#enforcer grayson

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

You and Sevika been talking for a good while now—maybe a couple weeks or so—and she’s never seen you without your makeup off. Whenever she saw you, always dolled up with beautifully done makeup. Each and every time. It was a late night for you, chilling at home while watching some series that you’ve been binge watching for the last week and snacking on some of your favorite snacks.

While being in the comfort of your own place, you didn’t wear any makeup and just let yourself be. Mind you, you wanted to show Sevika the real you, but you weren’t just quite ready for that, so you just simply always dolled your face up when you two would go on dates and when you’re at home, that would come off—unless you would randomly do your makeup to take some photos to her whenever you both missed each other. Other than that, it was always makeup around her.

You say there in your couch with a blanket draped over you snuggly, face free from foundation, lipstick/lipgloss, mascara/false lashes, and highlighter. Your face had some blemishes since you’re human—you’re gonna have them regardless—and had little pimple patches across your cheek, forehead, and chin since your skin did NOT wanna cooperate. There were times you felt insecure about your bare face since you were used to the makeup, but even still, you couldn’t help it. Ignoring that gnawing gut in your stomach, you went back to watching your show until there was a knock on the door—thinking it was your doordash deliverer.

Happily getting up, you dashed over to the door, excited to be greeted with savory smell of your food—only to be met with Sevika looking at you, holding your doordash order in her hand. You nearly felt like crawling into a corner and dying. Your eyes widened as you took in her silver eyes peering into yours while also taking in your face, seeing that it was a rare sight to see you out of makeup. “Sevika…I didn’t know you were coming over today…”

“I know, but I decided to come anyway—by the way, your food was left on your doorstep.” She murmured lowly, nonchalantly at that as if you were just bare face right in front of her. She raised a brow at your bewildered expression, “what???” You shook your head out of your daze, crossing your arms as you just shrugged. “Nothing, I—don’t you see me without any makeup? I look hideous, Sev.”

She stared at you as if you were dumb before scoffing, sliding past you through the door and setting the bag of food on the coffee table before turning to you as you shut the door. “You don’t look ridiculous, love. I was wondering when I was gonna see ‘you’ out of all that stuff you were nearly wear 99% of the time we go somewhere.” You rolled your eyes at her snarky comment, earning a cocky smirk from her as she settled on the couch while pulling you close to her.

“Oh fuck off…i’m serious though, Sev. I literally have pimples big as tits on my face—i can barely cover them with my patches!”

“So? You don’t even look like shit without your makeup, love—I can assure you that you look absolutely perfect in my eyes…” Her arm wrapped around you waist as she flashed you a warm smile, seeing a peek of her tooth gap. She placed a warm kiss to your forehead before chuckling lowly, “yeah, maybe the patches aren’t doin you any justice, baby…”

“Sevika!”

𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

It was a peaceful night as you were winding down from the little outing you had earlier during the day. It was nice, of course, but you missed your wife dearly and would send her photos of you—all of which you had your face dolled with your usual makeup. Now, Grayson seen you a little of times with your makeup off, but not fully since you would try to do light makeup still. That was cut short when you started to notice pimple decorate your face—yeah, no more of that.

The house felt empty without Grayson since she was working late doing her respective duties as usual and you understood that, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t miss her. She’s your wife, so why would you not? You sat at your vanity while wiping off the leftover makeup, leaving you in a bare-pale-pimple covered face. You didn’t really like being bare faced, especially whenever you would be around Grayson.

Yeah, of course she always made sure to assure you that you were beautiful as the moon is in the sky countless of times, but you couldn’t grasp that. You slumped back in the chair as you sighed, leaning on your forehead before your ears picked up the sound of the door creaking open and heavy footsteps following to where you were. There she was, standing in all her glory, Grayson looked at you with a warm gaze, taking in the small frown etched on your lips.

“There’s my gorgeous wife…”

You couldn’t help but dry laugh at her, knowing she was just tryna boost your mood and also meant it as well. “Mhm, i’m everything but that right now, baby..” She rolled her eyes briefly as she stalked over to you, rubbing your shoulders as she placed a kiss to your cheek before finding her way to your lips—earning a hum of approval.

“Don’t be so down, love. You’re still precious in my eyes—makeup or not. Yes, you look gorgeous with your lovely makeup, but I also adore you without it. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s who I really fell in love with on that faithful day when you were rushing out and bumped into me, panicking that you were running late and didn’t even have any makeup on..”

god this woman was your everything.

You turned to her with a small pout of adoration and thoughtfulness at her words, taking you back to the memory you first met. “Baby, you remembered..”

“How could I not remember the time I fell in love with my world?”

hope you enjoyed bbys!! (sorry if this lowkey cringey or corny and short!!☹️)

"Because I’m better than a mirror," you grinned, eyes glued to the muscles in her thighs as she lifted and lowered with unbothered ease. “I appreciate you.”

She straightened, turning toward you slowly, dragging a towel over her chest and neck. Her skin glistened, breath steady, but there was a dangerous glint in her eye.

"And how exactly do you appreciate me, sweetheart?"

You swallowed. Hard.

Your voice was too casual. “Spiritually. Emotionally. Platonically. Very platonically.”

Grayson smirked. She knew what she was doing.

“Mm. Sure.”

She approached, rolling her neck, towel slung loose over her shoulders. You tried not to stare at her arms. Or her thighs. Or the curve of her hips in those damn shorts.

But it was Grayson. A living, breathing monument to power and patience. And right now, she was close enough that her scent wrapped around you like a trap.

She leaned down, resting one knee on the couch beside you.

“You know,” she said, low and dangerously sweet, “if you’re gonna watch me like that, the least you could do is help me stretch after.”

Your mouth went dry.

“You’re lucky I respect your workout time, ‘cause the things I’m imagining right now would absolutely ruin your form sheriff.”

Grayson cocked her head slightly, the corners of her mouth tugging upward like she was trying very hard not to grin.

“However, I am very helpful, you know,” you continued, eyes dragging shamelessly over her glistening arms and the way her tank top clung to her chest. “Flexible. Eager. Highly motivated.”

Grayson exhaled slowly through her nose, jaw flexing.

You smirked, utterly smug. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

She gave a low, amused hum. “That so?”

“Mhm. In fact…” You leaned forward, slowly running a hand up her thigh where it rested on the couch cushion, “if you asked nicely, I might even let you stretch me out.”

That finally cracked her composure. A low laugh escaped her, dark and full of heat.

She bent down in one smooth motion and kissed you deep and lingering. You kissed her back with equal confidence, grinning against her lips like the tease you were.

You kissed her back, matching her confidence with your own. Just enough tongue to tease. Just enough pressure to provoke.

When she pulled away, her breath brushed your lips and her eyes, still sharp and focused, softened just a little at the edges.

“Do you ever stop trying to seduce me?” she murmured, thumb swiping gently across your cheek.

You grinned up at her, “Not when you make it this easy.”

Grayson let out a soft huff of laughter, but her voice dropped lower, richer, like it was dragging across gravel.

“Filthy little thing,” she muttered, almost fond. “You really don’t know when to quit.”

You leaned back against the couch, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Why would I? I’m obviously very good at it.”

She leaned in again, close enough for her breath to tickle your jaw and for the tension to press hot and heavy between you.

“Mm. Too good.”

Then, like the damn tease she was, she pulled away again, straightening up with a smirk and heading back to her mat.

“Now behave,” Grayson called over her shoulder, voice low and smug. “Sit back and enjoy the show… Let mama lift.”

You froze. Blinked. Did she really-?

She turned just enough to catch your reaction, then bent down slow- extra theatrical, extra smug - fully aware you were watching her running shorts ride up her thighs as she reached for the next set of weights.

“…I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that last part,” you said weakly, eyes locked on her ass despite your better judgment.

Grayson grinned without turning. “Oh, you heard it.”

“I didn’t. I am actively rejecting the reality in which you say things like that.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Her voice was velvet and sin. “Keep telling yourself that while your eyes are still glued to my ass.”

You didn’t even pretend to look away. “Darling, you just ruined the view.”

She snorted. “Please. You’re still staring.”

“Yeah, well - now I’m doing it with conflicted emotions. You’re really out here showing your age, huh?”

That got her. She paused mid-lift, then turned her head just enough to glance at you over her shoulder - expression dark, wicked, and not the least bit amused.

“You keep talking like that,” she said, voice dropping a full octave, “and I’ll show you exactly how ageless I can be.”

Chapter 1: Lost

The sun is searing, even in the shade of the harbor buildings. You’ve got one huge, heavy bag, packed with what you decided was worth carrying from your old life. You stepped off the ship hours ago and waited. Loud, rough people pass too close, and you’re getting anxious.

Your friend isn’t coming. The only contact here hasn’t shown up.

You can handle yourself, you’re a grown-ass woman, from a tough enough town. But this harbor is strange and harsh, the twin cities unreliable, and you’re tired of rescuing yourself. You grit your teeth. You’ve been in far worse trouble. Like the mess that brought you here. No one’s following, no debts, a clean start. But you’ve never been here before, and it makes you queasy.

A deep and resonant voice wakes you from your thoughts. It’s edged with a subtle rasp that strokes something low in your spine.

“Evening. You seem a bit lost. Is there something I can help you with?”

You hardly understand the words, wrapped in that warm timbre, as you turn toward it.

Not a disappointment.

She’s tall and broad-shouldered beneath the authority of her enforcer’s uniform. Older, but strong in a robust way, and carries herself like someone who knows exactly where she stands in the world. No need to prove herself. She doesn’t have to.

“Sweetheart? Do you know where you’re going?”

An admiring look slips out before you can catch it. “No… but I’ll manage,” you murmur, trying for casual.

The corner of her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t let you get away with it. “You do need help. Tell me, pretty girl.”

You’re clearly older than ‘girl,’ and definitely no innocent. The top you’re wearing shows more skin than it needs to, and not by accident. But you like the way she says it, like the way she talks to you.

She looks worn, like someone who’s had a long day, or a hundred. There’s a smudge of dirt on her cuff and a bruise along her jaw, but the uniform is otherwise flawless. This city isn’t kind to enforcers. Especially not the ones who wear a badge like hers.

She lifts her brows questioningly. You’ve been staring too long. But gods, it’s not your fault she looks like that, not your fault she sounds like that.

