"It's frustrating, Yuki." You pinch the bridge of your nose, lifting your head back to her. "I just... NO, Yuki, stop that!"

Your little bastard of a girlfriend is already tugging on her top, springing her heavy tits free.

"YUKI, THIS IS SERIOUS," you scream, covering your eyes immediately.

"If it's that serious you should be able to look at me like this, you freak!"

She knows you too damn well, she knows how much you love her perfect and perky boobs. You always have them in your mouth, in your hands, they're your own stress toy! And Yuki knows you can't have a conversation with her when you can see her tits. Your mind gets lost in them, it's not your fault that your girlfriend has the most beautiful breasts you've ever witnessed.

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you! You cannot pull your tits out every time we fight!" you tell her and you feel how she approaches you. "No! YUKI, DON'T!"

But she's already tugging your free hand to her chest and oh. Her nipples are already hard and she's a little sweaty on the underside. Great, now you want to lick the sweat off your girlfriend's boobs.

"Yuki..." you whine, pouting and already feeling less angry.

"You can put your hand down, doll."

"It's not fair..."

But you lower your hand slowly in defeat, your fingers brushing against the warm, soft skin of Yuki's chest. God, her tits are just… perfect. Those pretty pink nipples that always get so hard for you. You can't help but stare, your cheeks burning as you cup one gently, feeling its weight in your palm.

"They're so beautiful," you mumble, your voice all whiny and soft now.

She lets out a little laugh, stepping closer so her body presses against yours. Her hand covers yours, guiding you to squeeze a bit harder. "They're all yours to touch, doll. You know that. Play with them as much as you want."

You lose yourself in them right away, both hands on her now, thumbs circling her nipples until she sighs happily. You lean in and press a kiss to the top of one, then the other, your pout fading into a dreamy smile. They're warm and a little sweaty from the argument, and you love it. You love everything about them. The way they bounce when she moves, the soft curve underneath… your favorite thing in the whole world.

Yuki runs her fingers through your hair, tilting your head up so you can look at her while you keep touching. "I'm gonna go out less, okay? I promise. I didn't realize it was bothering you this much." She pauses, her eyes soft and serious for once. "And I've always been loyal to you. Always. No one else gets me like you do."

Your heart melts a little more, even as your hands keep exploring, squeezing and lifting her tits gently. You nuzzle into them, breathing her in.

"You mean it?" you whisper against her skin, planting another kiss right between them.

"I mean it," she says, pulling you tighter against her. "You're my girl. The only one I want coming home to." Her fingers trace down your back, soothing the tension you've been carrying all day. You feel the fight draining out of you completely, replaced by warmth.

You stay like that for a while, face buried in her chest, hands full and happy. Yuki's always been good at winning these little arguments, mostly because she knows exactly how to make you forget why you were upset in the first place.

But pretense would only get him so far. Eventually he hired someone to take care of things around the farm. You hadn’t met them yet but you’d heard they were great at work that your dad could finally put his rest up.

The sun was beating down over the field when you dragged your suitcase out of the car and unlocked the gate using your spare key. The fencing was perfect, stalls and barns were cleaned.

You nodded to yourself, a smile finding its way to your lips. Whoever your dad had hired was definitely competent enough to do almost all of the work all by herself.

That’s when you saw her.

Ellie Williams— a woman with short auburn hair and the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever set your own on. Your lips parted a little in awe as she smiled and waved at you. And then, she started walking over to you— which strangely enough made you quite nervous.

You stood there like your shoes had grown roots into the ground as Ellie finally stopped a few feet away, “hey. I’m Ellie! I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of me, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m y/n.” you said with a smile.

Ellie reached her hand forward instantly, not to shake yours, but to take your luggage. Your eyes widened slightly and you pulled it away quickly.

“N-no, wait, I got it—!”

“Allow me, please,” she said insistently before taking it from you anyway and although you didn’t want to mention it to her you were so glad for that. Your hands hurt from hauling so much of your stuff back from your dorm because city life had really spoiled you.

Ellie helped you carry your things back to the house, putting things down for a few seconds on the porch as she unlocked the door.

“I’m sure your father would be very happy to see you,” Ellie said, “I’ll leave it here if it’s okay,” she said at the threshold.

“Yeah,” you said, taking the suitcase handle which was a little warm from Ellie’s hand, “thank you, you really didn’t have to.”

“I figured I am here to help out.” She said simply, shrugging.

Before you could reply, Ellie turned her back and walked out to the field to continue her work. She was sweet. She left a soft scent of something floral and hay in the air when she left. You’d stay and chat if you didn’t have a shit lot of assignments to get done so you kicked your shoes off and walked in.

“Dad! I’m home!”

“Kitchen!”

His familiar voice called from down the hall. At first you walked towards the sound then before you realised it you broke into a little jog— you had missed your dad. The moment you entered, you didn’t let him step away from the kitchen counter and hugged him tightly.

“Oof—!”

He wrapped his arms around you too.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“What’re you makin’...?”

Your dad smiled and pulled away from the hug.

“Tomato soup.”

You giggled. “My favourite.”

“Mhm.”

You looked into the pot where the soup warmed, just looking into it made you realise how hungry you were. Your dad pulled you away from the stove slowly.

“Take a shower first.”

“But I’m hungry.” You pouted.

He smiled but remained firm, “shower.”

“Okay fine.” You said rolling your eyes playfully before you left for your room.

Your room wasn’t lived in for so long and it showed. A very faint layer of dust covered most of the furniture. You knew that your dad made sure it was cleaned every now and then just to make sure it was livable when you did come back. At his old age, you could only imagine it was hard doing chores around the house. You wished desperately you could’ve studied at a university close by home but your dad wanted you to go to the prestigious one in the city that offered you a scholarship. How could you refuse him when he looked at you with that much pride and hope?

After showering and putting most of your clothes and belongings away, you made your way downstairs.

“I’m going to be outside if you need me,” he said, “I already made you a plate. Eat and rest up.”

You nodded with a grateful smile, “thanks, dad.”

“Mhm.”

You had gotten so used to living by yourself at your dorm, you’d forgotten what it was like to eat a proper, fresh, warm home cooked meal. You’d been living off of instant noodles cups and you desperately wished your dad didn’t know that. He’d be so sad if he did.

It was just you and him.

You knew you meant the world to him.

After eating, you walked outside the house in search of him but didn’t find him around, it was pretty normal. The field was big and maybe he was just elsewhere.

You turned to go back inside— through the corner of your eyes you noticed it; Ellie. She was brushing a horse very carefully, her eyes focused and hand steady. Something in her eyes suggested genuine love towards the animals she cared for and fed everyday.

You walked a little closer, subconsciously smiling at the scene.

Ellie looked up and saw you— “oh, hey.”

You waved shyly. “Hi.”

“Are you lookin’ for your father?”

“No—”

The words escaped you before you could stop yourself. Sure, you loved your dad. You missed him while you were away but now, you also wanted to spend some time getting to know the help he hired.

“So what’re you out here for? I don’t reckon you know how to do any of this.” Ellie said, genuinely not meaning any disrespect through her words even if her phrasing suggested a little bit of an edge.

“I actually used to help around here when I was in middle school and high school.”

Ellie’s eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You took the brush from her, gently brushing the horse in place of her, “I miss working.”

“Miss working?” Ellie scoffed, “I get up at an unholy hour to get everything started and—!”

“That’s the difference between us, Ellie, this is my dad’s farm. It holds sentiment in my heart.”

That shut Ellie up for a bit. She fell into deep thought, then nodded.

“I understand that…”

“You have really pretty eyes.”

The suddenness of the compliment caught her off guard. Her freckled cheeks flushed the color of fresh red roses. Something about making her blush like that was addictive. Like you wanted to do it over and over just to watch the way her lips would press together firmly to try to hold herself back from blurting out weird things.

“Thank you.” She finally said, her cheeks still rosy as she quickly took the brush away from you to keep brushing the horse herself.

Your smile widened, a little playful now, “so… tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“Anythin’.”

“Anythin’...? Umm— I’m Ellie Williams—”

“—bingo.”

“—I like… action comics.”

“Ooh!” You crossed your arms, “what else?”

“I like sketching.”

“Are you any good?”

Ellie blinked, as if genuinely trying to remember her own art to judge herself. She shook her head and kept her hand working through patient, careful strokes of the brush.

“I think I’m decent. I try not to think about perfecting my pieces too much.”

“That’s an unusual thing for an artist to say.”

“Why? Do you… make art?”

You blinked at her.

“What’s art to you?”

“Anything that takes creative space. Art varies. For some people it’s a pencil and paper, for some others it’s clay and a pottery wheel.”

“I like you already.”

Ellie paused, she didn’t respond to the subtle compliment, she backtracked to her question instead.

“So what kind of art do you do?”

“I carve… sometimes.”

“As in stone?”

“Yeah.”

Ellie stopped brushing to look at you with a genuinely bewildered look, “you’re the first person I’ve ever met that carves stone. I wouldn’t have ever guessed. You have really soft hands for—” she caught herself midway staring at your hands, “I mean— I—”

Your soft laughter cut her off. Her embarrassment flared.

“Stop being gay. Stop being gay—” Ellie’s brain kept repeating. She felt like she was a traffic light flashing the color red. She was sure the heat radiating from her cheeks was contributing to global warming.

“It was really nice meeting you, Ellie.”

“Yeah, of course, thank you— I mean— I’m—” Ellie stopped speaking and took a deep breath, exhaled. Then she replied, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

You turned with a last nod to her.

As you walked back in, you saw your father.

“Where were you?” He asked.

“I think I broke your farmhand!” You called back, giggling as you walked back inside the house without context.

-

Studying long hours in your dorm room, while you were back in the city, had become an unhealthy habit. You were a human being that required to be out in the sun for a bit too— much to your dismay. That’s why, today you sat outside, a textbook open on your lap and a laptop propped on top of that as you watched a lecture with your earbuds in.

Ellie worked around you.

You sat in a chair that was placed close by shade in case you needed it or got too hot.

She saw the way you squinted every five minutes, like the laptop had personally challenged you to a fistfight.

Eventually, she stopped pretending she wasn’t watching you. She stood close by your chair and peered over your shoulder— then with the calmest voice she murmured,

“You’re using the wrong proof.”

“... what?”

You turned your head around and took a once over of her. Her shirt was covered in horse hair. You both stared at each other.

“What?” Ellie asked innocently.

“You’re covered in horse hair.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“... Why do you know about differential equations?”

Ellie shrugged, “I do some light reading.”

“Light?” You scoffed, “light???”

“Yeah, just a little—”

“Do it.” You offered up your notebook to her with a pencil.

Ellie took it from you, and used the barn’s wall as a plane surface to press it again, pencil scribbling on as she quickly solved it. It took her just about a minute before she returned it to you, and proceeded to get back into work.

You stared at it, then checked the mark scheme.

“Holy moly…”

Ellie looked over, “did I do it wrong?”

“No, you did it right.”

“Then why do you sound so—?”

“How are you good at everything?”

Ellie opened her mouth to answer but you went on.

“Oh my gosh, you have to teach me. Please, please, please!”

