cassie༘⋆

Ellie Williams.

Your brother’s best friend. She’d been orbiting your life for as long as you could remember—sometimes barely noticeable, sometimes all you could see.

The one who never knocked. Who slid the door open like she owned the place, who kicked her sneakers off in the hallway, trailing dirt and laughter in her wake. Backpack slinging over her shoulder, controller dangling from her fingers, her voice already spilling down the corridor before she was even in the room.

You were younger, two years that mattered so much back then. Enough to keep you at the periphery, tolerated but not invited. You’d linger in the doorway of his room, pretending you had a reason to be there. Pretending you weren’t just there to ogle her.

Thirteen, your hair in a crooked braid, still fumbling with eyeliner and chipped nail polish when you first met her. The door opened and there she was—fifteen, all elbows and knees and freckled cheeks, auburn hair pulled back, sitting cross-legged with her whole body leaning toward the screen.

“Yo,” she muttered without looking up, thumbs flying, the glow of pixels flashing against her soft jaw. “Who's this?”

“My sister,” your brother said, shoving another chip into his mouth. “Ignore her.”

And then she turned. Sharp green eyes, a curl of her mouth, one dimple flashing.

“Ellie.”

It took less than a second before her head went back to the screen. A name she tossed like it was nothing, never imagining how much it stuck, how it pressed into your chest like a brand. That dizzy ache, that quickening pulse—you felt it before you even had a name for what it meant.

At first, it was harmless, dumb. A crush you hid in notebooks and in the way you lingered too long. You noticed everything: the way her socked foot tapped against the carpet, the way she cursed when she lost, the way her laughter cracked open the room.

But the crush grew with you.

At school, you saw her across the cafeteria. Always sitting with your brother, slouched in her chair like the entire world bored her, spinning an apple on the table while a girl leaned just a little too close.

You heard whispers—Ellie Williams broke hearts. Ellie Williams had a reputation. Ellie Williams snuck out behind the gym with a girl.

And every time, your stomach knotted. Because you could see it: the hand brushing hers, the tilt of a smile, the bite of a lip. You could imagine it so easily it was unbearable.

By then your fantasies weren’t innocent anymore. Not daydreams of sitting next to her with a controller in your hand too, but of her fingers curling under your chin, of her pressing you into the mattress, of that same laughter breaking against your mouth instead of the living room walls. You carried it like a fever.

But somewhere along the way, you weren’t just the little sister anymore. You grew. And you knew exactly how to use it in your favour. 

It started with the shorts.

The heat was merciless that summer you turned fifteen. Air thick enough to choke on, dust motes hanging suspended in the sunbeams cutting through the blinds. You padded barefoot into the kitchen, skin sticky with sweat, cotton shorts clinging to your hips. They were worn soft, the elastic giving just enough to sit high on your waist and ride higher on your thighs with every step.

Ellie was there already, as usual—propped against the counter, soda can sweating in her hand, pretending to look interested in whatever dumb conversation your brother had just abandoned mid-sentence. Her hair was half pulled back messily, a few strands stuck damp against her temple, freckles stark against the flush the heat brought out.

You reached for the cabinet above her head, stretching on your toes to grab the cereal box shoved at the very back. Your shirt lifted as your arms extended, baring a sliver of skin at your waist, the hem grazing up and revealing more the longer you reached. The shorts shifted too, the fabric tugging across the curve of your spine, the seam biting higher with the stretch.

You didn’t even have to look to know she was staring. The charged silence that filled the space between you made you feel it. You let yourself linger, fingertips brushing the cardboard just out of reach, keeping your shirt rucked up, keeping the fabric stretched across you just long enough to test her. 

When you finally glanced back, her eyes were already there—locked on you. On the curve of your ass, the length of your legs as you strained for the box. Then, syrup-sweet, you tossed a look over your shoulder.

“Whatcha staring at?”

It came out casual even when your pulse was racing, heart hammering with the thrill.

Her jaw was tight, soda can frozen halfway to her lips like she’d been caught mid-crime. Her ears burned red, freckles standing out darker across her skin.

“Nothing.”

The word cracked too fast, almost a stutter.

You smirked, plucked the box down, and turned away, satisfied with how your plan had worked.

Then came the towel.

Steam clung to your skin when you stepped out of the bathroom, the house’s warped mirror still fogged behind you. Droplets slid from your hair, tracing the slope of your collarbone, disappearing beneath the knot of white terry cloth barely cinched around your chest. The towel skimmed scandalously high at your thighs, shifting with every step, every sway of your hips as you padded down the hall.

You’d left your door unlocked on purpose. Timed it perfectly, slowing your steps when you heard hers up the stairs.

And sure enough—there she was, walking past at that exact moment.

“Oh—hey.” 

Your voice lifted with feigned surprise, though you’d rehearsed it in your head.

Ellie stopped short, eyes catching on you like a hook snagged in fabric. For one beat too long she was staring shamessly—at the towel damp and clinging, at the shape of your tits pressed tight beneath, nipples hard and visible through the thin cloth. You watched her throat bob, her gaze flicker up too late.

“H-hey.” She muttered, her voice low and husky. Her hands shoved into her jeans pockets, knuckles straining against denim.

You leaned against the doorframe, tilting your hip, letting the towel loosen just enough to slip an inch lower. The corner of your mouth curled, knowing but innocent, inviting without ever saying so.

From the kitchen, your brother’s voice shattered the moment, shouting her name. Ellie tore her eyes away like the contact burned, muttering something that didn’t land, and brushed past you in a rush, the heat of her body grazing yours before vanishing down the hall.

After that, it was constant.

Well, you made it constant.

The little things stretched just far enough to matter. Brushing past her in the kitchen, letting your hand graze hers, lingering against her shoulder when you reached for a glass you didn’t need. Sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, knee angled so it rested lightly against hers. Sprawling across the couch in skirts that threatened to ride up with every shift of your thighs, slow sips from a water bottle, condensation slicking your fingers before you dragged them across your lips—tongue darting out to catch the moisture.

And every time, her eyes betrayed her. No matter how fast she looked away, no matter how sharp her jaw clenched, you saw it. The flash of hunger. The pause before retreat. The way her hand flexed against her thigh like she was physically holding herself back.

Your brother never noticed, too lost in his own noise, his own world. But you noticed. God, you noticed everything. The way Ellie’s laughter clipped short when someone else’s joke made you double over. The way her shoulders went rigid when another guy touched your arm in the cafeteria. The way her mouth opened like she might finally say something, only to snap shut again.

Ellie Williams. Your brother’s best friend. The girl you weren’t supposed to want.

And yet, the older you got, the more impossible it became for her to stop wanting you back.

Your house had been quiet all afternoon, the kind of silence only peaceful when your brother was upstairs. You were stretched across the couch, one leg bent, music thrumming faintly from the speaker on the coffee table. The summer heat clung to your skin, the old fan in the corner doing little to help when the doorbell rang.

Ellie stood there when you opened it.

Older now. Hotter. She wasn’t the lanky fifteen-year-old you’d first met, the one with messy hair and knobby knees trailing after your brother. No—twenty had sharpened her into something else entirely. Her hair was shorter now, cropped above her shoulders, auburn strands catching the light but darker at the roots. 

New ink marked her forearm, black lines of ferns curling around a wide-winged moth, the shading so precise it seemed alive when she moved. The tattoo stretched when she shifted her grip on the comic book in her hand, flexing over muscle that hadn’t been there years ago.

“Thought your brother might kill me if I didn’t give this back,” she said, holding up the old Spider-Man issue with a half-grin.

You stepped aside, the brush of her arm against yours sending heat straight to your chest. She smelled faintly of smoke and cologne, that mix that was always so unmistakably her. She dropped the comic onto the table with a careless flick of her wrist and collapsed onto the couch beside you, spreading out, posture loose and infuriatingly comfortable.

You crouched low between the coffee table and the couch, stretching forward to fish out the remote that had slipped underneath. The cushions pressed against your ribs, shirt falling loose around the neckline as you leaned further. The fabric gaped, collar tugging low enough to bare the soft curve of your tits, nipples brushing faint against the thin cotton with each movement.

You felt the air shift before you even looked up.

Ellie wasn’t watching the television. Her body was still, shoulders rigid, but her eyes—her eyes were locked downward, shameless. Green gone dark, gaze fixed straight into the slip of fabric, drinking in the view like she couldn’t tear herself away. She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, guilty and greedy all at once.

When you straightened, remote in hand, her head snapped up too late. She cleared her throat and tapped her fingers against her knee as if the nervous rhythm could erase the truth of where her eyes had been.

Your lips curved, satisfied, as you muttered. “So… there’s a party Friday.”

Her brow arched, skeptical but interested. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You tipped your head, letting your hair fall across your cheek. “You should come.”

Ellie leaned back, one arm thrown across the back of the couch, the other resting against her thigh. “Depends, your brother going?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as if she hadn’t just pinned you with her stare. “Of course he is.”

She hummed, dragging the sound out slowly. “Then yeah... I guess.” 

Her gaze swept over you again, openly this time. Down the slope of your bare legs, the hem of your shorts, the faint outline of your nipples pressing against your shirt. 

The air between you tightened. She wasn’t the girl you’d crushed on at thirteen anymore. Freckles darker, shoulders broader, her tattoo shifting with every movement, and you couldn’t stop looking at it.

Her grin widened when she noticed your attention. She tilted her arm slightly, “Cool, huh?”

You swallowed, keeping your tone even though your pulse betrayed you. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, mock-offended, eyes glinting. She leaned in closer, elbow brushing your thigh, the scent of her shampoo strong in the warm air. “This took hours, hurt like hell, too. At least tell me it’s impressive.”

You grinned, playing with the hem of your shirt, letting the cotton slip lower on your shoulder. “Well… maybe I need a closer look.”

Her tongue pressed into her cheek as she stretched her arm out toward you. “Go ahead, princess. Judge art up close.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but your fingers still found her wrist, thumb brushing against the edge of the ink. The skin was warm, firm under your touch. The moth’s wings curved when you turned her arm, ferns spiraling up toward her elbow. Ellie’s eyes never left your face, feeling the way you traced the lines.

“It’s… better than not bad,” you admitted finally, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

Ellie’s mouth curved slowly, “Thought so.”

You let her arm go, but the weight of it lingered, the heat of her skin burning against your palm even after. 

“See you at the party, then?” you asked, forcing the words to sound light.

“Sure thing,” Ellie leaned back, green eyes still heavy on you. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,”

That was when the thud of footsteps hit—your brother’s heavy stride coming down. You sat up straighter, tugging your shirt into its original place. Ellie only shifted a little, grin sliding off her mouth as his figure appeared at the bottom step.

