Work Text:
“Five beers and a round of the Moonshine Special, please.”
You looked up from the bottles you were storing under the counter and barely managed not to flinch at the sight of the man ordering the drinks. He was marked by Shimmer, dark red tumors ravaging half his face and swelling his right eye shut. His left fixed you as if daring you to make a comment.
“Coming right up.” You quickly pulled the beers into milky glasses and pushed them over the counter, then you dropped ice into aluminum cups and poured in two fingers of the thick luminescent liquid your colleague had invented. You’d never tried it since he wouldn’t give up the ingredients and you weren’t about to trust him blindly, but it had been one of the best-selling drinks for the last few weeks.
The disfigured man passed the drinks to a hooded figure behind him and banged a handful of dirty punched coins on the counter. You counted them in the blink of an eye, a skill acquired through years of working at the bar. Before the man could step away, you snapped his arm with a dishtowel. He whipped around, a furious glare in his healthy eye.
You put your hands on your hips and stared him down. “You’re three short.”
He pulled his lips between his teeth, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. The growth on his face darkened in color, almost reaching a deep purple now. His cloaked friend slid three more coins toward you and nodded, then he pulled the other man away.
Shaking your head, you put the coins into the till and continued unpacking this week’s liquor order until a familiar smell made you pause. The smoke of a particular brand of cigarillos, way too expensive for most residents of Zaun, surrounded you like a greeting hug. Instinctively, you drew a deep breath and smiled before turning to the newcomer at the bar.
There she was, wrapped in her dark red cloak that only let through a hint of the hard, dark leather vest you knew she wore at all times. It let on nothing about what she was really hiding underneath. You knew about her arm, knew that her old wooden prosthetic had long been replaced by something far more valuable and far more deadly.
“Sevika.” You slowly stepped closer, careful not to seem overeager. The favor of Silco’s right hand was something you had acquired over a long period of time and it still felt fragile, as if any misstep would put you right back into the dust under her combat boots.
The broad woman leaned her free arm on the counter. The almost unnoticeable twitch of her mouth was more of a smile than anyone else in this bar would get from her. The magical scars she had gotten during the great explosion years ago shimmered like turquoise crystal underneath the olive skin of her cheek. You longed to touch them, just once, to see what they felt like.
“Y/N. The usual.” She stubbed out her cigarillo in an ashtray on the counter. If she was anyone else, you’d have asked them for the magic word just out of principle. But Sevika didn’t ask for things. The word please was not something you’d ever heard her say.
You turned to pour her some of your expensive whiskey, taking one of the glasses you had polished earlier - just in case. When you faced her again, her eyes rested on your hips for a split second, then quickly darted back up to your face. For a moment, you stood frozen in place. Sevika struck a match with her thumbnail and lit another of those small cigars without releasing you from her piercing gaze. She sucked in a breath through her golden mouthpiece and exhaled two puffs of smoke through her nostrils, then she extended her hand toward you.
You lurched forward and realized just in time that she was asking for her drink. When you gave it to her, her fingers brushed yours. They were dry and calloused, leaving your skin tingling where she had touched it. Sevika nodded toward the two silver coins she had put on the counter. “One for the whiskey, second one’s for you.”
Before you could thank her she had turned and left for the back room, where she was awaited by at least three of Silco’s lower men. You sighed and threw one of the coins in your bag, entertaining the often recurring thought of just barging into their room with another bottle of whiskey later. But you knew you wouldn’t have the guts. The back was off-limits as soon as any of Silco’s confidantes were in there and you had only entered the room once. After a long night of celebrating her birthday, Sevika had ordered you to bring those who were not yet passed out on the floor a round of your best whiskey. It was then you had seen her arm for the first time, her cloak discarded on the back of the leather sofa.
You had yelped when her metal fingers had closed around your wrist on the way out and her men had laughed at you. Sevika had not. She had loosened her grip ever so slightly, her mechanical thumb brushing over the inside of your palm.
“Not a word to anyone. Don’t make me regret letting you in here.”
You had swallowed hard and nodded at her, trying to keep your composure. “I was never here.”
“Good girl.” The words had been too quiet, too low for anyone else to hear. You had ducked your head and left the room with shaking fingers and a racing heart.