How could she say no when you asked her so nicely?

You both sat close by, knees almost touching as she showed you how to apply formulas mid-work. Every now and then, she’d disappear to fill water troughs and you didn't mind. It was cute watching her doing her little run to join you again.

Within minutes you’d already gotten a great part of your homework assignment done thanks to Ellie and her… “light reading”. You weren’t complaining, of course. This just meant you had more free time on your hands to lounge around, scroll endlessly and sleep in.

“You help around so much singlehandedly,” you said, watching her fixing the fencing.

“You said you did too when you were here,” Ellie said through a grunt.

You shifted weight from one foot to another, playing with the ends of your hair, “well… I wasn’t alone when I did stuff around here. Dad always helped. But he’s not in any condition to help you.”

Ellie glanced up.

“You really loved workin’ here, huh?”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence. She stood straight.

“How about you help me then?”

“Me? Help you?” You smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Yeah, but not too much work,” Ellie laughed, “and not in front of your father. He’ll chew me up.”

Your smile brightened and you lunged at her— throwing your arms around her. “Ah, thank you!!”

Ellie almost stumbled back. “Woah—!”

“This means more to me than you know.”

“Alright, alright— no hugging!” Ellie said but you didn’t let go and just smiled on. She groaned loudly and exaggeratedly before giving in, wrapping her lean yet toned arms around your body.

“That’s more like it,” you said cheerfully.

The next morning, you were up before the sun was, you pulled on a pair of scuffed overalls that strangely fit you well, considering the last time you’d been in those clothes was when you were in high school. You brushed your hair back, and got down on the field, stretching your arms out.

You heard the sound of boots on the ground and Ellie appeared. “Oh, hey, I thought you bailed.”

“Never.”

And you both started working.

You realised Ellie didn’t just work with her hands, she worked with her brain. She used efficient tricks to get her work done faster even though she seemed to favour quality more than pace. She was simply a natural at farm work.

Strangely enough, all the animals seemed to love her presence as well.

“You’re really good at this.”

“You flatter me too much,” Ellie said, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her real feelings.

“I’m genuine.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled. “Do you… like working here or do you do it for the money?”

Ellie looked at the expanse of the farm. “Sometimes it gets tiring. But I work for them,” she nodded to the animals.

That’s when you realised— you were falling.

Hard.

-

One thing led to another and before you knew it, you laid there in Ellie’s room. The ceiling fan groaned with every spin, the soft summer breeze made your nipples perk under your thin shirt. Your dad had gone to run some errands.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out,” she said as she unbuckled her belt.

You watched her belt click open and fall to the ground along with her shorts leaving her naked save for her boxers. Your pussy squeezed at the sight alone. Her nipples were pierced, body lined with lean muscles and some faint scars that you were sure carried interesting stories.

“Baby,” you spread your legs out a little wider so she could see how wet you were, almost as if you were luring her in with your wet cunt, “I need you so bad, please just fuck me like a bad girl…”

Ellie hooked her thumbs around the waist of her boxers and slid them down her legs, tossing them into the pile of clothes on the ground.

“Have you ever done this before?”

You shook your head. “I’m… I’ve never really even touched myself.”

Ellie raised a brow as she sat at the edge of the bed, hand on your thigh, “then it’ll hurt baby.”

“I know,” you muttered, “but I want this. I want you.”

“Okay, just because you look so fuckin’ irresistible when you speak like that,” she got up and opened a drawer, looking in for something.

“Ellie,” you called.

“Yeah?” She didn’t turn as she continued searching.

“You have a really nice butt,” you said with a grin.

You didn’t see it, but you knew she was blushing.

“Thanks…”

She put on a harness carefully, securing it around her waist. What jutted out from the middle almost made you lose your breath, it looked like a silicone dick. You stared at her climbing back onto the bed.

“You still wanna do this?” She asked as she applied lube to the shaft, running her hand on the length.

“Yeah,” you gripped the sheets a little harder, “I’m positive.”

Ellie moved closer until the head of the toy rubbed against your folds. She gripped both your hands with her own, her thumbs rubbing circles on them as she slowly pushed herself inside. You didn’t feel anything at the start until the flared base pushed inside you, making your cunt stretch around the toy almost excruciatingly.

“El—” you breathed in sharply, “wait, wait—!”

“Yeah, I’m not moving,” she said calmly, “let me know when I should though.”

You nodded, “it’s just— it’s bigger than I expected. I thought I’d be fine—”

“You don’t have to rely on anything you’ve read online. Real sex is different,” Ellie said simply, kissing your forehead, “just take your time, sweetheart.”

Your pussy fluttered at that, “I like it when you call me that,” you murmured shyly.

“Is that so? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” Ellie grinned, reaching her hand down to rub circles on your clit.

You gasped as you squeezed her other hand, “that feels good…”

“Yeah?”

Ellie leaned closer and allowed more inches of the strap inside, filling you up entirely. She pushed to the hilt and kissed your forehead again.

“You’re doing so well, baby.”

“I’m so full, it’s in my tummy…”

“Yeah, I know, sweet girl. I know,” Ellie leaned herself back so you could admire the way her toned abdomen flexed every time she pistoned her hips forward.

The toy moved in and out of you at a slow, gentle pace. Her hand on your clit ensured you were always pleasured even if your pussy getting stretched hurt. After a little bit of the repeated motion, you knew you were wetter. You felt it dripping out.

The silicone dick was soaked.

Ellie was having the time of her life.

“That’s my sweet girl. Look at me.”

Your face was only getting redder. You still obeyed and turned your eyes to hers, looking at her through your lashes.

“There she is,” Ellie groaned as if she could feel your tight pussy around the strap.

She started getting a little faster.

“Ellie—! Wait… wait, oh, oh— nnnnghh…”

“Does that feel good?” Ellie asked, gently guiding one of your legs up over her shoulder.

“What’re you—? Ah! Oh, that’s deeper!”

The air between you two was thick with patience and love, the scent of sex wafting through the air. It didn’t take long for a thin sheen of sweets to decorate Ellie’s abs, your pussy juices flowing continuously as she pumped the strap inside. The constant friction made your walls pulse with need.

Your legs felt numb.

There was a knot in your stomach.

“Ellie— Ellie, slow down, I think I’m gonna pee myself.”

Ellie smirked, “no, you’re not.”

“Ellie, I really am—! I can’t hold it, I’m— oh my God!”

As you cried out and hid your face with both hands, your pussy squeezed and came around Ellie’s strap. She slowly eased herself out to show you the soaked toy.

“You came, baby, that’s your orgasm.”

You blinked. “O-oh.”

Ellie smiled— taking a second to adore how you looked all ruined for her. She couldn’t believe it herself; the farm she worked for… she fucked the owner’s daughter. She took that very girl’s virginity. But she couldn’t help it. The thrill of how wrong this was only turned her on more— before she knew it— she drove forwards and—

Schlik!

You cried out, “Oh! I’m sensitive, Ellie!”

“I know, baby, I know. But you’re gonna take me, right?”

You nodded, your cheeks red with embarrassment as she fucked you a little harder than before, making the bed creak under you two. Your moans came soft, broken.

Every thrust inside made your legs feel a little more numb than before.

She slammed inside and ground the tip of the strap against your cervix making you cry out and kick your legs— you really were too precious. Your moans were soft and adorable to Ellie.

All she wanted to do was pin you down and fuck you harder but she knew she needed to have adequate restrain on herself.

She pressed her body flush against yours, “come here, pretty girl.”

Before you could react, she pinned both your hands over your head with one of her hands as her lips found your bare skin.

She nipped, bit and left marks. Every time she sucked another dark hickey on your breast, you only whined and struggled weakly against her hold on you. She had total control on you and you weren’t complaining.

You liked this. You enjoyed this.

“Ellie, I’m— I’m cumming again!” You said, but she kissed you, silencing your whines.

When you came the second time you swore you passed out for a bit. But you knew you were safe because you were in Ellie’s arms— the only person your father trusted to take care of the farm, and soon… you.

the gentle glow of the afternoon sun illuminated the mossy ground, casting soft beams of light through the canopy of tall trees that filled the forest. and it was in one of those trees that you were.

magically shrunk down to your tiny fairy form, wearing a dress you’d crafted yourself from sturdy leaves, cotton, and a few human trinkets secretly swiped from their village, you were gathering small red berries and placing them into a little basket.

suddenly, a large shadow loomed over you, darkening the area around you. instead of getting frightened, you sighed and rolled your eyes as you felt warm breath against your back.

“sevika, you don’t scare me anymore. it’s useless.”

she let out an annoyed huff and a click of tongue, abandoning the pose she had intended to use to startle you.

“i liked you better when i could scare you at any moment.”

you couldn’t help the small, sided smile playing on your lips.

once you finished gathering the fruit, you turned toward her, fluttering your translucent wings to land on the tip of the branch and settle there, facing sevika directly.

sevika was a magnificent specimen of a woman. standing an impressive 2.60 meters tall, she possessed a goddess physique mostly covered in sleek, wavy dark brown fur, piercing gray eyes, long claws, and heightened senses far beyond those of any an ordinary human, not to mention the beautiful, terrifying, and deadly fangs in her mouth.

to anyone else, she would have seemed a threat at first glance, but anyone lucky enough to survive an encounter with her during a full moon would realize she wasn’t bad at all. not even close, actually. despite her usually withdrawn and gruff demeanor, she was cool. quiet, yet she spoke when necessary. territorial and protective, but gentle when the moment called for it. no wonder she had looked after you when she’d accidentally nearly crushed you while chasing illegal hunters through the forest, helping you recover from a damaged wing. now, you were friends. even if she take a long time to admit it.

sevika sat down, her bare back resting against the trunk of the tree you were in, and you watched her from your branch.

she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, simply enjoying the calm afternoon breeze. rhe rise and fall of her breathing made her bare breasts—the left one bearing visible, old scars—move slowly, and you swallowed hard at the sight.

it wasn’t that nudity was anything new to magical creatures like you, but there was something about gazing at her body that went beyond the chaste admiration you felt when seeing other beings that way.

your wings beat, slowly lowering you to the ground. you set the basket down and flew over to her, settling onto her thigh; you quickly and with practiced ease looked away when you realized just how close you were to her groin. sevika opened one eye and gazed at your bare back, watching your raised wings.

“is everything okay?” the werewolf asked cautiously.

“yeah. why wouldn’t it be?” you replied, somewhat distracted, your gaze fixed on a random flower.

“don’t know. it’s just that you usually talk more when we meet up.”

at that, you let out a low chuckle from deep in your throat, raising both eyebrows in a smug, teasing expression as you turned to look her straight in the eye.

“mm, do you miss me so much that you can’t stand not hearing my voice, is that it?”

sevika’s expression shifted from slight concern to scorn in seconds. the werewolf scoffed and glanced away toward the trees, shaking her head in disapproval.

