#santhiquee

mdni | content: g!p Sevika, stalking, panty theft, boot riding, dry humping, oral sex, vaginal squirting and fingering, cunnilingus, rough vaginal sex, praise kink, pet names, coercion, obsessive/possessive behavior, subspace, creepy Sevika (kind of), dacryphilia, dom/sub undertones, age difference (major, twenty years), breeding kink, Pairing: Blue-collar worker! Sevika x barista!reader a/n: apologies I took so long :(, but I am here with this request fic, my favorite so far from Sevika, and I loved writing it !! this is 8.3K words so long sorry :( but have fun reading !!! feel free to send me more requests or fic ideas.

Sevika did not account for falling hopelessly in love with you. In fact, she didn’t account for meeting you in general. In the time she’d been called to Moonbuck Coffee, she had not officially met you. She only heard your names through the employees who would run amok trying to take care of the customers. 

 It’s not until an issue with the HVAC vent that has her hauling ass to the shop that she has the opportunity to see you. The summer heat is blaring in the back of her head, and she’s entering the shop, the smell of coffee bean and syrup circling her nose. Sevika looks around for a second, and then she sees you. 

And you hold up your hand, waiting for her to circle the counter. You’re about a foot shorter than she is, doe eyes staring up at her. She notices everything. The way you stare at her face, and how your throat bobs as she towers you. 

Her eyes flash down to your tag. ‘Y/N’. And she says your name inside her head, thinking about it, even when she’s eyeing the inside of the vent, and you’re so eagerly passing her the equipment from the bag. She can see sweat beads along your forehead, and as you pass the equipment, her calloused hands brush yours. 

Heat rushes through her body, curling along her spine. What feels like bliss fizzes across her mind, and when she’s done, her eyes follow you. When the latter is back behind the shop, you’re quick to give her a cup. An iced coffee–something she never indulges in because sweets have never been her thing. 

But you look at her, with a smile, so soft and innocent, pupils slightly dilated, as her hands extend to yours. “On me,” you say, and she can spot the shakiness in your voice, “consider it a thank you for saving us from the heat.” 

Sevika stares at the drink before she takes it, purposely wrapping her hands just a centimeter above yours, a safe distance for her pinky to glide down and touch your skin. “Will I always get this kind of treatment when something breaks?” She murmurs, something akin to sarcasm and amusement behind her voice. 

You nod. Fast and eager, and Sevika imagines that it’s just for her, “Yes.”

Somewhere along the lines of her working through nine more vents, and some complaints about her gruff demeanor, she thinks about you. She thinks about your eager little nod and the way you looked up at her while fixing the vents. You curl along her frontal lobe, the smell of coffee beans and sweat infecting her brain until all she can smell is you. 

Sevika goes back to the coffee shop around closing time. A need for something. Perhaps a look at you, perhaps the smell of coffee. It doesn’t matter, but she needs something. When she arrives, you’re wiping down the espresso machine, all alone. 

“A little dangerous to be by yourself at this time.” Sevika steps into the counter, eyes staring you down. 

The sky had dimmed, and one could barely see anything from the windows, save for the little light post that continuously flickers. But you laugh at her, “‘m not alone… well, right now, anyways. The other workers are in the back, and it’s a slow night. How was that iced coffee?”

“Sweet. Too sweet, but…I liked it. Vanilla cold brew.”

You nod, “Are you still working?”

“Just a little longer, and then I’m finished.” Truthfully, she was done. There wasn’t any work left to do. She simply wanted to see you. You ring her up, and she watches you, while you’re working, eyes brushing along your neck, the curve of your spine, and the twitch in your finger. 

When you finish, you slide the drink to her, and she racks her brain about the times she’s seen you. A month working around Moonbuck, and she never once laid eyes on you. “Did you barely start working here?”

Your smile slowly fades away. “It is that bad?”

Sevika laughs, letting her shoulder shake. “No. No. It’s good. I mean, because I’ve come to do maintenance and I’ve never seen you.”

“Oh,” your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape before you shake your head, “No, I just get these odd hours, since I have another job. But I live around the area, so I’m a little focused on this one. Perhaps you’ll see me a lot more.”

Interesting. Her head tilts, “You live by?”

“Yeah, so I don’t need to drive. Just a quick twenty-minute walk. Not too bad, some days, I drag myself home, because standing up all the time, really works your muscles.”

“Still a little dangerous, don’t you think? Walking alone at night.” Sevika says it, and along her brain, she imagines protecting you. Making sure that you get home safely, perhaps walking you all the way inside. 

You give her a shrug, “Sometimes, but I can’t always have someone watching over me, to make sure I get home,” and you laugh, as if the thought is too ridiculous. But Sevika thinks otherwise.

Sevika smiles along, but she never comments. When she finally sits down, halfway into the cold brew, you begin to talk. You drone on about random crap, but she never really interjects; she simply pays attention, glancing at Vi, then turning her attention to you. Sometimes she’d say, “I understand”, and then “What do you mean?” and you’d elaborate. 

By the end, it almost feels as though you’ve given her every ounce of information about your life. Sevika memorises it all. Where you work, how much you hate some of your coworkers in the other job, and how tired you get sometimes. 

Sevika thinks about all the ways she can make it better, how good she’d treat you if you let her. How she’d make sure you stay happy and belly full with whatever you need. The amount of flowers she’d give you, if you just gave her a chance.

When Sevika leaves, she glides into her car, lighting a cigarette from across the street. You can’t really blame her, though; she has a soft heart, despite her appearance, and the thought of someone harming you makes her sick. So she stays there, watching while you clean and finish everything, then takes your bag and closes Moonbuck. 

You never really notice the older woman walking behind you. It’s difficult to actually gauge a presence behind you when you’re listening to music. But it doesn’t matter because Sevika makes sure that you’re alright, and even walks you to your house, stopping just at a small bush to make sure that you make it inside your apartment.

Sevika comes back the next morning, exactly around nine thirty, with the same order. A vanilla cold brew. Then the next day, and the day after that. You’re the one who rings her up, always. It becomes a routine, and on the days that you don’t work in the morning, she’s there at night, with an order of vanilla cold brew and maybe a burrito if she’s feeling different. 

And every other night shift that you cover, she’s also there, parking her car away from the shop, giving her enough leverage to watch you through the windows. It’s her routine after work, making sure that her pretty barista makes it home. 

On Monday, you head to your second job around nine pm, rushing out of the apartment, trying to put your hair in a ponytail, or just away from your face. There’s a cold water bottle in your hand, and a bag in the other, juggling them as you enter your beat up honda. Sevika isn’t working; it’s her off day. 

When you finally pull away from the driveway, you park the car, a street away, black cap on her head, rushing to the apartment complex. She already guessed which one is yours, and she stops in front of the black door, looking side to side, before she squats down, picking the lock.

When the door pops open, she smells lilac along with another flowery scent, and her eyes rake over everything, until her gloved hands are pushing open your room door. Sevika noses your bed sheets, pulling the cover back to smell you, inhaling a floral and sweet scent, close to fabric softener. “Mhm, my pretty girl.” Sevika groans. 

She wishes she could stop there, but her hands find their way into your drawers, fingertips trailing your ribbed bras, lacy and plain designs all along. Then your panties, and she holds onto her strength as she pulls them to her face, cock twitching, thinking of you wearing them for her.

And she’s quick to snatch a pair from your dirty hamper, stuffing them inside her jeans. Two pairs, one dirty and one clean, so she can smell your cunt on her break. The next day, she’s quick to stuff one in her jeans. 

She doesn’t pull them out until it’s afternoon, and calls become slower. With five minutes on the clock before her lunch break, she stuffs herself in one of the bathroom stalls. She’s quick to hold her shirt in her mouth, muffling a hiss as she pulls her cock out. It slaps her lean stomach, tip gleaming with precum, while thick veins jut out from along the shaft. 

Her hands grip onto herself as she reaches for your panties, shoving them on her face. Her tongue darts along the material as she fucks into her first, reaching to the head and spreading precum. Pleasure darts across her back, curling in her spine, and she can almost envision you in front of her. 

Please, Sevika, fuck my mouth. Sevika’s cock twitches imaging you begging for a taste, pink tongue out, pupils dilated as her cock slaps your tongue. A soft groan escapes her lips, “fuckkk, that’s it.”

And in her head, fuzzy with lust and need, as your tongue darts along the head, doe-eyes watering as you try not to choke on her, trying your best to please her. And she shouldn’t think about this, because you’re so young, and she’s nearly twenty years older than you.

Goosebumps spread across her skin, and her balls tighten as you pull away from her cock, opening your mouth to show her, spit circling your mouth. ‘Please, Vika, I’ll be so good for you, need you to take care of me.’

The thought of you saying that to her, all needy and whiny, nearly splits her brain in two, and her hand tightens around the head of her cock, hips twitching as cum shoots from the red slit. “fucckk.” 

Her loud gasp rings around, echoing until she’s leaning laxly on the wall of the bathroom. Her muscles twitch, orgasm spiralling through her system until she’s finally stopped seeing double. Guilt rushes through her system, and she pushes your panties inside her jeans.

She tries not to think about the fact that she came from just imagining you on your knees. Or the fact that in the good thirteen years she’s worked at Zaun, she’s never done that. It feels disgusting, yet so fucking good. 

She still stops by the Moonbuck during the night. And you still smile at her, sweet and so so fucking pretty, unaware that your babydoll panties, the ones with flowers embroidered on them, are inside Sevika’s jeans, nearly stained with her cum. 

“How was work today?” You ask her, wiping down the sticky counter, while the espresso machine softly hums behind you. “We had this guy come in, super pissed his mobile order was wrong, and he nearly threw the drink at us.”

She clicks her tongue, “People like that don’t deserve proper customer service. Sorry, you had such a bad day.”

“It’s okay…it wasn’t your fault, and you’re right.” You respond, “But tell me about your day.”

And Sevika recounts it. The boring details, how dirty she gets, and everything, but never how she came apart in the bathroom thinking about sinking into your sweet pussy, and the taste of you in her mouth. And you laugh along, loud and unabashed, shoulders shaking, while pieces of your hair stick out, and your uniform is a bit fucked up from moving around. 

For a second, she wished she could kneel and convince you to open your legs and let her fuck her tongue into you. Suck out all the exhaustion from your bones until you’re crying, and boneless against her. That is, until you’re starting to mop the floor, signalling her that she needs to leave and go back to making sure you get home safely. 

The next day, the same thing with HVAC happens again. It’s barely one in the afternoon, just hours after you served Sevika her regular Vanilla cold brew. Before she gets there, you’re in the backroom, inhaling the earthy scent of ground beans while the soft hiss of the espresso machine grinds in your ear.

 You can hear the jittery murmur of the crowd outside, and before you can stack another coffee bag, the loud scheet, akin to metal-on-metal grinding, echoes through the ceiling vents. You pause for a second, beads of sweat curl in the back of your neck. 

An electrical hum rings around, and you go back to packing more coffee. You don’t exactly realise something is wrong until you’re outside the backroom after a good ten minutes, firmly tapping the coffee ground onto a metal portafiler, and sweat builds in every crevice of your body. 

Ekko is the one who turns to you, with a sweat on his forehead, “Is it just me, or is it hotter than usual?”

You shrug until Jinx comes out. “I think the AC is out…or something, but the air is fucking gone,” she whispers, wiping her pink cheek. “Someone fix it, before I quit.” 

Heat curls along your belly. Sevika. With a flick of a switch, you lock the portafiler into the espresso machine, “Ekko, get this for me, I’ll call Sevika.”

Jinx smiles, “First name basis, huh?”

“Fuck off.” You whisper to her, heading towards the back again, and the wave of hot air makes you shudder. The mix of coffee beans has begun to make you sick, and it’s been only a year.

In the back, the phone rings, and a husky voice picks up. “Zaun’s Heating Service, what do you need?”

“Hi…it’s Moonbuck. I think our A/C is out, or something with the air is ou–”

“Y/N?”

You pause, finally recognising the husky voice, “Sev?”

“I’ll be right there, doll.”

Doll. Doll. 

You smile, cheek to cheek, until you can feel the guidiness in your scalp, toes, and fingertips. When Sevika arrives, you’ve taken off your headcap, and your hair is up. You can feel the sweat building in your temples, and the smell of toasted hazelnut, along with burnt sugar curls in your nose. There aren’t that many customers, though, not compared to the morning; oddly enough, the afternoon is quiet. 

She arrives wearing dark jeans, brown steel boots, and a dark blue shirt with the name ‘Zaun’s Heating Service’ in white. A small orange towel hangs from one of her front pockets, and she carries a thick black and yellow bag in her hand. A thick feeling of deja vu crosses your spine. 

It almost feels like the first time you met. Perhaps it’s the heat, or the way your fingers have touched every inch of your body, thinking about the much older sevika, that comes into work, keeping you company. Like your own shining knight.

You can’t help but stare at her. The way her muscles bulge out of the dark blue shirt, and how her thick dark eyebrows are knitted together, as she quickly passes to the back of the counter. “This feels a little familiar, don’t you think?”

She smiles, and god,  she takes up so much space, that when she stops in front of you, the immediate feeling to take a step back curls in you. Despite the smell of the shop taking over your nose, the scent of Sevika makes your stomach bubble. Sweat, oil, and wood. It hits you all that once, just like when you first met her. “A little.”

She follows you into the back room, and the ladder is already under the vent. Sevika drops her bag on the floor, and you’re already flushing from the heart, but your ears heat up as she leans into your space. Her leg is propped on one of the steps, “Are you messing with the vent just to see me, Doll?”

You blink at her, too focused on the fact that she could pick you up. How easily she could fuck you against the backroom wall, hidden in the corner where Caitlyn and Vi always sneak to. You bashfully look away, “You’ve figured out my plan.” 

“You can always call me, doll. You know my number.” Sevika drawls out, climbing up to the vent. Your ears heat up, and you only hum, trying to keep your face from showing too much joy.

She takes a look at the vent and then down towards you. Dark grey eyes stare back, taking a second before blinking and looking back up. She pops the ceiling tile out, while you’re staring at her broad shoulders, seeing tiny specs of dust drift down into the air. 

When Sevika begins to work, she’ll look down, mention some kind of equipment, then give you a dumbed-down description of it. “Pass the five-sixteenth bit out of the side pocket.” And she’s about to give you a description of it until you’re shuffling through the bag, reaching for the hex-head screw. 

You pass it to her, reaching up, and she gives you a wide smile. Wide enough to show all teeth, “Atta girl. Learning fast, ain’t ya?”

Jolts of heat rush through your body, feeling her warm, rough hand against yours. You bite back a whimper, the praise rushing through your body like wildfire, and it sounds exactly like you’ve imagined her saying it to you. 

You keep reaching down, touching her rough fingers, until a heavy clank screeches, and the hum of the HVAC kicks in, blasting cool, stale air. Sevika climbs down, wiping sweat from her brow, while dark stains cover her collar and armpit area. You stand there like an idiot, until she takes a step towards you, hands steady on the latter. 

Your mouth is slightly parted, doe-eyes still staring up. “Need help?” You whisper. 

“You don’t think I can carry it?” She laughs, grabs the ladder, and walks towards the back. You can’t tell what compelled you to act irrationally. Maybe it’s the heat getting to your head, but you follow her, taking small steps, until she’s turning, and you’re pushing her to the little corner away from the camera. 

You tiptoe until you’re pressing your lips to hers, and her back is hitting the storage shelves, rattling the myriad of coffee bean bags. A small sigh escapes your lips, and you’re clutching onto her strong shoulders. You freeze, pulling back when Sevika doesn’t move. Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t look mad or disgusted. 

“I…I’m so s–”

And she’s quickly turning your back to the shelf, pushing her tongue inside your mouth, as you gasp. She licks, tongue darting to your teeth, until she’s tasting the residue of caramel on your premolars, sliding to your tongue. 

Her knee pushes between your legs, and your hips thrust down, whining into her mouth. You push back, trying to take a deep breath while she nuzzles her neck into yours, leaving sweat on the side, inhaling your scent. “Sev…” You breathe out. “More, please.”

She pulls back eyebrows knitted, “I can’t doll, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have.”

“Why?” 

Her eyes dart down to your wet lips, “You’re so young.”

A sixteen-year difference that makes your body heat up. “Who cares about that? Just a couple of years,” You retort, trying to push her closer to you, “Please, I wa–need, I need it.” And you’ve never been above begging, even crying as you blink back tears. 

Sevika’s calloused hands cup your face, thump, wiping the little tear on your cheek. “Tell you what. I’ll take you on a date, and we’ll see.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Really?”

And she nods, leaning down to brush her lips against hers. Every ounce of warmth from her mouth shoots down to your cunt, until you’re sure your panties are soaked. A small voice calls out from the front, and Sevika steps back. She gives you a calculated smile before turning and grabbing her bag.

You watch Sevika leave. Eyes trained on her while Jinx makes you, fill a cup with liquid syrup, lining the inside with caramel sauce. You can’t stop thinking about the kiss when she’s gone, and the company car is no longer there. You don’t see her again, but you wait for her. 

The night finally falls, and while you’re supposed to be closing with Ekko, he comes from the back, slinging his baf over his head. “So you’re just going to leave me here alone to close?” you ask, staring at Ekko. 

“Sorry, but I'm supposed to be picking up Jinx from night school. I promised her, I’m… I’m really sorry, man.” He says, and there’s a guilty expression on his face that almost makes you crack up. 

You roll your eyes at him, “I know. She told me this afternoon. I’m fucking with you.”

“You’re a G. Text us when you head home,” And you watch him leave into the night, while you mop the floor and clean the tables. 

It’s while you’re cleaning everything that a sudden feeling of being watched hits your head. The hair on your neck stands up, and you stare outside, seeing nothing but darkness and the outline of the buildings. Paranoia seeps through you, and you practically jump when Sevika opens the door, walking inside. 

Your throat clamps up, and you’re biting the inside of your cheek, fingers tightening around the mop. “Hi…you’re finished with work?” You quickly look at the machines, “Machines are off, ‘m sorry.”

She nods at your word, enjoying how nervous you get around her. “Ahh. No coffee tonight then.” She replies coolly, sitting down, spreading her legs, “How about water?”

You’re quick to drop the mop and grab a bottled water from the small fridge. The only thing you haven’t plugged off. You’re still thinking about the date and most of her words.

“Can…you walk me home today?” You bite the inside of your cheek, shuffling from foot to foot. You don’t want her to think that you can’t protect yourself, but tonight is different. “It’s just really dark…but I under–”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, pinching herself for sounding too excited. You don’t notice and beam at her, mouth hurting from how much you’re grinning at her. 

“Thank you…I just have to finish cleaning, and that’s all.”

You only take a few minutes, and soon, you’re walking out of the quiet shop, while Sevika is on your side. She isn’t wearing her uniform. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail, some strands falling to her face, just above her thick eyebrows. She’s in dark blue jeans, steel-toe brown boots, a white tank top stuck to her skin, and a thick jacket that makes her shoulders look even bigger. 

The silence isn’t awkward, but it makes your body heat up, a certain desperation curling behind your spine with a need to hear her voice. “I don’t mind our age difference…”

Your throat bobs, and she smiles, though barely illuminated by the light around you both. “I’m nearly at the age of back pains and muscle aches.”

Her words chime in your head, and you imagine Sevika coming from work, taking off her shirt, flexing her muscles while you roll your fingers into the tension of her muscles. Slowly working them out, while she groans, each deep sound shooting straight to your cunt. 

You laugh, loose and easy, focused on how close you’re walking next to her, “I say you have a couple more years to go before that happens…but if it does happen, I’m sure someone close can soothe them out.”

Sevika hums in acknowledgement, lidded eyes looking down at you, “Certainly.”

You overthink every conversation you’ve had with her, replying to her words, until you’re in front of your building. You stop, and she halts next to you. “This is me…would you like to come inside? I have to thank you for walking me home.”

“Think nothing of it, as long as you're safe.” She says with a shrug, and you catch the movement of her shoes, quickly latching your hand on her shoulder. She pauses, nearly freezing, feeling the coldness of your hand on her skin. 

“Please,” You coax softly, knitting your eyebrows, “I insist.”

And Sevika holds her tongue, simply nodding. “Okay.”

You don’t have much in your apartment. It’s dodgy and small, but your own. Your keys twist, and you push the door, prying it open. Your automatic spray covers the initial scent of mildew, and your rushing inside to hide your t-shirt on the couch, and leftover bowls on the coffee table. 

“Very small,” Sevika grumbles. 

“Yeah, but it’s this or the streets.” You respond with a small laugh, putting down your bag on the couch. “I cooked this apple pie…really good, if you’d like some. I’ll preheat it, and take a quick shower.”

She nods, and you work around the kitchen putting the glass pan sheet inside the oven. You grab a water bottle, pop it open and hand it to her, staring at her hand until it lands on the bottle, on top of yours. Your shower is quick, lathering every inch with a flowery scented soap, until you feel clean enough.

You’ve never really tried to be sexy for someone, besides a couple of people you tried to talk to. A shitty ex and bad sex revolted you from the dating scene until Sevika. You put on a pair of black boxers that fit tight and short enough it’s snug against your ass. A sheer black lacy bra, and a complementary sheer black long rope with beige lace detailing on the sleeves and hem. 

You push your nerves out, walking out to the living room, and catching Sevika in the kitchen, cutting a piece of the pie. “It’s really go–” she stops, eyes taking in your clothing, “Good. It’s really good.”

“Really? I’ve been trying new recipes as of lately, you have to try my garlic butter shrimp scampi. It’s very good,” And you tell her all that, until you’re in the kitchen, mere inches away from her, fingers itching to touch her jacket. 

Sevika hums, and you reach for the fridge, grabbing the can of whipped cream, and inching toward her, shaking the can, as she looks at you, eyes darting from your eyes to your tits. “Whip cream?”

She visibly gulps, and you’re nearly on your knees, if not for her taking the can from your hand. “My doll is very hospitable.”

My doll. My doll. My doll.’

Mydoll.

Your pussy clenches around nothing. “You’re mean.” You whisper to her as the hiss of the can curls in your ear. She smiles, cheeks bubbling, and she shakes her head at your words. 

“Am I? I should be telling you that,” And she stops, leaning her side on the counter, eyes staring you down. Her hand come to your robe, thumbing the lace, tracing it until it crosses to your skin, and you’re taking a deep breath, as her skin touches yours. “Dressed all pretty…”

You want her to take advantage of you–not that, that would be the correct word, given how willing you are. But you need her to touch you even through her guilt. Your hand wraps around her wrist, pulling them to your breast, until she’s got a hand grabbing it. And she squeezes, just soft enough, that a shudder crosses your spine. 

Your ragged breath matches hers, and your eyes flutter open and closed, catching a look at a tent on her jeans. “I want this...you wouldn’t be taking advantage of me.”

“As if you cared if I did.” She snarls, hand disappearing to the back of your neck, as she leans down. You take a breath, feeling her tongue push into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, as she pushes you into the counter. 

She licks along your teeth, moving to suck on your bottom lip, nipping at it, until you’re giving her a soft whine. Your hardened peaks rub against the soft material of your bra, and your hand curls along her jeans, touching her belt. 

