yomama-21

[yomama-21]

My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year. 

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room. 

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time. 

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t? 

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being. 

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast. 

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal. 

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t. 

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here. 

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face. 

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison. 

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles. 

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?” 

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt. 

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards. 

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet. 

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.” 

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right. 

Shit. 

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing. 

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?” 

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck. 

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer. 

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And- 

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips. 

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already. 

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy. 

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning. 

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh. 

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you. 

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans. 

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open. 

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it. 

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it. 

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.  

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours. 

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt. 

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that. 

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched. 

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked -  translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it. 

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly. 

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?” 

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy. 

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl. 

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big. 

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing. 

It made your mouth water. 

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it. 

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice. 

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt. 

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.  

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots. 

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest. 

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm. 

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else. 

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content. 

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-” 

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point. 

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close. 

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll. 

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said. 

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you. 

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to. 

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see. 

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip. 

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan. 

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That. 

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise. 

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him. 

Exactly how he’s  been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit. 

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words. 

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees. 

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches. 

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once. 

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling. 

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base. 

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna. 

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath. 

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t. 

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[yomama-21]

ʚɞ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ʚɞ

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞.

𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 & 𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒏𝒊

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

an incessant blaring sound interrupts your nighttime routine. at first, you assume its from the apartment building next to yours. but then the smell of smoke slowly infiltrates any crevice and vent it can seep through. the noises of people frantically exiting the building doesn’t quell the alarm. you feel horrible for thinking what a major inconvenience this is. half of your hair is set with curlers. you grab your purse, keys and phone and follow the crowd down the stairs safely.

once you’re in the night air, you thank whatever gods may exist, it wasn’t your building effected. firefighters flutter in and out of the apartment units sharing an alley with yours. the flames appear somewhat tamed. neighbors mindlessly chatter—speculating what could have caused the fire. EMTs already set up a barricade but it doesn’t stop human curiosity. folks pressing tightly on the wooden barricades and incessantly pestering cops, firefighters or EMTs for any update.

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

thirty minutes later, the flames have succumbed to the efforts of the firefighters. a lingering smell of smoke sits in the air. mud and water mix with the black ash on the building. you see familiar faces crying and holding each other. the firefighters did their best but half of the building got hit the hardest. guilt washes over you. here you felt inconvenienced by the alarm but people have lost most of their belongings and most likely have to start from scratch.

unexpectedly the crowd erupts with a thunderous clap and cheering. it takes no time to realize everyone is commending the firefighters for their hard work. you witness the civil servants peeling off their helmets one by one. it’s clear all of them are exhausted. then some women start dog whistling. with an arched eyebrow, you locate the firefighter causing all the chaos.

the woman stands over 6 feet. she already removed the top layer of the suit which dangles off one shoulder. the moonlight and street lights reflect off her brown skin glistening with sweat. you can hear the gulp of women, straight and queer, as the firefighter curls her fingers underneath her fitted and soaked white t-shirt. she brings the hem of her shirt to her face—wiping off sweat and lingering ash. the entirety of her abs are on display. without even straining you see a drop of sweat rolling down her stomach.

a few women start fanning themselves. you even witness one pushing her cleavage up for prominent display. you hear through the chaos someone announcing residents in your building are allowed to enter again. sighing your relief, you start following the crowd. someone grabs your elbow—trying to get your attention.

swiftly turning around, you’re met face to face with the firefighter causing the lustful gazes and audible desires. with the distance closed—you’re able to see the faded scars on her face and the beginning wrinkles on the corners of her eyes. something about her, her face, those intense grey eyes stirs familiarity in your core. she presents you with a crooked smile.

“don’t recognize me, stranger?” her voice emerges as if from the squashed flames themselves.

you narrow your eyes and let them inspect those features. her fluffy and long eyelashes. her silken black hair that frames her face. the richness of her skin tone provoking you to kiss every inch.

you gasp with recognition. “sevika?”

sevika lets out the tiniest chuckle and nods. her hand on your elbow remains. it sends warmth and comfort throughout your arm. now that you’ve placed the face—you cannot believe you did not connect the dots sooner. yes, she’s aged but she’s still sevika. maybe not your sevika but still the sevika you grew up with.

the same sevika who fiercely protected you and let you crawl into her bottom bunk. the same sevika who beat up the boys for touching you the wrong way. then wiping your tears away moments later. especially the same sevika that took you to the overlook and shared your first kiss with. your guardian angel you never stopped thinking about or hoping turned out okay.

“you’re a firefighter now?”

“well i’ve been one for ten years but yeah.” sevika hold on your elbow shifts, you almost cry, but she only moves her hand underneath it.

your eyes continue searching sevika’s. “i thought you might’ve moved away or…”

sevika knowingly crooks a smile. “or jail?” you cringe but sevika laughs. “yeah, well i came too close a few times. but must’ve had my own guardian angel or something because the last time i got arrested—the judge told me enough was enough. she sent me to some reform program. i ended up liking the firefighter gig so…permanently fighting fires.”

“i’m so proud of you, sev. really.”

“thanks, kid.” sevika takes one step back then inconspicuously checks you out. “maybe not a kid anymore. you’ve filled out well.” she reaches out with her free hand and lifts some hair away from your ears. “and you’ve grown into your ears.”

an instantaneous blush spreads on your cheeks and you swat sevika’s hand away. your fingers reach to situate your hair but sevika catches them. you watch as sevika brings your hand to her lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. the feel of those full lips sends signals all over your skin. it’s almost the same effect she unwillingly provoked on all those women. refraining from retracting your hand, you keep your eyes locked on sevika.

she only smiles. her lips spreading across your knuckles. dammit. sevika fully knows the effect she’s having on you. she drinks it in eagerly despite your limited reactions.

“you hurt or anything? you didn’t live in that building, right?”

you shake your head in response to both questions. sevika smiles again. “oh, good. not a damsel in distress anymore. i get off in an hour. you’ll still be up?”

blinking away your visible confusion, you think over her question. “um, probably, yeah? why?”

a laugh rumbles in sevika’s chest but it never escapes her lips. “because i wanna come over, pretty girl. it’s been so long. can you blame me for wanting to make up for lost time?”

“oh. no, i mean, yes.” you groan—feeling like that helpless teenager that always needed sevika around. “yes, you can come over. i’ll be up. im apartment 8C—ring the buzzer and i’ll come get you.”

sevika hums her acknowledgment then releases her hold from your hand and elbow. yet her touch doesn’t cease and she reaches for a few strands of hair. “it’s kinda unfair, ya know?”

“what’s unfair?”