A flicker of amusement tugs at her lips again, eyes drifting down your body like a slow, silent compliment in return, lingering at your hips, your bare waist. Her gaze flicks to your mouth before meeting your eyes again.

You bite your lip.

There’s no innocence in these cities, and she’s no exception. But the boldness feels honest. No pretense, no performance, just the game you both know how to play. She likes what she sees, and she knows you do too.

You turn slightly, trying to focus on your troubles, not her.

“My friend was supposed to meet me, but she’s not here. Her work can be unpredictable, but still… I don’t know… I need a room nearby so she can find me tomorrow. I’ve got the money, I just don’t know where to go.”

She nods slowly. “Will you let me help you find a place? …Take care of you?”

Her voice soothes you, but you don’t miss the two questions. The first one is easy. “I really do need help finding a place to stay.”

You breathe in as she waits. She’s letting you choose whether this is just kindness, or something more. What do you want this to be?

And gods, you naughty thing… You do want to surrender. You’ve already been brave enough to get here, and it’s been hard for so long. Letting her hold you up for a moment wouldn’t be weak or wrong, not if you both want it. She’s solid. And from somewhere deep inside you, something tries to loosen. Not peace, just less weight, for once.

You look down, thinking, and she doesn’t rush you. But the decision isn’t hard with the flutter low in your belly. Tomorrow, you’ll take it all back. The stress of life, difficult choices, the fight to survive. You’ll do it alone again. But tonight, just for a moment, you want to be held and let someone else steady you. She’s here, and if you keep your eyes on hers, maybe you can give in a little.

Her gaze is calm as you give your answer the way she must want it. Offered, certain, and willing. And a little breathless.

“And I am in need of care.”

Her smile stays composed, but there’s more focus in her eyes. Like she’s locking in now that you’ve said yes. And she steps a little closer. Just close enough that you feel her presence settle around you.

“Baby girl, call me Grayson.”

No titles. Just her name.

You smile softly.

“Grayson.”

And breath by breath, you let your usual mustered confidence fall away, getting ready to lean into her.

But Grayson just picks up your bag and starts walking. You have no choice but to follow. She doesn’t touch you, only stays close. Her strong, steady arm is right there, near enough to reach, and for a long moment, you don’t touch either, but just ache, being that close. She’s so there. Maybe she’s testing you.

Carefully, you reach out and brush the sturdy fabric of her uniform sleeve. Grayson glances at you with a teasing twinkle that leaves you a little dizzy. So you slip your hand around her forearm, like it’s nothing. But of course it isn’t nothing. It’s everything. You’re holding on. Letting her lead.

And you imagine that if she weren’t carrying your bag, she’d pat your hand where it rests.

“Have you eaten?” Grayson asks. Her voice is grounding, not really a question, like she already knows the answer.

Caught off guard, you blink. You hadn’t thought about it, too wrapped up in waiting, in managing, but now that she’s said it, the hunger hits. You’re starving.

Grayson of course sees it. “Thought so,” she says, already turning down a quieter side street. “Come on. We’ll get you something decent to eat before anything else.”

You follow. There’s no room to argue, and honestly, you don’t want to. This is what you need. To be taken care of.

* * *

The café is tucked away. It’s quiet and cozy, and in the air there’s fresh bread, strong tea, and sweet spices. The owner greets Grayson with a knowing nod. This is her city. 

Grayson orders for both of you without hesitation, glancing your way, not really asking, just confirming what she already knows will be fine.

You nod, not wanting to question it. It’s nice, not having to figure out what’s good or think too hard about what you want.

And now you know exactly what she is. The look and feel of her. The way she leans down to hear what you think you need, just to decide for you. She wants to take care of you as much as you want her to. 

You try not to think about what you’re doing. Right off the ship. But changing cities doesn’t change you, and she’s unusually unshakable. It makes you want to fall.

“You’ll feel better after this,” she says, taking the seat across from you. And, oh, the way she says that like something absolute, something you’re just meant to accept.

You sink into your sandwich to keep your hands busy, mumbling, “Thank you,” softer than you meant.

Grayson smiles, tearing her bread. “What brings you to the cities, besides the missing friend?”

You swallow. “I work with gear. Combat gear. Design, repairs, special mods. Had a business back home before…” You trail off. She doesn’t need the whole story yet.

She lifts a brow, approving. “Useful work. This place eats that up. If it doesn’t eat you first.”

You smirk. “I’m not easy to chew.”

Grayson chuckles, low and scratchy. “You picked a hell of a time to show up. It’s been rough lately. But then again, it often is. These cities together like this… A couple of weeks of really ugly messes, and the last few days have been the worst of it.” 

She’s tired. It wears her down, like she needs a break from life just as much as you do. You can be that for her.

Glancing at the bruise along her jaw you say, “Looks like a hard job.”

She shrugs, but it’s heavy. “Comes with the badge. I didn’t use to mind. Thought I’d do this until I dropped. But lately… I don’t know.  Just wish the cities would take a breath sometimes.”

You eye her uniform, the shoulder armor. It’s beautifully and well made. You want to inspect the protective layers beneath, but the fact that she needs it? That unsettles you. What kind of place is this?

Without thinking, you reach out and touch the back of her hand where it rests on the table. Grayson stills. You get a glimpse of something vulnerable in her, but it only makes her feel more real, safer. You smile, and she turns her large hand to hold yours, thumb brushing across your skin.

“Ready to go find you a place for the night?”

You squeeze her hand and nod.

* * *

As you leave the café, you take her arm again. It means more now, but somehow, it’s not enough. You stop walking, unsure what’s wrong with you, what you need.

You look at Grayson. She  sets your bag down, because she already knows.

Slowly, she touches your cheek, your lower lip. Her other arm wraps steadily around your waist, waiting. When you lean in, press close, she lifts your chin and kisses you.

It’s a rush you don’t expect. Maybe it’s the way she pulls you out of the world, holds you in just this moment, maybe that’s what gives her power. But deep down you know it’s because she can take care of you. Take care of anything.

Her mouth is gentle on yours. The kiss is sure and patient, and you open to her without thinking. She feels you melt, the way you cling, the way you give in, and pulls you closer.

One hand settles behind your neck, fingers soft and firm, holding you here. The other drifts lower, and her wide palm finds the base of your spine, anchoring you with the quiet weight of certain control.

Grayson kisses you like she already knows you’ll fall apart for her. She devours you carefully, without hurry, knowing just how much to take. Just enough to leave you trembling.

Your thoughts scatter. There’s only her. Her strong arms. Her soft mouth. The way your body yields so perfectly into hers.

When she finally pulls back, it’s not all calm. Her breath stutters against your cheek, and she tenses for a moment, like you just loosened something in her. She looks at you like she just found something she didn’t foresee.

Then she leans in, her voice charming at your ear, and just the right kind of suggestive. “You like giving in, don’t you? Come on. Let’s get you settled.”

You shiver and hum, barely there.

She picks up your bag again, but this time, her hand finds yours. And this time, she’s the one who holds on.

You feel like Grayson just caught you mid-fall.

* * *

The harbor hotel lobby is quiet, with dim lighting and worn velvet chairs. It’s not fancy, but it feels safe. The woman at the desk is polite and welcoming.

Grayson moves like she belongs here, but you are certain now she belongs everywhere in this city.

“Room,” she says. You wonder if the woman behind the desk feels her voice like you do, humming inside you, the way it settles low.

She straightens at once. “Of course. Name?”

Grayson turns to you. You lean on her arm. She’s still holding your hand, so you squeeze and nod, giving silent permission.

She turns back. “For two.”

The words travel through you like heat.  Your breath catches, and she hears it. Her shoulders tense, like keeping herself from doing more.

The woman doesn’t ask questions. Just hands over the key with a courteous smile. Grayson thanks her, then picks up your bag again. Grip on your hand tightens slightly as she pulls you toward the stairs.

* * *

Chapter 2: Touch Me

Grayson opens the door but then just stands there, hand still on the handle, watching you walk into the room. You pause and realize that in her honorable way, she might not come in unless you ask her to. What if she doesn’t come in at all? The thought cuts cold through your want.

So, you walk back to the door and carefully touch the collar of her jacket. Lifting your gaze to meet hers you brush fingertips along the lapel of the uniform, then slightly tug it. 

Your voice wavers. “Grayson, please… touch me.”

The corner of her lip lifts up and her eyes crinkle as she draws a slow deep breath. Her hand wraps around your wrist, just to hold it against her chest, like she’s saying she heard you. The door clicks shut behind her.

She touches your jaw, thumb brushing lightly, fingers trailing the curve of your throat, watching you need her.

Then she guides you to hold on to her, cling to her shoulders. You feel her want in her movements. It’s quiet and restrained, but undeniably there, as she pulls you from your waist against her. She feels so solid, and at the same time hard and soft against you.

“I’ll touch you,” she says low, kissing you, “as much as you want.”

You exhale in such relief that she smiles, and the next kiss is deeper, claiming not just your mouth, but you. Tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking to be let in, and your spine tingles as you do.

One hand trails down your side, until she holds you at your lower back, fingers spread wide, keeping you close. The other slips into your hair, holds you in place, and you melt into that control.

Her mouth moves lightly along your jaw. You tilt your head to give her room, and a soft whine escapes from your throat.

She hums and nuzzles beneath your ear, breathes you in, as her fingers slide up your back, under your top, like testing you.

Pushing into her, you try to move her, to do something more, to hurry her. But she doesn’t hurry. You feel her grin against your neck, amused by your impatience, as she takes her time taking your top off, pulling it over your head. 

You try not to look too eager when you help your arms out of the short sleeves. She sets it on the couch next to you.

Stepping back a little she looks at you, thumb brushing across your nipple. “You’re so beautiful in my hands.”

She captures your mouth again, then starts kissing lower. There’s hurry in it now, maybe for your sake. Restraint breaking on your behalf.

Sitting down on the couch, she pulls you to stand between her knees, mapping her way down your body, taking time at your breasts. You sink your fingers into the shorter hairs at the nape of her neck as her tongue circles, then soft lips on your nipple, as her hands move to the waistband of your pants.  You fist her hair lightly when she opens the front.

Then she looks up at you. Lips parted, your answering gaze is all she needs to be sure. She slides your pants down and you step off them. 

Your underwear is the only thing left as she rises to stand, hands tracing the lines of your body.

