting your mind wander back to the way she’d smiled at you in her dim little apartment, the way her voice had gone all soft and reverent when she’d talked about her guitar and her favorite bands. That you weren’t still thinking about her hoodie, folded on your couch like something sacred, something almost yours.

But even so… you missed her. And she noticed. She wasn’t stupid, either. Every time Ellie walked past your apartment, her chest tightened just a little. She couldn’t stop checking—subtle little glances at your windows, your doormat, listening for footsteps inside. But she was met with nothing, just pure silence.

It had been nine days. Nine days since your almost-date. Since you wore her hoodie and sat so close she could smell your shampoo. Since you’d yawned around midnight and she’d practically panicked, blurting something awkward about how you didn’t have to go but also yeah totally if you’re tired cool cool yeah no worries. And she hadn’t even walked you to your place. Just stood there, heart in her throat, as you smiled at her one last time without kissing her. Now you didn’t even look at her. And Ellie? Ellie didn’t know how to fix it.

That evening, a thunderstorm rolled in with no warning. It was more chilly than you expected, and by the time you realized, Ellie’s hoddie was back like a second skin. You tried to lie to yourself, thinking you were too tired to open the winter clothes box. But in reality, it was just to feel it again. You’d tried to settle into a book, when the lights suddenly flickered… and then went out. You sat in stunned silence for a beat before peeking out your window and confirmed what you feared—the whole damn block was dark. Not a gleam streetlamp in sight.

And the worst part? You didn’t have a single candle. So you were swallowed by black-pitched darkness. You were just settled back onto your couch, the book long forgotten by now, when someone knocked. A soft, tentative knock. You froze. And then came her voice.

"Hey… It’s Ellie."

Your heart did a little jump, stupid and immediate. You stood slowly, suddenly all too aware of your pajama shorts and the way your hair had half-dried in soft, tangled waves.

You opened the door. Ellie stood there holding two thick candles—one already lit, the other one tucked under her arm—and a slightly sheepish expression. She was wearing a red flannel, straight jeans, and a pair of black Converse. Her hair was tucked messily behind her ears, her freckles barely visible in the low light.

"Power’s out," she said.

"Yeah. I noticed."

She shifted her weight, and if she had noticed you wearing her hoodie, she chose not to say anything. "Thought you might need these."

You took the candles from her slowly, your fingers brushing hers in the exchange. Her hand was warm. You swallowed. "Thanks."

Ellie nodded, but didn’t move. She glanced into your apartment and then back at you, chewing the inside of her cheek. "You okay?" she asked. "You’ve been, uh, quiet lately."

You hesitated, trying to ignore the knot isnide your chest. She had noticed. Your heart beat against your ribs, stubborn and tired. "Yeah. I’m fine."

A pause. "You’ve been avoiding me."

Your breath caught as you looked away. "No, I haven’t."

Ellie tilted her head, gently, like she knew you were lying. "Okay. Cool, then."

"Do you wanna come in?" You mumbled, stepping back. Fuck. Why’d you even said that?

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Only if it’s okay."

You nodded once. "Yes. It’s okay." So she stepped in.

The candlelight made everything feel hazier, slower. Her shadow danced across your floor as she walked toward your living room and stood awkwardly near your bookshelf, hands shoved into her hoodie pocket. You followed her in, set the candles on the table, and sat.

Ellie sat too—but not too close. She glanced around, then down at her lap.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," she said finally, voice soft. "The other day. At my place."

"You didn’t," you said too quickly. She looked up. You wrung your hands in your lap. "I just… It was silly for me to misread the situation, I guess."

Ellie blinked, then blinked again. "What do you mean?"

You gave her a look. "You know. I saw you with the girl... friend."

Realization dawned on her face. "Dina?"

You didn’t answer. Great. She had a pretty name too.

Ellie let out a breath and leaned back. "She’s not my girlfriend. She’s—God—she’s like my sister. We’ve known each other since middle school. We were talking about Uncharted."

That made you look at her. "Uncharted?"

"Yeah, she was making fun of me for being obsessed with it, and playing the stupid game the whole night. It wasn’t flirting."

A small laugh broke out of you before you could stop it, quick and surprised. Ellie smiled—just a little. And then the room got quiet again. That flickering, charged quiet where neither of you really knew what to say next.

Until Ellie whispered, "You look really good in my hoodie."

