#and then she looked at my nose and was like
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kashverse · 1 day ago
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How does Sukuna react when babykuna gets her first “boyfriend” ? 🫢
middle school. a battlefield.
gone were the days of erasable mistakes and carefree recesses—no more doodling on homework with pencil, no more "do-over" passes when things went south. this was real life now. friendships weren’t just about who shared their snacks anymore; they were about who had the best gossip, who could do the cleanest cartwheel, and who had the best stationery. and worst of all, romance was no longer just something that happened to adults in movies.
naturally, babykuna was in high demand. many a snot-nosed, grass-stained boy had approached her at recess, fumbling over their words, hope shining in their little prepubescent eyes—only to be met with a resounding, utterly devastating “EWWWWWWWWWW!”
and just like that, another tiny heart shattered into pieces. truly, the school had never seen such a high population of grief-stricken, heartbroken little boys, sobbing into their sleeves, vowing never to love again. 
and then came the fastest runner in class.
this kid had guts. confidence. swagger. he marched right up to babykuna, chest puffed out, chin high, and said, with all the bravado of a kid who could run a 4-minute mile in crocs—
"wanna be my grill-fren?"
and for reasons beyond mortal comprehension, babykuna…said yes. and who were the first beings in the house to know of this life-altering development?
not you. not sukuna. not her parents, no. absolutely not.
it was baby the orange tabby, who sat on her lap, idly flicking his tail, completely indifferent to this monumental moment.
and it was mr pickles, the ancient maine coon, who upon hearing the news, let out the deepest, most exhausted grunt known to catkind—his way of saying, “i have lived too long to deal with this bullshit.”
meanwhile, outside babykuna’s room, you and sukuna were both having heart palpitations. you leaned against the wall, gripping your chest. “did she just say ‘yes’?” sukuna, usually the picture of confidence, looked like he had just been stabbed. “she said yes.”
“to a relationship?”
“to a boy.”
your hand flew to your chest. “oh my god.” sukuna paced, running a hand through his hair. “this is not happening. this is a dream.”
“no, this is a nightmare.”
he suddenly gripped your shoulders. “what if—what if she holds hands?” 
your soul left your body. “what if she lets him carry her backpack?”
sukuna reeled back like he’d been shot. “no daughter of mine is letting a little shit carry her backpack.”
you clutched your chest. “we’ve failed her.”
“we’ve failed ourselves.”
inside the room, babykuna, blissfully unaware of the absolute crisis happening outside, scratched behind baby’s ears. “mama and papa are acting real weird today.”
mr pickles, in all his aged wisdom, let out a long, suffering sigh.
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trashytracktales · 1 day ago
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okay I know how everything is always about reader but I need you to write something about giving lando the pleasure he deserves.. like a nasty bj. I’ve seen so many edits of him with the song “dangerous woman” and it screeeeaaams smut. hope you’re seeing this vision and I love your work, i’d be so happy if you could bring it to life bc you’re my fav blog on here <3
Wanna bet? | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── A bit shorter than usual, but I haven’t posted anything in almost 2 weeks, and this request was the perfect excuse. Thank you so much for your support!! Hope you like it 🤍🎀
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✧₊⁺ summary ──── After a particular tiring day at work, Lando comes back home to his girlfriend, happy to fall asleep next to her. Unfortunately, he has a habit of not thinking before he speaks so, next thing she knows, she’s determined to prove him wrong. As many times as possible.
✧₊⁺ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
✧₊⁺ rating ──── explicit
✧₊⁺ category ──── F/M
✧₊⁺ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, oral sex ─ (m)receiving, somnophilia (consensual, implied), teasing and a bit of edging, swearing, mild dominance.
✧₊⁺ word count ──── 2.9k
✧₊⁺ date ──── Feb. 10, 2025
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THEY DIDN’T TEXT much throughout the day, because she knows how busy he’s been at work lately. Instead, she follows the same routine she recently fell into: she wakes up next to him, they have a quick breakfast together, then watches the door Lando rushes out every morning for a good half hour, contemplating. After that, she occupies the rest of the day with her own work, or curled up with a book on the couch, waiting for the same damn door to open.
The moment she hears the familiar jingle of keys, she looks up with the same excitement as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before…
Lando steps inside, looking exhausted. His curls are a mess from the cap he’s been wearing all day, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and there are faint shadows beneath his eyes, evidence of a long day at the MTC.
He barely manages a tired smile when he sees her, “Hey, pretty,” says Lando, dropping his bag by the door before trudging towards her.
She gets up, arms already outstretched in anticipation. He’s almost melting into her embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her scent in. For some reason, his deep sigh gives away more than words ever could, and she catches it instantly.
“Rough day?” the girl asks, rubbing soothing circles into his back. His muscles are tensed, yet soft under her palm.
Lando groans in response, tightening his hold on her. “You have no idea,” he exhales, relieved that he’s finally home.
“Oh, baby. I think I do,” she teases, pulling back to look at him, “You smell like grease and exhaustion.”
He chuckles, eyes twinkling despite his fatigue. “That bad?”
She scrunches her nose dramatically, “Mhm. Go shower, stinky. I’ll wait for you in bed.”
Lando doesn’t argue. He presses a quick kiss to her temple before shuffling toward the bathroom, stripping his hoodie off along the way. She watches him disappear behind the door, then heads to the bedroom, where she starts fluffing his pillows and making sure his side of the bed is just the way he likes it: neat sheets, a warm blanket, and her, not-so-patiently waiting for him on her side.
By the time Lando steps out of the shower, towel slung low around his hips, he looks slightly more alive. His damp curls cling to his forehead, and he’s rubbing a hand through them as he walks toward the bed.
“You’re an angel, you know that?” he asks with a wide smile on his face, noticing her efforts to make his night a bit easier.
Lando grabs the towel from around his waist, using it to dry his curls, completely unbothered by his own nakedness. She follows his big frame as he crosses the room, mesmerized, while the muscles in his back shift with each movement; in moments like this, she percieves Lando as a man that’s so effortlessly graceful. There’s something almost god-like about him, she thinks, like a sculpture carved by the hands of an artist obsessed with perfection: the sharp lines of his shoulders, the defined curve of his spine and, most distracting of all, the firm shape of his ass.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as he reaches for a fresh pair of boxers, blissfully unaware of the effect he has on her, pulling them up over his hips in one smooth motion.
Then, he simply slips beneath the blanket with a sigh. “Got the weekend for ourselves, but at what cost?” he chuckles, “I’m so tired, I swear I could sleep through an earthquake,” Lando yawns, stretching out before shooting her a lazy grin. “You could even blow me in the morning, I won’t be moved, baby! Dead asleep for the next couple of days.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes.
Wanna bet?
“Oh, nice,” she ends up saying, trying her best not to sound offended.
“Just saying,” he smiles mischievously, already halfway to dreamland.
The girl shakes her head, humming at his words, but doesn’t contradict him. Instead, she shifts closer once he flips on his stomach, and starts running her nails lightly up and down his back, the way she knows he loves. At that, Lando’s body relaxes almost immediately, a soft sigh of contentment slipping past his lips.
Patiently, she starts drawing lazy patterns over his skin, listening intently as his breathing slows. And suddenly, seeing him falling asleep while she gently scratches his back, she realizes that all the waiting during the day is worth it, as long as Lando will always return to their bed at the end of it.
With a small smile on her face, she watches as his long fingers loosen their grip around the pillow, and the crease between his eyebrows fades.
And, despite his earlier comment, she makes a tiny mental note to prove him wrong in the morning.
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THE FIRST THING she notices when she wakes up is how hot she is.
Lando’s entire weight presses against her body, his arm draped over her waist, and his face buried in the crook of her neck. He always sleeps like this, clinging to her even in unconsciousness, as if he can’t stand the thought of being deprived of her touch for one second. His breath is steady against the skin of her neck, while his curls are tickling her shoulder.
She sighs softly, shifting just enough to glance at the clock on the nightstand — it’s almost noon, and as much as she wants to stay like this and let Lando sleep in, cocooned in his arms, her bladder has other plans. So, carefully, she attempts to get out of his embrace, prying his arm from around her waist inch by inch.