You reach to brush along the edges of her uniform jacket. There is so much armor on it. It looks so handsome on her, but you need it off. 

She unbuckles the heavy belt herself and places it on the couch. You open the metal clasps of her jacket, fingers trembling and fumbling. She doesn’t rush you, but watches you, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with you wanting her, if she’s allowed to have that.

Sliding your hands beneath the open jacket, your palms smooth over the white shirt. Between the jacket and her robust strength there is safety. 

Your arms wind around her middle, into the soft warmth, like trying to fit inside the jacket with her. She holds her breath and kisses the top of your head, wraps her arms around you and closes her eyes for a moment. 

Then she shrugs out of the jacket and drapes it across the back of the couch. 

Keeping palms flat on her belly, you watch her turn her sleeves up between you with efficient movements. Strong hands and arms used to handling weapons and criminals, that surely know how to hold someone still just right.

She pulls you with her backing toward the bed, sits at the edge, and draws into her lap. You straddle her, knees against the mattress. Strong thighs are under yours, legs spread wide, in a stance for stability. Your bare chest is against the crisp fabric of her shirt, her breath hot on your neck.

And then she tugs you further in, right against her, gripping your hips. And thank gods, you’re still in your underwear, because without that last scrap of fabric, you’d be soaking the front of her trousers. A low grunt as she feels the heat of you so close.

And then, without meaning to, or maybe because you mean to, you rock your hips against her.

It sends a pulse through both of you. Your gasp is airy, her groan low.

Then she gives up some restraint. Says nothing and just moves.

Hands slide under your thighs, and in one seamless shift, she lifts you off her lap.

You grab on, legs wrapping around her. But she wouldn’t drop you. On her knees, she places you in the middle of the bed. Lays you down like you belong there. Belong to her.

Your back to the bed, Grayson over you, you feel content, breathing her scent in, before remembering your need. It hits like a wave. But Grayson is ahead of you, thigh pushing between yours, pressing against your core. 

You rock your hips up gently and she lets you have your way, watching your ache, before pressing herself against you. The sensation of her weight ripples through your body.

But she doesn’t move, only whispers, “Let’s not hurry this.” 

You give a small sound of protest. “Please, Grayson…” 

She chuckles low, one hand already finding its way down your body. When you whine for more, she follows the line lower. Kissing your throat, sucking your nipple, mouthing your belly. You lift toward her, but she doesn’t go straight to where you need her, lips brushing your hip, your thigh. You can’t wait much longer.

Your panties are damp and show just how much she affects you. She hums, then curls her fingers around the waistband and pulls them off. 

Her gaze drags slowly from your legs to your sex, your stomach, your chest, and finally, to your face. You see she likes it. Still, you feel a little self-concious and involuntarily shift. Catching it, she leans down to kiss your hip again,

“Shh, you’re perfect.” And something in her sure voice makes you believe her.

Hands return, delicately touching first, then pressing your thighs wider. Nothing in you resists opening up to her. She settles there, arms wrapping beneath your thighs. One hand resting on your belly, the other keeping your thigh tight to her shoulder.

Her mouth touches the crease of your thigh, then the other. Then again, but with her tongue, until you soften completely in her arms.

And finally, no more detours.

Flat tongue, light, slow stroke, all along your folds.

You gasp, hips twitching, and grasp her hand on your abdomen. Holding you firmly open, she groans into you. The sound vibrates through your skin.

No flicking or teasing. She presses her tongue softly at first, then in firm, long stripes, sinking between your folds until you’re clutching her hand.

Against your skin, it’s warm and perfectly clear. “Stay still, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You try your best to stay still for her, as that tongue carefully learns you. 

And at last, your clit. She doesn’t just lick one way, she tries to find what you like. The tip of her tongue dragging, swiping different directions, mouth surrounding and gently sucking, until she finds your way. You pant and whimper, let her hear everything, moans starting to tremble, until she finds the rhythm that makes your hips lift and your whole body shake. 

Her eyes don’t leave your face, like she’s not just devouring your body, but everything you’re giving her, your surrender. She grabs tight around both your thighs and holds you still, tongue never faltering.

“Grayson…” you whisper, just before you come, sudden and unbounded. She holds you through it. Her mouth doesn’t leave you. Not until you’re done. Not until you tug her up to you.

She pulls you into her arms, and you hold on tight, tucking your face into her shoulder, heart still pounding.

One hand cups the back of your head, lips brushing your temple. Her voice is husky in your ear. 

“Good girl. You did so good for me. Just like I wanted you.” 

You shudder as she whispers, “Let’s not end yet.”

Her hand slides down, and somehow, you still want more. She explores you first, tracing the slick between your folds with her strong fingers, then gently presses one in. Then two, deep and assured. You arch into it, breath catching.

She shifts lower, just enough to sink them to the knuckle and curl just right. Her hands don’t hesitate and you pant short, little breaths. 

A soft kiss at your jaw. “So sweet. So open.” Pressing to that spot inside on every stroke. You whine and bury your face in her hair. She holds you close. Lets you hide for a moment. Lets you feel her steady.

But then, still low but firmer now, “Look at me.”

You don’t move, eyes closed, thoughts only on feeling.

“Baby,” she murmurs, fingers still moving inside you, “let me see you.” The hand at your back presses just slightly. A nudge.

She doesn’t just want to give you this. She wants to share it. To watch you take it. To witness what it does to you.

“Sweet thing…” Her lips brush your jaw, coaxing you back. You turn, breathing hard. And gods, the way she looks at you, like you’re the only thing she wants to see.

Her thumb brushes gently over your clit, syncing with the curl of her fingers inside you. You’re so close.

Her gravelly voice sinks into you. 

“That’s it. Just let it happen.”

Her rhythm never falters. Looking into her sure eyes, you hold on to her.

“There she is…” she murmurs. “Let me feel you fall apart for me.”

And you do fall apart for her. Whimpering her name again.

When you come, it’s not just her fingers, or her gaze, or her heavy body steady against you, it’s also her deep voice,

“That’s it. My girl. Good girl.”

Hips trembling, thighs shaking, your eyes blur, but you keep looking at her. Sobbing, maybe. Moaning her name. You don’t know. But she does, because she watches you the whole time, fingers working, holding you together through it.

“You’re doing so good, darling”

And when your body stills, she cradles your head to her neck. Her hand stays between your thighs, not inside or moving anymore, just resting there.

You’re curled against her as your breathing evens. Her solid body surrounds you, and you feel so safe and wanted, cared for. 

She hums softly.

You’re not sure how to offer it, but you want to give something back. To touch her, if she wants it.

So, gingerly, your hand trails down. Across her stomach, still covered by her shirt. Then lower, to the waistband of her trousers.

Your fingers dip there, offering to give.

Turning your face from her neck you peek up at her, a silent question.

She exhales slowly through her nose. Looks into your eyes like she’s searching for something. Then the arm around your back tightens, nudges, gives permission.

So you go further. Warmth. Heat. Wet. All because of you.

She moans quietly into your hair.

You find her with your fingers. She’s tense, but bit by bit, she relaxes into your touch. She doesn’t guide you, doesn’t speak. Just holds you, face buried in your hair, breath stuttering at your ear.

You worry whether you’re doing it right for her, fingers moving carefully. She doesn’t buck or writhe. But when she presses in, hips pushing subtly into your hand, you start to feel more confident, and quicken your pace.

You feel her start to shake before she makes a sound.

And when she comes, she comes into your hand like she can’t help it. A broken groan. Arms lock around you, holding you to her chest as her body tenses, then shudders apart. For a moment, she is yours.

She doesn’t let go. Even when her breath steadies. Even when your hand stills and slips back up to her waist. She just holds you there, tight in her arms, mouth pressed to your temple.

Her voice, when it comes, is ragged. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum to her, glad to have taken care of her too.

She feels close, not just in body, but in everything.

Grayson shifts first. One hand smooths up your back, the other slides beneath your thigh as she adjusts you, so you’re both comfortable, your weight resting fully against her.

A rumble from her chest. “You okay?”

You nod against her. “Yeah… Are you?”

She exhales and rests her head against yours.

“Now I am.”

Eventually, your breaths even together. Your eyes flutter shut.

Just before you drift to sleep, she murmurs, “Baby girl.”

You whisper back, “Grayson.”

Then, silence.

And sleep.

* * *

That’s how you wake the next morning. Your hand resting over her belly, snuggled up against her.

Voices drift in from outside, and you can recognize one of them. You don’t want to move, but life is waiting, and it’s time to return to it.

Grayson watches as you peek out the window, wrapped in a blanket. To your relief, it’s your friend chatting with the hotel concierge. She found you.

You crack the window open, call to her and wave, promising to come down once you’re dressed. She gets the hint not to come up, and makes a questioning gesture at the blanket you’re wearing, and laughs. You bite your lip and shut the window quickly.

Grayson is already up, standing in the middle of the room, pulling on her uniform jacket. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles wide, clearly well-rested.

You walk over, uncertain, but she’s as calm and steady as ever. She pulls you close and leans down to kiss you.

Then says in her grounding voice, maybe as much to herself as to you,

“You’re going to be alright now.”

And you know you will be.

➤ Sevika 

For Sevika the notion of a quiet night was a lot, but occasionally this was; arriving at her apartment in Zaun (the only good thing about being Silco's second in command) where you usually arrived earlier since you worked in the weapons factories, hence you arrived before her. So arriving was a daily process, arriving at the place they shared where it always smelled like a meal cooked a little at a time, sometimes it smelled like a familiar food or a random dessert.

She craved something sweet.

She never knew how her partner was always aware of when she was craving something sweet, but she had an uncanny accuracy to it and today after dealing with Jinx's problems, having to fix them and not being able to complain because Jinx's self-proclaimed father would tell her to shut up, as if her job included babysitting a girl over 18. Fuck.

"From here I can see smoke coming out of that head of yours Vika."

Before she could even articulate a word a plate with a generous piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her with a cutlery, she justly occupied something sweet to get over the bad drink.

"...again another mess I had to clean up" she grumbled annoyed, not in the mood to elaborate.

"Jinx, right?"

Sevika just affirmed, before taking the first bite, the chocolate exploded in his mouth and relaxed him a little, it was the little treats you usually always gave him, along with intimacy, and a life together that softened his heart.

"I don't want to bore you with the details sweetie" he replies before taking another bite of cake.