“you’re insufferable. did you know that?”

you simply hummed softly in response—a sound of satisfaction characteristic of fairies—and turned your gaze forward again, missing the moment sevika took the chance to look at your back once more.

the truth was, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off you for a while now. she was drawn to you, and the embarrassment burned hot in her chest when she realized it, weeks ago.

damn it, you were a fairy barely a foot tall, living your life happily and undisturbed long before she ever showed up. why would you ever reciprocate the sexual attraction (it was something more than that, though she certainly wouldn’t admit it even to herself) felt by a creature larger than anything ever seen before, covered in battle scars and deemed aggressive by everyone else? ridiculous.

“sevika.” your voice snapped her out of her thoughts instantly.

luckily, you hadn’t turned around before speaking, so she had a moment to stop staring at your back.

“what is it now?”

“have you ever slept with anyone?”

what the hell was that.

“...excuse me?”

you swallowed hard and cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up, your heart pounding wildly, and your wings fluttering slightly with anxiety. but you weren’t going to back down.

if you had looked, you would have seen how flushed her cheeks were and the adorable way she couldn’t quite close her mouth, stunned by the question.

“i asked if you’ve ever had sex with anyone,” you repeated, already losing patience.

“okay, okay. i got it the first time. was just... shocked. but yeah, i’ve slept with some people.” silence. “haven’t you?”

“yes,” you replied. too quickly. “and... were they, like, your size? the creatures you were with.”

she paused to think about it, recalling the partners she’d found to help ease the pain of her rut since that was the only time she sought the warmth of another woman.

“well, mostly. i’ve been with other werewolves, a really tall vampire, a gargoyle—”

“you’ve been with a gargoyle?!”

your voice came out loud and shocked; you turned fully to face her, eyes wide and wings flared. sevika let out a chuckle.

“yeah, she was just passing through and we hooked up. she was huge. i’m not exaggerating! i honestly don’t know how i survived that woman…”

you nodded slightly, shock fading as you returned to the core of your question. you bit the inside of your cheek, thoughtful.

“so you have a type, then? someone your size or bigger.”

“mmm, i guess you could say that. but i wouldn’t mind experimenting with smaller creatures.”

“how much smaller?”

sevika stared straight at you now, eye to eye. you maintained a determined expression—clearly forcing yourself not to look away or shy away from the topic—while your heart pounded so hard it was almost alarming.

she watched you, one eyebrow slightly raised and her eyes fixed on you in a mix of mild confusion and sudden realization. she called your name, and that alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“whatndo you want with this?”

with a soft sigh, you remained silent but moved to stand on her thigh, using your hands to start slipping off your dress. sevika’s eyes went wide, and she nearly froze in place.

“what are you—”

as soon as you were naked, you barely gave her time to process it before your body was enveloped in a soft, yellowish glow. it lasted a few seconds, until your form began to grow and grow. sevika remained still in the face of the magic, surprised but not frightened, making no move to get up before seeing everything.

when the glow faded, her breath hitched audibly.

you were still you, just much bigger now, though “much bigger” is a bit of an understatement; you were still real short compared to her, but at least you were the height of an average human or some other creature out there. your entire body had adapted to this size, making it perfect for sitting on her lap and holding onto her shoulders.

sevika let out a long, impressed whistle, her gaze traveling from your face down to your feet without a hint of shame. you held her gaze, even though you wanted to bury yourself in the nearest hole. perhaps in her hole.

“didn’t know you could do that.”

“there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“oh really? mind showing me?”

sevika placed her hand on your waist, giving it a light squeeze and a gentle tug to pull you closer. you didn’t resist or hesitate, even though the movement caused your bare pussy to drag against her thigh, making you let out a faint gasp.

she arched an eyebrow, and a smug smile played across her pretty face, making you frown.

ignoring your indignant look, sevika let her eyes roam over your body again, this time shamelessly focusing exactly where she wanted to look. her gaze lingered on your breasts for a few seconds, watching them rise and fall slowly with your steady breathing. then, her eyes traveled down to your intimate area. fully covered in curly hair, annuntrimmed bush, though still smaller than the mess she sported herself. there was also a happy trail leading up to your navel. cute.

you pressed your legs together slightly, unsure if it was out of arousal or an attempt to shield yourself from her gaze.

“so, little fairy, how long have you been thinking so much about who i sleep with? hmm?” sevika whispered as she leaned close to your ear, trailing a lick from the curve of your neck up to the back of your pointed ear. your next breath came out shaky, and you gripped her shoulder, trying to steady yourself.

but you weren’t going to let her get the upper hand, absolutely not.

“ever since i noticed the way you stare at my ass when my dress rides up,” you shot back, turning your head just enough to look her in the eye.

sevika’s grayish eyes widened for a moment before a satisfied laugh escaped her, revealing her sharp fangs.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

sevika took you to her cabin, a safe haven she had built in the woods. far enough away from humans and the routes hunters usually took. hidden enough to ensure peace and privacy whenever she wanted, yet comfortable and airy enough to avoid feeling stifled.

now, you were lying on the heap of stolen human mattress meant to serve as a bed; it was comfortable enough to act as one.

the werewolf loomed over you. her massive, muscular frame contrasting sharply with your smaller body. you probably could cum just from your size difference, her huge body sending electric shocks to your core. and she was kissing you with such voracity and intensity that you were left breathless within seconds, though you were never the one to break the contact.

her large hands gripped your waist and hips possessively, while yours held tight to her shoulders. one of her legs slid between yours, pressing firmly against you. your body gave a slight jolt at the sudden contact, but as you settled into it, you shamelessly began to grind against her, moving up and down with calculated force to feel the slow friction; her thigh quickly soaked with your wetness.

“you’re so wet already.” she murmured against your mouth, her breathing already growing heavy.

“sevika…” you moaned, closing your eyes and focusing on movements that applied more pressure to your clitoris.

“c’mere.” she interrupted your movements, pulling you over with ease and shifting you slightly to the side.

sevika lay down in your spot, settling in before pulling you back, this time positioning you on top of her. it was both arousing and intimidating how effortlessly she could move you around.

you looked down at her, breathing heavily. your brows furrowed slightly when you noticed she still wore that smug look on her face.

“what?”

“nothing. i just like seeing how desperate you are for me.”

you scoffed, but a faint, subtle smile played on your lips. that idiot still knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“shut up.”

“why don’t you come shut me up? got anything that’ll keep my mouth busy?”

you bit your lower lip at this, letting out a slow breath before finally moving. in an instant, your soaked pussy was hovering right over her face. sevika swore she felt dizzy as she inhaled sharply, catching your scent. so close, so ready, and so open for her. a sticky drop even dripped right onto her lips, a testament to just how aroused you were.

“well? aren’t you going to—ah!” your complaints vanished the moment sevika’s broad tongue slowly licked the entire length of your pussy, pausing to swirl firmly around your clit before she locked her mouth perfectly onto you and sucked hard.

you writhed above her, desperate to hold onto something and try to channel the sensations her darting tongue was provoking. all you had were the wooden wall in front of you and her hair, which you gripped with strength far beyond what was normal for your species.

she spent a few more agonizing minutes sucking and licking you, both of you never breaking eye contact. your eyes refused to close, despite the dizzying pleasure radiating from your core.

but, of course, she wasn’t about to stop there.

sevika lifted you slightly, barely an inch, just enough to stretch her tongue out. when she brought you back down, your eyes rolled back and you squeezed them shut as her wet, restless tongue slid into your hole.

your pussy clenched instantly, making sevika groan against you as she felt the pressure. your hips began to move in sync; you rode her face while she tried to bury herself as deep inside you as possible, moving her tongue with precision.

“s—sevika… oh, i… fuck, you—right there! right there!”

you could barely string a single sentence together, and knowing she was eliciting that reaction from you made sevika realize just how much she herself was leaking. how much her own pussy ached in anticipation.

kept her thrusts focused on the spot you’d indicated, holding you steady as your legs began to tremble violently, your body started to jerk and spasm, and your wings fluttered frantically. within seconds, you arched your back and clamped your legs tightly around her head, unable to even catch your breath as you came hard in her mouth.

sevika pressed harder with her hands to pry your legs open, not so she could breathe better, though she was likely close to getting lightheaded from the lack of air—honestly, passing out while being smothered by your legs and pussy wouldn’t have been the worst way to go—but to snap you back to reality so you’d breathe again.

“hey, little fairy. breathe.” one of her hands moved up to cup your face and draw your attention, and it worked.

you released the breath you’d been holding at the height of your orgasm, gasping sharply to steady yourself.

once you regained your composure, your eyes slowly opened; your vision was slightly blurred from the tears that had welled up while your eyelids were squeezed shut.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice a little deeper than usual.

“yeah… yeah, i am.” you let out a long, breathless laugh. “you’re actually pretty good at this.”

sevika rolled her eyes and smiled, holding back a retort to your teasing when she saw the way you were looking at her now.

there was still so much lust and energy in your gaze that, for a split second, sevika felt like she was the prey this time.

“what are you planning?”

you didn’t answer with words; instead, you moved lower, slowly at first, as your legs were still heavy and trembling from the climax, but fully determined in your intent. sevika swallowed hard and moved with you, shifting into a seated position against the wall and keeping her shapely legs spread open.

the sight before you made her salivate like no one else ever had.

sevika’s pussy was absolutely drenched. her hole clenched around empty, her huge clit was fully exposed, twitching.

“holy shit, you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, practically in awe of her.

sevika would have loved to pretend she didn’t feel shy and even more aroused by the compliment, by the look in your shining eyes and your parted lips, but it was hard to hide the flush rising in her cheeks and the way her pussy involuntarily clenched tighter this time.

you settled in closer to her, and shedding any remaining shyness, reached a hand toward her pussy. your fingers grazed her clitoris from top to bottom, the mere contact making the werewolf shiver slightly. your hand continued downward until it reached her pulsing entrance.

trying to regain some of her confident demeanor, sevika let out a soft, teasing laugh.

“what are you going to do with those little fingers?”

“who said i’m only going to use my fingers?”

her eyes widened slightly.

“what?”

you just smiled back, ignoring her uncertainty as you lowered yourself. sevika’s gaze lingered on your arched ass for a moment before she was snapped back to reality, letting out a surprised moan as you licked her clit.

you closed your mouth around the nub and you sucked hard, keeping your lips sealed around it while running your tongue over it. lower down, your hand circled her pulsing entrance.

sevika called your name amidst low growls and gasps; her self-control was already slipping as she moved her hips, trying to press her clit deeper into your mouth and guide your hand to exactly where she needed it the most. sensing her urgency, you pulled away from her clit, catching a glimpse of the thin strand of saliva and her own juices connecting your tongue to her nub for a split second before it snapped.

“i’m coming in…” you hummed, shaping your hand into a cone and pushing inside her.

sevika groaned, eyes squeezing shut as she felt your hand slide inside. she furrowed her brows at the delicious, relentless intrusion as you pushed deeper, moving past your wrist.

she was so aroused and receptive that you slipped in easily. you paused halfway up your forearm, giving her slick insides a moment to adjust.

“is this good?”

“it’s perfect, little fairy…” you smiled with satisfaction, admiring her look of intense concentration, and then began to move your arm still slowly, sliding out to the wrist and back in to the middle of your forearm, rotating your arm.

sevika gripped the mattress beneath tightly, groaning through gritted teeth as small yet powerful tremors of pleasure rippled through her body.

the way your arm rubbed against deep, sensitive spots with a staggering contrast of gentleness and firmness left her completely lost.

