velvetsserenity

[velvetsserenity]

ur so cool omg just read all ur work

thank yewww I feel honored 😍

[velvetsserenity]

Can you do one of where Sevika is very dominant and very frustrated at s/o for talking shit to her all day!!(i neeeeed it please) love your stories 💕

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took me a while to write it, but I hope you like it! I changed it a bit: instead of the reader talking about Sevika, it's just s/o teasing her. I hope that's OK? I had a hard time writing that part and felt like I didn't write it well.

Industrial Heat

mechanic!sevika x apprentice!reader

✎ word count: 2.7k

꩜ content warnings: rough scissoring , overstimulation, squirting, breast play, hair pulling, spanking, dirty talk, semi-public sex, power imbalance (consensual), manhandling, workshop sex, mild humiliation, reader gets what she asked for

You’d been a complete pain in Sevika’s ass all day at the shop. With it being the off-season, there weren’t many projects to jump in on— especially not with your limited expertise, as Sevika liked to put it. She stuck you with sorting bolts instead, a chaotic mess left over from the last big job. But you couldn’t just sit at that desk all shift doing busywork. You needed to actually do something. So, naturally, you ditched the bolt-sorting and went looking for a better option.

Sevika was still working on one of her bigger projects, some generator for Zaun. Said she was the only one who’d understand how to fix it. You rolled your eyes at her when she told you so last week. Yet she was still puffing and groaning each time she worked on it, and from your point of view there was little to no process. Also her attitude was getting worse, which was also a sign you learned years ago when you first started working for her. 

You twisted around on the high chair, looking over to Sevika with a bored expression. She was bent over the generator fixing god knows what inside of it. A white tank top stained with oil and sweat, baggy jeans where she held a dirty cloth in her pocket. Heavy boots you could hear from miles away approaching. 

Instead you had decided this morning when you heard of your boring task you could instead do something more useful, at least to your own entertainment. 

It started in the morning, where Sevika asked you to sort out the cabinets holding all the tools. Sevika loved her own routine and hated when anything went differently than planned. So it would be an absolute great idea to misplace every tool she needed for today's shift. 

‘’Where’s the welding torch?’’ She looked around a bit more before her gaze landed on you, not suspecting anything yet.

You looked up from cleaning out another cabinet. 

‘’Though I put it over there, somewhere.’’ You pointed to the other side of the shop. Sevika followed your gaze before looking back at you again, you already turned back to the cabinet again. 

‘’I’d rather you put the tools back immediately after cleaning, saves us both the trouble.’’ She sighs as she walks over to the other side of the shop. 

You grinned as Sevika walked over to grab the welding torch. The music was just hard enough to mask your footsteps as you sneaked up to her workbench. Grabbing some bolts and a screwdriver from her workstation. You quickly looked back up to where Sevika was to notice her back was still turned onto you, yes, didn't caught onto anything. 

You sat back down again, like nothing happened. You heard Sevika grunt behind you as she took her spot again. 

The next ten minutes were glorious.

You barely made it through organizing another drawer of nonsense before you heard it.

Clang. A muffled “What the fuck—”

You turned innocently on your stool, head tilted like a confused little puppy. “Everything okay, boss?”

Sevika shot you a narrow look from over her shoulder. The welding torch now sat neatly on the bench, but her hand was rummaging through a small compartment that was supposed to have a set of bolts. “Did you move my M6s?”

You blinked. “Your what?”

Her eyes rolled so hard you half-expected them to fall out of her head. “My bolts. Medium. Silver ones. Labeled.”

You swiveled lazily back to your “sorting,” drawing out the silence like a stretched rubber band. “Hmm… I might’ve put them in the top left drawer? Or maybe the bottom right. Kinda all blends together after a while.” You said it with just enough faux-innocence to sound like you meant well. But she knew better. She always knew better.

The sound of a metal drawer being yanked open had you biting back a grin.

It was by far the most satisfying. Not just because she’d clearly noticed— but because she hadn’t stopped you yet. That meant you could keep going.

So you did.

A few minutes later, Sevika turned away from the generator to grab a ratchet, only to find that particular tool mysteriously missing, too.

“Are you kidding me,” she muttered under her breath, arms bracing on the table, head dipped low like she needed a moment before she committed a felony.

You didn’t even look up from where you were “sorting” a group of mismatched washers. “You know, Sev, if you just labeled your workbench drawers like a normal person, maybe you wouldn’t lose everything.”

“I didn’t lose shit,” she grunted.

“No? Because from over here, it kinda looks like you’re doing more grumbling than fixing.”

That earned you a look. A long, slow one that had her full frame turning toward you, elbow perched on the bench, wiping sweat off her temple with the back of her hand. Her jaw ticked. “Maybe if someone wasn’t fucking around with my tools—”

“—Our tools,” you interjected sweetly.

Sevika’s glare could’ve melted steel. “You want a wrench to the head?”

You shrugged. “I’d rather the ratchet, honestly. It’s missing anyway, right?”

She exhaled sharply through her nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably bored, yeah,” you sighed dramatically, stretching your arms overhead, making a show of arching your back and yawning wide. You peeked over at her mid-yawn just to see if she was looking. She was. “You could at least let me weld something. I’m not that bad.”

“You caught a rag on fire last time.”

“Yeah, well. Fire happens. Builds character.”

She was walking over before you could get another word in, boots loud and fast and full of attitude. You straightened just in time for her to lean down, one hand bracing the table beside you, the other gripping the back of your chair.

Her face was close. Not kiss-you close. But close enough to feel the heat of her frustration, and maybe a flicker of something else underneath it.

“You want something to do?” she asked lowly, voice like thunder about to crack.

You blinked up at her. “Obviously.”

Something in her jaw flexed. Her eyes dropped to your mouth, just for a split second and when they came back up, they were darker. Rougher. That tension she always carried between her shoulder blades rolled down her spine and snapped taut like wire. And before you could so much as flash a smug grin—

She grabbed you.

Fingers curled hard around the front of your shirt as she yanked you up from the stool, chair screeching back with a violent scrape. You barely got your footing before she spun you and slammed your chest against the edge of the worktable, the impact sending tools clattering across the surface.

“Fucking—Sevika—!”

You barely got the words out, breath caught somewhere between startled and thrilled. She was already on you, crowding in, one thigh pressing between yours, her hand shoving up under your shirt like it belonged there. Which, to be fair, it kind of did by now.

You tried to shift, to glance over your shoulder, but her palm flattened between your shoulder blades and shoved you down just a little more. Not painfully. Just enough to remind you where you were.

Her hand slipped under your shirt again. 

“Since you wanna be such a fucking distraction,” she muttered, dragging your top up past your ribs, “guess I should remind you what happens when you act out of order.’’

You gasped as the rough pad of her hand cupped your chest, fingers spreading wide, greedy. , She didn’t warm you up,  didn’t tease or coo or ease you into it. Sevika grabbed your breast like she owned it, fingers squeezing until your back arched up into her grip with a helpless sound.

“There she is,” she growled, lips curling as she pressed her chest against your back, hand tugging your shirt up fully to bunch at your shoulders. “Knew you’d melt the second I got my hands on you.”

Your breath hitched as she pinched your nipple tight, deliberate, twisting just enough to make you squirm with a half-whimper that cracked into a moan.

“You like that?” she rasped.

You nodded fast, cheek pressed to the cool table, fingers curling over the edge. “Yes—fuck, yes—”

Another twist, sharper this time. She tugged and rolled the sensitive bud between her fingers, pulling your body back into hers until your ass was flush against her hips.

“Then take it.”

Her voice was hoarse, raw. She palmed your other breast now, groping both like she couldn’t decide which one deserved her attention more. Each squeeze pulled a new whine out of your throat, every twist of your nipples sending heat crashing through you like wildfire. There was nothing slow about it, no gentle rhythm, just Sevika’s calloused fingers using you like she’d been holding back all day and finally let go.

Your thighs trembled. Your breath stuttered.

“Fuck, Sev—please—”

“Please what?” she purred against your ear, leaning over you fully now, hips grinding slow between your legs, dragging friction right over where you needed her most. “You wanted my attention so bad. All those little games. All that mouth. And now you’re whining like you don’t know what to do with it.”

“I—I need you—”

Her hand left your chest so suddenly it made you cry out. She grabbed your hips again, yanked you back an inch, and you heard the click of her zipper like a death knell.

“Good,” she muttered.

“Because I’ve got a lot of steam to blow off.”

You barely had time to breathe before Sevika spun you around again, her hands rough under your thighs as she hauled you up onto the worktable properly this time. Tools clattered to the floor. Something rolled off and hit the tile with a metallic clang. Neither of you gave a shit.

Your legs spread open instinctively, inviting, desperate and Sevika stepped in with a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Fucking brat,” she growled, yanking your shirt over your head and tossing it aside like it offended her. Her palms were back on your chest immediately, gripping, squeezing, pinching like she couldn’t decide whether to punish you or ruin you. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You whined, hips lifting shamelessly toward her. “You’re the one who hasn’t touched me all day,” you gasped out. “Not my fault you’re all backed up and cranky.”

Her nostrils flared. Her hand cracked across your tit in a rough slap that made you yelp, then moan, your head falling back.

“You think I won’t shut that mouth for good?”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, breath still ragged. “Bet you’re too worked up to last that long.”

That did it.

Sevika growled, low and animal, and stripped both you and her. Then let her thigh slot between yours. Then she grabbed you by the hips, dug her fingers in and dragged you down to the edge of the bench. You barely got a word out before she threw one leg up onto the table beside you, straddling your thigh, hips tilted and already slick.

And then she started grinding.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was fucking feral.

The second your soaked cunt made contact with hers, Sevika let out a sharp, guttural moan and her hands locked around your thighs, shoving them open wider, locking your legs around her waist. She fucked her hips forward without rhythm or mercy, dragging wet, messy friction between your folds, clit grinding against clit like she was trying to mark you with the heat of her body.

You cried out, legs spasming from the sudden intensity. “S-Sevika—fuck—”

“Shut up,” she hissed through her teeth, breathless and furious. “You wanted my attention? You’ve got it. Take it.”

Your back arched. The workbench creaked under you. She was relentless, every grind deep and punishing, her wet folds slapping hot and fast against yours, your slicks mixing into something obscene. Her muscles flexed with every thrust, arm braced next to your head, chest heaving as she watched you fall apart beneath her.

But you didn’t stop teasing, not even when your voice cracked.

“Y-you’re… fuck, you’re grinding like a bitch in heat—”

Sevika slammed her hips forward hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“Oh, I’m the bitch?” she spat, eyes wild. “Look at you. Legs wide open, begging for it. Whining like a little toy and still running that mouth.”

You whimpered, gasping, fingers clawing at her back for purchase. “Y-you like it—fuck, your cunt’s dripping for me—”

“Because I earned it,” she growled. “All you did was piss me off all goddamn day and now you’re getting what you deserve.”

Your moan cracked on the last note as she ground down again, catching your clit just right. Your whole body jerked beneath her, overwhelmed and overstimulated, as she doubled down, thighs flexed, hips rolling tighter, harder, chasing both your peaks like she didn’t give a fuck whether you were ready or not.

“I’m gonna ride you,” Sevika panted, dragging her wet cunt harder against yours, “until that bratty little smirk’s fucked off your face.”

You were already close. Could feel it coiling in your gut like fire ready to snap and still, through your moans, you managed a breathless giggle.

“D-do your worst.”

Sevika snarled.

Then— fuck— her mouth dropped to your chest.

Without warning, her lips wrapped around your nipple, hot and wet, and she sucked. Hard.

Your back arched off the table like it was on fire.

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck—” you gasped, fingers flying to her hair, dragging her in, keeping her there as her tongue swirled rough circles over your nipple, then her teeth bit down, and your cry nearly echoed out into the street.

Sevika moaned right against your skin, deep and raw, grinding down even harder now, panting into your chest like a woman possessed.

“You feel that?” she growled, dragging her mouth to your other breast. “You fucking feel me dripping on you? This wet little cunt you made such a mess of—”

“Y-yeah—fuck—I c-can’t—!”

Your thighs started shaking, clenching tight around her waist, and you knew you were right there hanging off the edge, completely undone.

Then Sevika bit your nipple again, sucked it deep, and her hips rutted in one perfect grind.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a goddamn train.

You screamed her name ,choking on it, back arched, thighs locked, hands clawing at the bench and her shoulders and anything you could grab as pleasure exploded through your core

It gushed between your legs with no warning, wet and hot and everywhere, soaking the inside of Sevika’s thigh and the bench beneath you, a mess you couldn’t even be embarrassed about because your mind had gone completely blank.

Sevika felt it, and the snarl she let out was feral.

“Oh fuck— you dirty little thing—”

She ground her hips through it, her own body shuddering, and then she came. Her breath punching out of her, hips jerking wildly, clit grinding hard against yours as she collapsed forward into you with a guttural, unrestrained moan. Her body trembled against yours as she rode out every last pulse, forcing your still-clenching cunt to grind against hers through the aftershocks, drawing out another slick gush from between your thighs.

By the time her motions finally slowed, you were both drenched in sweat, slick, and something that definitely wasn’t sweat puddling under your ass on the bench.

She stayed on top of you for a minute, catching her breath, her mouth still lazily mouthing at your tits, softer now, messier. Not sucking, just… staying there. Maybe pretending this whole place wasn’t covered in your combined filth.

Your fingers were still tangled in her hair.

“…So,” you managed weakly, blinking up at the ceiling. “Still mad?”

Sevika exhaled a long, low breath against your chest.

Then she licked your nipple again slow and mean.

“Ask me again after you mop the fucking floor.”

plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

could u do a quickie with jinx in the morning before you both have u get up and take care of isha?

of course !! here u go ❤︎

messy mornings

jinx x f!reader

✎ word count: 2k

꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, scissoring, F/F relationship, domestic fluff, grinding, making out

The first thing you felt was heat.

Not the biting, chemical kind that sometimes crept up from the vents in the floorboards of the Undercity, but the kind that pressed itself close—alive, breathing, wrapping around you in lazy, unbothered stillness. There was an arm draped over your waist, a knee wedged between your legs, and long hair sprawled across your chest like threads of blue silk.

Jinx.

You blinked up at the dim ceiling of her hideout, eyes still heavy with sleep. A single soft groan escaped your throat when you shifted slightly and felt her tighten her grip instinctively, nuzzling closer. The sheet had slipped off sometime during the night, and the both of you lay half-twisted in the middle of her mattress, tangled limbs and tangled lives. The air was cool, but the heat between your bodies kept it at bay.

You could hear Zaun outside, barely. A low, distant thrum of turbines. Pipes breathing. Someone yelling far off, muffled by brick and steam. But inside, it was still.

Safe.

She was still asleep, her breath brushing slow and steady against your skin. Lips parted. A faint smudge of oil smeared across her cheek. One hand lay flat over your stomach, twitching every so often like her dreams hadn’t quite let go of her. Her lashes fluttered, but didn’t open.

She looked… softer like this. Less chaos, more girl.

You let your eyes wander over her, blue hair everywhere, inked lines of her tattoos trailing down her arm, collarbone rising and falling against your own. She’d thrown a leg over yours like she always did, half-possessive, half-habit, like she needed to anchor herself to something before sleep could take her.

You didn’t move. Not yet.

The moment felt too still to break.

You reached up slowly and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Her skin was warm. Her jaw slack. A smear of pink lip gloss still clung faintly to the edge of her mouth from the night before. You wondered how she had the energy to be that wild and still fall asleep in your arms like  she didn’t have a care in the world.

Your fingers brushed lightly down her spine, tracing the curve of her back.

Your gaze had settled on her lips. Slightly parted, soft despite the chapped edges, tinted with the faintest stain of that garish pink she liked to smear on just to kiss it off again later. The same lips that had been biting at your shoulder hours ago, grinning around every kiss like a secret joke was tucked between her teeth.

You didn't notice she'd woken up until the weight of her gaze pulled you back.

When you looked up, she was watching you, awake, quiet, wide violet eyes fixed on yours like you were the only thing that existed. Like she'd already been staring for a while.

There was no smirk. No tease. Just her, blinking slow, lashes casting delicate shadows down her cheekbones, pupils dilated and swimming in a sea of electric purple.

You froze.

“Caught ya,” she mumbled, voice still raspy with sleep, a smile finally tugging at one corner of her mouth.

You opened your mouth to argue, because of course she’d turn something quiet and warm into something Jinx, but her leg tightened around your waist before you could speak, her hand flattening against your stomach with intent.

“Do it again,” she whispered.

“…What?”

Her smile softened. “That spine thing. Felt nice.”

You let your palm settle back on her back, slower this time, dragging down her bare skin with featherlight pressure. She let out a breath, eyelids fluttering, lashes catching the light. Her forehead touched yours.

The world outside didn’t matter right now. The turbines. The yelling. Even the strange hum of some distant machinery starting up, none of it touched this moment.

You leaned forward just a little.

“You’re dangerous,” you murmured, lips nearly brushing hers.

“Mmhm,” she grinned, eyes still locked on yours. “So’re you. That’s why I like you.”

And then she kissed you. Slow, deliberate, tasting like sleep and heat and last night’s chaos, like everything she was when she wasn’t exploding something or chasing ghosts.

Soft chaos. Yours, right now.

And gods help you, you kissed her back.

Jinx shifted, slow and easy like the weight of sleep hadn’t quite left her bones, and swung one leg fully over your hips. The movement sent the thin sheet tumbling off entirely, pooling uselessly at the edge of the mattress. She settled herself down in your lap, thighs bracketing your waist, arms resting on either side of your head as she hovered just long enough to flash you a grin, mischievous now.

Her lips were already back on yours before you could speak, warm and insistent, tasting like heat and sugar and danger. She kissed like she did everything else— hungrily, with teeth, like she was afraid the moment might vanish if she didn’t bite down and claim it.

Your hands found her waist automatically, fingers sliding over warm skin, tracing the dip of her back before slipping down to her hips. She ground against you slowly, deliberately, like she wanted to feel every inch of where your bodies touched. A low breath hitched from her throat when your hands slid lower, palming her ass and pulling her tighter against you.

"Mmnh— yeah," she murmured into your mouth, hips rolling down again with more pressure. “That’s it.”

You broke the kiss just long enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, gasping softly as she ground herself against your lap, slow and wet and needy through the thin fabric clinging between you. Jinx didn’t give you a second to breathe, she just followed, mouth back on yours, hands dragging through your hair now, knotting tight as her body pressed flush to yours.

Her pace wasn’t frenzied. Not yet. Just slow, lazy drags of heat and friction, the kind of rhythm that came from comfort, from familiarity, from waking up tangled in the sheets and not needing anything more than the other person breathing under your skin.

You squeezed her hips harder, lifting yours just enough to meet her grind, and she gasped into your mouth—soft and high and real.