Now more and more customers were pouring into the bar, making you wish for backup as orders were yelled at you from all sides. You hadn’t anticipated this much of a crowd today, so you hadn’t put anyone else on the schedule. Damn it. Working at your highest speed, leaving the beer tap running while you shoved glass after glass under it and whirled around to pour ice and moonshine in the few seconds in between, the next few hours flew by in a blur. One time, one of Sevika’s men came back with her glass and asked for another one. Slightly disappointed, you took the silver coin he gave you and poured him a generous amount.
The live music was booming, chairs were scraping over the concrete floor, and roaring laughter accompanied the whines of the electric guitar as the beat of the drums became one with the pulse in your ears. Your hands were working on their own while your head ran through all the orders and prices you needed to keep in order. Shimmer-face graced you with his presence again, his eyes glowing purple from a fresh hit. His hooded friend came for the next round and you got a look at the almost black veins on his arms, pulsating with the drug.
You had never tried it; too great was the risk, too horrible the faces you saw every day, too tragic the fate of those who succumbed to it. You knew that most of the bigger fish in Zaun relied on it for themselves, but they were smart and wealthy enough to work with precise dosages and the clean drug. On the streets, it was a different story. People were mixing Shimmer with other substances, stretching it with water or alcohol to make it last longer, or remaking horribly contaminated versions to sell it for profit. Those who bought it would wear the proof on their bodies soon after.
When you finally got a free minute between orders, you gulped down two glasses of water and wiped your face with a towel. The floor beneath your feet was wet and sticky with spilled drinks, the entire counter was swimming. The till was overflowing and completely disorganized. After stretching your back and cracking your neck, you began cleaning up. Slowly, the orders came less frequently and the first tables cleared. The band began a messy jam session in which the last remaining patrons were able to make suggestions for lyrics. Smiling to yourself, you placed dozens upon dozens of still wet glasses back on the shelves and then crouched down to begin sorting out today’s profits.
A knock on the bar made you get up, groaning as your knees protested any more movement. It was the Shimmer guy again, grinning gruesomely as only half of his face obeyed the movement. The other side just twitched and turned a deep red again when his eyes wandered down your body. “Why don’t you give me another round of moonshine, moonshine.” His laugh sounded like a saw cutting through metal.
“Why don’t you speak to me with some respect, Shimmer-face.” You glared at him and all laughter drained from his face. Nervously, he ran his tongue back and forth over his front teeth.
“Alright, lady. Three moonshine specials, please.”
You nodded. “See? That easy.”
He grunted but said nothing else as you poured him the drinks and exchanged them for more dirty coins. As soon as he had left for his table, you furiously scrubbed at your hands in the sink, feeling as if his eyes were still on you. Loud voices made you look up and you saw a few of Sevika’s men leave the private room, surrounded by a cloud of smoke that made it impossible to make out anything inside. The smell that wafted over to you was a small comfort.
Soon after, the band wrapped up for the night and the rest of the patrons left until only one table remained. Of course, it was Shimmer and two of his friends. You began wiping down the other tables and putting the chairs up for the night, hoping they would get the hint and drink up. They paid you no mind, however, and soon enough you arrived at your last table right next to them. Behind the door to the back room, it was strangely quiet. Maybe Sevika had decided to sleep on the sofa; it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Hey, moonshine, what’s the hurry?” Shimmer asked, tipping back his chair and balancing himself with a hand still holding on to the table. “Why don’t you have a drink with us?”
You were too tired for this. “We’ve been over this. Speak to me with some respect or shut the fuck up.”
All three men laughed, making ooooh sounds in mock intimidation. The cloaked man hit the tabletop with his flat hand and asked: “Or what? You’re gonna throw us out? Beat us up?” He leaned forward. “You’re all alone here. So I say you bring us a round and sit down with us, huh?”
“In your dreams, asshole.” You put up the last chair and made to walk past them back to the bar. “Bar’s closed, go home.”
Just as you had passed the table, a hand suddenly came down hard on your ass. You whipped around, pulling out a knife from your boot and snapping it open in one fluid motion. You pointed it at the three of them.
“Who the fuck was that?” Your voice was quiet now, but your heart was beating out of your chest. Shimmer didn’t look impressed. “Come on,” he drawled, crossing his hands behind his head and balancing on the back legs of his chair again. “We’ve been waiting all night for you. Don’t be stupid, now.” There was a slight edge to his voice. You tightened your grip around the wooden hilt of your knife.