“k–keep going…” was all she managed to whisper, and you certainly weren’t about to disobey.

you kept up a steady pace, and that seemed to be enough for sevika, who cared only about how deep you were and which spots you were hitting. whenever your hand or arm brushed a specific area that made her arch her back and moan, you’d focus on it again, biting your lower lip as you watched her eyes roll back before squeezing shut.

when she started thrashing, babbling incoherently, and growling more than moaning, you leaned in to lick the tip of her hard nipple without stopping the thrusting motion of your arm, almost laughing when she choked on her own saliva.

her legs trembled, and you could see the muscles tensing hard, just as you felt her pussy clamping down on your arm. the force of the contractions made it feel like she was sucking you right inside.

once she relaxed, letting out a shaky, slightly weary sigh, you carefully withdrew your arm. she just gave a faint shiver. your arm was drenched, completely slick and coated in her fluids.

“hey.” her rusky voice snapped you out of your trance. “still have energy for another round?”

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

and that was how you found yourself: face down, ass up, using your own hands to spread yourself as wide as you could for her.

kneeling behind you, sevika thrust slowly against you with her own clit, fighting hard not to tremble every time she slid into your dripping heat.

neither of you could speak for a while, especially after sevika had spread your legs wider than ever, rubbing your clits together until you were both on the brink of a powerful orgasm, only to stop abruptly seconds before finally letting go.

you accidentally let go of your grip, bracing your hands on the sheets, but that wasn’t a problem for her; she let out a low growl and held you open herself, spreading you as wide as she could—enough to avoid hurting you, and enough to keep thrusting.

“feels so good… shit…” she growled, thrusting faster and trying to drive herself as deep as possible as she felt the orgasm again.

you could only moan and call her name, pressing yourself against her, drooling as you felt her clit throbbing inside you.

“i—i’m cumming—i’m… fucking… cumming! ah!”

“yeah—cum with me, little fairy.”

after four more thrusts from sevika, you both came at the same time, pressing hard against each other.

sevika rested her forehead on your sweaty back, whimpering as she rubbed against you even in the throes of orgasm, which resulted in a rapid, frenzied overstimulation. she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. not with your warm pussy against her, your smaller body trembling, and the sound of your shaky gasps filling the air.

she squirted right after, a powerful jet leaving a huge stain on the sheets beneath you, followed by smaller, uncontrolled spurts that left wet trails behind.

and finally, you were both done. truly done. there was no energy left for another round or any other ideas.

sevika traced a path of wet kisses from your back up to the nape of your neck, where she gave a light nip with her sharp fangs, making your breath hitch.

within minutes, you were lying comfortably on top of her, both with eyes closed and breathing steady and calm, feeling the familiar, comforting warmth of each other’s naked, exhausted bodies.

“never thought a fairy knew how to fuck so well.”

“like i said, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me. fleabag.”

sevika gave your ass a warning smack for the new insulting nickname. it stung, but it didn't work; you just laughed and snuggled closer to her, causing her to immediately let go of her mild annoyance.

after a few seconds of peace and quiet, just when you thought you were about to drift into a deep, well-deserved sleep, she spoke again.

“hey.”

“hm?“

“do you think i could fuck you with my tongue if you were in your fairy size?”

this werewolf would be the death of you really soon. and you couldn’t imagine a better way to die.

You sit in front of her, diagonally to the right. And she’s always been respectfully appreciative of having such a beautiful girl in such close proximity to her, if even for a 50 minute class-period.

She knows you, but she doesn’t know know you. She knows she’s seen you roaming the halls with Nancy Wheeler, she’s spotted your name on articles in the Hawkins High school paper, but she hasn’t exchanged a single word with you aside from the time you asked her to borrow a pencil. (She had, in her nervousness, given you her only pencil and was left unable to take notes the entire class.)

It would be a lie for her to claim that she wasn’t crushing on you. I mean, how could she not be? There’s no possible way anyone could expect her not to have a crush on someone like you. It’s been pretty tame, however, just little daydreams here and there.

But today. Dear God, today was testing her limits.

The thing is, Robin didn’t mean to look. She really, really didn’t. But it’s kind of hard not to when you’re in a natural line of sight and she already has a reason to look your direction because even the back of your head is pretty.

Today, you’re showing off a little more skin than usual.

It’s a simple fashion mishap. Your jeans rode down a bit too low once you sat in your seat. It happens to everyone, right? It’s just that you’re wearing these underwear, and they’re peeking out above your pants, and it’s like you’re personally taunting her.

They’re black with lace, and holy shit Robin was a goner the instant she noticed them.

Again, she didn’t mean to look. She’s trying really, really hard not to objectify you. But what the hell.

She might as well be drooling, her head propped up by her right hand, her gaze locked on you and that scandalous little garment. Uninterested in the topic at hand, she easily tunes out the teacher’s monologue. Her mind wanders; as much as she’s trying to be good and polite and respectful, her thoughts are turning out to be anything but.

Because it’s so, so fucking easy to imagine herself unbuttoning your jeans. Tugging down the zipper, hands eager to cop a feel. She can picture the way you’d shiver when her nimble fingers cupped your heat over the fabric of those pretty black panties. She can nearly hear the gasp you’d let out when the pad of her index finger teased your hole. Her mouth nearly tingles with the imaginary softness of your lips against hers, the pretty gloss you wear rubbing off on her own smirk.

She’s in too deep, because she’s imagining hooking her fingers through those panties and slowly working them down your thighs; teasing you. Locking eyes with you as she strips your bottom half bare, letting her fingers caress you carefully. The image is so clear in her brain; sliding a digit through your folds, already soaking wet for her. Your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back, exposing the column of your neck to her teeth and tongue. She can feel the warmth of your skin on her tongue as she sucks on a section of it, only pulling away when you’re mewling in a satisfied sort of pain.

You’d make the cutest sounds, there’s no doubt about it, your high-pitched little moans ringing in her ears as she imagines pushing one finger fully inside of you. She’s testing the waters, slowly pumping her index finger in and out, feeling the warmth of your inner walls engulfing it.

And when you start to buck your hips, because you just can’t take it and you need more, she’ll throw her middle finger into the mix, too. Two fingers fucking you, slowly at first then gradually picking up speed and intensity. You let her name fall from your lips, and it makes goosebumps erupt on her skin with how pretty she guesses it sounds in your mouth.

She thinks it would be fun to taunt you a little bit, get you even more riled up.

“What, pretty girl?” she can hear herself asking you after the second moan of her name.

“Feel so good,” is your reply, your voice taking on a breathy quality.

Your body is pliant under her control, arching into her touch and encouraging her actions. She knows she wouldn’t be able to take it, letting her composure slip a little as she fucks you harder with her fingers. Your cunt makes the filthiest sounds, your wetness sloshing and squelching with each pump of her palm against your sex. It only eggs her on; if she had a tail, it would surely be wagging.

She’d start kissing your neck as she fingers you, dipping down to the junction where it meets your shoulder. Maybe she’d bite down, see how you react to it. Maybe she’d let her teeth draw blood, only to lap it up with her tongue.

In real time, you shift in your seat at your desk, and it makes Robin’s whole body feel warm. A tiny bit more of your panties poke out, your ass just centimeters out of view.

In her head, her free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the doughy flesh until you mewl into her mouth.

“Don’t stop, Robin,” you’d cry, muffled by her sloppy kisses to your mouth. Her fingers curl mercilessly inside you, and if your words are anything to go by, you’re getting close to release.

She’d keep up her pace, listening to you moan and whine with each press of her fingers to that sweet spot inside of you. She can feel the ghostly press of your fingertips to her shoulder, nails digging in to brace yourself.

“Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous girl?” is what she would ask, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Mhm,” your whimpered response reverberates inside her brain, your bottom lip sucked beneath your teeth in concentration.

She knows it would be earth-shattering, watching you cum. She knows it would be even better feeling it happen, around her fingers.

Her fantasy reaches the perfect peak, your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls squeeze her fingers, clenching in an erratic pattern. Your head is tipped toward the ceiling, her name slipping past your lips.

“Robin,” you nearly scream.

It’s the prettiest sound she’s ever heard.

“Robin.”

It’s a plea, a chant, a prayer all in one.

“Robin!” her name comes for the third time, but this time the voice doesn’t sound so much like yours. It sounds like—

“Ms. Buckley, are you paying attention?”

Robin’s head snaps up, her posture straightening, suddenly alert. The fantasy slips out of her brain, the images going cloudy as the classroom comes back into focus.

Mrs. Click stares disapprovingly from the front of the room, tapping a pen against her palm in waiting.

Her face goes crimson, embarrassment flooding her body. She’d been completely laser-focused on you, and she finds herself suddenly taking up faith and praying to every god that no one realized she was staring so hard. Staring so hard at your ass, to be specific.

“Y-yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” Robin replies, voice hoarse. Of course she hadn’t been paying attention. She doesn’t have the slightest clue what’s going on.

“As I was saying,” the teacher huffs. “You’ll be partnered with Y/N for the project.”

Robin feels herself nod, even give a weak smile, but she suddenly feels like there’s cotton in her ears. The last thing she thinks she needs right now is to have to work in close proximity to you, on a project she knows nothing about because she was too busy fantasizing about finger-fucking you.

She chances a glance at you, only to be met by your gaze staring right back, over your shoulder. You give her a sweet little smile, fingers waggling in a subtle wave, oblivious to the things you’re doing to her.

She waves back, swallowing hard.

Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.

That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.

“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”

In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”

Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”

“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.

“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.

Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.

You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?

It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.

But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.

See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.

If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.

You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.

All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.

You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.

But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?

No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.

You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.

One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.

A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.

Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.

You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.

“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.

“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.

“Yeah, I already know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”

“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”

You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.

But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I wouldn't say that.”

“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.

“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.

And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”

“Oh, just spit it out already.”

You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”

“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”

“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”

Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”

Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.

You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”

“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”

“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”

“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Please—”

“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”

“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”

Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.

That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.

“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.

“I want you, Robs.”

She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.

“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.

You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.

After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.

Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.

But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.

Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.

“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.

Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”

Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.

“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”

“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”

“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”

With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.

“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.

Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”

“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.

Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.

You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.

As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.

You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.

There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.

Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.

But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.

Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.

“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”

She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?

“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”

“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.

Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.

Good.

“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”

“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.

“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”

“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”

Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.

“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.

“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.

She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.

So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.

“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.

Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.

“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.

“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.

“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”

You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”

You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.

“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.

“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.

Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.

“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.

“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”

You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.

“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”

Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.

“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.

You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.

The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.

“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.

Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”

She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.

“My good girl.”

Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.

You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.

“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.

“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”

“Your girl?” she teases.

You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”

“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”

“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm.”

You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.

Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.

Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.

“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”

Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”

You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.

Right in the middle of the open field.

“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.

“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.

As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.