"Fuck," she whispered, breath ragged now. “I like mornings.”

You chuckled, voice rough. “You like this.”

She leaned back just a little, propping herself up on your chest, violet eyes wide and electric now, grinning down at you like she’d just gotten away with something. Her hair was a wild mess around her shoulders, blue strands sticking to her skin, and her cheeks were flushed—sleep or lust or both, you couldn’t tell.

“You look stupid pretty right now,” she said, breathless and bold. “You know that?”

You lifted a brow. “You’re straddling me half-naked and that’s your line?”

“It’s morning,” she said, biting her lip. “My brain’s still booting up.”

You rolled your hips again and she gasped, blinking hard like you short-circuited her thoughts. Her nails dug into your shoulders, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Okay, fuck— that’s not fair—”

You grinned up at her now. “Boot up faster, trouble.”

Jinx grinned, lips still flushed and kiss-swollen as she leaned back just enough to look at you fully. Then without warning her hands slid down your thigh, fingers curling tight as she lifted your leg and hooked it around her waist.

The motion pulled your hips up, bending you slightly, pushing your back more firmly against the mattress. The angle changed everything, how she fit over you, how your cunts aligned now, how your breath hitched hard in your chest when she leaned forward and pressed herself down.

The heat of her was immediate. Intimate.

You could feel her, bare and warm and slick against you. The thin barrier of teasing was gone. Her thighs bracketed yours as she rolled her hips in a slow, deliberate grind, and the friction sent a tremor straight through your spine.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed.

Jinx’s mouth hovered just above yours now, her hair falling like a curtain around your faces, a wild blue veil. Her eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, blown wide and dark with want, but still lit with that spark only she had— dangerous, electric, alive.

“Feel that?” she whispered, her voice a husky rasp.

She rolled her hips again, slow and perfect, and your leg tightened around her automatically, holding her closer. Your hands fisted in the sheets for a moment, then found her hips again, helping her move. Helping her grind.

It was almost too much, the slick heat, the pressure, the stretch of your bodies pressing flush like that. The tension was maddening. Jinx moaned low in her throat, and it sounded surprised, like even she hadn’t expected it to feel this good.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. “Fuck. I could die right here.”

You couldn’t speak. You could barely think.

She ducked down, lips brushing your jaw, your cheek, your ear. Breathless, hot, her whole body trembling slightly with every slow grind against you.

Her voice broke on a laugh. “And you were watching me sleep like some lovesick puppy…”

Your nails dragged down her back and she shuddered.

“You talk too much.”

She grinned, sharp and breathless. “Yeah? Shut me up then.”

You crushed her mouth to yours, hips rising, breath ragged.

Jinx rocked against you, her pace uneven now, more desperate. Her forehead pressed to yours, and her breath came in shallow gasps, lips brushing yours with each one. You could feel her thighs trembling, her whole body tense and close to the edge.

Your hips met hers with equal urgency, chasing the friction, the heat, the shuddering promise curling in your stomach. Your leg squeezed tighter around her waist, bodies slick and sliding and shaking, until—

“Oh—” Jinx choked out, breath hitching, hips stuttering as her body tensed fully. “Fuck, fuck—”

You came with her.

It hit like a jolt through your spine, pleasure rippling out in waves, muscles tightening, hands fisting hard in the sheets or maybe her hips, you couldn’t tell anymore. 

You felt her break apart on top of you, her moan muffled against your shoulder, both ofyou grinding through it, tangled, breathless, there.

When it passed, she collapsed fully on top of you with a laugh. A messy, wrecked, breathless giggle.

“Okay,” she panted. “That was. Yeah. Yep.”

You laughed too, breathless and hoarse, still tangled together, limbs shaking and hearts hammering against each other’s chests. She shifted slightly and winced with a satisfied noise, flopping to one side but keeping her leg draped over you like a stubborn cat.

“Morning,” she whispered with a grin.

You were about to answer, maybe something teasing, maybe just another kiss when the sound of a crash echoed from the kitchen. Sharp. Shattering.

Then, a pause.

Then more clattering, metal-on-tile chaos, and something that definitely sounded like a pan being dragged across the floor.

You both groaned in unison.

“…Isha,” you said, closing your eyes.

“That sounded like a plate,” Jinx muttered, arm covering her face dramatically. “Why does she always break the ceramic ones? We have, like, plastic.”

“She thinks she’s helping.”

“She thinks she’s a chef,” Jinx countered, sitting up slightly and squinting toward the hallway, voice still raspy with sleep and sweat.

You snorted, already pushing her off with a hand to her side. “Go shower. I’ll deal with her.”

Jinx flopped back down with a whine. “Ughhhh. Can’t we just barricade the door and starve instead?”

“Shower, Jinx.”

“Only if you come in after.”

You gave her a pointed look as you pulled on the nearest piece of clothing you could find, her shirt, inside out. “If I survive whatever mess she’s making, we’ll renegotiate.”

She blew you a kiss dramatically. “Deal. Save me a pancake.”

You were already halfway out the door when she called after you:

“And tell her not to use the microwave again! I swear last time she made eggs explode!”

You sighed. Deeply.

This was your life.

And honestly?

You loved it.

plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

Thank you so much for the Sevika fic its so so good 💓💓💓💓💓💓

thank you! I’m glad you liked it. 🤍

[velvetsserenity]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic with Sevika where the size difference with the reader is emphasized? Not in an odd way but sevika being 6’1 and so muscular and nobody talks about it, it’s unfair 🥲

Thank you for your ask! Sorry it took me awhile to write & publish it! Hope you like it. ❤︎

overshadowed

sevika x f!reader

✎ word count: 2.3k

꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, size difference, strap-on use, oral sex through underwear (reader receiving) , vibrator use, mild overstimulation, aftercare

The door slammed shut behind you with a thud that rattled the hinges, but neither of you noticed. You were too tangled up in Sevika’s hands, her mouth, the low laugh that hummed against your lips when you fumbled with the lock and missed, twice.

“Cute,” she murmured, her breath hot against your cheek, before she caught your jaw with a single, calloused hand and tilted your face back up to hers.

She was so much taller than you. Always had been, always would be. It wasn’t something either of you brought up,  but it was felt. In the way you had to tilt your head back to meet her gaze. In the way her shadow fell over you when she stepped close, broad shoulders blotting out the world behind her. In the way your hands could never quite wrap all the way around her bicep, no matter how tight you tried to cling.

She kissed you again— hard, hungry, like she needed to stake her claim from the front door all the way to the bedroom. You barely had a second to breathe before your back hit the hallway wall with a soft thud, her thigh pressing between your legs like she belonged there. Like you belonged to her.

"Can't even make it down the damn hall," she said against your mouth, not that it stopped her. Her lips were slick with yours. Her voice rough, rumbling, a storm building in her throat. “Look at you. So desperate.”

You whimpered, hands sliding up beneath her jacket, only to clutch the solid wall of her back. Muscles met your fingers wherever they searched.h. And still, you wanted more.

Sevika chuckled again as she pulled away just enough to see you, and fuck, she took up the whole damn hallway. The lights from the ceiling couldn't touch you anymore, not with the way she towered above you, built like a weapon, eyes half-lidded and locked on your mouth like she was ready to break it open again.

"Bedroom," you whispered, breathless. Begging.

She didn’t answer. Just scooped an arm around your waist and practically lifted you forward, guiding you in a stumbling walk down the hall as you both kept kissing, bumping into doorframes, laughing when your shoulder hit the edge of the wall and Sevika growled like she might tear it down for getting in the way.

By the time your knees hit the edge of the bed, Sevika wasn’t letting go.

You landed on your back with a bounce, hair spilling across the sheets. Your shirt was halfway up your ribs, chest heaving, lips kiss-swollen and open for her again. Always open.

Sevika stood above you, and the sight alone made you ache. Her frame filled the doorway of your shared bedroom, broad arms planted against either side of the frame like she needed to brace herself, like she was too big to even fit. Shadows clung to her chest, her arms, the hard lines of muscle that shifted and stretched beneath her skin.

And then she moved forward.

Climbing onto the bed felt like watching a storm roll in— slow, inevitable. Her body blocked the light from the bedside lamp. You sucked in a breath as her knees caged your hips and her arms bracketed your shoulders. The room dimmed beneath her. All you could see was her.

All muscle, all heat, all Sevika.

Her mouth caught yours again in a kiss that melted every part of you. She tasted like whiskey and iron and the last time she said “I love you” without words. You hooked your fingers into the crooks of her arms, your nails biting into the slope of her bicep, desperate to hold on, to stay tethered to the overwhelming, grounding weight of her body above yours.

She groaned into your mouth when you did that, like it tugged something low from her chest and shifted even closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space between you.

"Fuck," she whispered, her voice gone gravel-soft as she leaned down to press a line of kisses along your jaw, your throat, the edge of your collarbone. "You're so small like this."

You gasped. She kissed lower.

"Mine."

Sevika’s mouth dragged lower, teeth grazing the skin just above your chest before her lips soothed the bite. Then she was kissing down your stomach, deliberate and slow like she had nowhere to be but between your thighs, like the path to get there deserved worship too.

Your fingers threaded through her thick hair, pulling gently, desperate for more. You felt tiny beneath her but never more than when she pinned your hips with one massive hand, her palm splayed wide across your stomach like it belonged there.

“You shaking already?” she muttered, voice half-mocking, half-affectionate. “Haven’t even touched you yet.”

She kissed just above the waistband of your pants and you whimpered— a soft, desperate sound that had her smirking against your skin. With one tug, she had them undone, and then it was all her, her hands, her strength, lifting your hips like they were weightless and dragging your pants down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your soaked underwear.

You barely had time to breathe before she tossed your legs over her shoulders like nothing, like you were a pillow in her lap. The stretch of it made your thighs tense, but Sevika kept her hands steady on your hips, holding you open, holding you still.

And then her mouth was on you.

Through the fabric.

The first drag of her tongue against your panties was slow and intentional, pressing hard against the soaked fabric and making you jerk. She groaned low, deep in her throat, the vibration of it sending shivers all the way up your spine.

“Already wet?” she teased, kissing over the drenched center again, lips warm and slick against cotton. “Fuckin’ mess.”

You whined, trying to shift, but she wasn’t letting you go anywhere. Her hands held your thighs firm against her broad shoulders, arms thick and flexed as she pushed your legs wider apart. You couldn’t close them even if you tried. She was everywhere. All you could feel was muscle, grip, tongue.

The next lick was slower, from the bottom of your panties all the way to the top. Her tongue pressing right where you needed it, soaking the fabric even more. She didn’t move it aside. Not yet. No, Sevika liked the way it clung to you. Liked how ruined it was getting. Liked how you were panting and squirming with nothing but a few inches of cloth between her and your bare pussy.

“You gonna come like this?” she murmured, mouthing at your clothed cunt, letting her teeth graze just barely over the swell of your folds beneath the fabric. “Fuckin’ soaked through already. Keep grinding on my face, baby.”

You couldn’t even form words. Your hips were twitching, lifting just enough to chase her mouth, and she let you, let you fuck yourself against her tongue like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Her hands never loosened. She held you down, muscles shifting against your skin as she worked you open through the mess she was making of your underwear.

Your breath hitched when her tongue pressed right against your clit still through the soaked cotton, enough to make your back arch, your fingers clench the sheets, your moan break in your throat.

She looked up at you then, still mouthing you slowly, wetly, messily. Her eyes were dark and glazed, jaw working against the heat of you like she was starved.

“Gonna rip these,” she growled, voice barely coherent, breath hot through the wet fabric. “Gonna fucking ruin you.”

The heat of her breath lingered even as she pulled back, her face damp with your arousal. She looked down at you flushed, panting, barely able to keep your legs from shaking off her shoulders and grinned. That slow, lopsided smirk that always meant trouble.

“Stay like that.”

You barely had time to process before she reached over to the night table with one arm, the other still holding you steady. The drawer slid open with a loud clack, and she pulled out the strap— thick, dark, already fitted with the harness she liked best. Your breath caught.

She didn’t need to rush. She knew she had you, splayed out, panties soaked to the point of being see-through, thighs still draped over her shoulders. You watched, dazed and desperate, as she stood and rolled the harness up her legs, tightening the straps like she’d done it a thousand times.

And then her hand moved lower between her own legs pressing a small, slick vibe against her clit beneath the harness.

“Fuck,” Sevika hissed under her breath, voice cracking low in her throat. She tilted her hips slightly, rolling against the toy for a second with her eyes fluttered shut. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Then she was back between your legs.

She didn’t bother removing your panties. Just hooked her fingers into the side and dragged the soaked fabric to the side, exposing your dripping pussy while the ruined material stayed bunched, biting into your thigh. Her eyes dropped. She groaned deep.

“Look at this fuckin’ mess,” she rasped, lining herself up. “All mine.”

The stretch hit firs, slow, thick, relentless  as she pushed inside in one smooth, deep stroke, the strap filling you until your eyes rolled back and your fingers scrabbled to find purchase. She didn’t give you time to adjust. Just reached up, took your legs, and folded you back.

The mating press hit deep.

Your knees were nearly pressed to your chest, ankles caught in the crooks of her elbows as she leaned in, her massive body pinning you down completely, her chest brushing yours, all muscle and heat and control. She blocked out everything. The world could’ve burned down around you and all you’d know was the pressure of her cock inside you and the weight of her body grinding over yours.

Each thrust was devastating.

Deep, slow, dragging along every nerve inside you. The sound of wet skin meeting skin filled the room, sticky and obscene. yYour soaked panties clinging to one side, the rest of you trembling beneath her. You couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop arching. Couldn’t stop clenching around her strap like you were trying to keep her inside forever.

One hand braced beside your head. The other still rubbing that little vibrator against her clit through the harness, her jaw tight, breath ragged.

She looked completely undone, strands of hair clinging to her forehead, body heaving with effort, arms flexing as she kept you exactly where she wanted. Her hips bucked harder, grinding deep on every stroke. You could feel how worked up she was, not just from the toy, but from the way you gasped and clung to her arms like they were your lifeline.

“You feel that?” she growled, voice broken against your ear as she fucked into you deeper, faster, pace snapping now with brutal rhythm. “Taking every inch of me. So tight. So fuckin’ good for me.”

You were already gone. Slurring her name, breath catching on every thrust, your thighs trembling against her sides. You tried to speak, tried to beg but all that came out were ragged, breathless sounds and the high, broken edge of a moan as her cock anlged just right, hitting the spot that made you cry out.

She felt it.

Sevika groaned through gritted teeth, biting down on her lip, legs trembling now too as the vibe worked her closer. Her hips stuttered for a second then she shoved in harder, deeper, grinding into you until the bed creaked beneath both your bodies.

“Come for me,” she growled, hand shaking where it clutched your thigh, her voice like gravel as the toy buzzed harder. “Come all over my cock, baby. Let me feel it.”

And you did, clenching hard around her, body shaking, choking on a sob of pleasure as your orgasm crashed through you. She never let up. Not for a second. She rode you through it, panting now, her own body twitching as she pushed the vibe harder against her clot, grinding once, twice until her mouth dropped open in a silent groan and she froze above you, shaking with release.

For a moment, the room was nothing but panting, sweat, and the creak of the bed under two tangled bodies.

Sevika pulled out slowly, her breath still ragged, the strap slick between your thighs. You twitched beneath her, legs trembling, and she pressed a kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “Easy, baby. I got you.”

She tossed the harness to the side, wiped you clean with a towel she found by the bed gentle, wordless. Then she climbed in beside you and opened her arms.

You didn’t hesitate.

Her body was huge and warm, all muscle and heat as she wrapped you up in her chest, her thigh slotted between yours, one hand splayed across your back like she could keep you there forever. You fit under her chin like a secret.

“Don’t move,” you whispered sleepily.

“Wasn’t gonna,” she mumbled back, voice thick with exhaustion. “Stay right here.”

And you did, breathing slow, held tight in her arms, until sleep folded over you both like a second blanket.

plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

arcane woman + kinks vi, caitlyn kiramman, ambessa medarda, mel medarda, jinx, sevika, grayon

content warnings: degradation, spitting, hair pulling, rough fingering, name-calling, power play, face sitting, biting, bruising, strap-on sex, forced orgasm, obedience training, remote-controlled toy, public setting, orgasm denial, protocol kink, guided oral, praise kink, edging, power exchange, overstimulation, bondage, vibrator play, breath play, spanking, control kink, forced restraint

vi | praise + marking

it starts with your back against the wall, vi’s jacket falling somewhere near the door, her hands already under your shirt, and her mouth dragging heat and spit along the side of your neck. you tilt your head back to give her more, and she takes all of it. her lips part, and her teeth sink in—hard. enough to make your hips jerk. “that’s it,” she mutters, voice hoarse against your skin. “you’re fuckin’ perfect.” her hands grip your thighs, lift you up like you weigh nothing, and press you higher into the wall as she grinds her hips between your legs. her strap’s already on like she planned this, and the heat of it rubs against your soaked underwear with every slow roll of her hips. but her mouth never stops moving.

she bites your collarbone next, then your shoulder, then the top of your chest, leaving red, blooming bruises in a trail she traces with her tongue. “you take everything i give you like a fuckin’ dream,” she pants, fingers pulling your panties aside. “all mine, huh?” you nod, breathless. she grins, leans in, and bites again “my good girl.” and when she finally thrusts inside, your back slams the wall, your voice breaks open, and her hand comes up to grab your jaw. “look at you,” she growls, eyes locked on yours. “marked up. moanin’. so fuckin’ good for me.”

every time she fucks into you, she leans in to leave another bruise, another hot, wet bite. and by the time she’s finished, your entire body’s a map of where she’s been. of who you belong to. and vi? she just smiles down at you, all flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “you look so pretty when you’re covered in me.”

caitlyn kiramman | power play + degradation

you’re already on her bed when she enters the room, exactly where she told you to be. back straight, legs folded beneath you, hands resting in your lap. you practiced the position until it became second nature. she shuts the door without looking at you, hangs her coat, unclips the holster at her thigh. her silence makes your skin buzz. you know better than to speak.