“Out. Now. If you come in here again, you’ll lose the other side of your face, too.”
The hooded man snorted. Shimmer narrowed his eyes at you, slowly reaching into his pocket. You forced yourself to stay where you were. With a triumphant smile, he pulled out a small handgun.
“Sit down, moonshine.” He accentuated every syllable, gesturing with the gun. It rattled quietly. You held your breath and lowered the knife, then you slowly took a step forward. You weren't stupid enough to think you could fight your way out of this without getting hurt. Calm down, recover, make a new plan.
Suddenly there was movement. You hadn’t even noticed the back door opening, but somehow it must have because Shimmer crashed to the floor on his back and the gun went off just as Sevika smashed the faces of the two stunned men still sitting down right into the tabletop. Debris rained down on you from the ceiling where the bullet must have hit and you took a step back, dropping the knife and shielding your head with your forearms.
The hooded man was unconscious on the floor while the other tried to stand up. Blood was pouring from his nose and dripping onto the table. Sevika’s metal fist crashed into his jaw and he went out with a grunt. Then her boot connected with Shimmer’s hand and it made a terrible noise as the gun went flying and clattered to the ground on the other side of the room. He screamed in pain and tried to sit up, but she placed her foot on his throat and he began to choke, frantically grabbing at her leg with his uninjured hand. Finally, she looked over to you.
“Your choice.”
You needed a moment to grasp her meaning. By now, Shimmer’s face was turning a concerning shade of blue. Slowly, you walked closer. His eye bulged out as he stared at you, lips forming pleas for mercy as slowly fading gasps left his mouth. Then his head lolled to the side.
“Enough,” you said quietly. Sevika immediately took her boot off the man’s neck.
“You okay?” Her eyebrows were drawn together so close they almost touched, her mouth was a straight line. Her healthy arm jerked forward and she took your chin between thumb and digit, turning it left and right to check for damage. You couldn’t take your eyes off hers. They were steel grey, flashing sometimes blue, sometimes green in the dim light. They were beautiful. Sevika’s thumb brushed along your jaw and suddenly something changed in her expression. Her knitted eyebrows slowly returned to their normal place, her forehead smoothed out and your eyes flitted to her mouth when she ran her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip.
A cough from behind you made her spin around. The hooded man raised his hands above his head. His cheekbone was already swelling.
“I mean no trouble. Apologies. We didn’t know that this place… That she…”
“What?” Sevika’s voice was fire and ice at once. She towered over him. “Belongs to Silco? Everything does. Belongs to me? She always has.”
Your heart was in your throat. You tried to swallow it.
“Take your friends and get the fuck out of Zaun. If I ever see one of you again, I’ll skin you alive.” She spat on his chest. You watched, completely entranced, as it left a white stain on his black cloak for a moment, then absorbed into the fabric. Then the man picked himself off the floor and kicked his friend in the side, who woke with a groan.
“Let’s go. Help me with him.” They half crawled, half limped over to Shimmer and grabbed him by the arms, then they dragged him out of the bar. As the door closed, the bell rang one last time. The sound traveled eerily through the empty room. A movement in the corner of your eye made you turn.
Sevika stepped closer, holding out her hand again. You instinctively reached out and found that she was handing you your knife, snapped shut again.
“You dropped this.”
This time, your fingers brushed over her knuckles as you took the wooden hilt. Suddenly, Sevika’s metal hand closed over yours, holding it between both of hers, warm and cold, rough and smooth. Your breath caught in your throat as you admired the fine details, the tiny golden plates and wires, the wheels and ornaments that buzzed with low static.
“Thank you,” you whispered. Sevika dropped your hand and made for the bar.
“I want another drink.” You smiled at her back. Always so demanding. You were happy to oblige.
“I’ll have one, too,” you sighed as you took out the last polished tumblers and the bottle of golden liquor. “This one’s on the house.”
You clinked glasses and shared a look over the brims as you drank. You winced as the alcohol burned your throat and Sevika’s mouth twitched again. She was wearing her signature aubergine lipstick. Following a sudden bout of courage, you leaned forward onto the counter, putting your head in your hands. Sevika’s face was carved in stone, but her surprised exhale betrayed her, warm air brushing over your cheeks.