“you’re outside in a robe and hair half done but still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

placing a kettle on the stove, you reach for two mugs and a container of all your special teas. sevika won’t know, but you never offer anyone your good teas. tonight feels special though. you can feel those grey eyes boring into your back. in the hour and a half window sevika allotted you—you showered, finished with the curlers in your hair, and found a pair of your cutest pajamas. the ruffles on the hem of the shorts barely grazed the crease meeting your butt and thighs. maybe overly ambitious?

when you had greeted sevika at the front door—you could tell her eyes didn’t know what to take in first. in sevika’s mind you were the picture of femininity. pink cotton pajamas hugging your curves sinfully. the cute little bow on the camisole teasing her eyes. she hadn’t expected her heart to momentarily stop at witnessing a fray strand you missed in your curler set. and the way you smelled? a mixture of strawberries and coconut with the faintest dash of something earthy.

sevika’s always found hyperfemininity attractive in the women she dated and slept with. but it was something about you…you wore it effortlessly and without second thought. it was apart of you.

she took in your apartment but eventually found herself staring at you as you prepared the tea.

“need any help, pretty girl?”

the words linger in the air before settling into your skin. when did she get so comfortable with petnames? the kettle whistles pulling you away from the lustful thoughts. “i’m good, thanks. do you still take a heap of sugar and milk in your tea?”

sevika barks out a laughter and you cannot help looking over your shoulder to witness the melodic sound. “i guess some things don’t change. yeah, you know what i like.”

squashing your nerves, you carefully pack some tea herbs into a tiny meshed infuser. once they’re packed—you steadily pour water over them in the mugs. normally you’d watch the tea steep, darkening the water, but instead you carry the mugs over to sevika. placing them down carefully on the thrifted mahogany coffee table, you rush back into the kitchen grabbing a pint of milk, brown sugar and some shortbread cookies.

there’s a sudden warmth that appears behind you. before you can properly investigate a calloused yet familiar hand gently rests on your waist.

“you sure you don’t need help with that…sugar?”

you’re hopeless against the drawl of sevika’s words. the end of her sentence hitting with a double entendres. you cannot place a time sevika’s petnamed you, sugar. she awakens another level of curiosity and arousal within you. if only you could see the look on sevika’s face. the knowing smirk of her affect on you. her pupils dilating and darkening in a way you’ve never been privy to.

you cannot help the racing of your heart. or closing your eyes. you don’t even notice you’re leaning back into sevika’s comfortable warmth until her hand shifts towards the front of your hip. as if she’s catching you and relaying the same message: i miss you.

“yes, you can carry the sugar, sev.” the words somehow manage to crawl out after the long pause between question.

sevika barely grunts her response before reaching underneath your arm. she purposely leans forward. her hips now pressed against your butt. you feel the encompassing safety of her broad shoulders brushing on your neck. you find yourself holding your breath until she pulls away. her prosthetic arm, this one different than the one from the fire earlier, smoothly retrieves the sugar jar.

then she steps back, as if, nothing happened and walks nonchalantly back to the couch. she might as well have whistled with the cockiness oozing off of her. you shakily inhale, one, two, three, then exhale, four five six. jitters remain nonetheless.

you find sevika on the love seat and taking up space at that. yes, you technically have room to sit. but you’d be forced to sit directly underneath her. despite the presence of another sofa, you are both aware that is not how this dance flows.

as sevika already suspected, you delicately lower yourself in the couch cushion next to her. your thighs have no space besides pressed tightly against hers. you cannot tell if you’re hallucinating or can actually feel the warmth through her jeans. not wanting to address the obvious silence you begin prepping the teas. a crap ton of sugar and then enough milk the color turns almost a sandy color.

sevika intently watches your actions. your fingers moving with remembered fluidity. she likes the color you polished your nails. finding herself wondering how they’d juxtapose against the pinkness of your spread pussy. sevika cannot deny the intense arousal building within her. it came the second she spotted your face. it dwelled and grew with her longing to hold you and whisper how much she missed you.

every second spent in your presence reminded sevika why she never lasted long in previous relationships. it took her some therapy and time alone to realize she unintentionally looked for you in every kiss, every hug, every fuck. no one ever came close to the calming water you poured on her raging fire. she could not leave the apartment without, at least, holding your face and kissing you tenderly then passionately.

“i learned to make chai. authentic chai.” your carefully plucked words barely relieves the tension.

sevika tips her head a little. “you did? why?”

you blush and hand sevika her tea. the answer feels rather obvious. “you said whenever we got outta there—you’d make me your amma’s chai.” you stop there. you cannot bring yourself to finish. but you know sevika can deduce and fill in the rest.

“did it help?”

“help with what?”

“help you feel closer to me.”

the words linger between the two of you. sevika’s expertly laid her intentions out with a few words. the bait flops in your hands—far too easy to deny or resist.

you turn your head—finally meeting sevika’s gaze for the first time since she entered the apartment. you expected another cocky smirk. instead you’re met with rounded eyes of vulnerability. they almost pool sevika’s desperation. even if you had planned on lying, on denying the obvious, everything vanished. reflected back at you was the same fifteen year old girl you fell in love with.

“no. no, it didn’t. nothing did.” you whisper out the words. almost believing if you speak the truth you’ll awaken from a beautiful dream.

sevika rests her mug on the coffee table. mindful of the coaster present. you focus on the action but within seconds her hand, no longer on the mug, cups your face. it emanates the lingering warmth from her mug. even without thinking, you reach for her prosthetic arm rested on her lap. you settle it on your other cheek. the balance of cold metal and warm flesh somehow feels symbolic. or maybe you’re searching for too much meaning in reuniting with an old friend…lover?

the magnetic pull draws you both closer until your lips are slotted together. moving in synchronization as if 15 years haven’t passed. as if you didn’t only share one kiss. all the longing and aching over pours into the kiss. your heart somehow thumps rapidly yet feels calm and steady within its cavity. when sevika tenderly swipes her tongue against your plump bottom lip—you know in that instance you’d do anything she wanted.

you graciously part your lips with a whimper. you feel sevika hesitate before she parts your lips by an inch.