“you’re early,” she says, voice perfectly calm. “that’s a start.” you nod once, trying not to fidget. she walks toward you slow, deliberate. her gloves are still on. she leans in, tilts your chin up with two fingers, and studies your face like she’s checking for smudges on glass. “but your posture’s slipping.” you stiffen. her thumb brushes the corner of your mouth. “messy,” she murmurs. “what a shame. you try so hard and still can’t get it right.”

you clench your thighs. she notices. “don’t squirm.”

caitlyn moves behind you, unbuttons the top of your shirt with clinical care. her hand settles at the base of your throat, and her mouth brushes your ear. “how many times did i tell you to wait until i said?” you breathe in sharp. “and yet you touched yourself this morning.”

your stomach flips. “yes, i know,” she says, almost bored. “you’re not as discreet as you think.”

her gloved hand slides down, between your legs, and cups your cunt through thin cotton. you’re already damp. her sigh is so soft it could be disappointment, or approval. “pathetic.” she says it quietly. calmly. like a fact. “can’t even make it one day.”

you’re trembling now. her fingers move with excruciating control. not enough to make you come. just enough to make you ache. “if i let you finish,” she says, dragging your panties down slowly, “it’s because i allowed it. not because you’re desperate. not because you earned it. because i’m feeling generous.”

and when she finally slips her fingers inside, when your mouth opens in a gasp and your head falls back against her shoulder, her voice is still steady, still cruel in that quiet, educated way. “go on, then. let go.”

and you do. shattering beautifully under her calm gaze, just the way she likes you.

ambessa medarda | public control + obedience training

the dining room is warm with candlelight and power. plates clink, crystal sings, and every guest seated at the long table knows your name. they nod to you with respect, even deference. you’re important here. but not to her. to her, you’re a thing to be handled. controlled. ambessa sits at the head of the table, elegant in gold trim and military black. you’re on her left, perfect posture, napkin across your lap, eyes forward. but your body betrays you with every pulse of the plug buried deep inside you. she hasn’t touched the remote in ten minutes. you’ve been clenching around nothing, the toy holding you open while you smile through conversation, while you drink wine you can barely taste.

and then—click. your back straightens. your hand grips the tablecloth. the soft buzz between your legs starts slow, steady. not enough to embarrass you. just enough to keep you wet. no one notices. she leans in slightly, as if to pass you something. her voice is low, delicate. “relax your shoulders, dear.” the diplomat across from you asks a question. you answer it. clearly. gracefully. and all the while, the toy buzzes harder. deeper. crueler. you feel your cunt pulse around it. a fresh wave of slick coats the plug, and your breath catches but you don’t move. you can’t.

ambessa refills her glass. her fingers graze your thigh beneath the table, just for a second. “you’re holding very well,” she murmurs, her lips barely parting. “but if you come…” she sets the bottle down with precision. “…you’ll wear it back to the car. dripping. untouched. and i won’t speak to you for the rest of the night.” your stomach drops. your jaw clenches. your cunt clenches harder. because you want to come. it would take nothing. a shift of your hips. a breath the wrong way. one more pulse of vibration. but you don’t. you endure. because this isn’t pleasure, it’s performance. it’s obedience. her obedience.

the conversation around you flows like wine, unaware that beneath your designer dress, your body is begging, twitching, soaked. unaware that your restraint is a gift ambessa trained into you over weeks of discipline. you glance at her. only once. her mouth curves. not quite a smile. and when she leans over to brush your hair back from your cheek, the toy pulses twice so hard and deep your vision goes white for half a second. your nails dig into your own thigh. you breathe through your nose. you hold.

“very good,” she says aloud, to no one in particular. but you know it’s for you. and it makes you ache worse than anything else she’s done tonight.

mel medarda | sensory play + slow mutual control

it starts with her hand in your hair entle, guiding, not yet controlling. she kisses you like she’s thinking about something else, but her fingers tighten when your tongue brushes hers. when you press her back against the sheets, she exhales like a secret slipping from her throat. “slower,” she murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “make it count.” so you do. you peel her silk robe from her shoulders like you’re unwrapping something dangerous. every inch of her is bare, golden, tense. your fingers ghost along her ribs and her breath stutters soft, involuntary. but when your nails scrape just beneath her breast, she tilts her head and pulls your bottom lip between her teeth. gentle. biting. both.

she lets you undress her completely. lets you drag your mouth over her hip, your hand down the inside of her thigh. she doesn’t stop you when you spread her legs, doesn’t guide your head when you sink lower, but she watches you like you’re on trial. her hand settles on your neck. no pressure. just a reminder. you moan into her when you taste how wet she is already. when you press your tongue flat and slow against her clit, she arches but just a little. just enough to keep your mouth exactly where it is. “right there,” she whispers. your hands grip her thighs tighter. she threads her fingers through your hair. the slow rhythm builds your mouth working, her body softening beneath you, and still she’s holding something back.

so you stop. pull away. breathe against her cunt, warm and wet and deliberate. she gasps, not from pleasure, but from the denial. her fingers dig into your scalp. “don’t you dare.” you smile. kiss the inside of her thigh. “then take it back.” and she does. her hand pushes you down again, thighs tightening around your face, rocking slow and controlled against your mouth like it’s hers now. you moan, and she shudders. you flatten your tongue, and she gasps. and when she comes , slow, breathless, elegant and falling apart. she pulls you up by the collar and kisses you like she owns you.

“lie back,” she says, voice soft but sharp. and when she climbs on top of you, dragging her slick cunt along your stomach with intentional slowness, your hands tremble but you still reach up and take her hips. you guide. and she lets you. for now.

jinx | overstimulation + bondage

you’re strapped down to the bed, legs spread wide, wrists bound tight to the headboard with something that might’ve been a ribbon once but now feels like wire. soft at first. not anymore. jinx is already between your legs, humming something off-key with the vibrator pressed flush to your clit, watching the way your thighs jerk with every jolt of overstimulated nerves. “look at you squirm,” she grins, head tilting as she pushes it harder. “we’re just getting started.”

you sob, breath catching, voice cracking as your fourth orgasm slams through you—no pause, no mercy, just slick and heat and aching pressure that won’t let up. she doesn’t move it away. doesn’t give you time to breathe. “aww,” she coos, “you’re twitchin’ again. that means it’s working!”

your hips try to pull back. the bonds don’t let you. your throat’s raw from moaning. your skin’s damp from sweat.

and then she stops. you gasp. your chest heaves.

she climbs onto your stomach, straddling you, messy and wild and glowing with sweat and chaos. she pulls something out of her pocket. a little brush. some neon paint. “don’t worry,” she grins, dipping the brush in and dragging it across your collarbone, “i’m an artist.”

you can’t even laugh. your whole body pulses from the aftershocks. she draws a little star above your nipple. a jagged smiley face on your thigh.

and then back between your legs. “alright, art break’s over.”

the vibrator’s on before it even touches you again, buzzing high, mean, and constant. you scream. she giggles. “one more. maybe.”

her free hand presses flat over your stomach, pinning you down as you buck and writhe beneath her. “c’mon, bunny,” she whispers, eyes wide and sparkling. “paint the sheets for me.”

and you do. again. again. again. until your legs shake violently, until the toy finally slips from her hand and she lets it fall, lets you collapse into the soaked, ruined bed.

sevika | brat taming + spit

you were mouthing off again. legs spread, lip curled, voice full of heat but no respect. she let you. for a minute. let you talk, let you sneer, let you challenge her like you hadn’t been on your knees for her yesterday, begging to be ruined.

and now?

now you’re facedown on the mattress, one arm twisted behind your back, cheek pressed into the sheets as sevika straddles your thighs from behind. you’re naked. breathless. slick between your legs from nothing but the sound of her voice when she snapped. “you done now?” she mutters, voice low and gravel-dark. her breath hits your ear. her metal hand spreads across your ass like a warning.

you mutter something sarcastic. she grabs your hair, yanks your head back, and before you can even gasp she spits straight into your open mouth. it lands hot on your tongue, and your thighs twitch like they know what’s coming. “swallow it.”

you do. she smiles. then she shifts lower, grinding her soaked cunt against your bare ass, letting you feel how ready she is to put you in your place. “thought you were a tough girl,” she says, grabbing your wrists and shoving them forward. “but you cry like a slut when i get going.”

her fingers are rough when they slam inside you—two at first, then three, scissoring deep while her palm slaps your ass with every thrust. you bite the sheets but it’s no use. you’re soaked. loud. trembling. “you gonna talk back now?” she grunts, pounding into you harder. you moan instead. “didn’t think so.”

and when you finally break—hips jerking, body slick with sweat, mouth open and begging for something you can’t even name—she spits again, this time right into your messy, fucked-out smile. “brat,” she huffs, rubbing her thumb over your spit-slick lips. “you’re lucky i like taming you.”

grayson | discipline + spanking

you’re already bent over her desk when she walks in, cheeks flushed, hands braced, skirt lifted to your hips just like she told you. she shuts the door quietly. locks it and says nothing.

the silence stretches long enough to make your heart start pounding. you shift slightly, breath catching, but her voice slices through the tension before you can speak. “don’t fidget.”

you freeze. her footsteps are deliberate as she circles behind you. she takes her time. she always does. the anticipation is part of the punishment.

you feel the touch of her fingers on the small of your back, steadying you. then, the first smack lands—sharp, clean, echoing. you inhale hard. your hips twitch.

another. then another. slow and even, each one burning into your skin, building like thunder. “you broke two rules today,” she says, voice calm. “do you remember which?” you nod quickly. “yes, ma’am.” “say them.” “i was late. and i spoke out of turn.”

another smack. sharper this time. “you were disrespectful,” she corrects softly, “and reckless. you don’t speak before thinking. not in this uniform. not under my watch.”

her palm soothes the sting, rubbing in slow, firm circles. “you know better.” “i do,” you whisper. “good.”

she leans forward slightly, one hand still at your lower back to keep you in place, and her fingers dip between your thighs, finding you soaked. “of course you’re wet,” she sighs, almost fond. “this always gets through to you.” you whimper when she circles your clit once—slow, teasing. “how many spankings was that?” “f-five.” “then we’re not finished.”

you bite down a moan, bracing again, as her hand lifts— and comes down harder.

the burn makes your knees buckle. the praise that follows makes your chest ache. “you’re taking it so well,” she murmurs. “you always do when you're corrected.”

she doesn’t stop until your thighs are trembling and your cunt is dripping onto the floor. and even then, her fingers don’t let you come. not until she says you’ve earned it. not until you’ve thanked her for every single strike.

and when you do—breathless and obedient? she kisses the top of your spine and says you’ve done well. and it means more than any orgasm ever could.

a/n: i'm working on the rrequest/asks, they'll be up shortly! plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

Helloo! I hope you're having a wonderful day, feel free to ignore this because I have no idea if you even take requests or not.. hehe. But may we have a fic about a poly relationship with Ambessa, Sevika and reader? (Where Ambessa is the ultimate top🤭) And! I would like some spice in my Amvika sandwich, thank you!

hii, and thank you for the ask! and yes i’m open for requests! this was so hard to write, even though i love ambessa sevika poly fics! i tried my hardest, hope to not dissapoint you! <3

these women make me weak

warm up

dom!ambessa x switch!sevika x sub!reader

✎ word count: 3.5k

꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub power dynamics, rough sex, face riding, overstimulation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, strap-on use (ambessa → sevika), degrading language (toward sevika), light choking, restraint, reader exhaustion

The wooden spear was slipping again.

You gritted your teeth, adjusting your grip, sweat stinging your eyes. Muscles in your shoulders screamed in protest as you raised the shaft one more time, barely managing to keep your footing. Ambessa didn’t flinch. She stood across from you like a statue carved from obsidian, breathing steady, arms loose by her sides as if the last hour hadn’t even happened.

You lunged. Sloppy. You knew it the second you did it.

Ambessa didn’t bother to block. She merely stepped to the side, letting your momentum carry you forward. You stumbled. Caught yourself on shaking knees. The training stick hit the floor with a soft clatter.

Ambessa’s voice was even, not cruel. “You’re tired.”

You collapsed to your knees, chest heaving, the air hot in your throat. “No shit,” you muttered, one palm pressing against the mat. “You’re a damn war general.”

“And you’re someone who asked to be trained by one,” she reminded you. Not unkindly. But not softly, either.

You heard the soft creak of the lounge chair a few feet away as she finally moved, crossing the floor like she hadn’t just been sparring for hours. She sat with ease, rolling one shoulder back before reaching for the wine that had been waiting on the low side table.

That was when the door swung open.

Sevika’s boots were the first thing you noticed. Heavy, scuffed. Familiar. Her eyes swept the room in one motion, landing right on you, sweat-slicked, breathless, still on your knees with the training stick beside you like a discarded toy. You saw the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, almost a smirk, but something warmer behind it.

“Training day again?” she drawled, stepping in fully now, the door swinging shut behind her.

Ambessa didn’t even look up as she poured her glass. “She lasted longer this time.”

“Barely,” you muttered, trying to push yourself up.

But Sevika was already moving, crossing the room in a slow, confident gait. You felt her presence before you saw her crouch in front of you, hand bracing lightly on your thigh as she examined your flushed face.

“Ambessa really working you over today?”

You nodded wordlessly, too tired to shoot something clever back.

Ambessa, now reclined with her wine, finally looked over the rim of her glass. “She’s getting better. But she still swings with her arms. Not her hips.”

“Pff,” Sevika scoffed. “You giving her a staff doesn’t help. She’s not you, Ambessa.”

You glared up at Sevika, panting. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Yeah, and you look like you just crawled out of a battlefield,” she said with a grin.

“She has been crawling,” Ambessa mused, swirling her wine. “Not unlike a certain someone her first week in Noxus.”

That earned a sharp laugh from Sevika. “Don’t compare me to her.”

Ambessa just lifted her glass in salute. “You begged to stop after day one.”

“Because you broke my rib,” Sevika snapped, though her smirk betrayed her fondness. “[First Name]  here just looks... wrecked.”

You shoved at Sevika’s shoulder weakly, which she didn’t even pretend to budge from. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be wheezing too,” you muttered.

“Oh, I’d be wheezing,” Sevika replied, her tone dipping. “But not from training.”

You felt the heat crawl up your neck, and she grinned like she knew it. Ambessa’s deep chuckle came from the corner as she took another long sip.

“I told you,” Ambessa said smoothly, “discipline first. Then reward.”

Sevika raised a brow. “Is that why you’re sitting back with your wine while she’s over here leaking all her sweat onto the mat?”

“I’m building her stamina,” Ambessa said, calm and collected. “For all the right reasons.”

That made Sevika’s gaze flick back to you, slow and assessing. “Mm. Gotta say, I like her like this. All tired and pliant.”

“I’m not pliant,” you protested, trying and failing to stand. Sevika caught you before you faceplanted, gripping your bicep easily to hold you up.

“You are when you’re on your knees,” she said, low against your ear.

You flinched, heart pounding again, but this time not from exhaustion.

Ambessa watched with one leg crossed over the other, wine glass resting on her thigh like she had all the time in the world. “Let her rest,” she said, though there was something in her tone that promised that rest would only last as long as she allowed.

Sevika didn’t release you. If anything, she held you closer, pulling you gently into her side. Her grip lingered just a bit too low on your waist, thumb brushing against the edge of your ribs.

“Let her rest,” Ambessa said again, eyes still on the glass in her hand.

Sevika let out a low snort. “Didn’t realize you were so merciful.”

That earned her a slow blink from Ambessa. She set the wine glass down with quiet precision, no clatter, just a soft click that somehow cut through the air sharper than any barked order. Her legs uncrossed. She stood.

“Mercy?” she said, voice low and even. “That what you think this is?”

Sevika straightened as Ambessa stepped toward her, and the tension shifted immediately. Her hand stayed on you, but her eyes were locked on Ambessa now, body coiled like a spring.

“I think you’re getting soft,” Sevika said with a smirk. “All this talk. All this wine. And here I thought Noxians liked to prove things.”

Ambessa didn’t smile.

She crossed the room in three steps flat and pushed you aside, not cruelly, but decisively. You hit the mat with a grunt as her arm locked with Sevika’s, their bodies twisting in a sharp clash of limbs. No warmup. No warning. Just pressure, contact, force.

You scrambled to the side, heart hammering. They were moving fast—too fast for how big they were. Ambessa ducked low, Sevika countered, their boots scraping the mat and hands catching arms, shoulders, hips.

A blur of strength and stubbornness.

“Hey—hey!” you wheezed, trying to crawl out of the way. “Can you two not kill each other over me?”

Neither answered.

You dragged yourself toward the edge of the mat, just a few feet from the bench when something latched around your ankle. Metal fingers. Sevika.

“Oh no,” you muttered, trying to kick free.

She tugged you back like it was nothing, dragging you across the mat even as Ambessa moved in again with a shoulder check that Sevika barely dodged. You yelped and tried to scurry again, only to feel Ambessa’s hand plant on your hip as she stepped over you, using you to pivot and shove Sevika back.

You rolled the other way. “I am not a sparring prop!”

Ambessa’s voice was breathless but amused. “Then stay out of the middle.”

“I was!”

You barely got the words out before Ambessa surged forward again.

This time, she didn’t just counter Sevika, she crushed her momentum. Sevika tried to twist out of it, going low, but Ambessa anticipated it, catching her mid-shift. The thud of bodies colliding shook the mat. In a flash, Sevika was on her back, Ambessa over her, one knee braced against the floor, the other pressing Sevika’s thigh down.

Sevika growled, one hand pushing at Ambessa’s hip, the other trying to wedge between them, but Ambessa caught her wrist and shoved it aside, her other hand gripping Sevika’s throat—not hard, but firm enough that Sevika froze.

They locked eyes.

Breathless.

Silent.

You sat frozen where you’d landed a moment ago, half upright, watching the way Sevika’s mouth parted but didn’t speak. The way her mechanical arm stayed lifted but never struck. The tension snapped—shifting from aggression into something else entirely.

Ambessa’s thumb dragged slow across the side of Sevika’s neck. “You done?”

Sevika’s teeth clenched. But her body said it for her.

Ambessa didn’t move for a long beat. Just studied her like she was still debating whether to end the fight or start another one.

Then she looked at you.

Still half-splayed on the mat. Still catching your breath. Sweaty, shaken, worn out and watching.

“You want to act like a brat,” Ambessa said to Sevika, voice low now, steady, “you get treated like one.”

Her hand left Sevika’s throat, but only to push herself upright. She rose in one fluid motion, towering over both of you now.

You felt the weight of her stare before she even moved toward you.

A hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding your face up. “She’s already tired,” Ambessa murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. “Worked hard. Didn’t complain.”

Behind her, Sevika had pushed herself to her elbows, watching closely now, her breath ragged but her eyes sharp with something too familiar to name.

Ambessa’s voice dropped further. “Maybe she’ll show you how to behave.”

Your stomach twisted with heat. You didn’t even know what part of you agreed with her, but the part that moved when she touched you sure as hell did.

Ambessa let go of your jaw and took a step back, just enough to reposition you in front of her before pushing you down to the ground, on your knees facing sevika. Her palm flattened over your lower back, guiding you forward until you felt the edge of Sevika’s legs where she sat, still catching her breath from the floor.

Ambessa leaned in behind you, voice low against your ear. “She’s got a mouth. Let’s see if she can still use it properly.”