Your hips push into hers, the material of her belt cold against your warm skin. Each glide of her tongue against yours, as you whine, soft sighs falling until she groans, and you nearly feel her chest vibrate.

 Sevika’s hand glides to your chin, cupping it as she pulls away, a line of spit connecting your lips. “Want to make that pretty mouth useful for me, doll?” She purrs, and you nod, letting her steer your body to the living room. 

Coldness launches across your skin when you sink to your knees, and she sits on the couch, thighs spreading while her cock pushes into her jeans. Sevika leans back, hands on her sides, a faint red blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t move, but your shaky hands dart to her belt, while the crackle of metal sounds so loud in your ear. 

You’re softly shaking, but you unhook her belt, working her buttons until they’re undone. There’s a wet patch on her briefs, and you’re so fucking needy, pushing your head to her tent, inhaling the strong scent of musk, earth and skin. 

Your tongue touches her through the briefs, scraping the cotton material and salivating on it, while Sevika sighs into the air. You pull back, pushing her boxers down, letting her cock spring out, and her stomach twitches as you run a hand across her jean-clad thigh. 

The tip of her cock gleams with wetness, pouring from the angry red slit, and a thick patch of curly hair surrounds her cock. You lick the head, delivering small kitten licks across while you have a hand on her shaft, and the other settles on her thigh.

Her salty taste curls across your taste buds, and you pull back, tongue switching to lap at her balls, sucking on one until a deep groan pours from her mouth, while specks of hair scrape against your skin. “That’s it, doll. Should’ve fucked your mouth…this afternoon.”

You lick up to the shaft, wrapping a hand around the head as you swirl your tongue on the cockhead. Spit darts from your mouth, and your eyes shoot up to her as your hand coats it all over her shaft. Sevika’s bottom lip is etched between her teeth, and her chest heaves up and down, while you slowly slip her inside your mouth, hand still working, pumping up and down. 

A loud moan curls from her throat, and her hips buck into your mouth, pressing so fucking deep, until she’s occupying every inch of your mouth. You can’t take much of her, she’s too fucking big, but you work her through, cupping her ball, and hollering your cheeks. 

Her hand grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing you off her cock, spit drilling down your chin. And she’s breathing heavily, eyes lidded and blown. “Open.”

Your tongue darts out, mouth open, and she’s smirking, ends of her lips curling as she slaps her cock on your tongue. Every rational thought has swooped out of your brain, lusting, curling along the ridges of your brain. “Maybe I should take you to work, have you be my little desk pet…keep your mouth full, and head empty, would you like that, baby?”

Your head bobs up and throws, eyes gone, tongue still out as spit accumulates and slides from the end of the muscle. You fear you won’t be able to live without the taste of Sevika’s cock on your tongue, and she knows this, because she’s grinning like she’s just won the fucking lottery. 

And she leans closer to you, hand still gripping a fist full of your hair, until she’s pulling just enough that it makes you moan, needy and high-pitched. Her cock twitches, “Please,” You gasp wetly, “fuc–fuck my...mouth.”

“You’ll need to earn it.” Her boots push in between your thigh, the end of it touching your cunt, just slightly. “Go on.”

Humiliation rattles through your bones, and you straddle the boot, pressing your chin on her kneecap, digging into the meat of her knee. Your hands wrap around her leg, pressing yourself down, focused on the tendrils of pleasure as you press all the way down. “Feels…good. So so go–good.”

You try to ride her boot, gasping at the light pressure against your folds, nails digging into the texture of her jeans. It’s infuriating how the pleasure curls against your spine, then fizzes away, every time Sevika moves her boot, purposely trying to see you writhe against her leg.

“Sev…” You whimper, eyes fluttering open, and you’re completely focused on the pleasure, drooling on Sevika’s jeans, to pay attention to your system. You work in motions, eyes in and out of focus, sometimes watching Sevika’s smile. 

“Doesn’t it feel good, Doll?” She rasps, and you can see her cock twitch against the white tank top, while your tongue salivates, and small tremors rip against your skin. “Just a little more…I won’t touch your pretty cunt until you’ve left a print on my boot.”

And she finally presses her boot against your cunt, with the right amount of pressure pressed against your clit that has you moaning, eyebrows knitted, and cunt clenching. Your legs burn, hips bucking into her boot, while you’re slipping into a soft headspace, trying to keep your mind afloat.

Sevika makes it so difficult, petting your hair while precum coats her cock, and she’s whispering sweet praises at you. “My pretty doll, stick your tongue out, doll.”

A condescending laugh rings across your fuzzy brain, and she’s watching spit pool down, until two fingers glide inside your mouth. You clamp down, lips wrapping around her thick fingers, and she’s pushing inside, feeling the rough pad of your tongue on her fingers. 

Your hips stutter, stomach twitching as warmth slowly pours along your flesh, and you’re louder and louder, hips grinding your clit down with intensity while trying to choke on her fingers. Spit dribbles down the corner of your mouth, licking her and tasting the saltiness of her flesh. 

“That’s it,” Sevika whispers, “Keep fucking yourself on my boot. Isn’t this what you wanted? To fuck yourself on an old pervert like me.”

Lighting strikes across your spine, and you clamp down, hips jerking as you cum on her boot, a high-pitched mewl making your chest vibrate. Your body melts against her leg, the aftershock of your orgasm making your clit twitch. Your mind is fuzzy, slipping and sliding across the pleasure, drinking in Sevika. “So good for me…you deserve a reward for that.”

“Need,” You rasp, throat dry, and she moves her hand to the bottle on the coffee table. The liquid slides down your throat, freshening your hot flesh. “Ple–please…need yo–you in my mouth.”

Her hands wrap around your wrist, stopping you from reaching her cock. You’re all fucked out on her legs, breathing heavily, begging for her cock, and Sevika is close to cumming. Because this feels exactly like one of her many wet dreams, yet you pout at her, pupils dilated, “Please.”

And she’s so fucking weak for you, letting go of your wrist and leaning back down to the couch, as your lips attach to the head of her cock. Each action is done clumsily, too needy, yet Sevika holds in her sanity, fingers gripping the couch, as you suck on the head of her cock, lidded eyes staring at her. 

It’s as if the last measure of embarrassment left your system, leaving nothing but need and want. Your hand reach for Sevika’s, pushing it to your head, and her hips buck, drowning you in her cock, until halfway in, and the head reaches just an inch away from the back of your throat.

You keen at each of her groans and deep moans, filling your ear and the air. It’s blinding, how much you need her, when you finally pull off with a deep breath, spit circles her cockhead, attaching it to your mouth. “Just a little more…” Sevika murmurs, pushing you back on her cock, all the way down, until the oxygen in your brain slowly depletes, and you feel her everywhere, eyes rolling back. 

Your hips flex, pushing down, searching for some relief for the ache building in your pussy.  Your body goes lax, hands lying on your side, while Sevika moans, keeping your head down on her cock as she twitches around your throat.

When she pulls you off, your eyes are unfocused, pawing at her knees, whimpering, and she gets off on it, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you feel better.” She croons. 

Sevika pulls the robe off your body, scooping you off the floor and into her arms. You press kisses across her cheek, down her neck, licking and nipping at her skin, trying to make it red. She drops you on the bed, letting you softly bounce, before she shrugs off her clothing, letting the clink of her belt hit the floor. 

Your eyes rake over Sevika’s body, mouth watering at her brown, hard peaks, and how her cock twitches, curving to the left. “You’re a pervert…trying to undress me,” You whine out, meekly trying to cover your body, as Sevika crawls to you, “You’re taking advantage of me.”

“Am I?” She purrs, and there’s a short flash of guilt as you look at her with your pretty-does eyes, breath shallow, and spit slowly drying in the corner of your mouth. She’s going to defile you, like she’s done to the lacy underwear she’s taken from your drawers. Not that you need to know. “Tell me to stop.”

Sevika’s hands reach for your shorts, slowly pulling them down, waiting for you to push her off, or for the words to hit her eardrum, yet you watch, helping her pull them down, heat rising to your chest as a slick connects your pussy to the shorts. The warmth of Sevika’s skin makes you shudder, and you’re reaching for her tits as she rams her mouth on yours, and it’s all teeth and tongue–unlike the kisses you’ve had before.

Filthy, wet and noisy, pulling little whines out of you while she groans into your mouth. “Months of dre–dreaming of you…fucking me,” You whimper, against Sevika’s mouth, a little hazy, from the pleasure. 

“Really?” Sevika asks, as if she’s bewildered by the idea of you dreaming of her. You nod eagerly as she lowers her lips to your jaw, kissing and breathing you in.

Her tongue licks the sweat on your flesh, nipping the skin, until you’re whining, and each breath sounds punched out. “Don’t worry…I’ll give you the real thing.”

She keeps going lower, kissing along your chest until her mouth is on one of your hardened peaks, and you gasp, feeling her suckle on it. Her tongue twirls, her other hand coming to pinch and play with your other nipple, making your clit twitch. “Sev…”

You squirm in the sheets, feet softly kicking, and Sevika takes her time, rotating between your tits, until they’re puffy and sensitive, a single touch making you moan and whimpers. Her teeth graze at the peak, softly biting them, and it makes your stomach swoop with heat. Your cunt pulses, the aching feeling becoming unbearable, yet your brain melts. 

You can barely utter words, too entranced in the pleasure, until Sevika’s away, and she’s back to trailing kisses along the bottom of your tits. She reaches your naval, nose pressing into a thick patch of hair, and she moves down and down, until she’s breathing against your pussy. A little whine pours from your mouth when her fingers dip down, pulling your wet folds apart, watching slick coat your pussy. 

“You’re dripping, aching for someone to touch you?” Sevika coos, “All needy for me,” and you shut your eyes, nodding dumbly, until Sevika’s tongue licks your clit. You try your hardest not to clamp your thighs, but she’s pressing her face in and in, sucking the swollen, pulsing bud.

A loud whimper bounces on the wall, making Sevika groan, and the vibrations curl against your spine, making your hip buck into her mouth. 

“Fuc–fuck, sev…sev, feels–” Your mouth tumbles over the words, as Sevika licks deeper into you, flattening her tongue, and licking from your sopping hole to your needy clit. She hums to every one of your reactions, fucking you with her tongue, then fluidly moving to suck on the bud.

A filthy squelch rings in your eardrum, and Sevika’s hand on your hip disappears into your legs. Your eyes rush to see her, yet she’s focused on your pleasure, eyes closed as a finger slides so fucking easily inside you, you barely feel it until it curls, pressing that spot.

You moan, loud and whiny, blinking back tears, while she quietly slips another finger in, curling them both and fucking into the spongy spot. “Nnng, har–harder, please. Please…” you hiccup, hand flying to grip Sevika’s short hair, trying to press down. “‘m clo–close.”

Your vision blurs, fat tears rolling down freely, and Sevika savors your pussy, assaulting your clit, until warm spreads across your stomach, and your muscles are tightening. Your pussy clenches against her fingers, and she continues pressing them in, sliding and out of your walls, then curling them. 

Heat pools in your lower back, muscles burning, until everything jolts and your eyes are crossing, waves of pleasure rolling through your system. Your spine lifts from the bed, foot pressing down, indenting the mattress, until it feels too much. Your cunt spasms, and your body softly twitches, until Sevika pulls away, chin wet.

“Did so good for me,” She whispers, kissing your cheek, leaving a trail of wetness on your cheek. You lean up to kiss her, whining into her mouth as she pries you open with her tongue. You can faintly taste yourself on her tongue, and it’s filthy. “So pretty, like this…all fucked out and crying.” 

Sevika pulls away from your mouth, a hand gripping your waist, and the other slapping her cock against the skin of your stomach. “Big…”

Sevika smirks, moving her hips until she’s grinding her cock against your wet pussy, mixing in your slick with her precum. She’s dripping, balls full, trying to keep her composure, while he presses the head against your clit, grinding on it. Your feet kick, hips twitching from slight overstimulation. “You’ll be my good doll, and fit it in, won’t you?” She groans, fingers tightening her grip on your waist.

You hum, clutching the bed sheet, nodding dumbly, trying to slip her inside you. “Please,” and Sevika finally presses the head inside you. A whimper falls from your lips, and Sevika bucks her hips, forcing herself into you. 

“Breathe, doll,” She murmurs, big hands slipping to the back of your thighs, folding them, and pressing them just close enough to feel the heat of your own skin against your stomach. 

She leaves you in that position, and you don’t move, not even when she has only one hand on the back of your thigh, and the other reaching down you pussy, rubbing your clit in slow circles, slowly inching inside you. The feeling of fullness makes you delirious.

“Sev…mo–more,” Your words slur, brain working too slow to form a proper thought. And when she finally presses all the way inside, you whimper. Your cunt feels so fucking stretched out, and you’re sure you’re dripping. 

“I know, doll,” she coaxes, “I know…don’t worry, ‘m going to break you in until you can’t fuck anyone but me.” Her hips buck, finally moving in a slow, languid pace, then picking up speed until her hips are hitting the flesh of your ass. 

Your pussy sletches, wet sounds making you even more fucking aroused, because it’s almost as if your cunt is speaking to her. “Fas–faster.” 

And Sevika snarls, fast thrusts, rocking you forward into the bed, making your tits bounce with every movement, while you’re taking big breaths, each moan and whimper punched out. “Your pussy is swallowing me in,” she groans, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you’re clenching around Sevika, eyes unfocused but taking in her beauty. Sweaty body, and the strands of hair sticking to her forehead as her lidded eyes watch her cock disappear inside you. 

Little ah, ah, ahs spill out of your mouth, nails digging into the mattress, until heat curls in your spine, you feel too stupid to worry about the spit dribbling at the corner of your mouth. You’re addicted–will be addicted, because Sevika is fucking you like she’s imagined this a million times, and mapped exactly where to buck into. 

The head of cock shifts, plunging into that spot again, leaving you breathless, and so so fucking floaty. Small hiccups leave your lips, and tears stream down your cheek, smudging in the small dashes of eyeliner, leaving a faint black smudge of tears. Sevika looks up, and she moans seeing how wrecked you look for her.  

“Squeezing me…so tight,” Sevika moans, “What is it, baby? Want me to fill you up?” And she gasps, feeling you tighten again around her cock. Jackpot. Your back arches, cunt pulsing, head swimming in the thought of Sevika filling up your belly, leaving some of her inside you. 

“Nngg ye–yes,” You gasp, “Inside…inside.” 

Your body trembles, thigh muscles shaking until you can see your skin twitch, and Sevika’s so fuckiing loud, damn near in your groaning and moaning at the pace of your own whiny, high-pitched mewls. “Come…come stay with me. Move in with me,” Sevika breathes out, “Be my wife…my…my pretty bride. C’mon, say you’ll come with, and I’ll let you cum.”

Oh, god.

Your eyes roll, nodding and nodding, trying to make small coherent yes’s and only babbling, but Sevika sees. And she grins, mouth wide, pushing in deeper and faster, until your nerves are on fire, and hypersensitive, body tightening. 

Your toes spread out into the air, and your pussy gushes on Sevika’s cock, coating it in clear liquid. A choked sob rings in the air, and you feel drunk and high at the same time, as flashes of your ceiling and Sevika’s face cross your eyes. Every muscle in your body seizes, and a deep, guttural groan rings, until you feel so so fucking full. 

Sevika empties herself inside you, teeth reaching down to your calf, etching into your skin until pain shoots through your spine. When she pulls away, there’s a mark, and she's still fucking into you, riding her own high and fucking yours out, until you’re twitching. 

Your mind is pliant and fuzzy, body lax on the body, while every move is in slow motion, in and out of view. A long moment of silence passes, and your body is still shuddering, thigh twitching, brain slowly coming to work. Soreness picks at your skin, and you suddenly feel empty, too empty. “Need to clean you, doll.” A voice murmurs next to your ear. 

After a beat, you’re cold, and your eyes finally flutter open, while Sevika is wiping you down. She’s radiating, pupils blown, with a hazy smile on her lips. Her eyes snap to yours, and she leans down to press a kiss on your stomach, then on your forehead, “My sweet doll, so perfect. So good for me. ‘m gonna take care of you.”

“You…bit me?” You gasp out, and she darts to the waterbottle on the nightstand, lifting your head, until you’re drinking in small sips. Your insides cool, and Sevika’s still staring at you, a little unfocused and wild. 

She hums, “Yeah. You belong to me now. You’ll live with me…sleep with me, shower with me.” And her words are so soft, yet firm to the point they rattle your bones, making you sink into the bed. “You said yes.” 

You aren’t sure of what to do. Somehow your brain can’t come up with any scenarios in which you’re apart from Sevika, and it feels so, so suffocating, and exhilarating, you’re crying again. Sevika croons at you, hand wrapping around your chin, licking your tear, “Shh…don’t cry, doll. I can’t have my wife crying…now, tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” You whimper, voice faltering, a shiver running down your spine. “Belong to you, and only you. ‘m your wife.”

You do move out of your shitty apartment, somewhere near Moonbuck. It’s sort of a hazy memory, the way Sevika inserts herself into your life, like she’s meant to be there by divine or human intervention. Like she’s etched her place beside you, and glued you to her skin. 

You find your ‘lost’ panties a month into moving with her, and she doesn’t deny anything, and you don’t fight about it. But again, it’s not like you’re able to when she shoves them in your mouth and bends you over the counter, recounting every detail about how she protected you, her pretty barista, throughout those months. 

mdni | content: noncon dry humping, noncon kissing, perv/creepy reader (very), oral sex, strap blow job, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, rough vaginal sex, pet names, praise kink, daddy kink, mild subspace, age difference (about 20 years...), dom/sub undertone, dacryphilia, strapping (shimmer strap), tribbing, obsessive/possessive behavior, somnophilia, morning sex... Pairing: dads best friend! Sevika x reader a/n: fic based on this lovely request. 11.3k words...I apologize for how long this is. its set in regular arcane timeline but ignoring everything that was currently happening, and the camping scene in towards the end since I didn't know how to structure it. Apologies for that :(

The first time you meet Sevika, you consider it a...change in fate. You were fifteen, lounging in bed, when a rough, soft voice echoed in the kitchen. Your father had never brought over company; something in you believed that after your mother left, he simply found it difficult to bring people around. When you stalked down the wooden stairs, you sat on top, fingers tracing over the cracks on the floor.

You only saw Sevika from behind. Her hair was somewhat longer than it is now, and she had fewer muscles but still looked strong. She walked as if life itself was already too heavy for her, and as your father offered a seat at the dining table and rambled, her eyes moved to the stairs. You were covered by the darkness of the hallway, and to this day, you’re not sure if she saw you.

But you did look into her eyes, nearly losing yourself in the stark, cold grayness of their eyes. Your eyes raked over every crevice of her body, staring at her nose, the marks on her brown skin, and her arm. Her mechanical arm. You admired the shine on the metal and how it glowed softly, before letting out a soft huff of steam.

Sevika was the reason for your interest in all things mechanical. Throughout the seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks you spent thumbing over metal parts, you wondered about her. How her arm felt, how she maneuvered herself, and if she felt the phantom sensation of her arm despite it being gone.

You enjoyed thinking about her. Maybe a bit too much.

Around your eighteenth birthday, a month after you started an apprenticeship, in some underground mechanic shop, your father started talking about Sevika. He’d mention her in tidbits because, despite having always wanted to leave Zaun, it was more like a dream for people, an achievable goal. His best friend for three years, he said.

The reason he had a job after, the last one threw him out. You never really asked about his work, but when he mentioned her name, you finally asked. A rather guilty expression turned in his face, and he gave you a sad smile, “Just this and that.” He replied, and then he’d talk about her. When he showed you a picture of her, you stared at the picture for the longest time.

She looked different. Older, more handsome, and beautiful, like the years have done her better than before. You focused on the smile lines of Sevika’s face, and how it seemed to be turned into a scowl, and your favorite, her grey eyes. You can now describe the feeling of seeing Sevika as the daze your body has when you’re drunk, and trying to sleep—like your body is out of control and everything you feel seems to be slipping through your fingers.

“Do you ever show her pictures of me?” You asked, and he paused for a second, thinking and thinking.

He nodded, “Yeah, I showed her the picture Cleo took when you started working,” and he perked up, taking out a photo of you holding a torch, standing next to a small robot, on a table with an awkward smile painted on your face.

Sevika comes over the next day, per your father's request. As you’re plating everything, making sure every piece of food looks edible and presentable, the click of the front door rings, and a set of heavy boots softly thud, before they come to a halt behind you. You figure it was your father, but when you turn, grey eyes stare back at you.

Your body froze, fingers twitching, and you never moved from your spot, the heat of the plates softly burning your skin. You found it even harder to breathe as she looked at you, and a feeling of unease washed over your body. How can someone whom you’ve barely even met make you feel so...dizzy?

So not in control of anything, not even your breathing, and the mechanical functions of your body. From the other end of the house, your father closes a door, and he’s nearly dashing to Sevika, “You made it.” He gleamed, and she looked at him, as a smirk slowly curled in her lips, showing you a tiny gap between her teeth.

For a second, you wondered how her mouth tasted. How she’d kiss...was she rough? Soft? Do her hands wander as she holds you? Your throat bobbed, saliva pooling in your throat. “Dad, food is done.” You say, voice coming out a little cracked.

Your father’s smile widened, and he rushed to your side, hugging you, “My daughter, the one I always talk about.”

Sevika hummed, “Looks like you.”

“You think so?” Your father responds, though a faint redness can be seen on his face, “The light of my life.”

“Dad.”And he stopped, as he steered Sevika to the dining table, then helped you set it. You watched Sevika, from your peripheral view, while your father spilled his guts as he poured amber liquid into his and Sevika’s cup. He loosened, and somehow Sevika did too.

They spoke about random crap, you did not care much for, often only listening to the small references of the bar in the Lane district. When the metal bottle was finally empty, your father’s eyes were red and lidded, barely opened. He wobbled and wobbled until you had to help him into his room. His soft snoring rang in every direction.

Sevika barely moved, and from the end of the stairs, you stared at her back, waiting. She rose slowly, making the wooden chair scrape against the floor, and you walked behind her, fingers ghosting over her body until she took a step back, falling into your hands. Her head snapped to you, and she gave you a smirk, “Trying to...catch me, kid.”

And you nodded, moving her to the worn-out couch, nearly falling on top of her when she let go of her weight, pulling down with her. You pulled your arm from behind her, letting her arm rest around your neck, nearly pulling you into her body. Her head rolled from side to side, and she stayed still for a moment, breathing, turning soft and even.

You lingered next to her, nose pushing into her clothing, smelling smoke and liquor. Your hand brushed around her metal arm, extending until you poked and prodded around, nearly feeling the drumming of the machine underneath your skin. And you touched everywhere, finally looking at her face.

You knew there was something wrong with you. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it that day. Your lips brushed against her temple, clothing rustling, while Sevika softly breathed. And your lips trailed down her cheek, until they touched her lips. A soft sigh fell from your throat, and you pressed again, and again.

Heat curled around your body, spine turning taunt with bliss. A small grunt echoed out of her body, and you pressed your body against hers, nearly letting your weight fall, trying to feel every inch of her skin on your own. You stayed there for minutes, until it turned into an hour, hearing the soft thud of her heart.