You swallowed hard, but didn’t answer. Ellie’s gaze flicked to yours. Her cheeks were flushed, soft pink in the candlelight, but smiled anyway.

"I thought maybe you were gonna kiss me," she murmured.

You felt your whole face go warm. "I wanted to."

She blinked slowly. "Then why didn’t you?"

"I got scared."

Ellie’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Me too."

You looked at her then. She looked nervous, her knee bouncing like she couldn’t sit still. She was leaning in just a little—but not enough. Like she was halfway between running and staying. And then she said it, "can I try again?"

Your breath caught. You nodded once, biting your lower lip unconsciously. And this time, she leaned all the way in, her hands finding your cheeks. The kiss was soft, shy, and barely there—like both of you were scared it would vanish if you moved too fast. But then she pressed in a little closer, and your hand slid gently to her cheek, and she smiled against your mouth.

And when you pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. In the flickering candlelight, everything else faded. No hallway whispers. No misunderstandings. Just Ellie. Warm and nervous and real.

THE MORNING SUN peeked in lazily through Ellie’s half-drawn curtains. The green-eyed girl had been working her ass off last week, and still pleaded you to wake her up once you did, but you weren’t going to do it. She needed the sleep. So here you were now, bleary-eyed, standing barefoot in her kitchen and wearing Ellie’s Pink Floyd oversized shirt.

You were trying to figure out the ancient coffee machine she kept saying 'wasn’t that bad' when you heard the apartment door creak open. No knock. No announcement. Just a solid, casual entrance. You froze with one hand on your chest, wide-eyed.

"Ellie, if you’re gonna leave your damn wrench where I can trip over it, I swear to—"

You turned just in time for him to round the corner into the living room, carrying a paper bag and squinting toward the kitchen. He paused when he saw you. His eyes dropped to the oversized shirt, the unbrushed hair, your whole deer-in-headlights vibe. His brow lifted—just slightly—but it said everything. "Well," he said slowly, adjusting the grip on the bag, "you ain’t Ellie."

You cleared your throat. "Um—no. She’s still asleep. I think. Probably."

The man stared at you for another long beat, then sighed through his nose and gave a slow, skeptical nod. "Right."

And just like that, Ellie burst out of her room, hair a mess, wearing a tank top, some boxers and a mismatched pair of socks, looking completely and utterly disoriented.

"Oh—shit," she groaned, voice thick with sleep. "Joel. What—uh—what are you—what time is it?"

Joel raised the bag. "Brought you breakfast. And coffee. Thought I’d surprise you. Guess you beat me to it."

Your face was probably nuclear at that point. Ellie looked like she might combust from within. Joel’s gaze shifted between the two of you. He let out a grunt. "Well. I’ll be damned."

"I’m gonna—uh—bathroom. I’m gonna use it. Yours," you muttered, already halfway down the corridor. "Yep. Bathroom. Gone." You shut the door behind you and leaned against it, hand covering your face.

Out in the living room, there was a heavy pause.

"So," Joel began, in a voice that could only mean trouble, "you finally got your head outta your ass."

"Dude. Please." Ellie rubbed a hand over her face. "She’s not— I mean—we’re not, like… together together."

Joel arched a brow. "Does she know that? ‘Cause she’s wearin’ half your closet and looked quite comfortable in your kitchen."

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed. No response. No correction. Joel nodded to himself. "Didn’t think so."

"I didn’t say anything!" Ellie hissed, lowering her voice like you might somehow hear through the closed door.

"But you ain’t denying it either, kiddo." Joel said smugly. "Look, I’m not gonna give you the whole dad speech or... whatever. You’re grown. But if that girl’s gonna be hangin’ around, I expect you to treat her right. Like how I raised you. No ghostin’. No weird mind games. No—"

Ellie sputtered. "Jesus, Joel, can you not?"

"You like her or not?" He asked calmly.

She was quiet for a long beat. "…Yeah," she said, voice soft and barely audible.

Joel grunted, satisfied. "Then don’t be an idiot."

The bathroom door creaked open a second later. You emerged, trying your best to look composed despite the fact your heart was definitely doing somersaults.

Joel glanced between the two of you, and his face softened for just a second—like he was genuinely happy for Ellie. "Well," he said. "I should get goin’. You kids behave."

Ellie groaned, already anticipating some parting remark. "Don’t say it—"

Joel ignored her entirely, giving you a quick, amused glance. "Good luck dealin’ with this one," he said, jerking a thumb at Ellie like she wasn’t standing right there. "And bon appétit."