Your breath faltered. Doubt curled in your stomach,the raw edge of being caught off guard, caught between them. Your thighs still trembled from training, your pulse already too high. Sevika’s stare didn’t help. Her eyes tracked your every twitch like a wolf that had just been handed fresh meat.

You opened your mouth, maybe to ask a question, maybe to say wait, but Ambessa didn’t wait.

Her hand slid down your back, caught the fabric at your waist, and ripped. The stretch and tear of your clothes filled the room louder than it should’ve, and before you could so much as flinch, you were bare, breath hitched, skin prickling under the sudden rush of cool air.

Then came pressure.

Ambessa’s palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades, guiding—no, planting you down until your thighs were straddling Sevika’s face.

“Ambessa—” you gasped, unsure of what you even meant to say.

“Shh.” Her voice was silk over iron. “Let her have it.”

Below you, Sevika didn’t hesitate. She never would. Her metal arm locked around your thigh and yanked you flush against her mouth like she’d been waiting all damn day for it.

You cried out, hips jerking, breath torn straight from your lungs. Her ongue met you with no patience. She licked like she meant it. Like it had been denied to her. Deep, slow drags, then sharp flicks, then lips sealed around your clit like she was daring you to push her away.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Your hands landed hard on Sevika’s shoulders, nails dragging over her collar as she moaned beneath you, hungry and already messy. Every time your hips tried to shy away, Sevika dragged you back down, face grinding against you like she needed it to breathe.

And all the while, Ambessa watched.

She stood a few steps back, arms folded, watching the twitch of your thighs, the way your body shuddered when Sevika groaned into you. Her gaze was dark, sharp, and unbearably focused.

You whimpered, hips stuttering again. “I—fuck, she—”

Ambessa’s eyes narrowed slightly. And then she moved.

Silent steps across the mat. She passed behind you, toward the tall black cabinet on the side wall of the sparring room. The one no one ever touched during actual training. She opened it with one swift motion, pulled something heavy from inside

When she turned, the strap was already in her hand.

You couldn’t look away, not even when Sevika’s tongue drove another jolt through your core. Not even when Ambessa knelt again at Sevika’s side, calm and brutal, one hand sliding down Sevika’s waistband, the other bracing your thigh to hold you steady.

Sevika lifted her mouth just enough to breathe. Her lips were wet. Her eyes, blown wide.

“Greedy,” Ambessa muttered as she tugged Sevika’s pants down, rough and fast. “Should’ve learned your lesson.”

Sevika smirked. “Still waiting on the punishment.”

Ambessa didn’t answer. Simply adjusting the strap. Spat on her palm, slicked the strap, and lined it up.

Then she drove it in.

Sevika broke. Her head dropped back against the mat, hips arching hard as Ambessa bottomed out without hesitation. Her moan lit something in you and you felt your thighs shake again, overwhelmed by the sound, the heat, the grip of Sevika’s hands on your hips as she dove back in like nothing else mattered.

Ambessa started fucking her hard, deliberate strokes that dragged Sevika open each time, forcing her mouth to stay busy even when she gasped or cursed beneath you. Her grip was merciless. She held Sevika there while Sevika held you, the rhythm brutal and unforgiving.

Each thrust jolted Sevika’s body beneath you, her mouth losing rhythm as her breath caught. Her tongue stuttered, flattened, dragged slower over your folds.

“Fuck,” Sevika gasped, voice muffled against you.

Ambessa didn’t stop. Her hips slammed forward again, harder, snapping Sevika back into place with a deep grunt.

“Keep that mouth busy,” she growled. “You wanted this.”

Sevika whimpered something into your cunt inaudible, messy, soaked. Her hands clung tighter to your thighs like she needed something to ground herself, but her pace had turned ragged, desperate. She was shaking.

Ambessa looked down at her like she was pathetic.

“Gods, look at you,” she muttered, voice cold and sharp. “Fucking dripping and still can’t do one thing right.”

You shuddered at the sound. Not from fear. From how right it felt, being pressed between them. Sevika, beneath you, moaning into your cunt like she couldn’t breathe without it, and Ambessa, above and behind, fucking her like she wasn’t worth kindness.

You barely noticed your own thighs starting to tremble again, until Sevika dragged her tongue too deep, too fast, and your whole body buckled forward with a sob.

But Ambessa saw it.

And didn’t let it happen.

Before you could fully tip over, her hand clamped around your waist and dragged you back. Sevika let out a muffled growl of protest as your cunt slipped from her mouth, slick and trembling and denied.

You gasped. “Wait—!”

Ambessa ignored you.

“Is that what you wanted, Sevika? Wanted to feel her come on your face while you’re being fucked like a mutt?”

She hauled you upright, back flush to her chest, one thick arm locking around your neck. Her other hand slid down fast, rough fingers finding your cunt without hesitation.

She fucked into Sevika with the same relentless rhythm, the sound of her hips slapping against Sevika’s ass echoing off the training room walls. But her hand never stopped moving between your legs, fingers pumping in and curling hard, fast, without mercy.

“Don’t whine,” Ambessa growled against your ear. “You’ll come when I tell you to.”

You couldn’t even reply. Your mouth was open, breath caught on every thrust of her hand. The pressure was overwhelming, brutal. Her arm across your chest kept you pinned to her while her fingers curled deeper, harder.

Sevika moaned beneath both of you. her back arched as Ambessa fucked her deeper with each thrust of the strap. Her stomach flexed under the mess between your thighs, her skin slick with sweat and your arousal.

“You see that?” Ambessa’s voice was a snarl, sharp in your ear. “You’re making a mess all over her. You think she’s earned it?”

You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling back. 

Ambessa bit your shoulder.

“Now.”

Your body broke.

You came with a cry, grinding down without control as her fingers drove through you. It hit like a wave, hot, messy, clenching down around her hand as your thighs squeezed and trembled. The aftershocks splattered against Sevika’s stomach, sticky and wet across her skin as she gasped, helpless beneath the weight of it.

“Good girl,” Ambessa murmured against your neck. “She doesn’t get that. Not yet.”

Sevika whimpered again, and Ambessa didn’t slow down.

She just fucked her harder.

Your orgasm ripped through you, all-consuming, your body clenching around Ambessa’s fingers, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. And then your legs gave out.

There was no catching yourself.

Your knees buckled, and you dropped, spine sliding from Ambessa’s chest, thighs trembling, cunt still pulsing. You landed right on Sevika’s stomac, limp and breathless, legs spread wide across her abs.

But Ambessa didn’t stop.

She was still driving into Sevika, deep and punishing, every thrust making Sevika’s core flex under you tight muscle rolling beneath your overstimulated cunt.

“Shit—” you gasped, trying to lift yourself, but Sevika’s body moved again, jerked from the force of another deep thrust and your hips rocked forward without meaning to, dragging slick and swollen across her abs.

You cried out.

It was too much. Your nerves were already raw, your clit still aching from the high Ambessa had wrung out of you and now Sevika’s stomach was grinding against you, again and again, every ripple of movement turning into friction you couldn’t control.

Your fingers scrabbled against Sevika’s chest, trying to lift yourself off her, but your arms were weak, trembling.

And still Ambessa kept going.

Each thrust shoved Sevika’s hips upward, rocked her into the mat, and you with her. Her abs tensed and jumped beneath you, slick with your release, hot and unrelenting turning your still-throbbing cunt into something helpless, overstimulated, dragged across her again and again.

You whined, body twitching. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” Ambessa said behind you, her voice low, controlled. “You just don’t want to.”

She gripped your hip with one hand now, holding you steady, keeping you there as Sevika’s body moved under you.

Sevika gasped beneath both of you, hands digging into the mat, back arched as Ambessa’s pace grew harder, sharper. Her stomach clenched again under your heat, her breath ragged.

“Oh fuck—fuck—Ambessa—!”

“Not yet,” Ambessa snapped.

You moaned as another jolt rocked through your hips, your body grinding down against Sevika’s abs without permission, every movement another spark across your clit. Your thighs were slick, open, twitching uncontrollably.

“I can’t—” Sevika groaned, “She’s—she’s dripping all over me—”

“She earned it,” Ambessa said. Her next thrust slammed deep, punching the air from Sevika’s lungs. “You haven’t.”

Sevika's hands were fisting the mat now. Arms locked, head tilted back against the floor. Her mouth hung open, panting, face flushed and wild with tension. The strap drove into her again, and again, and again, deep enough to lift her back off the floor, to knock the sound out of her lungs.

"Ambessa—" she gasped, voice cracking.

"No," Ambessa snapped, breath rough now. "You wait."

Another brutal thrust.

Sevika’s legs trembled violently beneath you. Her abs clenched again, so hard it made your hips jolt and your throat let out a broken whimper. You tried to lift yourself, but Ambessa’s hand was still on your hip, holding you there, grinding you down against Sevika’s body, keeping you soaked and open and forced to feel all of it.

“F-fuck,” Sevika choked, trying to resist it, trying to hold on. Her thighs were trembling, her back arched so hard it lifted you with her for a second before Ambessa slammed her back down again.

And then Ambessa broke.

She hissed between her teeth, eyes blazing, body tightening behind you.

“Now,” she growled, hips snapping forward. “Come. Both of you.”

Sevika shattered.

Her moan tore out of her throat like something feral, her whole body locking up. You felt it beneath you, every flex, every twitch, the way her stomach tightened under your cunt, the way her thighs jerked and her arms buckled. She came hard, hips grinding back against the strap, body writhing between you and Ambessa.

And Ambessa—

Ambessa held steady until the very end. Her grip bruised, her pace ruthless, even as her jaw clenched and her breath hitched through her nose. When she came, she didn't announce it, she just dug in, hips burying deep one last time, strap shoved as far into Sevika as it would go.

A slow, deep exhale left her chest. Satisfied. Dominant.

Ambessa’s hand slid from your hip to your throat holding you against Sevika’s heaving body while both of them trembled and twitched beneath you.

‘’Now you’re allowed to rest.’’

plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

Helloo! I hope you're having a wonderful day, feel free to ignore this because I have no idea if you even take requests or not.. hehe. But may we have a fic about a poly relationship with Ambessa, Sevika and reader? (Where Ambessa is the ultimate top🤭) And! I would like some spice in my Amvika sandwich, thank you!

hii, and thank you for the ask! and yes i’m open for requests! this was so hard to write, even though i love ambessa sevika poly fics! i tried my hardest, hope to not dissapoint you! <3

these women make me weak

warm up

dom!ambessa x switch!sevika x sub!reader

✎ word count: 3.5k

꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub power dynamics, rough sex, face riding, overstimulation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, strap-on use (ambessa → sevika), degrading language (toward sevika), light choking, restraint, reader exhaustion

The wooden spear was slipping again.

You gritted your teeth, adjusting your grip, sweat stinging your eyes. Muscles in your shoulders screamed in protest as you raised the shaft one more time, barely managing to keep your footing. Ambessa didn’t flinch. She stood across from you like a statue carved from obsidian, breathing steady, arms loose by her sides as if the last hour hadn’t even happened.

You lunged. Sloppy. You knew it the second you did it.

Ambessa didn’t bother to block. She merely stepped to the side, letting your momentum carry you forward. You stumbled. Caught yourself on shaking knees. The training stick hit the floor with a soft clatter.

Ambessa’s voice was even, not cruel. “You’re tired.”

You collapsed to your knees, chest heaving, the air hot in your throat. “No shit,” you muttered, one palm pressing against the mat. “You’re a damn war general.”

“And you’re someone who asked to be trained by one,” she reminded you. Not unkindly. But not softly, either.

You heard the soft creak of the lounge chair a few feet away as she finally moved, crossing the floor like she hadn’t just been sparring for hours. She sat with ease, rolling one shoulder back before reaching for the wine that had been waiting on the low side table.

That was when the door swung open.

Sevika’s boots were the first thing you noticed. Heavy, scuffed. Familiar. Her eyes swept the room in one motion, landing right on you, sweat-slicked, breathless, still on your knees with the training stick beside you like a discarded toy. You saw the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, almost a smirk, but something warmer behind it.

“Training day again?” she drawled, stepping in fully now, the door swinging shut behind her.

Ambessa didn’t even look up as she poured her glass. “She lasted longer this time.”

“Barely,” you muttered, trying to push yourself up.

But Sevika was already moving, crossing the room in a slow, confident gait. You felt her presence before you saw her crouch in front of you, hand bracing lightly on your thigh as she examined your flushed face.

“Ambessa really working you over today?”

You nodded wordlessly, too tired to shoot something clever back.

Ambessa, now reclined with her wine, finally looked over the rim of her glass. “She’s getting better. But she still swings with her arms. Not her hips.”

“Pff,” Sevika scoffed. “You giving her a staff doesn’t help. She’s not you, Ambessa.”

You glared up at Sevika, panting. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Yeah, and you look like you just crawled out of a battlefield,” she said with a grin.

“She has been crawling,” Ambessa mused, swirling her wine. “Not unlike a certain someone her first week in Noxus.”

That earned a sharp laugh from Sevika. “Don’t compare me to her.”

Ambessa just lifted her glass in salute. “You begged to stop after day one.”

“Because you broke my rib,” Sevika snapped, though her smirk betrayed her fondness. “[First Name]  here just looks... wrecked.”

You shoved at Sevika’s shoulder weakly, which she didn’t even pretend to budge from. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be wheezing too,” you muttered.

“Oh, I’d be wheezing,” Sevika replied, her tone dipping. “But not from training.”

You felt the heat crawl up your neck, and she grinned like she knew it. Ambessa’s deep chuckle came from the corner as she took another long sip.

“I told you,” Ambessa said smoothly, “discipline first. Then reward.”

Sevika raised a brow. “Is that why you’re sitting back with your wine while she’s over here leaking all her sweat onto the mat?”

“I’m building her stamina,” Ambessa said, calm and collected. “For all the right reasons.”

That made Sevika’s gaze flick back to you, slow and assessing. “Mm. Gotta say, I like her like this. All tired and pliant.”

“I’m not pliant,” you protested, trying and failing to stand. Sevika caught you before you faceplanted, gripping your bicep easily to hold you up.

“You are when you’re on your knees,” she said, low against your ear.

You flinched, heart pounding again, but this time not from exhaustion.

Ambessa watched with one leg crossed over the other, wine glass resting on her thigh like she had all the time in the world. “Let her rest,” she said, though there was something in her tone that promised that rest would only last as long as she allowed.

Sevika didn’t release you. If anything, she held you closer, pulling you gently into her side. Her grip lingered just a bit too low on your waist, thumb brushing against the edge of your ribs.

“Let her rest,” Ambessa said again, eyes still on the glass in her hand.

Sevika let out a low snort. “Didn’t realize you were so merciful.”

That earned her a slow blink from Ambessa. She set the wine glass down with quiet precision, no clatter, just a soft click that somehow cut through the air sharper than any barked order. Her legs uncrossed. She stood.

“Mercy?” she said, voice low and even. “That what you think this is?”

Sevika straightened as Ambessa stepped toward her, and the tension shifted immediately. Her hand stayed on you, but her eyes were locked on Ambessa now, body coiled like a spring.

“I think you’re getting soft,” Sevika said with a smirk. “All this talk. All this wine. And here I thought Noxians liked to prove things.”

Ambessa didn’t smile.

She crossed the room in three steps flat and pushed you aside, not cruelly, but decisively. You hit the mat with a grunt as her arm locked with Sevika’s, their bodies twisting in a sharp clash of limbs. No warmup. No warning. Just pressure, contact, force.

You scrambled to the side, heart hammering. They were moving fast—too fast for how big they were. Ambessa ducked low, Sevika countered, their boots scraping the mat and hands catching arms, shoulders, hips.

A blur of strength and stubbornness.

“Hey—hey!” you wheezed, trying to crawl out of the way. “Can you two not kill each other over me?”

Neither answered.

You dragged yourself toward the edge of the mat, just a few feet from the bench when something latched around your ankle. Metal fingers. Sevika.

“Oh no,” you muttered, trying to kick free.

She tugged you back like it was nothing, dragging you across the mat even as Ambessa moved in again with a shoulder check that Sevika barely dodged. You yelped and tried to scurry again, only to feel Ambessa’s hand plant on your hip as she stepped over you, using you to pivot and shove Sevika back.

You rolled the other way. “I am not a sparring prop!”

Ambessa’s voice was breathless but amused. “Then stay out of the middle.”

“I was!”

You barely got the words out before Ambessa surged forward again.

This time, she didn’t just counter Sevika, she crushed her momentum. Sevika tried to twist out of it, going low, but Ambessa anticipated it, catching her mid-shift. The thud of bodies colliding shook the mat. In a flash, Sevika was on her back, Ambessa over her, one knee braced against the floor, the other pressing Sevika’s thigh down.

Sevika growled, one hand pushing at Ambessa’s hip, the other trying to wedge between them, but Ambessa caught her wrist and shoved it aside, her other hand gripping Sevika’s throat—not hard, but firm enough that Sevika froze.

They locked eyes.

Breathless.

Silent.

You sat frozen where you’d landed a moment ago, half upright, watching the way Sevika’s mouth parted but didn’t speak. The way her mechanical arm stayed lifted but never struck. The tension snapped—shifting from aggression into something else entirely.

Ambessa’s thumb dragged slow across the side of Sevika’s neck. “You done?”

Sevika’s teeth clenched. But her body said it for her.

Ambessa didn’t move for a long beat. Just studied her like she was still debating whether to end the fight or start another one.

Then she looked at you.

Still half-splayed on the mat. Still catching your breath. Sweaty, shaken, worn out and watching.

“You want to act like a brat,” Ambessa said to Sevika, voice low now, steady, “you get treated like one.”

Her hand left Sevika’s throat, but only to push herself upright. She rose in one fluid motion, towering over both of you now.

You felt the weight of her stare before she even moved toward you.

A hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding your face up. “She’s already tired,” Ambessa murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. “Worked hard. Didn’t complain.”

Behind her, Sevika had pushed herself to her elbows, watching closely now, her breath ragged but her eyes sharp with something too familiar to name.

Ambessa’s voice dropped further. “Maybe she’ll show you how to behave.”

Your stomach twisted with heat. You didn’t even know what part of you agreed with her, but the part that moved when she touched you sure as hell did.

Ambessa let go of your jaw and took a step back, just enough to reposition you in front of her before pushing you down to the ground, on your knees facing sevika. Her palm flattened over your lower back, guiding you forward until you felt the edge of Sevika’s legs where she sat, still catching her breath from the floor.

Ambessa leaned in behind you, voice low against your ear. “She’s got a mouth. Let’s see if she can still use it properly.”

Your breath faltered. Doubt curled in your stomach,the raw edge of being caught off guard, caught between them. Your thighs still trembled from training, your pulse already too high. Sevika’s stare didn’t help. Her eyes tracked your every twitch like a wolf that had just been handed fresh meat.

You opened your mouth, maybe to ask a question, maybe to say wait, but Ambessa didn’t wait.