Your father kept bringing Sevika over, but you tried to avoid her. You pushed yourself into work, spending most of your time at the shop. Sometimes you wouldn’t even go home, only spending an hour or two in the afternoon to cook something for your father, then rushing outside. You jumped from shop to street, lounging around, avoiding the memory and the flashes of guilt.

There were times you’d walk home, and they’d be there, but you’d rush past them, taking a shower and pushing your body to sleep. And that kept going, while your curiosity about her never dulled. Around your twentieth birthday, two days afterwards, Sevika comes to Cleo’s shop.

You were mostly focused on an order for a magnet glove when Cleo passed by with a mechanical arm in her hand. It was a silver one, the one she had been working on in her spare time for those who came looking for such a thing. She smiles at it, pale cheeks turning slightly pink.

You only really got up when a strong, deep voice called out her name. They spoke for a few seconds, and you inched closer just near the wall opening, catching a glimpse of a large back and short hair pulled into a ponytail—exactly like Sevika’s, that was your first thought.

Cleo turned, pointing to the mechanical arm and the woman’s arm. “C’mon, Sevika, I worked really hard...at least try it.”

You stood on the other end of the wall, listening to the slow murmur of their conversation and the occasional hums and words falling from Sevika’s lips. You found her demeanor to be still as rough as before and yet...you couldn’t stop thinking about her. In an odd way, you found the soft roughness of her voice soothing, like a lullaby or the rumbling of the city, that lulls you to sleep.

“Does she come here often?” You asked Cleo two hours after Sevika left.

Cleo looked at you for a second, brown eyes narrowing, and she tilted her head, “Sevika?” You nod, and she moves from the table, giving you a small shrug. “Sometimes. Why?”

“I think my dad works with her…” You murmur, tightening the screw of a lamp. The light flickers on it, and it blinks white for a second before turning yellow, “What does she do?”

Cleo pauses, “She’s Silco’s right-hand.”

“The…” The words die in your throat before you can say crime lord, or anything that represented the many rumors you’ve heard. The Eye of Zaun. The Industrialist. You heard stuff about him and about Sevika, too, though you always left or rushed out before they could ever keep uttering nonsense. But maybe they were telling the truth.

“Yes.”

Much of what you learn about Sevika was because of Cleo. Sometimes she’d throw in a piece of information like the explosion that caused her to lose her arm, or about her strong personality, and rumored preference for women. You’d be lying if you said you never imagined her, next to you while you slept. It made you lose your mind, just how easily she took over your head.

When you showered, you could almost always faintly hear her behind you. The ghosting press of her arm against your skin, until you bend down, cheek pressed against the tile, and mouth her name. Sometimes when you lie in bed, staring at the broken, half-fixed ceiling, she’d appear in the corner of your eyes. A cigar in her mouth, smoke curling around her while you slowly stripped, legs open, waiting for her to move.

You walk into Cleo’s shop around nine in the morning. About two days after you asked Cleo about Sevika’s work. You find her, looking through spare parts, while the summer heat blares through the dirty windows, shining on the table.

“I heard Sevika works at that bar...The Last Drop?”

Cleo pushes a crushed arm out of her way before humming, “Yeah, at Lane district...talking about Last Drop, there’s a delivery arranged. You want to try taking it?”

“You trust me that much now?” You ask, with a small smile, grabbing your coat and the special badge Cleo carries around.

She scoffs, “Can’t have you holed up here all the time.” She disappears into the back room, before she’s coming back out with a box and a small bag. “Delivery, and look for one of the working girls called ‘Pinky’ and check the wiring in her leg.”

You nod, taking the box and the bag. “I’ll try to last too long.”

“You work hard. Get yourself a drink.” And you smile at her words, before leaving the shop. The heat crackled against your skin, and sweat poured down your temple as you walked through the damp sewer system and the old buildings. The smell of the street is a mix of oil and something putrid, but it cuts the forty-five-minute walk into twenty-five.

When you arrive at The Last Drop, there are people outside, and you can hear the jeers and yells. There’s a small amount of sweat sliding down your head into your back, and you walk inside, nose crunching at the smell of cigarettes and sweat. You move through bodies before spotting your father towards the back, at a card table, while Sevika deals.

Her mechanical fingers flip the cards, passing them out at such speed you can’t follow along. Your father smiles next to her, and she’s smoking, a smirk painted on her lips. You stare at the table for a second, a part of you hoping he’d see you. 

You walk away from the crowded front, before your father looks up, and you hand the box to a short, stout woman before asking for “Pinky.” She points to some doors, and the lights flicker as you rush through them. 

You’re not prepared to see women pampering themselves, fixing their hair, and changing with each other while the smell of floral perfume lingers in the air. Some of them are naked, some are wearing pretty lingerie, hair puffed up with red lips, and pretty eye shadows. Their eyes land on you, a moment of awkwardness at your sudden appearance. 

Perhaps this is the type Sevika likes. Pretty and pampered, someone who smells of coconut, and paints their cheeks. A rush of jealousy curls against your spine. “Is Pinky here?”

A young woman moves from a closet, with bright pink long hair and a mechanical leg on one side. “Cleo sent you?”

“Yes,” And you wiggle the bag in the air as she signals for you to walk to her. You move past the pretty girls, eyes lingering on their outfits and the way they murmur with each other. Pinky walks you to another connected room, and she sits down, pulling a fluffy coat to her body.

You open the bag, your hands landing on screw drives and whatever equipment Cleo nudged inside the bag. “What’s wrong?”

Pinky shrugs, “The big toe won’t flex,” and you watch as the faux mechanical toes all move, except for the big one. You kneel in front of her, fingertips gliding along the cool metal and black wiring, lining down to her metal ankle.

You work on the wiring, making Pinky flex and move, until you’re halfway done. The click on the door is soft, and it opens, and from behind you, Pinky smiles. Her cheeks turn red, nearly matching the color of her lips. “Sevy, have you come to greet me? Lost the game?”

You try not to look behind you, and you pace yourself while Pinky talks, and the thud of Sevika’s shoes steps behind you. Sevika’s voice rings behind you, and she feels so close, you’re sure if you step back, you’d collide with her. “No, I’m here to make sure everything is alright.”

You hold your breath, “Finished. Try not to get the wiring wet for at least a day. The drying coat needs time to settle in.”

“Something happened to the leg?” Asks Sevika, and she walks to your side, while you move in the opposite direction, hiding your face.

Pinky hums, “Malfunction or something. Nothing new.”

You’re quick to grab your bag, and you’re moving to leave until a hand curls around your arm, and you’re twirled around, back hitting a table, knocking a bottle over. The push pulls a gasp out of you, and you’re staring into Sevika’s grey eyes, while she’s looking into yours, eyes narrowed. There’s a cigarette in her mouth, and the light gleams red, so fucking close to your face.

“Y/N…” She murmurs, and it comes out so soft and deep, like she’s begging you. Like you’ve known and talked to each other for years, like she’s done something wrong, and needs you to forgive her. A sliver of ash falls from her cigarette as your mouth opens. You try to say something, but nothing comes out.

From the corner of your eye, Pinky is leaning back into her seat, “You two know each other?”

“Yes”

“No.” You respond, and your voices mingle with each other, answering Pinky at the same time. Sevika’s eyes twitch, and her hands feel so warm on your skin, as if she’s rubbed them together or hovered them over a fire. It’s electric. “Let me go.” You whisper, the words ringing between you and her.

Her hands drop, and your skin turns cold. A part of you misses the warmth. The jolt of heat that rushed through your spine when her fingers touched you. You ducked your head, avoiding eye contact until you walked outside the bar, finally taking a breath.

Sevika comes back the next day, early in the afternoon, when Cleo is out and about trying to haggle for mechanical parts in the south of Zaun. You clean the shop, though not many come through, except for the couple of people who had a previous arrangement with Cleo and fixed their issue with you. You’re handling a mechanical eye that gleams bright red before the little bells on the door ring.

You don’t pay much attention to the door, gloved hands placing the eyes in an enclosed compartment. “There’s no mechanical replacement available today...only scheduled pickups.”

“How about a checkup?”

You twirl around, nearly dropping the box, as you see Sevika. “Cleo didn’t mention you’d come.”

She moves from the foot of the door, her red shawl moving with each movement, and the thud of her shoes makes goosebumps rise on your flesh. She smiles at you, though it almost seems kind of mocking. “We’ve known each other for years...I thought I’d be given a better response yesterday.”

You press your lips to a thin line, “I was working.”

Her head tilts, “So you avoided me?”

Your throat bobs, and you place the compartment down, wiping your hands, before taking out a seat at the table. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I just...I didn’t want to intrude between you and your gir—”

“Friend,” Sevika interjects, and she stops in front of you, eyes raking over your frame before taking a seat at the table, legs spread open. “She’s my friend. Nothing more.”

There’s a brief silence in which you simply stare at her, then at her arm. “What can I do for you?”

Her eyes narrow, and she licks her lips, “Just maintenance. Check the wiring. Make sure everything is good.”

You move from the table, feeling Sevika’s eyes laser-focused on the back of your head. Since that day, each of your actions has been calculated. You think extra hard before even moving left or right, trying to avoid the rumble of guilt and the feeling of mistake. With each pacing second, you feel as though Sevika is shining a giant light on you, while you’re in a dark room watching you, waiting for a reaction.

When you walk back to the table, you put down Cleo’s bag, opening it to find the usual items, to pry Sevika’s mechanical arm open. “Since you’ve been avoiding me, you’ll have to make it up to me...I don’t think your father would be too happy to know you’re being mean to me.”

Your eyes flicker to hers, looking back down as you reach for her arm. The metal is cold, with colors of dark green and rust, while a bright purple radiation gleams from the inside. Her metal fingers are sharp and long, bigger than her flesh fingers. “How?”

Her shoulders shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe you will have to show me the stuff you’ve built. Maybe you will do me a favor…I’ll tell you later. You building anything new here?”

“Something's...here and there. Nothing interesting.” You respond, and you take your time checking the wiring on her mechanical arms. When you’re finished, your fingers rake over the metal work, praying into the small empty spaces between the metals. Just like before. “Though I’ve fixed a couple of mechanical and shimmer-powered arms.”

“Do they ask for you specifically?”

You shake your head, “No. My work is not that well-known…”

When you look up, her grey eyes are dilated, darkness eating her grey irises, and her chest heaves up and down, breathing shallow. And you realize that your tendency to run away from Sevika isn’t because of her, but rather because of your lack of self-control.

When she’s near, you run on impulse. Searching and searching for her to give you a reaction, a sliver of attention. Anything that tells you that she sees you. That she needs you. “You have a beautiful arm…” You whisper to her, and her lips part for a second. With Sevika, it’s as if your brain refuses to calculate. You have to act.

You grab onto the hand of her arm, and you spread her metal fingers pressing them against your cheek, until you shudder, and it’s as if you’ve dunked yourself in cold water. Sevika’s fingers flex, and they latch onto your cheek, thumb pressing into your skin. “Y/N…”

She says your name as sweetly as she did the day before. Soft and pulled slowly from her lungs, each syllable dripping with heat. You hum, eyes flutter while you nuzzle your cheek into the cold metal. “Are you worried about hurting me? It feels nice.”

Sevika is frozen. Transfixed. Like if her brain is taking its time processing your actions, trying to make sense of you. The metal twitches, digging into your skin, and you press into it until a sliver of pain shoots down your spine, and you softly hiss. 

The pressure of her metal finger pulls away, quickly and roughly, accidentally slicing a line into your skin. It takes a second for your cheek to feel cold and damp. “Jesus,” Sevika breathes, and she’s moving, eyes searching for a towel or anything, while your finger touches the small wound, a sliver of red gleaming on your fingers. 

You barely have any time to react to it before she’s tilting your head, pressing a napkin into it. “Your father will be pis—”

“Do you only date the women you work with?” Your throat bobs, hand flying to clutch the red shawl, and her jean blood mixing in with the material. You swear you feel her warm skin through her washed-out jeans.

Sevika says nothing, while your words echo in the shop. And she blinks at you, before the skin of her cheek twitches. “What did you say?”

You don’t understand if her question is rhetorical or if she really didn’t hear you, but you repeat the question, while the material of the napkin is pressed on you. “Do you only date the women you work with?”

“Your father and I ar—”

“My question has nothing to do with my father. Do you?”

She maneuvers your hand to press on the napkin, and she takes a step back. Your hand falls from her shawl, and she turns, footsteps ringing as she walks away from you, hand flexing next to her. They open and close, forming a fist, and as the bell of the door dings, Sevika disappears.

You whisper her name into the air later that day. You sink into your fingers, face pressed into your ugly green pillow, muffling your whimpers and choked sobs, while you think about Sevika. Each scenery is filthier than the last.

Her using you in each room of The Last Drop, you sitting on her lap, belly full with her faux cock while she plays a poker game, her keeping you naked in her work office, ready to relieve her stress anytime she’d ask. Each scenario replaying over and over, while you thumb your swollen, puffy clit, wishing she could see you.

You don’t work the next day; instead, you lounge around the house, itching to fix anything mechanical, anything that reminds you of Sevika’s arm. A friend of yours comes around when your father is gone, and he sits on the old couch, “So you and me, equals Last Drop, tonight.”

“I thought you had no money.”

He shrugs, “Poker game tonight. I feel lucky, and yes, I checked that your father isn’t working tonight. So no hiding.”

You sit next to him, old boots pressing into the space under the table, “What are you betting in your poker game?”

“I heard Sevika is playing tonight, so...maybe my board, but the one that glows. Looks expensive, but really it’s cheap.”

“Me.”

Your friend quirks his eyebrows, “Huh?”

“Bet me. Don’t bet your hoverboard. I offer myself as the...money tonight.”

He laughs, and laughs, rolling in place, and wiping away a tear while you stare at him. When he stops, he realizes you aren’t fucking around, and his throat bobs. “Are you...serious?”

“Yes,” You breathe out, excitement drumming through your veins, nearly envisioning Sevika in front of you. You argue with him for a good hour about the novelties and the ethics and whatnot about his betting you in a poker game. Something about his consciousness not allowing him, until you spill about Sevika.

When he finally understands, he leans back into the couch, nails drumming on his paint-stained pants, “And if she doesn’t win?”

“She will.”

You pray on your word, though you aren’t the religious type. When the sky gets darker, and your father comes home, immediately dropping his things at the foot of the door and dashing to bed, you begin to change. Some of your prettier clothing, with some makeup, highlighting your eyes.

Your friend picks you up an hour later, and you both walk outside of The Last Drop, watching bodies spill outside the door. You wade through the sea of bodies, the smell of chemicals, smoke, and ash hanging in the air. You’re pushed and moved until your friend walks to the poker table, Sevika’s eyes land on yours, and your friend is quick to sit down and curl his arm around your waist.

“My girl wants to be tonight’s money…” He says with a soft purr in his voice. Eyes rush from him to you, and the men jeer and smile, while your eyes linger on Sevika. “Will that be an issue?”

They all shake their head, “Finally, something worth losing an arm and a leg.” One of them says, eyes raking over your body. Sevika says nothing, and she deals the card, lighting a cigarette. They pass and pass cards, throwing in odd words, until your friend sighs.

There’s a dejected look that passes through their eyes, and their eyes brush over to you, until your friend leans back, a faint smile on his lips as he looks up at you, “House wins.”

When you look at Sevika, she’s staring at the table, while the players grumble in defeat. Her eyes flicker to yours, and you smile. Got you.

You go back to the bar, feeling the warmth of a familiar body, and coldness seeps into your skin as Sevika wraps her metal fingers around your wrist. “Walk.”

People part for her as she walks through the crowd, some eyes following her movement, before she walks up a pair of stairs, and you’re following her. The paint of the walls changes, and a myriad of doors decorate them. She pushes one open, closing it when you make it inside, letting go of your hand.

The room is prepared, with candles slowly flickering on the sides. “What were you thinking?” Sevika snarls, and she’s walking towards you as you back up, knees hitting the bed. “I could’ve lost, your little boyfriend could’ve lost, and what then? You’d call your father?”

You fall on the bed, tilting your head up to see her, “He’s not my boyfriend...and you’ve never lost.”

“Enjoy tonight...because this is the last time you’ll be here.”

Your eyes narrow at her words, teeth chewing the inside of your cheek, “Fine. I’m sure my friend or one of those poker buddies of yours will help me to enjoy my last night.”

Sevika’s nose flares a scowl painted on her face, and you get up from the bed, moving past her fingers on the doorknob before she pushes you to the wall, twirling you and moving you into the corner of the room. Her mechanic fingers reach your chin, squeezing your cheeks. “Don’t be a brat.”

A whimper falls from your lips, eyebrows knitted together, because she sounds so fucking mean in the best way possible. And her knee is slowly pressing in between your legs, rising to touch your needy cunt that flutters. You sharply inhale, “And if I am? What does...what does that have to do with you? Does having me...up against the wall turn you on?”

Sevika’s throat bobs, and her pupils are slowly dilating, top lip twitching. She’s mad, nearly fuming at your words, even though a flash of guilt passes through her face. “Y/N...don’t make me throw you out.”

“Does it?” You ask through a sharp gasp as her metal fingers tighten. Your spine is on fire, and you can faintly hear the rush of your blood against your own ears. “Maybe...maybe, you want to hear how I fuck myself thinking about you. Or that...I haven’t let anyone touch me since the day you got drunk at my house.”

Sevika’s eyes widen, a sharp inhale curling from your throat. “You­—”

A sharp knock echoes in the room, while Sevika stares at you, breathing through her nose. Her throat bobs, and you faintly smile at her, “Fuck me here. Doesn’t matter...if they’re outside, c’mon. Please.” You whine out the last word, and it seems to break her because she backs away nearly.

“Out.” The door is knocked on again, and she moves, pulling it open, and rushing past some woman, and an older gentleman, as they walk inside the room, eyebrows furrowing at you as you’re still pressed into the wall.

You don’t leave. You don’t even make it to the double doors before you’re hiding somewhere near your friend and some other people, watching Sevika drown herself in alcohol. Each wave of her hand was replied with a shot full of an amber liquid, and she’d look at it for a second before pouring it down her throat.

Satisfaction rushes through your skin, and somewhere along the night, bodies began to slowly disappear. You only move when Sevika gets up, wobbly walking with her head held high. And you follow her into the dingy bathroom, waiting for a second before you walk into it, tilting your body to look under the stalls, until you see her shoes peeking from the one in the end.

You knock on it, while different women come and go, giving you a half-dazed smile. “Sev...Sevika.”

She grumbles from behind the stall, and you rattle it until she opens it. Her back is against the wall, head in her hand, while she softly mumbles to herself. You near her, trying to hold her. “Let's take you home.” And she grunts.

For a second, you have a good hold on her, but the slippery floor makes your movement difficult, and Sevika moves, caging you against the bathroom wall, holding you hostage there. She’s got you pressed, and she’s looking down, with a half-lidded smile, strong arms slowly wrapping around your back.

“Sevika,” You call out, trying to keep your voice restrained. You can’t make the mistake as last time. You can’t take advantage of her like this.

She hums, right next to your ear, pressing her lips to the shell of your ear, tongue darting to the flesh, and you bite your lips as she nibbles. Your pussy pulses, pleasure rushing through your flesh with each lick. Her tongue pulls a whimper out of you, and your nails dig into her arm, pressing an indentation into her skin.

“Sound...pretty,” she says, words slow and slurred, “Should taste your cunt...right here...’m horrible. ‘m so—sorry...”

A tremble passes through your body, the words echoing against your skull. Slick pours from your pussy, and you’re sure you’ve never been more aroused in your life as the thought of Sevika just pushing you down and having her way with you brushes your brain.

Her apology is soft, though thickly laced with lust and need. But you try to force her back, and she grunts before pressing harder into you, knee jerking between yours. Her fingers clutch the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at her. “Sevika...stop it,” You hiss, trying again.

Her head bobs, eyes falling closed, and she leans in, just enough that you can feel her breath on your lips. You can see the pores in her face, and her lashes, and smell every shot she took. “’m older than your...father.” She mumbles out, lips pressing your cheek as you freeze. “But...I can...make your pussy feel good...swear. Good stamina...fuck you full.”

Your moan mixes with the sudden knock against the stall. A heat rushes through your stomach, while Sevika’s eyes flutter open, and she wobbles away from you, nearly hitting the toilet. You’re quick to wrap her arm around your head, pushing through your own needy haze. “I’ll take you home…” You begin, and her mouth opens before closing again. “I know...where you live.”

She grumbles, shaking her head, “Near...near here..far away.” and she repeats that as you haul her outside the bathroom, softly grunting when she presses half her weight on you. Your friend disappears, and you carry Sevika, sometimes swaying into a building and taking a breather before, walking again.

When you finally get her home, you’re quick to fetch a water bottle, and as you put it down on her nightstand, you see a picture. A picture of you, a small one, but not a recent one, like it had been taken some time ago. Your fingers thumb on the handle of the table, and when you pull, more pictures appear.

One when you’re eighteen, around the time you officially meet her, then a couple months later. One of you a day after your twentieth birthday, one of the following year, and then more and more, nearly filling the cabinet. The discovery is blinding because it means you’re not the only pervert between the two.

And you move from the nightstand, taking off Sevika’s boot, and her clothing, leaving her in underwear and a shirt, though your eyes impulsively stare at the line of hair streaming down from her belly button into her dark underwear. Your fingers press the material, feeling the muscles of her stomach through the fabric, and the softness of her breast.

Your nails trail down, passing where her hip bone is, down to her thighs. Then back up, until you’re touching her face, outlining her skin. You look through her clothing, smelling gunpowder and smoke on them, and just before you leave, you strip down to your bra and underwear.

You lie next to her, head nuzzled on the mass of her bicep, so close you can smell sweat, sandalwood, and gunpowder mixed in the coarse hairs under her arm. It’s intoxicating, better than anything you’d imagine, so so much better. A sigh falls from your lips, palm pressed to her stomach, and you push yourself, leaning until your lips touch hers.

“Sev…” You whimper into her skin, pressing down her side, and throwing your leg over hers. Sevika grunts as your hand pushes upwards, cupping her breast, and each soft thrust of your hip is torture. Each kiss is soft and chaste, as her chest rumbles and snores fall out of her.

You try to suppress your fucked-up urges, failing as your tongue darts to the corner of her mouth, sucking her bottom lip, and pushing to taste the liquor and smoke on her tongue. The room fills with your meek hiccups and moans. Sevika softly moans, pushing past her snore, hips jolting, each time your hand squeezes her boob.

You buck against her, pussy gliding against her hip bone, thinking about her fucking you full. “Daddy,” You hiccup wetly, clit twitching as you push down, thrusting your face into her axilla, and taking in every ounce of her scent.

The bed squeaks with each of your thrusts, and you’re so fucking close, heat stirring in your lower belly, while your clit grinds into Sevika’s body. The movement of her hand sliding on top of your thigh, mechanical hands squeezing your skin, is what sends you over the edge. And you pathetically hump her hip, nearly sobbing as you involuntarily open your mouth, drool sliding and covering your mouth and her armpit.

You lie there for an hour, quietly twitching, and hiccuping, feeling slick pour out of your cunt, until the bottom of your panties is wet. You nuzzle against her again, hands pressing under her shirt, touching her warm stomach, and gliding against her skin, just feeling her. You’re not sure what time you'll make it back home.