"you never bore me what happened Vika?"

The best nights are those where he eats something sweet prepared by the hands of the woman he loved and just talk, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything, about the future they dreamed together as children (although it was not the same it was close to what they imagined although with the difference that she herself could never give you everything she dreamed of giving you), about how they were so fucked up that nothing could get them out of that hole but together it was worth it or about the day of both of them. Sometimes she allowed herself to daydream, to dream of a better life to be able to give her partner, a place where they both didn't have to be so meddled with everything they knew would cost them in the long run.

"I love you Vika" you whispered in a syrupy voice, before stealing a kiss from Sevika that tasted like chocolate and expensive cigars.

Sometimes Sevika felt good like this.

➤ Jinx (Powder)

Mylo's voice sometimes upset her more than she could bear, more than she was willing to tolerate and she felt like scratching her scalp until she reached her skull, to go even further to her brain and to be able to shut up that irritating voice. Now she was not the Powder who felt bad about everything, who felt her spirit die with every veiled insult, with every "whenever something goes wrong, you bring bad luck" or with every memory that she tried hard to forget because she would not have them anymore, because she would never have access to more of it. So she became engrossed in improving her pumps, making the closed circuit more precise and making sure no one could see inside them.

"Silco says you haven't eaten in a few blue days."

Jinx hears you, clearly he does as your voice is the only one capable of getting through all the voices swirling in his ears; Mylo scoffing and Claggor pointing out a few things on his pump, thanks a thousand times your voice.

"...Silco says a lot of things" he grumbles before pressing the pump in the perfect closed loop to throw it towards the vacuum under the huge turbine where his workshop was located listening to the explosion "but he's right this time, I haven't eaten and I don't plan to...Did you cook me? Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Sometimes she regrets everything that was going on, but the only thing that made her feel good and maybe somewhat lucky (contrary to what Mylo was always saying in her ear) to have a girl who was in love with her and who cared for her in her own way, sometimes she thought that your love kept her halfway sane, but er a secret that she would take to her grave forever.

Powder, in the past knew what filial love, support and warmth felt like.

Until blue came along to change everything.

Jinx, knows what fear is in the eyes of others, what affection for identification is since Silco saw himself in her but never knew to what degree which led him to treat her as a daughter which he sincerely appreciated, and knew what pure love meant, love without adultery.

You, blessed and cursed be you loved her for every positive and negative trait, you held her in her crises, you embraced her when nightmares destroyed her bone by bone, and when pink detonated her. You had seen the worst of her being, that lurid, dirty, stained and ground to a bloody pulp and yet you could love her, encourage her, tell her the truth and be her pillar. You seemed to be forged in heaven with a resilience that only the devil could create, or so she formulated.

"Have you cracked the Hextech theory yet?" you question interested, looking over her shoulder at her work leaving her to eat in peace and her space.

Jinx takes a while to pass the huge mouthful of food she had taken, but it was a sandwich with everything she liked and she finally had something in her stomach, she didn't know how but every food you touched tasted a thousand times better.

"something like that" she replies as she passes the bite with a gulp of apple juice, and her mind betrays her with remembering that you had a huge gallon of apple juice in your home just for when she visited did that feel like being loved? maybe yes "they are equations, calculations, instruction and so on, sequences of steps but I have a little trouble deciphering them, I have to recreate the, understand them so I can replicate them, and runes I think? I think they are runes and I don't know what they mean, but an easy job would be boring."

"wow that sounds complicated"

She only nods at your words, before she feels the gentle weight of your bandaged hand against her slender shoulder, and immediately identifies the weight of your hand on her. A welcome weight, loved, adored even and she melts all over, mouth full; your lips softly against her hundred, with warm, abiding love.

"Blue luck" you say in a soft voice, just for her.

Jinx stays alone in her workshop, a plate of food on her desk with another sandwich which she must finish because it is a crime not to finish the food you make her with so much love next to the big glass of apple juice, a glass which you yourself had made for her filled with soft drawings of the sky clouds over a gradient in blue of different shades until bordering on black. Her old glass had broken and you, bless you, had made her a new one, a new meaning that didn't make her retch from time to time.

How much did you love her? She thinks, maybe, you loved her very much and that comforts her.

➤ Caitlyn Kiramman. 

For Caitlyn to really feel her mother's rejection for her career was like a little thorn embedded in her skin and to be reduced to only having patrols in the Piltover shopping area was a bruise on the flesh, blood grinding and reminiscent of the annoyance from time to time, she hates it. She hates that it left her on patrols in expensive stores, the commercial sector and plaza of Piltover where nothing was going on.

It took her away from the countryside where she wanted to be to see the world outside of golden Piltover.

But, as always, she found the good part of it, she could sneak away and escape at times to that elegant, beautiful and minimalist store full of beautiful flowers exported from murky waters, Bandle City, Demacia, the Freljord, Ixtal, Ionia, Noxus, Targon and Zaun, that's a lot of flowers that are on display for all who can and want to buy, a beautiful and elegant flower shop. Whenever you went in there it was a delight to your nose since it smelled like a combination of flowers, a sweet, clean and you perfume. Although it was an irony since you always smelled of flowers, and perfume.

You were her safe place.

Caitlyn makes her way pretending to check until she reaches the flower shop and enters, opening the thick ornate glass doors that only allowed a partial view of the flower shop and when she steps inside, the amalgamation of scents so pleasant hits her nose in a friendly way and then she sees you, you're in the back room she sees you coming and going with flowers in your hands, so he takes the trouble to put up the sign "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" which always gave him grace and advanced through the store seeing the elegant furniture in pleasant tones to the back room where you are humming creating very elegant flower arrangements with a crystal flower in the middle of other more extravagant and beautiful ones. She leans against the door frame, watching you create those beautiful floral arrangements before rapping her knuckles on the door.

"Did I tell you that you look like a fairy?" she questions with amusement, it's a sweet nickname she's always had for you

"This fairy witnesses an enforcer skipping her patrols? The audacity" you reply with a chuckle, amused "Mistress Cassandra put you on a leash again pretty girl?"

She snorts when she hears you, stepping fully into the back room closing the door seeing that in the back there are even more flowers on huge furniture acclimating for them "You know, she's got the short leash for me and daddy couldn't dissuade her, so I'll be here for a few weeks."

"Then we can have lunch together. What do you think?" you offer, looking for something good in between everything.

"it would be a crime not to take advantage, sure do you fancy going for lunch? I've already put up your "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" sign" she says with amusement at the text you created when you got your own place

"Oh come on, it's original miss enforcer."

Yeah, maybe there was something good about patrolling the shopping area.

➤ Mel Medarda. 

"Don't move so much dear" Mel says, without the need to see you as she hears the soft sound of the silk sliding across your skin and is concentrating on the canvas finishing finding the exact tone of your skin, as if she has it memorized already "I don't want to lose the pose I indicated".

"It's just that my thigh itches" you grumble with a disgruntled pout because of the itch and when Mel allows you to move, you scratch just a little and return to the pose that is not so uncomfortable, leaning back against an elegant armchair that Mel had acquired just for you when they started living together with only a silk covering your skin in the areas where they should be covered "Aren't you bored? I am, talk about something, I don't know."

"A troubled muse, from what I see" adds with a chuckle Mel, smiling combining the tones in the palette watching you with deep gaze analyzing your anatomy, how your thighs joined your wide hips with a softness as if you were molded by the gods themselves and maybe, it was true "I'm almost done and I'll take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant"

"I want desserts" you jump with excitement, not realizing how the silk falls from your chest revealing your breasts and you remember your possess returning to her with blushing cheeks "Sorry love"

Mel just smiles, and finds even more charming the pose you came to be in, a gentle evolution of the original pose, demure and sensual, almost an innocent combination, as your gaze falls to the side as a soft embarrassment, but notice your sidelong glance at herself, a gaze full of love and glow. It is one of the many canvases she has created, in a long list of paintings that are in her living room and there will be one more.

"You should order food first, if you eat only desserts your stomach will hurt" she points out, adding more shadows.

"Mel" you complain in a whiny and annoyed tone, holding the pose.

"Food before, dessert after and rosé wine" tries to convince Mel already knowing your eternal love for sweet, and well sweet comes back to sweet

"...okay"

"Good girl"

Silence fills the room, and Mel continues with the painting on the canvas, trying to portray your sweet self until your voice again is heard, she loves that you are that sweet and somewhat whiny woman, because it is only in moments like these where you show how spoiled she has you, and it must be so, something she learned in Noxus (maybe the only good thing) that couples will always be priority and keeps you pampered, spoiled and happy, like you have her happy always.

"Almost there?"

Yes, she loves those moments where your gaze meets hers and you look like a spoiled little princess but there is a sweet fun in your eyes that she loves and finds herself adoring.

"I think I'll paint other canvases."

"Mel!"

He just laughs, continuing, he loves when you are his muse, because in retrospect you are always his muse even when you wake up disheveled and when you are dazzlingly beautiful decked out in the best dresses. He simply loves you.

➤ Grayson. 

he stress of work weighs heavy on his body, he almost feels twice his age and when he gets home, the aroma of a meal cooking wafts from the kitchen delighting his nose and being, you are his home and he adores you, you are the perfect wife. He distracts himself by taking off his boots in the entryway, stepping onto the cold living room floor passing through the spacious living room before he gets the soft smack of you impacting against his body and he can only smile, you always do that even when they were young and he loves those effusive hugs.

"You know I come home dirty from work honey" he speaks in a soft, gravelly voice close to your ear, squeezing his arm around your shoulders and kisses your hundred, savoring that expensive cream you love so much and keeps your skin smooth, from which he steals from time to time

"You know I don't mind, I must give you your hug every time you arrive" you grumble against his suit, he smells a bit humorous and a bit sour, he sure did patrol in Zaun with the recent peace treaty between the two cities and you cling to his chest, before looking up seeing him with loving eyes, Grayson is so beautiful beyond belief and as the years go by she only gets more attractive and handsome, you love that rugged and gentle air which combine masterfully in her and you stand on tiptoe kissing her "Welcome home, I'm making your favorite but I'll leave it on low heat and I can give you a bath."

"Do I look so old that you already ueires to give me a bath yourself?" she questions, with light humor frying her nose against your cheek holding you against her body, hugging you lovingly and loving the sweetish scent on your skin.