“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”

“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”

“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”

tagging some moots 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @impmunson @voyeurmunson @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski

“No, he’s stupid!” You hear Alysa call back downstairs to one of her sisters before bumping open the door with her foot and closing it behind her. You barely even look up when she comes in, too focused on taking notes. “Okay, I’m back,” She says with an exhale, setting her bowl of chips and guac on her nightstand before flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Alysa is back in town for a short break in between her Stars on Ice tour, and it’s honestly been a while since the two of you last saw each other, but you have the bar exam coming up, and you need to ace it.

“How long are you going to be studying for?” She asks through a bite of food, peering around your arm to get a better look at your open computer.

“No idea.” You reply absent-mindedly, jotting down a piece of information that seems important.

“So, do I get any attention?”

You sigh, turning around to face her. “This literally determines my future,”

“Okay, that might be a bit dramatic, and I thought I was your future?”

You can’t help but giggle, having to turn away to prevent yourself from getting distracted. “You are.”

A little while goes by, all you hear is her quiet munching in the background, occasionally her phone plays some music as she scrolls through TikTok, until she looks up from her phone, blurting, “You missed me, right? Like physically? Emotionally? Spiritually?” 

Turning around, you raise an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

“So, like love me?”

“I do love you, like a lot,”

She huffs, eyes returning to her phone as you go back to studying. But you’re distracted again minutes later, by the sheets shifting behind you, and then the weight of your girlfriend as she crawls onto your lap, curling up.

“Keep studying, I’m not distracting you,” She insists, resting her head on your chest as she watches you work. Oh, she absolutely is distracting you. But you make no move to push her off. 

A little bit later…

“Okay, this one says,” She pulls the flashcard away from her face, squinting her eyes as if she can’t read it. “Sit on my face?” Her pitch goes higher as she pretends to be shocked.

Rolling your eyes, you snatch the cards back. “You’re supposed to be quizzing me on law, not sex positions.”

Giggling, she moves behind you, her chin resting on my shoulder as she watches you review, her food long gone, and her incredibly bored and needy. 

Practically moments after, she begins distracting you again, this time with her teeth gently grazing your earlobe, followed by soft kisses down your neck. She leaves slow, deliberate kisses just below your ear, and you can feel her smiling into them as you squirm around, now more distracted than ever. Adding to it, you feel her soft fingers tracing up and down your inner thigh, grabbing and kneading. A heartbeat begins to morph in your belly, warm heat pooling in your panties. Arching your neck, you give her room to suck before you realize what you’re doing and what you’re in the middle of. Reaching behind, you push her away, shooting her a glare.

“Baby, I just wanna reduce stress for you!” She protests, hands in the air.

“The positions you have me in leave my body quite possibly more stressed,” You reply, pressing your lips together against a giggle at her dramatics. 

“But like you haven’t touched me in 26 days. I counted.” Sticking out her bottom lip, she whines, fake-pouting dramatically. 

“And I will when I’m finished,”

“You could be finished a little faster if I were in control,” She waggles her eyebrows at me, smirking. 

Giving her a shove, you just laugh. “Shut up,”

“Fine.” Swinging her feet over the side of her bed, she stands up and “accidentally” lifts your hoodie that she’s wearing, exposing her bare back. Fuck, she’s not wearing anything underneath it. 

Mouth practically watering now and highly turned on, you do your best to turn your focus back on your school work, but you know that you’re also well past your breaking point.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” You grumble, standing up to tackle her back on the bed. Faces mere inches from each other and bodies flush, you lie on top of her, your noses brushing. “But you won.”

She’s grinning, her silver smiley piercing glinting in the warm light of her room. “I know.” Reaching up, she captures your lips in her mouth, and you fall into a dance. Slow at first, but it begins to get faster, more heated as she grabs at you, pulling you closer into her. 

Your mouths move together, the sound of you pulling apart and going back in pulls heat into your cheeks. You missed her. She tastes like candy and something else, mint maybe? Something a little less familiar surrounds the comfort, but she reassures you like always, flipping you over so she’s on top. You now look up as her hair falls into your face. 

A slow, teasing smirk builds as she slots a thigh between your legs, and you gasp, grasping her as she pushes. Just hard enough for- fuck.

The doors slide open for the hundredth time, and your heart still jumps like it might be her.

Then, finally, it is.

She walks through the doors, her face changing as soon as she sees you. Not the media smile, not the practiced smile, her smile. Her hair is slightly messy from the flight, her headphones hang around her neck, and she’s clad in some sweats, her Team USA jacket half-zipped, but fuck, she looks gorgeous.

Rushing over, she drops her bag at some point, throwing her arms around your shoulders. The hug is anything but cute; it’s tight, it’s desperate, it’s a hug worth weeks of not being able to see each other. 

“Hi, baby,” You say, whispering into her hair, not even bothering to pull apart. She giggles as you hop a little, excited to see her. “I missed you so much,”

“I missed you possibly even more,” Her voice comes out muffled because of you pressing into her, but you can hear the smile in her voice; she’s practically radiating. 

Your hand slides up her back, rubbing it gently as you slowly pull away just enough to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes tired. Leaning in again, you press a soft kiss to her mouth, wanting to save something real for the privacy of your shared apartment. 

“I’m so proud of you, it actually hurts,” You whisper, looking into her eyes.

Her face turns red as she tucks herself into your neck like she’s not the Olympic champion the country just watched. Like she’s just your girl who hasn’t slept in days and needs to be held.

Picking up the forgotten bag, your hand settles at the small of her back.“Let’s go home.”

Later that night…

The two of you sit on your apartment’s rooftop, and twinkling string lights illuminate the space, the starry night sky above you. When planning her welcome-back dinner, you decided on something a little quieter, assuming she wanted a small breather after the cameras and people constantly following her.

With a blanket spread out beneath you, you admire her, watching as she eats one of her favorite take-out meals. She’s still the same as you remember her from a month before, her skin glowing in the soft lighting, her eyes still scrunching in the corners as she smiles at you.

Already finished with your helping, you sip on the champagne you brought up, making light conversation with Alysa, not wanting to bombard her with too much.

Your eyes drift down for a moment, catching the glint of gold still hanging around her neck. She never took it off.

The ribbon disappears beneath the collar of her shirt, the medal leaning as she leans forward to grab another bite.

You tilt your head slightly.

“You know,” You murmur, reaching forward to touch the cool metal. “Most people would’ve taken this off by now.”

She looks down at it before looking back at you, a small smirk playing on her lips. “What? You don’t like it?”

Your mind is dizzy with possibilities running through your brain, most of them involving her and the gold. Ignoring her last question, you shift on the blanket until you’re sitting closer, knees brushing. “You’re so pretty in gold,” It comes out breathy and almost a mewl. 

Alysa pauses mid-bite when your fingers hook lightly under the medal ribbon, lifting it just enough for the cool gold to catch the light.

Her cheeks go pink as I stare at her for far longer than I meant to, her mouth full of food. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cocking an eyebrow, you tilt your glass toward her. “Can you blame me?” 

“A little,”

You huff out a laugh. “Shut up.”

Alysa grins, nudging your knee with hers under the blanket, the heat of her engulfing you. “No, seriously. What?”

Your eyes flick down for a second before meeting hers again. “You’re kinda insane, you know that?”

“Because I ate half the dumplings?”

“No.” You lean back on one hand, letting your gaze drag over her for a second longer than necessary. “Because you’re sitting here like a normal person when you literally just won the Olympics.”

She rolls her eyes, cheeks going a little pink. “Oh my god.”

“What?” you laugh. “I’m serious.”

She shakes her head, trying to hide the smile pulling at her mouth as she sets the container aside. “You’ve said that like ten times tonight.”

“Yeah, well.” You take another sip of champagne. “I’m gonna keep saying it.”

Alysa bumps her shoulder into yours.

“Okay, but you’re being weird about it.”

“Weird?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” she says, glancing at you sideways. “You keep looking at me like you’re about to do something.”

Your eyebrow lifts. “Maybe I am.”

That makes her pause. “Sounds threatening,”

You tug lightly on the ribbon, pulling her just a few inches closer. Your lips graze her ear now, her scent enveloping you. “Been waiting all month to celebrate you properly.”

The confidence she carried seconds ago is gone, replaced by pure need. 

Stringing her arms around your neck, she tugs you closer. On her lap now, she runs her hands up and down your thighs, looking up at you, her eyes fixed on your lips as your faces inch closer. 

“I missed you,” She breathes, her lips ghosting your mouth with proximity. 

A heartbeat forms in your core, warm heat spreading in your belly as she leans in, your mouths finally meeting.

It starts off soft and intimate as you explore each other, becoming accustomed to the feeling of being pressed together again. But gradually, as your hands roam, cold touches under hoodies, it becomes more aggressive, messier.

Alysa starts kneading your ass as you tighten your legs, pressing your core to her abs. Her taste is familiar to you, comforting even in the peak of heat, and you fucking ravish in the way it’s coming back to you. By now, the kiss is rough and desperate as you grip her hair, trying to pull her even closer if that’s possible. But quickly, you're pushed slightly away by your girlfriend, tilting your head back, nipping at your throat now.

Scrambling up, you pull her with you, your mouths locking once again as you lead her through the metal door in the center of the patio.

“Pretty eager there, princess,” She chuckles.

“Shut up,” You reply, molding your bodies together on the steps, halfway down the stairwell.

The lewd sound of your mouths coming together, spit combining, echoes through the dimly lit staircase. The sound alone sends an ache through you, dragging her down the stairs faster.

You slowly make your way to your shared bedroom, and you push her onto the bed and crawl on top after.

“Keep this on,” You say, motioning towards the medal through huffs of breath as you kiss your way down her torso underneath her sweatshirt. 

She just nods in response, her eyebrows knit together in pleasure as you get closer and closer to where she needs you most. Her pants already long gone, Alysa pulls her sweatshirt over her head, giving you a full view of her. Finally. The milky expanse of her skin is on display above you, her stomach as smooth and as free of imperfections as you remember it, and her nipples are hard in the cold air. God, she’s perfect.

Your strong hands grip her thighs, her waist, her ribs, and you realize she’s practically quivering, waiting for you to touch her properly. You brush your fingers against her damp panties, and you feel a pull on your hair. Looking up, her eyes are slammed shut, mouth wide open as soft whimpers escape, begging for more. And happily, you give it.

Without even bothering to pull them off, you just push her panties to the side, swiping a finger through her wet folds. A high-pitched moan comes out of her mouth. You dip the tips of two of your fingers into her entrance, watching as her eyes flutter a bit before once again slamming closed. Pushing a little further, you wait for her to get adjusted before you begin pumping. 

The conference room smelled faintly like coffee and printer ink. There were half-finished drinks on the table, laptops open, papers scattered across the polished wood like everyone had forgotten where they’d started the conversation.

Your producer, Marco, was mid-sentence, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head in the way he always did when he was explaining something technical.

“I’m just saying the arrangement could breathe a little more in the second verse,” he said thoughtfully. “We could pull the drums back and let the vocal carry—”

You nodded slowly, following the thought. “That’s what I was thinking too. The song works best when it feels… simple. Like it’s not trying to prove anything.”

Your label rep was scribbling notes. Someone else was typing something into their laptop. Across the table, your manager, Elise, was half listening and half scrolling through something on her phone.

“Well,” Elise cut in suddenly, “speaking of things not trying to prove anything—did you see the program?”