All you know is that you touch yourself again, this time one finger inside, curling it until you’re crying and calling out Sevika’s name, begging her to use your body, and to punish you for being disgusting. By two in the morning, you fall asleep with three fingers still inside, cheeks wet and panting.

The summer heat blared against each surface of the house. Cleo gives you a week off, something about it being too hot to make deliveries. You lounge around the house, working on your forgotten projects, until your father knocks on your door.

He opens, awkwardly standing there for a second. “Sevika will come to us to the cabin...I know I’m breaking tradition, but you sh—”

“Sure.”

He pauses, eyes slightly widening, before he smiles, “Really?”

You nod, eagerly, “Yeah, why not?”

“I thought you didn’t like her.” And he says that with a relieved sigh, “She can give you some pointers with the ladies...if that’s what you’re into...you know I support you.”

“I know, Dad. Does she know I’ll be there?”

He tilts his head, “Yeah, of course.”And he rambles on and on about his ‘younger’ self, and how he loved and loved, always having a girl on his arm. You leave the next day, just a couple of hours after packing your clothing. Each other is more revealing than the other.

Your leave Zaun, into the thick, dense woods of Borderland, and the world seems to shed that dark grey color infested over Zaun, into a soft blue and green. The Borderland was a midway place, filled with nature and green, unlike Zaun and Piltover. And through an arrangement, they left the place open, though no one can construct or alter the terrarium.

How did your father do it? Who the hell knows? The cabin is in the far back, near a hidden blue lake. It’s a stark, dark brown with log for walls, and a nice porch with a small swing. When you arrive, Sevika is at the front, a thick bag over her shoulder, while she smokes a cigarette. The sun reaches her boots, and she exhales, smoke curling in front of her.

“Though we’d beat you here.” Your father calls out. You follow behind, face growing hot, remembering every detail of the filthy things you did. Sevika’s eyes follow you before looking at your father, a grin moving to her face.

“Never, old man.”

And she walks behind you, until your father drops his bag on the couch. “Okay, so only two rooms. Sevika, you and Y/N can take the bigger room, and I’ll take the bed on the other side.”

“Dad, are you sure? Your back is n—”

“I’m sure”, and he waves you off, before grabbing his bag again and walking to the opposite side. You look at him with a sigh before walking away.

Sevika follows you to the end of the hall, and you push the door open, smelling wood and oil. A brief moment passes, and you let the silence linger. You wait for her to say something. To sneer at you or call you an impetuous brat, but instead she sets her things down and looks at the bathroom, inspecting every inch. Her eyes glide over your frame, and she’s moving out of the room, while you blink back tears.

Your father, bless his soul, takes no notice of the blooming tension between you both. He unloads the bags of food into the little fridge, humming to himself, while Sevika is outside, a beer next to her chair, as she stares at the dense, thick woods. “Honey, what should we eat today?”

You mumble out some bullshit answer, and he takes it. “We should put Sevika’s skill to the test.” He says, and you scoff.

“If she can cook, that is.” You lounge around in the basement, ignoring the heat building in your skin, flushing down your scalp, and down your spine. You imagine that the sky is dark, bruised blue, and you work through your old shitty inventions, twisting nails and metal, until it seems pointless.

The door of the basement clicks open, and you don’t look back, hands continuing to work on the little mechanical robot that flickers as you heat the wiring. The smells of smoke and dust.

“The food is done,” Sevika says, words echoing in the dark, dusty room. The yellow light above you flickers, and you bite your tongue, trying to stay civil.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, breathing even. “I’ll eat later.” And the robot flickers again, before finally lighting up, pixelated eyes blinking at you. From behind, Sevika walks to you, though you don’t pay attention, not until your elbow clashes into her stomach.

Before you turn, she bends down, wrapping her metal fingers around your neck and tightening them until you gasp. “Sevi—”

“Either you come up and eat...and I forgive that stunt you pulled at Last drop and when you dropped me off, or I bend you over my lap until your ass is purple, drag you to your father and explain to him why his pretty daughter came home late that day.”

And her fingers tighten again, digging into your skin while heat pools in your lower back and your pussy throbs, nerves eating every rational thought. Your lips part, a needy whimper coming out instead of a coherent answer, and Sevika clicks her teeth in disappointment. You try again, head bobbing while slowly beginning to feel dizzy and soft around the edges.

“Atta girl,” Sevika purrs, loosening her hold, but leaning down and pushing her tongue inside you. She tastes every inch of your mouth, licking the underside of your tongue, then sucking on it, humming in satisfaction as you mewl around her tongue. When she pulls back, your eyes are lidded, and a line of spit connects you to her lips. “You’re not going to disappoint daddy, are you?”

And you shake your head, wetly gasping when her hand falls, and oxygen finally flows to your brain. She smiles at you, patting your head, and leaves while you stare at the wall. You vibrate in place, trying not to cum untouched, clit pulsing against the material of your pants.

You’re not going to disappoint, Daddy, are you now

You walk in measured steps, holding onto the wall, head swimming with each movement. When you walk outside, you put on a smile, taking the plate Sevika gives you. You look at her, waiting for something, anything, despite your father being mere inches away, and she knows this because she points to a chair next. Go. A command.

When you sit down, she’s in the opposite chair, right in front of you, while your father is next to her. He’s mumbling about memories. And then he perks up, slapping his knee. “Come on, Vika, give my little girl some pointers from your younger days.”

She smiles, “Younger days? Are you calling me old?”

“Come on, you’ve had your share of beauties, years before my daughter was born.” He replies with a laugh, while the fire crackles and there's a howl of cicadas ringing in the night.

Sevika hums, reaching into the space in the enclosed fire pit, picking up her box of cigarettes. “You’re right...about fifteen maybe sixteen years before she was born. I even helped build Cleo’s shop…” and she says it all in a low drawl, while your pussy drips, and you bite back a whimper. Your thighs clamp up, and her eyes flicker down, before looking back up.

“I don’t think...I need advice.” You grumble out, though your voice sounds cracked, and your breathing too calculated.

“No?” She asks, lighting her cigarette, “Your little girl must already have someone.” And at her words, your father’s head snaps to you in surprise.

“Do you?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “No. No, I just don’t have any interest in a relationship.”

“At all?” Your father asks, and your eyes flash to Sevika, her grin falling into a calm, lax face. There’s no expression on her face, but she’s taking her mechanical arm against her thigh, and the end of her cigarette glows.

Maybe Sevika isn’t the relationship type. Maybe she has no actual interest in someone who’s figuring herself out, in such a measured pace, it seems like you’re moving backwards. Maybe this is just...lust and a primal need to satisfy her. “I haven’t found anyone who likes me…for me.” You say with a small smile, and you shrug, “Maybe I’m just meant to be alone.”

Your father shakes his head, “Don’t even worry about that. I’ll take care of you, my firefly.” His words are slurred, and the can of beer in his hand holds nothing but air.

Sevika helps you put your father in his bed, but she doesn’t say anything for a long time as you both enter the room. She lingers around, hand shaking on her lap, and she looks at you with her eyebrows knitted together. “I like you.” You say, “This isn’t about...sex or needing to prove something. You’re a dedicated person, and loyal...your work with Silco doesn’t matter to me. I like you regardless...What I did was…” Your voice trails off, a lump building in your throat.

Sevika stands up, eyes trained on you, and she takes a step towards you, just near the edge of the bed, as you stand in front of the door. “Your father would never forgive me.”

You give her a dry laugh, “Is that what bothers you? The fact that he’s your best friend?”

There’s a low hum from the air that swirls around you both, cutting through the tension. The distant chirp of cicadas hurls in your ear, and you stand still for the longest, unsure if you’re about to pass out from the palpitation of your heart or the silence from her end. “We can forget about this…” and you swallow the lump in your throat and every trace of Sevika’s tongue on your mouth.

“I can’t…” Her tone is soft, and she takes another step until she’s right in front of you, and her arm quietly steams, hissing into the air.

“You can’t what? Forget about what we’ve done or the fact that my father is your best friend?”

You barely breathe, even when Sevika drops her head on your shoulder, knocking you back into the door. The smell of sandalwood and smoke lingers in her hair, and she’s breathing right in your ear, as if she’s been punched, each breath labored and pulled.

“Both...both,” she whispers, a second rushes by filled with nothing but your mingled breaths, until she pulls her head away, hands cupping your face. “But asking your father for forgiveness is easier than regretting not doing this.”

Sevika turns her head, pressing herself into you, lips attached to yours. There’s an odd sweetness mingled in it, not like the filthy one she had given you; this is something more than that. Something akin to love. Her metal arm slides to the small of your back, pulling you to her body, spurring a whine from your lips.

In the midst of her kissing you as if you’re about to disappear, you barely realise she’s maneuvering you away from the door, hauling you to her lap, while she sits on the bed. She nibbles on your lower lip, wetting your bottom lip, while her metal fingers press into your skin.

You follow her moments, whining sweetly into her mouth as her tongue finally opens yours. Sevika licks your tongue, then your molars, touching every inch, until the air in your lungs disappears. Sevika kisses you with urgency, “’m weak for you.” She gasps into you.

And you pull away for a second, admiring the greyness of her eyes, and the slight red blush on her cheeks, “Do you love me?”

Sevika nods, eagerly, chasing your lips for a second kiss. “I do...I do.” You mewl into her mouth, and she pushes you to the bed, never breaking the kiss. She suffocates you, laying her weight on you, while her knee presses between yours. She breaks away, peppering kisses along your cheek, slowly traveling down to your neck, licking at your sensitive skin.

Each touch has you hips jerking into the material of her jeans, pressing your clothed cunt into her thigh. Each drag is unbelievably sending heat through your stomach, pushing out tiny mewls and whimpers. It’s borderline embarrassing. The mere action of Sevika’s lips on your skin is enough to pull such needy and whiny sounds.

“Tried to keep away from you.” She murmurs, face pressed into the material of your shirt, and she bunches it up until she can freely kiss your belly, “...really tried.”

Sevika tugs your shorts off until your underwear comes into view. She takes a minute before pressing her face down, groaning, tongue darting to the indentation marking your cunt. A gasp rings in your ear, and she’s yanking you to the end of the bed, down on her knees while her hands slide to the back of your thighs.

Your belly swoops, while blood rushes through your ear, eyes lidded as Sevika licks you through the underwear, sucking your clothed clit with a groan. You can feel her flatten her tongue, slick mixing in with her saliva as she sucks and licks you. “Vika...feels good.”

She hums, finally pulling down your wet underwear, slick, connecting your pussy to it. You feel her hands on your thigh, metal fingers digging into your skin, and she kisses along the inside of your thigh. Teasing and teasing, while your cunt pulses and your skin prickles.

Tears prickle the corner of your eyes, and you blink them away as the slow rush of warmth drips around your senses. You suck in a deep, sharp breath when Sevika presses down, giving your clit a soft kiss. And she does it again, and again until you're twitching, fingers fisting the bed sheets. The ceiling appears and disappears in your vision, as a sudden ache makes your pussy drip. 

When Sevika finally licks your cunt, your body loses composure, and your foot softly kicks out. A loud moan leaves your lips, eyes fluttering as Sevika pulls your legs to her shoulders, nearly locking your ankles. “So good,” she slurs, parting your folds and licking from your sopping hole to your clit. 

She gives the swollen buds kitten licks, humming each time you moan, or your hips flex into her face. “fucckk,” You whimper, low and needy, “let...let me fu–fuck your face. Please, please.” And Sevika presses into your pussy, sucking on the swollen bud, breathing in your scent of skin and sweat. 

She wiggles her face for a second, fingers pressing your hip down, and a sudden fullness lingers in your lower belly. It’s soft and aching, making a squelch ring into the air. Her soft groan sends a vibration rippling through your body, finally pulling out a needy, choked sob from your system, and Sevika slides in another finger. 

She slides them in and out of your walls, making your back lift off the bed when she finally curls them, hitting a spongy spot that has you bucking into her. “Sev…sev,” You call out, name rushing out of your mouth like some sacred mantra over and over again. 

Your brain has turned into much, grinding back into her mouth, chasing the fuzzy that has curled around the edges of your brain. Drool slides down your chin, and tiny “ah ah ah” s rush from your mouth. Sevika fucks her tongue into you, curling her fingers, stroking at the spongy spot until it feels as though you’re about to pee on her. “Nnghh fuc–fuck, sev…’m close.” 

A shudder rushes through your body, heat swarming into your lower belly. Your hand flies to her hair, pushing her down, while your hips jolt down, moving to ride her face. Loud, high-pitched moans leave your lips, and Sevika savors your pussy, lapping like it’s her last meal. 

Her tongue suckles at the bud, and for a second, she pulls back, taking a deep breath. You look at her through lidded eyes, your mouth open in an “O” shape. She spits on your pussy, clear white string falling from her tongue, and she goes down again. She moans into you, and when her tongue flicks your clit, and you feel the faint rush of her teeth against the bud, you explode. 

Your back arches of the bed, muscles twitching, making the skin of your thigh move, involuntarily. Each second is filled with warmth that makes your body shudder, spurring fat tears until you’re streaming down your cheek. Your hips jolt in place, breasts bouncing with each movement while Sevika’s tongue flutters up and down. Your whimpers fall continuously, quiet gasps filling the room. 

When you finally come back from the high, Sevika is pressing soft kisses on your belly, chin wet, eyes lidded, and pupils blown. You can almost see your reflection in the black, swallowing her irises. “Want…” You whimper, trying to move your muscle, “want to…make you feel…god.”   

Your cunt is pulsing, slick, lubricating down the coarse hair and the inside of your thighs. Your fingers slide into Sevika’s hair, softly pulling her to your face. “Please,” you slur out, pressing a kiss to her. You can feel her smile against your lips. 

“My pretty girl,” She purrs, “C’mon then.” And she’s standing up, moving around her bag. Clothes still on. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, nearly vibrating, and you’re quick to take off your shirt, throwing it somewhere around the room. 

The room stills, and you’re nearly leaping off the bed as you watch Sevika shrug off her clothing and clasp a harness on her waist. Shimmer strap. God, Sevika is about to fuck you with a shimmer strap. You feel so fucking lightheaded it’s almost insane. The faux cock attached to it has smooth ridges; it begins to glow a soft purple, the color imitating even at the tiny slit on the cockhead. 

You pull off from the bed, while she adjusts herself, crawling to her on the floor, until she’s looking at you, a look of surprise on her face. You’re drunk off seeing her like this; above you, hair tusled and chest heaving up and down. “Open up for, daddy.”

You try to collect spit from your mouth, latching onto the cock, tongue, and feeling the soft, smooth ridges on the walls of your mouth. You suck, swallowing her down, hands on her thigh until your throat contracts and you pull away with a thick line of spit connecting you to the head. You’re greedy, a floaty feeling setting in the back of your mind. 

You push back, greedily sucking the underside of her cock, tonguing at the ridges until it beams purple, and a vibration rolls through Sevika. “Fuck…that’s it. That’s my girl.” She breathes, and you such on the shaft, licking up to the slit of her faux cock. A glob of purple glistens down from the slit, and you lick, tasting sweetness. 

The sensation of sevika in pleasure is intoxicating. You push down to the base of the cock, feeling the leather of the harness on your nose. Need and want rain on your body. You move back until the back of your head hits the wall, pulling Sevika with you, and you’re back swallowing her cock, and following your cheek, trying to force her to fuck your face. A choked groan leaves her lips, and you moan around her. 

You jerk back, staring up at Sevika, “Tck, is that all you got for daddy?” Sevika drawls, spit dribbles around the cock, mixed with the purple gleaming liquid. There's some on your fingers and your wet lips, mixing with your saliva. 

“Cum…cum on my face, please,” You whimper, “Please, daddy. Will you?” And Sevika’s eyes are staring at your own lidded ones, cheeks wet with tears, as you softly rock on the floor. 

She smiles, mean and cocky, “Go on then. Fuck your throat on daddy’s cock then.” Her hand yanks your face forward, shoving you down onto her cock, and it hits the back of your throat, until your hands are gripping her thighs. You scramble for purchase, tears streaming down, while spit dribbles, and breathing becomes secondary. 

Your head connects to the wall, thumping but not enough for pain to settle in your senses. She keeps you there, nose touching the coarse hair peeking from the harness. And your throat convulses around her cock, and slick pours from your pussy onto the floor. The heat of your mouth draws a moan from her, and your vision turns blurry with tears; the feeling of serenity washes over your body, turning you lax and dizzy. 

Sevika groans, loud and high-pitched, and she pulls her cock off, giving you a second before you’re chasing after it, panting like some dog in heat. A shudder rolls around you, and your tongue is slick with spit and shimmer. “Need,” You mewl out, sobbing into the air, as Sevika holds you back from her cock.

“C’mon, baby, behave.” She says, voice craking with a groan. 

“Please,” You slur, the words filled with need, as you chase after her, fingers into her thighs, and you lean forward, lapping at the tip. “Need it…n–need it.”

The cock twitches, and Sevika’s pushing it on your face, smearing shimmer and spit on your tear-streaked skin, “Need what,  baby?”

“You…need you.” Your words are barely audible, slurred and needy, “fuck me. Fuck me. Plea–please, use me…use me.”

“On the bed, baby.”

You scramble from the floor, whining as you pull away from her cock. Your knees scrape against the cold floor, wobbling with each step until you’re on your back, opening yourself for her. It’s filthy, the way you reach behind your legs, trying to pull your folds apart. 

Goosebumps erupt along your flesh, and she’s pulling your legs apart, holding you just halfway. Spit dribbles from her mouth down to your pussy, mixing with the shimmer of her cock. The shaft touches your cunt, gliding up and down your pussy, slowly rolling her hips, forcing a broken moan from your throat. 

You whimper as the head pumps into your clit, and your pussy flutters pathetically, the feeling of emptiness making you hiccup. She fucks into the swollen bud, bumping against it, while you try to take a deep breath, loins burning with need. “Ins–inside…” You breathe out, choked and whiny, “Daddy, inside…c’mon pleaseplease.”

Sevika stares at you like you were made for her–made to take her cock. She leans into you, swallowing your needy gasps, and pushing her tongue inside your mouth, and she likes your mouth open, her cock pushes inside. She pushes inside, halfway in, letting you sob into her mouth, before thrusting all in, swallowing your choked sob.

Your back arches off the bed, toes spreading out, while your nails scramble to grip her shoulders. The sensation of fullness makes your pussy flutter violently around her cock, and she’s moaning into your mouth, before pulling down, and pushing back inside, rushing through your walls. Your nails dig, and dig until you’re sure blood has somehow crossed above the surface. 

“Da–daddy,” You sob, body pinned to the bed, while the bed softly squeaks under the weight.

“What’s wrong…” Sevika hums mokinly, hips jerking back, until half of her cock is inside you, “Is daddy too rough? You begged for this, baby.”

The sheer feeling of her inside you makes your head spin. Your hip involuntarily jerks because you can almost feel how Sevika’s cock has stretched you. You squirm in place, and white-hot pleasure crushes you, as Sevika sinks her cock inside–in and out, rubbing along your walls, while a nasty, obscene squelch bounces around the walls of the cabin. 

She pulls back from your body, slowing down as she plants her on the floor, hitting one of your legs on her shoulder. You catch your breath, until she begins to move, the sudden, hurried pace, making you mewl. A ragged moan tears from Sevika’s throat as your mouth falls open, eyes crossing from the pleasure. 

“Just loud and messy for me. Is this how you wanted me to fuck you? Or do you need an audience?” Sevika rocks her hips forward, watching her cock disappear, while shimmer and your pussy juice makes an obscene ring on the base of the toy. “Bend you over the poker table, and make your friend watch your pussy open for me.”

A loud squeal rips from your throat because her filthy words and the press of her thumb on your clit, have you swimming. You nod, dumbly and with need. “Want–wanted you to fuck me…while they watched.” Each word is choked out, in rhythm with Sevika’s brutal thrusts. 

Her hips move, just enough to press deeper into you, and her thigh slaps against the cleft of your ass, “Greedy…” The sharp drill of pain against your spine is sudden. A smack on top of clit that has your pussy convulsing. It rips a wet sob from your lips, and her hands smack down again on the side of your thigh. “Say you're mine.” Each word is punched into your with a roll of her hips. 

You nod, tears falling down your clumped lashes, and you swallow down, “‘m yours”. The words ring in satisfaction, while Sevika’s hips snap faster, burying herself inside with a sharp groan. The faux cock twitches inside your walls, hitting that sweet spot. “‘m yours.”

“Atta girl,” And your stomach flips, nails curling into the bedsheets, while your belly swoops with heat. You’re dizzy, pulse beating violently under your skin, nearly making your bones rattle. “Gonna make you feel good…like I promised.”

Her words punch a broken noise from your throat, and she grinds the cock deeper with a wet, loud sound. Each roll pushes you forward, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your hips roll down, chasing Sevika’s cock with urgency, as your pussy aches, clit twitching with each jolt. “Cum…cum inside me… yours…wanna feel full, please–”

Her smile widens, a mocking grin on her face, “Should I? What am I going to say to your father when your belly starts to grow?” 

Oh god.

The bed squeaks again, and your pussy gushes around her cock. The feeling of warmth rolling down your body, making your thighs jerk, while a broken whimper falls. A pulsing feeling curls in your pussy, as Sevika continues to ram inside you, forcing blood to rush through your ears, and for a second, the world stills, silence falling in your ear. 

Your body jolts, and she’s ramming inside, forcing you to ride out your orgasm. You barely notice her open mouth, until you feel so so fucking full, you’re convinced your belly will burst. The fat tip of her cock, slams inside once more, and she gushes inside. “‘m yours,” you slur out, body still feeling as if you’re on top of a fluffy cloud. You say the words again, though they come out broken and unintelligible.

 Sevika leans down, with a groan, tongue scraping the shell of your ear, hip rolling once more, making you whimper. “Going to take you home with me…gonna tell your father you belong to me, want that, my pretty pet?” Her tongue licks your wet face, tasting the salt of your tears. “You don’t have a choice anyway.”

Warmth pools in your lower belly, and a broken moan settles from your lips. “Nngg–”

“Shh, it’s okay, ‘m going to take care of you.”

And you nod dumbly, brain still mushy and fried, too gone to think, beyond, “more, fuck me more, need, need”. You can feel when the shimmer drips from your pussy to the bed, pushing past Sevika’s cock. You can even feel when she pulls out with a wet sound, and when she spits on your pussy and pushes the shimmer back inside, two fingers digging into your swollen, abused cunt.

But you don’t feel when you fall asleep. Sevika cleans you up, taking you inside the shower, wetting every inch of you while you snore and softly twitch. She soaps up every crevice of your body, washing it away, then washing the shimmer from inside you.

Impulse rushes through her, and she thumbs at your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles around the bud, watching you give her soft whimpers. “Pretty.” When she carried you back to the bed, she dried you up, then washed herself. She doesn’t even dress you; she simply slips into some shorts and pulls you to her body. 

You wake up not from the brightness of the sun softly spilling inside the room, or by the chirp of the birds outside the cabin room. It’s by the pressure between your legs. When your eyes flutter awake, pleasure creeps through your tummy, and you’re on your back, while Sevika’s leg is hooked over yours and her pussy is pressed against yours. 

