Sevika X Vi X Oc

Sevika x uninterested oc

The door creaked open, and in walked Sevika, one of his most trusted lieutenants. She had seen the city change under his leadership, had felt the tremors of power shifting beneath their feet. She knew the look on his face when he had something important to say, something that would change the tides of the city's underworld once again. She took her usual seat across from him, her gaze drifting to the unfamiliar Wokan who lounged in the corner, his piercings glinting in the dim light.

Silco leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and regarded her with a measured expression. "Sevika," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I've brought you here because I have a new opportunity for us. This is Zeri," he nodded towards the newcomer, "She has certain... skills that could prove invaluable to our operation."

The pierced woman, Zeri, pushed herself off the wall with a grace that belied the heavy boots she wore, extending a hand to Sevika. "Pleasure," she said with a coy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Sevika took the hand, noticing the firm grip and the hint of something else, something dangerous, beneath the veneer of civility.

The room was thick with the scent of leather and engine grease, a blend that spoke of the hard work and determination that had brought them all to this moment. Sevika's own attire, a pair of well-worn cargo pants and a crop top that left her midriff bare, mirrored the no-nonsense attitude she brought to the table. She'd earned her place in Silco's inner circle through sweat and strategy, not by playing nice with new faces.

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed Zeri. The woman's tattoos were intricate, winding like vines around her arms, hinting at a past rich in both pain and power. The piercings dotted her face and ears like stars in a constellation, each one a silent declaration of her strength and resilience. Sevika's own hands rested on her thighs, her fingers tapping out a rhythm that matched the racing thoughts in her head.

"I need someone to show Zeri around, get her acquainted with our methods," Silco continued, his gaze flicking between them. "You know the ins and outs of this city better than anyone else, Sevika."

Sevika felt a twinge of hesitation. Trusting new faces was a luxury they couldn't often afford, but if Silco vouched for her, there had to be something special about Zeri. She nodded curtly. "Alright, I'll take her under my wing."

Silco's smile was a knowing one, as if he could read the unspoken concerns playing out on her face. "I trust your judgment, Sevika. Just show her the ropes, introduce her to the crew. Let's see what she's made of."

With a nod, Sevika rose from her chair, gesturing for Zeri to follow. The newcomer's boots clicked against the concrete floor as they made their way through the warehouse, passing by the bustling workstations where Silco's loyalists toiled away. The air was charged with anticipation and a hint of unease, the kind that came with the arrival of a potential game-changer.

As they descended the metal stairs into the main work area, the cacophony of hammers and whirring engines grew louder. Heads turned to follow their descent, eyes lingering on Zeri's tattoos and piercings, the unmistakable markers of a seasoned street fighter. A murmur of whispers trailed them like a shadow, but the woman didn't seem to notice or care. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, a silent challenge to anyone who dared to question her presence.

The warehouse floor was a maze of half-assembled weapons and makeshift workstations, each manned by a member of Silco's diverse crew. As they walked through, the conversations grew quieter, until only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the vast space. It was a show of respect for Sevika, and a curiosity about the newcomer.

Zeri's gaze swept the room, eyes cold and assessing. She had seen places like this before, the heart of operations where the desperate and the ambitious came together to forge a future in the shadow of the city's gleaming towers. It was a world she understood all too well.

As they approached one of the workstations, a burly man with grease-stained overalls looked up from his work, his eyes lingering on Zeri's form. He grinned, wiping his hands on a rag and leaning against his workbench. "Welcome to the jungle, darlin'. You look like you've got the right kind of bite for this place," he called out, attempting a cocks

ure charm.

Without missing a beat, Zeri pulled a dart from the sheath at her side and sent it whistling through the air. It embedded itself in the wooden beam just above the man's head with a thunk, the message clear: she wasn't there to be ogled. The room went from a murmur to a shocked silence, the only sound the faint ringing of the dart vibrating against the wood.

Sevika's eyes widened slightly, impressed by the display. She stepped in front of Zeri, a hand on her arm to keep her from taking any further action. "This is our crew, Zeri. They're curious, not a threat. Let's keep the hostility to a minimum."

The burly man's grin faltered, his face reddening as he realized his mistake. "S-sorry, boss," he stammered, glancing at Sevika before quickly averting his gaze. The rest of the room returned to their work, the tension dissipating as if it

had never been.

Zeri withdrew another dart, spinning it in her fingers as she walked. The metal glinted in the artificial light, a silent promise of more to come if necessary. Sevika felt the weight of the crew's eyes on her back, watching to see how she would handle the situation. She knew she had to tread carefully. "Easy there," she murmured, her voice low enough for only Zeri to hear. "We're a tight-knit group here. They're just... eager to make an impression."

The two of them continued their tour, the whispers of the crew following them like a shadow. Sevika could feel the tension in the air, but she kept her cool, her eyes darting around the room, looking for any signs of trouble. As they neared the back of the warehouse, she spotted a couple of the newer recruits, their voices carrying over the din. They were huddled together, talking in low tones and casting glances at Zeri. The name 'Zuri' floated through the air, tinged with something less than respect.

Zeri's steps slowed, and she turned her pierced ear towards the group. Her expression didn't change, but Sevika could see the muscles in her jaw tighten. "Not everyone's here to make an impression," she said, her voice a low warning growl. "Some are just here to survive."

The two men at the back of the room looked up from their conversation, their eyes meeting Sevika's. They were young, probably not much older than Zeri, with the kind of cocky swagger that came from living on the edge. They had the nerve to smirk, not realizing they'd just been called out by the boss's right-hand woman.

"Let's go," Sevika said, leading Zeri towards the bar at the far end of the warehouse. The makeshift counter was made of scrap metal, bolted together with careless haste. Above it hung a neon sign that flickered erratically, casting a sickly green light on the bottles and cans lined up like soldiers on a battlefield.

The bar was a sanctuary, a place where the crew could unwind after a long day of work. The air was thick with the scent of stale beer and the faint sweetness of smoke from the herb that grew wild outside the city walls. The jukebox in the corner played a low, throbbing beat that seemed to resonate with the heart of the city itself.

Behind the counter, a bartender with a mohawk and a mouth full of piercings leaned on the sticky surface, watching the newcomer with a predatory interest. She sauntered over, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she began to clean a glass with a cloth that had seen better days. "What can I get you, beautiful?" she purred, her eyes lingering on Zeri's tattoos.

Zeri leaned against the counter, her movements languid and deliberate. "Whatever keeps the edge off," she replied, her own smile a challenge. The bartender's eyes narrowed, intrigued by the Wokan's confidence.

"Two shots of your strongest stuff," Sevika said firmly, cutting through the thickening tension. She knew the game all too well—the subtle dance of power and attraction that often played out in places like this. The bartender nodded, pouring two generous shots of a clear, fiery liquid.

"So, Zeri," Sevika began, raising her glass in a silent toast, "You must have a thing for the ladies if you can do a one-eighty that fast," she said with a smirk, referring to the way Zeri's mood had shifted from the cold silence to the warm banter with the bartender.

Zeri took the shot with a practiced ease, the fiery liquid sliding down her throat without so much as a flinch. "You know how it is," she quipped, setting the glass down with a thud, "Can't resist the charm of the fairer sex."

The bartender's smile grew a bit more genuine, and she slid another two shots across the counter. "On the house," she said, her eyes flicking to the men at the back of the room, who had now turned their attention to the game of pool in a feeble attempt to save face.

"Why so serious when you met me?" Sevika asked, raising an eyebrow as she took the second shot with a grimace. The alcohol burned a fiery path down her throat, but she kept her expression neutral. She wasn't one to show weakness, especially not to someone she had to train and trust with the future of Silco's operation.

Zeri's smile was enigmatic as she took the second shot. "You're not like the others," she said, her voice a low purr. "You're not just someone to charm or intimidate."

Sevika studied her for a moment, the question lingering in the air. "What do you mean?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Zeri leaned back against the counter, her eyes meeting Sevika's with a smoldering intensity. "You're different," she said, her voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate through the very air around them. "I can tell you've seen the worst of what this world has to offer, and you've come out the other side stronger for it."

Sevika's smile was tight, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Is that why you're here?" she asked, her voice a cool challenge. "To find someone tougher than you?"

Zeri's eyes didn't waver from hers as she took a sip from her bottle of beer, her piercings glinting with every movement. "No," she said simply, "I'm here because Silco thinks I can help. And I don't do bravado. What you see is what you get."

Her voice was smooth, a stark contrast to the roughness of the industrial sounds that surrounded them. The room was a blend of steel and sweat, a place where reputations were built and tested daily. Yet here they were, two women with a history etched into their skin, sharing a moment of quiet understanding amidst the chaos.

Zeri's gaze remained steadfast, her eyes a deep, piercing blue that seemed to bore into Sevika's soul. "I don't flirt for show," she said, her words carrying the weight of truth. "I flirt because I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it."

Sevika raised an eyebrow, the challenge in Zeri's voice not lost on her. She'd heard the whispers, seen the way the other crew members looked at Zeri, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "And what is it you want, exactly?" she asked, her voice a low murmur that only the two of them could hear over the clank of the pool balls and the distant murmur of the city.

Zeri's smile grew a little wider, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "To make a name for myself," she said, her gaze flicking over Sevika's taut frame, "And if I can do that alongside someone as intriguing as you, all the better."

Sevika felt a jolt of something unfamiliar, a spark of attraction that she hadn't felt in a long time. She took a step back, placing her now-empty shot glass on the counter with a deliberate clink. "Let's keep things professional," she said firmly, her voice betraying none of the tumult within.

Zeri's smile didn't fade, but her eyes grew shrewd. "I can do that," she said, her tone dropping to a murmur that was almost a purr. "But you can't blame a girl for trying."

Sevika's eyes narrowed, but she couldn't help the hint of a smirk that played on her lips. "I've had enough of that," she said, turning away from the bar to face the warehouse floor. "Let's get to work."

Zeri followed, her boots clicking in a steady rhythm behind Sevika's. The crew watched them with a mix of curiosity and wariness, the whispers growing quieter as they approached. Sevika knew the look in their eyes—it was the same one they'd had when she'd first arrived, a mix of admiration and fear. They knew she didn't tolerate nonsense, and they were waiting to see if Zeri was cut from the same cloth.

Please help me , I've forgot what my favorite bakugou x oc or reader I dont remember) fanfic story was, so if you happen to know what it is or if the author deleted it thx. It's on wattpad

Details:

First intro page had pictures goddess with wings for the oc and a demon with fading blackness with horns

The story start off with them already knowing each other

She is forced to pretend she’s dating Bakugos in the first chapter bc his brother comes down to help but is also making her marry a stranger to make her family happy so she pretends she loves Bakugos , he’s in on it too

I’m one chapter she sat on his lap just to prove it

Her broth becomes the sub statue teacher

The broth is the one that told Bakugos the ox is his soulmate

The demon first appears in the book naked and everything med confused as fuck

She wrote this long note how she hated them

In a chapter she writes a really long letter bc she was in therapy about how her family treated her badly it was so well written almost like a poet , she broke down reading it teloporta away away

The demon went searching she eventually came back through the hole in the wall

In therapy the therapist is concerned with bakugous aggressiveness she calls balugou and he calls all sweet and worrying

-family of angles with god like quirk

Oc can see soulmates and the girls ask for theirs but she won’t say

-she was only supposed to be able to heal, but she got the men's quick too fight

-brothers soulmate is a demon that has been with there family for a while

-she flirts with the demon in a chapter

She gets flustered by the demon because he is so well built

The quirvk

She has multiple

All women in her family get healing powers but ox got both

The first time you were

-teleport

She hurts tokyama in the us hero’s competition on accident ,no one belived her his quirk somohiw disappears, she goes to see him and puts her hand on him but it flowed and healed him , she runs to class and tells everyone

-in like the first chapter her brother tells her her mother's dead already

The guest teacher is her brother

In the first chapter the demon teleports into the classroom naked

-pretends to be with bakugou to dhow her brother she's dodnt have to go on a blind date

She sits on his lap in the first couple chapters to convince her brother she’s dating him

The demon pulled bskugou out of class and said that he is her soulmate

-her father was really abusive and in one chapter she had a nightmare but her quirk brought all of class 1a into it but everyone in 1 could see the dream were they saw her nightmare of her in a church getting assaulted

When she was little

In the morning they confront her and she’s hella nonchalant

-has wings

-Soulmate is bakugou

She hates all her family especially the brother cause he also hit her

-has a lot of chapters more than 100

- one chapter the demon teleports in on her and bakugou having sex

- in a chapter she faught her brother in training and she went all out and it didn’t end well bc somone gets hurt

She had daddy issues and she’s really confused by it in one chapter bc she hates her dad so bakugou explains it to her

Sevika x vampfem oc

In the dimly lit corridor of the brothel, a figure draped in a cloak of shadows slipped through the narrow spaces between the walls. Her eyes, a piercing shade of amber, darted around the room, searching for any sign of the pursuers that were surely closing in. The rhythmic thump of her heart seemed to echo through the otherwise silent hallway, a stark contrast to the sound of the city outside. She was a creature of the night, but even she felt a shiver of fear at the thought of what would happen if she was caught.

Her name was Elara, a vampire with a penchant for living on the edge. Her escape had been a close one, and she knew she couldn't risk being seen again. The scent of incense and musk filled her nostrils as she pushed open the first door she found, hoping it would provide a temporary sanctuary from the relentless human authorities. The room was warm and smoky, a stark contrast to the cold, stark world she had just left behind. In the corner, a figure sat lounging on a velvet chair, a plume of smoke curling up from the joint in her hand.

Sevika was not what Elara expected to find in a place like this. Her muscular frame and sharp features spoke of a warrior's spirit, not the softness that the profession of this establishment typically offered. The human woman's eyes narrowed at the sudden intrusion, the embers of the joint casting an eerie glow across her face. She took a long, slow drag, her chest rising and falling with the effort before she exhaled a cloud that obscured the air between them.

"You lost, sweetheart?" Sevika's voice was a rich purr, a sound that could soothe the most savage of beasts. But Elara knew better than to trust the deceptive calmness of a predator. She stepped into the room, her eyes never leaving the human's.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Elara replied, her own voice steady despite the racing of her pulse. "I just need a place to... rest for a bit."

Sevika's gaze traveled down to the bloodstained shirt that clung to Elara's slender frame, and the tension in the room grew palpable. The human woman stood, her movements fluid and graceful despite her size. She approached Elara, the light playing off the tattoos that snaked up her arms.

"I can see that," Sevika said, her eyes lingering on the crimson stains. "But this isn't exactly the Ritz. You got coin to pay for that rest?"

Elara nodded, reaching into her pocket to produce a small pouch of coins. She knew the value of keeping her head down in places like this, but she also knew that money talked louder than words. She tossed it onto the nearby dresser, the clink of silver piercing the quiet.

"Good enough for me," Sevika said with a shrug. "Take off that shirt. You're gonna need a clean one if you wanna blend in here."

Elara complied, peeling away the fabric to reveal the puncture wounds on her pale skin. She winced as the fabric stuck to the half-healed wounds, but she knew better than to show weakness. Sevika's eyes widened, but she said nothing, instead moving to a wardrobe and pulling out a soft, black silk shirt that was surprising

ly clean.

"Here, put this on," she instructed, tossing the garment to Elara. "You're gonna need to hide those if you don't want questions."