“I don’t know how that situation would have ended if you hadn’t jumped in.” You clicked your tongue and she narrowed her eyes at you as if she was trying to figure out the answer to something important. “I like to think I can take care of myself, and I probably would have left them pretty banged up, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have taken a few hits. Guess I need to start training again.”
She nodded ever so slightly. “I didn’t think you were helpless. But a gun’s a gun.”
You smiled ruefully. “And a knife’s just a knife. Thank you. I owe you one.”
She took another sip of whiskey, turning her face to the side to avoid hitting you with her glass. When she set it down, you could smell the liquor on her breath, accompanied by a hint of tobacco. As if she had read your thoughts, she dug a metal cigar case from her pocket and flicked it open with her prosthetic hand. Then she opened a tiny hatch in her forearm and produced the golden mouthpiece she used to smoke. You grinned at her and she just raised an eyebrow as if to say, i get it, okay? Before she could reach for her own, you had pulled out a pack of matches from the countertop and struck one.
She moved in closer and you watched as the tobacco began to smolder, crackling into the silence. When she inhaled, you could feel the heat of the burning end on your cheeks. Sevika’s healthy fingers closed around the cigarillo and she held it next to her shoulder before slowly blowing the smoke to the side, right past your face. You inhaled deeply. It smelled like reliability, like safety, like being certain that a certain person would be there almost every night protecting you from a distance, like a silent understanding for the other.
“You smoke?” Her voice was dark molasses.
“Not often.” Yours was only a whisper. Sevika took another drag through the golden mouthpiece and the sound of the burning tobacco tickled the back of your neck. You looked down at her fingers holding the cigarillo. “These smell like they taste amazing after a long day.”
“Hm.” She cocked her head to the side. “Wanna try?” Smoke escaped through her teeth when she spoke and you found yourself leaning even closer, as if pulled by an invisible thread. You opened your lips and exhaled shakily, knowing she would feel it.
Slowly, she bowed her head to meet yours until your foreheads almost touched. Looking down, she blew out the smoke in a steady stream and you sucked it into your mouth, letting the thick, wooden taste roll over your tongue until your lungs were filled and you felt lightheaded. You held your breath. Then those silver eyes met yours and you knew you were lost.
Without pulling away, Sevika carefully laid the cigarillo into the ashtray next to her, then she raised her hand and brushed her knuckles over your cheek before placing her palm on the back of your head and closing the distance between you.
Her lips were so much softer than you expected, pressing gently against yours as if waiting for something, for you. You sighed the last remnants of smoke into her mouth before her lips enveloped yours again, tasting of whisky and tobacco, of something dark and dangerous, but oh so tempting. You wanted more. Your hands went to the collar of her leather vest, pulling her - or yourself? - closer, crashing your mouth into hers and whimpering as she dragged her teeth over on your bottom lip.
You climbed onto the counter, Sevika’s arms pulling you up until you sat in front of her with your legs on either side of her chest. You bent down to her as she stood to meet you for another fierce kiss. Her mechanical arm was tight around your lower back while she held onto your jaw with her other hand. You parted your lips for her and her tongue pressed inside, fire and smoke and molten gold. A moan escaped you and you rolled your hips forward against her waist as hot flashes raced over your skin.
“Back room,” you mumbled against her lips, and she understood immediately. With one swift motion, she pulled you down from the counter and held you close with her prosthetic arm. It pressed hard into your spine, but you were too taken with need to care. While Sevika carried you over to the private room on steady legs, you crossed yours behind her back and lowered your head, tasting the skin beneath her jaw. It was hot and slightly salty, and her hair smelled of soap and ash. You thought you might lose your mind at her scent. You bit down hard on her neck and she hissed as you sucked on her skin, wanting to taste her, to be closer, to be inside her, to have her inside you, more, more, more.
She closed the door with a precise kick, then she sent the card table sliding against the wall with another, just missing the old jukebox that had been replaced by a bigger one in the main room, before turning and sitting down on the leather sofa. Catching your breath, you both took a moment to just look at each other. Sevika peered up at you under heavy dark lids. Her mouth hung open and the scars on her face shimmered as if magic was dancing right underneath her skin. You lifted a hand and, after giving her a second to stop you, ghosted your fingers over her cheek. The scars felt like satin beneath your fingertips, cool and smooth, slipping and shifting under your touch as if pushing forward and pulling back at the same time. Sevika’s breath came in short pants now. Her pupils were completely blown. You had never seen her so unraveled before, so completely off guard.