A whimper is spurred from your lips. “Sev..”

Her eyes flutter open, and she’s quick to clasp a hand over your mouth. “Don’t.” She breathes out, “How does it feel? Wanted to see how you felt when you used me to get off…”

You lie back down, while she bucks into your pussy, clit rubbing against hers, and you’re nearly passing out from the wetness that rushes to your ears. The orgasm that rolls through you is sudden and rushed, like it had been building all night. Your pussy pulses against her until she’s biting down on her lower lip, and she’s pushing down, making your foot kick. 

She stops, a grin settling on her face, as she falls next to you, hand on your twitching thigh. “You feel good?” You whisper to her. 

“Not as good as last night.” Your cheeks burn at her words, and you’re quick to turn and hide your face despite her rushing to hold you. Sevika presses behind your body, nuzzling her face into your neck. “C’mon, princess, you need to accompany daddy to greet your father.”

You shake your head, “Perv.”

A meek slap lands on your thigh, not hard enough to sting, just playful. “Up.”

The bathroom faucet rings in the bathroom while you brush your teeth. Sevika picks out your clothing and then hops inside when you’re finished. It’s around ten in the morning, when you both come out, and your father is already outside grilling breakfast. He doesn’t say anything when you both come out. 

He doesn’t even look you in the eyes, not until he’s handing you and Sevika a plate. “You know….I’ve been thinking about putting some kind of soundproof technology inside my room.”

“Oh god.”

mdni | content: boot worship, leather kink, dry humping, vaginal sex, face-sitting, dom/sub play, stomach stepping, subspace, dacryphilia, perversion, sadomasochism, gloves, mommy kink, light verbal degradation, strapping, 'strap' blowjob. vaginal sex, cunnilingus, mild impact play Pairing: Racer mechanic Sevika x reader a/n: Please read: I am not a lesbian, but I do love women (nearly more than I like sleeping). In this fic, there's something called a 'packer' that is used by Sevika, because I found out about it, and it looks super cool. this fic is 10.k words...holy shit Honestly, if a buff butch wore leather boots around me with a belt buckle strapped to it, I would ALSO be asking to get stepped on. This was a self-indulgent fic after I watched Pillion. Additionally, this is a remastered work from a past fic for another fandom. if you're someone who wears a packer, please shoot me dm cause im very nosy and i love to ask question.

You never expected the outcome of seeing Sevika in leather boots to be sex. In hindsight, you also didn’t expect to develop some sort of obsession with the shoes. It was a random Friday night, and Vi had invited Sevika to race. You had gone countless times, and at first, you were waiting for Sevika to fuss and ask you to go, until Caitlyn called.

“Are you not going with Vi?” You asked, sketching out an outline of Sevika’s back muscle.

She sighed, “No. I’m mad at her right now…if I go, I’ll forget why I’m mad and end up bent over somewhere around the racetrack.”

You shrugged, “If you say so.” So you didn’t exactly pay attention to Sevika until she came out, and the click-clack sound of her shoes made you turn around.

You first noticed that Sevika’s hair was a mess, and that she was wearing a black leather jacket, with washed-out black jeans, and leather boots. High-heeled, leather cowboy boots with a silver buckled O-ring harness, and attached to the ring a set of silver chains that lap around the boot, disappearing under it.

So maybe your heart paused at the sight of the chains and the harness. Maybe your cunt twitched, and saliva got stuck in your throat, unable to give your girlfriend, who twirled for you, a nice compliment.

“Princess?” Sevika said, staring at you, holding her black helmet in one hand.

You swallowed thickly and gave her a soft smile, “You look good.”

Sevika smiled, looking down at her boots with pride. She took a couple of steps towards you, and the sound of the chains moving made you shudder. “They look nice, don’t they?”

You nodded, “They look cool. Nice chains.” When Sevika leaves, you couldn’t seem to move from the couch. It’s as if the air in your lungs had been stolen, and your ability to walk somehow diminished.

Yet all you could think about was those boots and how slick they looked. The way a soft clink followed with each step. The way the leather looked so soft and so rough, like it could glide off your skin. How snug they fit on Sevika.

So you did begin to wonder how good it would feel to drag your cunt along the material, or hump it while Sevika praised you or told you off for using her boots to get off. Maybe it would be even better if she would step on your stomach, heels dragging down all the way to your cunt until Sevika puts enough pressure on your clit, it pains you.

Maybe you’re fucking insane.

Maybe.

Since looking at the boots, you have spent hours searching for leather boot care. A soft-bristle brush to avoid scratching the leather. Typical leather cleaner, placing it on a damp cloth, and making a light lather, then moving it across the entire surface of the boots in small circular motions. Until it’s back into that slick, clean, and glossy state.

Leather Honey Leather Cleaner. MEKER Mink oil, saddle soap, Tanner’s preserve, Leather Cleaner. Because Sevika seems to enjoy the American brands more.

You spend HOURS researching names, until you get to a video, and all you can think about is Sevika wearing them and parading them for you. When Sevika finishes her work, she cleans her boot.

Right next to you.

Her long, strong fingers lace around the boot, inspecting it. She touches it with care, and the smell of the leather soap has you pausing–leather, citrus, and musk. The combination has your head feeling dizzy.

She wipes the silver chain down, and a phantom feeling of coldness rushes down your spine. Would they touch her nipples while Sevika steps on you? How cold would they feel? Do they smell like leather, too?

You look away, though your phone somehow begins to record, Sevika’s work on the boot, until she stops and looks at you, head tilting at your phone. “Are you recording?” Sevika asks, cleaning her hands with a rag.

You freeze, “No. Am I?” You look down at your phone absentmindedly, “Oh, I must’ve pressed it by accident.”

Sevika’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t question it. She merely slides her body to you, smelling of leather, citrus, and wood. You swallow, nosing Sevika’s throat, placing a small kiss on her jugular vein.

She hums, ducking down to catch your lips into a heated kiss. Sevika licks your mouth open, each lap laced with greed and a feverish need to ravage you. Your lips stay connected until you pull back, panting with fingers attached to her biceps. “Why’d you decorate them?”

Sevika’s eyebrows knit together, “Huh?”

“The boots.”

The older woman chuckles, giving you a shrug, before leaning in to kiss you again. Yet you’re adamant, a hand plastered on Sevika’s chest until she gives the answer you want. The answer you need. You feel sick.

Sevika doesn’t even know why you’re asking, and she whines, “I don’t know, I wanted to try a different style, so I got them customized.”

You move your hand, allowing Sevika to trap you on the couch. She swallows every little sigh and whine she pulls from you, sucking on your pink tongue until your hips are grazing. “In-person?” You breathe out as Sevika presses kisses on the side of your neck.

A hum rings from her throat, hips pressing down until she’s got her knee pressed just right onto your clothed cunt. “Thought about getting combat ones, but these are better. The leather is smooth, and it doesn’t take long to clean.”

The leather is smooth.

You whimpers into the open, pushing Sevika’s hip down, bucking your own hip into her knee until you’re practically using Sevika’s body to get yourself off. “That’s it, princess, take what you need.”

Sevika coos at you, suckling on your skin. The sentence rings in your head while your cunt leaks, dampening your panties.

“Kiss.” You whine.

The leather is smooth.

The leather is smooth.

Sevika laps over every crevice in your mouth, groaning into you, while the drag of her knee along makes your body shudder with pleasure. The room is silent save for your heavy breathing and the wet sound of your mouths slotted together.

Your cunt flutters, and as your stomach contracts, Sevika groans, “The chains are detachable, can even attach them to the front of the boots.”

Your body goes rigid. A high-pitched whimper rips from your throat, while a flash of heat makes your body feel feverish and calm. You cums with a wet gasp, nails digging into Sevika’s shoulder, while the older woman nuzzles her face into your neck.

Oh god.

You came.

You came from grinding on her.

Sevika doesn’t stop pushing down on you, even when your feet dig into the couch, and you’re so close to crying from the sharp pain shooting down her spine. When Sevika cums, she groans into your ears, pulling you for another kiss that ends with your lips wet and swollen.

Your body relaxes when Sevika doesn’t mention anything about the leather. Instead, she scoops you up and takes you into the bathroom for a hot bath, and talks about her customers, and how tired she is of waking up so early.

Sevika is gone by the time you wake up. By eleven in the morning, you have showered and eaten breakfast. Mr. Vander, your cat has a babysitting weekend with your parents; you can only lounge around and finish prior commission requests.

That was your plan anyway, before you saw the clean boots outside the closet. You did not realize that Sevika had left the boots outside until you were on your way to the bathroom and saw them lying there, the sun shining upon them. You didn’t think twice about sinking to your knees and grabbing one of the boots.

You should have, but you didn’t.

You strip on the floor, piece by piece, until they’re discarded around you. You stare at the boots, pussy throbbing, while your skin prickles and goosebumps cover your arms. You stay still for a minute before reaching out to the boots.

The glide of your fingertips against the cool material pulls a wet gasp from you. The boot slides pressing against your pussy, and the first drag has slick pouring from your cunt. Your pussy grinds against the leather, and with each roll, the chain jingles, making you shudder.

You build a slow rhythm, allowing the pleasure to build in your stomach, until you feel close to crying. You picture Sevika above you, smirking at you with that knowing smile. “What a desperate thing you are, Princess.”

You imagine Sevika saying in that low, raspy voice, “Humping my boots like my cunt isn’t enough.” You moan, throaty and high-pitched, finger gripping the top of the boot so you can grind your clit on it.

You feel utterly filthy seeing the drenched and warm leather of Sevika’s boats. You grunt into it, pushing your hip down until your stomach hits the cold metal of the buckle. Your stomach contracts, and the simple thought of the same coldness against your nipples with the constant stimulation is enough to have you coming on the leather, drool sliding from the side of your mouth.

Your body rides out the tiny waves of pleasure, gasping into the air until your body goes lax, dropping to the side. How indecent and disgusting you are. But you clean the boots.

Thoroughly. Even as you’re shaking while the smell of leather and musk engulfs your senses, you clean the boots, rubbing the dried cum from the top. Then showers again, scrubbing your skin until you’re sure you fucked up the outermost layer of your skin. You try not to think about it.

Not until Sevika texts you in the late afternoon. “Get ready around four, we’ll be going to the store. I need something.”

Sevika picks you up in the slick red car and drives you to some shop. You don’t realize what the shop is until you’re inside, and the dim lighting casts a soft glow on the myriad of boots displayed on the wall. Your breath hitches for a second as Sevika pulls you around.

You stop in the back, just hidden away from the customers. Sevika picks one up, fingers gliding across the material, then she puts it down. She does the same to two more until she touches a leather one with two golden guns etched into a silver toe tip, and black floral embroidery around it.

Sevika touches the chunky heels and then gives them to you, who stares mindlessly at them. She circles you until one finger is perched on the small of your back, breath hitting the shell of your ear, while one hand is on your waist, thumb rubbing circles on your hip. “How’s the material? Touch it.”

She guides your fingers along the embroidery, feeling the rough ridges on your flesh. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Each word makes you shudder, until Sevika presses a kiss on your neck, “Maybe I’ll add a metal chain buckle. You want to put them on, Princess?” Sevika asks, pressing another kiss on your neck.

You mindlessly shakes her head, finger still moving along the floral embroidery, taking shallow breaths. Would they feel exactly like the ones Sevika has at home? Would the embroidery feel rough against your pussy? Would the silver tip catch on the skin of your clit, until your skin feels like it’s on fire?

“Or would you like me to wear them for you?”

Oh

Oh

Your body goes still, dropping the boots. You take a deep breath, scattering to grab it and shove it at Sevika. The second your fingertips brush, fire spreads across your spine, and you don’t look at the older woman, because you know you’ll stutter and look away from her eyes.

“I…I’ll go outside for some air…the bathroom.” Each step you take is followed by Sevika, calling your name out.

The sun blares against your face, making you squint. You don’t make it to the street because Sevika’s hand is suddenly on your wrist, pulling you into a bathroom. You cup the front of your pants, staring at her feet.

Your jeans feel too tight, and the material of your shirt seems too scratchy against your skin. Your stomach is on fire, and every brush against your flesh feels feverishly good. You calculate your words, waiting for Sevika to look at you with scrutiny, “Are we done shopping…I need to work on something.”

“Do you?” Sevika muses, trapping you in the corner of the bathroom.

It smells of disinfectant and bleach, though there’s a roll of paper in the corner of the bathroom. The sound of the door being shaken makes Sevika snarl. “Occupied. Fuck off.” You could get in trouble for this.

You have never been one to care for others’ opinions, but when it comes to Caitlyn, Jinx, and Sevika, your body seems to shrink into a self-aware state. Like you need to know if they’re pleased with you or not. “Don’t you think it’s odd?” Sevika kisses the top of your head, pushing it up, until she’s staring into your eyes.

Sevika doesn’t say anything; she only leans in, pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, then on your cheek and forehead, humming with content.

“Odd is irrelevant, Princess. I’d give anything to still be with you, even if you carried Vander everywhere, cooked everything on high heat…or had an affinity for my leather boots.” You chew on your lip, though Sevika’s thumb quickly caresses them, pulling them from your teeth.

“Can I see you wear them?” Your question is soft, oh so soft that it comes out as a murmur, only for Sevika’s ears.

Sevika groans, catching your lips into a feverish kiss, suckling your lips until you’re sure they’ll swell in the morning. Each lap of Sevika’s tongue in your mouth has you whining and gasping, pushing your hip until they’re hitting Sevika’s.

“Want to…” You inhale, chasing after Sevika’s lips for another second, stealing the air from her lungs, because if anything, Sevika’s very being has begun to mold into yours. One is not complete without the other. “Need to have…have you in my mouth.”

You drop to your knees, a sliver of pain shooting through your body as you fall on the marble floor. You take a deep breath, hands coming up to wrap around Sevika’s calf, pulling her until you can smell the stench of disinfectant and oil from the ship oozing from her black slacks. “Mommy.”

“The floor,” exhales Sevika, fingers gliding to her belt until it’s open, and the sound of her zipper coming down has you panting for it. “It’s dirty, princess. Do you really…” The question dies in her throat as she watches you part her mouth.

Her breath hitches as your big, glossy eyes stare at her through your lashes. You pull down her boxers, and you nearly giggle seeing the packer attached to her. The faux cock blends into her skin, though you know it’s harnessed around her waist. You don’t wait, sanity already slipping little by little, and slides inside your warm mouth.

On your knees, your chest tightens, and everything feels so good and mushy. Your body is warm, nose connecting with Sevika’s pelvis; all he can smell is sweat, wood, and leather. “Go on, my little dove,” Sevika commands, gripping a bundle of You’s hair.

A rush of dopamine has your jaw slacking, throat expanding, until you’re trying to give the packer’s shaft, desperate licks. Your tiny, needy whimpers and moans have Sevika taking forceful, steady breaths, inhaling from her nose. Each lick and suck has the packer pressing your right into her clit, and slick pours of her cunt watching you turn into a mess.

You buck into the air, tears prickling in the corner of her eyes, trying to chase an ounce of relief from anything. You gag for a second, and Sevika pulls away. Thick globs of spit connect your swollen lips to Sevika’s glistening faux cock, and she inspects your face. “Had enough, Princess.”

You shake your head, head cloudy with need. Desperation laces around your veins, “Need…ne–need more, please. Mommy, plea–please.”

Her fingers grip the base, pushing it on your cheek, bucking against your flesh. It’s filthy. The way your tongue darts out to reach for her shaft, sucking on it while you try to pull Sevika back into your mouth. Sevika’s shoes dart to your knees, kicking them softly until you’re seated on her shoe.

Devoted is not enough to describe the way Sevika feels about you. Words fail to capture the agonizing way her spine curls, and her chest tightens at the mere sight of you in all forms.

In pain. In pleasure. Sad. Happy.

If you leave her, she will hunt you down and bury you together. Sevika slides back into your mouth, grinding into your mouth, while her clit grinds into the packer, heat curling in her spine. Your cunt bucks into her shoes, clit pressed right into the rough part of the jeans, making spit pool in your mouth.

And Sevika focuses on the feeling of pleasure, pushing your head back into the wall, and using your mouth to buck into the packer. Her tight moans ring in your ear, “Fuck. So pretty, made for choking on my cunt.”

Spit pool on the side of your mouth, dripping down, and each moan sent a tiny vibration across Sevika’s spine until her rapid thrusts abuse the back of your throat, forcing you to take sharp breaths through your nose. Your lungs feel on fire, and breathing becomes secondary, with each drag of Sevika’s movement in your mouth.

Sevika’s body shudders, and when she pushes all the way back into your throat, making your head violently connect with the wall of the bathroom, Sevika hits your uvula again, pushing the tip of her shoe up. “Cum now, and I’ll step on you.”

Your eyes roll back, taking one last inhale before you’re writhing on her boot, hips twitching wildly against the material. Sevika groans, body shaking as her orgasm ripples through her body. You savor the weight of the silicone in your mouth, chasing your orgasm. Eyes glazed, pupils blown with damp, clumped lashes and whiny moans falling from your lips.

A heavenly sight. Sevika lets you hump her down until you’re softly, softly shaking, pulling off, and panting, looking up at her. “Mommy, plea–mommy, mommy…feels good so–” You hiccup, a sharp sob falling from your plush, spit-covered lips.

“My pretty dove, you did so so fucking good for me,” Sevika coos, leaning down to taste your tongue. She coaxes deep, shallow breaths out of your lungs, raking her nails on your back, until you’re calm and your brain can process, Sevika pulling you up.

“Mommy,” You whine, hand coming down to the front of your jeans, “Wet.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Sevika responds, picking you up and wrapping your legs around her waist. “Going to take you home, now.”

“And the boots?”

“I already bought one. It’s in the car, baby. I’ll show you if you behave.” She says, humming against your air. “Understand?”

You nod, nuzzling your face in Sevika’s neck. The sun has slowed itself into the earth’s horizon, casting a soft yellow glow along the sky, with light purple clouds. There’s no longer a myriad of cars around the shop, and no one pays attention to Sevika carrying a rather tired adult in her arms.

She drives home, hands gripping the side of your thigh, while you ride out that soft and plaint headspace. The kind that allows Sevika to maneuver you on her knees, until you’re crying and begging her fuck you full, to pinch your nipples, and be so so mean.

Sevika scoops you up again in her arms while carrying a black bag in one hand. When you’re inside the apartment, she places you on the bed, shedding off her clothing and the packer, while sneaking glances at you. You look at her through lidded eyes, and she comes over, stripping your jeans and shirt until you’re left in your underwear.

It’s marked with a dark stain, and when Sevika slides them down, suppressing a smile as she glides her thumb up and down your soaked folds. You whimper, and she stops, placing a rough hand on your stomach, simply grounding. “How do you feel, dove?”

You nod, “Good. Really good, mommy.”

Sevika doesn’t move. “Want me to put the boots on?” You could stop. But she so desperately wants to give you what you need. What you want. She wants it to be good for you.

“Please,” You whine, “Step on…on me, Phi. Need…to feel it.” Your words come out jumbled, and yet somehow coherent enough that Sevika’s heart pauses.

Step on me.

Sevika maneuvers to the boots. The new. Clean and pristine. Once she feels comfortable, she leans into the closet, softly pressing against the cold of the wall, against her warm skin.

“Come ‘ere, pretty thing.” You crawl to her. Sliding down from the bed, pussy glistening with sweat, coating your inner thigh with each movement of your limb.

You sigh against the air, knees hitting the cold floor. Your skin is on fire, tingling with phantom pleasure. “On your back.” You softly fall back, a wet gasp falling from your lips.

You squirm with each passing second of silence until Sevika kicks your legs apart with her foot. Obediently, you spread her legs apart, cunt throbbing at the feel of the leather against your skin.

A whimper escapes your lips as Sevika’s foot raises, the tip of the shoe dragging against your pussy, just gliding through the folds. “Mommy,” you sob out, sniffling, trying to keep your twitching hands at bay.

“Behave, princess.” Sevika commands, gliding the boot to your stomach. She hovers it over you, allowing you to see the chains slamming into each other. Your throat bobs, and as the boot comes down, you moan.

Whiny and choked, like when Sevika stretched you out on her fingers. The cold metal of the chains makes you gasp, hip thrusting into the air. Your thighs and the crease of your ass are soaked, slick, dripping out of you obscenely. The springs in your stomach tighten, eyes becoming blurry as you writhes in place.

Sevika adds a subtle degree of pressure on your ribs, pulling a loud, filthy gasp from your throat, and for a second, he’s sure you can come untouched just by the feel of her boot. “Har-harder,” you stutter out, fingers itching to push the boots into your ribs and stomach until your body caves into itself.

The boots slide to your hard nipples, and the hard peaks slide across the smooth bottom, as fat tears slide from your glossy brown eyes, as the chains slide around your flesh. Your jaw goes slack, tiny whimpers sliding from your throat. The coils in your stomach feel as though they’ll snap at any second.

A shuttering wave of fire crawls around your stomach until you feel too warm to move. Sevika slides the boots down to your pussy, finally pressing down on your clit. “Mommy,” You gasp, hot tears rolling down your cheeks, “I’m goi…going to cu–”

The sharp pressure of the boot disappearing from your skin makes you shake. Another sob falls from your lips. Sevika deeply inhales, her body feeling as though she’s astral projecting around the room. Her head feels dizzy, watching you be reduced to nothing but a crying, whimpering mess, begging for her boot.

“You’ll cum on my fingers, my cunt, or not at all.” You meekly whine, allowing Sevika to steer you upright by your armpit and drag you to the bed.

You fall with a soft thump, and Sevika is on you, teeth tracing your neck, peppering kisses, and sucking on the flesh. She should take her time, but the need to make you cry harder has her delirious.

“It’s okay, my pretty girl,” She whispers into your ear, licking the shell of your flesh, “You’re going to open your mouth for mommy, and make me feel good, right?”

Your head bobs dumbly before you can even register her request. It’s only when she crawls to your face, coarse hair draped all over her pussy, hovering over your face, that you finally understand. Your mouth opens involuntarily, tongue out, wishing that even the smallest drop of her arousal falls into your tongue. “Please–”

“Shh,” Sevika says softly, “Be good and stay down.”

When Sevika finally sits on your face, your belly swoops. Your hips jolt into the air, and she’s angling her hips while your tongue darts to her sopping hole, licking from it to your clit. A moan falls, ringing in your ear, and you’re unsure of whose making noises, you or her.

It’s a mesh of spit and Sevika’s own arousal as she rides your face. And you revel in it, suckling on her big, puffy clit, nearly sobbing because your pussy aches, and her whispering pretty, and filthy things into the air isn’t helping you.

“Fuckkk, tongue out baby,” She snarls, pushing all her weight on your face, while you suffocate in the sweet scent of her musk and sweat. You lie there, twitching for her until she bucks into your tongue, a slap coming down on your clit, making your legs fall open. “Atta girl.”

When Sevika gets off you, you’re dizzily staring at the ceiling, muscles twitching while tears and slick cover your face. A wet wipe runs across your face, and she’s staring you through a smirk, “Use your words, baby.”

“Hurts…want to cum, please.”

“Need to prep you, sweetheart.”