You grinned. "Thanks for the breakfast."

"Take care," Joel said with a wink, then stepped out the door and closed it behind him with a soft click.

A moment of silence settled over the apartment. You turned slowly to face Ellie, arms crossed, squinting with faux betrayal. "You. Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Me?" Ellie blinked, slightly offended. "What?"

"Don’t 'what' me, Williams," you said, marching toward her dramatically. "Your dad, or whatever he is—just walks in like he owns the place and finds me in your shirt, barefoot and barely awake, making a fool of myself trying to work that prehistoric coffee machine—"

"You mean the beautifully vintage coffee machine?" she interjected, raising a hand in mock offense.

You shoved her shoulder gently. "Don’t deflect! I looked like I had just rolled out of bed after a one-night stand!"

Ellie choked. "You didn’t! You—you look cute."

Your brain short-circuited at that for half a second, but you rallied. "I was wearing your clothes, Ellie!"

"I didn’t tell you to wear my clothes!" she argued, but her voice was breathless, half-laughing. "And you do look cute!"

You shoved her again, this time with both hands, and she stumbled backward into the couch, grinning as she caught herself.

"Oh, okay, so it’s my fault," she said, recovering. "Next time, I’ll just let you walk around naked. Note taken."

"You didn’t even try to explain!" you pointed out, still feigning dramatic offense.

Ellie held her hands up in surrender, though her face and ears were red. "Okay, okay, you’re right! I panicked!"

"You liked it," you accused.

"I did not—!" Ellie protested, but she was laughing mid-sentence. "Okay—maybe. Maybe a little. It was kinda… nice. I mean, not the surprise Joel part. That part sucked."

You hovered above her where she’d half-sunk into the couch cushions, breathless from all the mock fighting, face flushed. The laughter slowed between you both.

"It was nice," you echoed, voice soft now. "Him thinking I was your girlfriend."

Ellie looked up at you, suddenly quiet, her grin faded into something gentler, something almost vulnerable. "You didn’t run away screaming, so… that’s something."

You dropped your gaze, fighting a shy smile. "I thought about it. Then I remembered I still have your hoodie, and you’d probably come after me."

Ellie sat up a little straighter, nudging your knee with hers. "Damn right I would’ve. It’s one of my favorites, you know."

"You’re unbelievable."

"But charming," she added hopefully.

You tilted your head like you were thinking it over. "Eh. You’re on thin ice."

She reached over and poked your side, making you squirm. "I brought you breakfast."

"That was mostly Joel." You finally let yourself smile fully, sitting beside her and tucking your legs underneath you, shoulder brushing hers.

"But I didn’t stop him," she said proudly. "You’re welcome."

You laughed again, leaning your head on her shoulder without thinking. It just felt natural. Warm. Safe.

Her voice was softer now, almost a whisper: "You can… stay. If you want. A little longer. You don’t have to rush back."

You didn’t lift your head. "You sure? I might steal more of your clothes."

"I’d let you," she mumbled. Then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, she added, "they look better on you anyway."

Your heart flipped. "God," you murmured, eyes closing, "you’re such a loser."

"Yours though," she said under her breath.

perm taglist !

@valeisaslut @firefly-ace @sevslover @twopeoplee @mayfldss @elliesfavtoy @usuck @avalovesmus1c @samcvrpenters @mars4hellokitty @prettyinpink69 @yashirawr @furtherrawayy @maximumdreamlandcoffee @elliesfavgirlfriend @abcline006 @marieeeluvsyou @smaugayra @eriiwaiii2 @d1psht @creativedespaitr @leaaavesss @yasmilks

[ilovejasmine22]

sevika who takes it as a personal insult if you don't sit on her face properly. "babe, sit." she growls and forces you on her tongue, "there we go," her voice is muffled, "nice and sweet."

[ilovejasmine22]

I have a request based off of something that happened to me with my gf LMAO but if you could write a Vi and reader having ✨sesbian lex✨ and Vi suddenly gets a phone call. Instead of Stopping Vi covers reader’s mouth and answers the call, chatting normally as she continues to strap reader down and reader is struggling to stay quiet 👁️👁️ thanks pookie!

that's so hot pookie bless so glad u got to have that experience 👁️👁️

+18, mdni, carmech!vi bc i miss her wow

"n-ngh -- vi... r-right there --"

"yeah sweetness? like it when i fuck you right there?"

vi sounds a bit breathless, there's a light quirk to the side of her lips as she works her hips into yours, her strap hitting against a spot inside you that has your vision petering out at the edges. there's a heat curling in the base of your belly that makes your toes curl, your spine bend. you reach for her, sinking your fingers into her tightly corded forearms as she leans down to pin you back.