He landed in the armchair across from you both, eyes darting between you and Ellie. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned back, arms crossed, mouth set in a flat line. 

“You two good?” he asked finally, flicker of suspicion underneath it.

“Yeah,” Ellie said easily, scratching the back of her neck. “Just returning your comic, thought you’d hunt me down if I kept it any longer.”

He snorted. “Damn right. Don’t trust you with first editions.” His eyes cut toward you briefly, then back to her. “Besides, didn’t think you read that fast.”

Ellie smirked. “Guess I’m smarter than I look.”

“Debatable,” he shot back, though his gaze lingered a beat too long on her position on the couch—on how close she was to you. “Just make sure you don’t start flirting with my sister while you’re at it.”

Ellie’s jaw ticked, the grin still plastered on her lips not quite reaching her eyes now. “She was telling me about the party on Friday."

Your brother leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring her down in that way he always did when he thought he was the authority in the room. “Good. I’m going with her.”

Her eyes flicked to yours before she answered, a quick spark you caught, even if your brother missed it.

“Relax, bro,” she said, casual, too casual. “Your sis’s smarter than that.”

You felt the burn of her gaze linger a second too long before she finally turned on the TV, thumbing at the hem of her sleeve, the black lines of her tattoo stretching as her forearm flexed.

Your brother wasn’t convinced. You could see it in the way his shoulders stayed tense, in the way his eyes kept darting between the two of you—catching things neither of you said out loud.

That friday, the mirror didn’t even look like yours anymore.

It was streaked with steam from the shower you’d taken an hour earlier, but the girl staring back at you now wasn’t the kid who used to hover at the edge of your brother’s room. This was sharpened, intentional.

Your dress was black, cut short, the hem barely grazing the tops of your thighs. The neckline plunged deeper than anything you’d ever dared, clinging in all the right places, whispering with every shift of your body. You’d tugged your hair into perfect waves, gloss shiny on your lips, mascara smudged dark around your lashes. 

The bedroom door creaked open without a knock—your brother, of course. He stepped in halfway, then stopped, eyes sweeping over you with a look that was half-annoyance, half-protection, all older brother.

“Remind me why you’re going to this party again?” 

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the heels at the foot of your bed. “Because I’m eighteen, and I’m allowed to have fun without you policing my life.”

He folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Fun,” he repeated, unimpressed. “That's what we calling it now?” His eyes flicked over your dress again, and his jaw ticked. “Jesus, you’re really wearing that?”

You slipped a heel on, snapped the strap into place with a satisfying click, and looked up at him through your lashes. “Yep. Got a problem?”

He exhaled like he was already exhausted, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know Ellie’s gonna be there, right?”

You smirked, straightening to your full height in the heels, the black dress hugging tighter when you adjusted. “Cool.”

Your brother froze, suspicion flickering across his face. “Cool? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You just shrugged, gloss catching the light when you bit your lip, voice dripping with mock innocence. “Nothing.”

He stared at you for a beat too long, jaw tight, before finally groaning under his breath and turning for the door. “Grab your damn bag—I’m driving.”

The ride was a blur of streetlights cutting across your window, bass rattling from the stereo, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He didn’t talk much, just muttered a warning here and there—“don’t get wasted,” “don’t do anything stupid,” “stick with me when we get there.” Every line edged with that older-brother grit, the kind that always came out harsher when he was worried.

When he finally pulled up outside the house—already pulsing with music, people spilling onto the lawn—you pushed open the door before he’d even killed the engine. The night air wrapped around you warm and electric, lights flashing from inside, laughter spilling across the yard.

Your brother caught up quick, locking the car and throwing you a look that was both warning and weary. “Stay where I can see you.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, music hitting you first—thick bass that rattled the walls and pressed heavy in your chest, voices spilling over it in waves. The house was packed, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, heat and perfume and sweat making the air humid. Colored lights strobed across faces, turning everyone into shifting silhouettes.

And then you saw her.

Ellie.

She was leaning against the kitchen counter with a red cup in her hand, surrounded by a cluster of friends—guys from your brother’s soccer team, a couple of girls you vaguely recognized from school. Dressed in black jeans and a faded tee that clung to her shoulders, her new tattoo stark against pale skin as she gestured lazily at whatever story she was telling.

She laughed at something, head tilting back, and you felt your stomach flip.

Your brother caught Ellie’s eye across the room and immediately cut through the crowd toward the group, his hand clapping down on one of the guys’ shoulders. She straightened a little when she saw him, green eyes flicking quick past him—then stopping.

On you.

Her smile faltered when she really looked. Took in the short black dress clinging to you, the way it dipped low on your chest, the glint of gloss on your mouth. Her jaw ticked, and she dragged her gaze away, back to your brother, but not before you caught the heat in it.

You let the corner of your mouth curl, turned on your heel, and slipped through the crowd until you found Rachel.

Rachel—your best friend, your partner-in-crime, the only girl who could match your sharpest edges—leaning against the kitchen counter, eyeliner sharp enough to kill, watching the party unfold with a look that screamed superiority. She spotted you immediately, lips curling into a wicked grin. 

“Jesus christ,” She drawled, grabbing a red cup off the counter and shoving it into your hand before you could even say hi. “You look like a whore.”

You laughed, sharp and unbothered, tilting the cup to your lips as Rachel draped an arm over your shoulder. “Thank you babe.”

Rachel cackled, clinking her drink against yours. “No, like, a hot whore. A rich whore.”

“Better than looking like a poor whore,”

“True.” She adjusted her skirt, kicking her heels against the cabinet door. “Poor whores don’t get their tits done, and yours are giving main character energy tonight.”

“My tits ain’t—” Before you could fully retort, a familiar voice cut in. Warm, teasing, familiar. 

“Wow, this is the most deranged conversation I’ve walked into all night.”

You turned to see Dina weaving her way toward you, curls framing her face, red cup in hand. She was glowing, skin dewy under the kitchen light, already half-buzzed judging by the easy sway of her steps.

“D!” Rachel yelled, nearly knocking over her cup as she reached to grab her arm. “Perfect timing. We were just discussing how hot she looks tonight.” She jabbed a finger at you.

Dina’s eyes swept you up and down, her lips quirking. “Okay, yeah. I see it. Total heartbreaker. Half this party’s about to write sad poems about you.”

“Only half?” you teased, raising a brow.

Rachel scoffed. “The other half’s just gonna try to finger you in the bathroom.”

Dina choked on her drink, laughing. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love me.” Rachel flipped her hair dramatically.

“I tolerate you,” Dina corrected, still laughing, then turned back to you. “Seriously though, you look incredible. Ellie’s here, right?”

Rachel’s grin went wolfish. “Oh, she’s here. And she’s staring so hard she’s about to burn holes in her ass.”

You snorted, hiding behind your cup. Dina leaned in, conspiratorial. “Should we do something about it?”

Rachel gasped theatrically, clutching her chest. “Oh my god, yes. Dance with us.”

Dina grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the counter. “C’mon. We’re not letting you stand here and waste your outfit.”

Rachel hopped down, nearly spilling her drink but saving it with a flourish. “To the dance floor!” she declared, striding into the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea.

And you followed, laughing so hard your ribs ached, Dina tugging you close, Rachel swaying exaggeratedly to the beat. For the first time all night, you almost forgot about Ellie’s eyes tracking every move you made.

The three of you carved out space on the sticky floor like you owned it, shoving into the crush of bodies until the music wrapped around you. Dina still had your hand, pulling you in closer as she started to move with the beat, curls shining with every sway. Rachel, predictably, went full performance mode—hips swaying, one hand dramatically in the air, mouthing the lyrics like she was headlining Coachella.

“Rachel,” Dina groaned through a laugh, “the hell are you doin'”

Rachel only tossed her hair back, “Still hotter than every person in this room combined.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop laughing, hips moving with hers when she grabbed your waist. Your head tipped back in laughter, but your gaze snagged on the table across the room.

Flip cup. Your brother stood there, red cup in hand, cheeks flushed with booze and bravado. He was leaning too heavily on the table, laughing way too loud, clearly already drunk. And right next to him—Ellie.

Her sleeves were shoved up as she smacked the cup onto the edge of the table. Her tongue poked out between her teeth as she flipped it clean on the first try, laughing when your brother cursed and slammed his palm against the wood.

She looked alive there, hair messy, caught up in the heat of competition. Your brother swayed, his words slurred as he shouted something at Ellie, and she just giggled, shoulders shaking, eyes flashing green under the strobe as she glanced at you quickly, but not less piercing.

Dina followed your gaze, then leaned close, voice warm against your ear. “Ohhh. Somebody’s watching her girl.”

Rachel smirked, leaning on your other shoulder. “Correction: Ellie’s the one watching. You’re just giving her a show.”

The night blurred into sweat and bass and laughter, hours collapsing into each other. Dina had you twirling on the dance floor, Rachel stealing sips of every cup she could find and all the while your brother spiraled further into sloppy chaos.

He was gone—head tilted back in wild laughter, arm slung over some guy you didn’t know. Every now and then he’d glance your way, but his eyes were glassy, his grin loose, his focus lost in the haze of booze and noise. He wasn’t watching you anymore.

But Ellie was.

Even when she was shoulder to shoulder with his friends, even when she pretended to be caught up in their drinking games, her gaze cut through the crowd, landing on you again and again. She looked wrecked in the strobe lights—jaw tight, mouth pulled into something halfway between a smirk and a dare.

You let it ride for a while, feeding off the weight of her stare, pretending you didn’t feel it. But when the music shifted to something slower, you leaned into Dina’s ear.

“Bathroom,” you murmured.

She arched a brow. “Need me to guard the door?”

You shook your head, quick. “No—alone. Just for a minute.”

Rachel, overhearing, pouted dramatically, grabbing at your hand. “Abandoning us? Ruuuude.”

“I’ll be fast!” you promised, tugging free with a smile that didn’t quite mask the pulse in your throat.

And before they could press, you slipped away through the crush of bodies, past the kitchen, past the living room where your brother howled with laughter, oblivious.

You glanced over your shoulder just once, long enough to catch Ellie, still at the table, her eyes locking on yours as you moved down the hall. 

You held her gaze, a silent invitation, before disappearing toward the bathroom.

The lock clicked behind you, the hum of the party muffled through the door. You leaned against the sink, breath coming too fast, palms braced against cool porcelain as you tried to steady yourself.

Five minutes. Enough time for anyone else to forget you’d slipped away. Enough time for her to notice. You told yourself not to hope, not to believe she’d actually follow, that maybe it was just your mind, conjuring the fantasy that this plan could finally work. 