Slowly, you traced the line of her jaw, brushed your fingers over the scar on her bottom lip, down to the bruise you had left on the side of her neck, onto the leather brace that fastened her prosthetic to her shoulder.
“This okay?” you murmured, using your other hand to free her hair from the elastic band that held it back. It fell forward like black silk, shining in the low light. You ran your fingers over her scalp and she hummed, closing her eyes. “Go on.”
Turning to the prosthetic again, you touched the copper of her shoulder, feeling the low buzz underneath. The mechanism for the Shimmer vial was beautiful, glowing faintly through the small cracks between the metal pieces. Underneath the protective plate was a complicated clockwork of wheels and motors that you didn’t dare to touch. Further down came the smooth, hard gold of her upper arm, then the delicate mechanics of her elbow. In her forearm there was potential for power, you knew this was where she could generate extreme momentum into her punches. You thought you also saw a sharp blade hidden right in the middle of it. Finally, you took her hand between both of yours, turning it this way and that, and she indulged you by opening her fist and closing it a few times. You brushed a finger through her palm as she had done so long ago and she shivered. Your eyes snapped up to hers.
“Do you feel this?”
A longing, bittersweet expression flickered over her face before she nodded.
“But not the way you do.” She opened your palm and brushed her thumb through it. “It’s hard to explain. I need to feel in order to fight, but I don’t feel pain in it or the… nature of a touch. Just that something is there.”
“It’s beautiful.” You lifted her hand to your face and pressed a kiss to the smooth metal on the back of her hand. Both of you watched as the imprint of your lips faded slowly until there was only the polished golden surface again. “Who made it?”
“I did.”
“Oh?” You hadn’t expected that. There were a few gifted inventors in Zaun, people who made weapons for Silco and everyone else who could pay. “I didn’t know you were this gifted. I thought you just…”
“What? Beat up enforcers and play cards?” There was no offense in her voice. “I do what is expected of me. And this… I just do for myself. No use in telling everyone. And I don’t - Silco doesn’t want people to know about my arm. The best weapons are kept secret until the moment you really need them.”
“This is not just a weapon, though.” You let your hand wander up her arm again until it rested on her shoulder. “It’s a work of art.”
Sevika leaned back against the sofa, seemingly at a loss for words. Then the corners of her mouth lifted, hesitant and slow, but genuinely. You almost could not believe your eyes. Before her smile could fade, you lurched forward and captured it, committing the sight and the feeling of it to memory. Who knew if you would ever see it again. She hummed into the kiss and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer. You slowly rolled them forward against her and both of you exhaled in delight at the sensation. Then her tongue pushed into your mouth again, strong and demanding, and you buried your hands in her thick hair.
Her hands wandered under the hem of your shirt, warm fingers brushing over your stomach while cold ones fluttered over your lower back.
“Off,” Sevika rasped, her gaze fixed on your chest. You lifted your arms and she pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in your threadbare sports bra. Her metal hand continued stroking your back while her fingers caressed your shoulders, your collarbones, along the seam of the bra and down, making you gasp lightly when she brushed over your nipple. She continued her exploration, dragging her thumb down your stomach along the faint line of tiny hairs there.
Then she took your hand in hers and began kissing every fingertip, every knuckle, gently biting the inside of your palm before licking the inside of your wrist. You had never known the skin there to be so sensitive, but now the warm touch of her tongue shot daggers into your core, making your hips buck forward again.
Undisturbed by you practically melting in her hands, Sevika continued to press open-mouthed kisses to your forearm, the velvety skin in the crook of your elbow, your bicep. Your head fell back when she scraped her teeth over your shoulder before finally reaching your bared throat. You arched your back, only held up by the steady press of metal beneath your shoulder blades as her other hand massaged your thigh, thumb so dangerously close to where you longed for her touch, then moved further back and grabbed your ass hard. She began guiding your hips into a slow grind against her while her mouth moved feverishly hot on your throat, nibbling at your earlobe before licking a stripe along your jaw.