"fuck -- fuck -- you're so tight, pretty girl -- y'hear how wet you are for me?" she asks, even as you nod, a desperate bob of your head as she hoists your thigh over her hip to drill in all the deeper.

it's saturday afternoon, the air conditioner on full blast, the car garage empty for the heat. it'd been a slow kind of day, the kind where ennui tickles at the summer-stained corners of the imagination, threatening to set in. and when it does... well, there's only one thing for it --

"please, vi -- i'm gonna --"

she lets out a low groan, leaning down to suck a sloppy hickey against your shoulder. even though the pair of you have been together more than a year now, she's still as insatiable as when you'd just met her.

"that's it, c'mon princess -- cum for me, cum all over this strap like the good little girl you --"

the phone rings; her pace stutters.

you keen, squeezing your thighs around her hips, your heels digging into her back as she reaches for her cellphone and frowns down at the caller id. you shake your head vigorously, tugging at her arm.

"vi -- vi -- no don't --" you beg, because there's a dangerous smirk cresting her lips even as she presses a finger to them.

"shh... quiet princess, unless you want someone to hear," she murmurs, before swiping up and pressing the phone to her ear.

"heeeyyy silco, what's up? y'lookin for vander? he's out at a show in kansas -- oh yeah -- sure, we should still be good for dinner -- 7, at the bar, right?" vi rocks her hips down into yours and has to press her palm over your mouth to muffle your squeak.

"huh? no nothing -- just uh --" vi cocks an eyebrow down at you, swirling her hips, the feel of her strap dragging inside you nearly makes your eyes roll back. you clench down around her, biting down hard on your own lips to keep from making noise. she nods her approval before letting go of your mouth and straightening back up, resting her free hand on your hip to hold you still as she tugs back for a particularly hard thrust.

"-- doin' some maintenance work," she chuckles, "some of these screws are in a bit tight," she winks, pulling back and thrusting forward once more, "y'know how things get when they're not... worked out properly once in a while."

you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the coil tighten inside you with every soft shallow thrust of her hips, the tip of the silicon strap nudging up against your g-spot till it's all you can do to keep from falling apart. you scrabble for her wrist, giving her a warning tug as she laughs at something silco says, glancing down at your with dark, blown-out eyes.

"yeah, i know, i know, you've always hated the shop talk -- kay, we'll see you at dinner -- yep, she'll be there too," vi says, before bidding her goodbyes and clicking off her phone. she sets it face down on the bedside table and before returning to the shape of you pinned beneath her.

"f-fuck vi... th-that's not --" you try to force out a coherent sentence, but vi only coos as she reaches down between you to flick playfully at your clit. immediately, your mouth falls open, and you jerk up against her. she laughs.

"mmm... i really do love it when you're tryna keep quiet for me princess..." she says, leaning down to brush her lips against yours. you yank her down for a kiss, fingers fisting in the choppy pink hair at the base of your skull. she groans into the kiss, fucking into you now with the kind of wild abandon you've come to know all too well.

within a minute, she has you shuddering apart, coming hard enough for the world to blink out for a few seconds, the air in your lungs to taste sweet and bitter all at once. she holds you down and chases her own climax, muttering the entire time about how hot you look, how much she loves it when you soak her strap like this. you keen as she collapses into you with a long breath, groaning into the sticky skin of your shoulder.

you run your fingers through her hair.

"really?" you ask, after a few steadying breaths, "a few tight screws?"

vi chuckles, pulling back with a lopsided shrug.

"what? wasn't exactly a lie."

"yeah? you really wanna compare our sex lives to car maintenance?"

vi pulls out and you crinkle your nose at the sudden loss of feeling. she leans down to press a kiss to the side of your knee before reaching for a napkin to wipe you down.

"'s not that different -- good, timely maintenance gets you a good, healthy, long run with your car," she says, tossing the napkin into a bin in the corner before offering you a mug of water. you take a sip before holding the mug up to her lips. she lets you tip some into her mouth, licking her lips as she works the harness off from around her hips.