"It's not that" you say, with a pout before kissing his jaw and biting it gently "But I want to spoil you, you're the man of the house" you add, with dark humor that only your wife understands.

Grayson can only smile, the black humor between the two was a way to deal with turbulent issues with their respective families, in your own case your father disowned you for marrying a woman (a beautiful and special woman, it should be clarified) which was something that hurt you at the time but now is a topic they make jokes like that about, and in your case your parents hated you from the beginning for not being male and well, black humor is being able to make fun of everything that can hurt them and well, in your marriage humor is never lacking.

"Well, well I can't deny my sweet wife anything."

The trip to the bathroom in the master bedroom where you both have slept for years, the uniform is left in the laundry basket and you step into the shower, getting all the dirt off listening to you humming as she watches you through the glass door that blurs everything and when she steps out, her own nakedness doesn't bother her and you less, you've seen each other naked before in all the marriage os, there's nothing sexual and when she touches the hot water with soothing salts, she almost melts against the marble, even more so when she feels your hands in her hair smearing the conditioner which keeps her frizzy hair in place and your fingers against her scalp almost makes her purr, melt against you.

"Don't you get tired of pampering me honey?" she questions in a deep voice, relaxed against the tub.

"Don't you get tired of loving me? Of waking me up with kisses? Of taking me on dates to places I tell you about and always remember? Of being the love of my life?" you question, voice soft and flowing, stroking her scalp taking care of her hair.

"Never."

"We're on the same page."

Grayson knows what it's like to feel loved, he knows what it's like to love, and he wouldn't change a thing about his life, he wants to love you for millennia if possible, in this life and beyond.

➤ Ambessa Medarda. 

"You know it's going to be hard" you say, to the air listening to her heavy, steady footsteps against the white marble floor of your personal library in the palace, your wife in all her warrior and emotionally constipated glory wandering around pacing, and you just leave her drawing the memory of the meal you had with your daughter and son-in-law; Mel and Jayce, they make such a cute couple it's inevitable not to portray them, you'll give it to your daughter.

"I know, things are never easy and even less so with Mel."

"Well, if you were banished you'd be upset too and remember, I almost divorced you, so do better."

Ambessa bites her lip, remembering that turbulent moment, as cruel as it is, that she embodies the fox and the wolf at the same time she loves her family with all her being, with everything and she could destroy a thousand regions in order to protect them, strip herself of her humanity in order not to lose them, which is a paradox since she herself banished her daughter, the daughter she loved so much and who exasperated her so much because Mel was like her before she touched death, before accepting that she could become that warlord that her clan needed because she would not throw her wife to that place although, in a global vision of everything she knows that her wife is a fox in the skin of a rabbit, she is the most lethal strategist of Noxus that even the other four warlords respect and rightly so, she does not need strength or a cannon to subdue the rest, to prove her worth and Mel also inherited that. Her daughter was, in retrospect the culmination of their love for each other in her.

"I know" she replied, annoyed but not addressing her properly dropping into the long nest you must always have in your personal library and when she sees how you put down your notebook, she comes over dropping her head in your lap "but...I really want to sort it all out."

"Have you tried talking to her yet, telling her the truth?" you question, running your fingers through her hair between wavy and curly, unruly letting her cling to your legs, her hand large and calloused against your bare leg due to the Noxus dress you wore, her fingers though they carried death and carried blood to no end on your skin, on your flesh they were gentle "...that time was hard, and you proved your point, I wasn't ready to go through that ordeal like Kino did, Mel is diplomatic and doesn't value war, death and blood like you were raised and what you held on to, but what you hold high for your clan, for your family and well Kino is just like you but with a little diplomacy in the recipe."

She just sighs, feeling your caresses and lets her guard down, feeling naked and vulnerable, nerves in the air and in your sight "I know, it was selfish of me to push her away, save her from what would end up like us"

"acknowledging it is the first step, Kino has already spoken to you and her sister, all that remains is to give that head of yours time my love."

Ambessa never knows how you can love her, weapons, blood and death, trouble recognizing her own feelings, and a fierce strength to keep her family alive, her clan but, well she wants to bathe in your love, receive your caresses and delicacy. Only you have seen this vulnerable side and yet you love it. You have seen her crying after her first war, when she came back with blood on her hands and partially broken psyche, but you were there holding her tight despite the size difference, you held her all night long letting her cry until, she became the warlord she is now.

"...Will you be with me there when I talk to Mel?"

"I'll never leave you Bess, you married me and you'll never get rid of me in hell."

And if Ambessa was true to herself, heaven, hell and earth, she always wants to be with you. With loving softness which she professes only to you, she holds your wrist kissing your pulse sliding the kisses down to your finger where a red gold ring in the shape of a vine with a crystalline diamond adorns your ring finger above the black band, she made those rings herself and you never take them off your hands.

"Then I'm in luck, because I never want to leave you."

➤ Renata Glasc. 

He knows the feeling of climbing from the depths of mud, garbage and waste to position himself at the top of the city of iron and glass, installing a house in Piltover that became the central in medicine, cost horrors but here he was today controlling Zaun from the clouds and among the light air which does not make the lungs tremble. She grew at the expense of the misfortune of others, but, in Zaun is common and controls everything, leaving a certain slack to the rest of the barons and baronesses giving them the false sensation of power and freedom, to destroy them if she believes that they will put themselves in the same step where she is.

She is privileged to be at the top of the food chain in Zaun and Piltover, even if those pilties don't know it.

Many describe her as a cruel and cold woman, she is that and more. But, if his wife asked her to freeze hell she would do it. The only truth was, your wife was the one who possessed your purest and most sincere love which she has extracted from her cold chest just for you, leaving her heart in your flimsy hands. Therefore, he finds it fascinating to look at you, to admire your body, your silhouette and various expressions, your soft hands and how your skin no longer shows that sickly tone from lack of sun.

"Stop staring at me like that Ren" you say, in a soft whisper, shy like the first time he saw you.

"Darling it's impossible to stop looking at you, you are my wife and I love to admire you" Renata replies in a deep voice, approaching with fluid steps to you, where you gently place every little piece of mirror on the wall of her office, you were her little artist "...you are a natural artist and I love to see when you create all of this"

"You have always seen me, even when I graffitied the alleys of Zaun, one would think you would be bored by now" you say, gently taking each piece of mirror sticking it on the wall creating a scene and you feel Renata's mechanical hand on your hip which makes you sigh, you try hard not to think about what happened this morning at home, when she held you with that same mechanical arm so sleek and stylish yet strong pinning you against the bed and Renata devouring you

"I never tire of your creative process."

Renata rests her chin on your head, seeing every little piece of glass on the wall simulating like a fissure where you see a beautiful city, a Zaun you dreamed of and just kisses your hundred "one day I will make that Zaun come true."

I love you and I would give you hell, heaven, earth, the firmament just to make you smile, that's what he wants to say but he's silent when he sees your smile, your eyes full of love.

Renata can't imagine anyone else by her side but you.

➤ Cassandra Kiramman. 

If someone had told you in the past that you would end up married to the girl you came to hate (I didn't really, it was a gay panic actually) who brought you gray hairs with that joy and optimism, with her sweet, pleasant and kind smiles, with her concern, naked emotions, how you weren't afraid of feelings and showing them, that girl you hate in the past is currently your wife.

She is married to the love of your life and has a daughter with you.

He sighs softly, savoring the flower tea that he likes to drink and that you brought from your travels outside Piltover, a beautiful small flower enclosed in a bud, opaque and dry until it comes in contact with hot water blooming leaving the most beautiful flowers, and creating a sweet, delicious tea with a unique flavor. A box of tea that you always brought for her, without fail along with flowers, and books from other regions that she spends her nights reading. To tell the truth, the girl she hated in the past now made her happy, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much when you came on a trip and wrapped her in a tight hug, but every time she saw that scene it made her heart flip, it was as if you carved your name on her heart and soul.

"It's not fair mommy!" you hear a little childish voice squeal with indignation, it's in the middle of the huge garden with some dartboards a considerable distance away and the little girl stomps her little foot on the ground showing her anger "You let me win and I'll tell mommy!".

Cassandra feels her heart melt, as Caitlyn is held in her wife's arms and hears her laugh, it's impossible for Caitlyn to get so angry at her wife when you always get the giggles out of her to no end.

"I didn't let you win Caitlyn, you really won there" you point out in a soft voice once you leave her leaning on your hip looking at the targets and the rifle on the ground, an exact copy of yours because that's what your daughter wanted "You'll really be a good shot you know that?"

"Do you think so mom?" questions Caitlyn, small and bright-eyed to the max, expression cheerful and hopeful

"Of course I do honey, and when you grow up I'll make a rifle just for you" you promise with a smile, watching your daughter prance in your arms and you kiss her cheeks lovingly "A rifle just for you, just like you wanted."

Cassandra just smiles, watching the cute scene and how Caitlyn sees you with bright eyes, huge and hopeful, she loved her family even that woman who made her angry, who made her laugh until she cried and break her cold facade, make her heart beat wildly, but she is the woman she loves to see sleeping next to her, she simply loves her and she wouldn't change any of that.

His life is happy.

PAST:

Meeting Grayson wasn’t an accident, it was a kismet intervention.  

Fluffy tangerine clouds took over the sky. That only happened when it rained, but the air lacked petrichor. The smokey atmosphere made it hard to see past a few feet. Pushing past bodies, the streets were bursting with activity; pedestrians, firetrucks and police cars. 

Yellow tape segregated everyone from the officers, your gaze followed where everyone was watching. Mama Macaroni’s had burned down, the familiar brightly lit emblem was burned to a crisp. Luckily your favorite sushi spot next door was unharmed. 

An older woman in a robe was behind you. 

“Did they say what happened?” you asked your neighbor. 

She shook her head. “Nobody knows yet. It happened around dinner time. No one was home, thank the heavens.” 

You tossed the woman an uncommitted smile, and went back on your way. As you looked up, you saw her. 

Detective Grayson was interviewing eye-witnesses that had seen the fire. Her scarf, the authority she possessed. Her allure added to her appeal. 

The crowd of nosey neighbors gave you an excuse to hang back and watch her in her element. Her attention to detail as she listened to the witnesses, the privilege of holding her attention. They didn’t deserve it. 