Elara caught the shirt, feeling a strange sense of gratitude towards the human who had just demanded payment for her safety. As she pulled it on over her head, the fabric gliding over her skin, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity about the woman before her. Who was this Sevika, and what secrets did she hold in a place like this?

The vampire's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy boots pounding down the hallway. The police were getting closer. She turned to Sevika with a silent plea in her eyes, and the human nodded, understanding the unspoken request. Together, they moved to the window, and with a surprising display of strength, Sevika pushed it open, revealing the dark alley below.

"You can't leave that way," Sevika said, her voice firm but not unkind. "They'll see you."

Before Elara could protest, Sevika pushed her down onto the bed, her larger body pinning her against the soft mattress. The human's hands were surprisingly gentle as they brushed back Elara's hair, her eyes searching Elara's for any sign of fear or resistance. Finding none, she leaned in, pressing her full lips against Elara's in a kiss that was both fierce and surprisingly tender. The vampire felt a jolt of something unfamiliar, a spark of warmth that seemed to light up the cold chambers of her undead heart.

The sound of the door being kicked open shattered the moment, and both women tensed. But Sevika didn't stop, her kiss deepening as she leaned into Elara, her body shielding hers from view. The scent of her, a heady mix of sweat and sultry perfume, filled Elara's nose as she wrapped her arms around Sevika's neck, playing along. She could feel the human's heart beating rapidly against her own chest, a thundering drum that seemed to match the tempo of the footsteps drawing closer.

The police officers burst into the room, their flashlights cutting through the smoke like twin swords of light. Sevika's eyes remained closed, her hand resting possessively on Elara's hip. The vampire's pulse raced, not from fear, but from the exhilaration of the deception. She had never felt so alive. The officers scanned the room, their eyes passing over the entwined figures on the bed without a second glance.

"Just a couple lovebirds," one of them sneered, his voice thick with the scent of contempt and sweat.

Sevika's eyes snapped open, and she glared at the intruders. Her grip on Elara tightened, her muscles coiled and ready to pounce if needed. The officers took a step back, their bravado faltering under her intense gaze. They knew her reputation; she was the brothel's most loyal and feared protector.

Elara, however, took the opportunity to add to their ruse. She began to moan softly, her lips trailing down Sevika's neck, eliciting a shiver from the human. She knew that sound would be music to the ears of the men who thought they'd found a simple romantic interlude. Her fangs, which had unconsciously extended at the scent of fear, retracted as she focused on the task at hand.

Sevika's eyes shot open, surprise and a hint of amusement flickering in their depths. She allowed Elara to continue, her hand moving to the vampire's head, tangling in her hair. The officers' footsteps retreated, and the door slammed shut, leaving the room in darkness once more.

Elara's mouth traveled lower, her kisses feather-light on Sevika's collarbone. The human's skin was warm and inviting, the pulse at her neck a siren's call that Elara had to resist. She felt Sevika's breath hitch and knew she was playing the part well. The tension in the room shifted, no longer about survival but something more primal.

Sevika's eyes searched hers for a moment, as if questioning the sudden shift in their interaction. But she didn't push Elara away. Instead, she leaned back into the pillows, allowing the vampire to continue her exploration. Elara felt the human's hand slide down her back, resting gently on her hip, her fingers flexing slightly. It was a gesture that spoke of trust and comfort, and Elara found herself responding in kind, her own hand sliding up Sevika's arm to rest on her shoulder.

But as the kiss grew more passionate, Elara felt a sudden sharp pain. She had forgotten to retract her fangs fully, and they had grazed Sevika's tongue. She jerked back, horrified, her eyes widening in the darkness. The human's hand moved to her mouth, and she pulled it away, revealing a crimson smear of blood. The metallic tang of it filled the air, and Elara's instincts screamed at her to lick the blood from Sevika's skin. But she fought it, swallowing the urge with a tremor of self-disgust.

Sevika smirked, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight filtering through the window. "Looks like I've got a little vampire bite," she said, her voice low and teasing. "I guess I'll have to get checked for rabies in the morning."

Elara's eyes widened in horror as the reality of what she had done set in. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with genuine apology. "I didn't mean to... I can't believe I... "

But Sevika only chuckled, wiping the blood away with the back of her hand. "It's alright, love. It's not like I didn't know what you were when you walked in here." She took a final drag of the joint, the end glowing a fiery red before she stubbed it out on the side of the ashtray with a practiced ease. "Now, why don't you tell me what trouble you're in with the boys in blue?"

Elara sat up, the fear slowly receding from her eyes as she studied the human before her. Sevika's casual demeanor suggested she wasn't going to betray her, but she remained on guard. "It's... complicated," she said cautiously. "Let's just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Sevika chuckled, her deep, throaty laugh echoing in the small room. "Criminal type, are ya?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. "You're not gonna start a gang war in here, are you?"

Elara managed a small smile despite her nerves. "I don't start wars," she replied, her amber eyes meeting Sevika's gaze. "But I've been known to finish them."

Sevika's smirk grew wider, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. "Oooh, a tough cookie," she said, her tone playful. "Well, if you can handle yourself, I suppose I can trust you not to cause any trouble here." She leaned back against the velvet chair, her muscular arms crossing over her chest. "But tell me, Elara, what brings a creature of the night to a place like this?"

Elara took a deep breath, the smoky air filling her lungs with a sense of relief she hadn't realized she needed. "I was running from Ammbessa," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "They've been... hunting me."

Sevika's expression froze, and for the first time since their encounter, she looked genuinely surprised. "Ambessa?" she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with a hint of disbelief. "And you thought hiding in a brothel was a good idea?"

Elara nodded, feeling the weight of her situation crash down on her shoulders. "They're everywhere," she said, her voice tight with tension. "They won't stop until they find me."

Sevika's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "Ambessa doesn't mess around," she mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "What could you have possibly done to get on their bad

side?"

Elara's eyes grew distant as she remembered the night of the gala, the opulent setting a stark contrast to the grimy room she now found herself in. She had been so careful, so charming, weaving through the crowd of influential humans like a spider among butterflies. Her target had been a wealthy heiress, her blood a sweet and potent prize. The woman had been easy prey, her laughter had been like a melody to Elara's ears, her skin warm and inviting under the cool touch of her fangs. They had danced, flirted, and Elara had led her to a quiet corner of the castle, where the shadows had whispered sweet nothings into her ear. The taste of her blood had been a heady mix of power and fear, a tantalizing dance that had ended in a crimson crescendo.

But the feeding had not been enough. Oh no, Elara had had a message to send, and she had made sure it was a clear one. She had torn through the heiress's priceless dress, leaving it in shreds on the cold marble floor. The room had looked like a battlefield by the time she was done, a testament to the primal power that surged through her veins. The woman had been left there, a mere shell of her former self, her blood painting the walls and furniture in an abstract crimson masterpiece. It was a message to Ambessa, the vampire clan that had cast her out, that she was not to be trifled with.

The aftermath of that night had been a blur of fear and exhilaration. Elara had moved swiftly, her eyes glowing with the thrill of the hunt as she danced through the castle, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Glass shattered under her booted feet, the sound a symphony of chaos that played in harmony with the pounding of her heart. The humans had screamed, their cries a sweet serenade that spurred her on. They were ants in the grand scheme of things, easily squashed under her boots if they dared to stand in her path.

Her maids, once so devoted and obedient, had been the first to feel her wrath. Their eyes had widened in terror as she had approached, her fangs bared and her eyes alight with rage. They had tried to flee, but she had caught them, one by one, their struggles futile against her supernatural strength. She had snapped their necks like twigs, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the floor like discarded rag dolls. The memory of their fear-laden eyes haunted her, a reminder of the monster she had become.

Her playthings, the humans she had kept enthralled with her beauty and power, had met a similar fate. Their trust had been her weapon, their adoration her shield. But when they had dared to speak against her, to whisper the truth of what she was, she had shown them no mercy. Their lifeblood had spilled across her marble floors, their pleas for mercy lost to the echoes of the empty halls. The thrill of their fear had been intoxicating, a heady blend of power and rage that had fueled her rebellion against Ambessa.

But now, as she sat in the cramped brothel room with Sevika watching her, Elara felt a twinge of regret for her actions. The humans had been pawns in a game she had never asked to play. Yet she had used them, and now they were dead because of it. She had hoped the chaos she had sown would serve as a distraction, a smokescreen to allow her to escape. But she had underestimated the reach and ruthlessness of her former clan.

"I didn't mean to start a war," Elara said softly, her eyes downcast. "But I had to get their attention. To make them understand that I won't be their weapon anymore."

Sevika leaned back in her chair, considering the vampire before her. "So, you're a rogue," she said, her tone thoughtful. "That's... interesting."

Elara nodded, the weight of her revelation heavy on her shoulders. "I didn't have a choice," she murmured. "They were going to use me to do terrible things."

Sevika's expression grew contemplative, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took another hit from the joint. "So, you're a rebel with a cause, huh?" She chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "I can respect that."

Elara studied the human, her gaze searching for any sign of judgment or fear. But all she found was curiosity, and a hint of amusement. "What's so funny?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Oh, just imagining the look on their faces when they realize you've turned their own playthings against them," Sevika said, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. She took another hit from the joint before continuing, "I've got a few of those in my pocket, you know. People who think they can use me and throw me away when they're done."

Her eyes took on a distant look, and for a moment, Elara could see a glimpse of the anger and resentment that lay beneath the human's calm exterior. It was a look she knew well, having felt it herself many times in her own long, tumultuous life.

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," Sevika said, her eyes returning to Elara's with a glint of mischief. "But you've gotta be careful, love. Ambessa doesn't take kindly to betrayal."

Elara nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I know," she murmured. "But I can't go back to that life."

Sevika's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye. "I can tell you're not one for the subtle approach," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the room. She leaned in closer, her hand sliding up Elara's arm to rest on her shoulder. "But sometimes, you have to play the game to win."

Her thumb traced a lazy circle on Elara's skin, sending a shiver down the vampire's spine. "You're pretty," she said, her breath warm against Elara's cheek. "But you're also a liability. If Ambessa finds you here, it's not just you they'll come for. It's all of us."

Elara stiffened at the implication, but Sevika's grip tightened gently. "Don't worry, I've got your back. But you gotta keep a low profile. Can you do that?"

Sevika's hand slid down to Elara's waist, and she could feel the human's heat seeping through the fabric of the shirt. It was a strange sensation, one she hadn't felt in a very long time. The flirtation was clear, and Elara found herself responding to it, the thrill of the chase melding with the excitement of the moment. Her eyes searched Sevika's, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all she found was genuine interest.

With a flick of her wrist, Sevika produced a worn deck of tarot cards from a drawer beside her. She shuffled them with a deftness that spoke of long practice, her movements smooth and sure. "Let's make this interesting," she said, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She tossed the cards onto the small round table between them, and they fluttered down like leaves on a windy day. "If you're going to stay here, you're going to have to prove you're not just a pretty face."

Elara's eyes followed the cards as they fell, her curiosity piqued. She had encountered human fortune tellers before, but something about Sevika's confidence made her believe that this was more than a mere parlor trick. The human leaned forward, her eyes glinting in the candlelight. "Pick one," she instructed, tapping the table with a long, scarlet nail.

Elara's hand hovered over the cards, feeling the warmth of the plastic beneath her fingertips. She selected one at random, the picture on the card obscured by the flip of her hand. With a dramatic flair, she placed it face down on the table, the sound of the slap echoing through the room.

"Alright, let's see what fate has in store for us," Sevika said, her voice a seductive purr. She reached out, her own hand brushing against Elara's as she picked up the card. The vampire felt a spark of electricity at the contact, and she had to fight the urge to jerk away.

Sevika flipped the card over, revealing the image of a woman standing in a field, surrounded by swords. The look on her face was one of determination, not fear. "The Queen of Swords," Sevika murmured, her eyes flicking back to Elara. "You're a strong one, aren't you? Ready to face whatever comes your way."

Elara raised an eyebrow. "You're a fortune teller?" she asked, trying to keep the skepticism from her voice.

Sevika chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Nah, not really," she said, placing the tarot deck back in its drawer. "But I can read people like a book, and sometimes that's all you need to know." She leaned back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest. "So, what's the deal? You in trouble with the law, or is it something more... supernatural?"

Elara's eyes narrowed slightly. "How did you know?" she asked, her voice a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Sevika's smile grew wider, showing off a set of perfectly straight teeth that looked almost too white in the dim light. "I've got a nose for these things," she said, taking another hit from the joint. "And let's just say, I've seen enough to know when someone's got more to them than meets the eye." She tapped the ashes into an ashtray shaped like a skull, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "But enough about that. How about we make a little wager?"

Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a second, smaller deck of cards. These were different, the edges worn and the backs marred by countless thumbs. "Ever played poker?" she asked, fanning the cards out in her hand.

Elara's curiosity was piqued, and she nodded cautiously. Sevika's smile grew, her teeth flashing white in the dim light. "Good," she said, shuffling the cards with surprising deftness. "We'll play a round. But not with these," she said, tossing the tarot cards onto the bed. "We'll use these."

She produced a second deck, this one smaller and more worn, the edges of the cards rounded from countless hands. They looked like they had seen more than their fair share of games, their faces smudged with a history of sweat and greed. "These are my real cards," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The ones I use when I want to win."

Elara's interest grew, the thrill of the unknown dancing in her eyes. "Poker, with tarot cards?" she asked, a hint of skepticism in her tone.

Sevika chuckled, her full lips curling into a knowing smile. "You've never played my way, have you?" she said, her voice a low purr that seemed to vibrate through the very air. "Don't worry, love. It's all just a bit of fun. And who knows, you might just learn a thing or two."

Elara's eyes narrowed, her curiosity piqued despite her reservations. "Your way?" she echoed, her voice a whisper of challenge.

Sevika's smile grew more daring, a glint in her eye that suggested she was used to getting what she wanted. "Strip poker," she said, her voice a seductive whisper that seemed to coil around Elara's spine like a warm embrace. "It'll be fun. And it'll help you relax. You're as tense as a bowstring, darling."

Elara felt a blush creep up her cheeks, the human's forwardness surprising and... intriguing. She had not felt such a rush of desire in a very long time. The thrill of the hunt, the taste of fear and the warmth of blood had been her only companions for so long that the prospect of a simple, human pleasure was almost overwhelming. She licked her lips, considering the proposal. It was a risky move, but she had always been one to live in the moment.

"Alright," she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. "Strip poker it is."

Sevika's eyes lit up, her smile growing even more mischievous. "Good choice," she said, her voice like velvet. "But if you win, you can't just ask for money or jewels. That's no fun."

Elara's eyes sparkled with challenge. "What do you suggest?"

Sevika leaned back in her chair, her gaze roaming over the vampire's body with a predatory glint. "If you win, you can ask for anything your heart desires," she said, her voice a silky purr. "But remember, this is my house, and I make the rules."

Elara felt her fangs elongate slightly at the sound of Sevika's pulse, a steady drumbeat that grew louder in her ears as the human leaned closer. The scent of her blood was intoxicating, a sweet and spicy cocktail that called to the creature within her. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to sink her teeth into the soft flesh of Sevika's neck, to taste the warmth that flowed beneath the surface.