“Please,” you whispered, trying to catch her lips with yours, “please.” You grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. She moaned, jaw falling slack as she looked up at you from heavy-lidded eyes and dragged her sharp metal fingers down your back. You cried out and fell forward against her, crashing your teeth into hers and sucking her tongue into your mouth. Within seconds, she had pulled your bra straps down over your shoulders and began kneading your breast, swiping her thumb over your nipple again and again until you broke the kiss to gasp for air.
She immediately took the other nipple she had neglected in her mouth, sucking harshly and burying her teeth in the soft flesh around it. You whined and pulled her hair again. “Fuck, Sevika!” She growled and you clenched your thighs around her waist, trying to get closer, closer, closer.
Her hands worked on your jeans, opening the button and almost breaking the zipper in her impatience. You laughed breathlessly into the top of her head. Soap and burning wood and motor oil. It was intoxicating. She tapped your thigh. “Up.”
You managed to untangle yourself from her and stand between her legs, suddenly almost shy under her burning gaze. She opened her knees a little wider and leaned back, spreading her arms over the back of the couch. “Take them off. All of ‘em.”
Slowly, you hooked your thumbs into both jeans and underwear and began pushing them down your thighs. You blushed as the drenched fabric slowly peeled itself from your dripping core. Looking up, you saw that Sevika had noticed it, too. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her hand twitched on the backrest, but she didn't move. You bent down, brushing your temple against her knee, then you took off your heavy work boots and stepped out of the jeans, kicking them to the side. Next, you crossed your arms around your waist and slowly peeled the sports bra upward over your head. Sevika's eyes consumed you, devoured every inch of freed skin, caressed the places you had only shown to very few people before.
Following a whim, you turned and went over to the old jukebox in the corner. You could feel Sevika’s eyes boring into the backs of your thighs and you shivered despite the warm, stuffy air inside the room. This machine had songs you hadn’t heard in over a year. When the new jukebox had arrived, you had been delighted not to listen to the same twenty songs anymore, but now you felt a strange nostalgia as you touched the dusty buttons. Sometimes Silco’s men would play their own music in here, but the past few days the band had been too loud outside to allow for a private party. You found what you wanted, a song that you had used to listen to over and over when you swept the floors after a long night.
The Gaudy Side of Town. Was that Piltover with its flashy style and golden gates, you had often wondered, or was it Zaun, drenched in neon light, bustling and beating, never sleeping, eating itself in pursuit of a dream of something more? You pressed down the button and the first sounds, breathless clicks of the singer’s tongue and electric buzz, filled the room.
When you turned around to Sevika, she was watching you intently. She beckoned you over with a copper finger. Belongs to me? She always has. You didn’t feel shy anymore. The dusty concrete floor was cool beneath your bare soles as placed one foot in front of the other until you stood between Sevika‘s knees again. When she made no move toward you, you climbed into her lap, kneeling on either side of her hips.
You played with the top button of her leather vest. “May I?”
She nodded and you pushed the golden button through the worn leather. It was tight around Sevika’s ribs, probably made to protect her from knives and knuckles. The second button was even harder to open and your fingers strained against the pull of the unyielding material. You scooted closer, grinding down on the bunched up front of Sevika’s dark cargo pants. “Fuck,” you whispered, then you undid the last button and her chest was free. She wore nothing underneath. And suddenly you understood what else she was protecting.
A web of gleaming blue scars stretched from her shoulder down her ribs, wider and deeper than those on her face. You ran your hands over her shoulders, her chest, her stomach. Beneath her breast, there was an oval scar the size of your hand, the flesh torn and jagged at the edges. It looked like a pool of azure, glittering crystal light that danced under a smooth surface. When you placed your palm on it, Sevika sucked in a breath and her copper hand snapped to your wrist. You stilled but didn’t pull back.
“Does it still hurt?” you whispered.
“Sometimes. I…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I get phantom pains so bad I can’t speak. It's like being attacked by a great, vast nothing. But sometimes I wake up and forget that I lost the arm. That I’m like this now.” Her nose twitched, then she looked up at you. You could have sworn that you could see the faint glow of magic in her eyes. Slowly, you stroked her side, feeling the different textures of skin and scars under your palm.
“How does this feel?”
Instead of a reply, Sevika leaned forward, kissing you gently. The kiss didn’t stay sweet for long; soon her hands were everywhere as she devoured you, swallowed your moans, and barely gave you time to breathe. You rocked into her, growing so desperate you thought you would lose your mind if she didn’t touch you soon. Your fingers grabbed the front of her pants, but she caught your hands and shook her head, mumbling “No, love. This is about you.”