Her hand slid down your back, caught the fabric at your waist, and ripped. The stretch and tear of your clothes filled the room louder than it should’ve, and before you could so much as flinch, you were bare, breath hitched, skin prickling under the sudden rush of cool air.

Then came pressure.

Ambessa’s palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades, guiding—no, planting you down until your thighs were straddling Sevika’s face.

“Ambessa—” you gasped, unsure of what you even meant to say.

“Shh.” Her voice was silk over iron. “Let her have it.”

Below you, Sevika didn’t hesitate. She never would. Her metal arm locked around your thigh and yanked you flush against her mouth like she’d been waiting all damn day for it.

You cried out, hips jerking, breath torn straight from your lungs. Her ongue met you with no patience. She licked like she meant it. Like it had been denied to her. Deep, slow drags, then sharp flicks, then lips sealed around your clit like she was daring you to push her away.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Your hands landed hard on Sevika’s shoulders, nails dragging over her collar as she moaned beneath you, hungry and already messy. Every time your hips tried to shy away, Sevika dragged you back down, face grinding against you like she needed it to breathe.

And all the while, Ambessa watched.

She stood a few steps back, arms folded, watching the twitch of your thighs, the way your body shuddered when Sevika groaned into you. Her gaze was dark, sharp, and unbearably focused.

You whimpered, hips stuttering again. “I—fuck, she—”

Ambessa’s eyes narrowed slightly. And then she moved.

Silent steps across the mat. She passed behind you, toward the tall black cabinet on the side wall of the sparring room. The one no one ever touched during actual training. She opened it with one swift motion, pulled something heavy from inside

When she turned, the strap was already in her hand.

You couldn’t look away, not even when Sevika’s tongue drove another jolt through your core. Not even when Ambessa knelt again at Sevika’s side, calm and brutal, one hand sliding down Sevika’s waistband, the other bracing your thigh to hold you steady.

Sevika lifted her mouth just enough to breathe. Her lips were wet. Her eyes, blown wide.

“Greedy,” Ambessa muttered as she tugged Sevika’s pants down, rough and fast. “Should’ve learned your lesson.”

Sevika smirked. “Still waiting on the punishment.”

Ambessa didn’t answer. Simply adjusting the strap. Spat on her palm, slicked the strap, and lined it up.

Then she drove it in.

Sevika broke. Her head dropped back against the mat, hips arching hard as Ambessa bottomed out without hesitation. Her moan lit something in you and you felt your thighs shake again, overwhelmed by the sound, the heat, the grip of Sevika’s hands on your hips as she dove back in like nothing else mattered.

Ambessa started fucking her hard, deliberate strokes that dragged Sevika open each time, forcing her mouth to stay busy even when she gasped or cursed beneath you. Her grip was merciless. She held Sevika there while Sevika held you, the rhythm brutal and unforgiving.

Each thrust jolted Sevika’s body beneath you, her mouth losing rhythm as her breath caught. Her tongue stuttered, flattened, dragged slower over your folds.

“Fuck,” Sevika gasped, voice muffled against you.

Ambessa didn’t stop. Her hips slammed forward again, harder, snapping Sevika back into place with a deep grunt.

“Keep that mouth busy,” she growled. “You wanted this.”

Sevika whimpered something into your cunt inaudible, messy, soaked. Her hands clung tighter to your thighs like she needed something to ground herself, but her pace had turned ragged, desperate. She was shaking.

Ambessa looked down at her like she was pathetic.

“Gods, look at you,” she muttered, voice cold and sharp. “Fucking dripping and still can’t do one thing right.”

You shuddered at the sound. Not from fear. From how right it felt, being pressed between them. Sevika, beneath you, moaning into your cunt like she couldn’t breathe without it, and Ambessa, above and behind, fucking her like she wasn’t worth kindness.

You barely noticed your own thighs starting to tremble again, until Sevika dragged her tongue too deep, too fast, and your whole body buckled forward with a sob.

But Ambessa saw it.

And didn’t let it happen.

Before you could fully tip over, her hand clamped around your waist and dragged you back. Sevika let out a muffled growl of protest as your cunt slipped from her mouth, slick and trembling and denied.

You gasped. “Wait—!”

Ambessa ignored you.

“Is that what you wanted, Sevika? Wanted to feel her come on your face while you’re being fucked like a mutt?”

She hauled you upright, back flush to her chest, one thick arm locking around your neck. Her other hand slid down fast, rough fingers finding your cunt without hesitation.

She fucked into Sevika with the same relentless rhythm, the sound of her hips slapping against Sevika’s ass echoing off the training room walls. But her hand never stopped moving between your legs, fingers pumping in and curling hard, fast, without mercy.

“Don’t whine,” Ambessa growled against your ear. “You’ll come when I tell you to.”

You couldn’t even reply. Your mouth was open, breath caught on every thrust of her hand. The pressure was overwhelming, brutal. Her arm across your chest kept you pinned to her while her fingers curled deeper, harder.

Sevika moaned beneath both of you. her back arched as Ambessa fucked her deeper with each thrust of the strap. Her stomach flexed under the mess between your thighs, her skin slick with sweat and your arousal.

“You see that?” Ambessa’s voice was a snarl, sharp in your ear. “You’re making a mess all over her. You think she’s earned it?”

You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling back. 

Ambessa bit your shoulder.

“Now.”

Your body broke.

You came with a cry, grinding down without control as her fingers drove through you. It hit like a wave, hot, messy, clenching down around her hand as your thighs squeezed and trembled. The aftershocks splattered against Sevika’s stomach, sticky and wet across her skin as she gasped, helpless beneath the weight of it.

“Good girl,” Ambessa murmured against your neck. “She doesn’t get that. Not yet.”

Sevika whimpered again, and Ambessa didn’t slow down.

She just fucked her harder.

Your orgasm ripped through you, all-consuming, your body clenching around Ambessa’s fingers, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. And then your legs gave out.

There was no catching yourself.

Your knees buckled, and you dropped, spine sliding from Ambessa’s chest, thighs trembling, cunt still pulsing. You landed right on Sevika’s stomac, limp and breathless, legs spread wide across her abs.

But Ambessa didn’t stop.

She was still driving into Sevika, deep and punishing, every thrust making Sevika’s core flex under you tight muscle rolling beneath your overstimulated cunt.

“Shit—” you gasped, trying to lift yourself, but Sevika’s body moved again, jerked from the force of another deep thrust and your hips rocked forward without meaning to, dragging slick and swollen across her abs.

You cried out.

It was too much. Your nerves were already raw, your clit still aching from the high Ambessa had wrung out of you and now Sevika’s stomach was grinding against you, again and again, every ripple of movement turning into friction you couldn’t control.

Your fingers scrabbled against Sevika’s chest, trying to lift yourself off her, but your arms were weak, trembling.

And still Ambessa kept going.

Each thrust shoved Sevika’s hips upward, rocked her into the mat, and you with her. Her abs tensed and jumped beneath you, slick with your release, hot and unrelenting turning your still-throbbing cunt into something helpless, overstimulated, dragged across her again and again.

You whined, body twitching. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” Ambessa said behind you, her voice low, controlled. “You just don’t want to.”

She gripped your hip with one hand now, holding you steady, keeping you there as Sevika’s body moved under you.

Sevika gasped beneath both of you, hands digging into the mat, back arched as Ambessa’s pace grew harder, sharper. Her stomach clenched again under your heat, her breath ragged.

“Oh fuck—fuck—Ambessa—!”

“Not yet,” Ambessa snapped.

You moaned as another jolt rocked through your hips, your body grinding down against Sevika’s abs without permission, every movement another spark across your clit. Your thighs were slick, open, twitching uncontrollably.

“I can’t—” Sevika groaned, “She’s—she’s dripping all over me—”

“She earned it,” Ambessa said. Her next thrust slammed deep, punching the air from Sevika’s lungs. “You haven’t.”

Sevika's hands were fisting the mat now. Arms locked, head tilted back against the floor. Her mouth hung open, panting, face flushed and wild with tension. The strap drove into her again, and again, and again, deep enough to lift her back off the floor, to knock the sound out of her lungs.

"Ambessa—" she gasped, voice cracking.

"No," Ambessa snapped, breath rough now. "You wait."

Another brutal thrust.

Sevika’s legs trembled violently beneath you. Her abs clenched again, so hard it made your hips jolt and your throat let out a broken whimper. You tried to lift yourself, but Ambessa’s hand was still on your hip, holding you there, grinding you down against Sevika’s body, keeping you soaked and open and forced to feel all of it.

“F-fuck,” Sevika choked, trying to resist it, trying to hold on. Her thighs were trembling, her back arched so hard it lifted you with her for a second before Ambessa slammed her back down again.

And then Ambessa broke.

She hissed between her teeth, eyes blazing, body tightening behind you.

“Now,” she growled, hips snapping forward. “Come. Both of you.”

Sevika shattered.

Her moan tore out of her throat like something feral, her whole body locking up. You felt it beneath you, every flex, every twitch, the way her stomach tightened under your cunt, the way her thighs jerked and her arms buckled. She came hard, hips grinding back against the strap, body writhing between you and Ambessa.

And Ambessa—

Ambessa held steady until the very end. Her grip bruised, her pace ruthless, even as her jaw clenched and her breath hitched through her nose. When she came, she didn't announce it, she just dug in, hips burying deep one last time, strap shoved as far into Sevika as it would go.

A slow, deep exhale left her chest. Satisfied. Dominant.

Ambessa’s hand slid from your hip to your throat holding you against Sevika’s heaving body while both of them trembled and twitched beneath you.

‘’Now you’re allowed to rest.’’

plagarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

they call me firecracker

client!sevika x brothelworker!reader

✎ word count: 2k

꩜ content warnings: nsfw, rough strap-on sex, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, degradation, humiliation, possessive behavior, objectification, power imbalance, client x sex worker dynamic, biting, bruising, smoking, dubious consent themes, lack of aftercare

The hallway hushes the moment her boots hit the floor.

Not fast—just slow, deliberate steps on the creaking wood. Heavy enough to feel through the soles of your shoes. You don't need to look. You know it's her. Everyone does. Her shadow hits the velvet wall just seconds before she rounds the corner, and every other girl either looks away or pretends not to notice.

She doesn’t stop for anyone. She never does.

The madam gives a barely visible nod, already stepping aside, and then Sevika’s eyes find yours through the half-curtained doorframe.

She doesn’t knock. She never has. Just presses a gloved hand to the doorframe, pushes it open like she owns the place, and steps in with a drag of smoke trailing behind her.

You’re on your knees, arranging your just washed lingerie, your back arched just enough to make a point—and her gaze catches. Lingers.

“Didn’t expect you tonight,” you say, without turning.

“You should’ve,” she replies. Her voice is rough. Cigarette low in her mouth, hand already unfastening the top clasp of her coat.

“I was scheduled with someone else.”

She takes a long drag, then flicks the ash onto your floor. “Not anymore.”

You glance over your shoulder. “Did you pay for that?”

Her coat hits the armchair. She doesn’t answer. She never does.

She steps behind you, boots slow, measured, as you stay on your knees. You should get up. You should say something sharp. But the energy shifts the moment she’s behind you, thick and warm and sharp around the edges. Her gloved hand grabs the back of your neck, as she leans over your frame, and tilts your head to the side.

“That tone,” she mutters, fingers flexing, “you only use it with me.”

You hum, lips parted. “Maybe I only need it with you.” you sigh loudly.

You shouldn’t tease her. Not when she’s like this—coiled and quiet and dark around the edges. But you like the consequences. You like the way she handles you when she’s had a bad day. You like knowing the others can hear your breath hitch when she bites your ear just hard enough to leave a mark.

She presses her feetbetween your thighs from behind, boot pushing you open on the soft carpet. "Still pretending you're not waiting for me every night?"

“Still pretending I’m just a hole for hire?”

You feel her smile before you hear it. A low, dangerous sound against your jaw. Both knowing you literally are.

“Take your clothes off.”

You go slow on purpose. Pull your robe open one inch at a time. She watches. You feel her eyes drag across every inch of exposed skin like a burn. By the time you’re fully bare, she’s behind you again, bare hand now at your throat, lifting you up, pulling your back to her chest, her mechanical fingers cold on your waist.

“You think about me?” she asks, voice low, teeth grazing your neck.

You don’t answer.

Wrong move.

Her fingers close just enough around your throat to make your breath pause.

“I asked you a question.”

You tilt your head back, daring her. “Not feeding your ego, Sevika.”

She doesn’t kiss you. Sevika doesn’t do soft. She bites. Her mouth is on your collarbone before the words are cold in the air, and you gasp, digging your nails into her arm just to stay upright. She growls, pushes you forward onto the mattress, chest down, ass up.

“Need you to remember something,” she says, positioning herself behind you, voice almost too calm. “You’re not paid to want me.”

She shrugs out of her harness vest with a practiced roll of her shoulders, letting it fall with a dull thunk to the floor. You hear the unbuckle of her belt next—real this time, heavy, metal sliding through loops. But instead of dropping it, she opens her coat wider and pulls the strap-on from inside, worn leather and dark silicone already slick with lube.

You go still, throat dry.

She straps it on without a word, slow and precise. Tightens the buckles across her hips. Adjusts the fit like she’s done it a hundred times in the dark. She probably has.

Her gaze flicks up to find you watching.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she mutters, gloved hand gripping the base. “You knew what you were begging for.”

You bury your face in the sheets, groaning. She always brings it. You just forget how big it looks when she straps it on. How heavy her presence becomes the second she has it between her legs.

“Look at you,” she mutters, voice dark with something between amusement and hunger. “Back arched like a fucking pet. You wait like this for everyone?”

You groan, breath shaky. “If they pay right.”

“Tch.”

She steps in close, metal hand gripping your hip, thumb digging into the curve of your ass. Her other hand slips down between your thighs, bare fingers grazing your folds like it’s nothing—just a test. You jerk at the contact, slick already clinging to her skin.

She hums low. “Dripping.”

You whimper, shifting, but her grip tightens.

“Stay still.”

You breathe through your teeth. Her fingers slide up, unhurried, and rub circles into your clit, slow and mean. You whimper. The sensation burns—it’s teasing and humiliating and hot. Her other hand grabs a fistful of your ass, holding you wide open for her.

“You know what happens when you act like a brat?” she asks, slipping one thick finger inside without warning.

You moan into the mattress.

She adds a second, rough and deep. Your hips jerk forward. She pulls you back.

“Answer me.”

“Y-you make me beg,” you choke out.

She curls her fingers slow, angling just right.

“And you’re gonna,” she breathes.

Her hand fucks you lazily, fingers thick, knuckles grinding against your slick heat. She doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t let you chase it. Just holds you there, trembling and stuffed full, using your body like it belongs to her.

Your knees shake.

“You close already?��� she murmurs, sounding almost bored. “Fucking pathetic.”

She slips her fingers out with a wet sound and wipes them on the inside of your thigh.

Then she reaches for the strap-on—worn leather and slick black silicone, her hand fitting around it, navigating it.

“You ready to take it?”

“Yes,” you whisper, wrecked.

She palms your ass, leans in close.

“Too bad.”

The cock presses between your folds, not entering yet—just dragging through your wetness, thick and heavy and deliberate. She lets it rest there, makes you feel it. Makes you ache for it.

She continues the movement for a bit, teasing both of you. Watching the strap-on disappear and reappear betwen your clenched thighs.

And then—

She thrusts in. Deep. Unforgiving. You cry out, the sound muffled by the mattress, legs trembling under the weight of her hips slamming into you.

“Too quiet,” Sevika growls, grabbing your hair and yanking your head up just enough to hear you better. “I said let them hear.”

You moan louder, and she rewards you with another thrust, harder this time. Deep enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“Good girl.”

The words shouldn’t make you clench the way they do. But they do.

She sets a pace that’s brutal from the start, hips slamming into your ass, the sound of flesh on flesh sharp and wet and endless. Her cock drags against that sensitive spot inside you over and over, your thighs shaking, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you cling to the sheets for something, anything, to hold you together.

Your body aches, slick dripping down your thighs, heart pounding like it’s trying to run from her—like you could. You can’t. You don’t even want to.

She leans down, her weight pressing against your back, one hand on your throat again not choking, just holding. Just reminding you.

“I could fuck you like this all night,” she growls. “Don’t need breaks. Don’t need softness. Just need to hear you cry.”

You go limp, arms sliding out from under you.

That’s when she grabs your hips and lifts them back into place.

“Don’t drop,” she growls. “We’re not done.”

You whine. It’s all you can manage. But you let her reposition you. You let her keep going.

She’s panting now. Not from exhaustion—she never fucks like she’s tired—but from focus. Like she’s working something out of herself. Like the only way to feel right is to break you.

And fuck—you're breaking.

She digs her fingers into your hips, thrusting deep, rhythm precise. Not frantic. Not desperate. Just relentless. Her control is terrifying. There’s no slip in her pace, no mercy in her grip.

“You feel that?” she rasps, cock buried to the hilt inside you. “No one else makes you feel this full. No one else fucks you this deep.”

You nod against the mattress, half-conscious, mouth open.

She slaps your ass again, harder than before. “Use your words.”

“Only you,” you cry out, body trembling. “Fuck—only you.”

She exhales sharp through her nose like that does something to her. Her hand slides under you now, rough fingers working your clit in fast, cruel circles while she keeps pounding into you from behind.

Her voice is dark now, strained, like she’s fighting something in her own chest. Like this is no longer just about making you fall apart but about proving something. To you. To herself.

She rubs harder, faster, until your legs buckle completely and your scream rips through the room.

You don’t even feel your body collapse. You just hear her breathing—heavy, steady, satisfied.

She finally slows. Pulls out slow, the strap slick and soaked with you, shining in the low light. You’re twitching under her, legs still spread, cunt pulsing with aftershocks.

And for a second—you think she might stay.

You think she might press a hand to your back and whisper something. Something that means something.

But no.

She steps back. Unbuckles the strap. Wipes it off with a cloth from her coat. Buckles her belt again with that same practiced efficiency.

You don’t turn to look. You couldn’t if you tried. Your body’s still face-down, barely functioning, and she doesn’t help you up.

She lights a cigarette like nothing happened. Walks to the corner chair. Sits.

Watches you.

“Same time next week?” she asks flatly.

You want to spit. You want to say no. You want to say something that matters.

But your body says yes before your mouth does. Because you know it. And she knows it.

You’ll be on your knees again the moment her boots hit the hallway.

a/n: 'hole for hire'' haha, get it? ok..