Eventually the officers told everyone to disperse, not you. Cigarettes made excellent decoys, nobody asked you why you were outside, or bothered you because most people despise the smell of nicotine. You didn’t need to light it. The cancer stick was enough of a caution for all. 

Normal people go home and facebook stalk a hot cop they see, but everyone was fake online. Face to face interactions are the best for getting to know people. In your case, the 20 foot distance while you followed Grayson home was close enough.

... 

PRESENT:

She couldn’t hold your gaze because rage had been eating away at her since yesterday. Her mind found clues she’d ignored during her stint, the polaroid in your entryway taken on the day in question. Catra hiding in the cabinet only at your command. She couldn’t share any of this with her unit. If they found out about your relationship, it’d compromise the case. She played it safe and avoided any mention of your relationship. The voice of reason in her head questioned why she was protecting you still, her main goal was to find the perpetrator. How could she protect you from yourself? 

The door clicked, you inched closer to the table and sat on it. 

She came in slowly, she had on the same shirt from last night. Darkness surrounded her once bright eyes. 

“[name]” she sat down, a manilla folder in her hand. Tension hung in the air, she avoided your gaze. 

“Grayson,” you state. 

“There is CCTV footage of you, on days of two separate B&E’s minutes after the crime fleeing the scene, ” Grayson places two freeze frames of a figure in black, a face somewhat resembling yours.

You picked at your nails. “I live in the area, is it illegal to walk through my own neighborhood?” 

She placed another bit of evidence before you, “We also have eye witness testimony placing you at the scenes,” 

“‘Bad cop’ looks sexy on you, Grayson.” you purred

She remained stone faced. But her heart raced, she could feel her pulse thrumming against her forearms. Scarlett creeped up her neck. 

You sighed deeply, dropping your mask. “Either arrest me or let me go and stop wasting everyone’s time,” you seethe. 

Grayson got up and left the room. Marcus along with the Captain were in the examination room. 

“If we keep her longer, she’ll confess, Cap,” Marcus said. 

The captain raised her hand up. “That’s enough, we don’t have evidence for a conviction and our time is up, release her,” 

Grayson felt a weight off her shoulders. 

“Cap, are you serious? We can’t let her walk,”

She didn’t acknowledge the rest of his nonsense and left the space. 

This battle was won but Grayson knew this arrest was the least of her problems. 

…

PAST:

Grayson lived in a brownstone on a mundane street. She lived on the second floor, curtains were always drawn even if she was home. At night, you’d watch her silhouette dance around her place. You quickly learned how rare it was for Grayson to be home, only going home to sleep or change. Her work life balance was rancid, she needed more time to herself. The detective work consumed her being. 

It was fairly simple getting a hold of a police scanner, after work you’d listen to the day’s scans in the background as you cooked dinner. Local PD’s used encrypted channels so you only had access to EMS/Fire dispatches, that only kept you entertained for so long. She wasn’t at any of the incident sites you went to. After some begging Vi was able to connect you to a computer geek, Ekko. He was able to get you access to the police channels. Which gave you access to stabbings, grand theft auto, and shootings; with each violent crime you’d get giddy, praying it’d be the one that brought her to you.

Picking up more opening shifts at work, leaving your nights open to explore. 

Your partner in crime, Vi didn’t appreciate your extracurricular activities, she grew frustrated with your growing obsession. Keeping her in the dark was for the best, she wouldn’t understand your relationship with the detective. 

Your restaurant job got in the way of your sleuthing, you switched to dog walking. The doggo’s approved of Grayson, they enjoyed walking by her place just as much as you did.

After getting familiar with her routine you were able to pay her a little visit. 

As you followed Vi up the fire escape, keeping an eye out for snoopy neighbors. 

Vi grunted as she lifted the rusted window, slipping inside and holding a hand for you. 

You climbed through the window and examined the space. Dreaming about it for the past couple of months

The inside of Grayson’s apartment was the only thing you’d dreamt of and standing in her living room was anti-climatic. The space was filled with boxes like she’d just moved in. 

“You sure an old lady lives here?” Vi questioned. 

“Yeah, something like that. Why?” 

Vi points to an officer photo of Grayson in uniform, most likely after graduating. She’s posing with her hat and standing all stoic. You snapped a photo on your polaroid. 

“Oh. Weird. That’s what the intel said, maybe we got the unit wrong?” you shrugged. Trying to get Vi off your scent. 

“Whats the pic for?” she probed. 

“Nothing, I just thought it was a cute picture. You know I love uniforms.” 

Vi walked around the space looking into the boxes. Entering the kitchen you zeroed in on the trash. Getting gloves you studied her waste. A lot of Chinese take out containers, milk cartons and cracked egg shells. 

How did she like her eggs in the morning, You wondered. 

“Gross, what the hell?” 

You rolled your eyes at Vi, “What? You can tell a lot from a person's trash.” 

She peered over your shoulder as she hovered over you. 

“Well this person can't be old, too much takeout. We’re in the wrong place.” she muttered.

“C’mon it wouldn’t hurt to look around.”

Vi huffed and went down the hall.

You continued searching in the kitchen, a pink bakery box snatched your attention. Such a stereotype, you loved it. 

The box had glazed donuts, 3 and a quarter. Your mouth ached to have the last bit of that donut. The closest thing to a kiss. But Vi would murder you if you messed with anything. Closing the box you search for Vi. She’s in the bedroom, squatted in front of a safe in the closet. 

Unmade bed with basic white sheets, and a few loose hairs. The urge to lay down and sniff the sheets but Vi would sense something is up, so you resisted. Instead opting for the bathroom, searching the trash in there you found pieces of loose floss. Without thinking you grabbed a few strands and shoved them in your bag. Continuing deeper into the bathroom, you grabbed her shampoo bottle and smelled it, she smelled like almonds and cocoa butter. After snapping photos of her shampoo and conditioner, you return to the bedroom.

“Did’y get it yet?” you asked. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Gaze studying the bedroom, taking in the staleness of her bedroom. Besides that official photo in the living room, no pictures or personal touches to indicate this was her apartment. 

“Take a guess,” she mutters.

“Let's go, they’re a cop.” 

Vi huffs deeper. “Fine, waste of fucking time.” She closes the closet as it was. 

The both of you head back to the window. You exit, waiting for Vi. The sound of keys at the front door alerts Vi to move faster. She tries to close the window but the rusty old thing doesn’t slide down all the way. 

Without caring to see who it was, you both head down in the opposite direction. The detective should still be at work, she never came home during lunch time…

So you assumed. 

Unbeknownst to you and Vi Grayson saw the cracked window in her living room. She approached it with caution, taking her gun out, she inspected all the rooms for signs of anyone. After she cleared her bedroom and the bathroom, she approached the window, she looked out only catching a running body with a flash of pink. 

…

PRESENT:

Grayson found you standing on the sidewalk distracted on your phone. The outside of the precinct was quiet, some pedestrians. She looked around to ensure no one from her team saw her. She approached you,  “Follow me.” then continued walking, her fingers inched to touch the small of your back and guide you, the habit had set. 

With apprehension you looked past Grayson assuming she was with others. 

You watched her walk alone, and get in her sedan with the tinted windows. She eyes you down once she realizes you didn’t follow her. The scrutinizing gaze she gives you makes you relent. Slowly you enter the passenger seat. Refusing to meet her eye. 

“You know I have tinted windows.” she states.

With a dismissive glance you roll your eyes, “I have nothing to say to you!” You huff. “I can’t believe you turned me in, like the past few months were nothing. You were more than eager to toss me to the wolves.” 

“Hey! I’m the one who should be upset. I’m an officer of the law before your girl-” she stops herself. 

“Yeah before my girlfriend, don’t worry Gray you’ll never have to worry about that anymore.” Your fingers reach for the handle on the door. “Have a good life, officer.”

“Wait, [name]. I want to talk, please. You owe me some sort of explanation.” 

“I don’t owe you shit.” 

“If you leave, I have more than enough evidence to give my captain, or stay and we can talk.” 

That got your attention. “Fine. But only if you take me home. I need a shower."

“We can’t. There are police on every corner of your block. You can shower at my place.” she offers. 

“Fine, whatever, I don’t have any other choice.” You slouched into your seat.

The ride to Grayson’s apartment was tough, the car filled thick with tension. Neither of you wanted to break the bubble of silence. 

When you arrived you walked up the steps to her unit, Grayson watched as you stepped inside and proceeded to go up the steps toward her apartment. Confirming the suspicions she’d had. This wasn’t your first time. 

The both of you strode into her unit. 

“Ignore the mess, I just moved in. “ 

She watched you observe the space, taking it in slowly, unaware of the fact that you’d already shown your hand. 

“News to me. But should I be surprised? You’re like a steel door,” you exclaim. “Ain’t nothing getting past those walls.”

Grayson didn’t respond to your jab, she led you to her bathroom, her fingers finally got to touch you since you’d been out of the pokey. You hadn’t even noticed her soft fingers on your back, the familiar feeling.

“The towels are in the closet. I’ll be right out here.” 

Walking past her you look up. “Thanks Gray,” A tiny smile graces your lips. “You’re free to join,”

Grayson loses her train of thought, your gaze stirs something inside. Her rational mind was in a battle, she knew what you’d done but her feelings toward you remain unmoved. It disgusted her, how easily you’d fooled her. A fly caught in a spider’s web, yet she was comfortable in her entrapment. 

She closed the door behind her, feeling stuck on how to move forward. Her mind kicked in as soon as she heard the water running. Grayson riffled through your bag, you’d left it on the counter. She moved past the receipts and old gum pieces at the bottom, searching through all the pockets until she found your phone. 

Grayson put in your code, and it unlocked. She secretly hoped the phone would reject her, but it didn't. Grayson went through your messages with Vi, She’d begun to suspect she wasn’t your ex, which meant everything you’d told her about Vi was a lie. Much to her dismay all the messages were deleted and you didn’t message anyone else. The shower stopped. She put the phone back in the side pocket and returned your bag to the counter. 

Grayson met you at the door, you stepped out and walked to her bedroom. She stood by her door, while you stalked the closet side of her room. 

Keeping the towel hugging your body you looked at Grayson. “Go ahead, I know you have questions. Talk.” 

Grayson had to fix her face to overcome the annoyance pooling from her. She wiped the bottom half of her face and took a quick breath. The inner torment of Grayson’s conscience on whether you were still on the same team or not. 