“you always sound like that, pretty girl?” sevika barely murmurs the question on your lips.

too impatient to answer or decipher what sevika means, you take the inch of space back and unite your lips once again. sevika laughs into the kiss and indulges the neediness. she is just as desperate, maybe even more. her hands ever so slightly tighten their hold on your face. a tiny whimper escapes once again as sevika tangles her tongue with yours. she responds with a eager grumble of her own.

sevika, testing the waters, pretends to pull away. your lips, without hesitation, chase after hers. you both do this dance until sevika manages to guide you into her lap. any hesitancy dissolves. you are reunited with an old flame and you’re desperate to kindle it and let it burn and consume you. straddling sevika’s hips, panting into the kiss, sevika presses one hand on your lower back—keeping you firmly in place.

letting your body make the decisions, not wrapped in the cloud of lingering doubt, you nip on sevika’s lower lip. sucking flesh between your lips as your tongue strokes the inner softness of her lip. you relish the feeing of sevika’s hand gripping your back. the little groan she emits. her shifting underneath—as if you’re already getting her hot and bothered (you are).

her grip still firm on your lower back—sevika tips her head back on the couch. her eyes remain closed as she processes the weight of her actions and of you in her lap. your own lips tingle as you analyze sevika’s face. a smile stretches on yours as you notice her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. you’re already itching for another kiss. instead, patient as ever, your fingers work to remove the curlers from your hair. it’s no point in pretending you and sevika are not having sex tonight. curlers and sex don’t necessarily pair.

sevika eyes barely manage open as she feels the shift in her lap. she watches in intense fascination as you free your hair. there are varying curl patterns since some curlers where in place longer than others. your fingers delicate despite the slight panting on your chest. your nipples already pert in attention. you do not catch sevika’s gaze until you’re almost done.

she smiles without hesitation the second your eyes meet. her hands begin wandering up your sides. in the wake your camisole rides up with the action. goosebumps populate your skin. your fingers almost tremble pulling the last bobby pin. sevika drags you closer the second the final curl falls. your hair creates a curtain of privacy.

sevika rakes her eyes over the exposed skin and how your camisole rests underneath your breasts. “can i take this off, pretty girl?”

an immediate nod comes from you. “please, yes.”

sevika moans. she moans at your eagerness and how willing you are to trust her. the surprise only lasts momentarily as sevika’s peeling off the tiny fabric. you watch her lips fall apart with a flux of emotions on her face. once the shirt is freed from your hair—sevika opens her mouth to ask for permission.

your hand cradles the back of sevika’s neck and draw her closer to one nipple. “you don’t have to ask permission, sev. i want what you want.”

sevika moans again with the permission. you effortlessly taking control of what you want—turns sevika on more than she’s ready to admit. nonetheless her lips circle around your nipple. her tongue darts around the bud. it earns her the response of you bucking your hips and pushing her closer to your breast. she gladly obliges.

her lips suction your nipple with a little more pressure. a hand comes to cup the neglected breast. palming and kneading with expertise. her large hand encompasses in a way you don’t think any lover has before. her teeth carefully experiment with nibbling on your nipple. you whine in response.

your hips move on their own accord. the combined sensation of teeth, tongue, lips and her hands leaves you desperate and wanting. you relish in the feeling of her jean crotch providing the perfect friction to your needy grinding. sevika groans into your nipple once she connects the dots.

her lips move from your nipple. a string of saliva leaving a connection. she lifts her eyes to yours. a sound traps in your throat seeing the pure need in sevika’s eyes.

hushed and rushed words tumble from sevika’s lips. “i need to make you feel good, baby. please. please can i taste you?”

you are positive sevika’s never had such desperation in her words. because you know no one in their right mind could deny her. but with you…she’s uncertain. the years of yearning bubbling over into this precise moment. you capture her lips in response. trying to say; yes take everything, all you need and want, drink and fill yourself.

with grace of a ballerina—sevika turns the tides and she’s standing with you in her arms, bridal style. you don’t even have the opportunity to be thrown off guard. she moves around your apartment as if she’s walked in this space numerous times. sevika locates your room without instruction.

she lowers you on the bed like a delicate flower. you’re tempted to protest but you give her the grace. you both deserve a tender reunion. sevika hastily steps out of her jeans. she stands before you in her navy boxers and a black shirt. your breathing matches hers with built up tension and anticipation. sevika moves closer to the bed and you begin crawling backwards.

she catches your ankle, shaking her head. “not yet, baby.”

sevika kneels at the edge of the bed on the floor. understanding without her saying much, you position yourself where she placed you before. sevika nuzzles her cheek against the inside of your knee. your fingers find solace in her strands. your nails softly scratching at her scalp. with your soothing yet tingling touch sevika begins her journey of kisses up your thighs. interchangeably switching sides until her lips meet the hem of your shorts.

sevika’s eyes travel the length of your body and her lips spread into a smile as you lift your hips. chuckling lowly, sevika parts with enough space to remove your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. she loses her breathing at the sight of you bare before her. the tussles of hair on your mound travel down to your lips. sevika gently widens your thighs. her action reveals how drenched you are. she can hear the slick separating between your folds. her mouth salivates at the sight and sound.

her hands massage at your thighs eliciting a trembling moan from you. you whimper, looping one leg on sevika’s shoulder. digging the heel of your foot into her shoulder blade to draw her near.

“don’t make me beg, sev. come on…”

sevika groans and circles her arms around your thighs, tugging you closer off the edge of the bed. “i’m sorry, princess. i don’t mean to make you wait. let me fix that.”

she presses a chaste kiss on your clit. you’re about to admonish her for teasing but your words are caught in your throat. sevika roughly drags her tongue up the length of your cunt. she moans deeply as your taste floods her mouth. now paired with your scent, sevika knows she will never get enough. her fingers firmly grip into your thighs and she feasts.

her tongue expertly explores every single inch it can reach. she starts with the languid yet pressured licks. each lick causes you to buck into her mouth. too unaware you could potentially bust her upper lip. not that sevika cares either. she switches her methods and uses the tip of her tongue to tease circles on your clit. she basks in the heavy moan you release as she focuses on your clit. your hips move in faint circles meeting each stroke of her tongue. one hand remains in sevika’s hair—softly caressing her hair or on occasion tugging on the silk-like strands.

sevika whimpers into your cunt as you play with her hair. her whimpers vibrate on your clit in such a sensual way. it produces a high pitched whine that you’ve never heard from yourself. even sevika briefly paused to fully appreciate the noise that graced her ears. nonetheless she returns to worshiping your clit. as she sucks it between her pursed lips, her own hand snakes down into her boxers.

not at all surprised with the pool of her own arousal. her calloused fingers rub an immediate circle around her clit. she’s so wet and sensitive she can barely feel the roughness embedded on her fingertips. but that’s not the stimulation she’s seeking. the second sevika’s tongue dips inside your cunt—her two fingers push past her entrance. you and sevika simultaneously groan. sevika allows you the opportunity to arch off the bed and grind down on her tongue. the warm and wet muscle teasing that special, squishy spot inside of you. her own fingers knuckles deep inside herself.

sevika almost cries into your pussy with the overwhelming sensations. riding her own fingers while you ride her tongue. through the haze in her eyes sevika witnesses the beauty of you chasing your desires. she wants you to topple over on her tongue continuously. if she could, she’d put brush to canvas and honor this moment forever. it only instills in sevika she must never depart from your life again.

your fingers tug sevika’s hair. sevika replies with a whimper and somehow understands the frantic look in your eyes. her lips return to your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. she witnesses your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. her own hips speeding up in hopes of climaxing with you. sevika’s tongue dashes across your clit occasionally intent on seeing you lose control with the added stimulation.