You stood there waiting, doubt pooling heavy in your chest.

And then—knock, knock. Sharp. Quick.

“Coming,” you called, your voice pitching higher than you meant, nerves betraying you.

You tugged the handle, half-prepared to meet an empty hallway, half-convinced you’d imagined it all. 

Instead you opened the door into the solid wall of her, right there. 

The sight of Ellie was a shock that cracked through you, as if you hadn’t dared believe she’d really come. Eyes dark, jaw set, she didn’t bother with words. Her hand found your waist, firm, and in the next breath she had you backed up hard against the tiled wall. The door slammed shut behind her, lock snapping.

Now it was just the two of you.

The bathroom felt smaller with her in it, the air thickening, her heat rolling off in waves. The scent of beer clung to her breath, cedar shampoo to her skin, dizzying. She pressed in close, her body caging yours against cold tile, her hands braced hard at your waist so you couldn’t move even if you’d wanted to.

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Her voice was rough, rasping right against your mouth.

Your lips curved, gloss already smudged. “Worked, didn’t it?”

A breathless laugh slipped from her—half disbelieving, half hungry. “You’ve been teasing me for years.”

You tilted your head, lips brushing hers like a dare. “Maybe I have.”

That was all it took. Her mouth crashed onto yours in a bruising kiss, teeth dragging your bottom lip, swallowing the gasp you gave. It was desperate, messy, years of tension collapsing into heat and tongue and want. Her hands roamed with no hesitation, sliding up your thighs, under your dress, thumbs digging into your hips like she meant to brand you there.

She pinned you higher against the wall, your dress riding up as porcelain and tile dug into the backs of your thighs. Her body pressed tight to yours, chest to chest, the air between you nothing but her warmth and the sting of cheap beer.

She leaned in, grin wicked, eyes dark and glazed with something that wasn’t just tipsy.

“Jesus,” she muttered against your mouth, kissing you again before you could answer. “You have any idea what you do to me?”

Your hand fisted in her shirt, pulling her closer, nails digging into her shoulders “Been wanting you to fuck me for years,” you whispered hot against her jaw, kissing down to the corner of her mouth.

Her breath stuttered, her laugh wrecked.

“My best friend’s lil’ sis, huh?” Another kiss, hard enough to steal your air. “This is wrong. You know it.”

Your lips brushed her ear, voice a rasp. “Then stop.”

She froze for a fraction of a heartbeat, just long enough for her eyes to flick to yours—dark, feral, undone—and her mouth crashed back onto yours, harder. The kiss stole your breath, her teeth grazing your lip before her tongue claimed the space between your mouths.

Her hands slid down, gripping your ass hard, fingers digging in. In the next second, she lifted you clean off the ground, setting you down against the sink, porcelain biting into the backs of your thighs.

“Could never stop,” she growled, fingers pressing harder.

The small bathroom shrank around you. Her body pressed tight between your knees, hand sliding higher, under the thin fabric of your dress, cupping you, making you gasp into her mouth.

Your hands were everywhere—threading through her short hair, tugging her closer, slipping under her shirt to feel hot skin, tracing the edge of that tattoo while she groaned into your mouth. She kissed you like she was drowning, like every second wasted was years lost.

Her fingers dragged your panties aside, finding you wet and desperate already, her breath hitching when she felt it.

“Fuck, you’re soaked—” you cut her off with another kiss, swallowing her gasp as she grinded against your knee like she couldn’t help it.

“Shut up and touch me,” you muttered, nails raking her back.

Her laugh broke rough against your lips, but her fingers pushed inside you in the next heartbeat, hot and fast, curling deep as you clenched around her. Your cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, swallowed by her mouth as she kissed you through it.

“Been dreaming of this,” she whispered against your lips, fucking you harder, faster, her free hand gripping the sink behind you for leverage. “Years, baby. Years.”

You clawed at her shirt, legs trembling in her grip, words tumbling out between frantic kisses. “Don’t—stop—Ellie—”

Ellie’s mouth was hot against yours, her fingers driving deeper, curling until your thighs trembled on either side of her. Her forehead pressed to yours, teeth catching your lip before her tongue soothed the sting.

“I won’t,” she rasped and then pulled her hand from between your legs. You barely had time to whine before she was dropping to her knees on the tile, dragging your dress up around your hips as if she’d been dying to do it for years.

“Ellie—” you gasped, but the word cut off in a cry when her tongue parted you, wet and starved. Her hands gripped your thighs hard, spreading you wider, nails biting your skin as she buried her mouth deeper.

You clutched the sink behind you, head tipping back against the mirror with a dull thud. “Fuck—fuck!”

She groaned against you, low and guttural, the sound vibrating straight through your core. Her tongue was relentless, licking into you, sucking your clit with the same fierce concentration she used to give those endless video games on your brother’s floor.

She pulled back just long enough to drag her mouth across your inner thigh, lips wet, smirk curling though her breath came ragged.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought,” she rasped, eyes glazed, jaw slick. “Been thinking about this for so fucking long.”

Your thighs trembled, fingers locked tight in her short hair. You stared down at her, chest heaving, unable to catch your breath. “This isn’t—this can’t be real—” The words tore out of you between gasps, half-moan, half-disbelief.

Ellie grinned against you. “Oh, it’s real, baby. You’re dripping all over my tongue.” She pressed in harder, mouthing at your clit, groaning like she couldn’t get enough. “Dreamt about it, fuck, yeah—but nothing ever came close.”

You whimpered, grinding against her mouth helplessly and yanking her head deeper between your thighs. “Ellie—Ellie, please—”

She only growled in return, dragging her tongue through your folds like she meant to ruin you, sucking you down until you were thrashing against the counter

Your head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut, knuckles white where you clutched the sink. You couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out, couldn’t stop the frantic chant of her name breaking from your throat. The sight of her burned itself into your mind, filthy and impossible.

When you came, it tore out of you sharp and fast, muffled against your own arm as you tried to hold back the scream. Ellie didn’t let up, licking you through it, swallowing every drop, her moans vibrating against your skin like she’d been starving for you all along.

She stood then, breathless, lips slick, eyes dark with want. She dragged you into another kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on her tongue, her hands already tugging a strap from the waistband of her jeans, the plastic glinting under the bathroom light.

Your eyes widened, pulse snapping into overdrive. “Ellie—holy shit—”

Her smirk was wicked, already pressing the strap against you, grinding just enough to make you gasp. “What?”

You barely had time to answer before she shoved your dress down, fabric tearing against her impatience until your tits spilled free. She groaned low, mouth wrapping around one nipple, sucking hard while her hand shoved the strap against your cunt.

“Jesus—” you cried, half in shock, half in want, nails scrambling at the mirror behind you for balance. “This—this is insane—”

Her laugh was muffled against your skin, tongue flicking over your nipple before she bit down gently, enough to make you jolt.

And then she pushed inside.

Your cry echoed sharp in the cramped bathroom, echoing off tile and mirror. The stretch tore through you, hot and overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop the broken “Oh my god—! spilling from your lips. Ellie’s grip on your hips was bruising, anchoring you in place as she drove into you, rough and desperate, the slap of skin against skin barely audible over the bass pounding through the walls.

Her mouth dragged back up, teeth scraping your jaw, words rasped against your ear. “Look at you—can’t believe I’m finally inside you. You take it so fucking good, baby.”

Your heel slipped, clattering to the tile floor, legs tightening around her waist instinctively, dragging her deeper, harder. She kissed you again, swallowing your gasps like she couldn’t bear to let anyone else hear them. 

“Say it,” she demanded between kisses, voice jagged, her hand sliding up your throat, thumb pressing against your pulse. “Say you’ve wanted me too.”

“Ellie—fuck—always,” you cried, nails digging into her shoulders, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from how good it felt. “Always.”

Her smirk broke into a groan, hips pistoning faster, the strap hitting that perfect spot again and again until you shattered around her, clutching at her like you’d never let go. She bit into your shoulder, muffling her own ragged moan, body trembling with the force of it.

The bathroom felt too small to hold it—Ellie’s pace turned brutal, every thrust rattling the porcelain beneath you, the mirror behind your back fogging over from your ragged breaths. Her grip on your hips was iron, dragging you flush against her with every snap of her hips until you were nothing but nerve endings and need.

Her forehead pressed to yours, sweat dampening her locks, her green eyes blown frantic. “God, you feel—fuck, you feel unreal,” she choked, cutting herself off with a kiss so desperate it hurt, her tongue tangling with yours.

And then—knock, knock.

“Bathroom’s free?” 

Your brother’s voice slurred through the door, drunk and oblivious.

You froze, your whole body seizing, panic jolting through you like a live wire. But Ellie didn’t stop. Her hips only slowed, grinding in deeper instead of pulling away, eyes gleaming with something reckless. She clapped a hand over your mouth, pressing your head back against the mirror with a quiet thud.

“Occupied, bro,” Ellie called, her voice casual like she wasn’t buried inside you, fucking you against the sink. She thrust once, deliberately, making your muffled moan vibrate against her palm. Her lips brushed your ear, smirk curling. 

“Quiet.” she whispered, breath hot against your lobe.

"Ellie?" Your brother chuckled lazily through the door. “Where’s my sister? I can’t find the brat.”

Ellie’s smirk only widened, her hips rolling slow and deep, dragging the strap over that spot that made your thighs spasm around her waist. 

“Me? Mmmm... Haven’t seen her,” she drawled, hand still clamped tight over your mouth as you whimpered under it. She met your frantic eyes, a flash of panic flickering in hers for just a heartbeat before she buried it under that cocky grin. “Maybe she’s… busy.”

You thrashed a little, nails clawing her shoulder, begging her with your eyes, but she just pressed her hand harder over your lips, grinding into you with a snap of her hips that knocked a choked sound out of you.

“Busy?” your brother repeated, like he was leaning on the door now, words slurring.

Ellie bit back a laugh, her voice steady. 

“Yeah. With her friends, I meant.” Her tone was smooth as if nothing about the situation was wrong, even as her hips pressed forward again, making your muffled cry vibrate against her palm. Her smirk twisted as her eyes bored into yours, watching you fall apart silently beneath her. “Think I saw her in the kitchen last time.”

You felt your pulse hammering everywhere at once, the terror of being caught clashing with the unbearable heat of Ellie’s relentless thrusts.

There was a pause, long enough you thought you’d both be finished.

Then God finally had mercy for the sinners: 

“Kay. I’ll… look for her in the kitchen.” His footsteps staggered away down the hall.