“Okay. Okay. Sevika…” you whispered, “I need you. I need you.” You bit into her bottom lip and pulled. She made a warning sound and you released her again. “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”
Her warm hand moved down your back and squeezed your ass before dipping lower. You whined into her ear, drinking in her smell, pressing your open mouth to her neck. “Please, Sevika, please…”
You were so wet that when her finger gently entered you, you almost didn’t feel it at first. Then she curled it inside you and you went limp.
“There’s a good girl,” she mumbled, velvet and smoke. “So wet for me.” She slid in a second finger and sank deeper, still excruciatingly slow. You were distantly aware of your spit running down her collarbone, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
Copper fingers grabbed your jaw and pulled your face up to hers, forcing your mouth open. Sevika began thrusting into you harder, faster, her tongue fucking your mouth as she held you up with strong arms. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm and your legs began to shake as you lifted yourself from her lap to allow her to go deeper. You felt it all at once, the hot skin beneath your hands, her magic tingling against your stomach, a third finger entering you, your own moans competing with the singer’s voice, the fire inside, Sevika’s mouth sucking bruise after bruise into your neck, your sternum, your breasts.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” Her fingers left you and you cried out in frustration, falling back down onto her lap and grinding forward furiously to chase the high you’d lost. She stilled your hips with a cold, hard grasp that was sure to leave marks. You watched, hypnotized, as she held up her fingers to her face, still slick from your juices.
“Your scent…” she rasped, “it’s better than everything I’ve ever known. I sometimes think I’ll lose my mind when I’m too close to you.” She dragged the tip of her tongue along the back of her digit and hummed in satisfaction. “I always feared that if I tasted you once, I’d never be able to stop.”
You took her wrist and lifted her glistening fingers to your face, spreading the wetness over your own lips before sucking two of her digits into your mouth. The music stopped. Her eyes widened and metal fingers dug deeper into your hip. You swirled your tongue around her fingertips, cleaning them thoroughly and tasting yourself, salty and slightly tangy. You felt almost feral with want.
Letting her fingers go with a small pop, you pressed your forehead to hers, knowing she would smell you on your lips. “So don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
Before you could understand what was happening, Sevika had flipped you on your back on the sofa, her hips pressing between your legs as she put her full weight on you, ravaging you with her mouth. You felt wonderfully crushed beneath her, only breathing in small gasps, safe and warm and oh. Her hips thrust into yours, strong and heavy. It was pure bliss.
Far too soon, she pushed herself up on her hands and knees, leaving you caged in and writhing beneath her. You threaded your fingers into her hair. “Sevika, please…” She crawled backward, sitting back on her heels and finally throwing her vest to the side before letting her hands roam your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You yelped as she pushed your knees up to your chest and left you completely exposed to her. You promised yourself never to forget the expression on her face as she looked down at you, running her tongue over her swollen lips, lipstick smeared and hair wild.
Then she dove down and took you into her mouth. Her tongue lapped at you as if you were a mountain stream, then danced over your clit like the flutter of wings. You arched your back off the sofa and bit your hand to keep yourself from screaming. Sevika’s steel eyes met yours and her metal hand snatched your wrist, pulling it down between your knees. You thrashed and moaned, but she kept your knees and arm pinned, leaving no room for you to release any tension, and soon you were at the brink of orgasm again.
“Oh god, please, Sevina, I’m close-” She pulled back and bit the inside of your thigh instead. You wriggled beneath her steel grasp even though you knew it was futile. “Please, Sir, I need it so bad,” you whined and she groaned into your thigh. Encouraged, you dragged the fingernails of your free hand over her scalp and purred: “I’m begging you.”
“And what do you need, love?” Her voice came out choked. She rested her forehead on the damp curls between your legs and inhaled deeply.
“Your fingers, please. ” You took a shaky breath as she finally released your knees and dragged two fingers through your folds before sinking them into you, just to the first knuckle. “More, please,” you murmured. “I want you to fuck me.”
“What was that?” Sevika’s thumb gently circled your clit. “I didn’t hear you.” Her eyes were hard, but her mouth curled into a devilish smile.
“Fuck me.” Your voice was louder now, growing into a desperate cry. She just lifted an eyebrow. “Fuck me, Sir. Please, please, make me cum.”