“seeeev!” your back arches off the bed and your thighs squeeze her head in place.

those manicured nails sevika adores so much scrape over her scalp. she moans with the stinging sensation. her fingers make squelching noises as she works them rapidly. you’re too lost in the heights of your climax. unable to register sevika is fucking herself as her mouth sends black spots over your vision.

sevika, relentlessly, obliges after hearing a pleading whimper. her lips leave a departing kiss on your clit before pulling away. but sevika continues grinding on her fingers. she bites into your thigh as she chases her own release. it takes everything in you to prop up on your elbows. your eyes watch in widened excitement.

she catches your gaze and you forget how to breathe. the unadulterated need and yearning in those grey eyes set you off for another round. sevika seems to read your thoughts before they even form. she carefully retracts her fingers then climbs on the bed. sevika helps guide you towards the center of the mattress.

“you flexible, pretty girl?” sevika questions. her soaked fingers teasingly run through your folds.

“depends. why?”

sevika smiles too wide for it being such a loaded question. she spreads your legs wider then hovers a little above you. you instinctively press your hand into the shell of her lower back. urging the woman to apply more of her weight. sevika happily follows the non-verbal instruction. she sighs at the feeling of your body.

her intentions soon become clear as sevika presses her swollen and perturbed clit on your mound. you let out a shaky gasp at the sensation. sevika reaches underneath your knee and lifts your leg on her shoulder. a guttural moan escapes you from the unexpected stretch.

“fuck, i’m sorry, baby. too much? i can stop.” sevika is already attempting to lower the leg.

without hesitation you grab sevika’s wrist and shake your head. “no, please. i need to see you come. please…use me.”

sevika bucks her hips with the unexpected words you bestow on her. she leaves the leg on her shoulder. her works to find the perfect rhythm and fluidity to grind her clit down. she eventually settles on moving her hips up and down. it allows both your clits to feel stimulated when she drags down. her prosthetic fingers dig into your thighs as her hips work in momentum. once you’ve grown accustomed to sevika’s pacing—you lift your hips to meet her halfway.

you almost drool at the sight of sevika’s head thrown back in ecstasy. the rhythmic bumping of your clits. the sensitivity it invokes—one you’re bound to chase for the rest of your life. sevika lets out the tiniest mewl. it sounds so unlike her, you almost question, if it came from you. yet her eyes are half hooded and eyebrows scrunched as if in concentration. a thin layer of sweat shines on her face. she’s majestic.

sevika attempts to focus her gaze on you. a pleading tone laced into her words. “baby…baby…gonna…pl-please…”

you refrain from the shit eating grin wanting to overtake your face. “asking me to come, sevi-baby?”

biting her lip, sevika nods shamelessly, needing the permission. craving the permission from her most special girl. “please…”

“you’re perfect, sevika. i’ve missed you. go ahead, beautiful. come for me. let me see you…”

sevika turns her head into the propped leg on her shoulder and messily kisses the tender flesh. you continue meeting her hips despite sevika forgoing any sort of rhythmic pacing. she whispers incoherent love rambles and gratitude. a moan trapped in sevika’s throat gives away her platitude. she slams her hips into you, as if, coming inside of you.

her body tenses above you right before moans bubble from her lips. eventually her tension alleviates to waves of trembling. you remove your leg from her shoulder and instantly sevika collapses atop of you. her legs slotted with yours. you feel just how wet this ordeal made her.

sevika nuzzles her nose into neck. your fingers trace nonsensical shapes over her back. overtime your hearts sync as you listen to each others breathing.

“my pretty girl…it’ll be until death do us part before we are separated again.” sevika whispers the promise into your neck.

an exhausted yet satiated smile tickles your cheeks. “is that a marriage proposal, sevika?”

sevika cheekily nips the sensitive skin of your neck. “and a promise, sugar.”

[yomama-21]

— mess around (part two)

part one

synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing

pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader

warnings: cheating, dom!sev, sub!reader, reader is bolder in this one, face sitting, fingering, finger sucking, size kink, back shots, breeding kink, rougher than part one(!), light bondage, sevika is a bit meaner in this one but not outside of sex, new pet names (!!!!), choking, thigh riding, cum plug

a/n: I want to make it very clear that even though pregnancy is mentioned several times, r will never get pregnant with an unwanted child or with the husband figure, it's solely for plot !

wc: 4.4k

collaboration: my biggest love and thank you to @sevsgiirl for literally leading me through this and giving me all the ideas and also reading my rough drafts lol! 🙏🙏

Sevika was obscenely tired. This was her third week running only getting two hours of sleep, tossing and turning, unable to fall back into sleep. When she did sleep, it was short and light, not sufficient enough. It was eating her alive.

There were a number of reasons - her dog had been sick for days, the horses needed a different feed schedule, she briefly had to travel up North to visit relatives, changing her time zone. But most of all, and most obviously, you.

Everything about you. Your eyes, your hips, your smell. The way your hair flicked when you walked, your smile when you greeted the neighbors, the way you knew something about everyone. You were the complete opposite of her, and it was driving her mad.

She hated you. Hated your perfection, and the blush in your cheeks. She hated the way you dressed, pretty sundresses that hardly past mid thigh, bows, and those fuck ass boots. She hated you because she needed you.

She was desperate to get you a real pair of boots, ones that weren't from some northern shop impersonating southern culture. She needed to show you off and parade you around, have you sit on her lap at the bar with her hat on while she played poker, and tell everyone that you were hers.

But that wasn't ever going to happen. You were never going to be hers, divorce was too much of a hassle for a woman like you, who probably wanted a million things she couldn't give you.

-

“Babe, can you come here?” Your husband called you from the kitchen. You were perched on your bed, folding the week's laundry. You stood and made your way to the kitchen, stomach twisting. Ever since your night with Sevika, your husband wanting to speak to you worried you. There's no way he found out. But what if he did?

“What's up, honey?” He beckoned you to sit down across from him at the small table, and you did. He had papers in his hand, messy scribbles covering the page.

“I wanted to have a serious conversation about kids,” he paused for a moment while his words sank in, “I asked you to stay home so that we could start our family, but you keep declining to actually start it. I can't keep you home like this if you aren't going to do anything.” You sighed.

You knew this was coming - every time he brought it up, you shut it down. Every time you slept together you had him wear protection, or you made sure you had taken the pill that morning. You couldn't identify why you didn't want to have children with him at the moment, but the feeling was there, and it was strong.

“I'm just not ready yet,” you insisted, “if you want me to go to work I can, but I do quite a bit around the house. Just because we don't have children yet doesn't mean that my work is diminished.” You stood your ground, annoyed at the constant assumption that you didn't do anything.