You ripped a muffled sob against Ellie’s hand, thighs trembling, every nerve fried. She waited until the footsteps faded, then peeled her palm away from your lips, only to shove her tongue into your mouth, swallowing the broken sounds spilling out of you.

“Fuck,” she hissed, rutting into you harder now, reckless, chasing the high of nearly being caught. “That was close, huh?”

Your breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, tears prickling your eyes as you clung to her. “Ellie—oh my god, I can’t believe—”

“Believe it,” she growled, teeth dragging along your jaw. “Your brother just asked me where you were,” She thrust hard, sharp, making you cry out. “And you’re still fucking taking it.”

The heat coiled too fast, too sharp, panic and arousal tangling until you broke again, your body convulsing around her as you came with a strangled sob. Ellie groaned loud against your neck, thrusting through it, voice raw and guttural in your ear.

Ellie never broke her gaze. She pushed into you one last time, slow and devastating, her mouth brushing your ear.

“Thaat's it. You did so good,” she whispered, lips curling against your skin.

By the time you both finally stilled, your thighs were trembling against the porcelain, your gloss smeared across her mouth. The music from the party pulsed through the walls like nothing in the world had shifted, even as everything between you had.

Ellie eased out, hands steadying you when your legs tried to give. She tugged her strap free, tucking it back into the waistband of her jeans like she’d done it a hundred times before. You gawked, dress still hiked high around your hips, tits still out, hair a mess.

“You always carry that thing around?” you hissed in disbelief, tugging your hem back down and the straps into place, trying to make yourself look remotely presentable.

Ellie’s dimples flashed as she zipped her fly. “Only ‘cause I knew this was gonna happen.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re insane.”

She leaned in, kissed you quick and dirty, a press of lips that still tasted of you.

You shoved at her chest, whispering sharp. “Kitchen. Right now. Or we’re dead as fuck if he figures it out.”

Ellie only laughed under her breath, stealing one last kiss before pulling back, eyes glinting wicked. “So… you wanna make this a regular thing?”

Your face burned, heart hammering, but you still rolled your eyes, muttering, “Oh, you wanna be dead so bad.”

Her smirk only widened. Her hand slid down to smack your ass hard enough to make you jolt, a muffled yelp catching in your throat. Then she leaned back against the sink, giving you the nod to go first.

Separate exits. Five minutes apart.

You slipped out first, dress tugged back into place, pulse still thrumming like you’d run miles. The hallway spun with music and smoke, laughter from the living room spilling through the walls. By the time you reached the kitchen, you’d almost convinced yourself no one noticed. Almost.

Your brother was leaning against the counter, red-eyed and drunk as hell, a red cup dangling loosely in his hand. He squinted when he saw you. “Where the fuck were you?” he slurred, head lolling like he could barely keep it up.

You forced a smile, pulse still erratic. “Outside,” you said quickly, reaching for a bottle of beer on the counter just to keep your hands busy. “Went for air.”

He nodded, buying it instantly, attention already flicking back toward the table where someone was shouting about another round of flip cup. “Kay. Don’t disappear again.”

You exhaled, tension flooding out of your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—Ellie, slipping into the room behind you, shirt adjusted, casual as hell. She didn’t even look at you, just drifted toward the couch, shoulder to shoulder with your brother like nothing had happened at all.

You exhaled, forcing your breath steady as you slipped back into the current of bodies, the swell of music and laughter threatening to swallow you whole. You tried to blend in, but you didn’t make it three steps before Rachel and Dina materialized out of the crowd like hawks circling prey.

“Girl, where the fuck were you?!” Dina shrieked, voice slicing over the music as she clamped onto your wrist like she was dragging you into court. Her eyes were wide, as if you’d committed some unspeakable crime by slipping away.

Rachel blinked at you, her gaze sweeping slow from head to toe, taking in every detail—your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, the way your hair was mussed in a way no amount of dancing could explain, the tremble of your legs, and the cling of your dress rumpled crooked on your hips. Her brows shot up, and then narrowed like she was lining up the pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t thought she’d ever get to solve.

Her jaw dropped, face lighting up with vindication. She smacked Dina’s arm so hard the other girl sputtered beer down her chin. “Oh my god. She fucked Ellie.”

Dina covered her mouth, laughing in disbelief, muffled behind her hand. “No. No way. Did you—”

“Shut up,” you groaned, dragging both hands up to cover your face, praying the floor would swallow you whole. But the heat blooming across your skin betrayed you instantly.

Rachel was already spinning in a delirious circle, her cup sloshing dangerously close to the carpet. “Bitch, I knew it! I knew it! You disappeared, she disappeared, and you come back looking like you just got out of a damn car wash—holy shit.”

Dina was still laughing, head shaking like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her voice was low but cutting, eyes glinting with mischief. “Your brother’s gonna kill her.”

Rachel clinked her cup against yours with a wicked little flourish, eyes gleaming. “Worth it though, huh?”

You didn’t answer—didn’t dare. You didn’t have to. Not when your body still hummed with the phantom echo of Ellie inside you, not with the taste of her still ghosting your tongue.

Across the room, you caught her. Ellie, leaning casual against the couch like she’d been there all night, a beer dangling from her fingers. But that carved, dangerous little curl of her lips was aimed straight at you. 

A mark, a brand, like she owned the night, owned you, and owned the secret pulsing between you and your brother’s laughter.

And in a way, you both did.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓— @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andieprincessofpower @isabelckl @sunflowerwinds @coastalwilliams @thinkingabtellie @ssijht @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @sewithinsouls @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @satellitespinner @yunaversalluv @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @marscardigan @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @les4elliewilliams @elliewilliamskisser2000 @azxteria @elliecoochieeater @doodl3b3ans @savagestarlight28 ࿐

you’d never noticed how sharp sevika’s smile really was until tonight.

the two of you had been alone in her dimly lit apartment, wine glasses half full, shadows climbing the walls. you’d been laughing about something — her sarcastic quip, your ridiculous comeback — when she stopped, her gaze sinking deep into you.

“i need to tell you something,” she said, voice low, deliberate.

your stomach flipped. “that sounded ominous.”

her lips quirked. “it is. but…i need you to hear me out. and trust me.”

then she told you. not with dramatics, not with gothic flourish, but plain and heavy. she was a vampire. had been for longer than she wanted to count. she’d never hurt you, never planned to. but she was hungry. and you — your pulse, your warmth — were driving her half mad.

you laughed at first, because what else could you do? but sevika didn’t laugh. her expression didn’t crack.

“prove it,” you whispered.

her eyes glinted, and with an almost lazy roll of her tongue, she bared her fangs. sharp, gleaming, impossibly real. your heart tripped, hammering against your ribs.

“fuck,” you breathed, pressing back into the couch cushions. “you’re serious.”

“dead serious,” she murmured, leaning closer. “but i won’t take unless you let me.”

your throat bobbed. “and if i say no?”

“then i suffer through it.” her jaw flexed, control wound tight. “but if you say yes…” her hand slid over your thigh, firm, grounding. “i’ll show you what it feels like. it won’t be pain, doll. not how you think.”

you hesitated, nerves crackling through your veins. “i don’t know...”

“shh,” she soothed, brushing her thumb along your jaw. “don’t think so hard. i’ll take care of you. just trust me.”

and god help you, you nodded.

her breath ghosted over your neck, hot and cool all at once, sending goosebumps across your skin. when her lips finally pressed against your pulse point, you shivered.

“you’ll feel a pinch,” she muttered. “then—”

the fangs sank in.

the world detonated.

it wasn’t pain, it was lightning, heat, a molten pull straight to your core. your spine arched, a whimper breaking from your throat as your body betrayed you, pressing closer, begging for more.

“s-sevika...”

she held you steady, strong arm locked around your waist as she drank, slow, savouring. every pull of her mouth sent sparks ricocheting between your thighs, your pulse syncing with the drag of her tongue. you moaned, shameless, clinging to her shoulders.

when she finally tore herself away, your legs were trembling, your breath ragged. crimson stained her lips, and fuck — she’d never looked more devastatingly beautiful.

“i told you,” she rasped, thumb swiping the corner of her mouth. “not pain. never pain.”

you whined, dizzy and needy, head falling against her chest. “s’not fair..feels too good,”

her hand stroked your hair, trying to soothe. “you’re weak. i didn’t take much, but your body’s not used to it. you need to rest.”

“don’t wanna rest,” you slurred, hips shifting against her thigh. “want more please, sevika, please!”

her laugh was husky, strained, like she was holding herself back. “fuck, doll. you don’t know whatcha askin for.”

“don’t care,” you whined, dragging your nails down her arm, desperate, restless. “feels like-like—”

“an orgasm,” she finished for you, lips brushing your ear. “that’s what the bite is. addictive. dangerous. that’s why i tried to warn ya, sugar.”

you whimpered again, pressing your throat back toward her mouth. “then bite me again. please.”

sevika’s growl vibrated against your skin, her fangs dragging just enough to make you shiver. “careful, sweetheart. once i start…i might not stop.”

her warning fell flat against the mess you’d already become, lips wet, pupils blown wide, body trembling as if the bite had rewired you.

“sevvv please,” you gasped, voice cracked, “need it, need you.”

her hand caught your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. crimson was bleeding into her irises, hunger alive and feral. “you don’t even know whatcha beggin for.”

“don’t care,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thigh, slick already dampening your underwear. “just want more. please,”

that broke her.

her mouth was on you again, rougher this time, devouring the pulse in your neck before dragging down, teeth grazing your collarbone, your breast, lower still. she pushed your legs open, pinning you against the cushions.

“so fuckin sweet, darling,” she muttered, fangs glinting as she pressed her lips to your inner thigh. “you won’t last a second.”

and then, white hot agonypleasure, she bit.

your cry strangled into a moan, back arching, eyes rolling as blood and heat pulsed from the wound straight to your cunt. your hands clawed at her shoulders, at the cushions, at anything.

“ohmygodohmygod!!!”

her tongue lapped at the punctures, slow and indulgent, while her thigh pressed higher against you, grinding right where you needed. you were gushing, soaking, drool slipping down your chin as you tried to form words that dissolved into whimpers.

“already gone, doll?” sevika teased, voice rough with hunger. “just from a bite on this soft little thigh?”

you nodded frantically, incoherent. “y-yes!! fuck moremoremore,”

her hand shoved your underwear aside, and she pressed herself against you, the heat of her big brown clit grinding against yours.

scissoring, slow at first — wet, filthy friction dragging clit against clit.

you sobbed, pleasure crashing in relentless waves. “oohhhh vikahh. s’too much, feels— ohmygod, sevikaa!”

her fangs scraped your skin again, making your hips jerk uncontrollably. “take it,” she growled, grinding harder, faster. “let me fuck you dumb.”

and you did.

your legs quivered, cunt clenching desperately as every drag of her slick folds against yours set your nerves alight. drool slicked your lips, your eyes crossed, the only sounds spilling from you high pitched cries and pathetic whines.