Lando grumbles in protest, fingers flexing against her hip, but he doesn’t wake up that easily.
When she finally manages to slip out of bed, she tiptoes toward the bathroom, casting one last glance at him over her shoulder: still dead asleep, sprawled out now, his curls a mess against the pillow. That’s when she remembers his words from the night before, and her lips curl into a knowing smirk.
After she returns, she finds Lando on his back, the sheets tangled between his legs, one arm resting above his head to block the only ray of light that, ironically, landed on his face. She crosses the bedroom to pull the curtains all the way, and the room immediately floods in a semi-dark filter.
Then silently, she slides back into bed, her hands ghosting over his skin as she untangles the sheets. He looks painfully beautiful in the morning, the warmth radiating from his body seeping into her fingertips. She takes her time, letting her touch linger as she traces absentminded patterns over his stomach.
Lando shifts slightly, but his breathing remains even, somehow encouraging her hand to move lower.
The fabric of his boxers is soft beneath her fingers, but what catches her attention is the heat beneath it, and the hardening shape of his cock as she palms him gently. At that, a slow exhale leaves Lando’s lips, his hips tilting just slightly, but he gets sucked back into his sleep like it never happened.
She continues her cautious movements, fingertips pressing more firmly, drawing lazy strokes through the fabric. His body is responding instinctively, his cock hardening beneath her touch with each passing second. The faintest hitch in his breath makes something curl low in her stomach, and her pulse quickens as she slips her hand beneath the waistband, feeling the smooth, hot skin against her palm.
Lando stirs, a muted noise escaping through his lips, but his body is still heavy next to her.
She bites her lip to stop a whimper coming out, watching him closely as she runs her thumb along the tip, feeling the slick warmth there. A shiver rolls through him, Lando’s hips shifting again, just a little bit, as if seeking more of her touch.
Without even realizing, her mouth goes dry, her own breath unsteady now. Her cheeks burn as she looks at him, laid out beneath her. He’s thick and heavy in her hand, the heat of him searing against her palm. She strokes him slowly, teasingly, scanning the way his body reacts even without full consciousness.
The memory of his taste lingers on her tongue before she’s even taken him in — warm, heady, Lando. The anticipation is making her head spin as she pumps him once, twice, three times, feeling the way he throbs while wrapped around her hand.
With one goal in mind, she leans in, letting her lips brush against his hip, just barely, teasing herself as much as him. And then, with intent, she replaces her hand with her mouth — inviting and wet and ready to take him in without hesitation. Her lips are parting around his length, and the first thing that strikes her is the way he pulses against her tongue, the skin velvet-smooth over the rigid firmness beneath. The faint taste of salt lingers, a mix of him and the remnants of her teasing, making her stomach tighten with want.
She moves meticulously at first, savoring the weight of him, and the stretch of her lips as she takes him deeper. Then, without meaning to, a soft moan escapes her, vibrating around him; the sound surprises her, but not as much as the way Lando reacts at the sensation, a deep, unconscious whine slipping from his parted lips. It makes her smirk against his skin, but she doesn’t rush the process. This is about proving a point, about making him regret the words he so carelessly tossed at her the night before.
Her tongue moves with purpose now, swirling over the sensitive skin as she works him up with rhythmic strokes of her hand. She can’t take him all the way in her mouth, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try to ruin him in every other way.
When he throbs against her tongue again, that’s her sign to start sucking, her lips sealing around his cock as her tongue swirls over the sensitive ridge beneath his tip. The slick sounds that follow, a mix of her spit and his pre-cum, are animated by her breath that’s both shallow and eager.
She pulls him out with a wet pop, licking around the head, teasing the slit before dragging her tongue from base to tip, savoring every inch of him. Then she takes him in again, deeper this time, her pace steady, determined to draw out every last reaction from him.
And luckily, a soft sound escapes Lando’s lips — a barely-there whimper, the kind that makes her thighs press together instinctively. He stirs, his hand moving as if to find her, but when his fingers meet the empty pillow on her side instead of her warm body, he shifts, confused. His lashes flutter, brows furrowing just as he blinks himself into consciousness.
Then it hits him.
The wet heat of her mouth.
The torturous rhythm of her tongue.
The way her fingers work in tandem, stroking him with just enough pressure to have his breath catching in his throat.
She should stop now that she managed to wake him up. Nothing would be more satisfying then hearing him begging for release, first thing in the morning. But then, Lando inhales sharply, and exhales deeply with a throaty sound, as his head falls back against his pillow. Seeing what she does to him is better then hear him beg at the moment, so she continues with her movements, as dedicated as ever.
“Fuck,” Lando’s voice is hoarse, sleep-rough and so wrecked already.
She peeks up at him, making sure he’s watching when she takes him deeper, then she makes sure to keep eye contact as she presses her tongue insistently against the sensitive slit at his tip.
Lando’s reaction is instant: a sharp moan, hips twitching involuntarily while his hand finds her hair. His fingers tighten, not pushing, just holding, desperately needing to anchor himself to reality since she’s pulling him under so effortlessly.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes, eyes dark and hooded as he looks down at her.
She smirks with his cock in her mouth, the curve of her lips sinful as she bats her lashes, feigning innocence. Lando lets out a strangled laugh, but it quickly dissolves into another moan when she presses her tongue more firmly against his swollen tip, sucking just a little harder.
He is panting now, his grip in her hair tightening just as his hips lift slightly, torn between wanting to let her have her way and the desperate urge to fuck her mouth.
“You’re—fuck, you’re divine,” he praises, “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
She hums as his thighs twitch beneath her, his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths. She can feel how close he is, his muscles tensing, his grip on her hair turning almost desperate. But just when he’s teetering on the edge, she pulls away with yet another obscene little pop.
Lando whines, his head snapping to glare at her, but she only grins, sliding up to lie beside him. Her hand never stops, though, her fingers still wrapped around his cock, stroking at an infuriatingly agonizing pace.
“Still think you’d sleep through it?” she teases, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Lando groans, hips shifting restlessly beneath her touch. “You’re evil.”
She chuckles, pressing a kiss to his jaw as her hand picks up speed. “And?”
“I love it.”
A couple more strokes, a slight twist of her wrist, and Lando comes with a shuddering moan, his release spilling hot all over his lower stomach. His entire body tenses beneath her before melting back into the mattress, so sweetly spent. He’s beautiful like this — flushed and panting, his curls falling against his forehead.
Lando lets out another shaky breath, chest still heaving, before cracking an exhausted, blissed-out smile. “I never questioned your ability to blow me, you know. I talk trash when I’m tied, but this is the first time I’m glad I did.”
She smiles, leaning in to kiss him, the gesture so natural. By the time she pulls away, he looks utterly wrecked.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says against his lips, smug and entirely pleased with herself.
Lando huffs out a breathless laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She tries to move, but before she can so much as shift, Lando’s arms tighten around her. With effortless strength, he pulls her back into his embrace, rolling her until she’s straddling his waist.
“Not so fast,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep, lips brushing against her jaw.
The sudden change in positions makes her gasp, her thighs pressing instinctively around him. His hands settle at her waist, warm and firm, holding her like she belongs nowhere else but on top of him. She can feel him beneath her, so warm and solid, the remnants of his pleasure sticky against the soft fabric of her panties.
The realization makes heat raising up her neck and cheeks.
Lando notices, and his half-lidded gaze flickers up to meet hers, dark amusement glinting in his tired yet satisfied eyes. “Yeah?” he hums, tilting his head back against the pillow. He guides her hips just slightly, his grip lazy but intentional, watching the way she shivers at the sensation. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer, but the way she bites her lower lip gives it away.
One of his hands slides beneath her shirt, fingers tracing the soft skin of her thigh before hooking around the edge of her panties. He tugs them aside so easily, and the moment the cool air meets her sensitive skin, she lets out a sharp breath.
“Well,” Lando’s voice is barely louder than a sleepy mumble now, raspy and dripping with satisfaction. “Let’s see what can I do for you, baby.”