“Babe,” he sighed angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose while he formulated what to say, “every time we talk about this you say you're not ready. We've been married for three years, when will you be ready?” You shrugged, embarrassment getting the best of you. “You only have so many years to have kids. I can’t sit around and waste them while you figure out if you’re ready or not.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, especially because you knew them to be true. You got into this relationship and eventually this marriage knowing his intention with children, and up until recently, you thought you shared that intention. But the longer you thought about bearing his children, the more displeasing the thought became.

“We can start trying, then. But not until next week, come July.” If you had to do it, you would at least have it when you wanted to. Your husband grinned, rising from the table to give you a hug, and press a kiss to your head.

“I’m glad it’s time,” you put on your best fake smile, “I’m headed to bed. Mind cleaning up?” He waved towards the dinner dishes as he walked towards the bedroom. “See you tomorrow, my love.”

You sat in your seat at the table for a long time, simply looking at it. Sevika’s words from the night she had dinner rang in your mind like a screeching alarm - I’m a capable woman, babygirl. I can clean my own plate. She wanted to help, even after working all day. She chose to help.

Before you could choose the wiser, you were shooting up from your seat and clearing the dishes into the sink. You washed them quickly, not bothering to scrub very hard before tossing a robe over your shoulders and slipping on some shoes. Quietly, trying not to wake your husband, you peeled open the door and slipped it shut, sneaking down the steps carefully. You knew where they creaked now, you had lived here long enough for that.

There was a clunking sound and loud groan when you knocked on her door. Part of you hoped that, if you knocked softly enough, she wouldn’t hear it, or that she would be asleep. The other part of you begged to see her, even though it wasn’t right. Something about her drew you in, wrong or right.

The door flew open, and there stood Sevika in all her glory. Except, she didn’t look as if she felt glorious. There were eye bags under her eyes that made it look as if she hadn’t slept in a week, and her face was angry. Her downturned lips only frowned further at the sight of you, and you felt small, beginning to question your decision.

She must’ve noticed. Her face softened, still angry, but not as angry as before. She simply looked at you, waiting for something. “Hi Sev,” you whispered, meekly. “I don’t really know why I’m here.” You looked over your shoulder, gazing at the home that was calling you back, the husband that was asleep in the bed you shared.

“I can’t help you with that, sugar.” She said, gruffly. “When you know what you want, come and find me.” She went to close the door, but on instinct, your hand flew out to stop it.

“Can I come in?” She looked at you for a moment longer, eyes sullen and mind begging to send you back home. But she opened the door nonetheless, allowing you to step in. You had never been in Sevika’s home, but it looked just like you would think. Clean, homey, a little boring. Lots of pictures of people you didn’t recognize, aside from the ones you met at the bar.

“What can I do ya for, angel?” The name made you breathless. It effortlessly brought you back to when she had you riding her, calling you angel.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” You moved through her house slowly, taking a spot in the living room. It felt embarrassing, inviting yourself in like this, late. “Unless you’re sleeping. I understand if I woke you.” She punched out a laugh.

“I ain’t slept in weeks,” she plopped down across from you, the L shaped couch making it easy to see her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Husband doin’ you wrong?” You considered whether you should answer yes.

“We’re going to start trying for a baby,” you told her, cringing at the sentence. You could see her face drop and her eyes change, but she was quick to recover. “I’m not sure I want to.” Your gaze fell to your hands as you crossed your ankles.

“Want to try, or want to have a baby?” She clarified, brows knit as she leaned back and fell into her manspread once again.

“I guess both,” you sighed, “I don’t know if I’m ready to have a baby with him, and the trying part..” you trailed off, considering your options as to how to phrase what you wanted to convey. “When we.. did what we did, it was much more fun than when my husband and I sleep together,” a proud smirk found Sevika’s lips. “He’s very boring, he doesn’t like to try things. In out, in out.” You made a gesture with your hands and she laughed. “He’s always on top of me, it never really changes. I don’t like it.”

Sevika hummed. There were so many ways she could take this. “You don’t say,” her accent was thick this time of night. It made you wonder what she was thinking about. “So you want somethin’ rougher?” You nodded slowly, not 100% sure what ‘rougher’ meant. “Tell me, sugar, has anyone ever bent you over?”

Your eyes blew, and your lips parted. Sevika’s clit started to beat at the expression. It was perfect, she longed to frame it. “No, I don’t believe so.” She tapped her thigh, looking at you with low eyes.

“Come,” she instructed, and for some reason, you stood, and found placement on her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips in a tighter grip than the one she had the first time you were like this with her. There was something different in her now. “Tell me what you want. What he isn’t giving you.”

You thought for a moment. “I’ve always thought about having my hands bound,” you told her, quietly. You let out a soft gasp as she used her tight grip on your hips to roll them forward slowly. “I don’t know how that would work, but I’ve wondered. Sometimes I think about my throat..” Once again you trailed off, unable to formulate the right thing.

“What about your throat, darlin’?” Sevika pushed, bringing you down on her thigh again.

“Having it squeezed, being choked in a sense.” Sevika let out a soft ‘mhm’, reaching up and cupping your face, swiping her thumb along your bottom lip before her hand fell to your throat, gently wrapping around your windpipe. Your hands rushed to her wrist as she tightened her grip, forcing your head up. She held you there, large hand wrapped tightly around your throat while her mech hand worked with your hips.

The fuzzier your brain got, the better the muscle of her thigh felt under you. Sevika rocked you and rocked you until you were finding your own pace, forcing your cunt down onto her thigh in rapid, uncoordinated motions. You were so close, stomach twisting as you gasped for air under Sevika’s hand, just for her to hold you down and restrict your movements. “Sevy,” you whined, trying to push and get to your finish.

“No baby,” she hushed. “Y’r gon’ have to wait. You can do that, can’tcha?” With a huff you nodded, wondering how long you’d have to wait. What did she even mean by ‘wait’? Sevika lifted you off her lap and stood you up, standing with you and pressing a hand into your back, pushing you until you began walking.

Her bedroom was lovely. She had a large bed, probably because she was so tall. The sheets were a dark shade of purple and made, creating a clean look for the already clean room. Once you got in the room she shut and locked the door, as if anyone else would walk in. “Sit. I’m gonna get some things, sugar. I’ll be right back.” You sat on the edge of her bed and watched her move around, first grabbing a box from a drawer and then leaving, returning shortly after with a bunched up rope.

“What’s all of that?” You asked, trying to catch a glimpse of what she had aside from the rope. God, of course she had rope. She was a rancher after all, she probably took it from the stables. She sat her things down on her nightstand next to her bed, turning to you.