“look at ya” sevika groaned, rutting against you, her own control splintering. “cross eyed whore, droolin. just a whimperin mess f'me.”

she bit again, shallow this time, just enough to send another lightning bolt through you. you came apart instantly, screaming, clenching around nothing as you soaked the couch.

but she didn’t stop.

sevika held you down, relentless, dragging her cunt against yours until the overstimulation wracked through you, every nerve on fire, your body jerking and twitching under her. tears leaked from your eyes, sobs breaking your throat.

“sev!! s’too much, can’t—”

“yes you can,” she growled, pressing her forehead to yours, her mouth smeared with blood and spit. “you’re mine. my sweet little vein, my mess,”

you came again, and again, until the world blurred into crimson and white, until all you could do was cry and drool, body trembling under her strength.

finally, finally, she slowed, holding you against her, both of you trembling, slick and blood smeared between your thighs.

she kissed your temple, gentle, the hunger still simmering in her chest. “such a good girl f'me. taste so so good”

you whimpered, clinging weakly, still quivering. “wanna be yours. want more.”

her laugh was low, dark, indulgent. “fuck, doll. you’re gonna be the death of me.”

then she leaned back, chest heaving, eyes glowing crimson. the strap glinted in her hand, already slick with lube.

“you asked for more, doll,” she rasped, voice wrecked, “so i’m gonna give ya more.”

she pulled you onto all fours, your weak arms shaking under the weight of exhaustion. she steadied you with one huge hand at your hip, the head of her cock sliding through your folds, teasing, dripping with your own slick.

“look at you. still drippin, still hungry.” her breath fanned your ear. “you’re mine now, understand?”

“y-yours,” you whimpered, arching back into her, shameless.

her laugh was low, dark, predatory. “that’s my good girl.”

she slammed in deep on the first thrust, and you (s)creamed.

your body collapsed forward, cheek pressed to the cushions, ass held up by her bruising grip. she didn’t give you a second to adjust — her hips pistoned hard fast and merciless, every thrust slamming the strap against your walls until you were seeing stars.

“sev — fuck, too much, ohmygod! feel soso good”

“shut up and take it.”

her teeth scraped your shoulder. you had half a second to gasp before she sank her fangs in.

your cry broke into a guttural moan, body convulsing as blood and heat and painpleasure detonated all at once. your thighs shook violently, drool spilling from your lips as she fucked you through the overload.

“ohhh fuckfuckfuck!!”

her growl vibrated against your skin, lips locked around the wound as she drank, hips rutting harder, faster, until your walls were milking the strap like it was her dick.

you were gone. crossed eyes, tears streaking, saliva pooling under your chin as your body spasmed helplessly. every thrust drove you deeper into the couch, every pull of her mouth wrung another orgasm out of you until you were keening, a wrecked, broken mess.

“ruined little thing,” sevika groaned, finally pulling her mouth away, blood dripping down your back. “you like it, dontcha? being fucked dumb while i drink from you.”

you nodded frantically, unable to form words, just sobbing and moaning as your cunt clenched around the strap.

her thrusts slowed, but didn’t stop — deep, grinding, dragging pleasure through your overstimmed nerves. “say it. who do you belong to?”

“y-you,” you choked, voice hoarse, “i’m yours, sevika, yoursyoursyours.”

she smirked, kissing the blood on your shoulder, hips rolling harder, making you scream again. “that’s right, sweetheart. all mine.”

you came one last time, violent and shuddering, collapsing completely under her as she fucked you through it, tears streaking your face, body trembling and ruined.

sevika pulled out only when your legs gave out, catching you before you hit the cushions. she gathered you up against her chest, her lips soft against your hairline.

“told you it was dangerous,” she murmured, voice tender now, despite the blood smeared across her mouth.

you whimpered weakly, clinging to her shirt, too wrung out to do anything else. “don’t care. want more.”

her chuckle rumbled against you, fond and dark. “fuck, doll. i’m never letting you go.”

if you could go back in time and throttle your younger self for choosing this building to live in, you would.

when you finally had the opportunity and finances to move out of home, you jumped at the opportunity. your own decorations and space, your own little corner of the world. in your eagerness to have a place of your own, you made a hasty decision and locked yourself into a lease without picking up on the warning signs.

the little one bedroom one bathroom affair that you were renting was dingy, but that’s normal at this price point! the paint is peeling and is definitely a little water damaged and things smell a bit funky, but this was a starter apartment! and that website that you can rate landlords on has given this guy one star, but surely it’s all exaggeration.

it was in fact not an exaggeration in the slightest. 

because every time something went wrong, your fuckass landlord just refused to do his job. you’ve actually gotten pretty handy, learning to do little things like check your breaker box and patching holes in the walls and fixing the water pressure of your shower.

‘but i can’t fix this’ you think to yourself as your toilet pipe breaks and starts gushing water. all over your bathroom floor, and onto your brand new ducky printed bathmat. you just look at it for a minute, because what exactly are you supposed to do?

this wasn’t your first plumbing issue. last time, a plumber had come out and told you and your landlord that the pipes were extremely old and failing, and he’d have to pay a pretty penny to get new ones laid soon.

your landlord had heard the word ‘soon’, understood that he didn’t have to do it immediately, and therefore just didn’t ever get it done. you got the leaky pipe patched, but it was only a matter of time until it wasn’t enough.

today was that day.

you take a few seconds more to mourn your poor bathmat, before hurling your oldest grossest towels onto your bathroom floor to start soaking up the mess, and dial your landlord’s number.

“hey there-” “dude, my pipe burst for real this time. can you please- “i’m on vacation. leave me a voicemail and i’ll organise stuff when i can.”

the tone beeps, and you leave a recording of just a heavy sigh. of course he's gone.

you decide the best course of action is to call a plumber yourself. you can afford it, and you’d just get your landlord to reimburse you. tenant rights and all. 

you google ‘plumbers in my area’ and click the first one you see. you find the number, call it, and get through surprisingly quickly.

“you’ve reached zaun’s choice plumbing and pipes. how can i help you today?”

the voice on the line is deep, a little raspy, your best guess is a woman who smokes. it’s pleasant, a little gritty, serious. you’re a little too entranced to answer.

“hello?” “sorry! hi, yeah, um. my pipe just burst? i was supposed to have new ones put in but my landlord never organised it and now he’s on vacation and there’s water everywhere and my cute new bathmat is ruined.”

all the words leave you in a rush, and you realise just how stressed the situation has made you. the voice on the line chuckles, not mean, but she’s definitely amused.

“plumbing emergency then. sorry ‘bout your bathmat, ma’am. you’re in luck though, we have a plumber free to come out right now. what’s the address?”

you tell her your name, though she didn’t ask, and give her the address for the building and your apartment number. you can hear a hum of acknowledgement, and maybe the sound of pen on paper as she writes it down. 

“okay, ma’am. someone will be there in twenty minutes.” “thank you so much!”

you spend the next twenty minutes trying to clean your bathroom to be presentable, which proves to be an impossible task when there’s water still actively flowing and things don’t smell awesome. you retreat to the living room to wait for the plumber. 

when the knock comes, and you open the door, you nearly forget all about the stupid toilet.

the plumber is drop dead stunning. you’re staring but you can’t even help yourself. she’s taller than you by more than half a foot, she’s built like a tank, and she’s currently looking at you with a slightly amused expression that’s unbelievably attractive. she says your name and you nod.

“hey. i’m sevika. we spoke on the phone. i’m gonna be taking care of you today.”

gods, taking care of you? you’ve definitely seen porn that starts with this sort of plot, and suddenly, you get it. 

the mental image of sevika foregoing fixing your toilet and plumbing something else takes over your brain and totally fries it when you try to be as normal as possible in response.

“it’s nice to meet you! i’m so glad you're here. i really need to have some pipe laid as soon as possible.”

did you really just say that? the way sevika cocks her brow clues you into the fact that she’s thinking the exact same thing, but she just smiles. she’s got a tooth gap in her front teeth that makes you want to faint.

“well. lucky for you, i’m an expert in laying pipe.”

she’s teasing you. it’s like she can smell your fear.

your fear of seeming like a complete dork in front of the hot plumber that is.

you ogle for a few more seconds. take stock of sevika’s biceps that strain against her uniform jacket, the various scars on her hands that speak to damage on the job, how soft her hair looks in comparison to the rest of her, tied up in a ponytail with a few strands framing her face. that little labret piercing, silver stud just under her full bottom lip.

and then you decide to be normal for real, stepping aside and letting sevika in. she’s carrying this bulky bag of tools and equipment and god knows what else that she carries with an ease that makes you feel a little funny. you show her to your bathroom, and she lets out a low whistle.

“you weren’t kidding about the emergency.”

sevika’s all business. gets to work assessing things right away. doesn’t care that her boots are stepping in toilet water. she quotes you an initial number that makes your eyes widen, but you have the savings. all you had to do was wait for the landlord to come back and it would be like it was never even spent.

you feel like a creep watching sevika work, no matter how much you want to stare. you relegate yourself back to your living room. you try to read a book, but unfortunately what was in reach was a smutty little number that only made the shameful heat in your tummy burn hotter. 

scrolling tiktok endlessly seemed like a better option, and a few hours pass before you’re even aware of it. you’re broken out of your stupor by heavy footfalls, and turn to watch sevika enter the room.

it’s not even fair at this point. sevika’s taken the jacket off and tied it around her waist, giving you a phenomenal view of her arms, fully on display because of her wife pleaser tank top. both her arms are covered in dark sleeve tattoos, intricate pieces of flowers and waves and animals and faces that surely cost her thousands. there’s a rather large nautical star on her wrist as part of one of the sleeves, and you can’t tell if it’s the design or a purposeful nod to her sexuality.

your dilemma about sevika’s potential sexuality and your resulting chances of pulling her isn’t helped at all by the carabiner on her belt that you hadn’t noticed before. is it a work thing, or is it an invitation? you have no clue. you tune back in and realise sevika had been explaining the issue to you.

“...pipes were way too old to be safe. it’s lucky that they only burst like this and had relatively minimal flooding. i’ve fitted in some brand new pipes, toilet’s working just fine again. sorry about the bathmat though, pretty sure that’s a casualty.”

you thank her profusely for fixing your emergency, and offer her water or a snack. anything to get her to stay longer.

sevika ends up asking for water, and you’re treated to watching her down the glass, adam’s apple bobbing, head tilted back, a drop running down the corner of her lip. good lord.

she hands you the glass back with a grateful smile, and is all business again in an instant.