You frowned slightly, still mentally inside the arrangement Marco was describing.

“What program?” you asked absently.

Elise didn’t answer right away. Instead she leaned forward, placing her phone on the table and sliding it toward you.

“You know,” she said lightly, like she was dropping something small into the conversation. “The Grand Prix of Figure Skating.”

Marco paused mid-thought.

“Figure skating?” he asked.

Elise nodded, still watching you. “Alysa Liu,” she said.

The name floated past your attention like background noise.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” you said vaguely, turning back to Marco. “So if we strip the instrumentation down—”

“She skated to your song.”

That made you pause. Not dramatically. Not like the room stopped spinning. Just enough that your attention flickered for a second before drifting back to Marco again.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s cool.”

You meant it, too. It wasn’t unusual for athletes to use music from popular artists. You’d heard your songs in commercials before, in movie trailers, even once at a baseball game where the sound system distorted the entire chorus beyond recognition. You expected this to be the same thing.

A nice coincidence. Background noise.

Marco was already continuing his point about arrangement choices. “But if the piano carries the emotional shift there—”

Elise sighed quietly. You didn’t notice. Not until her phone slid another inch across the table and stopped directly in front of you. The screen was already playing.

You glanced down without thinking.

Just a quick look.

Just long enough to see a flash of ice, a sweep of movement, a camera angle shifting across the rink. Then the broadcast zoomed in.

And the world sort of… paused.

The camera caught Alysa mid-glide, the music swelling behind her. Your music. But it sounded different here.

Larger.

The arena acoustics gave the piano a deep, echoing quality you’d never heard before, the opening chords stretching across the rink like they belonged there all along.

Alysa’s face filled the frame.

You had seen her before, maybe from some YouTube short in passing. But you had never actually watched her skate. Not like this.

The camera pulled back as she pushed off across the ice, and suddenly the room around you faded into something distant and unimportant.

Your song was about simple things. About choosing joy deliberately, even when the world insisted on turning everything into pressure or expectation. You’d written it late one night after realizing how easy it was to forget that happiness wasn’t supposed to feel like a performance.

You wrote it sitting at your piano in sweatpants with the window open and the city quiet outside.

Now it was filling an arena in Nagoya, Japan.

And Alysa Liu was skating to it like she understood every single word.

Her movement wasn’t dramatic in the way some skating programs were. There wasn’t the heavy theatricality that sometimes turned routines into stories you could barely follow.

Instead there was a lightness to her skating that felt… unforced.

Like she wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything.

Every edge looked easy, every transition flowing into the next movement without hesitation. When she landed her first jump, she didn’t even pause to check herself. She just continued across the ice, the rhythm of the program carrying her forward.

And she was smiling.

Not the polite smile athletes sometimes gave when they knew the cameras were watching.

A real one.

The kind that crept into the corners of her eyes and stayed there.

You felt something strange in your chest watching it.

Like the meaning of the song had slipped out of your hands and turned into something bigger than what you’d originally written.

On the ice, Alysa spun through the center of the rink, the piano building behind her.

The crowd was quiet in that way audiences get when they realize they’re watching something special.

You barely registered the people in the conference room around you leaning forward to watch your reaction.

You were too busy watching the way Alysa’s movements matched the music.

There was a moment near the end where she slowed, gliding across the ice with her arms open slightly like she was letting the sound of the final verse carry her.

Then the last jump. Clean. Effortless.

When the music ended, Alysa stood there for a second, breathing hard, her face flushed with the kind of joy that looked almost disbelieving.

The arena exploded into applause.

You watched as she laughed softly, covering her mouth for a second like she was trying to process what had just happened.

Then she lowered her hands and soaked it in.

Not in a dramatic way. Just standing there, smiling at the crowd like she had finally found her way back to something she loved. The video ended. The phone screen went dark.

And suddenly you were back in the conference room again.

Marco was staring at you. Elise was trying not to grin. Someone at the far end of the table was openly smirking. You cleared your throat.

“Wow,” you said casually, leaning back in your chair like nothing unusual had just happened. “That was… nice.”

No one said anything.

You adjusted your jacket sleeve and looked toward Elise.

“Well,” you added, forcing a small shrug, “that’s really sweet. We should probably send her some flowers or something. Like a congratulations.”

Marco burst out laughing. Elise covered her mouth, trying and failing to hide her amusement.

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Oh nothing,” Elise said. “You just looked like you forgot how to breathe for a second.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

You shook your head dismissively and stood up, gathering your notebook.

“Well anyway,” you said briskly, “good for her. That was a beautiful program.”

You headed toward the door before anyone could continue the conversation.

Behind you, Elise’s voice followed.

“Try not to watch it twenty more times tonight.”

You waved a hand over your shoulder.

“As if.”

—

Later that evening, your apartment was quiet. You sat on the couch with your laptop open, the glow of the screen lighting the room softly. You told yourself you were just curious. Just one more watch. You pressed play.

The music began again.

And as Alysa stepped onto the ice, smiling like the whole world had suddenly become lighter, you felt that same strange, quiet pull in your chest.

The way she moved. The ease in her skating.

The freedom in the way she carried herself across the rink, like the pressure that had once pushed her away from the sport had finally disappeared.

When she finished the program, laughing softly as the crowd roared around her, you realized something uncomfortable.

You were completely, hopelessly captivated.

And you hadn’t even met her yet.

---

By the time the Olympic Village in Milan fills with athletes, journalists, and camera crews, Alysa Liu has already gotten used to the noise.

It’s different from the quiet focus of training, where the rink is cold and nearly empty and every sound echoes against the boards. The Olympics are the opposite of that. Everything is louder. Brighter. More crowded. Every hallway seems to have a microphone waiting somewhere, and every conversation is just one step away from turning into a headline.

Most athletes look a little overwhelmed by it.

Alysa doesn’t.

She’s leaning against a wall in the media corridor with her arms loosely crossed, still in her team jacket, her hair pulled back in the casual way she prefers when she’s not on the ice. Around her, reporters move in small groups between interview stations, carrying equipment and whispering last-minute questions to each other.

She looks relaxed enough that it almost feels like she’s just waiting for a friend instead of being in the middle of the largest sporting event on the planet.

Her teammate Amber nudges her with an elbow.

“You’re way too chill,” Amber says under her breath.

Alysa shrugs. “It’s just talking.”

“You say that now,” Amber replies, glancing toward the camera setup ahead of them. “Wait until they start asking weird stuff.”

Alysa tilts her head slightly, watching another athlete finish an interview nearby. “Weird stuff is the fun part.”

Amber snorts. “Of course you’d say that.”

The truth is that Alysa doesn’t mind interviews. At least not the lighter ones. The ones where the reporters are trying to show personality instead of dissecting every technical detail of her programs.

After stepping away from skating for two years and coming back on her own terms, she’s learned something important about the sport: the less seriously she takes the outside pressure, the better she performs.

And right now, despite the cameras and the Olympic banners hanging everywhere, she feels strangely calm.

Her name gets called from across the corridor.

“Alysa!” A production assistant waves her over.

She pushes herself off the wall and walks toward the interview setup with an easy stride, offering a quick nod to Amber as she passes.

“Watch,” she says quietly. “Weird stuff.”

The interviewer waiting for her is a cheerful woman in a bright blue jacket, holding a small tablet where a list of questions is clearly visible. “Alright, Alysa,” the interviewer says with a smile as the camera operator gives a thumbs-up. “We’re doing a quick rapid-fire round. Just for fun.”

Alysa nods. “Okay.”

The red light on the camera flicks on.

“First question,” the interviewer says. “Pasta or pizza?”

Alysa barely pauses. “Pizza.”

“Video games or movies?”

Alysa grins. “Movies.”

More questions follow in the same rhythm. Favorite song. Favorite post-competition meal. Favorite place she’s traveled. None of them take more than a second to answer.

Then the interviewer glances down at the tablet again and smiles slightly, like she already knows this one will get a reaction. “Alright,” she says. “Celebrity crush?”

Alysa doesn’t hesitate. “Y/N,” she says immediately. “One hundred percent.”

The interviewer’s eyebrows lift. “Oh?”

Alysa nods, completely unbothered. “Yeah.”

“Like… the singer?” the interviewer asks, slightly surprised. “The one whose song you’re skating to this season?”

Alysa laughs lightly. “Yeah, yeah. That one.”

The interviewer leans forward a little, clearly entertained now. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” Alysa replies easily. “She’s incredible. I think she’s really talented. And the song’s amazing.”

“Well,” The interviewer says, clearly leaning into the moment now, “what would you say to her if she’s watching this?”

Alysa tilts her head, thinking for a second.

The truth is she hadn’t expected that question.

But she’s never been someone who hesitates when something funny pops into her head. Never one to shy away from the perfect opportunity to shoot her shot, take chances.

So she shrugs slightly and looks straight at the camera.

“Hey,” she says casually, like she’s talking to a friend instead of a global audience. “Thanks for the flowers.” Alysa grins, continuing without missing a beat. “You should come watch me skate to your song.”

Someone behind the camera makes an exaggerated “ooooh” sound. The interviewer laughs hard.

“Well,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s one way to shoot your shot.”

Alysa laughs too, waving a hand dismissively like it’s not a big deal. “Just saying.”

The camera light turns off. The interviewer lowers the tablet. “That was great,” she says.

Alysa shrugs again, the smile still lingering. “Glad I could help.”

She steps away from the interview area and walks back toward the corridor where Amber is waiting.

Amber is already grinning.

“Oh my god,” she says immediately. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What?”

“You literally just invited your celebrity crush to the Olympics.”

Alysa rolls her eyes. “I didn’t invite her anywhere.”

“I just watched you do it.”

“It was a joke.”

Amber folds her arms, unconvinced. “Sure it was.”

Alysa leans back against the wall again, unconcerned. “Relax,” she says. “She’s not watching Olympic interviews.”

Amber laughs. “You have no idea how the internet works.”

Alysa shrugs. “Even if she did see it, it’s not that serious.” But if she’s being honest, the thought does flicker through her mind for a second.

Because when the flowers arrived back in December after the Grand Prix short program, she had been completely caught off guard.

They were waiting in her hotel room after practice, sitting on the desk with a small handwritten card.

Congratulations on the win. Your program was beautiful. – Y/N

She’d stared at the card for a solid minute before laughing quietly to herself.

Then she immediately took a picture and sent it to her friends.

Look who wants me.

Her group chat exploded. “Oh my god she wants you soooo bad,” one of them replied instantly.

Alysa leaned into the joke. “Obviously.”

In reality, she had kept the card. Tucked carefully into the side pocket of her training bag where it wouldn’t get bent. She tells herself it’s just because it’s a cool story. Nothing more.

Back in the Olympic Village corridor, Amber is still shaking her head, mumbling about regretting the interview, to which Alysa just shrugs.

And honestly, she doesn’t think much about it after that.

Practice is in an hour. Her coach is already texting her about jump layouts. The schedule for the next few days is packed.

The interview disappears into the background noise of Olympic media coverage.

At least for her.

—

Later that evening, somewhere else in the world, you’re sitting in a dim studio lounge with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of you.