“Need it..can take it,” you moan, as her tongue laps at your pretty nipples, “Mommy, ple-please. Fuck me, fuckme.”

If Sevika could satisfy each and every one of your fantasies, she’d make her job. Day and night, allowing you to use her for your own pleasure, until her clit twitched at the mere mention of your name.

You knit your eyebrows together, begging, Sevika, to fuck you. And she smiles, rushing out of bed, hands gliding over the closet until she’s pulling a fat purple dildo and strapping a harness around her waist. She watches you, shakily bringing up your knees to your chest, hands traveling to open your pussy for Sevika, muscles tightening against nothing.

Sevika spits on the hole, and she fetches a bottle of lube, dropping a glob on your cunt, using her finger to coat you in it, while you watch with her, bottom lip etched in between your teeth. Pure heaven, staring at her with dilated pupils, silently begging to be mounted.

Sevika sinks in inch by inch, slowly, while your belly contracts, tight gasps filling the air. You feel so full, and with every inch, it’s as though Sevika will split you open. You scrabble to hold onto Sevika’s wrist, while her fingers grip onto your waist, and her nails dig into your soft skin. “So…fucking tight.”

It takes a minute for the dildo to disappear into your body. Twinges of pain eat at your lower spine, until it fizzes out, little by little. Sevika takes a deep breath, eyes shut, trying to keep her clit from twitching at the sight of you so fucking pretty and needy.

You whine for her to move, and the older woman obliges, slowly rolling her hip, until she pulls halfway in, then snaps all in. You choke on air, pussy clenching down, while your back caves into the bed. Heat pools in your lower back, and you’re scrabbling to grip onto the bed sheets as Sevika pulls out and slams back in, setting a merciless rhythm, abusing that spongy spot.

Each thrust drags along your walls, thick thighs slapping against the cleft of your ass, smacking against your lubed cheeks until it sounds as though your pussy is talking to her. A quick tremor runs through your legs, pulling high-pitched sobs and whimpers.

“Mommy,” you wail, tears sliding down relentlessly. “I—Please. Mommy, ah—let…let me cum.” Each thrust makes your mind into mush, the next one rougher and faster, until you can only curl your toes and sob, salty, hot tears coating your cheeks and lips.

Sevika smiles, hair all over her face, while she fucks into you, groaning every time, she rushes down and a jolt of vibration flutters into her clit. “Barely started fucking you, and here you are… screaming to cum.”

She groans, pulling your waist from the bed. “What a needy slut.” Sevika slams into the spot, every time, reaching for your hardened peaks with one hand while keeping your waist from falling to the bed.

She flicks the bud, pinching and pulling it, trying to milk them. You give her a choked sob, scrabbling to breathe and pull away from Sevika’s cock. “Too mu—much.” You’re being fucked within an inch of your life, body trying to accommodate the pleasure from your chest and pussy.

Your brain feels too foggy to think or tell Sevika you’re going to cum. Your stomach draws tight, and you moan, feeling the swarming warmth of your impending peak curl around your body. Sevika lets your waist drop into the bed, cock still plunged inside, and she hitches you down the bed, getting on it and spreading herself, as she pushes your knees all the way to your chest, making your spine curl up.

She’s mounting you with such intoxicating strength. “My pretty girl. Too cunt-dumb to speak.” The new angle breaks you, and you come with a shriek, hot tears leaving your face wet and pretty. You sniffle into the air, taking deep breaths while Sevika leans down to lick the salty tears.

She groans against your cheek, leaning down to kiss you again, and you melt into it, pussy tightening around the dildo as she keeps fucking you. Her pace slows down, though each drag draws tiny tears from your system, making you writhe into Sevika’s mouth, too dumb to follow Sevika’s lead while she sucks and twirls her tongue.

Sevika chases her own release, thrusting her cock with ferocity, keeping you in a state of overstimulation, pussy wet and softly twitching. Sevika bites your tongue, weight pressing into her legs, as she comes, with a groan, using your body to ride out her own orgasm.

When Sevika pulls away, your face twists in pain and pleasure, tongue lolling in the side of your mouth, face wet, and pupils dilated. And she could easily take off the harness…could…instead she uses the fat top of the eat to knock into your clit, dragging it up the swollen nerve, until you’re arching, aching, hole twitching against nothing.

You sniffle and hiccup pussy swollen and nearly gaped, clenching at nothing, while Sevika watches. She’s so tempted to take a picture and save it along with the other ones, but instead, she uncaps the warm water bottle, forcing your head up.

Time flows by slowly, in small measures, while Sevika holds the water for you, until you finish and scoops you up, taking small steps while her thigh twitches. You hum, taking small breaths, as warm water hits your sweaty skin.

Sevika slides behind you, enveloping you in her body heat, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head. “Princess?” You haven’t dozed off, you’re just there, staring at the water rushing from the faucet, soft steam oozing from it.

You move your head along Sevika’s chest, head still fuzzy, and she massages your muscles until you come back to her. You feel your face heat turn warm as a soft sting presses onto your muscles, and the phantom sensation of the boots’ heels pressing on your stomach, curls against your spine.

“You back with me, baby?” Sevika whispers, rubbing circles along your shoulders, “Feeling okay? Was the…stepping okay?”

You slowly turn, placing your wet chin on Sevika’s chest. Your muscles feel heavy, softly aching with each small movement. “It was really good. How did you know?”

“You’re not the type to ask questions when we’re humping like dogs.” She responds, laughing, all condescending and prideful. “Knew something was up when you asked about them.”

“Did you like it?” Sevika nods, a blush spreading across her face, “Maybe next time, I’ll wear my racetrack suit.”

“The red and black one?” You ask, staring at her with lidded eyes, leaning down to place a kiss on Sevika’s chest, tongue darting to lick her pebbled nipples. “Knew you liked that one, you little minx.”

The promise of the leather track suit turned into simply that. A promise. With how busy Sevika was with the mechanic shop, and your own side quests, along with looking for a job, the promise dissolved into the wind. And soon enough, it was forgotten. Neither of you complained about it, though it wasn’t like you were counting on it.

Well…a small part of you was.

The promise of the leather track suit had begun to mold itself into a recurring fantasy harassing you, in the middle of sex, when Sevika was at work, and you got so lonely, you could only rub yourself against the older woman’s old boots. But those were only for lonely days, though the boot obsession did nudge itself into your sex life, and your masturbation habits.

Once you were given the green light to hump Sevika’s boots while Sevika wore them, like some dog in heat, it became an obsession to see Sevika wearing them. Somehow, the idea of boots became ‘Sevika wearing the boots’ rather than the shoes themselves.

So the idea of Sevika in a leather racing suit, wearing racing boots, makes you slip into that fuzzy, bubbly headspace. But again, the promise of the racing suit becomes a mere slip of the tongue, at least to you anyway.

“Are we supposed to wear specific colors to cheer for Sev and Vi?” Asks Jinx, fixing her hair in the long mirror in your living room.

Caitlyn shrugs, “I don’t know. I’m not changing again.”

Jinx touches her fae, and a depleted pout makes her lean into the couch, looking over at you. “Are you wearing blue?”

You shake your head, “Red.”

Jinx is wearing leather shorts that cling to her waist, black high-top Converse, paired with a dark blue graphic t-shirt, and an old vintage Suzuki race jacket. Ekko isn’t going to be on the track, but the theme is ultimately “racing”.

Caitlyn is wearing a dark blue vintage sleepless pleated blouse with the waist cinched and an open-back design, and dark-washed jeans. Her blue leather jacket sits on the counter, just for the moment.

On the other hand, you are wearing shorts that reach your calf with only a red, black, and white polo and one of Sevika’s custom-made race jackets. You can almost smell the scent of sandalwood and smoke as if your nose was nuzzled into Sevika’s neck.

Caitlyn is the one who grabs the amber liquor bottle from the kitchen, moving with it as he brings three shot glasses, setting them down on your table, “I will be drinking in spirit, considering I’m driving.”

You can practically smell the rum from the couch, but you take the small glass. You all form a circle, and a loud clink rings in the living room. “To drinking in secret from our partners, and to them winning tonight’s race.”

The liquor burns your throat, trickling down with sheer force until it’s in your stomach. You feel loose. Not drunk. Simply loose, flowing on the thought of seeing Sevika. You make it out the door just shy of an hour before the actual race begins.

It was Jinx’s idea to drive together and leave your partners to drive together or separate as well. Sometimes it felt rare to be together without your partners breathing down your necks. Caitlyn drives just outside of the city, into a secluded wood that turns into a desert track.

From afar, they could see a myriad of cars parked side by side and a trailer on the far right side. They’re stopped by security, or really a couple of heavy-set dudes with an imprint of a gun strapped to their side. She hands them a card, and the man stares at them for a good three minutes before nodding and letting the car drive through.

“Who are they racing?” You ask, leaning into Jinx’s space, as she looks through photos Ekko has sent her of different motorcycles in Sevika’s garage.

She shrugs, “I heard it’s some old rivals. Isn’t that right, Cait?”

Caitlyn seems even more lost, “She told me this morning, but…I wasn’t paying attention.”

In the back, you have finally caught a glimpse of Sevika on Caitlyn’s phone. Your tongue feels heavy, saliva pooling around the walls of your mouth. The girls are throwing jokes around Sevika while she shows them that racing suit.

The one that makes your spine shudder, and your pussy ache from just seeing how it hugs Sevika’s biceps and thighs. Jinx hums next to you, “Maybe I should get Ekko a race suit.”

When the car is finally parked, you feel perverted walking around with the bottom of your panties soaked, and the smell of smoke and cigarettes burns in your lungs. Caitlyn leads you across the parking field to the ‘campers,’ and soon enough, Vi’s face is glistening in the sea of bodies.

Next to her is Ekko, and someone else. He tears his eyes away from Jinx and points to a camber in the back, “Vika is there waiting for her race to start.”

You give her a short nod and tell the rest, “I’ll come back”, before speed walking to the dark camper. When you’re at the door, you feel nervous. Your stomach lurches, and it feels as though you have something to hide. Something inside your guts is secretly wishing that Sevika is there, naked or perhaps with her race suit on.

You open the door, and the immediate sound of music and Sevika’s loud voices slam in your face. Sevika’s camper is exactly like her. Cold, but oddly comforting. The interior swallows any outside light that might come in. Dim yellow light cast sharp pools of warmth on the metal counters, making the space feel less like a trailer and more like a private, rock star tour bus. It smells of leather and clean metal.

A faded, blood-red Persian rug runs down the center of the narrow floor, and on that rug, is standing Sevika wearing the black and red leather race suit. Leather boots strapped onto her calf, and gloved hands looking bigger than before.

You can’t move. You quietly stare at Sevika, shoving a cereal box in her face, big, gloved hands moving like a butterfly. Behind Sevika is a large bed and fluffed pillows, which make your throat quiver.

Sevika noticed your presence. Her ears immediately perked up when you opened the door, but she stayed still, watching from her peripheral vision as your throat bobbed. After a minute, she looks at you, “My pretty girl.”

You look up, a soft gasp almost in your throat. “Hi. Came to support…you.”

Sevika smiles, putting down the cereal box. She doesn’t move yet; she simply stares at you, a knowing grin plastered on her face because seeing her pretty baby look at her as if she’s a toy is damn near blinding.

You take a step and stop, air still stuck in your throat. You take another, and it’s idiotic to continue walking, because soon enough you’re on your knees, cunt pressed tight against the hem of your shorts, trying to cup her pussy from excitement so you don’t pee yourself. Sevika stills for a second, but she doesn’t panic, merely grabbing the back of your head.

The older woman holds you still while your pink tongue darts out, hand wrapping around Sevika’s legs. Your panting, pupils dilated enough that Sevika can practically see her reflection. Sevika knows her little girl is slipping.

Each second you’re kept from attaching her tongue to Sevika’s pussy, sends you into that soft, bubbly headspace. The headspace that sends tendrils down her spine anytime Sevika cooed at you, calling herself mommy, or slapped your ass until a red mark burned on the flesh. As you try so hard to lick Sevika’s leather crotch seams, meek whines curl in your throat.

Sevika’s mouth twitches, “What does my princess need?”

Your doe eyes are on the brink of tears. You’ve stopped your hips from humping into the air by sheer force, but the pressure of her pussy rubbing the seams, and the smell of leather and oil mere inches away from your nose, have you feeling pussy-drunk.

“Sevika,” he finally manages out, a small gasp following along, “Mommy.”

The tiny clock on the side strikes nine forty, and Sevika sighs. She can be merciful now. She must be merciful now. “You get five minutes.”

You press your head into her crotch, jaw clenching as your face clashes with her mound. You suck in a deep breath, back arching as your body takes in the smell of leather, sweat, and oil. A wet hiccup leaves your lips as you lick a small stripe along the leather.

Sevika grabs the back of your head, pushing a loud mewl off your lips. Sevika clicks her teeth, “How greedy. Close that mouth for me, dove.”

You’re slow to do it, but you tongue tuck back into your mouth, and a whimper ripples around it. Like a lovesick wolf, Sevika huddles you up and places you on the small leather couch.

“That’s my good girl.” She says, checking her tone as she holds you in her arms, patting her back, trying to bring her baby back from subspace. The clock strikes ten fifteen, and your body delivers a shudder, but you can feel the material of your jeans now, and your eyes are no longer trained on the metallic curve of the ceiling overhead.

Warmth rolls through your cheeks, “Sorry…” You mumble, “I didn’t….mean-”

“Don’t apologize…I would’ve been fucking you if you hadn’t dropped to your knees.” Replies Sevika, along the shell of her ear. “We still have about ten more minutes, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

You nod, and you find the rest of the group after sitting there listening to each other’s breathing. They’re huddled towards the back, with a plentiful vision of some of the race track. You are nudged between Jinx and Caitlyn. Sevika attached you to their side, and she turns to Vi, speaking in low tones while you hold onto her hand.

When Vi and Sevika finally move to start their motorcycles, a loud jeer of screams and cheers rings in their ears. Everyone had huddled along the race track, music pumping louder and before as if it’s in your heart. A woman in a tight, tiny leopard bra and tiny shorts, leaving a good view of her lace thongs, walks to the middle of Sevika’s motorcycle and her opponent, raising a white flag.

She waives her hips, and the sound of their engine roars against the ground’s own jeers. “Ready….” She begins.

“Steady…”

And then a roar, “GO.”

It’s pure adrenaline, hearing the scrape of their thick wheels against the dirt, and the push of the crowd. It almost feels as if time slows for a second, and one can hear every single breath they take. For that second, bliss curls against your spine, and you breathe out, letting the sound of the loud cheering and the smell of the dirt against earth wash over you.

The two motorcycles race off along the track, rushing through the white lights illuminating their sides. You can hear the swish of the motor and the thrash of pebbles and earth hitting the wheel. You blink, and the vision of Sevika’s motorcycle drawing close makes you stand up and lightly jump.

Another blink, and it’s victory. Bodies against bodies wash over them, and they pour on the tracks to Sevika. When you look again, it’s the two-second stare of Sevika’s face about to kiss you.

Two seconds, and you’re attached while Sevika explores your mouth, and sucks the outline of your gums, tasting the pineapple-flavored mint and the rum. You whine high-pitched and needy…oh so needy.

Sevika holds you, twirling you into the air for a second, before setting you on the ground with another indecent kiss. The same things through with Vi. The scent of soil and smoke, against the wave of bodies. A blink and drawing closer. A blink, and victory. Except for that time, they hurl at Vi, and while the ground pours along the ground, Sevika has licked the shell of your ears.

Her tongue swipes the peak of your ears, scraping her sharp canines along the flesh, “My pretty girl, you have no manners.” She sneers, lowly, gloved hand slapping into the crotch of your shorts.

A whiny moan squeals out of your lips, as your back arches and your pathetic pink tongue darts out. “Mommy.” It comes out pathetically breathy.

“Barely touched your cunt, and you’re already screaming,” Sevika taunts, fake disappointment laced in every word, “You’re drawing attention, Dove. Let’s take care of that.”

Sevika holds you in her arms, dragging you into the camper until you’re inside, and assumes their position. Sevika commands you, through a fist full of hair, one gloved finger swiping along your cheek.

Sevika grins, holding you mere inches away from her racing suit. Sweat has begun building in the back of her spine along the material, making her feel cool. “I won today’s race, so I think my pup should give mommy a reward, no?”

You whine, feverish and needy as your hips buck into the air. The name makes you gasp, because it had slipped out of Sevika’s mouth once, and since then, when her sultry voice says it, you become puddy in her hand.

You need to be good. You need to please mommy with your mouth and be good. The name makes heat curl along your skin, touching the back of your neck. You desperately need to be good. So fucking good.

And Sevika gleams. She knows exactly the names to use on you when she wants you reduced to nothing but a complaisant, doe-eyed, eager to please, with her pussy wet and shining. Sevika’s heavy boot saddle on your stomach, and you keens. Pleasure instills into your spine, as a solid pressure stabs into your clit. Oh, it’s covering you and so so much more.

“Stay, girl.” She says, and you stay still, waiting for a command while she moves away around. Sevika turns, and you can hear the zipper of the suit, ring, and it makes you so fucking dizzy. A soft click rings in the air, and she’s walking back to you, packer on her hip, bobs displayed on the open.

“Show me how you’re going to suck me off.”

Your jaw slackens, keening as soft leather, and gloved fingers run through your tongue. The material makes your brain into mush, as it slides so gently and easily around your tongue and down your throat. The smell of dirt, gasoline, and leather scrapes your lungs while you rock, eyes glazed and lidded, into the rough boot.

The pressure changes, and she’s sliding it down, hitting your knee again until you’re perched on the material.

Sevika fucks into your mouth, thick fingers breaking into your throat, and your eyes are rolling back, as a glob of spit materializes around your throat. When the fingers begin to slide away from her throat, you breathe in, hips twitching down.

“Sev…,” you choke out, tiny hot tears splitting down your doe-eyes, “Fu-fuck me. Fuckme. Use me. Use me.” You slur.

She leans closer to you, the sight of hair on her belly making you feel floaty, and so fucking good. Your pussy is thumping against your heart with each passing second. She holds your head, inches away from her cock, taunting you with the thick smell of musk and sweat, underlined by the leather. “You like my boots, little dove?” Sevika prompts, shuffling to slide the boots away from under you.

You’ve been too focused on the suit today and barely paid any attention to the armored monoliths of matte black leather and molded polymer around Sevika’s foot. You whimpers and nod, tongue sliding out from her mouth.

“Undress. Don’t touch. Just undress,” She commands.

Your brain swims as you slide off the leather jacket, and then the polo shirt, cold air making hardened buds twitch. You breathe through your nose, fingertips trembling as the jeans come off, leaving you in dark, lacy panties and black socks.

There’s a wet patch on your underwear, and you slide it off; clit twitching from the air. You’re naked save for the socks, and a shudder racks through your body as Sevika stares at you while she spits on her packer. ‘How cute.”

Your body heats up, and you stare, swollen lips caught in your lips, “Can I…?”

Sevika tilts her head, and the thick sole of the boots makes its slow, purposeful contact. It begins to press against the sensitive flesh of your wet folds, spurring a subtle yet sharp pleasure. A small hiccup leaves your hips.

You back arches, and your fingers drop to the three aggressive, industrial-style buckles that bite down, locking the shins in a deliberate, delicious restraint. It’s the first time you’re finally touching the material, fingertips caressing the leather and the rough material. Sevika slides down back under you, pressing the toe of the boot up.

A mewl slides from your throat, as pleasure shoots down your spine. You grind down on the leather material, pussy gliding and clit twitching with every small shift of Sevika’s foot. The older woman watches, smiling down at you.

Her filthy toy–using the boot to get off, fingers pressed, and taking.

When you open your mouth wide enough to catch a glimpse of spit pooling on your pink tongue, Sevika pushes. You leap onto it, tongue attaching to the head with a greedy suck. You bob your head up and down, throat expanding with each bob, working through Sevika’s cock as if it’s your first time.

Sevika groans, snapping her hip into you, until the tip of her cock brushes against your throat. Your body writhes in place, knees locking into the sides of the boot, the drag of your clit against the material, eating your nerves.

Sevika uses You. Fucks into her throat as spit floats down the shaft, coating her fake balls. “That’s it.” Sevika moans, rolling her hip, nestling your nose into her thick pubic hair. “Mouth wetter than a cunt, just for Mommy, isn’t that right?”

The boot presses into you, harder, and your back arches, eyes rolling into the back of her skull, body writhing and twitching as you cum on the sole of Sevika’s soiled boots.

Sevika pulls away, and you sink into the floor. Your spine is tense, and you feel fucked out. As if you’ve been brought to the edge of pressure over and over again. Slick coats the top of Sevika’s boot, and your body gives out consecutive twitches, hips flexing into the air. A mocking tone settles on her mouth. “Tsk. You got my boots dirty…how am I supposed to race tomorrow?” And she sighs, “We can’t have that, can we now? So go on, Dove. Clean mommy’s boot.”

You crawl to her on the floor, ass pointed to the air, while your tongue rakes across the small, tiny puddles on her boot. The scent of your own cum, dirt, and leather, yanks a whimper from your lips. You lick and lick, feeling the soft texture on your tongue. “That’s my good pup.”

And she yanks you back up by the air, gloved fingers rough against the clumps. Damp trails of tears coat your pretty cheeks. You really can’t help it. “Did…I do well?” Your words sound broken and raw.

Against the soft hum of the tiny AC inside the camper, Sevika nods, “So good,” and she drags you, knees scraping against the padded floor, across the Persian rugs, until your back is on the bed. “Don’t worry, little dove. ”

The click of her packer on the bed rings in the camper, and Sevika is quick to hook another toy on the ring, and your eyes flutter seeing the hyper-realistic dildo attached to her. You can see what seems to be veins on the shaft, and the head is slightly red. It’s bigger. Bigger than what she’s given you.

“I–” You whimper, “Mommy, it won’t…it won’t fit.

“Mommy will make it fit.” She coos softly, walking between your parted thighs, “Don’t you trust me? I only do what’s best for you.”

You hiccup softly, as Sevika’s fingers caress your slick folds, moving the coarse hair out of her way, and pressing into the swollen bud. Your foot kicks, toes curling, and she rubs slow, filthy circles around, making you writhe. Everything feels too much and not enough.

She stops for a second, crawling to you and lying on your side, and you give her a second before she’s pulling your face down into her chest. You suckle on her pebbled buds, tongue caressing and sucking. Each moan or tiny noise she makes has you sweating. When she pulls you away, one of her nipples is dark and nearly swollen.

“Keep going.”

You attach your mouth again, changing the position so she’s on her back, and your face is stuffed into her chest, mouth lapping and sucking while your finger pulls on the other nipple. You nibble and moan, each sound muffled by Sevika’s breath, and she caresses your hair until you pull off. A line of spit connects your mouth to her tit. “Mommy, please.”

She knows what you want, and she’s never been one to deny you. Sevika shifts you, now pressing to your body, as one finger dips inside you. You softly gasp, and then she’s down pressing her face into your pussy. Your hole clenches, while Sevika runs a flat tongue against it, scraping the thick, coarse hair.