“so, about the final costs. your total is a little higher, i didn’t realise how much piping needed dire replacement.”

the new total nearly makes you freak out, but you put on a tight smile and nod instead, voice a touch higher.

“yeah, i understand why it costs more!”

sevika seems to notice your sudden change in demeanour, and folds her arms over her chest, appraising you with an almost sympathetic look.

“if you want, we can work out an alternative payment.”

wasn’t that the line all the pornos used? you almost laugh at how corny it is. 

“like what?”

you ask with bated breath. you’re hopeful, but you’re not even sure what for.

“like a pay in four or something. some sort of plan if you can’t afford it all at once.”

you deflate. and then catch yourself. why were you disappointed? you weren’t normally such a deviant, why was this woman getting to you so much? you shake your head at sevika’s offer.

“no, no, it’s okay. i’ll get the landlord to reimburse me.” “suit yourself. the invoice will be mailed to you physically and via email. have a good day, ma'am.” “you too!”

you wave sevika out. the second the door shuts, you shove your face into your hands and let out a loud groan. as lovely as sevika is to look at and listen to, you think you'd combust if you were in the same space as her for any more time.

the rest of your afternoon is spent drying the tiles of your bathroom, mournfully disposing of your poor towels and ducky bathmat, and telling every friend who'll listen about the plumber who was definitely hitting on you a little bit maybe.

your toilet never had another issue. you got your money back from the landlord after quoting tenants rights at him, and really the only negative was that you have no more excuses to call the plumber back

it's a few months before you see sevika again.

it's summer now, and the world has warmed up beyond the point of being comfortable. you're uncomfortable, sticky with sweat, and no matter how little clothing you wear, humidity clings to you like a second skin.

luckily, you have an air conditioner! 

unluckily, when you turn it on, the air that comes out isn't very cold!

upon a few hours of investigation, you find that the issue isn't anything you can fix. the inside of your air conditioner has formed a thick layer of ice that's blocking most of the air from ever coming out. when it starts making grinding noises and chunks of ice begin falling out, you call the landlord. 

he does his job , shockingly, and you get an entry notice for an air conditioner technician within a few days. your repair date can't come soon enough. your little apartment has terrible insulation and you've resorted to putting ice packs on your neck and wrists to cool your blood for any relief.

the scheduled date and time roll around, and you get an extremely pleasant surprise when you answer the knock at your door.

sevika stands there, the same slightly amused look on her face, in a nearly identical uniform and holding a nearly identical bag of equipment. you could cry and thank whatever universal force put her back on your doorstep.

“you're here for the air conditioner?” “yes ma'am.” “i thought you were a plumber.” “‘s not that weird to have multiple jobs. you gonna let me in?”

you step aside, and sevika is just so broad that she brushes against you when she walks in. you show her to your problematic air conditioner, talking her ear off as she opens it up.

“it's making ice? somehow? google says that coolant might be leaking, and i cleaned all the filters and stuff so it's definitely not a me problem. i guess there's just something wrong with it internally that i can't see.”

that all could have been maybe one sentence. you curse your chronic dorkitis yet again. sevika, the merciful being that she is, either doesn't notice or doesn't care about your yap sesh.

“don't worry, ma'am. i know my way around the insides.”

sevika says, giving you a look over her shoulder as she pats the air conditioner. you blink at her, trying to process her words and tone of voice. did she sound slightly flirtier, or were you really just that desperate for her to want you?

you need to get laid. that has to be the only solution to the fact that you're drooling over your hot plumber-technician.

this time when you sit in the living room, you feel less creepy watching sevika work. your couch has line of sight with the broken machine, and so you're treated to rippling biceps and the way she absentmindedly toys with the labret in her lip.

seems the cure for too much screen time is a blue collar woman fixing things in your house, because your eyes just keep going to her instead of the screen. just like last time, her jacket ends up off, and you end up red in the face. at least this time it's also partially because of the heat.

it's a little awkward this time, just sitting there in the same room, saying nothing. you text your friends about sevika's return to your apartment. after a lot of excitement and keysmashing, you get encouragement to just talk to her. you swallow your nervousness and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“i, um, really like your tattoos. they're super cool.”

you wince at your own stuttering. sevika, despite her focused expression, responds without looking as she pulls some piece or other out of your air conditioner.

“thanks. i have a friend who's a tattoo artist so i get them cheaper.” “that's cool! what's your favourite one you have?”

sevika looks down at her arms, and then smirks a little, and pulls her arms out of the machine to tap her wrist.

the nautical star.

“it looks sick, and it's convenient. attracts the right crowd, if y’know what i mean.”

so it was a flag. and she was volunteering that information while looking at you like she knows your thoughts. and she's got that lazy expression like a cat that has a cornered mouse and can take its time with it. and you can feel your face is burning and you can only hope it’s not obvious to her.

you suddenly feel very exposed, and none of this is helping the thoughts in your brain.

“it does look sick.”

you agree lamely, and sevika simply chuckles before going back to work. your phone is back open in an instant, and your group chats and servers are filled with you rejoicing that sevika did in fact, swing your way.

‘are you gonna ask her out then?’ one of your friends asks, and you want to, but every variation of ‘do you wanna go out sometime?’ is stuck in your throat.

you open and close your mouth like a fish in sevika's general direction for a few minutes, and then give up. 

your air conditioner is fixed much faster than your toilet was. sevika explains something about a non harmful gas leak that unfortunately goes in one ear and out the other because you didn't even know that was a thing for aircons.

the room starts to get pleasantly cool again. sevika wipes sweat off her brow, and you're speaking before you think.

“if you don't have any other jobs to get to right away, do you wanna stay for a few minutes? you look like you could use some cooling down. you're looking really hot!”

sevika raises that eyebrow again at your double entendre. it's always her left one, arched high to show just how much she questions your word choice. her dark lips pull up at the corner, clearly entertained by your inability to speak normally around her.

“that's real nice of you, but i gotta head out, tight schedule today. you enjoy the air, though. you're looking kinda hot too.”

that's flirting, right? surely? unfortunately you fail to kick yourself into any sort of seductive or attractive mode, and instead just tell sevika to have a nice rest of her day. her eyes seem to flash with something you can’t name, before her easy smirk is back and she leaves your apartment.

you roll around on the couch for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order.

you fumbled the bag again. sevika does both plumbing and hvac technician stuff. she’s gay so you have a chance.

the rational course of action is to stuff non flushable wet wipes into your toilet until it clogs so you have an excuse to call her, but there’s no guarantee she’d be the one sent out. you’d already been lucky enough to see her more than once, maybe fate is on your side?

you make a promise to yourself; if or when you next see sevika, you will shoot your shot. 

you don’t have to wait all that long, because in just another month, you have another crisis.

during a storm, your building loses all its power, and a bunch of electricians have to come check out the generators and the grid and also each individual apartment. 

when it’s your turn to have your breaker box checked, you honestly believe you’re dreaming, because sevika’s here again, same uniform, same bag… different hair though. choppy and blunt, bangs in her face and an undercut. it suits her so insanely well. 

you have no time to be awkward or weird though, because you’re too busy being shocked.

“is this a joke?” “nope.”

sevika says, popping the p. for once, she isn’t smirking, she’s got a shit eating grin, like she finds this all hilarious.

“i’m an electrician too.” “i’m being punked. i’m literally on a prank show.” “i’m also a trained boilermaker. i’m a jack of all trades, doll.”

doll is new. you must look surprised, because sevika seems to catch what she said, and clears her throat.   

“jus’ gotta make sure everything’s all good and your power won’t blow randomly. breaker box?”

sevika asks casually, and you let her in. this time while she works, you hang out a closer distance, watching. you’d been given another chance, and they say the third time’s the charm. surely it meant something if this woman kept coming back to your place. it couldn’t be a coincidence. you work up the courage to at least talk to her, hoping that the conversation would lead somewhere where you could ask her out.

“so… how come you do all these different jobs?”

you ask, leaning against the wall. sevika seems to know her way around the breaker box incredibly well, to the point she can look at you instead of it when she replies.

“my old man wanted me to get into a trade like him. did electrical first, hated it. trained in the other three after, nothing stuck. ended up realising i hated doing these ‘masculine’ jobs because i was tryin’ to avoid the truth about myself. loved the jobs after my transition and focused on the work itself instead of th’ culture.”

sevika drops so much about herself so quickly that you’re a little surprised, but you absorb all the information like a sponge, thrilled that she’s willing to share with you. there’s a hint of vulnerability on her face as she turns back to her work, almost like she’s afraid you’d say something cruel.

“hey, working all these jobs is super cool. i’m glad you found your passion for it again. are you still getting discriminated against though?”

she seems to relax when you show that you care, that you aren’t about to judge her either. she shakes her head, that mischievous grin back in place.

“nah. when i started my transition, i started gettin’ discriminated against. i left, started my own bizz, made my own rules. turns out when your best employee fucks off and starts doing your job better, you go outta business.”

sevika’s clearly proud of herself for outcompeting her old workplace, and it makes you smile. she closes the breaker box, turning to you properly. you nearly panic- she couldn’t be done already! you didn’t have the guts to ask her out yet! you plaster on a smile, gesturing to the box.

“fuck those guys anyway. they got what’s coming to them. so… is everything alright here?” “oh yeah. your stuff’s fine. took me thirty seconds to check. i just wanted to talk to you.”

you feel something between shame and elation. she wanted to talk to you! but surely she knows you’re a freak who’s been staring at her for way too long every time she comes over to fix something and that you haven’t been able to get off without scrolling her very minimal instagram and she’s going to be mad at you for it!

normal. you are so normal.

“talk to me? about what?” “us doing somethin’ about the way you’ve been eyein’ me like you’re starved.” 

you feel your blood freeze. you’re mortified. but also not surprised. you have been doing an awful lot of staring. you’re silent for a long moment, and sevika raises her hands like she’s backing off.

“hey, no pressure. jus’ thought you’re awfully pretty, and got the vibe you’re interested. if that’s too forward-” “i’m interested! i’m so interested, oh my god.”

you blurt out, hand reaching out to grab her sleeve so she doesn’t go any further. sevika looks down at you, expression knowing and grey eyes searching yours.