His fingers tease over her clit, featherlight at first, enough to make her body jolt at the sensitivity. Then, with slow precision, he brings his hand to his stomach and gathers the remnants of his release on his fingertips, using it to spread it over her as he traces slow, torturous circles against her entrance. The sensation makes her body melt, a soft whimper slipping past her lips as her hips rock instinctively into his touch.
Lando groans at the reaction, his own breath stuttering slightly. “So eager, aren’t you?” he asks, letting his fingers slip further, dipping between her folds, feeling just how ready she already is to take whatever he has to offer.
The girl gasps, nails digging into his shoulders as her body clenches around nothing when he pulls his finger out, craving much more. Lando grins lazily beneath her, rubbing agonizing circles over her most sensitive spot before pressing two fingers inside this time, the stretch both delicious and teasing.
She shudders, her thighs twitching as she tries to close them, but he doesn’t let her. Lando’s free hand grips her hip, keeping her open just enough for him to keep teasing.
“Bet I can make you come just from this, hm? What do you say?”
He’s not even trying, and she knows he can do it. He’s done it before, and they both remember exactly how wrecked she was when he did. So, she doesn’t hate the thought and, as she tilts her head slightly, her lips are curling into a smug little smirk.
“Bet?” she asks, knowing she’ll win, no matter the outcome.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2025
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jiminomenon · 3 days ago
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model! karina goes live and gets annoyed with fans asking for assistant! reader
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pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader
word count: 924
summary: jimin never planned her lives, but somehow, y/n always managed to steal the spotlight anyway. what was supposed to be a casual night of answering questions turned into absolute chaos the moment y/n—half-asleep and completely unaware of the camera—wandered into view, asking about their kitten in a raspy morning voice.
from my series: the devil wears prada
jimin never really planned her lives.
unlike other models and influencers who curated their every move, making sure every frame was aesthetic and every moment seemed effortlessly cool, jimin simply did whatever she felt like. she didn’t care for perfect lighting or camera angles. if she was bored and in the mood to be entertained, she’d go live, let her fans flock to her like moths to a flame, and see where the conversation took her.
tonight was one of those nights.
draped across her couch in her penthouse, jimin sipped a glass of wine, one leg lazily draped over the armrest while the other was tucked beneath her. her hair was still damp from her shower, an oversized designer hoodie swallowing her frame, barely covering the tiny shorts she had on underneath. she had propped her phone against a pillow, letting the stream run while she scrolled through comments, half-interested.
unnie, did you eat?
jimin rolled her eyes, swirling her wine before taking another sip. “obviously.”
what’s your skincare routine?
“expensive.”
drop the brand of your hoodie pls!!!
“prada.”
effortless. easy. fans loved how blunt she was, and she loved how they hung onto her every word. attention was something jimin never had to ask for—it came naturally, as it should.
but then—
where’s y/n?
unnie, we saw y/n in your last story, is she there?
y/n unnie when? 👀
show us y/n pls.
does y/n sleep there???
jimin’s lips pressed into a thin line. her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her wine glass.
here we go again.
“she’s not here,” she said smoothly, not even bothering to look over at the hallway where she knew y/n was napping.
but of course, her chat wasn’t buying it.
you’re lying.
she’s literally always with you.
blink twice if she’s in your penthouse rn.
does she have her own room there at this point? lmao
jimin sighed through her nose, tilting her head back slightly against the couch. this was her live, wasn’t it? why did people keep making it about her assistant?
“why are you all so obsessed with y/n?” she asked, exasperated, raising a brow at the flood of comments.
she’s ours now, sorry.
we love her, duh.
bc she’s so pretty!!
jimin scoffed, eyes narrowing. ridiculous. she was the model, the main event, the one who should be getting all the attention. yet here her fans were, losing their minds over her assistant.
before she could come up with a new topic to distract them, a voice—low, raspy, and very much half-asleep—cut through the air.
“jimin?”
jimin went rigid.
the chat went feral.
THAT VOICE???
HELLO????
Y/N WAKEY WAKEY???
OH MY GOD SHE’S THERE LMFAO
panic flickered in jimin’s eyes as she turned her head, just in time to see y/n stumble into view.
she was a mess—hair tousled from sleep, her t-shirt hanging loose on her frame, probably borrowed from jimin’s own closet. she walked sluggishly, her bare feet making no sound against the hardwood floor as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, still completely clueless to the fact that thousands of people were currently watching her.
jimin subtly tried to angle her phone away, but it was too late.
y/n flopped onto the couch beside her, barely awake, her body naturally gravitating towards the cushions as if she belonged there. “have you seen princess?”
jimin’s eye twitched.
the comments? completely unhinged.
WHO IS PRINCESS???
is that their child??
are they co-parenting something???
HELP Y/N LITERALLY JUST WOKE UP AND WENT STRAIGHT TO HER
jimin exhaled sharply through her nose. “she’s in my closet,” she muttered, still trying to figure out a way to salvage the situation. “why?”
y/n hummed sleepily, leaning against the armrest. “wanted to cuddle her.”
jimin clenched her jaw as another wave of insane comments filled her screen.
i want to be princess.
not her waking up and immediately looking for their child.
SHE WOKE UP FROM WHERE EXACTLY 🤨
for a brief moment, jimin considered forcing y/n to go get princess just to get her out of the frame. but before she could, y/n simply curled up in her spot, grabbing the remote and casually scrolling through shows, completely oblivious to the chaos she had just caused.
jimin’s fans, on the other hand, were eating it up.
SHE’S JUST GETTING COMFORTABLE??? THIS IS HER HOME???
y/n please acknowledge the live we beg
DOES SHE NOT KNOW
jimin dragged a hand down her face, barely containing her frustration. of course this would happen.
as she scrolled through the comments, her jaw ticked at the sheer obsession everyone had with y/n. it was getting annoying. why did they always have to act like y/n was so interesting?
finally, she had enough.
she shot the camera a sharp glare. “enough. this live isn’t about her.”
y/n, still half-asleep, turned her head slightly. “huh?”
jimin forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “nothing.”
SO POSSESSIVE LMAO
oh she’s MAD mad
someone’s jealous 🤭
jimin immediately ended the live.
y/n blinked at her in confusion. “what was that about?”
“nothing,” jimin muttered, flopping back against the couch, crossing her arms.
y/n frowned, still clearly too groggy to think much of it. she shrugged, turning back to the tv.
jimin, however, grabbed a pillow and smacked it over her face with a groan.
next time, she was locking y/n in a room before going live.
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isaspsp · 14 hours ago
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I think my parents did pretty similar things. I'm feeling sensitive right now so, story sharing time.
I did misbehave every now and then, as all kids do. I don't remember this incident, but my mom does. I was doing whatever naughty thing, and she hit me to make me stop and discipline me. I stopped, started crying, and went away. My mom never hit me after that. She says it's one of her biggest regrets.
I remember when we got our big TV. I was maybe 8-9 and we had been at the store all day. I wasn't particularly interested in picking out a TV cus that seemed like adult business, and children have no right to poke their nose of that. But then, my dad crouches next to me, points to the final two tvs they were deciding between, and asked me which one I thought was best. And I do remember asking, "Why are you asking me this? I am a child." He laughed and said something among the lines of, "Children are always honest." And that gave me all the confidence and reassurance to choose what would be our TV for the next 10+ years.