"thanks princess," she says, leaning forward for a kiss. you watch her pull her tanktop back on, shimmying back into her boxer shorts.

"oh, you're good for dinner at silco's right? at 7?"

you cock an eyebrow, "you mean the dinner you already agreed to for me on the phone right now? while we were fucking?"

vi shoots you a cheeky smile.

"so... 7?"

you roll your eyes, tossing your underwear at her with a huff.

"get me a new pair of panties."

vi laughs, snatching your crumpled up underwear from the air and considers them for a brief second before pressing them into the back pocket of her cargo shorts.

"nah, think i like you without them."

[ilovejasmine22]

BEEN TOO LONG.

pregnant!reader x sevika. | sevika makes you feel good after making u wait so long. ♡ (mdni ♡)

contains: soft!dom sevika, thigh riding, gentle praise kink, crying during sex, mentions of body image issues.

a/n: this could be read as a part 3 for sevika with a breeding kink. ♡ | 2 | but it’s not an official continuation.

Enjoy ♡

You hesitate in front of her. One knee on the couch cushion. One trembling hand braced against her chest.

You're already flushed from the heat of her gaze-hooded, half-lidded, lazily focused on you like she's watching something sacred.

"You sure?" you whisper, not even meeting her eyes. Your fingers are curled in the fabric of her tank top like it's your lifeline.

She nods once. "Only if you want it, mama."

That name—mama—it makes your thighs clench. You've hated your body these past few months. You've hated feeling bloated, heavy, alien in your own skin. But when she says it, it sounds like reverence. Like worship.

She helps you straddle her, one massive hand guiding your hips down until your soaked panties kiss the hard muscle of her thigh.

She doesn't press. Doesn't grind you down.

Just holds you there, warm and grounded, her other hand resting under your belly to steady the weight you've been carrying alone.

"I got you," she murmurs, low and calm, like the ocean at midnight. "Take your time."

You start slow. So slow. Rocking your hips in tiny, tentative motions.

It's not like before—you're softer, everything's more sensitive. Even the drag of her sweatpants against your panties has you gasping. It's not even friction—it's just... presence. Pressure. A reminder that someone sees you. Still wants you.

Your hands grip her shoulders, trembling.

Her voice is low and steady. "That's it, baby. Go nice and easy. Doesn't have to be pretty."

You shiver.

Your breath catches on a particularly good pass of her thigh against your clit, and you let out a soft, broken whine.

"Shit," Sevika whispers. "Make that sound again."

You do. Louder this time. Grinding a little harder now, the motions deeper, slower. The need building so gradually it aches.

Her hands never leave your body. One holding your hips in place. One splayed over your belly, thumb tracing slow circles while she kisses your jaw.

"You're doin' so good for me," she murmurs.

"Look at you. Didn't even know how bad you needed this, huh?"

You shake your head, eyes wet. "I missed this. Missed you."

Sevika leans in, her forehead pressed against yours, the tiniest smile playing on her lips.

"You didn't lose me," she says. "You never lost me, sweetheart."

Your hips stutter. You're close, but not in a rushing way—in that slow, soul-deep ache kind of way. You're so overwhelmed you don't even notice the tears until Sevika brushes them away with her knuckles.

"You gonna cum for me like this?" she whispers. "Just from ridin' my thigh? Look how good you're makin' yourself feel."

Your moans grow wetter, messier— punctuated by choked breaths and tiny gasps. Your hips are grinding in tighter circles now, Sevika flexing her thigh ever so slightly to meet you halfway.

"Come on, pretty thing," she murmurs.

"Take your time. I'll hold you through it."

You bury your face in her neck, gripping her tighter, thighs trembling.

You whisper it, barely audible through a cracked sob of a moan.

"Sev... it's been so long... I didn't know I needed this so bad. I missed feeling good.”

She hums softly and shifts just enough to wrap her arm tighter around your waist, cradling you like she's done this a hundred times.

"I know, baby," she murmurs, her lips brushing your hair. "I know. You've been holdin' it all in, huh?"

“Mhm.” 

You nod frantically against her skin, grinding down again with a tiny whimper you try to muffle in her neck.

Her hand slides up your spine, fingers soothing as she cups the back of your head.

"You're okay," she says. "You don't gotta be quiet, sweetheart. Let yourself feel it. You deserve this."

You let out another shaky gasp, hips rolling deeper now, and she lets you ride it—lets you chase what you've needed for months.