Sevika seemed to sense Elara's struggle, her own pulse quickening slightly. Her eyes searched the vampire's face, the pupils dilating as she took in the sight of her sharp, gleaming fangs. "You want some, don't you?" she murmured, her voice a whisper that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand secrets.

Elara's gaze was locked on the pulse point at Sevika's throat, the rhythmic throb of blood beneath the skin calling to her like a siren's song. She felt the hunger stir within her, a primal need that had been denied for too long. Her grip on the chair tightened, knuckles turning white as she fought the urge to give in.

Sevika's eyes grew darker, the pupils dilating as she watched the transformation. Her own heartbeat quickened, a thrill of excitement coursing through her as she leaned in closer. "I can see the hunger in you," she murmured, her voice low and inviting. "But you're not going to bite me, are you?"

Elara's eyes snapped up to meet hers, the hunger in her gaze unmistakable. "No," she forced out, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I won't."

But Sevika wasn't so easily deterred. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Elara's cheek. "You're lying," she murmured, her voice a sultry caress. "I can feel it."

Her hand slid down Elara's arm, her thumb brushing against the vein that pulsed with the siren's call of her blood. "Why fight it?" she whispered, her breath ghosting over the vampire's skin. "You need it, and I... I'm willing to give it to you."

Sevika's eyes gleamed with a mischievous challenge, and Elara felt the last of her resistance crumbling. "A sample?" she asked, her voice a whisper of need.

"Just a taste," Sevika assured her, her hand moving to the collar of her own shirt, revealing the smooth, tanned skin beneath. "If you win, of course," she added with a smirk. "But if I win..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air like the smoke from her cigarette. Elara's eyes narrowed, the hunger in them flaring brighter. "And what do you want if you win?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

Sevika's smile grew, a playful glint in her eyes. "If I win," she said, her voice a seductive whisper, "I get to bite you." She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Elara's ear. "Anywhere I want."

Elara's breath hitched, the thrill of the game mixing with the desire that had been building within her since she had first laid eyes on Sevika. The human's scent was intoxicating, the warmth of her blood like a beacon in the darkness. She felt her fangs extend fully, the tip of one grazing the soft skin of Sevika's neck. The human's pulse quickened, but she made no move to pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, her body pressing against Elara's.

"Is that a deal?" Sevika whispered, her breath hot against Elara's ear. "A taste for a taste?"

Elara pulled back, the hunger in her eyes replaced by a mischievous glint. "Not fair," she pouted, her full lips pressed into a seductive pout. "I'm the one with the power here, the one who could take what I want without asking."

Sevika chuckled, her hand still resting on the vampire's arm. "But where's the fun in that?" she teased, her thumb tracing lazy circles on the sensitive skin. "Besides, I have my own... persuasive methods."

Elara's eyes narrowed, a smoldering ember of desire lighting up within them. "Do you now?" she purred, her voice a seductive challenge.

"Mmhmm," Sevika murmured, her hand sliding up to cup Elara's cheek, her thumb stroking the soft skin gently. "You're the hunted, darling, but in here, with me, you can be the hunter."

Elara's pout grew more pronounced, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned into the human's touch. "Should've thought of that, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe I should've just turned you into a midnight snack when I had the chance."

Sevika's laughter was rich and deep, the sound resonating through the room like the peal of a bell. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Elara's skin. "And miss out on all this fun?" she whispered, her lips brushing against the vampire's earlobe. "I don't think so."

The human's hand slid from Elara's cheek to the base of her neck, her thumb tracing a line down to the collarbone. The touch sent a shiver through Elara's body, the thrill of the hunt melding with the heat of desire. She leaned into the contact, her eyes never leaving Sevika's. "My sample," she murmured, her voice a low growl of need.

Sevika's eyes darkened, her pupils dilating as she felt the vampire's hunger. She leaned in, her breath a warm whisper against Elara's skin. "Very well," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "But remember, this is just a taste."

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed the tarot deck, shuffling it with a skill that spoke of countless games played in shadowy backrooms. She dealt the cards, their faces obscured in the candlelight. The air grew thick with anticipation as they each took a card, their eyes locked in a silent challenge.

Sevika leaned back, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she studied Elara's tense posture. The vampire's eyes remained fixed on the card in her hand, the thrum of her pulse a siren's call that grew louder with each passing second. "Ready?" Sevika asked, her voice a whisper of temptation.

Elara nodded, her eyes never leaving the human's. "Now," she murmured, the word a demand that seemed to hang in the air.

Sevika's smile grew wider, the challenge in her gaze unmistakable. She leaned in closer, her hand still resting on Elara's neck. "As you wish," she said, her voice a sultry whisper. She tilted her head to the side, exposing the pulsing vein in her neck.

Elara felt her fangs ache with need, the scent of the human's blood growing stronger with each passing moment. She reached out with trembling hands, her fingers tracing the soft skin of Sevika's neck. The human's pulse quickened under her touch, a silent invitation that she couldn't resist.

"Now?" Sevika's voice was a teasing murmur, a challenge that sent a thrill through Elara's body. The vampire nodded, her eyes never leaving the pulsing vein that called to her.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Elara leaned in, her fangs grazing Sevika's skin. The human's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she awaited the bite. But instead of sinking her teeth in, Elara paused, her breath hot against Sevika's neck. "You're sure?" she asked, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

Sevika nodded, a silent affirmation that sent a thrill of power through the vampire. Elara's grip on her neck tightened, the anticipation of the moment making her heart race. She felt the human's pulse throb under her thumb, the rhythmic beat echoing in her ears like a siren's call. "Do it," Sevika murmured, her voice a mix of excitement and challenge.

Without another word, Elara sank her fangs into the soft flesh of Sevika's neck. The human's blood filled her mouth, rich and warm and spicy with the aftertaste of the joint. She groaned with pleasure, the taste of it sending a jolt of desire through her body. Sevika's grip on her arm tightened, her nails digging into Elara's skin as she moaned softly, the pain of the bite melding with the pleasure of

the forbidden.

Sevika's eyes rolled back in her head as the vampire drank deeply, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The feeling of Elara's fangs piercing her skin was like nothing she had ever felt before, a mix of pain and ecstasy that sent waves of pleasure through her body. Her hand slid down to rest on the vampire's shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles on the taut muscles as she gave herself over to the sensation.

But as the seconds ticked by, she felt a sudden change, a strange warmth spreading from her arm up through her veins. It started in her metal limb, the one that was always a little colder than the other, and grew until it enveloped her entire body. With a grunt, she reached up and activated the hidden mechanism in her wrist, the one that controlled the purple shimmer drug she had had installed. It was a risk, but one she was willing to take for the thrill of the game.

The world around them grew hazy, the colors more vivid and the sounds more acute as the shimmer drug took effect. Elara felt a sudden lightness in her limbs, a euphoria that washed over her like a warm wave. She looked at Sevika, her eyes wide with surprise and excitement. The human's pupils were dilated, her skin flushed with the same warm glow that Elara felt coursing through her own body.

Sevika's grip on her neck tightened, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the drug hit her system. "You didn't know?" she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. "It's a little... extra... I like to keep... in case of... unexpected guests."

Elara's eyes widened as she felt the warmth spread through her, the high unlike anything she had ever experienced from a simple feeding. "What is this?" she managed to ask, her voice slurred and laden with pleasure.

Sevika's laughter was low and throaty, a sound that sent another shiver down Elara's spine. "A little something extra," she murmured, her hand sliding down to cup Elara's cheek. "Just a little... surprise." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her pupils blown wide with the effects of the drug.

Elara pulled back, the euphoria from the blood mingling with confusion. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, her voice slurred by the potent cocktail of shimmer and human blood.

Sevika's eyes danced with amusement. "Oops," she said, her voice a teasing purr. "I guess I didn't think you'd be so... thirsty." She traced the line of Elara's jaw with a gentle thumb, her eyes half-lidded with desire. "But don't worry, darling. It's all part of the experience."

Elara's mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. The drug was potent, making her feel both light-headed and incredibly aroused. She pushed the human away, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "What have you done to me?" she slurred, her eyes glazed with lust.

✨Yoooo anyone got bakugou x oc or reader smut/fanfic ✨( pls help me out I’ve read everything on tumblr )

SEVIKA X fem READER

Warning: slight smut , confort for sevika , power of play

In the stark silence of the early morning, the digital clock on the nightstand flickered 3:14 AM. The room was a chilly tomb, the only sound the distant hum of the city above. Sevika stirred beneath the heavy blankets, a shiver running down her spine.

"Where the hell is he?" she murmured into the dark, her hand reaching out to the cold, empty space beside her. The panic began to rise in her chest like a trapped bird, flapping its wings against the bars of her ribcage. The bed was still warm from his body, but he was gone.

Her eyes searched the room, darting from corner to corner, but only shadows danced in the moonlit gloom. Then she felt it—a gentle pressure on her shoulder, a soft caress that sent a spark of warmth through her body. Through the hoodie's small eye-hole, she spied a pair of arms, tightly wound around her waist, a hand resting on her chest. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

Her gaze traveled down to the hand, and she noticed it was cupping her breast, thumb idly circling her nipple. A smile played on her lips despite the nip of anxiety that hadn't fully left her. The reader was here, right beside her, curled up in a way that made her look like a koala clinging to a tree. Only, instead of a tree, it was Sevika's body giving him warmth and comfort. She reached up and gently poked his fingers, and his eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"You scared me," she whispered, still breathless from the mix of fear and arousal.

The reader chuckled lowly, her voice a warm rumble against Sevika's skin. "Couldn't sleep," she murmured, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "I just wanted to hold you closer, keep you warm."

Sevika's heart melted a little at the admission. She leaned into the embrace, her breathing evening out as the panic receded. The reader's touch was soothing, familiar, and incredibly arousing. She felt a blush creep up her neck as the thumb on her nipple continued to make lazy circles. "I've told you before," she said with a smirk, "you don't need to sneak up on me like that. I might have had a heart attack."

The reader's hand paused, and she could feel the tension in her body spike again. "I didn't mean to scare you," she said, the smile in her voice unmistakable. "But if you don't mind..." Her grip tightened slightly, giving Sevika's breast a gentle squeeze, "I kind of liked the idea of you waking up with me like this."

Sevika's breath hitched, and she felt the heat between her legs grow. "Well, you've definitely got my attention," she whispered, a playful lilt to her voice. She couldn't help but lean into the touch, her body responding instinctively. The reader's hand began to move again, her thumb and forefinger playing with the sensitive flesh, rolling her nipple gently. Sevika bit back a moan, arching her back slightly to give the reader better access.

Through the small eye-hole in the hoodie, she watched the reader's expression, the way her eyes darkened with desire. It was a heady feeling, knowing she had this kind of power over someone so strong, so capable. The reader's other hand began to trace patterns on Sevika's stomach, the warmth of her palm sending shivers through her core. Sevika's hand found its way to the reader's wrist, guiding her lower, until her fingers grazed the waistband of her sweatpants.

With a sudden jolt of boldness, Sevika sat up, yanking the hoodie off her head. The cold air hit her like a slap, but she barely noticed as she took in the sight before her. The reader was indeed naked underneath, her skin ghostly pale in the moonlight, her breasts full and firm, her stomach flat and toned. The sight made Sevika's mouth water, and she couldn't help the growl that rumbled in her chest.

"How did I not feel these?" she asked, her voice thick with lust as she cupped the reader's breasts in both her hands. They were heavier than she had imagined, and she felt the reader's heart racing under her palms. "They're like...rock hard."

The reader chuckled again, a sound that was both cute and incredibly sexy. "They get that way when you're around." Her hand slid down to the juncture of Sevika's thighs, teasing the fabric of her sweatpants. "But enough about me," she whispered, her breath hot against Sevika's ear. "How about we warm each other up?"

Without waiting for a reply, the reader's hand slid inside Sevika's pants, her fingers finding their way to the wetness that had already gathered there. Sevika gasped as the reader's long, agile digits began to stroke her clit, the pressure just right, the rhythm steady. It was like she knew exactly what Sevika needed, and she couldn't help the way her body responded, hips moving in time with the reader's touch.

"Fuck, yes," Sevika breathed, her eyes closing as pleasure began to coil in her belly. "But I want...more." The words came out as a whine, a desperate plea. The reader's grin was wicked, and she knew exactly what Sevika was asking for. With a wiggle of her own hips, she straddled Sevika's waist, her own sweatpants sliding down her legs.

"Beg for it," the reader whispered, her hand never leaving its sweet torment. Sevika's eyes snapped open, a fierce hunger in her gaze. She didn't usually beg, but right now, she would do anything for that release.

"Please," she managed to say, her voice hoarse with need. "Choke me out with your thighs." It was a strange request, one they had talked about in the throes of passion before but never tried. The reader's eyes lit up, a thrill of excitement dancing across her features.

Without a word, the reader positioned herself above Sevika's face, her thighs parting to either side of her neck. Sevika could feel the heat of her pussy just inches away, and the scent of arousal filled the air. She licked her lips, anticipation building as the reader's thighs began to close around her neck. The pressure was firm but not painful, a delicious kind of suffocation that made her head swim.

Sevika reached up, her hands grabbing the reader's hips for leverage. The reader's breath was ragged now, her eyes never leaving Sevika's as she tightened her grip. Sevika's eyes watered a little, but she didn't protest. Instead, she took a deep breath and buried her face in the warm, wet folds of the reader's sex, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness that awaited her.

The reader groaned, her thighs squeezing even tighter around Sevika's neck as she felt the first touch of her tongue. Sevika didn't hold back, licking and sucking with a fervor that left the reader gasping for air. She could feel the reader's muscles clenching around her neck, the pressure building, but she didn't stop. The taste of her was intoxicating, the scent of her arousal driving her wild.

The reader's hands found their way into Sevika's hair, gripping tightly as she rode her face. Sevika's world narrowed to the pulsing heat between the reader's legs, the scent of her sex, the sweet taste of her juices. She could feel her own desire building, a pressure that demanded release.

With a final, guttural cry, the reader's body convulsed, her thighs tightening around Sevika's neck until she could barely breathe. The pressure was intense, the feeling of being trapped exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Sevika's own climax washed over her, a tidal wave of pleasure that left her trembling and panting.

As the reader's orgasm subsided, she released her grip slightly, allowing Sevika to pull back and take a much-needed gulp of air. Her eyes were glazed over with pleasure, and a smug smile played on her lips. "Good girl," she murmured, stroking Sevika's cheek with the back of her hand.

Sevika whimpered, her eyes pleading as she tried to wiggle back down to the reader's wetness. Her own need was still burning, demanding to be satiated. "More," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "I need to taste you more."

The reader's smile was wicked, a knowing glint in her eye as she pulled away, her legs sliding off Sevika's neck. "Not yet," she said, her voice still thick with arousal. "First, I want to feel your strength." Sevika watched, bewildered, as the reader turned onto her back, her legs spread wide, inviting.

Sevika didn't need further prompting. She straddled the reader's waist, her own wetness making her slide easily along the reader's abs. The reader's eyes locked onto hers as she brought her arm up, placing it around the reader's neck. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

The reader's eyes gleamed with a challenge. "Choke me," she said simply, her voice a seductive purr. "But don't hold back."

Sevika's eyes widened, a thrill of excitement shooting through her. This was new territory, something they hadn't tried before. But she was eager to please, eager to explore this new facet of their relationship. She brought her other arm up, placing it around the reader's neck as well, the muscles in her biceps flexing. The reader's pulse throbbed against her forearm, a steady beat that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart.