They took the effort to see my side aswell. I grew up with my cousins. We were 6 kids in total, and with two of them being older, we 4 youngsters played together a lot. Of these four, the oldest used to bully me a lot (I bit him really hard once as revenge, but that is another story) and I had two younger cousins, the youngest of which, was the one I saw most often. He would come with us to trips and such. But he was the younger child, so he had preferences over me. If I had anything he wanted, I HAD to share. If he wanted to sit where I was, I had to move, lest he makes a fuss. But, if he had something that I wanted? He was under no obligation to share. It was Easter time, I was about 13 (?), and we had gotten ourselves fancy chocolate eggs. My aunt had gone along with us to shop. I'd done my research at the site of the store we were going to, so I knew exactly what I wanted. My aunt didn't know what to get my cousin, so she followed my lead and got him the same two eggs. My aunt used to be paid to clean our house once in a while and just so happened that that week my little cousin had come along. I was going to travel that weekend, and my eggs would be left behind, I'd only have them when we came back. So, having been thinking and fantasizing about the chocolate eggs for weeks, I sneaked around, opened one of the boxes, grabbed a piece, ate some, and put the rest in the refrigerator My aunt saw me do this. Later, my parents confronted me about it; my aunt had told them what happened, that I tried to hide just so I wouldn't have to share. I started crying about how if I didn't sneak around I would've had to share with my cousin, who had the exact same egg at his home, who wouldn't have to wait to come back from a trip, and that I would never get the same kindness back, the piece he would've taken from me, the egg that I so researched to get, that I beheaved and did well in school to get, I would have to give away, even if it was a small piece, and tgat, even if I asked nicely, my cousin wouldve said no, and nothing would be done anout it. And the damn was broken, so I mentioned also all the other times I had to give in because I was older, he was younger and I was bigger and could hurt him more. They looked at each other... and agreed with me. I was forced to share less after that. I still shared, of course, but now... I wasn't forced as much. (At least by my parents, we couldn't control everyone or course u_u)
I genuinely remember very VERY few times of my parents taking away my stuff or banning m3 from activities. If I remember at all, because all I have are "vague feelings" that it happened. And honestly, I think I turned out better for it.
I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.
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ducktoo · 3 days ago
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Cheeky
IVE’s An Yujin x M!Reader
Note: Thank u @mintwithchoco for the prompt! It was fun to write this! (I might have post it a bit early but It's a bit too fluff to rot in the jail-
Hope yall got enough dose of lethal Yujin. Here’s a cutie Yujin for yall
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(Can this woman not make me blush every single time-)
You have heard many opinions about An Yujin through her online exposure. Gorgeous yet strict, a natural professional and one of the most popular idols in the business.
So when you got hired as a personal bodyguard to IVE, you knew you had to be in your best behaviour. You were expecting a professional introduction. Maybe a polite handshake, a simple exchange of names, and a respectful nod—just like how it had been with every other client before.
But no. Instead, the first thing you got was laughter.
Loud, unabashed laughter.
You had barely stepped into the practice room, clad in your sharp black suit with an earpiece securely in place, when Yujin spun around mid-dance routine, caught sight of you, and nearly collapsed from laughing too hard.
"Oh my god, you look so serious!" She practically wheezed, hands on her knees.
You blinked, your professional composure wavering just slightly. That’s not the usual reaction.
"...Excuse me?"
She straightened up, still giggling, and gave you a once-over. "You're my new bodyguard, right? Wow, we’re the same age, but you look like you’re about to arrest me or something."
Yujin wiped at the corner of her eyes and grinned as she strolled up to you, radiating the kind of unbothered energy that made your brow twitch. Well this is…going to be a pain.
"Well at least I do look the part, no?" you asked, straightening your vest as you clear your throat . "I’m literally here to keep you safe."
"Oh, I’m very grateful." Yujin smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But I was kinda hoping for someone... I don’t know, scarier? You look way too nice."
You stared at her, unimpressed. "I can be scary."
"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."
You sighed and took a step forward, dropping your voice into a low, stern tone. "If you don't follow security protocol, I will personally make sure you regret it."
For a moment, Yujin's eyes widened, and you thought—just for a second—that she would actually take you seriously.
Then she grinned even wider.
“Ohhh,” she mused, stepping even closer, her face just inches from yours. “I like you already.”
You had a very bad feeling about this.
-
If you had known what was coming, you would’ve quit on the spot.
An Yujin, despite her public image of being a charming, responsible leader, was actually a menace.
If she wasn’t sneaking off to buy snacks at the nearby convenience stores without telling anyone, she was hiding behind doors just to jump-scare you. And the worst part? The other IVE members had joined in on it…but mostly Yujin.
"Come on, just one smile," Yujin teased one afternoon, poking your cheek while you stood guard by the van. "You've been with us for months, and I still haven't seen you laugh."
You exhaled through your nose. "My job is to protect you, not to entertain you."
"That’s so boring. How do you survive without fun?"
"By keeping a certain someone out of trouble." You shot her a pointed look.
Yujin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Wow. Is that how you see me? Just a walking headache?"
You opened your mouth—because yes she was a giant headache to you—but she cut you off, suddenly leaning in way too close.
"What if I am your problem, huh?" she whispered, eyes glinting with playful challenge.
You held your ground, staring her down. "...Then I'll have to handle you accordingly, I suppose."
Instead of backing off, Yujin grinned wider. "I’d like to see you try."
Oh, she was insufferable. And unfortunately, you were stuck with her.
-
"You know," Yujin drawled, stretching across the couch in the waiting room like a cat in the sun. One arm hung off the side lazily, while the other rested behind her head, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you like me more than you let on."
You sighed, already used to her antics. "What makes you think that?"
Her lips curled upward, slow and knowing, like she had already won whatever game she was playing. "Because I'm fun. And charming. And incredibly good-looking." She struck an exaggerated pose, tilting her chin up dramatically like some kind of historical monarch.
Across the room, Wonyoung groaned, rubbing her temples. "Unnie, please. Have some dignity."
"You don’t want me to tell the truth?" Yujin gasped, clutching her chest in mock devastation, her mouth slightly parted as if she had just been personally attacked.
"I don't want you to embarrass us in front of our bodyguard," Wonyoung corrected, glancing at you apologetically.
You just shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm used to it."
Yujin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but instead of making another joke, her expression softened just slightly—like she had caught something in your tone that intrigued her. Then, just as quickly, the mischief returned. "See? That's basically an admission that you enjoy my company."
You gave her a deadpan look. "That is not what I said."
"Too late, I'm taking it as fact." She stretched her arms over her head, looking far too pleased with herself.
You exhaled through your nose, choosing to ignore her. If there was one thing you'd learned about An Yujin, it was that engaging with her nonsense only fuelled her further.
But despite all her teasing and the way she constantly pushed your buttons, there were moments when she reminded you why she was the leader of IVE.
Like now.
Liz sat in the corner of the room, staring down at her phone with her lips pressed into a tight line. She was fidgeting, her hands twisting together in her lap—a stark contrast to the usual easygoing energy she carried.
Yujin noticed instantly. Her playful expression melted away, replaced by something steadier. More grounded. She pushed herself off the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides before crouching beside Liz.
"Jiwonie," she called softly, nudging her knee against Liz’s. "What’s up?"
Liz hesitated before sighing. "I feel like I keep messing up my parts in the choreography."
Yujin tilted her head, studying her with an unreadable expression. Then, instead of immediately reassuring her, she took a moment. Just a beat of silence—enough to let Liz’s words settle before responding.
"You don’t," Yujin said firmly. "We practiced together, remember? You’re doing fine."
"But—"
"No buts." Yujin stood up, walked over, and slung an arm around Liz’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You know what I told you? The best performers aren’t the ones who get everything perfect all the time. They’re the ones who keep going no matter what."
Liz still looked uncertain, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You really think so?"
"I know so." Yujin grinned. "Besides, if you mess up, I’ll just mess up too. That way, we’re both in trouble."
"That’s a terrible encouragement," you muttered.
Yujin turned her head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the glint in her eyes was back. The glint. The one that usually meant trouble.
"It’s called leadership," Yujin shot back. "Ever heard of it?"
You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but you didn’t argue. Liz was smiling now, and that was proof enough that whatever Yujin was doing was working. She had a way of lifting her members’ spirits that was genuinely impressive.
Liz laughed, looking much more relaxed. "Thanks, unnie."
"Anytime," Yujin replied, patting her head before making her way back to her spot on the couch. As she passed you, she glanced up, smirking.
"See? I'm not just a pain in your ass."
"I never said that," you replied, but she only winked before plopping back onto the couch like she hadn’t just effortlessly reassured one of her members.
You sighed. Protecting An Yujin was exhausting… but you didn’t mind as much as you pretended to.
-
Your day off. A rare and precious thing.