“let’s drop the pretense, yeah? i want you. i keep comin’ back because i keep putting myself on these jobs.” “you do?” “duh. this pretty dorky lil thing telling me about her ducky bathmat? admiring me so blatantly? tryin’ to get me to stick around? i’m hooked. kept hoping you’d have more issues just so i could come fix them for you.”

you’ve never been so happy to not be subtle in your entire life. you visibly sigh with relief, still clinging to sevika’s sleeve, beaming at her so wide it hurts your cheeks.

“i was really hoping to see you again. i wanted to ask but… it’s not that simple.” “let me make it simple, then. we go back to that first day when i fixed your pipes. i’m gonna offer you an alternate payment. you wanna pay me with your body, or by letting me take you out?”

sevika’s leaving it all up to you, she’s happy with either option. you let out a shaky breath, deciding to be bold and finally just telling her what you want.

“both? in that order?” “desperate.”

sevika mutters, but it’s not unkind. her lips are quirked up, and she unzips her jacket, slowly peeling it off and leaving it in your hand that was holding her sleeve. she pulls a walkie-talkie out of her pocket, and speaks into it.

“i’m in apartment 203. gotta fix some minor stuff, i’ll be here longer.”

there’s a crackly affirmative, before sevika switches it off. she shrugs at the look you give her, something between disbelief and amusement.

“company time don’t mean shit if you own the company. tell me where you want me.”

you grab sevika by the bicep under the pretense of leading her to your couch, but it’s really just so you can finally cop a feel. she’s all muscle, thick and strong, and you kind of want her to crush your skull. you guide her to sit down, and then stand there a little awkwardly.

“i don’t… i haven’t…”

you try to explain, but sevika seems to already know what you need. she doesn’t ask why you’re unsure, doesn’t need to probe if it’s been a while or never before. she just leans forward, strong hands settling on your hips, looking up at you.

“give me a safeword.” “um… star?”

you say, eyes flicking over sevika’s tattoos for inspiration, settling on that prominent nautical star. she nods, satisfied.

“d’you want a little direction, sweetheart?”

you nod. despite all your yearning and lusting and desperation, you were a little stuck now that you actually had the opportunity. sevika’s hands go to her belt instead, undoing the buckle as she kicks off her heavy boots.

“on your knees.”

you sink down instantly, legs hitting your plush living room carpet. sevika hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her work jeans and boxers, lifting her ass to slide them down to collect into a puddle at her feet.

sevika’s cock bobs as it’s freed, and she’s already an impressive size half hard. you tentatively reach your hand out to wrap your fingers around her. she’s heavy in your palm, girthy. your thumb swipes slowly over her reddened tip, making her curse under her breath and the length to fill out further.

“tha’s it, sugar. getcha self familiar with my dick.”

you lean into the action, sevika’s encouragement making everything seem easier. you slowly pump her shaft, stroking her until she’s fully hard. it doesn’t take long for her cock to throb with need as your hand touches her. you lean in to tongue sevika’s ballsack as you jerk her off, making her hiss and rewarding you with a groan. 

“mm, where’d you learn that? or does it come naturally to you? maybe you’re just that much of a slut for me.”

you whine into her skin, and your hand trembles around her. sevika laughs at your reaction, somehow knowing just what to say. her large hand threads itself into the hair on top of your head.

“desperate little girl. bet you didn’t think i’d notice the way you pressed your thighs together looking at me. if i’d asked you to pay me with sex you would have, huh? filthy thing wanted to recreate a porno with me?”

you can’t even deny it, shaking your head as sevika pulls it back by your hair, tugging just enough to be both pleasure and pain. she grabs the base of her cock with her other hand, slapping her shaft against your cheek, dragging the tip and smearing precum across your lip.

“open.”

you do, and sevika rubs the tip of her cock on your tongue before bringing your head forward slowly. just a few inches, letting you adjust, before slowly pulling you back by the hair, then forward again. sevika uses your mouth like it’s a toy, but she’s also considerate. 

“god, look at those eyes. so sweet. ‘n your lips are so pretty wrapped around my fat cock. gimme your hands.”

you hold up your hands, mouth still full of cock. sevika uses the hand that isn’t in your hair to take your wrists one by one and place your hands on her thighs. you can feel the strong muscle flexing under your palms as you grip her to ground yourself.

“if y’need me to stop, squeeze twice.”

you nod, which only succeeds in stuffing another inch into your already full mouth. sevika begins facefucking you in earnest, moving your head back and forth as she lifts her hips up off the couch to slam into your mouth. your eyes are watering, you can only taste skin and sweat, your nose brushes her pubes, and you’ve never been happier. 

sevika’s head is thrown back, and she’s panting, grunting. you can feel her throbbing in your mouth as her thrusts lose their pace. you pick up the slack best you can, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue in whatever way you can. whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right, because sevika’s abs tense as she teeters on the edge.

“this fuckin’ mouth was made for me. shit- i’m cumming. swallow my load, sweetheart. attagirl.”

sevika shoots her cum right down your throat. she’s salty and a little bitter but you can’t find yourself caring about the taste, because she’s looking at you like you’re a treasure as she pulls your head away from her cock.

“you’re drooling. cute.”

she wipes your chin with her hand, smearing the mix of drool and her own cum onto her tank top like she doesn’t care who sees what she did with you. you wipe at your teary eyes, and sevika’s hand loosens, gently scratching at your scalp instead.

“you’re so good. c’mere. let me return the favour, doll.”

she pats her lap, and you scramble off your knees to follow her instructions. her softened cock presses against your ass and back, remnants of release leaking onto your dress. you can’t find it in you to care. your thighs sit atop sevika’s and she spreads her legs to part yours as well. her hands wrap around you, under your arms, cupping your chest. sevika’s hands are skilled, quickly finding your nipples despite the layers of fabric, gently rolling and pinching until she can feel them pebble.

“so responsive…”

she murmurs, nose pressed just behind your ear, whispering lowly directly to you. sevika’s hands move lower, like she’s mapping you. first, splaying over your ribcage, then tracing the lines of your sides, grabbing handfuls of whatever she can of your hips, then your thighs, gently bunching fabric in her hands. sevika hikes up your dress, letting it pool around your waist, keeping it out of the way.

“can i touch you, honey?”

sevika coos in your ear as her hands settle on your bare thighs again, fingers spreading over your inner thighs and parting your legs further for her. you nod, and sevika tuts.

“words.” “i want you to touch me, please…” “i am touching you. be specific.” “...sevika, please touch my cunt?” “better.”

your face burns with shame, and then with something else entirely as her right hand traces the line of your panties, the thumb of her left hand stroking the middle of your panties to find the damp spot that formed.

“all that from suckin’ my cock? slutty girl.”

sevika’s tone isn’t degrading, it’s affectionate, excited. she runs the pad of her thumb over your clothed slit over and over, feeling your labia cling to the wet fabric and nudging against where your clit could be until she finds it. 

she’s slow, methodical, engineered to drive you crazy. you let out a shaky whine after she presses down over your entrance just to feel your folds give way for her, and sevika shows mercy. she pulls your panties to the side, holding them out of the way with one hand. the ring and middle fingers of her other hand slide through your folds, making you shudder at the skin to skin contact. 

“you’re so wet. ‘s like your cunt is cryin’ for me.”

sevika toes the line of admiration and degradation, only making you all the more hooked on her. her fingers, slicked with your own fluids, slide inside you with little resistance or preparation. her fingers are long, calloused, thick, warm, all in a way so different to your own and anything else you’ve felt inside you. 

sevika’s got technique. it takes her very little time to find a rhythm you enjoy, her fingers curling against the spot that makes you gasp for air. she doesn’t let that go, attacking that spot over and over until you’re nearly crying, hands gripping her forearms for dear life. your hold doesn’t slow sevika in the slightest, and the noises of her fingerfucking your cunt fill the room, sloppy and wet and dirty in a way that’s like heaven.

“can you take another, baby? gotta prep you right.”

you nod, and sevika’s fingers stop instead. you let out a noise somewhere between an indignant squeak and a pitiful whimper. she just clears her throat, and you catch on that she wants you to use your words.

“i can take another.” “smart girl.”

you’re rewarded with a third finger, stretching you out beyond anything you’ve felt before. you nearly choke, dissolving into these whimpery little noises that only make sevika fuck you harder. it’s like she feeds off your desperation, and her pace never stops. her forearm muscles flex as she curls her hand up into you over and over.

sevika’s got a read on your body already. you clench around her, tighter and tighter, and she knows what’s coming. her lips find your earlobe, nipping at it as she speaks filth to you.

“you’re right there, huh? gonna cum on my fingers? c’mon, let me have it.”

you want to give sevika what she wants, and the coil of pleasure is wound up far too tight for you to stop now. your nails leave blunt little marks in her forearms as you cum, gasping out her name in way that would have an adult film director hiring you on the spot. her fingers don’t slow until you’ve rode the wave of climax all the way through, stopping just before you cry from overstimulation.

“look at you.”

sevika mutters in your ear, slowly pulling her fingers from your fluttering hole and lifting her hand up to your eye level. her index, middle and ring fingers are soaked, covered in translucent fluid that leaves strings when she pulls her fingers apart. she brings them to your mouth, and you open your mouth, sucking her fingers clean. you can taste the tang of yourself, and under it, the salt of sevika’s skin. she hums approvingly, her cock fully hard once again, pressing to the curve of your back with a vengeance. 

“i can keep going.”

you speak up as soon as her fingers withdraw from your mouth, and sevika chuckles lowly.

“i didn’t even have to prompt you for words that time. you’re learning. hop up for me, sugar.”

you stand up on shaking legs, and sevika follows suit, far less shaky and much more smug. sevika’s hands are on you again, hiking up your dress in one hand and pulling your panties down with the other, getting them far enough down for you to kick them off. she’s guiding you, helping you to get back on the couch. knees in the bottom cushion, hands braced on the back, letting you look back at sevika.

sevika lets out a low whistle as she pulls your hem back up around your waist, letting her get a look at your arched back, dripping cunt, and your winking pucker. she grabs an asscheek in each hand, pulling them apart to get the best view she can.

“shit. i’m gonna wreck this pretty hole.”

sevika grits out. she spits onto your pussy, making you shudder before she’s passing her fingers back through your slit to catch your slick and her saliva to smear over her shaft. then her hand is on the small of your back, holding you steady as she lines herself up.

“you ready?”

sevika checks in as she rubs her cockhead up and down your folds, gently parting you around her. you grip the couch harder, letting out a bratty reply in your impatience.

“if you don’t put your cock in me this instant i swear im gonn- ah- fuck…”

sevika shuts that down real quick, pushing her hips forward and burying her cock inside you in one slow, deep thrust. you’re left gasping around your words, and sevika snickers at you, hands sliding up your ass to grip your hips.