…

PAST:

After the stint in Grayson’s apartment it felt like she was avoiding you. The crime reports never led you to her anymore. She’d stopped coming to any crime scenes, domestic violence or familial disputes, nothing. A shooting near a grocery store? No detective in sight. 

Vi had begun to take notice of your agitation. 

The sun was setting, a soft glow covered your apartment. The two of you were on the floor of your apartment counting the money you’d gotten at your latest mark. Vi had intel of a widow that was out of town, a big brownstone that’d be empty with millions of dollars worth of art and jewelry. Disarming the alarm system was easy enough, with the rise of at home security anyone with a wifi connection can reroute the system and turn it off for a few minutes. The house sitter only came during the day at the beginning of the week. The house lights were kept on the rest of the time to give the illusion of someone at home. The waste of energy leaving all those lights on sickened you. If anything the widow deserved to get robbed for her hatred of the planet. Unfortunately, the intel was only half correct, the Rembrandt paintings were fake, and the broad kept her good jewelry locked away. The safe was easy enough for Vi to crack, a few gold bars, $75,000 in cash and some diamond necklaces that could pay your rent for the rest of this year and then some. 

Vi huffed at the collection of goods.

“How tacky, we would’ve been set if either of those paintings were real. But I knew it was too good to be true. No one leaves a Rembrandt in their house without lasers and shit.” you muttered.

“We still have this,” Vi held up a key found in the safe. 

You rolled your eyes. “You step a foot in that bank and you’ll be locked up faster-”

Vi shook her head. “Still not caught… We have time to check out the safety deposit box.”

“Why stop there, let's just do the bank, imagine the luck.” 

Vi shoved you for being sarcastic.

Before she could answer, a screeching drew your attention to the walkie you kept for police dispatch. 

“Panic alarm triggered at Chase Bank. Possible robbery.”

“Central, 2-Adam-21 responding, en route Code 3.”

“Copy, 2-Adam-21. Additional units staging at 43rd and Madison. Suspect description unknown.”

Vi’s gaze met yours. “What’s the point of that shit?” 

“I told you! I’m making a chart of how fast dispatch responds to each area. They respond with more units if it’s below 10th St.” 

“Yeah, no shit. Pigs get horny to arrest anyone from the Under city.” she murmurs. 

You shove her. “It’ll be good to know later if we decide to do anything that big.” 

Vi stood up. “Stop with that nonsense. Only amateurs rob banks.” 

“But-”

“No. It’s pointless, with the security and all the vaults, it’s not worth the risk. If you wanna be a dumbass, I won’t stop you.” 

Vi walks to your bathroom, stepping on your toilet she removes one of the ceiling panels, and moves the duffle of stolen goods in there. She returns the panel to its place. 

“Don’t touch that. We need to clean the money before we can-” 

You interrupt her. “I know. I know.” 

She exits the bathroom, you follow her to the front door. 

“I got a shift at the package store, so I gotta go. Cupcake is still in motion.” she winks.

“Can’t believe you’re still on that. Give it up.”

“You say that now, you’ll be eating your words when I’m eating he-” 

Grabbing the door open, you shove her out. “Okay okay okay, goodbye Vi.” 

…

PRESENT: 

Grayson crosses her arms. “I only want the truth, if you can’t afford that, I won’t waste my breath.” 

Something on the ground interested you more than her at that moment. “Okay, ask the right questions.” you state blankly. 

Your gaze meets hers. “How long have you been doing this? We’ve got 4 B&E’s total, are there any others?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. It was something dumb I started. Not gonna do them again, straight and narrow from here on out.” 

Grayson didn’t believe you but she went forward. “You didn’t take anything from the apartments, why?” 

You picked at the hem of the towel, pulling the thread. “Why not? I wanted to know what they had and they didn’t have shit.” 

Grayson began pacing, she was growing frustrated with your petulance. Everything she asked was followed up with a lie. She needed to approach this from a different angle. Her mind came up blank with solutions, any method of interrogation she had didn’t work with you. The time spent together clouded Grayson’s judgement, you’d become acquainted with all of her tells. The way she approached cases, she was at a standstill. 

A cardinal perched on the window ledge, the light streaming in made it appear pink. An idea popped into her head. 

Grayson hated lying to you, but she needed answers and you weren’t making it easy. She walked up to the window and cracked it open a bit. The bird watched her movements. 

“If you won’t answer then I’ll just get your pink friend down to the station, you think she’d be open to answering some questions?” she asked in a cool tone. 

Grayson kept her back to you. 

“Vi has nothing to do with this. I broke into all those places myself, no one else was with me. Question me all you want but don’t bring her into this.” 

The stress in your voice told Grayson everything.

She turned and leaned against the windowsill. “Let’s try this again, and be a bit more honest. This is all off the record. For my own peace of mind.” 

Your face gives nothing away, she sees you ponder over her proposition. 

“Fine.” You state deflated. “No, those aren’t my only B&E’s but they’re the only ones I didn’t…borrow stuff from,”

She holds your gaze. If she tightened her jaw anymore it’d break. 

Avoiding her gaze you keep your eyes fixed to the ground. “I didn’t take anything because that wasn’t the goal.” 

Grayson squints her eyes at you. Crossing her arms. “What was your goal?”

She noticed the purple hue creeping up your ears. 

“I was umm-trying to impress a crush,” you admit a bashfulness radiating off you. 

“For Vi? She’s your crush?”

You scrunch your nose at her. “Ew. No, we grew up together. I don’t see her like that.” 

“Who then?” 

Shaking your head. “No. It didn’t work so there isn’t any point in rehashing.” Turning away from her. 

Grayson walks in front of your eyeline. “Let me be the judge.”

“I thought you were a cop.” you joke. 

Grayson keeps her arms crossed, not amused at all.

Without responding you get up and drop your towel, Grayson has to remind herself to look away. The temptation did nothing to cloud the anger that was festering in her. She watched you grab a henley from her drawer and put it on, along with some shorts.

The distraction gave you time to think of something on the fly. Exposing yourself to Grayson was easier than being honest. What would she think if she knew you did it for her attention? The thought terrified you, she’d be angrier than she was about the break in’s. The entire relationship had been on lies, another wouldn’t hurt?

Slowly you rubbed your hands together, sitting on the edge of the bed. You took a deep breath looking away from Grayson, “It’s too embarrassing, I don’t want it to change how you see me.” 

She sits beside you. “The last of our relationship has already been destroyed.” 

Her blank statement stabbed you deeply. 

“There’s this dealer in the undercity.” 

“Downtown?” Grayson probes. 

You nod. “Yeah, he controls the streets, that’s how Vi and I got involved in that stuff. We were a couple of street kids, our families tossed us aside, well mine did. Hers died.” 

Grayson didn’t nod, she eyed you down. 

You continued. “I borrowed some money, I was between jobs, the interest piled up that it doubled the original amount. I can’t afford to pay him back, so I do little jobs in exchange.” 

Grayson stood up, she went back to pacing, then stopped. “How is that embarrassing?” 

Collapsing on your back, you shut your eyes. “Because, I’m dumb and got fucked by a loan shark,” 

Grayson didn’t say anything. 

“Not literally Grayson, Jesus!” 

She was grateful you can’t see the various emotions she’d gone through in the past couple of seconds. You didn’t deserve to take pride in her jealousy. 

“If you’re being blackmailed, you should’ve gone to the authorities.” she states. 

Laying on your elbows you eye her. “Right, since you’re known for having such a great reputation at being helpful.”

Before you could blink Grayson was hovering over you, steel eyes gauge your response. Her arms trapped your head below her.

“Convenient that you were able to pay off the debt, when we started seeing each other.” 

Her cologne is the first thing that catches your attention. Spending the last few hours with her and you were only now inhaling her oak scent. 

Yesterday she was yours, today you couldn’t recognize her. She smelled like your woman, had her comforting aura but there was a new roughness to her, you couldn’t help being drawn. 

Without cause, you found yourself drawing her hips closer to you, expecting her to push you away, she didn’t. Her gaze fixed to your lips. The gap closed as you crashed your lips into hers. Missing the taste of her even if it’d been less than a day. She returned the kiss with the same fervor, you thought the electricity in the air had been something you made up in your head. Your fingers fumbled with Grayson’s belt, you couldn’t move fast enough. 

A knocking interrupts you. Both your heads turn in the direction of the front door. 

“Grayson, you home?” Marcus called through the door. 

…

PAST:

The night was steamy, humidity fogged up your glasses as you left your apartment. The pedestrians around you were chattering, you strolled with your burrito in hand. Getting ready for your dinner and show. 

A bus stop and bench were parked on the opposite side of the Detective’s apartment. More specifically into her living room window. 

Grabbing your burrito you listened to the police dispatch as you ate and memorized her silhouette. The curtains covered any sign of her so it would be an occasional shadow. 

The street lamp protected you from the darkness of the night. 

On a Friday night, most people were getting ready to go clubbing with their friends. A group of women walked across the street, giggling and chatting amongst themselves. 

A loneliness tug at you seeing others with friends. A dispatch took you out of your pity party. 

Central to all units, be advised, report of a home invasion in progress, 1123 Bergen St. Caller hiding in closet, suspects armed.

4-David-7 en route, lights and sirens. Advise if backup is available.

Central, 2-Lincoln-3 arriving on Bergen. Taking the north side—covering the front entrance and street view.

5-Adam-9 on scene. Taking the east alley—covering rear access and side windows.

David-7 posted on the west side. Triangle formed. Holding perimeter until K9 and backup arrive.

Copy that. Triangle perimeter established. K9 en route.

For once the dispatch was interesting, usually the crimes were domestic or boring neighborhood squabbles. This was the action you craved. You continued listening to the encounter. As you were about to take another bite into your burrito, she came rushing from her brownstone. 

The detective was en route to the robbery. The idea was elementary; you were annoyed for not thinking of it sooner. Detectives came to the scene of robberies, even if they were low stakes you didn’t mind getting her attention. 

Perimeter secure. No movement in front. The rear door appears forced.

Breaching rear.

On the edge of your seat you waited for a response. Finishing off the last of your burrito you throw the wrapper in the trash behind you. Getting up, you look both ways before crossing the street. 