You had been looking forward to it—no earpiece, no schedule to follow, no six-foot radius of hyper-vigilance around an overgrown puppy disguised as an idol. Just a quiet, peaceful day to yourself.
Or so you thought.
The realization hit you like a cruel joke when you spotted her.
An Yujin. Hoodie up, mask on, but you’d recognize her anywhere. The way she walked, slightly loose-limbed and confident, like the world was hers to navigate. The way she hummed under her breath as she glanced at store signs, completely unaware of how reckless she was being.
You groaned under your breath. Of course.
But before you could even question why she was out alone, without security, without backup, you saw him. A man. Mid-thirties. Dark hoodie. His posture was too stiff, his steps too calculated. He lingered a few feet behind Yujin, never overtaking her, never slowing down. His gaze flickered to her every few seconds, fingers twitching slightly as if waiting for something.
Your instincts kicked in immediately.
You followed her into a convenience store, keeping to the shelves as she strolled past the snack aisle. She had no idea. Her biggest concern at the moment was probably whether to get banana milk or iced coffee—completely oblivious to the shadow tailing her.
He lingered near the entrance, pretending to look at snacks but never actually picking anything up. His eyes were locked on Yujin, and his fingers twitched like he was waiting for the right moment.
Sasaeng. Your stomach turned cold.
You moved fast.
The moment Yujin left the store, you followed right behind. And just as the man reached out—
You grabbed his wrist. Tight.
A sharp intake of breath. The man's head snapped toward you, eyes widening in shock and irritation.
"The hell—?" he hissed, jerking back, but you didn’t let go.
Yujin spun around, startled. "Huh?—"
"Good afternoon, mister." You pulled her behind you instinctively, keeping your grip on the man. "I don’t know what you think you’re doing," you said, voice low and firm, "but walk away. Now."
The man scowled, trying to yank his arm free. "Who the hell are you?"
"Her bodyguard," you answered coldly. "And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, you won’t like what happens next."
A flicker of hesitation. His eyes darted between you and Yujin, who was standing rigid behind you now, her usual carefree energy drained into something tense and alert.
Then, finally, the man sneered and yanked his arm free. "Tch. Not worth it," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.
You stood there for a moment, making sure he was really gone, before exhaling.
And then you remembered the girl behind you.
"So…what the hell?" you snapped, turning to her. "Why are you alone?"
She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, still processing what just happened. "Uh…"
"You know how dangerous this is, right?" Your voice was sharper than usual, the adrenaline still running through you. "No staff, no backup, no security. What were you thinking?"
Yujin finally seemed to snap out of it, rubbing the back of her neck. "...I just wanted to go out for a bit. I didn’t want to bother anyone."
Your fists clenched, the lingering adrenaline making your chest feel too tight. "You call this not bothering anyone? You're lucky I decided to go out right now you dunce."
She hesitated, shifting on her feet. Then, in a small voice, she admitted, "I didn’t even realize he was following me."
You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose.
"Yujin," you muttered, softer this time, "this is exactly why you can’t go out alone. It’s not about you wanting freedom, it’s about your safety. There are people out there who—" You stopped, shaking your head. "Just... don’t do this again."
Silence stretched between you for a few seconds before Yujin suddenly smiled.
It wasn’t her usual teasing grin. It was softer. Almost... grateful.
"You really do care about me, huh?"
You groaned. "That’s what you’re taking from this?"
Her lips twitched, and just like that, the mischievous glint in her eyes was back. She nudged your arm playfully. "Admit it. You’d miss me if I got kidnapped."
"Don't make me use profanity you—"
"Fine, fine!" She laughed, hands up in surrender. But then she let out a breath, gaze flickering down for a second before meeting yours again, more earnest this time.
"Seriously, though," she murmured. "Thanks. I mean it."
You watched her for a moment, noting the way her usual carefree mask had cracked just a little. The way her eyes, despite the teasing, held something like genuine gratitude. She nudged you playfully. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"
"More like you owe me about a hundred at this point," you muttered, finally relaxing.
Yujin grinned. "Then I’ll start by buying you lunch. C’mon, bodyguard. Let’s eat."
And despite everything, despite the fact that this was supposed to be your day off, you found yourself walking beside her, watching her laugh like nothing had happened.
-
You should’ve known saving An Yujin would have consequences.
Not in the form of a promotion or a bonus (though you wouldn’t say no to either), but in the absolute menace she had become ever since that day.
At first, you thought you were imagining things—the longer stares, the way her lips curled mischievously whenever she caught your eye, the subtle brushes of her fingers against your arm whenever she passed by.
Then, the touches became more deliberate. The teasing got more frequent. The closeness is more unbearable.
It was like a switch had flipped. Suddenly, your personal space was no longer yours. And the worst part? She did it so naturally, like she had always been this clingy with you.
Just like this one morning at the company building—
"Mr. Bodyguaaard~" Yujin sang as she threw an arm over your shoulders, completely ignoring the amused stares of the staff around you. "Walk me to the practice room!"
You exhaled. "Yujin, You know I’m going there anyway."
"But this way is more fun." She tightened her grip, practically hanging off you.
You gave her a look. "...Do you have to be this close?"
"Yes," she said simply, grinning.
It only got worse after a long schedule. You were expecting Yujin to slump in exhaustion like she usually did. Instead, the moment she climbed into the van, she scooted over without hesitation, settling in way too close before dropping her head onto your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.
Your entire body stiffened.
"What are you doing?" you asked, voice flat, not daring to move.
"Getting comfortable," she mumbled, shifting slightly as if trying to mold herself against you.
Your brow twitched. "You have an entire seat to yourself."
"But I don’t want to sit alone," she said simply, eyes fluttering shut. "You’re warm."
Across from you, Wonyoung and Liz exchanged knowing looks.
"Oh no," Gaeul muttered, covering her mouth to hide a laugh.
"I don’t get it," Wonyoung whispered, glancing between you and Yujin. "Since when were they this close?"
Liz smirked. "Since someone got rescued and suddenly realized how cool their bodyguard is."
You sighed. "I heard that, Jiwon."
"I'm glad you did," Liz cheekily shot back.
Meanwhile, Yujin hummed in contentment, completely ignoring the stares and the muffled giggles of her members. As if your shoulder was the perfect place to rest, she nestled in further, her soft breath fanning against your neck.
You felt heat creep up your collar.
"...Heavy," you muttered, shifting slightly.
"Comfy," she countered with a teasing lilt, her lips curling into a lazy grin.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Gaeul shaking her head. "This is getting dangerous."
Liz, meanwhile, giggled behind her hand. "We should start selling tickets to this slow-burn romance."
You groaned. Yujin? She just smirked.
Her clingy antics doesn't stop in the comfort of their dorm, unfortunately. Before their music show performance, you were standing near the dressing room door, waiting for the members to finish.
And then the door swung open.
Yujin strolled out like she was making a grand entrance, her hair freshly styled, her makeup flawless—looking every bit the idol she was.
And then, in one smooth motion, she reached out, grabbed your hand, and laced her fingers with yours.
Your brain lagged.
"Let’s go, mister!" she announced.
You blinked. "Why are you holding my hand—?"
"You saved me, so now I’m keeping you close!" she said cheerfully. "You're my lucky charm!"
Behind her, Leeseo’s jaw dropped. Liz and Rei had to turn away to hide their laughter.
"Yujin," you hissed under your breath, trying to pull away.
She only tightened her grip.
"Nope," she said. "Mine now."
You could physically feel Wonyoung’s migraine forming. "You cannot just say that out loud," Wonyoung groaned, covering her face.
"I just did." Yujin smirked, swinging your intertwined hands slightly, watching your reaction with delight.
Liz and Rei lost it, muffling their laughter behind their hands.
At that moment, a staff member walked by, did a double-take at your very obvious hand-holding situation, and nearly tripped.
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
-
You really should have been more prepared for this.
It happened at the airport, in front of dozens of fans, reporters, and flashing cameras.
You were walking beside Yujin, scanning the crowd for any potential threats, keeping a careful distance—when suddenly—
"Honey~!"
You froze. The world stopped.