Sevika leaned down, pressing her forearms into the reader's throat, feeling the soft flesh give way slightly beneath the pressure. The reader's eyes never left hers, a silent communication of trust and desire passing between them. Sevika felt a rush of power, a heady mix of dominance and submission that made her wetter with every passing second.

Her grip tightened, the reader's pulse fluttering against her arms like a caged butterfly. The reader's breathing grew shallower, and she could see the veins in her neck bulging with the strain. Sevika's own arousal was building, her clit throbbing in time with the reader's pulse. She couldn't help but rub herself against the reader's pelvis, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

The reader's eyes grew darker, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, giving Sevika the go-ahead. With a deep breath, Sevika pushed down harder with her biceps, cutting off the reader's airway. The reader's eyes widened, but she didn't panic, didn't fight back. Instead, she brought her hands up to Sevika's wrists, not to push her away, but to hold her in place, to urge her on.

Sevika felt a rush of power, a sense of control that she hadn't experienced before. She increased the pressure slightly, watching as the reader's face began to redden, her eyes glazed over with need. The reader's hands tightened around her wrists, and she could feel the throb of the reader's pulse growing stronger, more insistent.

The reader's legs wrapped around Sevika's waist, pulling her closer, urging her to apply more pressure. Sevika leaned down, her teeth grazing the reader's earlobe as she whispered, "Is this what you want?" The reader nodded, her breathing now little more than desperate gasps.

With a growl, Sevika released her grip on the reader's neck and brought her hand to her own throat, demonstrating the intensity she was about to give. The reader's eyes widened in understanding, and she nodded again, her chest rising and falling with excitement. Sevika's biceps tightened around the reader's throat, the muscles standing out in stark relief. The reader's eyes rolled back in her head, a soft moan escaping her lips as the air grew thinner.

Sevika felt a strange thrill at the sight, a mix of power and concern. She watched the reader's face closely, making sure she wasn't in real distress, her own breathing shallow as she waited for the signal to stop. The reader's cheeks flushed a dark red, and she reached up to trace a finger along Sevika's forearm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The touch was gentle, a silent plea for more.

Sevika swallowed hard, her arousal spiking as she tightened her biceps around the reader's throat. The reader's eyes rolled back in her head, and a gasping sound escaped her lips. The pressure was intense, a dance on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain, but Sevika knew the reader could handle it. She had seen the way she craved the intensity, the way she thrived on the edge.

Her hand hovered over the reader's pussy, fingers itching to delve into the wetness that beckoned her. But she didn't move, didn't make contact. Instead, she watched the reader's face, studied the subtle cues of her body language, the way her hips bucked slightly against her. It was a silent communication, a shared understanding that no words could convey.

Then it came—the signal. The reader's hand flew to her own throat, mimicking the grip that Sevika had on her neck, but this time she squeezed, the tips of her fingers pressing into her skin. Sevika's eyes narrowed, understanding dawning. The reader didn't want her to stop; she wanted more.

With a smirk, Sevika released her hold, watching as the reader gasped for air, her chest heaving with the sudden rush of oxygen. "So greedy," she murmured, a hint of mockery in her voice. She didn't move from her position, her arms still wrapped around the reader's neck, her legs still straddling her waist.

The reader's eyes snapped open, a flash of something akin to irritation crossing her features before she let out a whine. "Not fair," she protested, her voice hoarse. "You stopped."

Sevika couldn't help but laugh, the sound low and throaty. "What, big baby can't handle a little rough play?" She teased, her grip on the reader's throat loosening as she playfully poked her in the ribs. The reader squirmed under her touch, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Fine," she said with a dramatic sigh, "I'll give you what you want." With surprising agility, Sevika rolled off the bed, her legs hitting the cold floor with a slap. The reader watched her, the irritation in her eyes morphing into curiosity. Sevika stood up, the chilly air hitting her naked body and making her nipples harden into tight peaks. She strode over to the reader, who was now sitting up, her own breathing still ragged from the rush of adrenaline.

Grabbing the reader's wrists, she pulled her to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side. "Now," she said with a smirk, "who's the big baby?" The reader's eyes flashed with excitement, and she leaned back, letting Sevika take control. Sevika's hands moved to the reader's throat again, but this time she didn't choke her. Instead, she guided her down until the reader was lying on the floor, her back to the carpet.

The reader's body was a canvas of desire, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared up at Sevika with a mix of anticipation and defiance. Sevika stepped over her, straddling her neck, her pussy hovering just above the reader's face. "You want more?" she taunted, her voice a sultry whisper. "Then earn it."

With a growl of need, the reader reached up, her hands wrapping around Sevika's thighs as she tried to pry them apart. Sevika's muscles tensed, resisting the reader's urgent grip. "Patience," she chuckled, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the forehead. "You'll get what you want when I say so."

The reader's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and arousal. She knew better than to push Sevika when she was in this mood, but the desire to be dominated was burning through her like a wildfire. Sevika took a step back, allowing the reader to kneel before her, her eyes never leaving hers as she spread her legs wider. "Beg," she whispered, her voice a seductive command.

The reader swallowed hard, her eyes watering as she nodded. "Please, Sevika," she whispered, her voice a hoarse plea. "I need you. Let me taste you, let me feel you." Sevika's smile grew, the power exchange sending a thrill through her veins. She leaned down, her hand reaching out to caress the reader's cheek.

"Good girl," she murmured, the affection in her voice clear. With surprising gentleness, she guided the reader's head to her inner thigh, pressing her cheek against her warm skin. The reader's breath was hot against her, her nose nuzzling closer to the apex of Sevika's legs. Sevika's own arousal grew, her clit pulsing with anticipation.

The reader's hands wrapped around Sevika's thighs, her nails digging in slightly as she begged for more. Sevika's eyes closed, savoring the sensation of the reader's breath against her skin, the desperation in her voice. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being needed, of being desired so fervently.

With a sigh, Sevika lowered herself, the reader's nose now nestled in the soft, wet warmth of her pussy. She could feel the reader's breath hitch, her body trembling with restraint. "Good," she murmured, stroking the reader's hair. "That's what I want."

The reader's hands tightened around Sevika's thighs, her forehead pressing against her sex as she begged, "Please, let me make you come." Sevika's chest tightened, the sound of her desperation sending a shiver of pleasure through her. She leaned back slightly, giving the reader more access, and felt the warmth of her breath against her clit.

For a moment, she was tempted to give in, to let the reader consume her with her mouth. But then she remembered the thrill of the chokehold, the delicious power she had felt when the reader had been at her mercy. She decided to return the favor, to give her a taste of what it was like to be denied. "No," she said firmly, her voice low and commanding. "Not yet."

The reader whined in frustration, her eyes pleading. Sevika felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound, enjoying the control she had over her lover. "Look at me," she ordered, her voice dropping to a whisper. The reader complied, her eyes locking onto Sevika's as she hovered above her. "I want to see the desperation in your eyes when I finally let you taste me."

Sevika took another step back, her legs still trembling with need. She watched as the reader's gaze followed her, hungry and desperate. With a flick of her wrist, she beckoned for the reader to stand. The reader complied, her movements jerky and uncoordinated with need. Sevika stepped closer, her breath hot on the reader's neck as she whispered, "You want this?"

The reader nodded, her eyes glazed over with desire. Sevika reached down and grabbed her chin, tilting her head back to meet her gaze. "Then come get it," she said, her voice a low purr. The reader didn't need any more encouragement. She lunged forward, her mouth finding Sevika's clit with a fervor that made Sevika gasp.

Sevika's legs trembled as the reader's tongue worked her over, licking and sucking with an intensity that was almost painful. She leaned back against the bed, her hands bracing herself as she felt the orgasm building within her. "Harder," she gritted out, her hips rocking slightly against the reader's face. The reader's teeth grazed her clit, and Sevika's legs began to shake uncontrollably.

But just as she was about to tip over the edge, she felt something change. The reader's tongue slowed, the pressure lightened, and she pulled away slightly. "What are you doing?" Sevika growled, her voice thick with lust. The reader's eyes gleamed with mischief as she sat back on her heels, her chin glistening with Sevika's juices.

"I thought you wanted to play," she teased, her voice a low purr. Before Sevika could respond, the reader leaned in and gave her clit one final, hard suck, making her jolt and whine. Then she sat back, her hands resting on her thighs, watching as Sevika's legs trembled, her body on the cusp of release.

Sevika's eyes narrowed, her desire warring with the sudden frustration. But she knew the game, knew the thrill of being denied only made the eventual release all the more satisfying. She took a deep breath and leaned down, her hands grabbing the reader's arms and pulling her to her feet. "You want to play hard to get?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

The reader grinned up at her, her own arousal clear in the way she stood, chest heaving. "Always," she murmured, her eyes glinting with excitement. Sevika's smirk grew as she pushed the reader down onto the bed, her hands planting firmly on the mattress on either side of her head. "Fine," she said, "you want it like that?"

Without waiting for an answer, she swung her leg over the reader's face, her pussy coming down to cover her nose and mouth. The reader's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't protest, her hands moving to grip the back of Sevika's thighs. Sevika leaned forward, her weight pressing down, the fabric of her sweatpants a thin barrier between them.

"You want it that badly?" Sevika taunted, her voice low and seductive. "You'll have to work for it." She began to rock her hips slightly, the pressure increasing, the reader's muffled sounds of protest vibrating against her. The reader squirmed beneath her, trying to push her hips up to get closer, but Sevika held firm, her thighs squeezing tighter around the reader's head.

Sevika felt a thrill of power as she watched the reader's eyes widen, the pressure on her face increasing as she struggled for breath. She leaned down, her mouth just above the reader's ear. "Beg for it," she murmured, her breath hot and tickling. "Beg for me to let you come."

The reader's muffled moan was all the encouragement Sevika needed. She began to move in earnest, her hips grinding down into the reader's face, the fabric of her sweatpants growing damp with the reader's saliva. She could feel the reader's tongue probing at the seam, desperately seeking entry, but she held firm, enjoying the way her lover's body writhed beneath her.

As the reader's struggles grew more frantic, Sevika leaned in closer, her voice a whispered promise. "If you want it, you're going to have to make me feel good," she said, her words punctuated by the rhythmic pressure of her thighs. The reader nodded frantically, her hands reaching up to pull at Sevika's waist, trying to urge her closer.

Sevika took the hint, her own need building as she felt the reader's desperation. She squeezed her thighs tighter, trapping the reader's face against her sex, the fabric of her sweatpants growing soaked with the reader's saliva. The reader's muffled sounds grew louder, more insistent, and Sevika could feel her own orgasm building.

The reader's hands slid up her body, gripping her hips and trying to pull her closer, her nails digging into Sevika's skin. The pain was a delicious contrast to the pleasure building inside her, and Sevika couldn't help but groan as the reader's tongue finally found its way under the fabric. The warm wetness of her mouth sent jolts of pleasure through Sevika's body, making her toes curl and her back arch.

Agent’sevika x assassin’reader

( Sevika has been on the hunt for phantom since her first cold case , sadly shes had no luck with that , will the inly way she can capture phantom be thru unsavory ways ?)

Her eyes scanned the shadows, searching for any sign of the elusive figure she'd been tracking for weeks. The assassin known only as "The Phantom" had left a trail of bodies across the city of Zaun, each one with a crimson rose tucked neatly into the lifeless hand. Sevika knew that the rose was not just a taunt, but a signature—a declaration of war on the very fabric of justice she'd sworn to uphold.

Her heart raced as she heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching, muffled by the rain. She dropped her cigarette, the ember sizzling as it hit the puddle at her feet, and reached for her gun. The footsteps grew closer, the tension in the air thickening. And then, like a ghost materializing from the mist, the assassin appeared, clad in black with eyes that gleamed like polished chrome in the neon light.

The reader, an equally skilled assassin, had been watching Sevika from the rooftops above. She'd felt the agent's relentless pursuit, the heat of her determination, and it intrigued her. The Phantom had chosen to confront Sevika in this desolate part of the city, where the cries of the oppressed blended with the whispers of the wind.

As the agent stepped out of the shadows, the rain plastered her short, dark hair to her forehead, beads of water glinting like jewels in the neon glow. The Phantom studied her, noticing the tension in her jaw and the way her hand hovered near her holstered weapon. She knew this wasn't going to be a typical exchange of pleasantries.

"You're the one they call The Phantom," Sevika said, her voice steady despite the rapid thumping of her heart.

The assassin offered a small, enigmatic smile. "And you're Sevika. The dogged agent with a vendetta."

Sevika's hand tightened around her gun. "You're under arrest for the murder of twelve civilians and the attempted murder of Councilor Viktor."

The Phantom's smile grew. "Attempted murder? How disappointing. I guess my reputation precedes me, but not quite accurately."

Sevika's eyes narrowed. "You think this is a joke?"

The Phantom's smile never wavered. "I don't joke about my work, Agent."

Her voice was smooth, almost soothing, which made Sevika's grip on her gun tighten even more. The rain was coming down harder now, painting streaks of red across the assassin's cheeks where the light hit the crimson paint that marked her. Sevika knew she had to act fast—this was her chance to bring The Phantom to justice, to end the reign of fear that had gripped the city.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Sevika said, her voice a mix of anger and admiration. "But you're just another killer."

The Phantom cocked her head to the side, the rain matting her hair to her skull. "Is that what you believe?"

Sevika stepped forward, the water pooling around her boots. "It's not what I believe—it's what you are."

The Phantom's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. "You're wrong, Agent. I am justice, in a city where the only law is survival of the fittest."

Sevika took another step closer, her eyes never leaving the assassin's. "Justice is not a knife in the back or a bullet in the brain. It's served in a courtroom, not a dark alley."

The Phantom chuckled, the sound echoing eerily in the alley. "You think you understand the world, don't you, Agent? You're so naive, so...beautifully naive."

Her hand shot out faster than Sevika could react, grabbing the agent's wrist and twisting it upward, forcing Sevika to drop her gun. It clattered to the ground, the sound lost in the symphony of rain and distant sirens. The Phantom stepped closer, her breath warm against Sevika's cheek, their bodies mere inches apart.

"You're not the first to underestimate me," she whispered, her eyes locked with Sevika's. The assassin's touch was surprisingly gentle, almost tender. "But you might just be the last."

Sevika felt a flash of anger, and with a quick twist, she broke free from the grip. She lunged for her gun, but the Phantom was already on her, their bodies a whirl of motion in the dim light. Rainwater sprayed up as they grappled, the sound of wet fabric tearing and the smell of ozone from the nearby factories filling the air.

The Phantom's hand was like steel as she caught Sevika's wrist again. But this time, instead of pain, there was a gentle pat on the cheek, so condescending that it was almost affectionate. It was a gesture that spoke volumes of the assassin's confidence—and her contempt for the law that Sevika represented.

"You're a cute one," The Phantom said, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down Sevika's spine. "But you're not ready to dance with the big girls yet."

The assassin's hand left Sevika's cheek and she took a step back, her movements as fluid as the rain that continued to fall around them. Sevika's eyes never left her as she bent to retrieve her gun, the water making the grip slick in her hand. She raised it, her finger on the trigger, ready to end this encounter once and for all.