Your manager is standing by the window scrolling through her phone.

You’re halfway through a conversation about tour logistics when she suddenly stops talking mid-sentence.

“…wait.”

You glance up. “What?”

She looks at the screen again. “Oh my god.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What happened?”

She turns the phone toward you. “You need to see this.”

You sigh slightly. “If this is another TikTok of some AI dog dancing—”

“Just watch it.”

You lean forward reluctantly. The video begins playing.

And about ten seconds later, when Alysa Liu looks directly into the camera and casually says your name like it’s the most obvious answer in the world—

You stop breathing for a moment.

Your manager slowly lowers the phone and watches your face.

“Well,” she says. “That seems promising.”

And somewhere in Milan, Alysa Liu has absolutely no idea what she just started.

---

By the end of the first day after the interview airs, you already know something has gotten out of hand.

Not catastrophically out of hand, not the kind of scandal that sends publicists scrambling to issue statements or deletes social media posts within the hour. It’s subtler than that. It’s the sort of thing that spreads through the internet in a way that’s half teasing and half conspiratorial, like a rumor people want to believe in because it’s fun.

The first sign is your phone.

Your notifications start climbing before you even realize why. At first it’s just a handful of tags on social media, then a dozen, then hundreds. Clips of Alysa’s interview start appearing everywhere—short snippets of her leaning casually toward the camera and saying your name with complete certainty.

Celebrity crush? Y/N, one hundred percent.

You scroll past the first few posts with a faintly amused expression. The internet has always loved connecting dots that may or may not exist. It’s practically a sport.

But then the tags keep coming. Edits of Alysa’s program set to your song. Side-by-side clips of the Grand Prix performance and the interview.

By the second day, people are writing things like:

“she needs to go to Milan.”

“Imagine if she shows up at the Olympics.”

“This would be the greatest crossover event in history.”

You close the app and tell yourself it will burn out quickly. Internet attention spans are famously short. But the real problem isn’t the internet. It’s the real world.

Two nights later, you’re leaving a quiet dinner in Los Angeles with a couple of friends when the restaurant door opens and a cluster of photographers immediately shifts toward you like birds changing direction mid-flight.

That part isn’t new. Paparazzi have been orbiting your life long enough that you’ve learned to treat them like background noise.

What’s new is the question shouted across the sidewalk as you step toward the waiting car.

“Are you going to Milan!?”

You pause half a second before continuing.

Another voice chimes in. “Are you going to see Alysa Liu at the Olympics?”

You don’t answer. You slide into the car with a polite, neutral smile that doesn’t confirm anything. The door shuts. The car pulls away.

Your friend beside you raises an eyebrow. “That was… specific.”

You stare out the window for a moment. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “Apparently I’m part of Olympic coverage now.”

The next day, it happens again in a completely different setting.

You’re at a small cafe when a young girl and her father approach you. She was a big fan and was just wanting to take a quick photo. Most of the conversation was normal. Music questions. Tour questions. A few shy compliments about your songs.

When you bend down for the photo, you smile warmly at the camera and just as you were about to stand up, she asks something else.

“Are you going to Milan?” she asks immediately.

You blink.

“For the Olympics,” she clarifies quickly. “I’m going with my dad to watch the figure skaters. If you’re there maybe we’ll see you.”

Her expression is so hopeful that for a second you almost laugh. Not because it’s ridiculous. Because it’s… oddly sweet.

“Well,” you say gently, “that sounds like an amazing trip.”

“But are you going?”

You hesitate just long enough to avoid promising anything. “Maybe,” you say with a small smile. “You never know.”

She nods like that’s the best answer she could have gotten.

When she walks away, Elise—your manager—leans closer. “You are not helping,” she murmurs.

You shrug. “I didn’t want to crush her dreams.”

—

By February 13th, five days after the interview aired, the situation has escalated from amusing to mildly ridiculous.

You’re sitting in the studio lounge again, the same one where you first saw the clip of Alysa’s interview.

Your laptop is open on the coffee table in front of you. A half-written melody loops softly through the speakers, something you’ve been tinkering with for hours without really committing to a direction.

Across the room, Elise stands near the desk flipping through a printed schedule.

You stare at the laptop screen for another moment before leaning back with a sigh. “Can we just book me a flight to Milan so this can be done with?”

Elise slowly lowers the papers. “…what?”

You gesture vaguely in the direction of the world.

“This,” you say. “All of this.”

She stares at you like she’s trying to decide if you’re joking. “You realize,” she says slowly, “that if we do that, you’re just fanning the flames.”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

“This will get bigger,” she continues, pacing slightly now. “There will be rumors, speculation, think pieces. People will assume—”

“I know,” you interrupt calmly.

She stops pacing. “And you’re okay with that?”

You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Honestly?” you say. “I kind of just want to see the program in person.”

Elise stares. “Are you serious.”

“I mean,” you continue thoughtfully, “I’ve never been to the Olympics before either.”

“That is not the point.”

“And,” you add casually, “it would be good publicity for the tour.”

Elise narrows her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.” She watches you for another moment, her expression slowly shifting from professional concern to something more suspicious. Then she sighs. “You just want to go because you think she’s pretty.”

You gasp, placing a hand dramatically over your chest. “That is an outrageous accusation.”

Elise does not look amused.

You hold the pose for another two seconds before dropping it.

“Okay,” you say. “… maybe she is pretty. So what?!” You tilt your head slightly, offering your most convincing smile. “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

She groans loudly, dragging a hand down her face. “That line has ruined more careers than it has helped.”

You grin. “It hasn’t ruined mine.”

Elise stares at the ceiling like she’s asking the universe for patience.

“Please,” you continue, leaning forward slightly now. “I just want to go see it. I got an invite from an Olympian. I can’t just ignore that.”

“She did not personally invite you.”

“She did on camera.”

“That is not the same thing.” You shrug. “Still counts.”

Elise exhales slowly through her nose, clearly weighing the consequences in her head. You watch her carefully. Then she sighs again—louder this time—and tips her head back toward the ceiling. And you know you’ve won. You can’t help the small, satisfied “yay” that escapes under your breath.

Elise immediately points a finger at you without even looking. “Don’t celebrate yet.” But she’s already reaching for her laptop. “I’ll book the flight,” she mutters.

You sit up straighter. “Thank you.”

“I think she skates in… three days,” Elise continues, scrolling through the Olympic schedule. “Which means if you leave tomorrow you’ll get there in time.”

You nod, trying very hard to look normal about this development. “Perfect.”

Elise glances up at you again. “If this turns into a media circus, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s fair.”

She shakes her head and goes back to the booking screen.

You lean back on the couch again, turning toward your laptop.

The unfinished melody still loops softly through the speakers.

You rest your fingers on the keyboard, pretending to focus on the song.

But you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

Because somewhere in Milan, Alysa Liu is preparing to skate to your music again.

And in three days, you’ll be sitting in the crowd watching her do it.

———

The way I need a word limit and i dont know anything about figure skating LOOL so im sorry if it sounds weird idk what a grand prix is 😭 bUT ALSO I ACTUALLT GET TO THEM MEETING IN NEXT PART DONT WORRY

———

Tag list :P

———

The Olympic Village was way louder than you expected.

Music blasted somewhere down the hallway, athletes laughed in a dozen languages, and the smell of cafeteria pasta drifted through the air.

You sat cross legged on Alysa’s bed while she paced around the room, still wearing her Team USA jacket.

“Okay but listen” - Alysa said, waving her hands dramatically - “I swear the medal feels heavier every time I pick it up.”

You snorted. - “That’s because you keep showing it to literally everyone.”

She turned and pointed the medal at you like evidence. - “Excuse me. If you won Olympic gold you’d do the same thing.”

Your heart did that annoying little flip it always did when she looked at you like that, grinning, hair messy, eyes bright with excitement. - “Maybe” - you admitted.

Alysa dropped onto the bed beside you, shoulder bumping yours. The medal clinked against the zipper of her jacket.

“Seriously though” - she said, softer now. - “I’m glad you’re here. The Olympics would be kinda boring without your skating”

You stared at the floor so she wouldn’t see your face heat up.

If only she knew how much that sentence meant to you.

You had been crushing on Alysa for months, since training camp, maybe even earlier, but you kept it locked away like a secret routine you never showed anyone.

Alysa suddenly leaned over and nudged your arm.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Dangerous” - she said immediately.

You laughed despite yourself.

Then she grabbed her medal again and held it up between you.

“Okay important question” - she said. “When we’re old and retired and telling people about the Olympics… do you think anyone will believe the amount of dumb stuff i did here?” - You laugh. - “Oh, absolutely not.”

She grinned back at you. - “Good” - Alysa said. - “That means we’ll have to come back and make even better stories.”

⸻

The next morning the Olympic Village felt calmer.

Snow fell lightly outside the glass windows of the dining hall, and athletes shuffled in wearing puffy jackets and sleepy expressions.

You were halfway through a salad when someone dropped into the chair across from you.

“Morning” - Alysa said.

Your brain immediately short circuited a little.

Her hair was still messy from sleep, and she had the gold medal hanging around her neck again like she refused to take it off.

“Seriously? You’re wearing it to breakfast?” - you asked.

She sighed - “I earned it.”

You couldn’t even argue with that.

Before you could say anything else, Isabeau slid into the seat next to you and glanced between the two of you with a suspicious grin.

“Ohhh” - she said really slowly. Alysa frowned. - “What?”

She pointed between you and Alysa. - “You two are very obvious.” - Your stomach dropped.

“What?” - you said way too quickly. Isabeau leaned forward. - “The way you look at her.”

Alysa blinked. - “Wait, what?”- “nothing, she’s just delusional” - you tried to cool it off.

“I’m just saying” - she added while walking away. - “if you’re gonna have a crush on an Olympic champion you should at least be subtle about it.”

Alysa turned toward you slowly. - “You have a crush on an Olympic champion?”

You stared at your plate like it had suddenly become the most interesting object in the universe.

“Of course not” - you muttered.

Alysa watched you for a second… then shrugged. - “Ok. People say weird stuff.”

You exhaled quietly, relief mixing with disappointment.

⸻

Later that afternoon you and Alysa walked through the Olympic Village together.

She waved to basically everyone.

Snowboarders. Skiers. Speed skaters.

“Do you know literally every athlete here?” - you asked.

“I’m very likable” - she said confidently.

You rolled your eyes.

Just then a tall skater from another country jogged up beside her.

“Hey, Alysa! Amazing skate yesterday!”

Alysa lit up instantly. - “Thanks!”

They started chatting excitedly about jumps and finals and training camps while you walked beside them quietly.

Then the other skater laughed and lightly bumped Alysa’s shoulder.

“Seriously though, we should hang out tonight. Some of us are going to a celebration thing.”

Alysa grinned. - “Yeah, maybe!”

Something weird twisted in your chest. But you told yourself it was nothing.

But when the skater walk away, Alysa glanced at you. - “Everything fine?” - “Yeah.”

“You look like someone stole your medal.” - “technically you did” - “but I’m fine” - you insisted.

She studied you for another second, then suddenly stopped walking. - “ugh, what?” - “You’re jealous.”