Gasps. Shrieks. Camera flashes directly in your face.
Even the security personnel ahead of you paused.
Your entire being short-circuited. "What did you just call me?"
Yujin, completely unbothered, turned to you with an innocent smile. "Honey~" she repeated, her voice sweet as sugar.
Wonyoung, Gaeul, and Rei screamed.
 Leeseo was flabbergasted, with Liz quickly covering the youngest's ear from behind.
Even the fans were losing their minds.
"OH MY GOD—"
"WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY—"
"HUH?!?!?"
"YUJIN CALLED HER BODYGUARD HONEY?!?!"
"What. The. Hell. Yujin?!" Your ears burned with embarrassment. "Are you trying to make me headline Dispatch?"
"You take care of me," Yujin said smoothly, not missing a beat. "You protect me, you make sure I eat, you saved my life—so obviously, you're my honey."
"You cannot just say that out loud in public," you hissed, absolutely mortified.
"But I just did," she replied with a grin, eyes twinkling with mischief.
You quickly cover her mouth, frantically trying to damage control. "STOP!!!!"
At this point, Wonyoung had buried her face in her hands, physically unable to process what was happening. Gaeul was bent over, wheezing. Rei looked like she was watching the most dramatic plot twist unfold in real life.
A fan nearby whispered to their friend, "Do you think they’re dating?"
You nearly collapsed.
And Yujin?
She just tugged on your sleeve, eyes filled with amusement, and smiled. "Come on, honey. Let’s go."
And as you caught the knowing grins of her members, the delighted chaos among the fans, and the sheer horror on your own face reflected in the airport glass, you realized something.
You didn’t just save An Yujin.
You unleashed a monster.
326 notes · View notes
natsaffection · 1 day ago
Note
You should write more vamp nat but like fluff. PLEASE write one where vampire nat becomes like a whiney and needy dom. Or protective vampire nat, jealous vampire nat, obsessive vampire nat, possessive vampire nat
Vampire Natasha | hcs
Vampire!older!Natasha x Human!younger!Reader
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A/N: Headcanons under the cut!
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Being loved by Natasha isn’t just a romance..it’s an eternal, inescapable obsession.
🩸 Natasha’s Obsession with You 🩸
• Natasha doesn’t just love you, she worships you. You are the center of her universe, the one thing keeping her grounded in an immortal existence that would otherwise mean nothing.
• She is constantly watching you, even when you think she isn’t. She lurks in the shadows, monitoring your every move, making sure you’re safe.
• Her mind is consumed by you. Even when she’s away, you are all she thinks about. Your scent lingers in her nose, your voice echoes in her head, your warmth haunts her cold, undead body.
• She needs to touch you at all times. If you so much as shift away from her, she will immediately pull you back, gripping your hips, nuzzling into your neck.
• “You are mine, Darling. You don’t get to be anywhere but here.”
• Her obsession is territorial. She wants people to know that you belong to her. She wants them to be afraid of what will happen if they forget.
• She loves marking you. Whether it’s faint bite marks, bruises from her grip, or the possessive way her scent clings to your skin, she needs the world to see her claim on you.
🩸 Overprotective & Possessive Natasha 🩸
• If Natasha could keep you locked away in a castle where no one else could see you, she would. The only reason she doesn’t is because she knows you’d fight her on it.
• No one gets too close to you. If they do, they don’t get a second chance. One wrong glance, one lingering touch, and Natasha is there, standing between you and them, her green eyes glowing with quiet rage.
• “Back. Away.” Her voice is soft, calm, but the threat is undeniable.
• She makes sure you’re never alone. If she isn’t physically beside you, you will be carrying something of hers: a jacket, a scarf, something that makes it clear you are claimed.
• If she even suspects someone is following you, they disappear before they ever reach you. You never know what happens to them. You never ask.
• “You are so fragile, lyubov..(love)” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But don’t worry. I will never let anything hurt you.”
🩸 Jealous & Territorial Natasha 🩸
• Natasha doesn’t get jealous..she gets territorial. If someone even thinks about flirting with you, she is immediately at your side, pressing a slow kiss to your neck while glaring at them.
• She loves to make it clear that you belong to her. She’ll whisper possessive little things into your ear just to make sure everyone knows.
• “Let them look. Let them see what they can’t have.”
• If someone dares to flirt with you? She will drag you into her lap, wrapping an arm around you as she leans in close to your ear.
• “Tell them you’re taken.”
• If you hesitate for even a second, she will say it for you. With her fangs bared.
• If a vampire ever dares to challenge her claim on you? That’s a death sentence. Everyone knows better than to cross Natasha Romanoff, but if someone is stupid enough to try, she makes an example out of them.
🩸 Needy & Whiny Dom Natasha 🩸
• Despite how dominant she is, Natasha is so needy. She is clingy, whiny, and desperate for your attention.
• If you don’t give her enough affection, she will pout and sulk, curling herself around you like a spoiled cat.
• “Why are you ignoring me, moya lyubov? (My love) I’ve been so good for you.”
• If you even attempt to move away from her in bed, she whimpers dramatically, burying her face in your neck.
• “Stay. You’re warm. I’ll die without you.”
• She hates waiting. If you tease her, if you tell her “not right now.” she will physically drag you into her lap, gripping your hips tightly.
• “I don’t wait for what’s mine, Detka (Baby). And you are mine.”
• She is a spoiled dom. She doesn’t like being teased, and if you push her too far, she will make sure you regret it. She whines when denied but ruins you once she gets what she wants.
• She gets especially needy when she’s hungry. Not just for blood, but for you. You can always tell because she’ll start getting clingier than usual, constantly nuzzling into your neck, letting her lips linger against your skin for just a little too long.
• “You smell so good..” she murmurs, voice thick with longing. “I could devour you whole.”
• If you tease her? Oh, you’re doomed. If you so much as smirk and say “Not now, Nat..” she will literally whine like a spoiled brat.
• “But I need you.” Her hands grip your hips possessively, her lips pressing against your collarbone. “Please. Just one taste..”
🩸 The Monster in Love With You 🩸
• Natasha Romanoff is not a normal lover. She is obsessive. She is dangerous. She is inhumanly in love with you.
• She will never let you go. Not now, not in a hundred years. You are hers, and she is yours, and she will kill anyone who forgets that.
• She will make you feel her love. In the way she protects you, in the way she clings to you, in the way she worships your existence like a starving animal.
• And one day, she will ask you:
“Let me keep you forever.” And she will wait, patient but hungry, as you decide whether or not you want to become hers in every way possible.
Would you say yes?
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222 notes · View notes
natalievoncatte · 2 days ago
Text
| This is an act of pure self indulgence, because this one made me sad.
This was a new thing, fragile and beautiful. These moments had always been awkward before- Kelly wasn’t often at the Tower, but when she was she would give Alex the classic gift for luck and Nia and Brainy would have their little moment and Lena would awkwardly stand there and wish Kara good luck or something before they all ran off to fight the alien or… whatever.
Now it was Lena’s turn and she was going to savor it. She sauntered up to Kara, enjoying the look of surprise on everyone’s faces as she placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lover’s lips. Kara deepened it, bracketing Lena’s waist with her powerful hands. Standing there in her boots and cape, Kara was like a storybook night, even grinning like a teenager.
“What the hell was that?” Alex blurted.
“You all do it. Can’t I give my girl a good luck kiss?” said Lena.
Alex gaped at her. Nia began to giggle and Brainy nodded slowly, a secret smile on his face.
“How long?” Kelly asked.
“About five years,” said Lena, “it just took a while to figure it out.”
Kara nuzzled her nose into Lena’s hair and a deep rumble buzzed in her chest as she purred in delight.
“Is she purring?!” said Kelly.
“She does that,” Alex sighed. “Come on everybody, cowboy up and let’s get this guy bagged and tagged. I want to be back here for our victory dance in twenty.”
Lena stood next to Kelly and watched them leave.
“Have you ever thought about going with them?” said Kelly. “You’re a billionaire witch, you could probably-“
They were both cut off by the resounding boom behind them, and Lena whirled as a portal opened right in the middle of the Tower.