But The Phantom was already gone. Vanished into the night as if she'd never been there at all. Sevika spun around, scanning the alley with a feral intensity, her heart hammering in her chest. The only evidence of the encounter was the crumpled cigarette butt, a puddle of rainwater, and a faint scent of something sweet and metallic that lingered in the air.

The rain pattered against the side of the buildings, the sound a mocking applause for the Phantom's escape. Sevika's hand hovered over her cheek where she'd been patted, the condescension of the gesture still stinging. It was unlike any encounter she'd ever had, leaving her both infuriated and intrigued. Who was this woman, this ghostly killer who played with her prey before she struck?

With a growl of frustration, Sevika bent down and picked up her gun, wiping the rain from its gleaming surface. The sirens grew louder, a symphony of chaos drawing nearer. She knew she had to leave before her backup arrived—before the scene was contaminated by the inevitable onslaught of flashing lights and shouting officers. The Phantom had bested her this time, but it wouldn't be the last.

As she straightened up, her hand brushed against something in her pocket—something that hadn't been there before. Sevika pulled it out, her eyes widening in disbelief. It was a scrap of paper, folded neatly and almost dry despite the downpour. The Phantom had left a parting gift.

Unfolding it with trembling hands, she revealed a handwritten riddle. The ink was a deep crimson, matching the color of the roses that accompanied the assassin's grisly work. The words danced before her eyes, a taunting puzzle that spoke of a challenge unspoken. It read: "I am the one who brings the dawn, yet I am feared by all. Who am I?"

Sevika stared at the riddle, the rain running down her cheeks like tears. The sirens grew louder, painting the alleyway in a strobing blue and red as the first responders approached. But she couldn't tear her gaze away from the paper, the words burning into her mind. It was a game now, and she was a pawn—or perhaps a knight, sent to check the elusive queen.

The Phantom had left a trail of breadcrumbs, a dance of cat and mouse played out in crimson ink on a scrap of discarded newspaper. Sevika knew she had to follow, had to solve this puzzle before the killer struck again. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the meaning behind the words. "The one who brings the dawn, yet is feared by all." It was a twisted riddle, a reflection of the dark heart that beat within the assassin's chest.

Her eyes scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for any clue, any hint of where the Phantom might have fled to. The alley was a maze of shadows and rain, each corner hiding a potential ambush. The sirens grew louder, the lights from the approaching patrol cars piercing the gloom. Sevika knew she had to move fast, to stay one step ahead of her quarry.

Her hand closed around the cold steel of her gun, the comforting weight of it grounding her as she took off at a sprint. The rain stung her eyes, blurring her vision, but she didn't need to see to know where she was going. The Phantom's scent was in the air—a faint trace of metal and something floral that seemed out of place amidst the industrial stench of the city. It was a scent that would lead her to the truth, if she could only follow it.

The alley opened up into a wider street, the neon signs casting a garish glow on the puddles that reflected the chaotic dance of the rain. Sevika's boots splashed through the water, sending waves crashing against the cracked asphalt. The riddle in her pocket felt like a burning ember, a constant reminder of the challenge laid before her.

Her instincts led her to a nondescript door, tucked away between two dilapidated buildings. It was the kind of place that blended into the background unless you knew what you were looking for—or unless you were being led there. She hesitated, the sirens wailing in the distance a stark contrast to the sudden quiet of the moment. But then she saw it—a crimson rose, almost invisible against the darkened brick, its petals sodden with rainwater. It was the Phantom's calling card, a macabre breadcrumb in a city of shadows.

Without a second thought, Sevika pushed the door open, the hinges screeching a protest. The room beyond was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cheap alcohol and desperation. A few pairs of eyes flicked to her, the dancers on the makeshift stage pausing mid-move, but they quickly lost interest, returning to their rhythmic seduction of the patrons. Sevika scanned the room, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. There, in a corner booth, sat the reader—or rather, the Phantom. She was leaning in, a coy smile playing on her lips, her eyes locked on a woman with a tray of drinks.

The woman was young, her eyes weary but her smile forced. The Phantom's hand rested gently on her wrist, a gesture that was at once comforting and controlling. The dancer's movements grew more sluggish as she leaned closer, whispering something that made the woman's eyes widen in shock. Sevika's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the crimson glint in the assassin's gaze—it was the same look she'd had in the alley. The same look that had promised death and delivered only a taunt.

Sevika approached the table, the sound of her boots on the sticky floor a stark contrast to the music's seductive rhythm. The Phantom looked up, her smile never faltering as she took in the agent's rain-soaked figure. The dancer took the opportunity to slip away, her relief palpable as she disappeared into the shadows.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Agent," the Phantom purred, her voice a velvet whisper in the noisy room.

Sevika's eyes narrowed. "I've seen enough for one night," she said, her voice cold and hard.

The Phantom leaned back in her chair, her smile still in place. "Ah, so you've come to play detective. How charmingly predictable."

Sevika ignored the jab and focused on the woman in front of her. "What's your game?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the din of the bar.

The Phantom's smile grew. "A dance of fate, perhaps?" She gestured to the empty chair. "Care to join me?"

Sevika remained standing, her eyes scanning the room. The dancers had resumed their performance, their movements sensual and desperate, each one telling a story of survival in the underbelly of Zaun. The patrons watched with a mix of lust and apathy, their eyes glazed over by the haze of intoxicants and despair. The rain continued to fall outside, its rhythm a mournful serenade to the lives lost and forgotten in the city's endless cycle of pain.

Suddenly, a young prostitute with a body that had seen more than its fair share of hardship sauntered over to their table. Her eyes were heavy with makeup, her smile forced, but there was a spark of something genuine in them—a hope that maybe, just maybe, this encounter would be different from all the others. She slid into the reader's lap, her hands roaming over the leather of the assassin's outfit with a practiced ease.

The Phantom's eyes gleamed with amusement as she watched Sevika's reaction, the agent's jaw tightening as she took in the scene. The woman's hands grew bolder, her fingertips tracing the line of the reader's jaw, her breath hot against the cool metal of the mask. Sevika couldn't help but feel a flicker of annoyance—this was no place for a display of affection, especially not with someone as dangerous as the Phantom.

The prostitute's movements grew more overt, her hips rolling with a practiced seductiveness that spoke of a life spent in the shadows of desire. The Phantom's hands slid under the hem of the dancer's skirt, her fingers toying with the soft flesh of her thighs. Sevika's nostrils flared, the smell of sweat and desperation thick in the air. She didn't need this distraction, didn't need to see the way the assassin's hands moved with the same deft grace that had nearly disarmed her in the alley.

The dancer leaned in closer, her painted lips brushing against the Phantom's mask, leaving a smudge of red on the gleaming surface. The Phantom's smile widened, and she whispered something that made the young woman giggle, a sound that was as out of place as a bird's song in the cacophony of the bar. Sevika's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. This was a game within a game—a dance of power and control that she hadn't been prepared for.

The Phantom turned to Sevika, her chrome eyes gleaming with mischief. "You seem tense," she said, her voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through the air. "Why don't you come over here and join us? Maybe she can help you relax."

The prostitute looked up at Sevika, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. The Phantom leaned in closer, whispering something in the dancer's ear that made her giggle. The sound was a stark contrast to the tension that coiled around them like a serpent. Sevika felt a mix of anger and embarrassment, her cheeks flushing despite the chill of the rainwater that still clung to her skin.

Before she could respond, the reader's hand snaked out and caught the prostitute's wrist, pulling her closer. "Why don't you come over here and make yourself useful?" the Phantom said, her voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air.

The dancer's eyes widened in surprise, then a cunning smile spread across her face as she slid off the reader's lap and onto Sevika's, her hands running up the agent's chest. The Phantom's gaze never left Sevika's as she whispered in the prostitute's ear, the words too low for anyone else to hear. The dancer's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye, and she began to move her body in time with the music, her hands roaming Sevika's shoulders and neck.

Sevika felt the heat of the Phantom's thighs against hers, the warmth of the dancer's breath on her neck as she leaned in closer. She clenched her jaw, her eyes locked with the assassin's, a silent challenge in her gaze. But the Phantom just laughed, a low, throaty chuckle that sent a shiver down Sevika's spine. It was a sound that held no mirth, only the promise of something darker, something that Sevika couldn't quite put her finger on.

The prostitute, seemingly unfazed by the tension, began to unbutton Sevika's shirt with practiced ease, her nimble fingers slipping the fabric aside to reveal the dampened skin beneath. Sevika's hand shot up to stop her, her eyes never leaving the Phantom's. "What are you doing?" she hissed through gritted teeth.

The Phantom's laugh was a quiet, private thing, the kind that spoke of secrets shared between old friends. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Sevika's ear. "Why don't you let her?" she whispered, her voice a seductive caress. "It might do you some good to loosen up."

Sevika's eyes narrowed, the pulse in her throat racing. She knew this was a test, a game of wills played out in the most intimate of arenas. But she couldn't let the Phantom think she was unshakeable. With a growl, she grabbed the dancer by the waist and yanked her onto her lap, the chair groaning in protest. The prostitute giggled, wrapping her arms around Sevika's neck, her body grinding against hers in a display that was more taunt than temptation.

The Phantom leaned back in her chair, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. "Much better," she murmured, her voice a purr that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the nightclub. Her eyes never left Sevika's, the challenge in them unmistakable. The dancer's hands slid down the agent's body, her fingertips tracing the contours of Sevika's breasts, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made Sevika's teeth clench.

A drunk man stumbled over, his eyes glazed with lust and liquor. He lurched toward the Phantom, his hands reaching out to grab her. The reader's eyes narrowed, her grip on Sevika tightening as she prepared to intervene, but the Phantom was already in motion. With a swift, almost graceful move, she grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it, sending him sprawling to the floor with a pained yelp. The patrons barely took notice, too lost in their own miseries to care about the brief display of violence.

The prostitute who had been eyeing the reader earlier approached, a grateful smile on her face. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice a mix of relief and admiration. "That man, he's always causing trouble here."

The reader nodded curtly, not breaking eye contact with Sevika. The dancer took the opportunity to cuddle up closer to the reader, her arms looping around the assassin's neck. "You're a real hero," she whispered, her breath hot and sweet with the scent of alcohol. The Phantom's hand slid down the dancer's back, her thumb idly tracing circles on the small of her back.

Sevika felt the heat of the dancer's body against hers, the smoothness of her skin, and the rapid beating of her heart. It was a distraction she didn't need, but somehow couldn't resist. Her hand, still clutching the chair's armrest, began to tremble. The Phantom noticed, her smile widening slightly.

"You know, Agent," she said, her voice a seductive drawl, "you're much more interesting than I thought."

The prostitute had slid off Sevika's lap and was now curled up against the Phantom, her head resting on the reader's shoulder. The Phantom's hand gently stroked her hair, a gesture that seemed almost maternal in the harsh neon glow of the bar. The dancer's eyes were closed, a look of peaceful contentment on her face as she leaned into the touch. It was a stark contrast to the desperation that had been etched into her features just moments before.

Sevika watched the scene unfold, her mind racing. The Phantom was playing another game, one that she didn't understand. But she knew she had to stay focused—there was something about the assassin that was too dangerous to ignore. The Phantom's eyes met hers, a knowing smile playing on her lips. It was as if she could see the tumult of emotions and thoughts raging behind the agent's stoic facade.

With a sudden burst of strength fueled by frustration and a desperate need for control, Sevika pushed the prostitute aside and grabbed the Phantom by the arm, pulling her out of the booth. The dancer stumbled, her eyes wide with shock and confusion, but she was forgotten as Sevika dragged the reader through the crowded bar. The Phantom didn't resist, her smile never faltering as she allowed herself to be led away.

The room was a blur of neon lights and shadowy figures as they moved through the throng of people. The music grew distant, the voices of the patrons muffled by the pounding of Sevika's heart in her ears. She didn't stop until they reached a back hallway, the air thick with the smell of mold and decay. With a shove, she pushed the reader into a small, dingy room, slamming the door behind them.

The Phantom stumbled, catching herself against the wall with a low chuckle. She straightened up, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she faced Sevika. "Finally," she murmured, "you're showing some spirit."

Sevika's breath was ragged, her eyes flashing with anger and something else—desire, perhaps. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice low and husky.

The Phantom stepped closer, the click of her heels echoing in the small room. She leaned in, her mask almost touching Sevika's face. "What do you think I want?" she whispered, the challenge in her voice unmistakable.

Sevika's hand shot out, her grip like iron as she pushed the Phantom against the wall. "I don't have time for your games," she snarled, her eyes flashing. "You're a killer, and I'm here to bring you in."

The Phantom's smile grew, the crimson paint on her cheeks standing out starkly in the grimy light. "Ah, but what's the fun in that?" she murmured, her breath hot and sweet. "Where's the thrill in capturing a creature that wants to be caught?"

With a flourish of her hand, the reader leaned back against the wall, her arms spread wide in mock surrender. "What are you going to do to me, Agent?" she asked, her voice a siren's call in the dank room. "Arrest me? Or perhaps something more... personal?"

Sevika's grip on the Phantom's wrist tightened, her knuckles white with the effort. "You're under arrest," she ground out, trying to ignore the racing of her heart. "For twelve counts of murder, and attempted murder on Councilor Viktor."

The Phantom chuckled, a sound that was both mesmerizing and maddening. "Déjà vu, darling?" she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "How quaint. You think you can pin those crimes on me so easily?"

💙💙💙AU!POWDER X READER💙💙💙

Warning‼️ : angst , slight indication of smut

The friend, whose name was Briar, had a slightly bewildered look on her face, her eyes flitting around the bustling bar as if searching for something she hadn't quite noticed before. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Powder. I was just... thinking." She took a swig from her frosty mug, the foam clinging to her upper lip in a way that made Powder's heart do a little flip.

The bar, a grimy gem nestled in the bowels of Zaun, was alive with the usual mix of industrial workers and scoundrels seeking refuge from the smoggy streets outside. The neon lights flickered, casting shadows that danced on the grime-covered walls. The air was thick with the smell of spilled ale and sweat, a potent reminder of the city's never-ending toil. This was their sanctuary, a place where they could be themselves without fear of judgment—or so Powder had hoped.

Gurt, the studs-up waitress with a penchant for flirting, sailed past them, a tray of drinks balanced precariously on her well-inked forearms. She winked at the reader, her piercing blue eyes playful as she leaned in to serve the table next to them. Powder's cheeks grew hot with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something she hadn't quite identified yet. She took a deep breath, the smoky haze clinging to her lungs as she tried to ignore the flutter in her chest. It wasn't fair, she thought. Why couldn't Briar see her the way everyone else did? Why couldn't she just look at Powder like that?

Mylo, the bumbling but well-meaning bouncer, lumbered over, a toothpick dangling from his mouth as he offered a lopsided grin. "You two need another round?" he asked, gesturing to their nearly empty mugs. Briar nodded absently, her gaze still lost in the chaotic dance of the bar patrons. Mylo's eyes lit up at the prospect of serving the reader, who he'd had a not-so-secret crush on for weeks. "On the house," he said with a wink before heading back to the counter, leaving Powder feeling like a forgotten afterthought.

The reader's eyes snapped back to Powder, realizing their wandering attention. "I'm sorry," they said, placing a gentle hand on her arm, "I guess I'm just a little distracted tonight." Powder forced a smile, her stomach doing a flip as she felt the warmth of the reader's touch. It was moments like these that made her hope that maybe, just maybe, the reader felt something more than friendship.