You swallow thickly, gasping and nearly crying, as she’s fucking her tongue into your hole, inhaling the scent of sweat and soap. Sevika groans around your flesh, hole tightening against her tongue, but he fucuukkkkssss into her pretty filthy thing, slowly splitting you apart. She leans back, two leather-gloved fingers sliding into your puffy pussy.

“How does it feel, baby?” Sevika purs at you, looking down at her hand, “Need to make sure that my glove smells like your pretty pussy, tomorrow.”

Her wet, gloved hand slides out with a squeak, and Sevika grins, face morphing into that condescending look, as your pussy swallows her gloves. “More…need you inside.”

Deep breath, and a sharp exhale, when Sevika moves to mount you, pressing you in half, knees barely meeting your shoulder. Your hole flutters perfectly, while Sevika pauses to admire before, rubbing her faux dildo against your folds.

Spit and slick mix, lathering her thick, red-tipped mushroom head. She barely presses in, ever so gently, before your pussy is catching onto the head as if it’s trying to suck her into you. You keens, back arched.

You feel so fucking full, and Sevika begins to push, all the way in, grazing the perfect spot, before twisting out and slipping back in so so slow. You feel owned. You’re naked, sobbing and moaning at the feel of Sevika’s cock while Sevika is clothed, wearing every inch of herself, treating you like a second-hand toy, and it sends electric sparks across her neurons.

“Fuck,” Sevika groans out, thrusting back and setting a fast, hasty pace. The camper sounds utterly filthy, damn near pornographic with the wet sound of Sevika’s long, fake cock piercing your pussy. Schlick. Schlick. “My pretty dove.”

Schlick.

Sevika fucks into you, starving to get you full. The sound of flesh and flesh pounding is obscene, and your head is so empty, attempting to open your own pussy, “Ins-inside…plea-pleaseplease, inside.”

She groans, “Perfect, so fucking perfect. You should see how pretty your pussy looks stretched out on my strap.” and she continues opening you up, oh so filthily, chasing her own pleasure, chest heaving with pride as drool slides out of your mouth.

Sevika leans down, sucking your tongue, and you drink in her spit like some sacrilegious holy wine. Sevika tears through the walls of your pussy, skin slapping leather in a filthy wet mess.

Pleasure glides across your neurons, and she burrows her cock into your hole, carving an outline of it onto your walls and her stomach. Sevika’s hand grazes above the stomach, and she presses, clit twitching, seeing your back lift from the bed.

Schlick.

Schlick.

You clench, and walls tighten around Sevika’s cock. “‘oing to cum. Plea-please. Mommy…can I…I…” Your brain fuzzes out, thoughts turning to focus on the consecutive slaps of lightning pleasure across your spine, shutting down in your brain.

Fucking Sevika must’ve hypnostized you into a mindfucked slut, who stutters at the sound of Sevika’s fat strap cock fucking into your tight heat. Sweat beads trickle down her neck to her back like tiny spiders, as your stomach tightens, tight pussy contracting, Sevika’s cock.

You feel used, gleaming with slick and spit.

As Sevika fucks you with vigour, your clit twitches, warmth rolling in. White-hot pleasure sizzles across your back as you cum. Glazed eyes, and pink dusted cheeks with a deflected swollen cunt. Sevika should take a picture and have it as her wallpaper. “MOMMY.”

“Don’t worry, Dove mommy’s going to fill you up, mhmkay?” He sighs against You’s tear-soaked cheeks, inhaling her soft scent of flowers and sweat, “I’m gonna make your pussy feel really good for nine months, baby.”

You nod, pleasure-hazed, overstimulation slowly setting in with sharp measures of pain across your spine. White-hot pain that fizzled into pleasure, then pain again. Sevika chases that final high that aches in pussy. And her stomach clenches, nestling her fake cock into your walls. Sevika milks her orgasm through your pathetic, needy whines, crying to stop while pushing her ass out, chasing pleasure again.

When you’re both down, you’re flipped to lean on Sevika’s chest, pussy aching, and skin sweaty and hot. Despite lying in wool material, by some force, a coldness fused with your heat settled between you both. Your eyes are glazed and lidded, pupils dilated, staring into the spaces.

A thin white dim light peeks through the heavy blinds, cutting into the room. A ray of the moon, while Sevika and her pretty girl basque in their glory. Your limbs are tangled with hers through the night, right through the swarm of warm bodies collecting their cars to leave. “You okay, Princess?”

You nod weakly, latching your mouth on her nipple and arm wrapped around her waist. In the middle of the night, the camper is hit with a sound complaint from a few people, but Sevika says something along the lines of “I’ll take care of it.” And that she does.

By the morning, uncomfortableness settles in. Your body aches, and cold sweat sticks to your flesh. You both run back to the apartment, showering together in a bone-warming temperature. Then, nuzzling into each other’s heat, sleeping in the entire day, it feels too much.

Sevika is the first to wake up in the middle of the day, when the dark blue and the sun are halfway down the earth, sending tiny orange rays through the window. “Mommy wasn’t too mean…was I?”

You duck her head into her chest, “I like it when you’re mean…and we have a word. I didn’t use it.”

“Did you like the racing suit?”

You nod, hands tracing down Sevika’s firm stomach, until they’re touching the little ridges on her boxers, “Can mommy wear it again?”

a/n: yes, i do have a mommy thing...no i will not repent for it. Thank you for reading :)

She's a little taken aback when you first bring it up, and nevertheless, nods at your suggestion and asks you what prompted it. She curls her fingers around the back of your neck, as you paw her chest, begging for a collar and everything, “Please, baby, it’ll be worth it, I swear.” 

And she’s never been able to say no to you, so she says, “As long as you pick something pretty.”

She nearly breaks when she sees everything you’ve bought, not because of the money, because she doesn’t care for that, but because you look so fucking pretty. Two floppy ears in your head, a tail plug to match the color, and a dog collar that makes your face brighter. You turn to wiggle your bottom at her, “Doesn’t it look pretty?”

Her hands grip your waist, fingers grabbing the soft fur of the tail, and she pulls and pushes the plug, holding you as you mewl in her hand. “Sev–”

“Wrong name. We gotta find a new one, can’t give my pup a bad habit.”

There's a complete change in her demeanor afterwards. She begins to pull you next to her when she sees you slip into that malleable headspace, ushering you to kneel at her feet, face on the skin of her kneecap. She pets your head while you’re down, whispering sweet praises as her cigar smoke hurls around the air. And you stay down until she tells you to get up. 

She’s very careful about her words as you sink, making sure always to touch you, and keep you around her, occasionally raking her nails on your back. “Who’s my good pup?” 

You give her a meek bark that pulls a smirk out of her. Her thumb brushes down your cheek until they slide inside your mouth, while her fingers hold your cheek. “Open.” She whispers, eyes trained on your drooling mouth.

Sevika spends a good portion of her lunch breaks at work searching for things to give her new puppy. A new leash? A dog bowl? A new collar? Maybe a crate? And she spends hours looking for everything and anything, keeping you in the dark because she likes to surprise you. 

When the pretty black crate arrives, she sets it in the corner of your shared bedroom, decorating it with lights, your favorite pillows and blankets, along with your new puppy bowl. And when she shows it to you, it only takes a few seconds because she’s ushering you inside. “How does it feel, pup?”

“I like it.” You reply, heart eyes on her, as your fingers grip the small bars, “Should we try it out tonight?”

Sevika teases you in public, despite being somewhat adverse to PDA. She’d lean in closer as you’re shopping or out in public, mouth near your ear, and call you her best pup, while whispering condescending praises, making it seem innocent from afar. “Tsk. You keep walking away, maybe you should start wearing your leash, so I can keep you in place…”

You whine at her words, pushing her away softly, the myriad of bags in her hand bouncing. “You’re always talking. As if you’d actually go through it.” And her eyes narrow, taking your words as a challenge.

There's something inside Sevika that pulls her bones, when she gets to embarrass and secretly humiliate you until you’re crying. But she does it softly, staring with a date, ushering you to drink and drink, distracting you when you’re whining about needing to use the bathroom.

With each second, the push to your bladder becomes unbearable, and she massages your shoulders from the driver's seat. “It’s okay, we’re almost home.”

When you arrive home, she moves you to the couch, massages your stomach, and puts on a movie while you squirm in her arms. “Please, sev.”

She tilts her head, “Mhm, wrong name…for such an obedient pup, you keep acting like a mutt. To the corner.” Her voice is low, though gentle, as she points to the corner of the room. “Or would you rather write lines?”

She watches you squirm as you write lines on the coffee table, shifting on your calves, trying to stop your bladder from rushing about. Your back is mere inches away from her knees, and she leans in to massage your stiff muscles, forcing you to relax until you’ve forgotten your bladder again. 

She places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and hauls you into her lap, “My belly hur–”

Sevika hums, “‘ts all right, don’t worry about that… your puppy brain can’t handle all that thinking.” Her fingers knead the flesh of your stomach while she presses her face against your neck, inhaling your scent.

She only lets you off her lap when you’re shaking and writhing, tears brimming in your waterline. A smile curls against your skin, taking in your shallow breaths and meek whimpers, hoping that you’d beg her to let you go. 

She gives you mercy, letting you wobble to the bathroom, eyes trained on the way you struggle to take each step. Sadism grapples her limbs, and she keeps your little expressions, and willingness in the back of her head.

When you wobble back, she rubs and pats your back, whispering little encouragements, “That’s my pet. ‘m so proud of you…give me a bark.” And even as you hide your face on her shoulder, you bark for her, soft and whiny.

And she slowly becomes obsessed with fucking you from behind, while you’re wearing a plug with a tail. Each smack of your ass against her hip, as her strap digs into you, sends hot rushes through her skin, more so when her big hands grip the plug and wiggle it, making your cunt clench around the dildo. 

Her hands grip your waist, and she pushes your back down, pulling up your ass until you're arching, face pressed into the sheets–a drooling mess. Little tears drip down your cheeks, and she’s forcing you to wiggle your ass, as you whimper, “C’mon, mutt, don’t you want to cum, fuck yourself.”

You give her a wet sob, each word makes your cunt leak, and spasm around Sevika’s strap. Tiny flashes of heat drip down your spine, making your stomach flutter until you feel full. You push back into her, eyes nearly rolled back as you weakly attempt to fuck yourself on Sevika. “...close…’m clo–”

Her hips buck into you like a needy, rabid wolf, snarling as she sees your cunt flutter around her strap. Her big hands slap down on your ass, making you sob and each filthy crack of skin against skin, until you’re writhing on the sheets, shaking your ass for her. “more–” 

“I know, baby,” Sevika coos at you, and her hand slides off your waist until they reach your cunt, fingers rubbing filthy circles around your wet, swollen clit. “...wanna cum, huh?”

You nod, feverishly, pushing back until your hands scrabble to find Sevika’s hand, and hold on. “Need…need it.” And sevika pinches your clit, sending sparks through your body, until you’re milking her strap, cunt fluttering and aching with each thrust.

A month later, she drills a doghook into the wall of her office, buzzing with energy each time she ties the leash of your collar on it. It becomes clockwork, to keep you there, with only your panties, while she works. The clack of her computer rings around the air, drilling into your skull as you paw the floor, lying on your side.

The plug is nuzzled inside comfortably, tail on the floor, until Sevika snaps her finger. She taps her foot on the floor, making you crawl to her until you’re facing her, in between her legs.

Her thumb brushes into your mouth, tapping your tongue, “keep it open. Don’t drool.” Her hand leaves your mouth, and she’s back to working while you try your best to keep from drooling in between her legs.

Saliva pools in the back of your mouth, and you’re heaving on her lap, whining and pawing her leg. She barely spares you a glance, eyebrows furrowed into her little natural scowl.

Her eyes flick back to her screen until a drop of drool slips down your tongue, dripping onto the open spot between her legs, right down to the leather chair. “Tsk. You really can’t follow a simple direction, huh?”

A slap comes down on your ass, while you sniffle and mewl, continuously pulling the leash attached to your collar. “‘m so–”

SMACK

“Pups don’t speak.” She urges softly, rough hands quickly massaging your aching flesh. "They bark and listen."

You bark, slow and gently, earning a smile from her. She pushes you down on the bed, ever so gently, placing soft kisses on your cheeks and neck, nipping the skin, while you squirm in bed.

She opens you up, gently, licking your cunt through the slick-wet panties, sucking on your folds, then your swollen clit. Each flutter your muscle gives, urges her on until she’s making out with your pussy, moaning and groaning while pulling on the leash. "So fucking good...so pretty."

You bark at her, pushing your hips into her mouth, grinding into her, gasping with each lick. You cum on her tongue, all through your panties, and then again after she pulls them down, smirking in pride at the thick glob of slick connecting your soaked panties to your aching cunt.

Sevika quickly becomes obsessed with you being her puppy all the time, mind muddled by the vision of you with your floppy ears and tail, even when she’s at work. Her cunt leaks at the thought of keeping you as a desk pet for her strap. She quickly buys a box to fill with pup items, until it begins to leak out of the box from how much shit she’s bought. 

She watches you work around the house and come back from work exhausted. She quickly changes from her work clothing and messages you into that malleable headspace until she’s walking you to the bedroom. She pets you, until you’re wining on her chest, tongue darting to taste the salt of her skin. "Hard day at work?"

You nod at her words, nuzzling your face into her neck. "I hate it."

A soft humming circles the room, a sound curling from Sevika’s throat until you’re suckling on her boob, until she’s guiding her thigh between your legs. And she urges you to hump her leg, drooling on her tit. “Your puppy brain worked too hard today, huh? That’s it, baby, you don’t have to think anymore...just be good for me.”

mdni | content: omorashi, desperation play, praise kink, sadomasochism, power play, orgasm control, bladder control, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, dacryphilia, verbal humiliation, impact play, sexual roleplay....heavily inspired by Secretary (2002) Pairing: Lawyer! Hiromi x Reader

Your relationship with Hiromi did not start as eccentric as it is now. It started slow, with a date at a restaurant that played slow jazz, and awkward smiles, until the tension eased from your shoulders. You had watched his behaviour because a part of you has always been fascinated by people, and how they acted in all sorts of situations. 

Then another date on which he brought orchids, but not white orchids, all different kinds like Naked Man Orchid, Monkey Face Orchid, and Cattleya Orchid. You’re not a flower person, but you’ve always liked the ones that looked rather alienish, like they did not belong. Then a kiss by the lake, with another set of flowers, followed by, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You said yes a thousand times, yes.

Sex with Hiromi is tender, like you’re being taken care of by a pair of silk hands, and you’re brought to the edge over and over again, until hot tears are slipping down your eyes, and your belly flutters.

So, the sudden change in…dynamic surprised him. But it had started with a simple question from you: “Have you ever watched the Secretary?”

Then you watched it that night, because it’s your favourite movie, and a part of you feels a little guilty and ashamed because Grey was a lawyer like Hiromi, and they had the same aloofness that made you want to see them angry.

So you watched the movie, and his reaction, until it gets to the part in which Lee is suddenly spanked, and Hiromi stiffens next to you, and his breath hitches. His nails dig into your nail as your legs are on him, and his eyes flutter. 

A pink tint rose on his cheeks, dipping down his black cotton shirt, and when his jaw clenched down, you realised that he was aroused…not uncomfortable. He enjoyed it so much that you could feel his skin heat up. You stopped the movie in the middle under the false claim of “I’m sleepy, let’s go to bed.”

 And the next time you’re having sex, and you’re pressed against the bed, chest flushed onto the bed, while his hips are bucking into your ass, his hands come down, as if he wanted to spank you, but he stops midway, choosing instead to grip onto the flesh. That moment solidifies your decision.

“Can we roleplay something?” You ask, chin resting on the couch seat, staring at Hiromi flipping a vegetable pancake in the air. The smell of mushrooms and scallions clings to the air, and you see him nod.

“Yeah…of course.” Hiromi sets the table with two vegetable pancakes, steamed rice, and pickled cucumbers in front of you. When he sits, you lay it all down. 

“Remember that movie we watched…the secretary.” He nods, slowly, “I want to pretend to be your secretary…and you can spank me, and everything. We settle on a safeword beforehand, though.”

“When do you want to…” His voice trails off, softly cracking, “When do you want for?”

You shrug, “Whenever…how about, when you’re ready, you put a bottle of water next to me, and I can change, and we go from there.”

You settle on “bonsai”. A rapid, peculiar word, but the most memorable. After that conversation, you figure he’d begin the next day. But he doesn’t. It’s as if the conversation did not take place, and you continue as usual.

The next day, when you come back from work, not too exhausted, almost expecting Hiromi to still be at work, you’re surprised by the sight of a Paphiopedilum orchid. The exact one from the movie.

It’s on top of the dark brown coffee table, in front of the olive leather couch, and lying next to the orchid is a gardening scissor, and a syringe. You kick off your shoes, plunging the socks into the open mouth, and walk to the table, taking a few seconds to inspect the room. 

When you lean down to see the orchid, the soft steps of Oxford shoes move from the bedroom to the living room. “Do you like them?” Hiromi is still wearing his suit, tie tight around the neck. 

You nod, watching him sit on the couch, before his shoes tap on the floor, one finger pointing to the space on the floor, between his legs. Sit. You follow, dropping your bag on the small seat before sitting on the floor, back towards him, while staring at the orchids. 

You want to turn, but something inside you says not to, and soon enough you feel his hands on the buttons of your dress shirt, strong, veiny hands popping the buttons. The small heat of his body curls behind your back, and your throat bobs. 

There’s no noise around you except for your small ragged breaths, because you’re beginning to feel everything. The small breaths Hiromi takes close to the shell of your ear, and the strong, cold press of the floor against your legs.

“How was your day?” Hiromi whispers, nosing your hair, letting you revel in the small warmth. “Tell me about it.”

“I–” Your throat bobs, saliva pooling in your mouth, “I helped prepare the venue for a wedding…and–and oversaw the training of a new girl. There was an accident with some allergic reaction to the food ordered for one event, and…and that’s all.” When the last button is open, cold air presses against your tank top.

Hiromi hums, fingers brushing down, sliding into your skin, “Good.” A soft gasp erupts from your lips, and you bite your bottom lip, keeping your hands pressed to your side, until he’s sliding the top up your body, dropping it next to you. 

“Pick it up.”

Your shaky fingers pick up the white tank top, and you fold it before holding it up. His fingers never really brush yours, but you feel the faintest brush of his skin against them. You wait there, letting the seconds pass until he slides a lamp next to the orchids. “Tell me its name.”

Under the cool glow of the desk lamp, the orchid looks less like a flower and more like a strange specimen. “Paphiopedilum.” 

Again. You’re by no means a florist, but orchids were different. They seldom really looked like flowers, which is why you really liked them, and as soon as you finished the movie, you looked into the strange little orchids.

Your fingers point at the Paphiopedilum, staring at its waxy pouch, which droops over like the throat of a pelican. The flower itself is a tapestry of purple bruising and deep burgundy veins, set off by a dorsal sepal which resembles that of an upturned heraldic shield. And underneath the flower, there’s a pattern of dark green spots.

 “Paphiopedilum,” You repeat.

“Good. Pick up the scissor,” He commands, but very softly like he’s telling a wounded animal to behave. Heat simmers in your lower belly, and your skin prickles as his fingers are suddenly kneading the back of your neck, thumb pressing into the bone, just enough where a tinge of pain flutters through your body.

His hands drop down your neck, and pick up the scissors, waiting for instructions. Eagerly waiting, because your brain has stopped functioning, turning fuzzy as Hiromi’s sultry, deep voice tells you when to move and when to stop. You clamp up for a second, as his hands slide on top of yours. “Open.”

And you open, letting him guide you, scissor tracing the stem down to the base of the orchid, and he makes you angle the scissor to match the natural slope of the leaf axil. For a brief moment, he holds your hand, keeping it there, “Now.” Your thumb presses down, and with a snip, you remove the dead weight. 

You’re shaking now, slowly lowering the scissor on the table, and picking up the needle, skin prickling at the cold feel of the syringe against your warm skin. While Hiromi slowly inches toward your body, you shift your weight onto your foot, lower body pressing right onto the heel, until you feel the pulsing of your cunt against your own skin. 

You’re softly rocking now, back and forth, unconsciously, until you're letting out shaky breaths, fingers softly twitchy. The strong press of Hiromi’s hands on your shoulders halts your movement. “Do not move.”

“‘m sorry,” You whisper, sucking in a breath, and his cheek is on yours, nose turning to your skin, inhaling. He lets out a soft sigh, and his hands slide down to yet again guide yours. “I don’t think–I’m going to mess this up.”

“You won’t…because I’m here,” He coes for just a second, “Do you understand?”

You nod, and his Oxford shoes are sliding to press the side of your trembling legs. Your cunt clenches against air, and everything aches, from your hands to your fingers, to your legs to your dripping cunt–even though Hiromi has simply touched you and uttered a few commands. 

The needle of the syringe gleams, and he’s guiding it to the slightly shrunken pseudobulb of the orchid, at the rear of it. You’re trying to calm your nerves, holding the bulb between your thumb and forearm, feeling the tautness of the skin.

 Hiromi’s warm hand slowly pushes yours until the needle is sinking at a shallow angle, piercing the exterior. “Very good,” He softly murmurs next to you, husky voice making you shiver, “So good for me. Doing everything perfectly.” 

Slowly, he pushes into your thumb, making you depress the plunger, and you watch the skin little by little, tighten and plump as fluid is injected into the plant. “Hiromi.” Whimper.

“Shh, it’s okay.” And he lets go, pulling your hand, withdrawing the needle, moving your hand to set it down.

You’re vibrating in your skin because a feeling that you’ve longed for has touched your spine. Utter helplessness has touched your spine. Hiromi pulls you up until you’re perched on his knee, and his hands are wrapping around your waist. 

Sweat trickles down your scalp, and Hiromi bounces his knee, just once, sending your hands flying down until they’re pressed on top of each other right on his knee, in front of you. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips, and he bounces his knee again, and again. 

There’s a beauty in letting someone move, and possess you, seeing you at your ‘lowest’ and ‘needies’, and rather than feeling disgust, they feel…a need to show you. To manoeuvre you…to make sure that you’re taken care of.

“Fuc–”. Your eyes flutter close, and you ride Hiromi’s knee, whining and calling his name, the meat of his cunt pressed just right, so that you’re sure he can feel the rhythmic pulse of it. Then he stops, and you’re breathless, eyes opening, unfocused, “Hiromi.”

 You finally turn, and he’s staring at you, breathing so heavily you can see his chest moving up and down. His pupils are blown, eating his dark eyes, and when you look down, there’s a thick tent and a wet patch on his dark dress pants. “Up.” He breathes, softer and lower, “Take off your pants.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A shudder runs through Hiromi’s body, and you stand up from his lap, knees wobbling, turning to face him, and you unbutton your dark slacks, pushing them down. “Fold it.”

You lean down, picking up the pants, neatly folding them, and the heat trickling down your spine. There are black bat patterns on your dark purple panties, and you see the faintest curl of Hiromi’s lips. Your thighs press against each other, and you can feel how damp your panties are. 

Hiromi pats his lap once, and you walk to him, dropping the folded pants on top of the pants on the couch. He pats his leg again, “On my lap.” And you place yourself on his lap, and he smiles, cheeks pink, “You did well, very…well. That’s all for today.”