★ plagarism not authorized ★

[velvetsserenity]

some of sevika’s kinks

overstim

she absolutely loves to overstimulate you. forcing so many orgasms out of your tired body that your brain starts oozing out of your ears, the room filled with your whimpers and sobs

loves to see the drool running down your chin, tears staining your cheeks, and sweat coating your forehead. she adores making a mess of you

and it fills her with pride when she see you trying to calm yourself down, wanting to take more. she’s so proud of her girl, always wanting to obey. no matter how draining it is

“aww sweetheart, is your poor little clit all sensitive?”

orgasm control

on the contrary, she also loves to make you beg to cum

“c’mon baby, cumming is a privilege not a right. you know that.”

if you’ve been bad, there’s nothing she would rather do. laying you down and bringing you right to that edge before she takes her hand away, watching your reaction as the sensation fizzles away

and finally after a couple hours of the torture; she lets you cum, just not properly. taking her hand away just as she feels your orgasm washing over you, and watches you twist and turn to try and get some type of friction

but she holds your legs open so you can’t even rub your thighs together

“where’s my thank you? i let you cum didn’t i? say thank you”

impact play

love love loves giving you little taps across the face. never fully slapping you because she’s too scared to hurt you, just bringing your attention back to her if she sees your mind wandering

but your ass? omg it’s covered in faded bruises and belt shaped welts from past punishments that are going down. and whenever she brings her hand down, you know that the rings on her fingers will be leaving marks

[velvetsserenity]

munch sevika pt.2

dom!sevika, bratty!reader, oral, punishment, dirty talk, pussy spanking, overstim

you shouldn’t have said it.

you knew better. you had been testing her all afternoon, and she was still being soft.

but you were already panting, flushed, mouth slick from where sevika had kissed you stupid, and when she started kissing down your stomach, spreading your thighs like she had all night to ruin you—

you grinned. cocky.

“you gonna tease all night or actually do something down there, old lady?”

her head snapped up.

brows arched.

mouth still right above your cunt.

“oh?” she murmured, voice low, dangerous. her breath kissed your skin, made you shiver. “you really wanna talk shit with your pussy this wet?”

you swallowed.

and then she grabbed your hips, yanked you down the bed like you weighed nothing, and buried her face between your thighs.

“fuck—sevika!” you gasped, hands flying to her hair.

she didn’t answer.

just licked one long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit—then sucked hard, like she was punishing you with her mouth. her tongue moved like she knew every nerve ending, every twitch, every spot that made your legs jerk.

you writhed, moaned, tried to close your legs—

her metal hand slammed down on your inner thigh.

“keep ‘em open.”

“sevika—” you whimpered, hips stuttering. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—”

“nah,” she growled, voice muffled, “you meant that bratty shit. now take it.”

you did.

you had to.

her tongue flicked fast, relentless, and then she spit on your pussy—again, just to be nasty—and kept going.

you were moaning so loud now, you barely realized the tears until they dripped into your hairline.

“fuckfuckfuck—sev—‘m gonna—i can’t—”

she pulled back just enough to talk, lips wet and glistening, chin messy with you.

“you talk a lot of shit for someone about to cum all over my fuckin’ face,” she said, then slapped your pussy—once, sharp.

you screamed, hips bucking.

“that’s right,” she growled. “go dumb on it.”

and you did.

hard.

thighs shaking, breath gone, brain white-noise empty.

she didn’t stop.

not after one.

not after two.

she licked you through every single one, only pausing to smirk when you sobbed, “too much, please, sev, i’m sorry—”

“nah, doll,” she rasped, voice wrecked and low.

“you asked for it.”

“and now you’re fuckin’ takin’ it.”

[velvetsserenity]

tongue twister

caitlyn x reader x vi

✎ word count: 3.5k ꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, orgasm control, rough handling, light choking, public setting, humiliation, dominance dynamics, voyeurism, jealousy, threesome dynamics, oral (receiving)

You didn’t come to the Last Drop to cause trouble.

Well. Not exactly.

You came to dance. To drink. To press your body against strangers who don’t ask questions and know how to bite without drawing blood. You came to forget the week, the city, the bullshit.

You did not come to see them.

So when the bar door creaks open and the flickering neon catches pink hair and a high collar, you nearly choke on your drink.

You sit back on your stool, licking vodka from your bottom lip, and tilt your head slowly.

“...You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Vi walks in first, smug, relaxed, like the chaos of the Lanes lives in her blood. She’s in a loose tank, old gloves tucked into her belt, face lit by the dim blue wash of the bar lights.

And right beside her...

Caitlyn Kiramman. Hair pristine. Blouse starched. A few buttons undone to look casual, but still standing like she’s holding a badge under her skin.

They’re talking. Laughing.

Laughing.

Together.

You narrow your eyes.

They don’t see you.

Even when they cut through the crowd like they own the place, brushing shoulders with bodies that look at them and then away. Vi’s making a beeline for the bar. Caitlyn follows, hesitant but intrigued.

You swirl your drink and lean forward just a little, resting your chin on your palm.

This’ll be good.

You don’t approach.

Of course not.

You sit five seats down at the curve of the bar and watch. Sip. Wait.

Vi orders two drinks. You recognize her voice when she growls something flirty to the bartender. Caitlyn leans in closer than she needs to, smiling like she’s trying not to.

You hate that you know what both of them sound like in bed.

You hate that you remember Vi’s laugh when she came the first time, biting your shoulder, mumbling your name like a dare.

You hate that you remember Caitlyn’s breath catching when you forced her to beg. The way she kissed you like it was beneath her. Like she liked that.

They don’t know you’re here.

They don’t know they’ve both had you.

You shouldn’t do it.

But.

You’ve never been good at walking away from a fire.

You grab your drink, slide off your stool, and saunter up like you were invited.

Vi’s elbow is on the bar, back half-turned to you, boots crossed, mid-sentence about something stupid and flirty, probably trying to impress.

Caitlyn is pretending not to look impressed.

You stop just behind them.

Close enough to be felt.

Vi turns first.

She freezes.

Her mouth opens, closes. Then she leans back slowly, her eyes narrowing, recognition blooming like a bruise.

Caitlyn follows her gaze.

And stops breathing.

You take a sip and drag your eyes over both of them like they’re meat in a butcher’s window.

“Well,” you hum. “Didn’t expect to see this pairing.”

Caitlyn blinks. “You—”

Vi interrupts, stunned. “You know each other?”

You let the pause hang just long enough to hurt.

“Yeah,” you say casually. “You could say that.”

Caitlyn straightens, voice tight. “She and I... knew each other. Briefly.”

Vi scoffs. “No shit. When?”

“Before you,” Caitlyn mutters. Her voice is clipped. Controlled.

Vi turns to you. “Seriously?”

You tilt your head. “Don’t act surprised. We weren’t exclusive, Vi.”

“That’s not the point.”

You sip again. “Oh? What is the point?”

Vi just stares. Like she's running math she doesn’t want to solve.

Caitlyn watches you. Cold. Still. That elegant, calculating gaze you remember from the last time she had your wrist pinned to a wall.

You smile, just a little. “Relax. I’m not here to make a scene.”

Vi snorts. “You are the scene.”

Caitlyn’s voice is soft but sharp: “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a local,” you say. “You’re the tourists.”

Caitlyn’s mouth tightens. Vi looks away like she’s trying to hide the twitch in her jaw.

You step forward between them. They both shift just barely. A half-step back. You love that.

“You two look cozy,” you murmur. “Something going on?”

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly.

Vi shrugs. “Nothing serious.”

“Mm.” You drag your finger along the rim of your glass. “Neither was I. With either of you.”

That lands like a slap.

Good.

Vi breathes out hard through her nose. “So this is, what—some kind of fucking joke?”

“No,” you say, tilting your chin up. “But it’s getting funny.”

Caitlyn’s tone cuts in, cool as ice: “Are you jealous?”

You laugh. “Of what? Getting passed between Piltover’s problem children like a shared cigarette?”

Caitlyn’s face hardens.

Vi mutters, “Fuck’s sake...”

You finish your drink in one long swallow and slam the glass down.

“Anyway. I’ve got better things to do than stand between two half-fucks playing pretend.”

You pivot on your heel.

Vi’s jaw clenches the second your back turns.

You disappear into the crowd like you were never even there—just a flash of skin and shadow swallowed by flashing lights and smoke-thick air.

“Fucking hell,” she mutters, pushing off the bar.

“Vi—” Caitlyn’s voice calls behind her, cautious.

But Vi’s already moving.

The beat hits harder out here. The crowd is denser, stickier, full of the kind of people who never say sorry when they shoulder past. The kind of people you blend into.

She shoves through dancers, eyes scanning for a glimpse of your hair, the curve of your shoulder, the swing of your hips. But you’re gone.

Caitlyn follows, a step behind, trying not to touch anyone, trying to stay clean in a place that feeds on dirt.

“You don’t even know where she went,” Caitlyn says, clipped.

Vi glances back, eyes wild. “She’s not just gonna vanish.”

“She does that,” Caitlyn mutters. “Trust me.”

Vi grits her teeth and pushes deeper into the mess of bodies, the flashing lights slicing over her face in sharp colors—blue, red, green, then black again. She sees a girl dancing on a speaker who almost looks like you. She grabs her shoulder and yanks her around—

Not you.

Not even close.

The girl shoves Vi off and keeps dancing like nothing happened.

Caitlyn finally catches up beside her, breath shallow. “You’re wasting your time. She knows this place.”

Vi scans the perimeter, jaw tight. “She’s not from the Lanes. Not really.”

Caitlyn laughs, mean and bitter. “No. She’s under them. Slips through the cracks. That’s what she does.”

Vi doesn’t stop moving.

She checks the far corner, pushes through a knot of half-naked dancers, scans every booth, every back wall. The bathroom line. The Shimmer dealers. Even the goddamn DJ booth.

Nothing.

Caitlyn hangs back now, arms crossed, heels clicking sharply as she trails Vi with increasingly disgusted looks. Her hair’s slightly frizzed. Her blouse—too expensive for this hellhole—is sticking to her back. She’s done pretending.

Caitlyn follow her outside as she rummages trough the back alley of the club.

“This is pointless,” she says flatly. “You’ve checked every wall in that club twice.”

Vi doesn’t even look at her. “She’s fast, not invisible.”

“She wants you to chase her.”

Vi snaps, “And what? You’re just gonna roll over and let her win?”

“I’m going home.”

Vi turns now, jaw tight. “You’re seriously just walking away?”

“Yes. Because unlike you, I don’t have anything to prove.”

Vi scoffs, stepping in close. “Is that right?”

“I’m not wasting my night dragging through alleyways because some girl from your past decided to be cute.”

Vi bristles. “She’s not—”

“Not yours, Vi,” Caitlyn snaps, eyes flashing. “Not mine either. She made that perfectly clear.”

Vi glares. “This isn’t about ownership.”

“Oh, of course not,” Caitlyn says, voice icy. “You’re just out here playing detective in the dark because what tour ego couldn’t handle being walked away from?”

Vi’s teeth clench. “You don’t get it.”

“No. I don’t. Because I left it where it belonged—back inside.” Caitlyn breathes out, close now, close enough to smell the smoke still clinging to Vi’s collar, the sweat at her neck. “You’re beneath her. You’d crawl if she told you to.”

Vi moves fast.

She grabs Caitlyn’s collar, yanks her in, mouth hard on hers, teeth and lips and spit and fury. Caitlyn gasps, but she doesn’t push back. She pulls closer, fists curling in Vi’s tank top, dragging her backward into the alley wall with a thud.

The kiss is vicious. Angry. Hot with everything they never said and everything they swore they wouldn’t feel.

Vi bites her lip.

Caitlyn growls.

Hands fumble fast Vi pushing up the edge of Caitlyn’s blouse, fingers skating over her ribs like she’s searching for a place to ruin. Caitlyn shoves Vi’s jacket off her shoulders, fingers digging into her arms, dragging lines that’ll bruise tomorrow.

They break the kiss for one breath—both panting, flushed, glaring.

“This is a mistake,” Caitlyn pants.

Vi licks her bottom lip. “That your way of asking me to stop?”

Caitlyn doesn’t answer.

She just kisses her again, rougher.

Vi grabs her hips and flips them, slamming Caitlyn back into the wall this time. Her thigh wedges between Cait’s legs, grinding hard, unapologetic. Caitlyn moans before she can stop it.. and that sound? That sound goes straight to Vi’s head.

“You still think you’re above this?” Vi hisses against her throat.

“Shut up,” Caitlyn breathes.

Vi sinks her teeth into Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn arches.

They’re a tangle of limbs now, hands under clothes, against skin, fighting for control even while giving it up in pieces. No softness. No names. Just sweat, breath, the wet sound of kisses torn open too fast.

Vi’s hand slips lower, under Caitlyn’s waistband, fingers sliding dow. Then—

“Look at the lovebirds.”

The voice cuts through the dark like a blade.

Both women freeze.

Caitlyn jerks her head toward the sound, panting, eyes wide. Vi doesn’t move right away, fingers still resting just below Cait’s navel, breath hot against her neck.

You’re leaning against the alley wall five feet away, one leg crossed over the other, cigarette between your fingers, glowing tip a slow pulse in the dark. The smoke coils around you like it belongs there.

You smile lazy, cocky, dripping venom.

“Well, don’t stop on my account.”

Vi steps back instantly, eyes blazing, face flushed in a way that has nothing to do with arousal anymore.

Caitlyn scrambles to pull her shirt down, cheeks burning, hair mussed, mouth still parted like she hasn’t figured out what to say yet.

You tilt your head, take a long drag, and exhale slowly. “Didn’t think I had to leave you two alone for five minutes before the hate-fucking started.”

Vi glares. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you answer, voice sweet and sarcastic. “Remember? Local, remember? You’re the ones in my alley.”

Caitlyn’s lip curls. “You followed us.”

You raise an eyebrow. “If I had, I’d have gotten here earlier.”

Vi steps forward, chest still heaving, jaw clenched. “You’ve been watching us?”

You smile wider. “Why? Feeling shy now?”

Caitlyn mutters, “You’re disgusting.”

You flick ash off your cigarette without flinching. “And you’re still half-undressed. So maybe don’t throw stones, Kiramman.”

Caitlyn opens her mouth—then shuts it, nostrils flaring.

Vi looks like she wants to hit something. Or fuck something. Or both.

You glance between them, pleased. Flushed, frustrated, furious,just the way you left them.

You push off the wall slowly, walking toward them, your boots echoing in the wet alley.

“Cute show, by the way,” you murmur. “All that pent-up tension. Should’ve let me join—might’ve lasted longer.”

Vi’s eyes narrow. “You think this is a game?”

You stop right in front of her, blow smoke past her cheek. “I know it is.”

Then you look at Caitlyn.

“Was she good?” you ask, soft, mocking. “Better than me?”

Caitlyn stiffens.

You grin.

“Didn’t think so.”

And with that, you toss the cigarette to the ground, crush it with your boot, and turn your back on both of them.

Two steps.

That’s all you get.

Then a rough hand grabs your arm and yanks.

Your spine hits the wall hard, concrete cold against your back, your breath knocked straight out of your chest. Vi’s there, right there pressed in close, thigh between yours, hand braced beside your head. The wall behind you groans like it’s not ready for this kind of violence.

She’s breathing like she ran a mile uphill.

Eyes wild.

Teeth clenched.

You blink once, slow. “Touched a nerve?”

Vi doesn’t answer.

Her other hand grabs your jaw, tight. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.

“You like this, huh?” she growls. “Running that mouth. Getting in our heads. Making everything about you.”

“It is about me,” you murmur, lips curling.Challenging her with just some simple words and a glare.

Vi’s eyes flash. She leans in like she’s going to kiss you, but stops just short so close her breath hits your lips.

“You think I won’t fuck the smug off your face right here?”

You exhale, slow, deliberate. “No. I think you will.”

Silence.

Tension so thick it’s choking.

Vi shoves her thigh up between your legs harder, her fingers sliding around your throat not squeezing, just holding.

Just threatening.

You tilt your head back against the wall, smirking. “What’s the matter, Vi? Caitlyn not enough for you?”

She snaps.

Her mouth crashes against yours hot, hard, brutal. Not a kiss. A punishment. You open to it anyway, let her take what she wants, let her teeth catch your lip until it stings and tastes like blood and smoke.

You hear Caitlyn breathe soft and sharp and shaky.

Good.

Let her watch.

Let her see.

Vi presses harder, her thigh wedged between yours, rough denim dragging over the thinnest part of your resolve. Her hand curls in your hair, pulling your head back, mouth dragging down your jaw to your neck, biting hard enough to make you gasp.

You don’t stop her.

You bare your throat like you want her to ruin it.

“You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” she growls, voice raw.

“You’re welcome,” you rasp, “for giving you a reason to use it.”

She snarls and grinds her leg upward, watching your eyes flutter for just a second. Just enough to make her grin.

Then her gaze flicks over your shoulder, toward Caitlyn.

Still watching.

Vi pulls back just enough to speak, her voice meant for both of you. “You like watching?”

Caitlyn swallows, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t deny it. ou turn your head toward her, lips swollen, neck raw.

“I think she does,” you whisper, just loud enough.

Vi smirks. Her hand slips under your shirt, palm splayed across your stomach. Her other hand stays in your hair, keeping your head tilted so Caitlyn has the perfect view of every reaction. Every flinch. Every filthy sound.

You let your mouth fall open. A quiet whimper leaks out, and you don’t bother hiding it.

Caitlyn’s knuckles are white now, fists clenched by her sides, like she’s trying to keep herself from reaching for something she shouldn’t.

“You can touch,” you murmur, eyes locked on her. “Or you can just stand there and ache.” You murmur as you shake your head in the most sassiest way.

Vi bites your shoulder—hard, you jolt.

Caitlyn steps forward. Not reaching for you. Not grabbing Vi. Just closing the distance.

Her voice is cold. Too calm. “You’re pathetic.”

You smile through the sting. “And you’re still watching.”

Caitlyn steps in even closer, now barely an inch from your lips, your back still held against the wall.

“But if I touch her now,” Caitlyn murmurs, voice like silk dipped in venom, “she’ll think she won.”

“I already did,” you whisper.

Vi watches, breath uneven, body flush against your back.

Caitlyn leans in, but doesn’t kiss you. Her lips brush yours, faint enough to burn.

“You can talk later,” she says softly, pulling away. “When I let you.”

Caitlyn’s hand slides up, fingers threading into your hair as she finally presses her mouth to yours. You moan into it before you can stop yourself.

She tastes like anger and pride and something clean beneath it like control wearing perfume.

Her tongue pushes in, sharp and deliberate, and she swallows the sound you make like it’s a win.

Behind you, Vi shifts.

Drops lower.

You feel her hands at your thighs, parting them like she owns them, her breath ghosting under your clothes a split second before her mouth makes contact.

Your head slams softly back against the wall.

Caitlyn breaks the kiss only to move down, her lips trailing over your cheek, your jaw, then to your neck. She sinks her teeth in where Vi left the mark earlier, sucking over it like she’s trying to stamp her name on top of the bruise.