As if on cue, the door to the bar swung open with a gust of grimy air, and in stumbled Ekko. His messy brown hair fell into his eyes, which grew wide when he caught sight of the reader's hand on Powder's waist. A flicker of something unpleasant passed across his face before it was quickly replaced by his usual cocky grin. "Well, well, well," he drawled, "What do we have here?"

Powder rolled her eyes, the heat from the reader's touch sending a jolt through her body. She felt a strange mix of annoyance and relief—annoyed that Ekko had intruded on their moment, yet relieved that the reader had made their stance clear. "Just a friendly chat," she said, her voice a tad too sweet, "Briar and I were just catching up."

Ekko sauntered over, his boots scuffing against the sticky bar floor. He leaned against the edge of their table, his arms crossed over his chest. "Is that right?" he asked, his voice dripping with insincerity. The reader's grip tightened on Powder's waist, and she felt a thrill run through her. It was like they were in a silent battle, each move speaking louder than any words could.

With a suddenness that took everyone by surprise, the reader's hand shot up and grabbed the back of Powder's head, pulling her closer. Before she could even gasp, their lips were pressing against the soft skin of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Powder's eyes widened in shock and pleasure, her heart racing as she felt the warmth of their breath against her skin. She had never been so acutely aware of every sensation in her body, from the way her pulse pounded in her ears to the electricity zapping through her veins.

Ekko's smug smile faltered, his eyes narrowing in confusion and something else—was that jealousy? The bar's noisy chatter faded into the background as the world around them grew fuzzy. The reader's hand slid around to cradle Powder's jaw, tilting it up to meet their own, and the intensity in their gaze was unmistakable. Briar's eyes snapped to them, her expression a mix of shock and something Powder couldn't quite read. The reader's eyes never left hers as they leaned in closer, the tip of their nose grazing her cheek.

Gurt's return with a fresh round of drinks was met with a scene that seemed to have frozen in time. Her steps slowed, the tray wobbling precariously as she took in the sight before her. Her eyebrows shot up, and she paused, unsure if she should interrupt the intimate moment or not. Finally, she set the drinks down with a thud, the clank of the glasses against the wooden tabletop echoing through the now-silent bar.

Powder's legs were wrapped around the reader's waist, her arms tight around their neck. The reader held her effortlessly, their hands strong and firm as they continued to leave a trail of kisses along her neck, leaving a constellation of hickies that stood out starkly against her pale skin. The air around them was charged with something palpable, something that made the hairs on the back of Gurt's neck stand on end. She had never seen Powder look so... alive.

Gurt couldn't help but slow her pace as she approached them, the tray of drinks now forgotten. Her eyes lingered on the intimate scene, a mix of disbelief and something akin to sadness in her gaze. She had always had a soft spot for Powder, despite her tough exterior. The sight of them together was like watching a long-held secret unfold before her very eyes, and she wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. She cleared her throat, trying to break the spell that had fallen over them, "Hey, you two lovebirds need some room?"

The reader chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate through the very air. They gently set Powder down, her legs sliding along the reader's body until her feet hit the floor. She felt a blush creep up her neck, her heart racing as she tried to regain her composure. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music that had started up again.

Gurt passed by with another round of drinks, her eyes lingering on the pair. "You're welcome," she said with a knowing smile, placing the tray down on a nearby table. "Looks like you two could use a bit more space," she added, nodding to the newly cleared surface. The reader grinned, lifting Powder effortlessly onto the tabletop with a smoothness that made Briar's jaw drop.

The coolness of the wood sent a shiver through Powder's body, and she wrapped her legs around the reader's waist to keep her balance. The room spun around her, a whirlwind of neon lights and curious gazes. The reader's hands were strong and warm, one at her waist and the other cradling her face as they leaned in for another kiss. The taste of metal and sweat clung to their lips, a stark reminder of the harshness of the world outside the bar's walls, yet it only served to make the moment more intense.

Powder's eyes fluttered shut, lost in the sensation of the reader's mouth on hers, until she felt something cold and wet slide down her chest. She gasped and pulled back, her eyes snapping open to find the reader holding a shot glass filled with a shimmering liquid. "What are you—" she began, but the reader had already tipped the glass over, the contents tracing a line down to her navel. The room had gone quiet, and she could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on them.

With a mischievous smile, the reader leaned in and licked the liquid off her skin, the coldness of it making her shiver. The intimacy of the act sent a jolt of electricity through Powder's body, and she could feel herself blushing from her toes to her scalp. She didn't know what was happening, but she didn't want it to stop.

The reader whispered something into her ear, so softly that the words were lost in the thumping bass of the music, but the warmth of their breath sent a shiver down her spine. They gently set her back down on the chair, their hands lingering on her shoulders. The touch was feather-light, yet it felt like it was branding her.

Powder watched, slightly dazed, as the reader slid off the table. They straightened their clothes and offered her a hand up, the gesture so casual it was as if nothing had just happened. But everything had changed. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions. She took the hand, feeling the roughness of their calloused palm against hers, and allowed them to help her down. Her legs were wobbly, and she leaned into them for a moment, her breath hitching.

They led her through the maze of tables and chairs, the crowd parting for them like they were royalty. The bar patrons whispered and smirked, some even offering congratulatory slaps on the back to the reader. The bar was a blur of neon lights and leering faces, and Powder felt like she was floating. They stopped at the back, where a hatch in the floor revealed a cramped storage space. It was where she had set up a makeshift bed, hidden from the prying eyes of the patrons and her father

.

With a gentle tug, the reader led Powder through the hatch and into the cramped space beneath the bar. The cold, damp concrete was a stark contrast to the warmth of the bar above, but it was their sanctuary. The air was stale and heavy with the scent of dust and aged whiskey barrels, a comforting embrace that had seen many of their late-night heart-to-hearts. The makeshift bed, a collection of worn-out cushions and a threadbare blanket, looked even more inviting than usual, the candlelight casting a soft, flickering glow on the tight quarters.

The reader turned to face her, their eyes searching hers with a desperation that made her heart ache. "I'm so sorry, Powder," they blurted out, their voice shaking. "I didn't mean to—I just couldn't stand it anymore."

Powder's mind was racing, trying to piece together what had just happened. The kiss, the touch—it had all felt so real, so intense. But now, in the harsh reality of the dimly lit storage room, she wasn't so sure. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The reader's hands flew to their face, their eyes wide with panic. "I'm sorry," they repeated, "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. Seeing everyone flirt with you, and Briar being so clueless—it just made me crazy." Their words tumbled out in a jumbled rush, each one more frantic than the last. "I never meant for it to go this far, but I just had to show you that you're not alone. That I... I'm here for you."

Powder took a step back, her arms wrapping around her torso protectively as she felt the warmth of the bar above them retreat, leaving only the cold, damp air of the storage room. The candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the reader's face, and she realized with a start that she didn't know them as well as she thought she did. "What do you mean, 'not alone'?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The reader's eyes searched hers, a mix of hope and fear. "I know you're in love with Briar," they said softly, "And I know she doesn't see you the way you want her to. But I do. I see you, Powder. I see all of you."

Powder's face fell, the warmth from their touch replaced by a cold, hard reality. The affection she had felt moments ago was now a distant memory, lost in the fog of doubt and inadequacy. She took a step back, the coolness of the concrete seeping through her shoes, reminding her that she was indeed still in the storage room, still in the grimy bar where she had hoped to find refuge from the harshness of the world outside. The thought that this was all some ploy, some twisted game to win Briar's attention, was like a knife to the chest. "What are you saying?" she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The reader's eyes searched hers, desperate for some semblance of understanding. "Powder, I—" They took a deep, shuddering breath, their hand reaching out to her again, but she flinched away, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective hug. The candlelight cast eerie shadows across their face, highlighting the pain etched into every line.

Powder backed away further, her mind racing with the realization that she had been played. "This was all just to get to Ekko," she murmured, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Some sick game to win him over. I'm a fool for believing..." Her voice trailed off as the weight of the situation crushed her. She had been so caught up in her own feelings, her own desperation, that she hadn't seen it coming.

The reader's face fell, their hand dropping to their side as the reality of their confession hit them. "No, Powder, you're wrong," they insisted, stepping towards her with a pleading look in their eyes. "I never meant it like that. I just..." Their voice cracked, and they reached out again, but Powder was already retreating into the shadows, the warmth of their touch now a distant memory.

With a swiftness born of desperation, she ducked under the reader's outstretched arm, her heart racing as she squeezed through the hatch and back into the chaos of the bar. The noise hit her like a wall, the music and the laughter and the clinking of glasses a stark contrast to the quiet anguish of the storage room. She didn't look back, couldn't bear to see the pain on the reader's face—pain she knew she had caused.

The party. The stupid, stupid party. It was only hours away, and she had to be ready. Powder pushed through the crowd, her eyes searching for Gurt. The studded waitress was at the far end of the bar, her arms full of drinks, her smile as bright as the neon lights that bathed her in a garish glow.

Powder's heart hammered in her chest as she approached, her mind racing with the plan that had been festering since that fateful night. She had to show them, all of them, that she wasn't some pawn to be used in their twisted games of love and longing. She wasn't a toy to be played with and then discarded when the game grew old.

The party was in full swing, the air thick with the smells of roasting meat and spilled drinks. The music was louder, the lights brighter, and the crowd had grown even more raucous. She had taken her time getting ready, painstakingly choosing an outfit that was both fiery and alluring. The tight, black corset cinched her waist, pushing her assets up and out, while the short skirt and fishnets left little to the imagination. Her blue hair was styled into wild curls that bounced with every step she took, and her makeup was a dramatic smoky affair that made her eyes pop with an intensity that could cut through steel.

Powder had hoped that by the time she arrived, the reader would be pining for her, their eyes scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her. But as she descended the stairs, she saw that they were nowhere to be found. A knot of frustration tightened in her stomach. Where could they be? This was the moment she had been waiting for—the moment she would show them all what they were missing.

Her eyes swept the room, taking in the sea of faces—some familiar, some not—until they landed on Briar. Her best friend was leaning against the bar, a look of boredom etched into her features as she sipped from a bottle of beer. The sight of her, so untouchable and oblivious, made Powder's blood boil. This was it. Time to set her plan in motion.

Sevika, the enigmatic arms dealer with a penchant for explosives, caught Powder's eye from across the room. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her leather jacket open to reveal a tight, crimson tank top that hugged her curves. Powder sauntered over, her hips swaying with a confidence she didn't quite feel. As she approached, she leaned in close, her breath warm against Sevika's neck. "Hey, handsome," she purred, her voice a seductive whisper.

Sevika's eyes widened in surprise, taking in Powder's flirtatious demeanor with a mix of confusion and revulsion. She had known the blue-haired girl for years, and this was definitely not the greeting she was expecting. "P-Powder?" she stuttered, her hand tightening around her beer. "What are you doing?"

Ignoring the question, Powder slid closer, her hand grabbing Sevika's forearm. "You look absolutely stunning tonight," she said, her voice thick with a forced sweetness that made Sevika's skin crawl. She felt the eyes of the bar upon her, watching the spectacle unfold. Her stomach twisted into knots as she realized what Powder was trying to do.

Sevika's eyes searched the room, desperate to find someone—anyone—who could help her out of this situation. But everyone was too caught up in their own conversations and drinks to notice the tension. "Powder," she began, her voice firm but shaking, "I think you've had a bit too much to drink." She tried to gently pull her arm away, but Powder's grip tightened, her nails digging into Sevika's skin.

"Come on," Powder said, her voice a syrupy sweetness that didn't quite mask the desperation beneath, "Don't you think I've earned some attention?" Her eyes, once filled with mischief and light, were now dark and intense. "You know you want me." She leaned in closer, her breath hot and insistent on Sevika's cheek.

Sevika's face contorted in revulsion, and she tried to pull away, her voice a mix of anger and fear. "Powder, what the hell is wrong with you?" But Powder's grip was unyielding.

The reader watched the scene unfold from the shadows, their heart in their throat. They hadn't meant for it to go this far—they had only wanted to comfort Powder, to show her that she was more than just a pawn in everyone else's games. Now, as they saw her using the same tactics she had accused them of, they couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger.

Sevika's eyes darted around the room, her discomfort growing more apparent with each passing second. She tried to shake Powder off, but the girl's grip was like iron. "Powder, stop," she hissed, her voice barely carrying over the din of the party. "You're hurting me."

Powder leaned in closer, her voice a whisper that was lost in the cacophony of the bar. "Just one dance," she begged, her eyes shimmering with an intensity that was almost feverish. "Just one dance, and I'll leave you alone."

Sevika's eyes widened in alarm, her heart racing as she felt the room closing in around her. Just as she was about to push Powder away, she saw the reader emerge from the shadows. Their gaze was apologetic as they approached, their eyes never leaving hers. "Sevika," they said, their voice cutting through the noise, "I'm sorry, but I think it's time for me to take Jinx home."

Sevika's eyes flickered to the reader, a spark of understanding passing between them. "Good luck," she murmured, a smirk playing on her lips. She managed to break free from Powder's grip, taking a step back and smoothing down her jacket. "And be careful," she added with a wink. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to our little firecracker here."

Powder's expression grew stormy, her grip on Sevika's arm loosening as she spun around to face the reader. The room seemed to tilt and swirl around her, the music growing louder, the lights brighter, until all she could see was the person standing in front of her, their eyes filled with a mix of concern and disappointment. "You," she spat, the anger in her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "This is all your fault."

The reader's face fell, their eyes searching hers with a desperate hope. "Powder, please, let's talk about this," they pleaded, reaching out a hand. But she was already backing away, her chest heaving with every breath.

Fugitive Sevika x farmers daughter

As you approached the farthest stall, you heard a faint rustling, something out of place in the usual pattern of animal sounds. Your heart quickened as your eyes fell upon a figure huddled in the corner, shrouded in darkness. Instinctively, your hand flew to the hoe propped against the wall, gripping it tightly as you stepped closer, the wood cool and reassuring under your palm. The figure looked up, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. It was a woman, her eyes wide with fear, a stark contrast to the determination etched into the lines of her face. She was tall, muscular, and her clothes were torn, as though she’d been through a battle.

The resemblance was undeniable—this woman could be the fugitive everyone in town talked about. The one whose face haunted the bulletin boards, the one with a hefty price on her head. But there was something about her, something that made you hesitate. Perhaps it was the way she met your gaze, unflinching, or the quiet strength that radiated from her despite her clear exhaustion. You'd always had a soft spot for those who'd been dealt a rough hand, for the strong ones who hadn’t let their circumstances break them.

"Who are you?" you demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "What are you doing in my father's barn?"

The woman pushed herself to her feet, her movements fluid and surprisingly graceful despite her weary state. She took a step towards you, her hand outstretched in a non-threatening gesture. "I mean you no harm," she said, her voice low and soothing. "My name is Sevika. I've been on the run for days now, and I stumbled upon your farm in desperate need of shelter."

Her honesty was disarming, and you felt your grip on the hoe loosen slightly. You studied her, noticing the dirt caked under her fingernails, the bruises peeking out from beneath her shirt sleeves. "What's your business here?" you asked, still cautious.

"I've been falsely accused," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of weariness. "They say I've committed crimes I haven't. I'm looking for the truth, for a way to clear my name. Your farm seemed like a safe place to rest, just for the night."