“Nothin’ you needa worry your pretty little head about, sweetheart.” Sevika came to you and leaned down, tilting your chin to her and capturing your lips in a kiss. It grew from a chaste kiss to a feverous one quickly, with Sevika bearing down on you, pushing her weight into you, making you hers, just for tonight. She pulled away from you, climbing into and laying back on the bed. “Get up and strip for me, peach.”

“What if I want you to undress me?” You pouted. It felt strange, acting like this. You wanted her hands on you, you didn’t want to bother doing it yourself. That’s what you were here for. Not having to do things yourself like you did with your husband.

“You said you didn’t want borin’,” she said, nonchalantly, as she laid back and placed her human arm behind her head, muscles flexing in the best way possible to keep her upright. “So get up and strip.” Huffing, you did as told.

You would never have looked at the situation and called it something as vulgar as a strip tease, but the slowness of you stripping yourself and the way Sevika’s eyes fell upon your body as you did made the thought cross your mind. You were slow to pull your pajama top up, slow to slide your pajama shorts down your thighs, slow to rid yourself of your panties. God, she could come off the sight of it.

Once you were naked, she beckoned you over with her mech hand, having you sit in her lap. “You look so damn pretty like this, all naked in my lap.” She felt as if this was her first time having a woman in her lap. She didn’t know where to start, all of her favorite things were before her, yearning to be touched and pulled and sucked.

She leaned into your neck, sucking the skin there briefly before traveling down your body. She caught your nipple in her mouth, and by some miracle, you could’ve sworn it felt better than the first time. Maybe it was because, in her lap, you had something to grind down against when her teeth clashed over the sensitive spot in your nipple, and when she pushed her tongue up into the spot after nipping it.

“Sevika,” you moaned, head thrown back as she did her best work on your tits. Fuck, your tits. She barely thought about them the first time, but now? Now. She got to see them in all their glory, nipples perky and waiting, so fucking ready for her. She didn’t even bother with her mech arm, she needed to feel you. Feel the way your nipple hardened when she rolled it between her fingers and feel the way you gasped and ground down on her every time she made you feel good.

She made you feel good. Nobody else. Only her.

She switched tits, and she couldn’t resist rutting up into you when a string of drool dripped from your boob. She didn’t even realize she was sucking enough that drool could fucking drip from you nipple, but it was a sight from God nonetheless.

She took much longer on your tits this night than she had the previous night you spent together, and it was lovely. But, to your humiliation, you had completely soaked through her pajama pants. The material was thin, but it was sopping from your grinding and dripping. She could feel it on her leg, and the feeling was driving her up the wall.

Sevika didn’t find herself begging very often, especially not at the mercy of a woman she had in bed, but when her eyes fell between your wet nipples and the patch on her thigh, she couldn’t find herself doing anything but. “Please ride my face, sweet thing, need y’on my face.” Her hands rested on your thighs in a tight hold.

You sat up, going up and up until your cunt rested over her nose, and your thighs found purchase on either side of her head. She brought her hands to your hips and pulled, dragging you down onto her mouth. You were quick to learn that sitting on Sevika’s face was the best feeling you’d felt at this point in your life.

However, you were also quick to learn that her nose had more purpose than just fitting her face and breathing. Your clit found purpose on her nose while you rode her tongue, so much so that it made the experience that much better. You must’ve looked like a fucking slut the way you were humping her face, but the feeling of her flattening her tongue and letting you take control was one that you never wanted to escape.

Your orgasm hit you like a punch, making you double over on her face. With ease, Sevika lifted you off her face and pinned you to the bed by your lips, licking you up and making your legs shake around her head. “Sevy, it’s too much,” you whined, but she didn’t care to listen. Her middle finger was pushing against your entrance no matter how much you whimpered and moaned, finding solace in your pussy as she fucked you again.

Her pace was ruthless, fucking you with two of her fingers and arching them into the best spot inside you. You were gripping the sheets, arching your back, doing anything you could to get away from her relentless abuse of your cunt, but she was stronger than you, and you loved it.

Sevika loved it too. She loved the way that, if she wanted to, she could get you to do anything she wanted. You were easy to hold down, easy to pick up and throw around the room, she loved being bigger than you. It drove her mad, the way you looked next to her, or under her, or better yet, on top. She simply couldn’t get enough.

“We’re gon’ try somethin’ new, peach,” she kissed your pelvis, overtop where her fingers were still logged inside you. “I’m gonna stretch you out, make you all good and ready for my dick.” The words hardly registered in your head before a third finger was probing in your entrance. And it hurt. Three of her large fingers were wider than anything you had taken before, and it made you wonder how wide her strap was if her fingers were stretching you this much.

“Vika it hurts,” you cried, and she paused, letting you adjust to the feeling before pushing more in you. She adored the view, the way your pussy gaped and pulled her in. With little further struggle, all three fingers were knuckle-deep in you, and you were clenching tightly around them.

“That’s my pretty girl,” her voice was hoarse, watching you take her. If this was this good, she couldn’t imagine what her strap would look like bottomed out in you, greedy pussy sucking her in. She fucked your cunt slowly, building up your orgasm with each pump, until you were on the brink, and once you were there, she attached her lips to your clit and sucked, pulling everything she could out of you.

You came again with a shriek, overstimulation getting to the best of you. She had you coming for maybe a full minute, getting everything she could out of you before stuffing her fingers in your mouth. You hoped this would become a routine - her fucking you then making you suck your cum off her fingers. The way she looked at you was irreplaceable.

When she was finished, she was giving you a whole new set of instructions. “On your knees, face the headboard.” You did as told, waiting patiently as she trifled through her things. You felt the bed dip and her body take position behind you. “Gimme y’r hands, bunny.” The new nickname had you reeling.

You placed your hands behind your back and she gripped them both in her mechanical hand, and soon after, you felt the rough material of rope lacing your skin. She pulled tight, letting the scratchy material dig into your skin. “Be good, or I’ll have you comin’ till you can’t fucking think.” She whispered in your ear, placing a small kiss below your ear before pushing you forward and bending you over.

With a squeal, you went cheek first into the pillows, ass up. Sevika pressed her mech hand into the arch in your back, pushing down and down until you were arching up as much as you could. Sevika smirked, not that you could see. You looked so pretty like this. Your pussy was drenched, waiting for her dick. She swiped two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing her strap with it, before lining her tip up with your entrance.

You whimpered when she pushed into you, the feeling different than her fingers. It was different than anything you’d felt - the rubber wasn’t warm like when you got fucked by your husband, obviously, and as she bottomed out, it was insatiably better than any way your husband had fucked you.

Maybe her strap was longer, or maybe it was the position she had you in, but the stretch of your cunt and the feeling of her being in you made your head spin. She pressed a firm hand into your shoulderblades as she began to work her hips, fucking you gently at first. She couldn’t watch anything but the sight of her strap disappearing fully in you, and it was growing harder and harder each breathing minute to restrain herself from fucking you as roughly as she could.