You almost tripped.

“I am not.”

Her grin slowly grew.

“Oh my god.”

“What??”

“You are.”

You groaned and started walking again. “Stop it.”

But Alysa jogged to catch up, walking backward in front of you.

“Wait wait wait” - she said. - “Who are you jealous of?”

“No one.”

“Is it the snowboarder from yesterday?”

“No.”

“The speed skater?”

“No!”

She stares at you like she was solving a puzzle.

“Then who-“

“Can we talk about literally anything else?”

She stopped walking. And you stopped too.

For a second neither of you said anything.

Snow drifted around between the Olympic dorm buildings.

Then Alysa spoke again, softer this time.

“Is it me?”

Your heart nearly stopped.

“What?”

“Are you jealous” - she said slowly - “because people keep trying to steal your best friend?”

“Yeah…” - you admitted.

She smiled. The joking smile she used with everyone else.

“Good” - she said. You blinked. - “Good?”

She stepped a little closer.

“I was worried you didn’t care.”

“I care” - you said quickly.

Alysa tilted her head.

“How much?”

The question hung in the air.

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure she could hear it.

You were about to open your mouth-

But a group of athletes suddenly ran past yelling about some event happening in the main building.

Alysa laughed and stepped back.

“Let’s go” - she said, grabbing your sleeve. - “We should go see what’s happening.”

⸻

You followed her toward the noise, heart still racing.

The celebration in the main building was loud music, athletes shouting, someone starting a chant in another language, but you slipped out after a while. It was too crowded, too loud, and your brain kept replaying the moment from earlier.

“How much do you care?”

You leaned against the railing outside, watching the snow drift through the lights.

“Hey.”

You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize Alysa’s voice.

“You run away” - she said, stepping beside you.

“Just needed air.”

She nodded, leaning next to you. For a minute neither of you spoke. The music thumped faintly through the walls behind you.

Then she held her medal up again, letting it swing slightly.

“You know” - she said - “everyone keeps asking what the best part of the Olympics was.”

You smiled a little. - “Winning gold?”

“Okay yeah that’s second.”

You looked at her.

“What’s first then?”

She shrugged, but her voice was softer than usual.

“Being here with you.”

“Alysa-“

“I’m serious” - she said quickly. - “Everyone thinks the medal is the big thing. But honestly? Half the time I was just excited to be with you on rink, see you skate.”

The snow crunched softly as she shifted closer.

“You were there for everything” - she added. “Training. Nerves. All of it.”

You swallowed.

“You done the same things for me.”

“I did” - she said. - “But that’s not what I mean.”

“Alysa…”

She looked at you directly now.

“Before we got here” - she said - “when I asked how much you care… you were going to say something.”

You start panic.

“…Yeah.”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to” - she said gently.

But somehow that made it harder not to.

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

“This is going to ruin everything.”

“Why would it ruin anything?”

“Because” - you said, voice barely above a whisper. - “you’re my best friend. And if I tell you the truth and it’s weird then I lose that.”

Alysa frowned slightly.

“Lose me? That’s not happening.”

You took a deep breath.

“I have a crush on you.”

The words fell into the cold air between you.

For a second Alysa just stared at you.

Your stomach dropped.

“See?” - you said quickly. - “That’s exactly the reaction I was worried about. We can just forget-“

Then she started laughing.

“Alysa?” - you said, confused.

She covered her face for a second.

“Oh my god.”

“What?!”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

Your brain completely froze.

“What?…”

She dropped her hands and looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out for months.”

“Figure what out?”

“If you liked me.”

You blinked.

“Wait.”

She grinned nervously.

“Yeah. Wait.”

“You… like me?”

Alysa rolled her eyes dramatically.

“You’re the worst Sherlock ever.”

Your heart was racing so hard you thought you might actually pass out.

“So…what does that mean?” - you asked.

She stepped a little closer.

Her colored hair glittered in the light.

“Well, It means” - she said - “my Olympic gold medal is cool…”

She reached down and gently took your hands.

“…but this might actually be the best thing that happened here.”

“So” - she added with a small smile - “can I kiss you now? Or do you need another twenty minutes to panic about it?”

“Definitely panicking.”

“Fair.”

But she didn’t let go of your hands.

And a second later, when she leaned in and kissed you softly in the snow outside, you realized something.

Maybe the Olympics weren’t the biggest moment of your life after all.

"and you're sure your parents aren't coming home soon?"

"yes, ellie," you rolled your eyes with your lips pulled into a smile. "now, remember what I told you?"

you laid back on your soft, white sheets and looked up at her. her auburn locks were tussled from when you'd pulled them, there were beads of sweat rolling down her skin although the fan was on, and her hazel eyes had been darkened a shade by lust.

"yeah. relax," she inhaled, exhaled, and let her shoulders drop, "get, get on top of you," she placed her hands on either side of your body, "and do... f—foreplay?"

"good job." you cooed, dragging out the vowels in the words and chuckling a little as you said them the way you would when praising a pet.

"so I kiss you now, right?"

"right, baby. and you don't have to worry about not being nervous, just do what feels right to you."

she let out a relaxed sigh at that and leaned in to gently press her lips to yours. she moaned at the feeling, and you smiled against her mouth then let your fingers wander into her hair.

a little more confident now, she moved her right set of fingers to your thigh and squeezed the plush, doughy skin there.

"can I touch you more?" she pulled away to ask quickly.

you nodded, even more turned on by how respectful she was being. honestly, all it took was ellie breathing in your direction the right way to get you worked up—but she didn't have to know that.

the hand on your thigh danced across your skin until it was slipping under the hem of your shirt carefully. you gasped as the feeling of her freezing fingers scorched the much warmer skin of your stomach, and she took that as an opportunity to get a little bolder, to slip her tongue into your mouth.

you got more impatient, and ellie got more bold, so it wasn't long before she was slipping your panties off, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy, and nearly completely free of her nervousness. it was hard to stay flustered when she couldn't stop thinking about how you were hot, in charge, and still whimpering under her touch.

"so fuckin' pretty, thank you for letting me touch you," she breathed out shakily, parting your folds and quickly slipping a finger in with ease because of how soaked you were.

she was moving to the next stages faster now, and your brain, pussy, and mouth were struggling to keep the pace. "ellie. slow down," you mewled.

her eyes gleamed as she watched your clear fluid gather around her finger, and her underwear started getting damper by the second. "sorry, need you s' bad." she said even though she really wasn't.

she started moving her digit at a slow pace and muttering soft "is this okay," "are you feeling nice," and "am I doing good"s, but after a while she started pumping into you with no hesitation.

she started with one finger, then there were two, and somewhere between her skilled thrusts and your whiny moans she'd inserted a third. you were so close and right there and cumming and then—

you whined at the loss of her long fingers as she pulled out.

"ellie, I was just about to cum. for someone new at this you sure are fucking annoying, don't tease me," you commanded shakily.

she stuck her fingers in her mouth to taste you, and laughed at how cute you were when you were mad. "I know I know princess, I'm sorry, but can I... try something?"

"try what?" you narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

she shuffled out of her embarrassingly damp navy boxers and revealed her cunt, the skin there glistening from her slick. "wanna try feeling you..." she trailed off. she was way more confident than when you'd begun, but judging by the way she was squirming under your gaze and twitching her nervousness had resurfaced.

you nearly came on the spot from the sight of her and the vision her words had crafted, but regained your composure before you got too worked up and nodded.

"yes. are you sure though? I don't want it to be too much, only if you're ok—" you were cut off by her settling on top of you, both of her legs on either side of yours.

her eyes rolled to the back of her head as soon as her clit made contact with yours, and you moaned at the feeling of her sensitive bundle of nerves pressing against yours.

she rolled her hips once slowly.

"ell—ie! I can't—" you sobbed.

"aww, is it too much? you sure?" she moved back and forth then back again and felt your pussy twitch against hers. you gripped the bicep closest to you for support, digging your fingers in as you tried to hold back your moans and whimpers and filthy whines.

you only nodded in response. the feeling of her against you made it nearly impossible to think, and she was so hot. when did she get so confident? what did she even ask you again?

"fuckkk," another grind, "your body seems to disagree with you baby. lit's twitchin' against mine like you're gonna finish."

"are you arguing with me williams?" you questioned firmly after letting out a borderline pornographic moan.

"n—no!" she recoiled back into herself and got even wetter from how dominant you'd sounded, and you giggled a bit.

"is that all it takes? you, mm, folded under no pressure els."

she glared at you, but only for a few seconds before her eyes drooped back down into their familar "please fuck me" look.

"don't look at me like that, els. this's, mmm, right there! your fault for being so rude." you got out over the wet noises coming from your cunts and mutual moans.

that familiar coil in your stomach started threatening to unravel again, and by the way ellie was whining like a bitch in heat you could tell she was close too. she bucked your hips down, and you bucked yours up on accident, and you both moaned at the feeling.

"ngh, gonna cum! fuck, you're so good els." you managed to get out between little whimpers and whines.

"say, say that again." she groaned.

"y—you're so good els?" you said cautiously, confused on exactly what she wanted you to repeat.

"I'm—oh my god, cum with me, please, need you so bad," she sobbed.

and so you did. youe mouth opened in a silent scream as your pussy spasmed, and her release gushed all over you. the combination of her continuing to roll against you and her moans had you reeling even further, and it wasn't long before you were letting out little "ah, ah, ah"s in sync with her grinds.

when you'd finally, finally both come down, the sheets were wet, your legs and thighs were a mess, and the only sounds reverberating through the room were your pants and shaky inhales.

˙⋆✮ Sevika was possessive, there was no doubt about it, you were hers and only hers and anyone who thought otherwise would simply get proven wrong. She only had to stare somebody down or pull you closer by the hips and their stars would disappear.

Her possessiveness was physical. She never got too jealous when you spoke to others unless it was very obviously flirtatious. Often she wouldn't have to step in as you'd always end the conversation the minute anyone got a little too friendly, which was why she never felt the need to hover much or keep an eye on you. Sevika knew you could handle yourself and that you were fiercely loyal.

˙⋆✮ Your own possessive tendencies over Sevika however, were completely different. From childhood trauma of having basic needs withheld and living in Zaun where being robbed was a frequent problem, yoh had a major issue with being protective over what you claimed as yours. That included your beautiful girl Sevika.

Despite being highly aware of people flirting with you, Sevika could never quite grasp when other Zaunite women were flirting with her. She perceived every interaction as friendly because there was no chance in hell anybody was openly trying to flirt with her when they knew she was taken. Right?

Wrong. The anger crawled under your skin each time a woman was brave enough to touch what was yours. Was the bartender simply patting her forearm in a polite gesture? Or was she trying to worm her way between you both slowly and steal your woman? You weren't waiting to find out. A week later the poor girl had quit and wouldn't tell anyone how her nose got broken...

˙⋆✮ It was a trait you hated. Logically you knew that even if another woman flirted with Sevika she wouldn't leave you. She loved you with every fiber of her being, just as you did when it came to her. But the mere idea of someone trying to forcefully take what was yours? It wasn't something you would risk, especially not when it came to perhaps the most important thing in your life. Sevika.