Her voice stays low and steady, grounding you through the flood.

"Let me take care of you, mama," she whispers. "I got you."

And then—

It hits you slow. Like honey. Like a wave you didn't see coming until you were already swallowed by it. Your hips seize up. Your breath catches. You grind through it, slow and needy, riding it out until you collapse against her chest with a soft cry, soaked through, body trembling from the release.

Sevika doesn't say a word. Just wraps her arms around you, holding you like she's afraid you'll float away. One hand under your belly. The other stroking your spine.

"You did perfect," she says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So fuckin' proud of you."

You fall asleep like that. In her lap. Skin flushed. Panties soaked. Her arms around you. Her voice in your ear. And a warmth in your chest that makes you feel like maybe—just maybe—you're still the same you she fell in love with.

this is so soft I might cry

criticism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

[ilovejasmine22]

. ݁₊ 🪶 . ݁˖ cowboy!sevika fucking you through an apology.

contains: age gap (reader is in their mid-20s, sevika is in her late 30s), brat taming, strap-on use, face grabbing, manhandling, strength kink, overstimulation, clit play, nipple play (kinda)

enjoy ♡

The door slams harder than she means it to. 

Boots thudding heavy.

Spurs clinking.

Dust still on her jeans from the barn, hair tied back with a loose black bandana, jaw tight and lips set.

"You done bein' a brat?" she asks, voice low and rough, like gravel and smoke.

Doesn't even wait for an answer before her hand's on your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek to tilt your face up.

"You wanna pout at me all day, fine. But now you're gonna lay there and take what you been beggin' for."

She doesn't undress.

You do.

Tugs you onto the bed like it's nothin', like you weigh nothing at all, like you're hers to manhandle.

Then she stands at the foot of the mattress, pulls her belt loose with a slow, rough drag of leather, and lets the clink echo.

God, her fingers are dirty. Grease—stained, rough. And she's got her strap already buckled low on her hips—thick and heavy and mean, glistening with lube.

She climbs over you with her boots still on, jeans halfway undone, teeth gritted like she's trying not to fuck you too hard.

Her hat's thrown on the dresser but her attitude is still on—ranch-hardened, sunbitten, mean.

You're already leaking. Legs shaking. Breath hot.

But Sevika just presses her palm flat to your stomach and holds you down.

"Gonna make you say it," she murmurs, not moving yet. Just grinding her strap slow against your soaked cunt, letting the pressure build until your thighs are quivering.

"Said you didn't need me. Said you were fine."

She lines herself up. One thick hand curling around your hip like she owns it.

"Let's see how fine you are with my cock this deep, sweetheart."

She pushes in with one long, slow stroke.

Doesn't stop even when you moan like you're gonna cry—just shushes you gently, wiping the tear from your cheek while her cock drags over every nerve-ending inside you.

"That's it. Breathe through it."

She kisses your neck.

"You take me so fuckin' good."

You can feel her belt buckle cold against your inner thigh. The weight of her cock inside you so deep you swear you're gonna see stars.

And she's still got her damn jeans halfway up her thighs.

Still got the scent of sweat and hay and musk clinging to her shirt.

She smells like outside. Like long days and rough hands and work.

And she's fucking you like you're her reward.

"Look at that."

She pulls out almost all the way, then snaps her hips forward again-slow and brutal, cock hitting you deep while her hand covers your mouth.

"Drippin' all over me and I haven't even started fuckin' you proper yet."

You're so full. So fucking full.

The rhythm she finds is slow and lethal. No mercy. No break. Just long, deep strokes and fingers brushing your nipples under your shirt.

She doesn't need to rush—she's got you.

Pinned. Whimpering.

All hers.

"You wanna be good now?"

She pulls your leg over her shoulder and starts fucking you deeper.

Meaner.

Thumb rubbing slow circles into your clit while your body arches off the bed.

"Then cum on my cock and quit makin' me teach you lessons like this."

And when you do—when your whole body shakes and your thighs twitch and your mouth goes slack beneath her hand—

She kisses your forehead and mutters:

"That's my girl. Now roll over. I'm not done with you yet."

[ilovejasmine22]

wait this is actually devastating because if arcane was on hbo max it would’ve definitely had at least 4 seasons and i know for a fact we would’ve seen sevika’s titties at least once while she was at the brothel

i think if i saw a sliver of sevika areola i woulda fainted and died