Lena watched in shock as Kara walked out. Not her Kara, another Kara from another timeline, a sickly, wounded woman with half her face and her arm and leg missing, replaced by sleek blue metal, and a blazing chunk of Kryptonite where her heart should be.
Kelly let out a shocked yelp and danced back, but Lena stepped forward.
“She won’t hurt us,” said Lena.
Then, she saw what Kara was carrying. Who she was carrying.
The Lena in her arms was not a mirror image. She was older, thinner, short hair streaked with gray and a patch over one eye, and she hung limp in Kara’s arms.
“Help her,” Kara rasped in her mechanical growl. “Please, Lena. Don’t let her die.”
“Come on,” Lena said, to Kelly. “You’re a doctor, you can help me.”
“I’m a psychologist, Lena.”
“Fine, you’re smart and you have hands. Kara, bring her to the medbay.”
“You’ll have to show me. We didn’t have one of these in my world.”
Lena nodded and led them down to the level below and directed Kara to lay… Lena on one of the beds and waved for Kelly to bring her instruments.
“What happened?”
“There was another me there,” said Kara. “She was wrong, broken… not like me. She took over her world, her Lena died, she kept mine like a pet.”
Lena looked at her.
“The Kryptonite has its uses,” Kara said, coldly.
Lena pressed a hand to her other self’s shoulder, shaking her gently.
“Lena,” said Lena. “Lena, can you hear me?”
“She has a pulse,” said Kelly, “but it’s faint. She’s breathing.”
“The Other,” said Kara. “She said she implanted some kind of device in her chest, triggered it before I…”
The Lena on the table convulsed, foamy spittle spraying from her mouth. It took Lena and Kelly to keep her from bucking off the table as Kara clutched the side of her head and wailed in rasping torment.
“Please don’t let her die, I can’t live without her. Please not now please.”
“She’s not going to die,” said Lena.
At that very moment, Kara -her Kara- walked into the medbay with Alex. As she approached, the protective Kryptonite suit formed and snapped into place around her.
Alex drew her alien pistol and aimed at the Other Kara.
“Get away from them.”
“Alex, no,” Lena shouted, stepping between them.
Her Kara gently pushed Alex’s arm down, sweeping her aim away.
“What happened to you?”
Other Kara rasped, “Lex. Killed me. Metallo protocol. Sent Lena to the phantom zone. Help her.
Alex holstered her weapon and rushed over, gently moving Kelly aside.
“Fuck, she’s not breathing, something is choking her. We need to get a breathing tube in.”
“Lena, do you have your watch?” said Kara. Her Kara.
“Yes.”
“The Fortress. Now.”
Lena nodded and stepped away from the table, activating her portal watch. The portal boomed open and Kara gently shouldered her cyborg doppleganger aside and took the dying Lena in her arms, and rushed through the portal, and Lena followed.
The cold was a shock but Lena didn’t care as the adrenaline roared in her veins.
“Follow me,” Kara said, before blurring away into the Fortress.
Lena ran after her, Alex and Kelly in tow.
“What is this place?” Kara rasped.
“The Fortress of Solitude,” said Lena. “Kara’s cousin built this place with Kryptonian technology from his pod.”
“Cousin?” said the cyborg. “Pos?”
“Don’t you have all this stuff on your Earth?” said Alex.
“No. I was teleported to my Earth, not sent aboard a pod. There was only enough energy for me… Kal-El was supposed to join me but…”
“He’s here,” said Lena. “In our world, he lived and became a hero like you. He’s the Superman.”
Cyborg Kara stumbled, skidding to a stop as she stared up at the massive statues of Jor-El and his wife, Lara Lor-Van. Clark’s parents.
They finally caught up to Kara, who placed Lena gently in one of the pods and pulled down the canopy. A soft hiss of air was followed by a hollow thrum as the machine came to life.
“She’s in stasis,” said Kara. “I’ll run scans and we can collect samples, find out what’s wrong.”
Cyborg Kara let out a strange, rasping sound, pained and guttural. She was sobbing.
Kara, still protected by her suit, stepped in and put her arms around her counterpart, pulling her into a hug.
“We’re going to save her. I promise.”
“Please. Please just let me speak to her one more time.”
“We’ll do more than that. I promise.”
“Kara,” said Lena. “Let me look at her.”
Kara stepped aside. Lena stepped close to the cyborg, a deep pang of sadness exploding in her chest as the broken woman turned away.
“Don’t look at me.”
“I have to if I’m going to fix you.”
“Fix me?”
“I can replace the Kryptonite as a power source for your cybernetics, repair some of this damage. If you’ll let me.”
She looked at Lena uncertainly. Kara put a hand on her shoulder.
“Your Lena is going to need you, and you don’t deserve this pain. Let us help you.”
“…alright.”
“Alex,” said Kara. “Take the portal back to the tower. Call everyone. I’m going to send a message to Clark on Argo.”
Lena led Cyborg Kara away to another lab and motioned for her to sit down, then began going over her with the benefit of Kryptonian technology.
“My God,” Lena whispered.
The cyborg had to be in constant agony. Her mechanical components had taken damage her flesh would have shrugged off. When she took a blood sample, she found that the very Kryptonite that kept her alive was turning her blood corrosive, and her superhuman healing and a healthy dose of nanites were keeping it in balance, but did nothing to spare her the pain of the radiation.
It was a losing battle. She would eventually rot from the inside.
“I need you to lie down, and to trust me.”
She began by fabricating a new power source. The Kryptonite had never been essential to the Metallo Protocol- the point had been to make the subject deadly to Superman.
Once she had it online and modified to fit into the power plant on Kara’s chest, it was simply a matter of carefully lifting the Kryptonite core out and swapping out the connections. Once she had the wiring done, all she had to do was lock the power supply in place.
Lena sealed the Kryptonite behind a Kryptonian force field, containing its radiation.
Once she did, Cyborg Kara sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered, “it doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m not done,” Lena said, gently. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s my own work.”
It took hours. She started on the most painful parts for Kara, carefully repairing and rebuilding joints and connections between her organic and mechanical systems. It really was a wonder. Her counterpart was a genius.
Obviously.
She fixed the speaker in her throat last, making her voice clearer if not perfect.
“Thank you,” Kara murmured. A tear of dark blood flowed down her cheek and her chest shook with relief. “Part of me was afraid I’d die before she wakes.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“I left her alone, Lena. She was trapped in that awful place and the… other… me was a monster. She hurt my Lena.”
“Kara,” said Lena.
“I did something terrible. I had to, she made me. She made me.”
Lena gently dabbed the crimson streak from her cheek. “Hush. It’s okay. It’s over now, you’re safe with us.”
Cyborg Kara swallowed and looked at her, just looked at her, and Lena felt a jolt ripple through her. She looked just like her Kara, looking at her as if she made the sun rise.
“Come on, let’s see where we are with, um, me,” said Lena.
The mood was somber when they walked back into the chamber. Kara no longer needed her Kryptonite resistant suit, so it didn’t activate.
Lena’s counterpart lay in the stasis pod like some futuristic Snow White, eyes closed, frozen. Cyborg Kara pressed her intact hand to the glass.
Kara put her hand on it.
“I won’t give up on her,” Kara promised. “I swear it.”
“I know you won’t,” said the cyborg. “You’re me.”
Alex stormed into the room.
“Okay,” said Alex. “Kara, I called in a favor. Can we move this pod?”
“If we have to,” said Kara. “Why?”
“We’re taking her to Themyscira,” said Alex.
Yes, I will write a third one, and probably publish this on AO3. I can’t let it go, lol.
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fictionalsweethearts · 3 days ago
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ENDURE, TAKE, OWN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE
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Synopsis: As you take control of your pleasure, Sevika reveals memories that still hurt.
Contains: hurt/comfort, soft!sevika, confessions, kissing, strap-on, vulnerability.
This a sequel of this fic, in case you wanna check it out. Enjoy!
"Huh, I don't remember..." Sevika said. "It happened ages ago."
"Are you calling yourself an elder right now?" you teased her, standing behind her, running your hand through her black strands. "How old were you?"