Seeing as you were successful last time, you enter the Detective’s apartment through the window. On your 3rd attempt the window didn’t budge, you chalked it up to your lack of strength. 

Suspect fleeing toward kitchen. 4-David-21 intercepting.

You try to enter the building from the front entrance this time. Pretending to be on the phone, you stalk the entrance of the building until someone exits, you wait just before the door closes before putting your shoe through the door. 

Making your way up the stairs, you get to her apartment. Checking the handle, people forget small things like locking the door when they rush. Unfortunately the detective is not one of those people. Your hands reach into your purse, grabbing your lockpicking kit. 3 minutes later you hear a click and you’re inside her apartment, again. The door was heavy as you made your way in, looking down upon entry you noticed a 24 pack of water bottles on the ground. Rolling your eyes, you make your way to the living room. Why didn’t she just have a water bottle and save the excess plastic waste?

One suspect in custody. The second suspect fled upstairs. Officers in pursuit.

Second suspect attempting to exit through second-story window. Officers have visuals.

She left all the lights on, you look at the chinese take away on the fold out tray in front of the TV. Caring for the environment was nowhere near the detective's list of priorities. Searching for a remote you turn it on to see what she was watching before she left. 

The news channel appears. Something about a break in. Turning it off you head to your main mission. 

As you enter her bedroom, you grab her pillow and smell her scent, faint almond and musk. Walking past the clothes on the floor, you spot her hamper. Digging through the used clothing you grab a sock and tuck it into your purse. Spotting a pair of boxers on the ground, you decide against taking it. You’re not some creep that steals women’s underwear. You had boundaries. 

Suspect detained on roof. Officers climbing ladder.

Second suspect in custody. Both suspects secured. No injuries reported.

Amusement as you continued listening to the dispatch. Only a moron would rob homes, all risk very little reward. 

After the field trip, you make your way to the window and notice a lock. It suddenly clicks, she locked her window. A validation radiates you in knowing it wasn’t your lack of muscles, the detective had grown suspicious. Why would she feel the need to lock her window? When you and Vi left everything was in it’s place nothing to alert her. Then you remember the window slamming. You curse to yourself, you’d been made.

Scene is secure. Suspects being transported to precinct. Investigation ongoing.

The idea from earlier was gonna be your best bet, if you wanted to meet your woman, you’d need to take matters into your own hands.

You stood up from your chair and held the box, bringing it to her and placing it by his side on the table, waiting for her to open it felt like torture, and seeing her eyes squinting, eyebrows knit together once she realized what was that all about making your cheeks burn in embarrassment, almost snatching the box from her hands, however, her eyebrows relaxed and a wicked hmm left her throat that made you look at her face searching what was wrong. The words that left her mouth made your thighs clench and the heat on your cheeks floated through your whole body. Anticipating her offer to use it on you, she surprised the moment with “You will be using that on me first? I am rather pleased to perform it.”

After some days of discussing the manners, you were standing naked in front of her, breath already short in anticipation and wetness collecting between your legs.

“Come here, love.” Grayson's raspy voice cut the air that separated your body as you began to walk to her and stop. Her green eyes admired and blazed through the sight of your bare body, regardless of the many times she saw you, she looked at a celestial divinity, like you would take the last breath from her lungs, and she would die happy. And tonight she was yours.

You were already undressing her, the only piece of clothing, a white button shirt slowly coming undone by your trembling fingers as you slid the fabric over her defined shoulders. “Excellent, my dear.” 

You observe her chest rising up and down as you run your hands onto the surface, stopping to caress her full breasts that were held by her white bralette, Grayson held her gaze on you, consuming the hazy lust over your eyes and parted lips as you stripped her.

Your hand followed the curve of her breasts, cupping the mounds while softly running your thumb over her nipples and sensing them hardening under your touch. Grayson let out a ragged sigh as you pinched them, that region always being your lucky card to tease her from the sensibility she had on them.

“Baby... continue,” she ordered, not wanting to lose the moment but urging you to touch her more. Your hands traveled down to her toned stomach, you still could feel the stiff mounds under your fingers as the age and the changes took place over it and now she softened on your hands.

“You feel so good mommy, I love touching you. Making you feel adored and loved, making you feel mine,” you whispered praises that Grayson lost the emerald green in her eyes to a dark mask of luxuria. 

“You're gorgeous, y’know.”

You reached back to unclasp her bralette, the praise fell into her like honey, coating the tough demeanor she has, but as soon as you had one of her nipples into your mouth she let a moan past her painted red lips, you sucked, licked and twirled your tongue around one while your hands scoop and massage both. Feeling Grayson leaning down on the bed you let it go with a wet pop giving them a last squeeze before moving to her pants. The belt was not hard to unbuckle but your eagerness and excitement made your hands unsteady, a sweet chuckle left Grayson's lips and made you do the same, smiling silly with the situation but knowing none of this was trouble, knowing she gave a loving look at you and you feel how much you mean to her.

She moves down to help with it, moving your hands to grab the metal and quickly taking off her pants and underwear. Once she was nude you stopped for a moment to admire her, all of her.

The veins that traveled up from her strong hands to her arms, those same hands that caress your face before kissing as well held your face first into the bed. Her wide hips and full breasts, thick and muscular thighs that you felt like dying when she locked them against your head but you would not give up until you savored all of her cum, the same thighs that also rested your head after a long hard day and comforted your turbulent head. Your eyes darted up to find her pussy, glistening and wet, a small bush on top of it and so divine that you. 

“You are staring.” 

Grayson pulled you back at the moment, “I know… you are simply divine Mommy.”

Grayson could've won this game if you weren't palpitating in need. She pulled you on top of her, adjusting her head on the pillows and spreading her legs for you, eyes darkening from hearing your words and you claimed her hunger for praise. You settled in between her legs, seeing her dripping cunt open for you to accommodate the dildo forgotten in between your legs, trying to keep your breath calm but ruined once you felt Grayson’s left hand move to grab the dildo, sending a ghost feeling in that your brain read like you had it and every stroke she was giving reacted in you.

You nearly broke down when she pushed the tip in her wet hole, your hips stopped afraid to just push everything at once and hurt her but the pleasure was overwhelming, it was strange for sure but the first move had your head spinning and eyes wet with peeking tears.

“F-fuck, that’s it, my girl, take your time.” she moaned. “You are making mommy feel so good.” her voice dropped impossibly deep, charging you up to press a little further the strap on her. It wasn’t even fully in and you felt like cumming already, the knot and dizziness on your brain, the heat coming along your neck and cheeks flushed your senses and made you rock your hips fervently dragging in and out of Grayson’s cunt.

Her moans and curses incited and encouraged you more, breathless praises, and how perfect and needy you are for mommy’s cunt had you controlling yourself to not cum and collapse on top of her.

“Can I go all the way? Please, mommy, can I? Please.”

You could feel the heat building between, your legs were trembling and tensing to hold back your climax and wait for her orders. Grayson raised her hand, coming to rest on your cheek and your hips stuttered by her touch, skin so sensitive that you feared a brush of cold air could make you shatter down and cum inside of her without permission. “You are such a precious baby, so obedient… my dirty little girl enjoying the feeling of mommy’s pussy around her.”

You involuntarily wailed at her words and had to make an effort to not connect your hips to hers, your brain was foggy, eyes heavy in desire. You couldn’t hold back anymore, you were still but the clench of Grayson’s cunt around the toy was coming straight to you like the feeling was not strange to you but stirred your whole body, adding with her heavy raspy voice moaning your name and pulling you down by the leash to tell how good your cock fucks her cunt. Overwhelmed by the new sensation and from this side of Grayson you would die to have again you snapped and gave in to pleasure.

“Fuck please please Mommy, let me cum. Please I can't hold back, let me cum on you, let me breed you, Mommy please please.”

Her emerald eyes darkened as her pupils dilated by your desperate babbling,  a shiver ran down your spine as her fingers reached for the leather strap of the collar pressing against your neck, pulling your face close to give a burning kiss to your lips, stroking the flames inside as her tongue delved into your mouth. The faint hint of tobacco lingered on her tongue, that newly made a competition against your own.

“That’s it, darling.” Grayson panted against your lips, her eyes blazing with intensity and locking yours by her grip on the collar. “That’s what you need? Cum inside mommy’s pussy and give yourself to me?” her breath brushed against your face, voice dropping a lower tone you thought would be impossible. “Yes yes please, I can't hold back anymore… I’ve been good to Mommy please mommy,” you whined, incoherently pleading but conscious about the flames twirling on your core, her warm and wet cunt surrounding the toy you wore, her and your juices mixing and smearing on your thighs and dripping onto the sheets.

“As you wish, my darling,” Grayson murmured, her voice low and intimate, and your hips immediately returned to pound her at a strong pace, skin-to-skin sounds filling the room, her rough moans pounding in your head helping to build up your climax again.

Which wouldn’t be hard work to do.

You came hard, your eyes rolled back, little screams, whines, moans left between your lips, legs shaking and your pussy spamming as you ride your orgasm but didn't slow your hips, causing a bit of overstimulation on you but Grayson was quick to follow, feeling the toy working its end inside of her and from the way she threw her head back against the headboard and the warm liquid from her squirt on your thighs you almost came again.

Your body flopped on top of hers, breathing unpaired and slowly calming, she hugged your form and turned to the side so you both were cuddling face to face. A small groan left both lips as Grayson removed the strap from you both and placed it on the small lamp desk to care about it later, now it was just returning to the calm.

The beating of her heart was against your ear and that sound almost drifted you to a comfortable sleep but you quickly remembered to clean both of you.

“Let me get you a warm bath Gray, I'll be returning soon.” Grayson nodded from what you said but believing that she was near the same situation of tiredness you guessed she would've slept with you right there. You returned with a warm towel and pressed on her wet skin, a tired moan escaped her lips as you brushed over her pussy to clean the excess beforehand, a light kiss was pressed on her thigh as you moved to help her get up and move to the bathroom.

Some minutes passed and you both were fresh and clean. Grayson hugged your waist and comforted her head on your chest, your hand brushing her salt and pepper curls, not so-rare moments like this like she let you be the big spoon. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you started.

“For now, I think you did wonderfully, and I enjoyed every part of it. Although I think I only have the energy to answer this for now." She added you surprised yourself with her answer. It wasn’t often that you could leave her drained of energy, but you took that as something pleasant, that she delighted herself to the point of it.