That seemed to be enough for her. You watched the muscles in her back dance as she buried her fingers inside you and pressed her tongue to your core again. “God, yes, ” you cried out, faintly noticing a tear roll down your temple, “yes! ”
Sevika fucked into you at a relentless pace, drawing obscene sounds from both your mouth and your throbbing cunt. Your vision went white when her metal hand reached up and closed around your throat, not squeezing but holding you in a firm grasp. “So close,” you panted, “please, Sir, please!”
This time, she didn’t deny you. Instead, she curled her fingers upward and kept shallowly thrusting into you. Her tongue pressed down roughly, sucking your clit into her mouth and you couldn’t stop your thighs from clamping down around her head like a vice. “Yes, Sevika, oh god, I’m coming, I -” A scream left you as heat exploded between your hips, leaving your entire body convulsing and shaking as if you had been shocked.
You weren’t granted a single moment to gather your bearings. Sevika never stopped her fingers even when you tightened impossibly around them, never stopped swallowing you down even when you begged her to give you a break, just one second, wait, wait, she was unwavering. The only response you got was a third finger stretching you open and an encouraging grunt from the woman between your legs. When you stopped struggling, she slowed down and her movements became more gentle. You rested your thighs on her shoulders and buried your fingers in her hair again.
“See? That’s not so bad,” she said, resting her cheek in the crook of your hip. You felt the hum of magic on your skin.
“You’re undoing me,” you whispered into the heavy silence. “I’m coming apart.”
Another tear rolled down your temple. Sevika pressed soft kisses to your stomach, up your chest, your neck, before gently kissing the corner of your eye. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she mumbled, “so good for me.” Her thumb found your clit again and warmth began slowly pooling in your stomach. She didn’t stop plastering your face with kisses, soft like butterfly wings on your skin. You smelled yourself on her chin, sticky and sweet.
“Closer,” you whimpered, pressing your hips upward to meet hers. Her chest was warm and sweat-slick against yours. “I need to be closer.”
You wrapped your arms around her back and felt her hard muscles flex under your palms as she slowly lowered her body onto yours, trapping her good arm between you and never relinquishing the steady pace of her fingers. In the places where her scars were pressed to your bare skin, it felt like you were becoming one with her.
She kissed you lazily, dipping her tongue inside your mouth and enveloping you completely. You felt like you were swimming in an endless well of magic, of Sevika’s musk, of hot skin, of pleasure. Gently, gently, she brought you close to the edge again.
“Come for me,” she breathed against your lips, “please.”
You did. This time, it didn’t feel like an explosion, but a wave rolling freely onto your shore, swallowing you up and birthing you anew. You whispered her name over and over, a confession, a plea, a secret, a promise. She eagerly accepted every single one.
Afterward, you lay entangled together, your torso pinned down under Sevika's until the sweat on your skin made goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. Her head rested next to yours, her nose digging into your cheek. “Sevika?” She sighed but didn’t move a muscle. “I’m a bit cold.”
Immediately, she sat up and pulled you to her chest, rubbing your back with her warm hand. “Do you have blankets here? Or…” She regarded you for a moment, then a hesitant smile appeared on her lips. “Do you want to come home with me? My bed is far more comfortable than this old couch.”
You cradled her face in your hands. “I’d love nothing more.”
After getting up first and dressing quickly, you went out into the bar to clear the last table. Had that really happened tonight? Just hours ago? It felt surreal. You put the chairs up and collected your bag and jacket from behind the bar. On the counter, Sevika’s cigar lay forgotten still. You placed the mouthpiece between your lips, feeling as if you were doing something forbidden, and struck a match.
The door to the back room opened and Sevika emerged, looking much more put together than minutes before. She had wrapped herself in her cloak again, hiding all her magic from view. Her face immediately softened when she saw you taking a drag from the cigarillo. In a few strides, she had crossed the room and pinned you against the bar. She smelled of sex. It was glorious.
You lifted your chin and she got the hint, leaning down to capture your lips. You blew the smoke into her mouth and she inhaled deeply before grabbing your waist and kissing you longingly.
“Wanna get out of here?” You jingled your keys and offered her the cigarillo. She took it and stuck it into the corner of her mouth, grabbing your hand instead.
“Let’s go.”