Really, there was no luck for her the minute your little uh, uh uh’s started, matching each thrust as the air got punched out of you. She grabbed your hip roughly and fucked into you harder, the skin of her thighs slapping loudly against your ass as her pace quickened.

“Fuck baby, y’r so good, such a good pussy.” She groaned, base of the harness fucking against her clit in just the right place. Her pace only got faster, and you were practically crying to god. It was no less than the best thing you'd felt in your life.

“Vika,” you moaned, dragging out the ‘a’ while her pace grew restless. She needed your pussy. It was like she was high out of her mind, addicted to your body and your cunt. “Vika, Vika, oh, daddy!” Her hips came to a stuttered stop.

Before you could apologize, her mech hand was wrapping tightly around the back of your neck and pulling you up off the bed, against her chest. She continued her original pace, the new angle hitting even better than before. “You call y’r husband that, sweetheart?” She groaned.

“No,” you whined, and she grabbed the rope, pulling you into a deeper arch against her. “Just you, Vika.” Her head fell into the crook of your neck with a deep groan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she pushed you back down, reaching around and rubbing your clit with her human hand. Her pace and the clit stimulation had your stomach twisting. “Wanna put a baby in you,” she moaned before she could think. The conversation you guys had early resurrected in her brain, and the thought of fucking a baby into you, just the thought. Fuck, she could've come on sight.

“Please,” you whined, high pitched and fucking disgusting. “Put a baby in me Vika,” she was going to fucking explode. Her hand found your throat again, leaning over you and squeezing as she fucked you as deep as she could. You were so fucking close, the feeling almost overwhelming.

“Gon’ make you a mama, peach,” the idea crawled into her mind and she knew it would never leave. Fucking you pregnant with her baby. If she could, she would never stop. “Fuck,” her moan was much higher pitched than any of her others, and you could tell she was growing just as close as you were, “take it, take it, take it,” she moaned in between thrusts, hand only tightening around your neck. “Fucking take it, nghh,”

You came at the same time, but you could barely keep yourself from coming again when she reached down and squeezed, filling you up and leaving you spent. You moaned again, rocking back into her.

She pulled out slowly, letting you adjust to being without her as your cunt drooled. You went to move and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “Stay.” She commanded, and you did.

It was truly a humiliating position. You were ass up, drooling like a fool while her cum dripped from your cunt. When she came back, she had a toy, and she wasted no time pressing it into you. “Keep this in ya’ till you get home, y’hear me? Need you full of my cum, bunny.”

She unraveled your hands and you rolled over, the plug shifting in you just enough to roll against your sensitive g-spot. “How'd you like that, pretty? Rough enough for my girl?” You watched as she stripped herself of her strap and put on a clean pair of purple boxers.

You simply hummed, shifting in her bed and rolling onto her pillows. “I like you a lot, Sev.” You mumbled, fuzzy, fucked out brain speaking before registering. “Wanna keep coming over.”

Sevika sighed. “Wish you could, sugar plum.” She came to you and rubbed your thighs. “But for now, you oughta get home. Y’r husband's waitin’,” you groaned, shutting your eyes tightly. “‘m sorry, angel.” You sat up, letting her bring your clothes to you.

“Where are my panties?” You asked with a pout as you trifled through the mound of clothes she presented you with.

She pressed a kiss into your forehead, but you could feel her smirk under it. “I’m keepin’ those, peach.” You giggled, slipping your top over you and standing to slip your shorts up. “You best do what I say ‘nd keep that in you.” Her tone was low as she watched you dress from her relaxed position on the bed.

“I will,” you promised, reaching over and placing a finger kiss on her lips. “Wish you could watch me drip, though.” You pouted.

“Don't say shit like that,” she growled, “or I'll have you bent over again.” You shrugged, smirk painting your lips.

“Bye Sevy,” you said quietly as you slipped on your shoes and robe. “I'll see you.” She sent you a short goodbye and you were leaving her home, traveling back across the ride and into your house.

What a life, you thought. You spent the time before you fell asleep thinking about what life would be like with Sevika. Having Sevika’s babies, walking down the aisle to Sevika. And boy, it was good to think about.

taglist: @sevsgiirl @chaosisclassy @ilovesevika88 @2hiigh2cry @glass-apothecary @zthebean27 @sli-v3r @carotenoidstereo @hbwrelic @savedforlaterr @sunflowerwinds @megamultifandomtrashposts @thatsmadiculous @thehoneybeesting @moodient @jinxvex @lez-zuha @sookaihrts @belovedisappointment @rereanduselessbird @sksksscarlet @coneyislandhorrorqueen @prwttiestbunny @ghostlylittlemoths @half-of-a-gay @aiden-slayyyys @womenlover360 @luphelia @maximoff-jp @losernb @dayfeelinglighter @powderpinkandsweeet @gumboug @andyslovingwife @hello222things @ayooooohush @yoursimhannah @yesplstodaysatan @purplehazzes @xblinkx2 @mistershotz @lilithyys @abbyanderswife @stmvivs @theoreticalfreak @deliciouslydeviantsatan @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @misswannadieqwq @wingedhallows

[yomama-21]

ok since the people are asking for a sequel to this fic... i must deliver 🫡

crawling back to you

content warning(s): angst - buT THERES A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR

"crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when you've had a few? 'cause i always do maybe i'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new."

~~~

Sevika catches you halfway back to the apartment. You are bathed in the neon light of the sign of the Last Drop several steps ahead, making you feel like a hologram. That might have been all you were to Sevika. A hologram. Something pleasant to look at, not tempting enough to touch.

“Baby,” she says, “let me explain.” 

She’s not even out of breath. Your world is falling apart and she probably just decided to walk leisurely after you, as if you barely mattered more than just another one of her girls. 

You avoid her gaze. “I thought you were busy tonight.” 

“I am,” she snaps. “This is ridiculous.” 

You’re silent.

“Did you actually think I was going to Babette's every night? You think I’d lie to you that way?” 

“I don't know,” you hiss. “Would you?” 

You know people are overhearing the two of you, but your anger bubbles over like a boiling vat of undiluted Shimmer. Sevika glares down at you, and you feel a twist in your heart. This is the end of everything. Even though she’s the one at fault, she’s the one with the records in Babette’s and not you, you feel like you’re the one pulling all the wrong strings. 

Your question hurts her more than she would ever let on. Of all the people who’d accuse her of lying, she never thought the dagger would be driven home by you. She wants to tell you she’s sorry, that she doesn’t know why she went into the arms of a stranger rather than risk being vulnerable to you. She wants to tell you all she was trying to do was protect you from her. She wants to ask: if she showed you the cracks in her skin where she’d broken and put herself together again, would you still stay?

But she can’t, because now there’s a wall of ice between you and you are already turning away. This time, she doesn’t follow. 

When she comes home late that night, the apartment is empty. 