“You’re so fucking loud,” she mutters against your throat.

And it’s true.

Vi had pushed your little dress up, bunching it around your waist. Starring at your panties before moving it to the side, admiring. Then Vi’s mouth is hot between your legs, tongue dragging slow, wet, and cruel as she sinks in deeper.

Your hands grip the wall behind you, nails scraping brick, hips jerking once—twice, as Vi locks you in place.

Caitlyn’s hand closes around your throat, thumb resting lightly on your pulse.

“Keep your eyes open,” she says.

You try.

You really try.

But then Vi moans against you hungry and it sends a shock straight through your spine. Your knees buckle, and Caitlyn catches you by the throat and jaw, holding you upright while Vi keeps working, mouth dragging you under like quicksand.

Caitlyn kisses you again. This time slower. Drowningly slow. Her lips smeared with control.

Vi doesn’t stop.

Not even when your hips start to tremble.

Not even when Caitlyn murmurs, “Already? What a mess you are.”

You can’t answer.

Your mouth is busy trying not to scream.

Caitlyn pulls back just enough to whisper into your ear.

“Don’t come yet.”

Vi growls in protest from below, the vibration almost enough to undo you right there.

But you listen.

Barely.

Caitlyn’s hand is still at your throat, fingers soft but commanding, her thumb tapping lightly against your pulse like a countdown.

“Still holding on?” she whispers, biting the shell of your ear.

You nod. Barely. Wrong move.

Vi takes it as permission.

She groans into you, tongue pressing harder, wetter, meaner.

Your hips jerk. Caitlyn’s hand tightens just enough to remind you: no.

You whimper, and it’s pathetic, but it slips out too fast to swallow.

Caitlyn’s mouth curls against your skin. “She’s trying to break you.”

Another roll of Vi’s tongue. Another flash of heat that nearly buckles your legs.

“She won’t,” you choke out.

Caitlyn hums. “You sure?”

Vi drags her nails down the backs of your thighs.

You cry out.

Your eyes flutter closed, only for Caitlyn to slap your cheek. Light. Sharp. Measured.

“Keep them open.”

You do.

You fucking do.

Tears threaten at the corners from the intensity, the burn, the pressure but you hold. You stay on that knife’s edge, breath shaking, lips bitten raw from trying to hold back the sound clawing up your throat.

Vi groans again, and Caitlyn chuckles darkly, voice rich with satisfaction.

“She wants to hear you fall apart,” she says, lips brushing your jaw. “But you won’t give her that, will you?”

You shake your head, dizzy.

Vi’s hands spread wider, forcing your legs open more. Her mouth gets sloppy now, messier, as she grinds her face into you like she’s past patience.

You’re soaking. Shaking.

So close you could snap.

And Caitlyn leans in, one hand sliding up under your shirt, fingers cool against your ribs as she whispers—

“Now.”

Your body obeys before your mind can catch up.

You break.

Hard.

Loud.

Your hips jerk. Your voice finally tears loose, raw and ragged and fucking ruined.

Vi moans into you like she just won a prize, her mouth still working you through it.

Caitlyn holds your jaw the entire time, her eyes locked on yours, watching every twitch, every gasp, every tear slide down your cheek like she owns them.

When your knees finally buckle, Vi pulls back slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, smug and wrecked herself.

Caitlyn doesn’t let go.

Not yet.

She tilts your head up and says, soft and clean—

“Next time, you’ll ask.”

And you nod, breathless.

Because you will.

[velvetsserenity]

a servant’s privilege

ambessa medarda x servant!reader

✎ word count: 1k

꩜ content warnings: mutually consensual free use, slow dominance, rough use, light degradation, strap, deep control, power imbalance, explicit sexual content, light choking, objectification, strap-on sex, mouth use, possessive dynamics

The first time she used you, you didn’t even realize it was happening.

Not until hours later, when you stood in the scullery scrubbing blood from her uniform and realized you could still feel her fingers inside you. Gloved. Precise. Unbothered.

She hadn’t looked at you once while doing it.

Just kept her eyes on the map of Noxian territory, murmuring to a general in the corner, until you came so hard you almost collapsed against the carved table leg.

Now, it’s normal.

Expected.

She doesn’t need to say a word anymore.

If you're not carrying something, cleaning something, or otherwise indisposed, your body is hers. To use. To ignore. To dress or undress. To fuck or not fuck. It doesn't matter.

You agreed, once. Quietly. Kneeling between her thighs in the low candlelight of her quarters.

She had asked if you understood what it meant to be hers.

You said yes.

And now you live with that answer.

Tonight, she returns from the war room late.

Boots heavy, gloves still on, eyes sharp from whatever small battle she just won without lifting a weapon.

You’re already waiting in her quarters. Kneeling beside the hearth, half-dressed in your servant uniform. Thin slip. Bare thighs. Collarbones visible. She likes when you look available, even when she doesn’t touch you.

She passes you by.

Doesn’t glance down. Doesn’t say hello.

Just removes her coat with one arm and tosses it toward the rack, missing it entirely. It lands in a heap near your knees.

You crawl—quietly—and pick it up. You fold it across your arms, pressing your nose to the inner lining before rising to hang it properly.

Behind you, the sound of leather gloves being pulled off.

Then the thud of her sitting.

You don’t turn around unless summoned.

But you feel her eyes on you now.

Still, she says nothing.

The quiet stretches until it aches.

Then: “Come here.”

You do.

Kneel between her legs, palms flat on your thighs. She’s seated in the high-backed chair near the window, legs spread, half a cigar burning between two fingers. Her gaze drops to your lips.

But she doesn’t offer it to you.

Doesn’t give you the satisfaction.

Instead, she leans forward. Slides the cigar between your lips herself. You hold it steady as she watches the smoke curl from your mouth.

“Don’t swallow.”

You don’t.

She leans back again. Takes the cigar back. Watches you exhale slowly through your nose, eyes watering slightly.

"Good girl."

No reward. No touch. Just that.

She shifts in the chair and opens a leather-bound report folder on the side table. Pages turn. She reads while you kneel in silence, pulse thrumming at the thought of being so near, so visible, and still untouched.

You ache. But you don’t move.

Not until she raises a hand and crooks her finger.

That’s all it takes.

You rise.

Walk silently behind her.

She’s still reading when you undo the buttons of her vest. Her blouse beneath it. Peel both off slowly, exposing the line of muscle along her arms, the curve of her shoulder. You run your fingers over each inch as if it's part of your job.

Maybe it is.

You’ve never been told otherwise.

When she leans back again, you know to step around.

She pulls your wrist without looking and guides your hand between her legs.

Her trousers are still on.

You unbutton them. Slide them down just enough. She’s not wearing anything underneath.

Of course she’s not.

She spreads her legs wider, not to offer herself—no, she doesn’t offer.

She expects.

You sink to your knees.

Your mouth replaces your hand.

She continues reading.

For ten minutes, maybe twenty. You lick and suck and stay quiet, drinking down every twitch of her hips, every breath she allows you to feel.

Her thigh presses to your cheek.

You moan against her slit when her hand tightens in your hair.

“Finish it,” she mutters.

You do.

You lick her through it, suck her through the trembling, sharp waves of her climax, your face soaked and your fingers curled into the rug as she holds you there.

When she finally lets go, you sit back, face flushed, lips swollen.

She closes the folder.

“Desk.”

One word, spoken with no heat.

You move.

You don’t hesitate. You know which way to bend, how far to part your thighs, how to arch until your ass is just high enough to be tempting without looking desperate.

The drawer opens behind you.

Her strap is black leather. Thick. Smooth. She doesn’t use it every night.

Only when she’s in a mood.

And tonight, apparently, she is.

You hear her spit in her hand. Rub it along the length of it. No lube otherwise. Just that, and you.

She lines up.

Pushes in slow. All the way.

You bite your lip hard enough to taste blood.

“Still so tight,” she growls. One hand wraps around your throat from behind as her hips slam forward again, dragging a noise out of your chest that doesn’t sound real.

Her hips find rhythm. Brutal. Unchanging.

She fucks you like it’s punishment.

Like she wants to make you forget your own name.

The desk creaks.

You hold on, cheek pressed to the wood, one hand reaching back to spread yourself wider for her.

She likes that.

“Whose cunt is this?” she asks, tone casual, bored.

“Y-Yours,” you gasp.

“Say it again.”

“Yours, General—yours—”

She grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs hard, forcing your back to arch.

“I could take you in front of anyone,” she hisses in your ear. “They wouldn’t dare look.”

You whine.

She’s right.

She’s always right.

This is what you agreed to complete access. Complete surrender. The privilege of being used.

Your thighs tremble as her thrusts get deeper.

You’re close.

So close.

But you don’t come until she tells you to.

When she finally says now, you fall apart so hard your knees buckle. You sob through it, her name tangled in your mouth.

She doesn’t stop until she’s done.

And when she’s done, she leaves you there.

Used. Gasping. Slick dripping down your legs onto the floor.

Eventually, you clean the desk.

Fold her trousers. Polish her boots.

And when she lies back in bed, arms behind her head, she lifts one finger.

You crawl into her sheets and settle between her thighs.

Because tomorrow, she might not touch you at all.

But tonight, you’re hers.

Over and over again.

★ plagarism not authorized ★

[velvetsserenity]

Bite Down

alpha!sevika x omega!reader

word count: 2.8K

content warnings: nsfw, explicit sexual content, alpha omega dynamics, power imbalance, heat-driven behavior, aggressive dominance, biting/marking, non-consensual undertones, mild pain, reader restrained and overpowered, knotting, breeding implications

She’s going feral.

Sweat glistens along her throat, veins bulging, arms straining hard enough against the reinforced restraints that the cuffs grind against the metal chair legs with a low screech. Every breath she takes is a guttural growl, like it hurts to inhale without you in her mouth. Her eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, locked on you like she’s going to eat you alive.

You lean against the wall.

Remote in hand. Thumb poised above the trigger.

“You’re not thinking straight,” you say, trying to keep your voice even despite the way your knees want to buckle. “It’s the heat. It’s making you insane.”

She snarls, teeth bared, jaw flexing like it’s fighting the muzzle that’s not even there. “I’m not fucking insane.”

Her thighs spread wider. Her hips roll against nothing. Her voice drops to a snarl. “I can smell you. I know you want it.”

You don’t deny it. Can’t. The air is thick with her scent, dark, musky, blistering with pheromones that make your brain want to shut off and your body want to give in. But you won’t.

“Sevika. Listen to me.” You push off the wall, take a step closer. Her breath hitches, nostrils flaring. “You almost mauled me this morning. You don’t even remember it, do you?”

She doesn’t answer.

Her eyes drop, stare at your thighs.

Then her body jerks forward, houlders straining, cords of muscle flexing as she lunges.

“Sevika, don’t—”

Too late.

You hit the button.

The collar lights up electric blue. It hits her like lightning, sparks cracking across her neck, the scent gland flaring red as her body seizes. She screams, an animal sound, low and pained, and slams back into the chair, the restraints yanking tight with a violent snap.

When it ends, her head droops forward. Shoulders shaking. Breath rasping hard through clenched teeth.

You step back to the wall. Let the silence settle.

“I told you,” you say softly. “You’re not in control.”

She doesn’t lift her head. Just spits blood onto the floor.

Then—quietly—she chuckles.

“You think that’s gonna stop me?” she rasps. “Keep playing with that button, sweetheart. I’m not done yet.”

The static hasn’t even cleared from the first shock before she twitches again,like her body doesn’t care it’s just been punished.

She growls, voice cracking. “You smell like you’re ready. You want this just as bad as I do, don’t lie….don’t fucking lie to me!”

Her muscles coil. Her wrists twist in the cuffs so hard they creak. The chair groans beneath her weight.

Then she lunges again.

You don’t flinch.

You press the button.

BZZZZT.

The collar lights up again, violent and cruel, a hungry electric hum snapping through the air as Sevika seizes up mid-lunge. Her back arches like she’s about to snap her own spine, and she lets out a strangled roar as her body locks down and slams hard into the chair again. Sweat flies off her jaw as she shakes, teeth gritted so tight they might crack.

When it stops, she collapses forward in the chair, arms trembling, hair clinging to her slick forehead.

And then—she laughs.

A low, broken, deranged sound.

“You think you can train me?” she huffs, voice ragged. “That little toy’s the only thing keeping me from fucking your guts full of my knot until you scream my name like it’s a goddamn prayer.”

You say nothing.

You just let her talk.

“I’ll bite you,” she says, more desperate now. “I’ll mark you so deep they’ll smell me on you for weeks. You want that? You want to be mine?”

She tries to shift her hips. The restraints don’t let her. The chair holds.

But the way her eyes glint when she hears her own cuffs creak, it’s almost euphoric.

“I’ll tear your fucking clothes off,” she moans, rolling her head against the backrest. “I’ll split you open and knot you so good you’ll forget your own damn name.”

You lift the remote.

Her eyes widen.

“No—no—fuck—please—”

BZZZZT.

She screams through her teeth, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, not from the pain, but from being denied again. She bites her lip until blood stains her mouth. Her whole body spasms in the chair, knees twitching, thighs drenched.

When the buzzing fades this time, she doesn’t speak.

She sobs.

Low, hoarse, furious.

She hangs limp in the chair, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven gasps. The collar’s still sparking faintly—tiny pulses of leftover current twitching across her flushed throat. Her mouth is wet with spit and blood. Her pants are soaked.

You think maybe she’s done.

You think maybe she’s finally broken.

And then—

SNAP.

One of the chair legs screeches sideways with a bang.

You freeze.

She moves again.

Another jolt of violent strength, and this time the cuff on her right wrist shreds clean through the leather with a sharp crack. Metal groans. The entire chair shifts with her weight.

You step back.

“Sevika,” you warn, voice razor-thin.

She lifts her head.

Hair stuck to her face. A snarl behind her teeth.

Her left arm breaks free next.

She doesn’t hesitate.

She lunges to her feet, dragging the chair’s frame still shackled to her ankles. She stumbles, roars and charges.

You press the button.

BZZZZT.

It lights her up, but she doesn’t go down. She keeps coming, mouth open in a savage moan, eyes rolling back even as her muscles spasm and her knees buckle. She crashes against the wall just inches from you, her body jerking violently from the voltage, but she slams her hand out, knocks the remote from your grip, sending it clattering across the floor.

The collar finally shorts.

Smoke rises from the edge of the device, and the light dies with a pitiful fizzle.

She looks down at you. Panting. Grinning.

“Oops,” she growls.

You try to bolt.

But her arms cage you in, one braced above your head, the other grabbing your wrist hard enough to bruise. She pins you against the wall with her hips,hot, throbbing, soaked through the fabric grinding into you like a promise.

You fight.

Push at her chest, twist in her grip, but it only makes her growl, low and mean, like your struggling’s just foreplay.

“You shocked me,” she pants against your skin, teeth grazing your jaw. “Over and over. And now you’re gonna fucking pay.”

Her hand slips between your thighs and cups you over your soaked panties, pressing into the heat of your omega core like it belongs to her. You cry out, hips jolting but her thigh is already wedged between yours, keeping you open, caging you in.

She grins when she feels the wetness. “Knew it. You’re just as ruined as I am.”

“Sevika—” You try to speak, but she doesn’t care.

She bites down on the side of your neck, hard. You yelp, writhing as she suckles the skin between her teeth, leaving a brutal, red mark. Not a mating bite. Not yet. Just a warning. A stamp.

Her hands tear your clothes apart like paper. Shirt ripped open, bra yanked down, panties dragged roughly to your knees. You’re gasping, shivering under her weight, skin flushed and raw, scent slick and begging and she devours it.

“Gonna fuck you so full of me,” she snarls, pressing her nose to your chest, your belly, your thighs. “You’re gonna forget every command you ever gave.”

Her fingers dive between your folds and find you soaked,pulsing, dripping, ready. She groans, thrusts two in without warning, and your back arches hard off the wall. The stretch is sudden, brutal, perfect.

“That’s it,” she breathes, pumping them deeper, watching your mouth fall open. “That’s my girl.”

You try to speak, tell her to slow down, to wait but you can’t. Your body betrays you, hips grinding against her palm, core clenching so tight it makes her hiss through her teeth.

“You’ve been teasing me for hours. Days.” Her fingers speed up, thumb circling your clit like she’s hunting a reaction and she gets one. Your legs twitch. Your moans get louder. “How many times you press that button? Huh? You liked seeing me beg, didn’t you?”

You shake your head, but she only laughs rough, breathless, and hungry.

“No? Then why are you this wet?”

She pulls her fingers out. You whimper.

She licks them clean.

And growls.

“You taste like heat. Like mine.”

Her boxers are off in seconds, exposing her strap she’s been wearing all day. From this morning when she planned to take you, but got interrupted by your own plans. It brushes your slick folds and you sob, biting down on your own lip as your omega instincts scream yes—yes—yes.

Sevika grins like she feels it in your scent. “There she is.”

Then she thrusts in.

All at once.

You cry out, half pain, half desperate, shattering relief, as she fills you completely, barely giving your body time to adjust. The stretch is brutal, the pressure dizzying. She grabs your thighs, lifts you higher, lets your back press against the wall as she holds you open and starts to move.

Hard. Fast. Punishing.

“You wanted this,” she grunts, slamming into you over and over. “You fucking wanted this.”

Your body gives up. Folds under her. Fists tangled in her hair, breath coming in ragged moans as she drives into you like a hammer, her knot already swelling, threatening to lock.

Her teeth are at your neck again.

Not teasing this time.

“I’m gonna mark you,” she growls. “Gonna take you.”

You gasp—“No—don’t—wait—”

But she’s past the point of listening.

She sinks her teeth into the crook of your neck, a deep, savage bite, and your body explodes.

You come so hard it rips through you like lightning. Your vision whites out. Your walls clamp around her strap, milking her, and she growls against your skin as she gives in, thrusts deep, deeper, and imagines locking inside you, her knot swelling and snapping into place.

She pulses.

She wishes she could actually fill you.

Hot, endless streams of her release would coat your insides, her hips jerking against yours, the mark on your neck still bleeding when she finally pulls back and pants against your ear.

“Mine.”

You’re still trembling.

Still trying to breathe.

Still completely, helplessly tied to her.

And Sevika?

She’s smiling now.

A wicked, blood-stained grin.

“Next time you collar me,” she murmurs, nuzzling your jaw, “you better hope I don’t break it sooner.”

plagiarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

hate or lesbian yearning?

caitlyn x fem!reader

♥︎ warnings: dom!cait x sub!receiving!reader, college au, academic/family rivals, use of cait/caitlyn/kiramman, mean/loser(?)/nerdy cait, brat/smart ass reader, strap usage, backshots, hate sex, size kink u squint ♥︎

♥︎ word count: 2k ♥︎

Caitlyn Kiramman truly hated you.