You eyed her warily, the stories of the fugitive's supposed ferocity weighing on your mind. Yet, there was something in Sevika's gaze that spoke of innocence, or at least, of a deep-seated pain that you couldn't bring yourself to fear. You made a split-second decision, one that would change the trajectory of both your lives. "You can stay," you said, lowering the hoe. "But you must be gone by morning."

Sevika's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, she nodded solemnly. "I understand," she said. "I won't cause any trouble. I just need somewhere to lay low."

You led her to a secluded corner of the barn, where you had a small cot set up for when you had to stay overnight to keep an eye on a newborn calf or a sick animal. You handed her a blanket and a bucket of water. "You can clean up here," you offered, keeping your voice low. "I'll bring you some food when I can."

Sevika nodded her thanks, and as you left her to rest, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her story than what she'd shared. Her eyes had held a depth of pain that suggested a history of struggle and survival. You returned to the house, your thoughts racing with questions about her past and the reasons behind the bounty on her head.

Breakfast was a silent affair, your father's curiosity piqued by your distraction, but you brushed off his inquiries with a shrug and a promise of a full explanation later. You couldn't risk telling him about Sevika; not until you were certain of her intentions. Instead, you gathered some leftover stew and a chunk of bread, along with a clean set of your brother's old clothes that had been mended countless times.

When you returned to the barn, the scene before you was not what you had expected. Sevika lay in the jumbo barrel you had used to clean the pigs, but she had thoroughly cleaned it before resting there. Her body was submerged in the water, which shimmered with the light reflecting off the barn's corrugated tin roof. She had removed her torn and dirty clothes, leaving them in a soggy pile beside the barrel. You felt a blush creep up your neck, but quickly composed yourself, reminding yourself that you had seen worse on the farm.

Her muscles looked relaxed, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Her face, now free of the grime of the road, revealed a beauty that had been obscured before. High cheekbones and full, pink lips made you bite yours to keep from making a sound that might wake her. Her eyes fluttered open as you approached, and she looked up at you, unabashedly naked, and for a moment, you both just stared.

The air was thick with tension as she slowly climbed out of the barrel, the water cascading down her body, creating rivulets that traced the contours of her muscles. She reached for the towel you had brought and wrapped it around herself, tucking it tightly under her arms. The fabric clung to her wet skin, revealing more than it concealed, and you had to avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks grow hot.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours as she took the plate of stew and bread from your outstretched hand. She sat on the bale of hay you had designated for her, her movements deliberate and controlled. You watched as she began to eat, the silence between you stretching like a tightrope.

As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of something shimmering on the floor beside the barrel. You stepped closer, your curiosity getting the better of you, and picked up the object. It was a necklace, the chain delicate and interwoven with intricate patterns that glinted in the light. A single stone, a sapphire, you thought, hung from the center, surrounded by smaller diamonds. It was a stark contrast to the roughness of her attire and the starkness of her situation.

You felt a sudden urge to know more about Sevika, to unravel the mystery she had brought to your quiet farm. You set the necklace on the stool next to the barrel, deciding to ask her about it later, and made your way back to the house to start the day's work.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the fields when you returned to the barn later, expecting to find Sevika dressed and ready to leave. But instead, she was curled up in the jumbo barrel, fast asleep, her naked form submerged in the water. The sight of her there, vulnerable and unguarded, filled you with a strange mix of emotions—part protectiveness, part fascination. You paused, watching the way the light played over her skin, the gentle curve of her shoulder, the strength in her arms. Her long, dark hair floated around her like a halo, creating a stark contrast against the water's surface.

Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, the only sound in the barn other than the occasional snort from the horses or the distant crow of a rooster. The sight of her, so at peace in such an unlikely sanctuary, made you feel like you were intruding on a sacred moment. Yet, you couldn’t help but be drawn closer, your curiosity piqued by the delicate necklace you had noticed earlier.

You set aside the bucket of feed you were carrying and approached the makeshift bed. The smell of damp hay and clean skin mingled together, creating an unexpectedly pleasant aroma. Carefully, you laid the blanket and pillow down, trying not to disturb her rest. You arranged the pillow to be more comfortable, plumping it up slightly so that it cradled the base of her neck. The soft fabric of the blanket was a stark contrast to the rough straw beneath it. A few loose strands of hay clung to her skin, and you gently brushed them away, feeling a strange sense of tenderness that you couldn’t quite explain.

Next, you placed the apples you had brought with you at the foot of the bed, feeling a bit like you were setting a scene from a storybook. They were ripe and red, the kind that looked too perfect to be real. You hoped they would be a welcome sight when she woke, a small gesture of hospitality to someone who had likely not enjoyed such comforts in a long while. You stepped back and surveyed your work, feeling a sense of pride in the small improvements you had made to her temporary shelter.

The barn had always been a place of solace for you, a sanctuary from the daily chores and expectations that came with being the farmer’s daughter. You knew every inch of it, from the loft where you had hidden as a child to the secret spot where the cats liked to give birth to their litters. And now, it was serving as refuge for someone who needed it more than you could ever imagine.

You had left Sevika to rest, her safety and comfort your priority, and when you returned a few hours later, the scene before you was one of peace and tranquility. She was dressed in your brother’s clothes, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that made you feel a sudden pang of something you didn’t quite recognize. Her wet hair was slicked back, revealing the strong line of her jaw and the proud tilt of her chin. And she wasn’t alone. The pregnant mare you had been so worried about had given birth, and there she was, cradling the foal in the straw, her own arms wrapped around the mother’s neck in a silent pact of protection and kinship.

Sevika looked up as you approached, the softness in her eyes speaking volumes. "They're okay," she whispered, nodding towards the horses. "The mother was in distress, and the foal was breech. I managed to help them."

Your heart swelled with a mix of relief and admiration for this woman who had not only found refuge in your barn but had also brought new life into it. You knelt beside her, reaching out to gently stroke the foal's velvety muzzle. Its eyes fluttered open, and it nuzzled your hand, seeking warmth and comfort.

"You have quite the gentle touch," you said softly, smiling at Sevika. She returned the smile, her expression one of quiet pride. The bond between the two of them was undeniable. "Thank you for helping her."

✨✨jinx x oc ✨✨

Tags warrning : somnophilia whith consent sub jinx slight power play

Jinx sighed, her hands hovering over the keyboard. Her heart wasn't in it anymore; something else had captured her attention. In the background, the soft, rhythmic sounds of the city outside their penthouse apartment created a gentle lullaby. But the quiet was about to be shattered.

"I'm out," she finally said, her eyes darting to the figure lying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. "I think it's time for bed."

Vi shot her a suspicious look, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "You've got that look, Jinx. What's up?"

Jinx felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but she played it cool. "What look?" she replied, her voice a little too high.

Vi chuckled, not fooled for a second. "The look of someone with a dirty little secret." She turned off the game, the screen fading to black. "Alright, spill it. What's got you so...distracted?"

Jinx's gaze lingered on the sleeping figure. "It's nothing," she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. But the more she stared, the more her thoughts drifted. It was the quietude of the room, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way the moonlight kissed the curve of her cheek. It was torture, a sweet, sweet torment.

Her eyes traced the line of the blanket, dipping down to the swell of her hips. The fabric clung to her form in a way that made Jinx's imagination run wild. Her thoughts grew more vivid, more...intimate. She swallowed hard, trying to push them away, but the allure was too strong.

Vi's knowing smile grew wider. "I'm going to bed. But if you need anything..." she winked, leaving the room with a smug stride.

Alone now, Jinx's eyes remained fixed on the sleeping beauty. The OC lay there, blissfully unaware of the tumultuous thoughts racing through Jinx's mind. The room grew warmer, the silence more suffocating. Jinx's hand began to shake as she reached out and lightly traced the line of the blanket. Her fingertips grazed the fabric, sending a jolt through her body. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help it.

Her eyes darkened, and she bit her lip as she leaned closer. The smell of her shampoo filled the air, a sweet scent that was uniquely hers. Jinx's hand trembled with desire as she pulled the blanket back, revealing the curve of her waist, the dip of her navel. She felt a strange mix of guilt and exhilaration wash over her. This wasn't right, but it felt so good.

Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, echoing in her ears. She knew she was crossing a line, but she couldn't stop. She trailed her hand down the soft skin of the OC's stomach, her touch feather-light. The girl shifted in her sleep, a small sigh escaping her lips. Jinx froze, holding her breath, but she didn't wake.

With trembling fingers, Jinx undid the buttons of her own shirt, her eyes never leaving the sleeping form. The cool air kissed her bare skin as she slipped it off, her eyes dark with want. She moved closer, her breathing shallow and erratic. The OC's skin was warm, inviting. Jinx's hand hovered over her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from her body.

The mumbling grew louder, more insistent. The OC's hand reached out, fingers brushing against Jinx's arm. Jinx's eyes widened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she found her hand being drawn closer to the OC's chest, nestled between her breasts. A soft sigh escaped the girl's lips as she snuggled into the touch, hugging Jinx's hand closer.

Jinx felt her heart race even faster. She could feel the steady beat of the OC's heart beneath her palm, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body. The scent of her filled Jinx's nostrils, making her head swim. She had never felt so alive, so...aroused. Her mind screamed at her to stop, but her body had other ideas.

The sleeping girl shifted again, her hand tightening around Jinx's wrist, pulling it closer. It was as if she was begging for more, even in her slumber. Jinx's breath hitched in her throat as she gave in to the temptation. Her hand moved up, cupping the fullness of her breast. The girl murmured something unintelligible, her face contorting into a look of pleasure.

Jinx knew she should stop, that this was wrong on so many levels. But she couldn't. The need was too great. She had noticed how tired the OC had been lately, the dark circles under her eyes, the way she sighed deeply when she finally found the comfort of her bed. It was almost as if she were...searching for something. And tonight, it seemed that something was Jinx

.

Jinx studied the OC's peaceful expression, a pang of guilt stabbing at her chest. She knew her friend was really tired and hadn't been able to sleep well lately. The shadows beneath her eyes spoke volumes of the sleepless nights she'd been enduring, and the tightness in her shoulders even in rest suggested a burden that weighed her down. Despite her own raging desires, Jinx's heart ached for the girl's unspoken troubles.

Her thumb ghosted over the OC's collarbone, the smoothness of her skin a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in Jinx's mind. She knew that this moment was a stolen one, that she shouldn't take advantage of her friend's vulnerability. But the warmth, the closeness...it was intoxicating. The OC sighed, her body shifting slightly, and Jinx felt a jolt of excitement. Was it possible that she was dreaming of her? The thought sent a thrill down her spine.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, casting everything in a silver hue. The OC's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her breaths deep and even. Jinx felt a twinge of guilt for the thoughts she was having, for the desires she was acting upon, but it was drowned out by the pulsing need coursing through her. She knew her friend needed rest, had seen the weariness in her eyes each day. And yet, here she was, about to indulge in the very thing that could ruin their friendship.

A few days ago, they had stumbled upon a kink quiz online. It had been Vi's idea to do it together, a laugh, a way to pass the time. But when the OC's results had come back with "Somnophilia" as a top hit, Jinx had felt something shift within her. The idea of her friend, so innocently asleep, experiencing pleasure without even knowing it, had taken root in her mind and grew like a vine, wrapping itself around her thoughts, her dreams, her very soul.

And now, as she stood there, her hand cupping the OC's breast, she recalled the conversation with a new clarity. "I mean, if it's someone you really like, it's not so bad, right?" the OC had said with a yawn, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. Vi had snickered, but Jinx had felt something...different. The way the OC had glanced at her, the way she had blushed when she caught Jinx's gaze. It was as if she had been giving Jinx a secret message, a silent invitation.

But had she really meant it? Or was it just a joke, a casual remark born of the safety of their friendship? Jinx's heart thudded in her chest as she tried to rationalize her actions. Was this what the OC had wanted? Was she okay with this?

Before she could second-guess herself further, the OC's thigh shifted beneath her, pressing up against Jinx's core. The unexpected contact made her gasp, and she realized that she had been grinding against it without even realizing it. The friction was heavenly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. It was as if the universe itself was egging her on, whispering that it was okay, that this was what she needed, what they both needed.

Jinx's body took over, her hips moving almost of their own accord, rubbing against the firm, warm thigh. Her breath grew ragged, her eyes half-closed as she succumbed to the sensations. She felt a twinge of fear that she might wake her friend, but the OC remained blissfully asleep, lost in a world of dreams. It was as if she was in a trance, her body moving in a silent symphony of desire.

The sound of her movements grew louder in the quiet room, the slickness of her arousal creating a soft, rhythmic sound that seemed to fill the air. Jinx bit her lip to stifle a moan, her hand sliding down to find the heat between her legs. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and passion, each touch sending a bolt of pleasure through

her.

Suddenly, the OC's eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy with sleep. Jinx's heart skipped a beat, and she froze, her hand hovering over her own sex. The OC blinked a few times, her eyes focusing on Jinx's flushed face, and a slow smile spread across her lips. "Jinx?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

For a moment, Jinx was paralyzed with fear, but then she saw the understanding in the OC's eyes, the way they searched hers with a gentle curiosity. "It's okay," the OC whispered, her hand sliding over to cover Jinx's, pressing it down firmly against her mound. "It's just a dream, right?"

Jinx's mind raced, trying to find the right words to explain, but they lodged in her throat. She nodded instead, a silent lie that seemed to satisfy the sleepy girl. The OC's smile grew, and she closed her eyes again, her hand guiding Jinx's movements. It was as if she was dreaming this, too, and she didn't want to wake up.

Jinx's heart thudded painfully in her chest as she began to move her hand again, stroking the soft fabric of her underwear. The OC's breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling faster. Was she really okay with this? Was it just the haze of sleep talking, or had she known all along? The question swirled in Jinx's mind like a tornado, but the storm was quickly overshadowed by the building storm of pleasure.

The OC's hand tightened around hers, urging her to move faster. Jinx could feel the warmth of her skin, the rapid pulse of her heartbeat, and she knew she couldn't stop, not now. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, her body responding to the silent demands of her friend's touch. The fabric grew damp with her arousal, the heat building between her legs.

With a trembling hand, Jinx slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of the OC's panties, her fingertips brushing against the soft curls of her pubic hair. The OC's breath hitched, her body arching slightly. Jinx felt a rush of power, a heady mix of fear and desire that made her pulse race even faster.

As she began to explore the wet folds of her friend's sex, she noticed the OC's grip on her hand tighten, the sleepy smile on her face growing more intense. The OC's eyes remained closed, but her hips began to rock in time with Jinx's movements, urging her on. Jinx couldn't believe what was happening. Was this really just a dream? Or was there something deeper, something she had been too afraid to admit?

The OC's breath grew shallower, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Jinx's own arousal was reaching a crescendo, her own need demanding release. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the OC's face, the way her lips parted slightly, the way her cheeks flushed with each stroke. It was as if she was watching a live feed of her friend's most intimate thoughts, a silent confession of desires she had never dared speak aloud.

The OC's grip on Jinx's hand grew more urgent, her hips bucking against her touch. Jinx felt her own climax approaching, a tsunami of pleasure threatening to drown her. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up, but she didn't want to stop. The OC's breathing grew more ragged, and her whimpers grew louder, echoing in the quiet room.