~~~

You have found a small, run-down inn where the rats skitter beneath the floorboards and the water doesn’t run half the time, and you’ve sworn every single person you know to secrecy regarding your whereabouts. Every day that goes by feels heavier without Sevika. 

You smoke Shimmer vaporizers to escape the lonely silence of the room, you find work in a scrap metal shop and spend every waking minute of the day trying not to miss her. Trying not to fall into that endless pit of remorse. Go back, go back, get the fuck back and apologize. She was a mess when you met her. You know she can’t live without you. You’re terrified she might do something dangerous and reckless to herself, that she might hurt herself or worse. You find yourself wondering at night if she had eaten dinner or if she had just gone to sleep after a smoke and a shot of whiskey. You have nightmares of seeing her dead at your feet. 

One night it rains like Zaun has never seen before. It’s like the sky has opened up like a wailing mouth, or a gaping wound. Torrents of rainwater rush between buildings and submerge basements. It’s a night no one in their right mind would ever bother going out in. 

So of course that’s the night you hear the banging on your door. 

You open it, a broken bottle in hand, ready for a threat. You think it could be the manager, a sneaking thief who stealthily raises the price of the rooms with each passing week. 

Instead you see Sevika. 

Her prosthetic arm is detached and she isn’t wearing her cloak. Her hair is plastered wetly against her face. Her clothes are drenched. 

Your first thought: is she out of her mind?

Your second: oh my gods. She’s lost her mind.

“How did you know I was here?” You demand loudly. “Are you trying to catch your death?” 

The second part of the sentence comes out as instinct, and you’re embarrassed but it’s too late. Her brows were knit together like thunderclouds, but her expression softens slightly when she hears the concern in your voice. She had been preparing herself for anything. She was convinced you had already found someone new, and were living with them. Now there’s hope. You might still care about her. 

“Get the fuck in here,” you snap, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the room as if she’s a misbehaving child. You yank the moth-eaten sheets off the bed and throw them around her shoulders. “Are you drunk? Why aren’t you saying anything?” 

Fear pierces through your irritation. Has something happened? Is she sick? Is she running from something?

Sevika looks down at you, watching wordlessly as you try to rub the water off her skin. When you let go of her, she lets the sheets fall to the floor. 

You throw your hands up helplessly. “What are you doing here? Who told you I was here?” 

“You think I needed a gingerbread trail to find you?” 

You fall quiet, cursing yourself inwardly. Sevika probably knew where you were since the day you left. 

You know why she’s here. You can see it in her eyes, where all her unspoken emotions betray her. But she can’t translate them into words. She can’t say the words you need to hear. 

You sit down on the bed with a heavy sigh. The room is silent but for the sound of dripping water. Finally you speak. 

“Babette says you only went there once.” You look at her. “Why?” 

She looks down. “I was drunk.” 

“You gonna use that excuse every time from now on?”

“No,” she says sharply. “I thought—I thought I didn’t have you anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She shakes her head, frustrated. “I don’t know. I don’t know, I just—I—” 

She comes forward suddenly, and you instinctively draw back, thinking she might hit something. There’s a desperate look in her face that you’ve never seen before. But she doesn’t raise her hand. She kneels on the floor in front of you. 

“Sevika, what—?”

“Take me back,” she pleads, her voice rough. “I swear it’ll never happen again, so—take me back.” 

You try to stay angry. You try to push her away. But when you look in her dark grey eyes and see the tears standing on the lashes, you find you can’t do either. You feel the heat of her body against your knees, and as you slowly remove the string tying her hair and run your fingers through the wet strands you realize with a pang just how badly you missed her. 

Sevika gives a sigh and lays her head down in your lap. 

“You’re not entirely forgiven yet,” you tell her. 

“I know,” she says, her voice muffled. 

It’s as close as she’ll ever come to saying she’s sorry. You think it’s not a bad start. 

~~~

note: your honor she is just a sad wet puppy in the rain and has done nothing wrong in her life ever 😭🙏

~~~

taglist~

@notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @ 00valentina-writes00  @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @lez-zuha @mascdom @tiyawnyana  

[yomama-21]

No because listen-

[yomama-21]

Doomed by the narrative but make it pink :3

[yomama-21]

!!TW BLOOD!!

Wanted to finish this animation for halloween but oh well Huge thanks to my classmate David Rhombus on youtube for helping me get started on After Effects Enjoy

[yomama-21]

NECK SMOOCH

these two make me want to EXPLODE

[yomama-21]

wip comic based off a tumblr post i saw the other day

[yomama-21]

Very normal about how much I like this old guy

[yomama-21]

billford animatic i made to the song 'confrontation'! ^^

[yomama-21]

does anyone else have the headcanon that the level of control we see stan having over his mindscape (stan being able to talk to dipper in a memory, stan being able to make his memories into a giant labyrinth and seemingly able to perfectly hide most of the ford memories from everyone else) is, like, exclusive to him?

of course ford would know how to control and shape his own mindscape thanks to previous coaching from his Muse, but, like, stan has had to live a billion lives as fake identities. i headcanon that the mental discipline required to keep his story straight that many times allowed him to build a really thorough and hard-to-navigate mindscape, as well as suppress it all near-instantly in weirdmageddon 3 in order to trick bill

all this to say. i think if you went in soos or wendy’s mindscape and tried to do the same thing dipper did by talking to their memories, their memories would probably start screaming hysterically about being told they’re a memory and the gang would realize that stan is an outlier.

[yomama-21]

whaddya think of the mystery trio?

I LOVE!!!!!

[yomama-21]

Young Stanley is killing me

[yomama-21]

I want to hug him so bad

[yomama-21]

Physically? I am sitting in my bedroom. Mentally? Spiritually? I AM DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!! THESE TWO HAVE KILLED ME!!!!

(Another drawing! This was originally attempt #1 at drawing stan, and then fiddleford just showed up. Kinda feels like them five minutes after the above acting like nothing happened though, so it works sdjkgkjfshj)

[yomama-21]

This has to be an AU already right? I’ve never seen it. I’m doing it. My city now

The angst potential alone haunts me. How long do you think he waited for Ford?? When did it start to sink in that nobody was coming to save him, that nobody would miss him? Would anybody even want him back? How long did it take for his anger, his heartbreak, his grief to turn into acceptance and a belief that this was divine retribution? How long did he work, how many jobs did he take, how much wealth did he accrue, how many brushes with death did he have until he believed he’d “earned” the right to go home and see his brother?? Many such questions. I need to go deeper