You pout, shoulders going slack, “Please, Hiromi. I want to c–”

“No.” He says with a small head shake, the word so commanding and soft. “Shower. Dinner. Sleep. Don’t even think about touching in the bathroom, because I will know.”

You follow his words, though a pout stays on your lips, even if you aren’t really mad at him. If anything, the anticipation of having to wait is enough to make goosebumps rise every time you think about it. Nothing happens the next day. While you don’t overthink every movement Hiromi does, your eyes search for his hands, waiting for him to place a water bottle in front of you. 

To take your mind off it, you buy a typewriter, an actual typewriter. It’s black and slightly rusty, though one can’t really see it. When you clean it, you run your fingers across the cool, circles containing big, bold engraved letters. You grow to enjoy the constant clicks of the and the little ding that rings off it.

On Saturday, Hiromi does not work. You come fairly early, and easy day of doing nothing, and you see the typewriter on the dinner table, a chair positioned right in front of it. Oddly enough, Hiromi comes out of your shared room fully dressed in his suit, and he smiles, “Long day?”

You shake your head, dropping the bag on the loveseat, “Not really. A little boring.”

He grabs a water bottle, placing it next to the typewriter, and a lump builds in your throat. “Shower, and come to my office.”

You stand in the doorway for a good minute staring at the water next to the typewriter, before you dash into the room, quickly shedding your clothing. You’re meticulous, showering with caution, then lathering honey-scented lotion around your body. 

Your clothing–dark purple rib knit tights, dark purple short-sleeved blouse with ruffled detailing, black Mary Janes, and a black pencil skirt with a slit on the back–is something similar to Lee’s wardrobe. When you enter the ‘office’, which is simply Hiromi’s home office, the orchid is on his desk, and he’s wearing thin silver glasses. 

It takes you a second to take in Hiromi because, despite him wearing his usual suit, he’s looking at you through lidded eyes with such an…atmosphere of demand and dictation, your muscles tense up.

“You called me, Sir?” You finally ask, hands resting on top of each other in front of you, and he nods.

“From our meeting with Mr Godfrey. I want his letter of recommendation on my desk.” He says, sliding a small black and red recorder, to you. “You have thirty minutes.”

Your clammy hands grab the recorder, and as you walk out, he stops you. “And make sure to stay hydrated.”

You aren’t a beginner on the typewriter, but you have no experience besides the short videos you watched to prepare. The setup of the letter takes almost ten minutes, and you’re still sloppy. You write out thoroughly 200 words, hearing the soft drum of Hiromi’s voice while taking continuous sips of the warm water bottle.

But it’s as though Hiromi took his sweet time speaking into the recorder, voice soft and silky, “....a case is often won or lost in the margins, a misplaced citation, a poorly formatted brief or a lack of…’ and he drones on, while the typewriter clicks and clacks.

A part of you that drives off perfection, breaks as you make spelling errors through the letter, yet anticipation rolls through your body, and goosebumps lather your flesh. The fein feel of Hiromi’s sharp hands across your ass makes your spine curl. 

The thin paper shakes in your hand, and as you walk to the office, a small pressure surges against your bladder. The cold air, your tights pressed against your lower abdomen, and Hiromi’s watchful eyes, naw at your flesh.

When you hand the letter to Hiromi, he spares you a glance and begins to read it. A thick red marker comes out, and he begins to highlight until the paper looks like a college midterm paper.

“Type it again.” Hiromi says, sliding the paper back, “These typing errors aren’t the first time, and I’ve let them go since it was the first week. This cannot go on.”

Your knees tremble, and a rush of humiliation passes through your body, “I’m sorry–”

“Do you know what this makes me look like…to the people who receive these letters? Type it again, and get it right.” His voice lowers at the end, and he looks so, so mean, staring at you through his lidded, small eyes. Next to the letter is another water bottle, and you take both.

As you retype the letter, the push to your bladder becomes impossible to ignore. Your body shudders, and your knees are shaking to rid yourself of the temptation to use the bathroom. You’re twitching in the wooden chair, yet you feel your panties dampen, mind reeling with what Hiromi will do to you.

When the letter is down, the pressure to your tummy is blinding, pushing against and pushing, until you’re moving your hips, back caved in. It takes a minute for the feeling to go away, and you’re back in his office, sliding the paper to him. There’s a bored expression on his face that morphs into laxness as the red marker comes out again.

When he stands up, your breath hitches. Hiromi slides the letter to you and slowly moves behind you, Oxford shoes clicking on the polished floor. “I want you to be over the desk, so you’re looking directly at it. Get your face very close to the letter…and read it aloud.”

You place your elbows on the desk, bending over as the bright red circles take over your vision. You aren’t sweating yet, but heat spreads under your skin, while blood buzzes in your ears.

“To whom it may concern, I am writing this letter regarding the profes–” 

SMACK

A rough gasp rings in the room as the smack echoes, and your knees nearly lock. Your head slowly turns to Hiromi, and he’s up close now, pupils blown with pink cheeks. “Continue.”

“Professional performance of my associate, Michel Godfrey.”

SMACK

Heat trickles down your spine, and your stomach flutters. The sensation of pain across your ass fizzes into warm pleasure, as jolts of pain circle your bladder. You clamp your thighs together, breathing going ragged. In the silence, you can hear Hiromi behind you, breathing as heavily as you.

“During the tenure of his employment at this firm, he had demonstrated a commendable aptitude for the minutiae of legal procedure.” SMACK

You hold in a whimper, trying to sink your shoes on the ground, “In our field, a case is often won or lost in the margins, a misplaced citation, a poorly formatted brief, or a lack of attention…” SMACK “...to the specific texture of a client’s testimony.” SMACK

You’re unsure of how to describe the feeling passing through your brain. A part of you has shut off, skin feeling fuzzy, almost unfocused on nothing besides the fizzing pleasure of the pain across your ass. Yet, another part of you trembles as the pressure on your stomach has you letting some warm liquid trickle down to your panties.

 A soft whimper crosses your mouth, and another hard smack lands on the same place, pushing you forward. “I recommend him for any position that requires an uncompromising commitment to perfection. Feel free to call me at your earliest convenience. Sincerely, Hiromi Higuruma.” SMACK

Tears lather your waterline, and you’re trying to blink them away, as another push makes you squeeze your stomach. Each smack becomes harder, continuously, on the same spot, as you reread the letter, until Hiromi is pressed against you. Hot tears drip down cheeks, while warm liquid flows down, seeping through the purple tights. SMACK

“Sir…” You whimper, tight hiccup leaving your lips, “I need–need…’m going to leak, can’t hold it in.” 

Hiromi sharply inhales, hand sliding to your stomach, and he presses into it, until pushing into your bladder, forcing you to push out hot liquid, while little tears all across the paper, making the red bleed. “You’re a visual representation of my office…of me. I can’t have my secretary doing such a thing without reprimand.” SMACK

Hiromi’s strong hand slaps your ass until your soft sobs ring around the room, nails trying to sink into the table. Your limbs loosen, and despite the sharp pain curling through your body, white-hot pleasure rushes through your spinal cord, tapping your brain.

Your swollen clit, rubs against your damp panties, and you try your hardest for some friction as your thighs are compressed together, but no relief avails. Your left knee has twisted itself, kneecap pressing into the other leg, all while liquid rushes out of you, trailing down, hitting your Mary Janes and the floor. 

A puddle slowly forms, your body still squirming–itching for release, and Hiromi presses himself against you, “You did very well. I will reward you…Do you want a bonsai or do you want me to soothe your pain?” 

Your brain is too far gone to stop. You’re itching to realise. Itching to be good, you hiccup, sniffing softly, “want you to soothe…soothe my pain, sir.”

“Atta girl.”

You moan at the praise, and Hiromi’s hands are pulling down your skirt, nail softly scrapping your skin as your tights and skirts pool on the floor, hitting the puddle. Your back arches, and you’re still bent over, eyes lidded, even breaths coming out. 

You feel like liquid, drifting into pleasure. Behind you, Hiromi picks up a pair of scissors, resting them against your panties, “You don’t need these today.” He groans, and he snips them off, throwing them on the floor.

You’re half dazed on his table, body reeling with hopelessness, and serenity as he pushes you on top of it, turning your body as if you’re a ragdoll. And he stares at you for a second, hands sliding to the back of your thighs, separating your legs with a condensing smile, eyebrows knitted together, “Poor thing, don’t worry, I’ll make you feel better.”

Hiromi dips down, lathering kisses on your inner thighs, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin, spreading you wide, watching your pussy glisten coated in your own slick, clit swollen and peeking from its hood. 

He clicks his teeth, warm breath against your cunt, “Maybe I should punish you in another way. A good secretary wouldn’t be turned on from such vile punishment.” 

You hiccup, eyes staring at the light in the room, and you gasp, hip jerking when Hiromi leans in pressing a kiss on your swollen clit. He does it again, slower, licking it, then wrapping his lips around the bud. 

Your whole body twitches, breathing coming in ragged gasps that turned into high-pitched whines as Hiromi traces lazy circles around your clit, each consecutive flick sending sparks through your nerves. He stops, and you whimper, eyes half-lidded, staring at nothing. 

“So perfect,” he moans, voice soft, as he moves his hand to stroke your hip. You try to speak, words coming out slurred and unintelligible, mind too cottony to do anything but buck your hips into his mouth.

He drags his tongue through your wet folds, then from your sopping hole up to your clit, licking it until your hands fly to his hair, tightening. “More.”

Your hips buck again, and Hiromi gives your clit fast flicks, groaning against you until the vibrations make your shoulders lift off the cold surface. Your feet kick in the air, and everything is too much. Hiromi’s tongue is full on fucking you as he sucks and laps at your sensitive nerve. Soft sobs ring, not the usual sobs but shoulder-shaking sobs, which makes Hiromi cock twitch.

Your stomach tightens, pleasure building against your spine coming in soft waves, as Hiromi slides in two fingers that fuck out a wet squelch from your pussy. His tongue never stops, and he presses open-mouthed kisses to your clit while your body is jerking, almost running from the dizzying build up.

 “C’mon, be good for them. Cum for me, baby.” Hiromi moans against your pussy, curling his fingers, making your kicks out again. 

More tears slide down your cheeks, and he japs at the spongy spot, sliding in and out of your walls, then japping into that spongy spot until your drool, thighs trembling.

Your fingers twitch, and the urge to piss passes through your body, forcing your body into an arch and making your cunt flutter around his fingers until you’re dissolving into nothing.

A whole-body shudder rolls through you, and for a moment, you’re just there sitting in the warm, with nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat, letting out tiny, meek whimpers. You don’t come back fully, not even as Hiromi is pulling you off from the desk, so so softly. And he leaves you there wobbling, pupils huge and unfocused. 

He moves across the room, leaning on the wall, “Come here.”

You blink, limbs feeling like they’re filled with sand. He taps on the spot in front of him, and your weak legs tremble as you stand on unsteadily, shaking in the Mary Janes. You take one step, then another, knees nearly buckling.  “I ca–can’t–.”

“You can…and you will,” 

You try again, eyes focused on taking steady steps and the sensation of your cunt clamping around air. “You’re wobbling, Y/N…is this how you will walk to our guests?”

You shake your head, “No, n–no sir.”

“Walk again.”

And you return to the desk, hiccuping, body shaking, trying to walk again, heels clicking on the floor, while your cold air bites your skin, and your cunt clenching again. Your pussy pulses, and slick lathers the inside of your thighs.

When you finally make it to him, Hiromi grabs the back of your head, pushing your lips to his. You tilt your head, whining into his mouth, as Hiromi licks your mouth open, sloppy and filthy. Your brain is hazy and foggy, body unmoving, only whining and shaking when Hiromi nips at your lower lip.

When you pull away, Hiromi’s slacks have a thick tent, and he’s undoing his belt, zipper coming down, until he pulls his cock out. Precum oozes out of the head, and the tip is a bright, angry red. “Do you want to be a good secretary?”

You nod. And he’s clasping your hand around himself, while you’re staring, eyes glassy with need and want. Hiromi jerks into your hand, using your hand to fuck himself while you feel him twitch, cunt dripping.

It’s not part of the roleplay but rather your own need, and soon enough, you’re on the floor, knees pressed down, tongue salivating against Hiromi’s balls.

He groans, and guiding your face to him until your lips are wrapped around the head, tongue circling it, tasting the faint saltiness of his arousal. He pushes in, brushing the back of your throat, as your jaw goes slack, drool seeping down the corner of your mouth.

And he does slow, lazy thrusts, groaning and moaning, using your mouth as if you’re a toy for his own pleasure. “So open for me…all mine”, Hiromi coos at you while you whimper around him, reaching for anything, nails digging into his skin, while Hiromi’s thrust picks up, and your nose brushes his pelvis. 

Through sheer force, you push off, body softly landing on your bottom, heel scraping the floor. You look away from Hiromi, “Not yours…”

Hiromi’s cock twitches, and he suppresses a smile, changing his face to a sneer, “Say that again.”

Your chest heaves up and down, “I’m…I’m not yo–yours.”

Hiromi narrows his eyes, and he moves quickly, pulling you up by your shoulder, turning you around, and pushing you onto the desk, face down. “You are mine. You are my secretary,” He sneers. 

“Sir–”

“Until I say so, you will be mine…”One hand slide down to your waist, pushing your ass to him, until you feel him pooking the cleft of your ass, while another grabs a fist of your hair, “...All mine.”

Hiromi lines himself up, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside you, as you whine at the pressure, hiccuping. “Say you’re mine.”

You shake in his hand, and he buries himself in you, hips bucking forward until his balls are pressing on your ass, and you can feel him in your stomach. You feel so fucking full, drooling at the press of Hiromi’s thick cock. “Fuc–fuck, ‘m yours–yours,” You mewl, words choked and ragged.

Hiromi pushes harder, hips snapping into you, flesh hitting flesh as your body curls itself with pleasure, back arched. Your pussy twitches, and Hiromi’s dragging his cock against your walls. “Feel that…that’s your cunt tightening for me.”

You sob right into the air, brain short-circuiting from the continuous pleasure, as Hiromi softly angles his hips, bucking into that spot that makes your thighs shake. A high-pitched, “Hiromi”, leaves your lips, eyes rolling back, almost sounding like a plea.

 Your cunt throbs, slick and leaking, coating Hiromi’s cock until a filthy squelch echoes along your guttural sobs and moans. “Only I get to see you like this.” 

And you’re floating away in his hands, hands going down, to open yourself for Hiromi, and it’s utterly filthy and damn near degrading the way he twitches inside you, seeing you become all disroainted and wobbly while he fuck you into pliancy.

“Har–harder,” You gasp, pushing your hips back into him. 

SMACK

You clench around him, letting out loud, trembling moans, the pain rolling your body into overstimulation. His warm skin presses against yours, and while his hips keep snapping, his hands press on top of yours, chest on your back, feeling his breath on the shell of your ear. 

You turn your head, eyes now on the white wall, and Hiromi is licking your tears, “Fuck–” he whimpers as you clamp down again. He grips your waist, nails digging in until you’re sure you’ll be purple and blue tomorrow, while he pounds into you again and again,

“Fuck–Y/N, how does it feel? Tell me, baby,” Hiromi chokes, panting as he pistons his hips into your ass, flesh making like the sound of gunshots.

“Go…good, so so fuc–fucking good,” You wail, hand moving to grip onto Hiromi’s dress shirt, pulling him into you. You feel on fire. Nerves fizzing away, while you feel Hiromi in your stomach. Your eyes squeeze shut, pussy squelching as your orgasm builds up, consuming any logical or working part of your brain.

You drool on the table as your hips are pulled back, and the weight of Hiromi on your back disappears. You whine and wail as your waist is lifted, and the tip of your Mary Janes points to the floor. “So pretty–all fucked out, and dumb. Gonna keep you like this, want that?”

You nod, dumbly and fereishly, cheek “Yes, wa–want it,” You wail, feeling Hiromi’s cock kiss that good spongy spot inside you, and he fucks and fucks into it, until you’re sobbing, filthily squeezing his cock, as you come, piss dribbling out of you. 

Hiromi’s cock twitches, cuming with a guttural moan, feeling warm envelop him, and your walls clench so tight, they’re milking him, trying to squeeze every single drop out of him. SMACK

Your thighs shake, muscles clenching, and Hiromi huffs out a breath, groaning. Your body sags, and Hiromi catches you. Your brain is so far gone, as if you’re at sea, letting waves wash over you. You whimper, feeling Hiromi slide out of you, cum seeping down your soaked pussy.

The room turns, and Hiromi’s carrying you. “Did I–I do…good?” You whimper into his neck, nosing at his jugular vein, inhaling the scent of soap and wood. “Did I, Sir?”

“Yes,” Hiromi hums, “You did so well for me, baby. You took your punishment and your reward very good. We’ll get ice cream tomorrow. Let's get you cleaned.”

And while you’re burning, spine all tight and taut. Hiromi takes off your clothing, peppering kisses on your sweaty skin. His mouth presses against yours, softly and tenderly, licking inside your mouth, hands kneading your skin.

Hiromi showers you with extra care, whispering continuous praises as you slowly come down, your body floating. He lathers cream on your ass and dresses you in soft pyjamas, kissing you with sheer softness and gentleness, until you’re nuzzling your face on his neck. 

“So perfect for me.” He murmurs, holding your body as you immediately fall asleep, snoring away on his neck.

Save me, James Spader, save me !!! My favorite movie, and so I had to do a Hiromi fic, with some of my own thinly veiled kinks. Because this is directly inspired by the actual movie, there were words and sentences said in the movie that had been translated into this fic!!!

And thank you for reading, (˶>⩊<˶) i hope i wrote the eroticism the movie has well enough!!

You use the tiny gummies for your pains, and sometimes when the ache in your muscles fizzes away during the hours you stay still, you use them to have some fun. Which is really just staring at a movie until you realise that you never pressed play.

Nanami, on the other hand, does not. But he doesn’t talk about your habit, or how you get woozy when you take some. Sometimes you offer him some, but he shrugs it off, saying it’s not his thing. That is, until the week he takes off comes rolling down. 

When he gets back he starts by complaining of his muscles, and the stiffness on them. “Sitting like a damn crab, has made my muscles ache.”

You stare at him from the couch, as he loosens his tie, and drop his bag on the coffee table. “Want a message.”

He shakes his head and instead sits next to you, planting a big kiss on your cheek, then temple, then lips. He groans softly, tongue darting to your bottom lip, and you don’t open your mouth. Instead, you smile against his lips, while he whines. “Baby, please.”

“Why don’t I…give you something magical for the pain?” you say, fishing for the small tin. “But if you don’t want it atleast take a bubble bath. Or maybe both.”

He stops for a second, lips pressed into a thin line, then he nods. Slowly, with his cheeks turning a little pink. “I’ll do both.”

“Can I watch?”

He rolls his tiny blue eyes, “give me the gummy.”

So you give him a gummy, 100 mg and you watch his face crunch up in slight disgust. But he eats all, and you walk behind him, while he takes his shirt off. He doesn’t give you a show but he’s extra slow, enjoying how your eyes rake against his chest, focused on the trail of blonde hair going down his boxers. 

When he takes them off, your skin prickles. “Mhm…tell me when you begin to feel warm.”

“You won’t shower with me?”

You expect the edibles to take a little longer, but you begin to see him lose computer as he turns the faucet on, just sliding it to luke-warm. You strip, and he gets inside, letting the water splash against his back. For a second you forget about the edibles in his system, and continue to scrub your body down until foam is lathered across your body. 

When you look up, his eyes are red, and he’s simply staring at you. “It actually…feels good.”

“Does it?”

He nods, very eagerly. And a warm feeling crosses your body as you switch spots with him. When you wash all the soap away, you take the rag, and press it against his body, dragging it along his toned muscles, adrmiring the way his skin turns a little pink. A tiny sound escapes from his mouth, and you try not to smile. 

“Let’s sit, baby,” You coax softly, until you’re both on the floor of the tub, and water splashes around you. He rests his back on your chest, nearly taking up all the space, legs open. “You want to feel good, nanamin?”

He hums, relaxing against your body, and your hands slide down his twitching stomach. Your fingers ghost around his cock, barely pressing the shaft, not until a soft whine leaves his lips. His hips buck into the air, pressing into the palm of your hand, and you grip his cock, sliding up and down. 

“Fuc–fuck,” he whimpers, “feels…so sensitive.”

“I know, baby.” and his cock twitches in your hand, precum spilling out of the head, lathering the angry, red head. You admire the veins along his cock, and the way he’s twitching in your hands, borderline whining and so so pliant. 

Cum dripples down the slit, and you coat his cock, until the shaft is sparkling. Your quick to slide down until you’re cupping his balls, giving them a tiny squeeze that has his back arching. An intrusive though runs through your mind, and the other hand travels to his nipples, thub swiping the rough pad, on his nipples.

A shiver runs through Nanami’s skin, and he sucks in sharp breath, hips trusting into the air. You move your hand from his pelvis, and you lick at the shell of his ear, nosing at his hair, until you can smell sweat, skin, and soap. “Want to do something for me, daddy?”

He nods, quickly and feverishly, moaning outloud, “tell me baby, anything…”

“Why don’t you show me how you fuck me…?” you breathe out, “C’mon, daddy, thust your hips.”

And he’s quick to thrust into the air, hips flexing into the air, cock bobbing as you see drool slide down his chin. Slick rolls down your cunt, and your fingers twitch, watching Nanami fuck the air, tiny whines and moans bouncing around the bathroom tiles. 

“You feel so go–good, baby,” He babbles, with a shattered moan while your you twirl and flick the tiny buds around your finger. 

One of your hand comes down, and you’re quick to slap his cock, feeling goosegumps curl against his skin. A sharp hiss leaves his lips, yet his stomach tightens, and his thrust become more erratic like he’s actually fucking you. “That’s it daddy,” you gasp, rubbing your cunt against his back. 

You aren’t focused on your pleasure though, you want to see him cry a little. “‘m goi–”

“Stop.” The word flies out of your mouth as your hands quickly squeeze the hea do his cock, index and thumb, tightly wrapped around. 

A shuddered gasp leaves his lips, and his back caves his. Nanami’s balls twitch, and he stops, slowly blinking away tears. A soft whimper crawls from his throat and he’s quick to collapse into you, head turning, as the rush of an orgasm fizzes away. 

“Start, again, daddy,” You whisper pressing a kiss at the crown of his head. This time you slide from his head to the shaft, full hand wrapping around just softly. “Fuck my fist.”

Nanami, slowly thrust into your hand, thick globs of precum sliding from the red slit, while he bucks, and your fingers keep assaulting his nipples. They’re a pretty color now, all red and puffy, like you’ve sucked on them for an hour. His moans get higher and longer, switching from deep gasps to pathetic whimpers.

“So good for me, daddy.” You preen at him, “I can feel you twitching on my fingers.”

And he nods, all fucked out and spacy, hips jolting, until you squeeze just a little bit, and his lower body his flying off the tub, ropes of cum hitting his stomach, and falling back into his body. A sharp-cry leaves nanami’s lips, and he’s back on your chest. 

You smile seeing tiny tears lathering his pink cheeks. “Wasn’t that really good?” 

Nanami hums, slowly turning to nuzzle his face on your neck. “Real…fucking good.”