Without warning, the OC's body tensed, her back arching off the couch. Her eyes shot open, staring directly into Jinx's, and for a brief moment, reality and fantasy collided. In that instant, Jinx knew that she wasn't asleep; she was fully aware. The OC's pupils dilated, and a look of pure ecstasy washed over her face. Then, with a final, guttural moan, she collapsed back onto the couch, her hand going limp in Jinx's grasp.

The room was silent except for the panting of their ragged breaths. Jinx felt like she was floating, her body a live wire of sensation. The guilt that had been gnawing at her vanished in the face of the OC's blissful expression. It was as if a weight had been lifted, a secret shared without a word spoken. She knew she had crossed a line, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

The OC's eyes remained closed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she descended from the peak of her climax. Jinx's hand was still trapped between her thighs, her own arousal pulsing through her. She didn't dare move, afraid that any sudden action would shatter the moment. But she couldn't ignore the need that still pounded through her, demanding release.

Her eyes flicked to the OC's face, watching for any sign of awakening. But the girl remained still, a peaceful smile playing on her lips. Jinx's hand began to move again, slower this time, savoring the feeling of her friend's slickness, the way her body responded to every touch. It was a heady power, a silent admission of want that had her blood singing.

The room was a cocoon of shadows and moonlight, the only sounds their mingled breaths and the soft whispers of fabric sliding against skin. Jinx felt like she was in a dream within a dream, her mind racing with thoughts of what might happen next. Would the OC wake up? Would she

be mad? Or would she...

But the OC didn't stir. Her chest rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away. Jinx felt a rush of relief mixed with a strange sense of elation. She had done it. She had given her friend the release she needed without her even knowing. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

Her hand remained between the OC's thighs, her fingers still coated in her essence. She couldn't help but marvel at the power she held in that moment, the ability to bring someone to such a peak of pleasure without them even being aware. But the thrill was short-lived. The weight of her own desires crashed down upon her, demanding their due.

Jinx's eyes fell to the OC's hand, which had slipped from hers, now resting on her bare skin. It was a silent invitation, a sign that she could take what she wanted. And so, she did. She slid her hand up the OC's body, feeling the goosebumps rise in the wake of her touch. The OC's breathing was still deep and even, but Jinx knew she was close to waking.

With trembling fingers, Jinx unbuttoned her own pants, her eyes never leaving the sleeping form before her. She pushed them down just enough to give herself the access she craved, the cool air sending a shiver down her spine. Her hand found its way back to her clit, the ache inside her growing more insistent with each stroke.

It was then that the OC jolted upright, a hand shooting out to grip Jinx's hair, her eyes wild with confusion. "What...what are you doing?" she gasped, her voice thick with sleep.

Jinx's heart skipped a beat, her eyes going wide with shock. "I..." she trailed off, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She had been caught in the act, her darkest desires laid bare in the moonlit room.

The OC's grip on her hair tightened, and she yanked Jinx's face closer to hers, their breath mingling. "What are you doing?" she repeated, the sleep in her voice replaced with a low, sultry tone that sent shivers down Jinx's spine.

Jinx's heart raced, her breath coming in short gasps as she searched the OC's eyes for any sign of anger or disgust. But instead, she found something else, something she hadn't expected. Desire. The OC's pupils were blown wide, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes dark with need. The hand that had been clutching at her hair began to stroke it gently, her thumb tracing the curve of Jinx's ear.

"You should have woken me up, Jinxie," the OC murmured, her voice husky with sleep. "I could have helped you with that."

Jinx's eyes widened, her heart racing as she stared into the OC's dark eyes. "But you were so tired," she protested weakly, her hand still frozen between her own thighs.

The OC's smile grew more knowing. "And you didn't want to bother me," she finished for her, her voice a low purr. "But you can't keep secrets from me, Jinx. Not like this."

Jinx's eyes searched her friend's, looking for any hint of anger or disgust. But all she saw was a reflection of her own want, the same need that had driven her to this moment. "I...I didn't mean to," she stammered, her voice a whisper. "I just...I couldn't help it."

The OC's grip on Jinx's hair softened, her thumb now tracing gentle circles on the shell of her ear. "It's okay," she murmured, her voice a soft caress in the quiet room. "I've had...thoughts, too."

Jinx felt the world spin around her. Was it possible? Had the OC felt the same way all this time? "But I was so nervous," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know if you'd...like it."

The OC's smile grew, a knowing look in her eyes. "Well, you know what they say," she began, her voice a seductive purr, "the only way to find out is to ask." Her hand slid down from Jinx's hair to gently cup her cheek. "Or, in this case, to just go for it."

Vi x oblivious reader

Her best friend, the reader, sat cross-legged on the floor, equally engrossed in the game but with a touch more casual finesse. They were a stark contrast to Vi's high-strung energy; their movements were smooth, almost serene, as they coordinated their attacks with silent precision. The reader's eyes flicked from the screen to Vi, noticing the way she leaned forward when she was excited, how her hair fell into her face and how she'd absently push it back with a grin. They were oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing within Vi's heart.

"Hey, you're really getting the hang of this," Vi exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. She paused the game, turning to face the reader, her eyes sparkling with a hint of something more than friendship. "Want to try a two-player mode?"

The reader looked up, meeting her gaze, and nodded. "Sure, why not?" They had no idea that this seemingly innocent invitation was, in fact, a ploy to bring them closer together. Vi's heart raced as she set up the game, her hands shaking slightly with anticipation. The moment the screen split and their characters appeared side by side, she couldn't help but let out a gleeful laugh. "Look at us, kicking butt together!"

Their teamwork in the game grew more synchronized with every passing level. Vi found herself leaning in closer, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. The heat from their bodies melded together, and Vi felt a tingle she hadn't experienced before. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, only to catch a whiff of the reader's scent—a blend of laundry detergent and something uniquely them. It was intoxicating, and she had to remind herself to stay focused on the game.

As the reader's gaze remained fixed on the screen, they couldn't help but steal glances at Vi's muscular arms, the way they flexed and moved with every button press. The wife beater tank top she wore was snug, showcasing the intricate tapestry of tattoos that wrapped around her biceps like a second skin. The reader appreciated the artistry but was blissfully unaware of the effect it had on Vi's crush. The room grew warmer, and Vi's cheeks flushed, not just from the excitement of the game but from the proximity of her friend, whose eyes remained unknowingly on her.

The game's intensity escalated, and the sound of explosions and power-ups filled the room. Vi's eyes darted to the reader, catching the admiration in their gaze, and she took it as an opportunity to playfully flex her arm. "See anything you like?" she teased, hoping it wouldn't be too obvious.

The reader, lost in the thrill of the game, blurted out, "Your aim's gotten better," without realizing the double meaning behind their words. Vi's heart skipped a beat, unsure if she should take it as a compliment or a sign that they were finally noticing her flirtations.

"Thanks," Vi replied, her voice a little shakier than she intended. She took a sip of her soda, the cold liquid doing little to quench the fire building inside her. "I've had a good coach." She gave the reader a knowing smile, her eyes never leaving their face, hoping they would catch the underlying message.

The reader looked up, a hint of confusion crossing their features. "What do you mean?" They took a moment to process Vi's words, their eyes scanning the room as if searching for someone else who might be responsible for her gaming improvements.

Vi's heart sank. Had she been too forward? She took a deep breath and tried to play it cool, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the armrest of the couch. "Oh, I just meant, you know, playing together and all. It's nice to see you getting into it." She took a sip of her soda, hoping to ease the dryness in her mouth. The room felt smaller all of a sudden, the air thick with unspoken words.

The reader, snapping out of their daze, gave Vi a puzzled smile. "Sorry, I guess I just zoned out for a bit." They returned their gaze to the screen, their thumbs resuming their dance over the controller. The game's soundtrack pulsed through the room, a silent metronome to Vi's racing thoughts. She felt the need to fill the space between them with words, to bridge the gap that seemed to have widened. "So, what's your favorite part about this game

?"

Vi's eyes followed the reader's every move, hoping that their earlier attempt at flirtation hadn't ruined the vibe. The reader, still blissfully unaware, took a moment to consider. "I like the strategy, I guess," they said thoughtfully. "Figuring out the best way to take down a tower without getting caught."

Vi's mind raced, trying to think of a way to get the reader's attention back to her. Then, she spotted it—a lock of hair that had strayed from the reader's ponytail. It was a new color, a vibrant blue that matched their team's emblem in the game. Without thinking, she reached out and gently tucked it behind their ear. "Your hair looks great, by the way," she said, her voice low and earnest.

The reader's eyes widened in surprise, their hand instinctively reaching up to feel the soft strands. "Oh, thanks," they murmured, a gentle blush coloring their cheeks. "I just dyed it yesterday."

Their fingertips grazed the vibrant blue, and Vi couldn't resist leaning into the touch. She felt the heat from the reader's hand, and her cheeks grew even redder. She took another sip of her soda, trying to regain her composure, but the moment was charged with an electricity that seemed to crackle in the air.

As the reader's gaze fell to her lips, Vi took it as an unspoken invitation. She leaned in, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The room around them grew hazy, and all she could focus on was the reader's mouth, so close to hers. Time seemed to slow down as she closed the distance, her eyes fluttering shut.

But in her nervous excitement, Vi misjudged the angle, and their noses bumped together with a gentle smack. The sound was like a pin dropping in a library, echoing through the room and shattering the tension. The reader jolted back, their eyes wide with shock, and Vi's cheeks grew hotter than the sun.

"Whoa, sorry," she mumbled, pulling away quickly and pretending to be engrossed in the game again. The reader's eyes searched hers, a mix of confusion and surprise. "Are you okay?" they asked, their voice laced with concern.

"Yeah," Vi said, a little too fast. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "Just clumsy, I guess."

The reader chuckled nervously, their hand still hovering near their face. "It's okay," they said, and there was something in their voice that made Vi's stomach do a little flip. They leaned in again, more tentatively this time, and gently brushed the hair out of Vi's eyes. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a sudden urge to close the distance again, but she held back, afraid of misreading the situation.

"Thanks," Vi mumbled, trying to play off the awkwardness. She took a deep breath and focused on the game, her heart hammering in her chest like a drum solo at a rock concert. They continued playing, the air thick with unspoken tension

.

A couple of hours later, the game's frenetic sounds had given way to the comforting silence of the night, broken only by the occasional slurp of noodles. They had moved from the couch to the kitchen table, their plates filled with steaming ramen, the aroma of the broth wafting through the room. The tension from earlier had dissipated, and they were back to their usual easy banter. Vi's heart had settled into a steady rhythm, but the memory of their almost-kiss lingered like the aftertaste of a spicy dish.

The reader looked up from their bowl, their eyes locking onto Vi's. "You know, I've been thinking," they began, setting their chopsticks down. "Maybe we should give that two-player mode another shot. I think we could do better."

Vi's heart skipped a beat. Was this an opening? Did they feel the same way she did? She swallowed hard, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. "Yeah, sure. I could go for some more action." She tried to keep her tone casual, but the hope in her eyes was unmistakable.

The reader's smile was genuine, their eyes lighting up with the challenge. "Great, let's go all out this time." They stood and grabbed their bowl, heading back to the couch. Vi followed, her legs feeling like jelly. They sat down, closer than before, the couch cushion sighing under their combined weight.

As they settled into their new position, the reader straddled Vi's lap without a second thought, the plush couch acting as a buffer between them. Vi felt a jolt of excitement and fear. She had hoped for something more, but she didn't expect it to happen like this. The reader's weight on her was surprisingly comforting, and she could feel the heat from their thighs against her hips. The TV flickered with the game's main menu, the only light in the room.

The reader noticed the nervous tic in Vi's jaw, the way she was gripping the controller so tightly it was a miracle it hadn't snapped in half. They reached up, their hand resting gently on the back of Vi's neck, and began to rub in slow circles. "You okay?" they asked, their voice a soothing balm to Vi's nerves.

Vi nodded, her eyes darting to the side. "Yeah," she mumbled, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just a little... tense, I guess."

The reader's hand paused, then moved to Vi's cheek, turning her face back to meet their gaze. "Just relax," they whispered, their voice a gentle command. "Let me take care of it."

Vi's eyes searched the reader's, looking for any sign of rejection, but all she found was kindness and understanding. She took a shaky breath and nodded, her grip on the controller loosening slightly. The reader leaned in, their eyes fluttering closed, and placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck. Vi's body responded with a delicious shiver, and she let out a tiny whine of pleasure, her head tilting to the side to give them better access.

The reader's kisses grew bolder, moving up to her jawline and then to her cheek. Vi's eyes remained open, watching the TV screen as if it could somehow provide guidance in this uncharted territory. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might burst from her chest, but she didn't dare move, afraid to break the spell.

As the reader's lips grazed her ear, Vi let out a soft whine that was equal parts pleasure and anticipation. The sound seemed to resonate through her entire body, and she felt a thrill of excitement as the reader's hand slid around to the nape of her neck, pulling her in closer. Vi's eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the kisses grew more intense, more intimate.

"Mm," Vi murmured, leaning into the warmth of the reader's touch. She could feel their breath on her neck, sending little shivers down her spine. The reader's hand began to trace patterns along her shoulder, their fingertips light and feather-soft. Vi's arms wrapped around their waist, pulling them closer, the game controller forgotten in her hand.

The reader's kisses grew more deliberate, moving from her neck to her collarbone, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. Vi's eyes fluttered closed, and she tipped her head back, offering more of herself to be explored. The sensation was overwhelming, but she didn't want it to stop. The whines grew louder, escaping her lips as the reader's mouth found hers in a soft, tender kiss.

Vi's arms tightened around the reader's waist, her hands sliding under their shirt to feel the warmth of their skin. She was lost in the moment, the game controller slipping from her grasp and landing with a soft thud on the floor. The reader didn't miss a beat, their hands now cradling her face as the kiss deepened. Their tongues danced together in a silent conversation filled with unspoken confessions and promises.

The whines grew more frequent, escaping Vi's lips like a sweet melody that only the reader could hear. They moved closer, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been separated for far too long. Vi felt her heart hammer against her ribcage, and she knew she was falling, falling hard for her best friend. The reader's touch was like a balm to her soul, soothing every ache she had ever felt.

The reader's mouth continued to explore Vi's neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sent waves of pleasure through her body. Vi's hands found their way to the reader's hair, gently tugging and holding them closer, as if afraid they would disappear if she let go. The sensation was intoxicating, and she felt her body melt into the couch beneath them.

The game on the TV screen was forgotten, the only sound in the room the soft moans and whines that escaped Vi's lips with every tender touch. The reader's kisses grew more insistent, and their hands began to trace the curves of Vi's body, exploring the planes of her muscles and the softness of her skin. Vi's breath hitched in her throat as the reader's hand slipped beneath her shirt, the warmth of their palm against her stomach sending a shiver up her spine.

Their kiss grew more urgent, their tongues dancing together in a silent symphony of passion. Vi could feel the reader's heart beating in sync with hers, a rhythm that grew faster with every touch. The room spun around them, a blur of colors and shadows as their bodies moved in unison. The couch cushions melded to their forms, holding them close as if afraid to let them go.

The reader's hand slid up to cradle Vi's cheek, their thumb tracing the line of her jaw as they broke the kiss. Their eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation, but all they found was the same fiery desire that burned in their own. "Vi," they whispered, their voice a hoarse confession. "I think... I think I might have feelings for you too

.