Hate was a strong word, she was well aware of that, and used it wisely when speaking not so fondly of you and your family.

“That wretched girl ruined my project!” Cait slammed her fisted hands down on her vanity, perfume bottles and jewelry pieces knocking over in the process. In the corner of the room sat her poster board, graded at a 95, sheets of research sprawled out across the room. “I hate her. I hate her parents for giving birth to her. I hate her presence, her attitude, her whole entire being!”

“Caitlyn, please!” Her mother tutted, hands resting on her daughter’s shoulders as she squeezed tightly. “You must be better than them. You cannot let yourself succumb to her actions, she does it because she’s jealous of you.”

Caitlyn looked up, staring at the angered expression looking back at her in the mirror. Her eyebrows were furrowed, glasses sliding down her nose, huffing as her blood boiled underneath her skin. She wouldn’t do such a thing, surrender to you and your spoiled little games, but would make you succumb to her.

You hadn’t noticed it at first, not really. Sure, you’d sneak a peak at Caitlyn whenever you got the chance to, out of pure curiously, nothing else (at least, that’s what you told yourself). But as she stood there, middle of your living room, next to Cassandra Kiramman who was bitching at your mom for your actions, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer.

As usual, she had her nerdy—covered up most of her face—glasses on. She wore tight black pants that hugged her hips just right, paired with a lighter colored long sleeve blouse that was loosely buttoned up. The curve of her breasts peaked out, causing you to damn near choke on your spit. And God, she had those stupid black boots on that always made your eyes roll. As your eyes traced her body back up is when you noticed it. Something… different.

There was a barely noticeable bulge staring right back at you.

You let out a soft gasp, eyes widening at the sight. And of course, her highness had noticed, smirking at your expression.

Cait turned to her mother, smiling annoyingly bright. “You know, Mother, I think we can work this out ourselves.” Her gaze turned to you, stupidly fake smile still plastered on her face as she pushed her glasses up. “Since I’m obviously the bigger person here, I’d like to sit with you and chat, alone.”

Yeah, there was obviously something big about her.

You weren’t sure how, or when you ended up underneath her, but somehow Caitlyn fucking Kiramman ended up in your room, holding you down on your bed, strap bulge rubbing against the fat of your ass.

“I always knew you had a thing for me, Kiramman. You came prepared and everything this time, huh?” You taunted, arching your back, ass pressed against her hips, hands gripping tightly at your waist. “What a fucking pervert.”

She tugged at your skirt, pulling it up harshly, exposing your perfectly shaved cunt decorated with a lacey black thong. Cait let out a dry laugh, fingers toying with the string. “I’m the pervert? Look at you,” A digit ran between your already soaked folds, sending a shiver running down your spine. “Whorish arch, sopping shaved pussy, a thong? Please… Don’t make me laugh.”

Cait slipped your panties to the side, a sticky string of arousal following the cloth, letting out a broken gasp at the cold air hitting your sensitive clit. “I-I didn’t do it for you.”

“Is that so?” She responded, unzipping her pants, a 9 inch royal blue strap slapping your pussy as it flopped out. “Who would stoop low enough to fuck your bratty, prissy, annoying self?”

Your silence dragged out, cheeks reddening up. Fuck, you hated that she was right. Despised her so much you couldn’t help but want her deep inside you, fucking your brains out so hard at the mere thought of her hatred towards you. You slid a hand underneath yourself, trembling fingers slipping between your folds, spreading out your glistening hole for her. “No one but you, apparently.”

Though she’d never admit it, Cait gawked at your opened slit, eyes widening and heart skipping a beat at your obscenity. Her eyebrow twitched as she pressed the toy up against you, spreading your ass cheeks, tip slowly sliding in.

You groaned at her slowness, rolling your eyes, turning to look at her the best you could. “No, please, go ahead. Take your time. Not like we could get caught or any—”

She growled at your sarcasm, throwing her glasses off her face. Her hips suddenly rammed into you, whole nine incher disappearing deep inside you as you sucked her in, completely stretching out your tight hole. You let out a choked, broken groan, eyes shutting tightly as her tip kissed your cervix.

“For once in your bloody life, shut the fuck up.”

This usually didn’t happen often, but you came to realize that the more you fucked with Caitlyn, the more she fucked you. Calling her out on one tiny detail that was wrong about her project in front of everyone was a low blow, but fuck, was it worth it.

Cait grunted as she thrusted in, her strokes harsh but calculated—like she’d memorized exactly which parts of you made you break. Like she knew the inside of your cunt better than you ever would.

Your face was pressed against the mattress, tongue lolled out, drool staining your sheets as she held your hands against your arched back. Your knees wobbled with every shallow stroke, fwopping sounds of your wet cunt bouncing off the walls, her goal being to see herself bulge out of your lower tummy.

“God, fuck—Cait! It was—just f-five points off! You’re gonna—kill—me!” You whisper yelled, trying your damn hardest to speak between guttural moans and the sounds of her pelvis slapping against the plush of your ass while she drilled into you.

You suddenly felt a hot, sharp pain on your ass cheek, causing your whole body to jolt forward. She’d—just smacked your ass? You scoffed, eyebrows furrowed at the stinging sensation. “Nghh! What the hell, C-Cait—?!”

“Who said you could call me ‘Cait’?” Her palm landed on the puffy, blushed raised skin again, the sound echoing in your room. You let out a small eek!, body instinctively pulling itself away from her.

“It’s Kiramman to you, brat. Know your place.” Caitlyn gripped onto your wrists, nails digging into your skin as she yanked you back onto the toy, ramming her length back inside you. You groaned out at the addictive feeling of her roughness, upper body slightly hovering above the mattress now. A pornographic, loud, curdling moan ripped out from your throat, the intense sensation taking over your body, eyes rolling back.

“If it wasn’t for your pettiness, I would’ve gotten a perfect score—mmh! Now do us both a favor and keep quiet. Wouldn’t want mommy dearest to come find you stuffed to the brim with nothing but me, would you?”

She was right, again. You totally deserved this, to be treated like nothing but a plaything for her. As much as you shouldn’t, you completely ate it up—hell, probably would’ve moaned if she’d spanked you again. Your ruined pussy dripped onto the sheets, a creamy ring of arousal coating the toy, hoping one day she’d hate you just enough to make you hers out of spite. Maybe that thought was just part of your fucked out brain—you really weren’t sure. You muffed yourself out by sinking your teeth into your blankets, greedily taking every little bit of Caitlyn that you could.

“C-Can feel you—guh!—in my fuckin’—throat!” You blubbered out, her punishing thrusts making your head light, feeling a tightness spreading throughout your body. Your legs were convulsing, knees weak and wobbly, skin sweaty and cunt aching, growing closer to your climax with each brutal rock of her hips.

Cait relished in your messiness—the whiny mewls, leaky and split open hole, drops of sweat, trembling body—she had you right where she wanted you. Unlike her, of course. She was strategic, kept her composure, even when her strap nestled deep inside her arch nemesis.

She wasn’t completely perfect herself, though. Her thighs were slick with wetness, dampening up the strap leather. Her hands were rather shaky and clammy as she held onto you harshly, using your arms as reigns. Even then, she grit her teeth, only letting out grunts and soft groans with each buck of her hips. You two were the perfect opposites in that moment—maybe a little too perfect.

“You’re gripping around me, darling,” She cooed tauntingly, her pace never faltering. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“F-Fuck you—!” You muttered out between heavy and quick pants, her pet name for you sending a pulse of heat straight down to your core. And God, did you hate that she had that effect on you. “A thousand times fuck you, Kiramman, f-fuck… me! Nnggh!—please! Like that, C-Cait, j-just like that!”

You’d finally unraveled, right at the palm of her hand. She almost didn’t notice you calling her a nickname again. Though for some reason, didn’t quite mind it as much when you were pulsating around her, drunk off Caitlyn and her cock, orgasm creeping up on you.

If it wasn’t for the sounds of arguing mothers, Caitlyn was sure the whole house would’ve heard your whorish pleads. She secretly wished they would’ve, so they could walk in on their gold star child getting fucked stupid by none other than her.

“My God, you sound like a bitch in heat.” She mocked, gulping down her own moans as the harness rubbed against her now swollen clit. “Hurry up and cum already, I’m getting bored.”

And as ashamed as you were for it, like an obedient little slut, you did. Your moans choked up in your throat, toes curling, fingers twitching, creaming all around her member as your orgasm hit you all at once. Your ears rang, white-hot heat spreading out in your body, pussy gushing all over Caitlyn, letting out high pitched mewls at the overwhelming sensation of mixed pain and pleasure.

Once Caitlyn finally let go of your wrists, you plopped down on the bed, toy sliding out of you quickly. She rolled her eyes at you and your childlike flop, letting out a huff at her now cum stained pants, straightening herself up the best she could. “Get cleaned up, one more minute alone and our mothers will tear each other’s hair out.”

You looked over at her, just barely picking yourself up from the mattress, panting and shivering, not even slightly recovered from your earth shattering orgasm. “Jeez, can I catch my breath first?”

“No,” She snapped coldly, bending over to meet your gaze. Your eyes widened at her closeness, somehow finding this more nerve wracking than the sex itself. She still looked as collected as ever, hair perfectly straight, not a sweat tear in sight. Her eyes, though hardened, had a softness to them—piercing blue irises staring into your soul. You almost never got to look into them due to her lenses, but they were beautiful. She smelled of lavender and vanilla mixed with the smell of rough sex—a scent that was a little too addictive.

“I want to see your knees wobble in front of them,” She gripped onto your face, squishing your cheeks together. “Want to see you struggle to stand up. I hope you know you deserve worse, I’m being entirely too kind.”

You gulped, keeping your mouth shut for once. Your eyes sparkled at her words, though full of spite, nodding as your head tilted in awe while butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

“Yeah,” You blinked quickly, shaking away the puppy dog eyes as you sat up. You reached over for her glasses, holding them up and out to her as your eyes traced the slender, 6 foot tall woman towering over you, lips curled up in a smirk. “Living out your sadistic fantasies with me, huh, Kiramman?”

You always did have a thing for the secretly mean girls.

[velvetsserenity]

Still Got a Mouth On You?

Dom!Sevika x Brat!Reader

word count: 3.2k

content warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, strap-on penetration, bondage (belt restraints), impact play (spanking), dominant Sevika, bratty/defiant reader, hair pulling, choking (light), degrading language, power play, emotional tension, post-argument dynamic, reader enjoying rough treatment

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before she shoved you back against the wall.

The brick was cold through your shirt, and Sevika’s forearm pressed across your chest, not choking, not holding you down. Just there, like a warning. Her body heat rolled off her in waves. She smelled like smoke and metal and sweat. That same smell that always came after a fight, one she half-won, half-lost, and couldn’t let go of yet.

Your lip curled.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

She didn’t answer. Her jaw clenched, her eyes burning holes through you.

“You’re such a sore fucking loser,” you went on, breath catching. “Gonna pin me to the wall ‘cause you can’t win an argument?”

Her hand slid up. Not slow. Not gentle. Her fingers closed around your jaw, thumb pressed rough against your cheek as she tilted your head back to look at her.

“Maybe I just like seeing you like this,” she muttered. “All mouth, no sense.”

You smirked. “And yet here you are, still listening to me talk.”

Her grip tightened. Just enough to make your pulse jump.

“You’re gonna make me do something about it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

That did it.

She shoved your shoulder hard, spinning you off the wall and into the couch. You landed half-sitting, legs still spread from the stumble, and Sevika was already on you, straddling your chest with practiced weight, fists braced on either side of your shoulders.

She looked down at you, panting from the fight, still dressed in her gear, heavy pants, tight vest, belt just starting to loosen under her hand.

“You love pissing me off,” she growled.

You grinned up at her, hands on her thighs. “Only when it gets me underneath you.”

She barked a laugh, short, humorless and reached down to undo her belt. Her pants dropped just low enough to bare her cunt, soaked and flushed and swollen.

“You’re fucking lucky I’m wet enough to want this,” she snapped.

“I make you that way,” you said, dragging your nails up her thigh. “Don’t pretend I don’t.”

Sevika grabbed your hair in one hand and your jaw in the other, tilting your head back and grinding her cunt against your mouth with zero hesitation. She pulled your face into her, slick and hot and already dripping and you moaned like you were starving.

You let your tongue drag slow, savoring the taste of her, lips parting wide as you licked up through her folds. She rocked forward, pressure heavy and immediate. No teasing. No waiting. Just raw need.

“Keep your fucking mouth open,” she growled. “You want to talk? Talk with your tongue.”

Your moan vibrated against her. You flattened your tongue and pressed it hard against her clit, curling your arms around her thighs to hold her in place, dragging your nails into her skin.

Sevika gasped—then growled.

Her hand gripped your hair tighter, pulling you against her like she needed you there, like she didn’t know how to come down without this, without the burn, the bite, the fight. Her hips rocked with short, filthy grinds, riding your mouth with no patience left in her.

“Fucking perfect,” she muttered. “That’s what you’re good for. All that noise, and this is the only time you’re useful.”

You smiled against her, mouth soaked, tongue flicking faster now. She tasted like sweat and adrenaline, like rage and need blurred into one. You moaned again and dragged her down harder against your face.

She twitched, hips jolting and cursed loud.

“Shit—fuck—don’t stop. You’re gonna make me—”

Her legs were shaking. She was panting hard now, sweat dripping from her temple as she looked down at you, your mouth red and slick, your eyes locked to hers, like you were daring her to come undone.

And she did.

Hard.

With a snarl torn straight from her throat, she came grinding down on your face, thighs clenching around your head, cunt pulsing wet and hot against your tongue. She held you there, gasping, twitching, trying to breathe through it, one hand still fisted in your hair.

You stayed put. Licking her through it. Drawing every last wave out of her, even as she hissed and twitched and pushed weakly at your forehead.

When she finally leaned back, catching her breath, you pulled away slow. Your lips were shiny, your chin wet, and your expression smug as hell.

“Still mad at me?”

Sevika looked down at you, hair a mess, chest still heaving, and then smirked.

“Not yet done with you.”

She reached for her belt again.

“You gonna collapse, or keep pretending I’m the one that’s weak?”

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

She climbed off your chest, boots heavy on the floor, and bent to snatch up her belt from where it had fallen. Her breath was still ragged, chest rising under her half-unzipped vest, cunt glistening between her thighs. But her eyes, fuck, they were sharp now. Focused.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” she muttered, walking back over.

You stretched your arms over your head, mocking like you were about to lounge. “Only when you make me.”

Sevika dropped to one knee beside you and grabbed your wrist so fast you didn’t have time to fight it.

She twisted your arm behind your back, firm and rough, and in seconds, her belt was wrapping around your forearmsleather tight, buckle biting against your skin.

You gasped, head snapping back to glare at her.

“The fuck—”

“I said shut up,” she growled. “You want to run that mouth, you do it with something in you.”

She finished cinching the belt and shoved you forward over the couch arm. Your face hit the cushion, cheek dragging across the fabric, your arms now pinned behind you. Exposed. Trapped. Thighs parted wide.

And she was already picking up the strap thick, dark, strapped tight between her hips in one sharp movement. The tension in the room cracked like static.

You tried to arch your back, challenge her again, but Sevika stepped in behind you and slapped your ass hard.

“Stay the fuck down.”

You laughed through a groan. “Make me.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Her hand gripped your hip. The other yanked your head back by your hair, just enough to hiss, “You better moan my name when I’m inside you, or I swear to God—”

Then she shoved in.

No warning. No slow build

Just the strap pushing deep into your already soaked cunt filling you fast and harsh, making your legs shake. You choked on a gasp, head rolling back, arms useless behind you as your body clenched around the stretch.

“God fuck—”

“That shut you up?” she panted, fucking into you hard enough to rock your body forward.

You moaned loud, still defiant.

“Keep—trying—”

Sevika slammed back in, faster now, hips crashing into you with a bruising rhythm. Your hands jerked uselessly in the belt binding you, face buried in the couch, breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“You love this,” she spat. “Tied up, full of cock, moaning like a bitch in heat.”

You moaned louder. Cunt clenching around the strap, slick soaking down your thighs, eyes rolling back.

“Say it,” she growled.

You bit your lip, then hissed, “Fuck you.”

She reached under you, grabbed a fistful of your hair again, and yanked your head up as she kept pounding into you.

“You already are.”

The belt bit into your wrists as you bucked against her, spine arching from the force of each thrust. She was fucking you deep, rough, the tip of the strap hitting just right every time. Her palm landed flat against your ass, the sting spreading over your skin in waves.

“I should leave you like this,” she muttered. “Bent over, dripping, begging. But you don’t beg, do you?”

You turned your head, breath catching.

“Make me.”

Sevika groaned low, filthy, wrecked and shoved the strap deep, holding it there, grinding her hips into your ass, pressing her body into yours so you felt how far gone she was.

“I’ll make you scream first.”

Her fingers found your clit—slick, swollen, aching. She rubbed rough circles, no rhythm, just friction, just need. Your thighs shook, moans breaking loose, body twisting under her grip as the pressure built and built and..

“Sev—fuck—fuck I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” she growled. “Come on. Come all over my cock, brat.”

You shattered.

Coming with a strangled cry, legs giving out, cunt pulsing tight around the strap as her fingers kept working you through it, too much, too hard, perfect.

Sevika didn’t stop until you collapsed into the cushions, panting, spent, wrists still bound, face a mess of tears and slick and drool.

She leaned over you, lips brushing your ear.

“Still got something to say?”

You groaned, breath hitching.

“…Yeah. You hit harder when you’re losing.”

Another slap to your ass

Another round already loading.

plagiarism not authorized

[velvetsserenity]

!! REQUESTS ARE CLOSED !!

✦ arcane Sevika ⤷ the steam hasn't settled – sevika x reader ⤷ still got a mouth on you? – dom!sevika x brat!reader ⤷ bite down –alpha!sevika x omega!reader ⤷ firecracker –client!sevika x brotherlworker!reader ⤷ warm up – sevika x reader x ambessa ⤷ overshadowed – sevika x reader ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – sevika x reader

Ambessa ⤷ a servant's privilege - ambessa x servant!reader ⤷ warm up – ambessa x reader x sevika ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – ambessa x reader

Caitlyn ⤷ tongue twister - caitlyn x reader x vi ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – caitlyn x reader

Vi ⤷ tongue twister - vi x reader x caitlyn ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – vi x reader

Grayson ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – grayson x reader

Mel Medarda ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – mel x reader

Jinx ⤷ arcane woman + kinks – jinx x reader ⤷ messy mornings – jinx x reader

❥ about me – velvet | she/her | wlw | 20 – feral fic writer – sevika's biggest rider/gloater – your own responsibility what media you consume – closed for ask/request

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