“mouthy. i’m gonna fuck th’ attitude out of you.”

that’s all the warning you get before sevika’s setting a brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit as she drives herself in and out of your cunt like she owns it. 

in this moment, she does.

you’re moaning, holding onto the plush of the couch for dear life, your cheek presses to the fabric, sliding back and forth with every thrust. you’re letting out little ‘oh, oh, oh’s that makes sevika grin wickedly behind you.

“perfect little cunt for a perfect little princess. you like feelin’ me all deep inside you?”

one of her hands moves under your stomach to press her fingers into the flesh just above your pelvis and you let out a noise you’ve never heard yourself make before. 

“so deep… s-so good, please don’t stop, sevik- ah!” “wasn’t plannin’ to.”

sevika’s hand leaves your tummy to trail lower, thumb flicking at your clit harshly. you clench around her cock, still sensitive from her fingerfucking. she doesn’t let your bucking hips stop her, keeping you pinned with her strong arm, and groans as your pussy keeps her sucked deep inside. 

your cunt is addictive. the hand that isn’t rubbing your clit trails up your spine, tanned palm sliding over your back, your nape, and then around to your throat. sevika’s just holding, not choking, but the way you react by pushing back to meet her thrusts and the spike of your already rapid pulse has sevika feral.

“fuck, please, lemme go harder. wanna make sure this pussy remembers me for days.”

you just nod, moaning an ‘uh huh!’ you’re worried she’ll stop since you’re beyond words, but sevika takes pity on you, cooing at you instead. 

“poor cockdrunk doll. don’ worry, this cunt is telling me what she needs, squeezing around me like that.”

the thumb on your clit picks up its pace, and sevika’s hips slap against yours rougher than before. her forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel her lick her tongue over your skin before she bites down. you cry out, overstimulated in the best possible way, a second orgasm taking you over.

sevika’s hands return to your hips. she slams you back onto her cock once, twice, and then she’s pulling out. you feel the liquid warmth of her cum spurting onto the curves of your ass as sevika paints you with her seed.

you feel weightless, boneless, foggy. the only thing keeping you up is the couch under your cheek and sevika’s strong hands. she’s panting, catching her breath, patting your hip.

“you look real good covered in me.”

you hear fabric rustling, and then feel the swipe of fabric as sevika wipes you down with her shirt. you tiredly turn your head to look at her, smiling slightly.

“i have like, towels and tissues for that.”

your voice has a slight shake to it still, and sevika swats your now clean butt with a smirk. 

“you’ve got a washing machine, yeah? i can just toss it in there. unless it breaks like everything else in this apartment.”

that makes you snort. sevika pulls on her boxers, and then manhandles you out of your position that’s rapidly become uncomfortable. she sits back on your couch, sits you on her lap, wraps her arms around your middle.

“don’t you have to go back to work?” “that can wait.”

and sevika finally tilts your head to catch you in a kiss that steals all the air from your lungs.

sevika leaves your apartment an hour later with a freshly washed and dried tank top, your number in her phone, and plans for a dinner date tomorrow night. 

OUGHGHGHG i missed posting yesterday but i hope i made up for it w this beast of a fic . i worked so hard on this i hope it doesnt flop . i PROMISE cry wolf pt 2 will be out soon guys . please send in other requests . masterlist and wip list coming soon as well . blue collar sevika has rotted my brain ..... drools . hope u enjoyed reading cherubs ! thank u all for 150 followers <3

you should’ve known sevika had something up her sleeve the second she pulled you into her lap after dinner, all casual with a, “c’mere, sit with me for a bit.”

but now? the tv screen is filled with moans and the wet slap of skin, a pornstar crying out while she’s being fucked, and your face feels like it’s on fire.

“don’t hide from me, sweetheart.” sevika’s voice rumbles against your ear, her metal arm snug across your stomach as you try to burrow into her neck. her free hand tilts your chin up, forcing your gaze back to the screen. “watch. look at her. see how good she’s taking it?”

you whimper, thighs squeezing tight. she notices, of course she does, her hand immediately coasting down, dragging slowly over your legs until she’s cupping the inside of your thigh.

“fuck, you’re already squirming.” she laughs softly, low and smug. “she’s gettin’ fucked and you’re soaking through your shorts, huh? dirty little thing.”

the actress on screen is having her tits sucked, and sevika’s palm finds your chest like it was planned. she fondles you lazily, thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardens through the fabric. “prettier than hers,” she murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “can’t wait to get my mouth on you. bite down, suck til you cry. you’ll let me, won’t you?”

your hips rock forward involuntarily and her grin grows against your skin. her fingers dip lower, brushing right over your clit through your shorts, making you jolt.

“ah, sevika!”

“shhh. keep watchin’, baby. don’t miss how good she looks, takin’ it like that. that’s gonna be you.”

you’re gasping now, clawing at her arm when she traces circles over your clit but doesn’t press down, doesn’t give you what you want. “please…”

she hums, feigning confusion. “please what?”

“please touch me.” you sound so broken already, and it makes her cock twitch against your ass.

“say it better.” she pushes you down harder against her thigh, forcing you to grind. “tell me you want me to play with this messy little pussy while you sit here on my lap.”

your face burns hotter. “i-i want you to touch my clit. please, vika, please play with me…”

and that’s all she needed. two fingers slip past the waistband of your shorts, rubbing your folds until they’re dripping. she teases, brushes your clit just enough to make your legs twitch.

“there she is,” sevika coos. “so needy, so perfect for me. keep your eyes on the screen while i ruin you.”

you’re crying into her neck now, half from embarrassment, half from pleasure, while she works her fingers over your clit and bounces you on her thigh. you can barely keep your eyes open, but every time they flutter shut she’s growling, “look. look at her gettin fucked. that’s what i’m gonna do to you next.”

and when you finally break, clenching around her fingers with a whimper, she holds you steady, cooing in your ear. “good girl. you came so pretty for me. again, sweetheart. i want you to come until you can’t sit straight on my lap.”

sevika’s hand strokes up and down your side like she’s soothing you, but her cock is already pressed hot and heavy against your ass through her sweats. she lets you catch your breath for all of ten seconds before her mouth is at your ear again.

“mm. look at the screen, baby. see how she’s taking cock in every hole? think you can handle at least one for me?”

you whimper, and that’s all the answer she needs.

she shifts you easily, manhandling your smaller body like it’s nothing, setting you on your knees across her lap. your ass brushes against her bulge and she groans, low and guttural. “fuck, you’re warm.”

she yanks your shirt up, just over your breasts before her mouth closes around one of your tits. the sudden, rough suction makes you yelp, clutching at her shoulders while her tongue flicks your nipple. she pulls back with a wet pop and smirks, eyes glinting. “told you. can’t keep my mouth off these.” she bites down just enough to make you squeal before sucking again, harder. and then slides one of your nipples between her tooth gap.

when she’s satisfied with the way your chest is marked up and swollen, she flips you, laying you on your back against the couch. her sweats are tugged down, dick springing free, thick and veined, the kind that makes your stomach twist with both fear and need.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” she rasps, lining it up with your soaked entrance. “you’re gonna take this cock, and you’re gonna take it better than that pornstar on the screen.”

the stretch makes you cry out immediately, your nails clawing at her back, but she hushes you with her lips against your temple. “shhh, i got you. breathe. you’re so tight, fuck.”

she bottoms out with one rough thrust, holding you open as you arch and moan her name. her pace is brutal from the start, hips slamming into yours, couch creaking, the wet slap of your cunt filling the room alongside the porn moans on tv.

“look, baby.” she grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze back at the screen while she fucks into you. “see her tits bouncing while she’s gettin railed? that’s you. that’s you right now.”

her other hand slides down, gripping your thigh so tight you know you’ll bruise. she leans down, teeth scraping the soft skin before she sucks, hard, marking you.

“gonna cover these thighs with my marks. everyone’ll know who ruins you like this.”

you’re gasping, sobbing now, words tumbling out incoherently: “sevika! too much, oh god, please”

“not too much, sweetheart,” she growls, snapping her hips harder. “you were begging for it. begging for me to touch your needy little pussy. now you’re gonna cum on this cock til i’m satisfied.”

her fingers pinch your clit and your whole body seizes, orgasm ripping through you. you scream her name, clenching tight around her strap. sevika grins, riding you through it, sweat dripping down her chest.

“that’s it. my good girl. one more for me. c’mon, i wanna see you fall apart again.”

and you do, over and over, while sevika fucks you rougher than the pornstar on the screen, whispering filth in your ear between praises, until you’re nothing but a crying, perfect mess beneath her.

you think she’s done with you when she finally pulls out, cock glistening, your legs shaking so hard you can barely hold them open. you’re slumped against the couch, chest heaving, still hearing the pornstar moaning on tv.

but sevika crouches down between your thighs, big hands prying them wider again. her lips are wet with sweat and spit when she smirks up at you.

“mm. look at her, still bouncing on cock while you’re already crying. what happened, baby? thought you were gonna show me how good you can take it.”

you whimper, trying to close your legs, but she slaps the inside of your thigh, leaving a sting. “nah, keep these pretty legs open for me.”

then she dives in— tongue sliding through your folds, groaning at the taste. you cry out, back arching off the couch, and she pins you down with one arm, keeping you steady as she eats you.

but then, then she does it. she shifts, biting down gently right above your clit, letting the gap between her teeth catch just enough sensitive skin to make you scream.

“ah! fuck, sevika!”

she pulls back just enough to smirk, chin dripping. “sensitive little thing, huh? my tooth gap’s got you crying louder than the pornstar.” and to prove it, she does it again, dragging the gap over your clit in a teasing graze, then sucking hard until your thighs are trembling around her head.

she alternates between flattening her tongue against you and catching your swollen clit between her teeth, humming low so the vibration makes you see stars. all the while, the porn moans echo in the background— wet slaps, gasps, high-pitched cries.

“listen to her,” sevika growls against your pussy before diving back in. “she sounds just like you. fuckin whiny, needy little slut, can’t stop begging for a dick. you’re perfect.”

she sucks your clit into the gap, flicking her tongue against it until you’re sobbing, body jerking. your orgasm rips through you so hard it’s almost painful, and she doesn’t stop, not even when you’re pushing weakly at her shoulders.

“mm, what? too much?” she laughs against your pussy, tongue sliding deep again. “nah, baby. you’re gonna cum ‘til you can’t hear the porn anymore cause all you’ll hear is yourself screaming my name.”

your legs are locked around her head now, and she’s relentless, devouring you, teeth teasing, tongue fucking you until you’re nothing but incoherent sounds and tears streaming down your face.