"Uhm... I dunno, seventeen?"
"Seventeen and sneaking girls into your room?"
"It didn't happen in my bedroom, doll." Sevika grinned just a bit, as if the emotion of the moment had suddenly seized her again, just as it had twenty-three years ago. "It happened in a warehouse where I used to work."
Sevika seemed to go over the events in her mind, she could still smell the alcohol and the aged wood, the girl's perfume, the taste of tobacco. Just the memory made her happy somehow, the expectation and the amazement she felt within those four walls was liberating, as she found herself in some sort of awakening.
"You see… I was still pretty lost when I was seventeen, I made a lot of bad decisions, I met people I shouldn't have hung out with," she explained. "The arguments with my old man were a daily thing, I was kicked out of the house many times. I don't regret it, though."
A gentle breeze blew through the window, and by then you were already running a brush through Sevika's locks. Seeing her with her hair down softened her features in a way you hadn't expected.
"I started working in a warehouse for the Barral Twelve company."
"Wasn't it the owner of that company who…?"
"Who killed himself in the main square? Yes, that same one. Those were different times, people were more… showy." Sevika sighed. "I worked double shifts, just to keep a roof over my head and not come back home with my tail between my legs, like my father expected. I used to steal things from the warehouse, mostly booze. It was more fun to work drunk."
"You drove the company into bankrupt then." you joked.
"Probably." Sevika chuckled, followed by a soft hum as you brushed her hair. "What are you doing?"
"You always wear that boring half ponytail, I thought… I'd change your look. For tonight."
"Just don't make me look like a schoolgirl."
"I won't." you smiled, starting to divide her hair into three sections. "I'm listening."
And Sevika continued.
"There was this girl I worked with, Nina," the woman continued, settling back in her chair as you did her hair. "She was older, I think. Twenty? I don't remember, but I do remember that we would sneak into the back rooms to smoke and drink whatever was on the shelves."
"So your first time happened in a warehouse?"
"Romantic, isn't it?" Sevika shrugged. "I'd kissed girls before, it was fun, but I was interested in what else she could offer."
You started braiding her hair, so delicately that Sevika felt a tickle on her scalp. "I remember taking off that ashen shirt of hers, she wasn't wearing a bra. I tried to suck on her nipples, she liked it…"
Sevika paused to review the events. "It must have happened during the break, we were in a hurry. I wasn't ashamed, rather curious cause I always liked her, she was pretty. Just maybe too much of a junkie for my taste."
"Junkie?"
"The white-nosed ones."
"Geez."
"Indeed." she agreed. "I remember her pushing me up against the wall, shoving her hands into my pants, and the rest happened in a minute or two. She covered my mouth when I came."
"And that was it?"
"First times are just that," Sevika said simply. "They're awkward, fleeting… even borning sometimes."
And that doesn't mean they were worth forgetting, they were steps to step on in an endless staircase of learning and mistakes. Sevika didn't see the first encounters as a problem, but rather as a time to identify what her body had to offer. After that encounter, she wasn't afraid to seek contact with girls in clubs, roommates, neighbors, waitresses or brothel workers. She was trying out the sexual diversity of Zaun, from shy women to shameless ones who enjoyed a slap in the middle of oral or a hand placed on their throat. Sevika accepted everything, in order to learn, in order to feel in control of what her body provoked in others. And she loved to own that power.
"Did you see her again?" you asked then, undoing the braid when you saw that it had become crooked. Not that Sevika was complaining, the feeling of your hands in her hair was delightful.
"No, she died. Overdose."
"Shit."
"Over time you learn to read people better, Nina had been seeing that coming for a long time."
Sevika had learned not to get attached to people whose lives hung in the balance. Death lurks around every corner in Zaun, in the form of drugs, crime and incidents, so seeing her peers succumb to one seemed more of a probability than an isolated case. Many times it was she who was dancing with death, dedicating herself to gangs from an early age, playing with substances that she herself did not know how to handle or exposing herself to Zaunian gases that competed to ruin her lungs with the cigarettes that she smoked day and night. Sevika's body remained firm as a rock, rooted to the land that saw her birth and her greatest tool to carry out a cause that gave her no respite.
Until the cause itself snatched one of her arms.
"I've never dared to ask you," you said after a moment of silence, your fingers gently braiding her hair. By then Sevika couldn't stop sighing.
"About?"
"The arm."
This time Sevika didn't sigh, but instead let out a subtle grunt.
"What do you wanna know?"
"About the experience… if you want to talk about it."
"I'd rather not." she admitted, noticing the way you flinched. "It's not a fairytale, doll. Losing a limb it's something you never quite understand."
"I know I couldn't fully understand it myself." you assured, now hesitant. "I'm sorry, I'm prying."
"What you wanna hear? The pain? The months it took me to get used to a life without an arm?"
You pulled your hands away from her hair, thinking you pushed the subject too far. Only for Sevika to sigh for the thousandth time and draw your hands into her hair again. "Alright... My arm was severely burned after a hex blast. It was completely unsalvageable from shoulder to hand."
And the rest of the story flowed so easily from her lips, that Sevika thought she had been waiting for someone to ask her so she could let out all the intrinsic thoughts she had been holding back since that incident seven years ago. "I still have the scapula and the clavicle, so inserting a prosthesis was possible. The first few days were hard to say the least, the phantom pains kept bothering me in the mornings and the pain in my neck didn't let up."
"Neck pain?"
"The weight of the prosthesis. This thing isn't light."
"I can imagine…"
"I never thought you could mourn a part of your body." Her expression darkened, the subject was as thorny as always. She soon felt the itch for a cigarette, something to somatize the emotions that were surging. She reached for the package on the coffee table. "You mind?"
"Course not." You assured, leaning down to light the cigarette between her lips. Sevika explained some details between smoke clouds, she certainly didn't allow herself to suffer from the accident as much as she would have liked. If the cause took her arm, she would continue with it until it took from her another or her life. Her priorities were ans still are different and to this day she believes that the loss of her arm was collateral damage.
"That doesn't make it any easier, Sev…" you whispered, wrapping your arms around her neck.
"It makes it more bearable," Sevika said. "Life down here is not about making it easier, but more bearable. I have learned to endure and soon enough my missing arm turned into an inconvenience only."
You processed her words in silence. Sevika seemed a woman so resigned to her place in the world that whatever she had to sacrifice for the cause was not a motive for sorrow, but rather for resilience. She believed in the power of overcoming situations, in moving forward and leaving behind what was necessary, and in the meantime, allowing herself fleeting moments of pleasure between gambling and women. Just to keep endure and give her tired soul a brief break.
"Have you realized you act just like a soldier?" You said then, making Sevika chuckle.
"Fuck off." You leaned down to kiss the blue scars on her cheek and neck, softening her frown. "Did you finish my hair, pretty girl?"
"Yeah, you look so pretty."
"Don't use that word on me."
But as soon as she looked at the mirror you brought her, the word no longer sounded so strange. You had made her hair into a loose braid, able to soften her features to the point that Sevika saw for a moment that seventeen-year-old girl, smoking inside the warehouse and willing to do anything to bring dignity to the land in which she lived.
She kept such thoughts to herself, of course, but you felt it in her gray gaze. She liked it. "Enough talking," she said then, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray. "Let's save the mushiness for bed."
-◊-
You felt confident that night, shame no longer tied you down, nor did fear. You felt in control of your own skin and capable of transmitting such courage to Sevika. From the first kiss she was willing to be the one explored on this occasion, and you were grateful for her willingness to allow it. Sevika put her metal hand behind her head, the flesh one caressing your cheek as you spread kisses over her chest and abdomen, descending with tortuous slowness but giving her a view worthy of admiration. You were focused on each kiss, each touch, your thumbs embedded in Sevika's hips, massaging in circles before moving her legs apart, placing a kiss on her inner thigh.
"You have such pretty skin." you whispered.
"Flattering me now?"
"Stating the truth."
Having Sevika naked in front of you was not an opportunity to waste. She didn't usually strip completely, there was something about her that kept her on guard, you didn't know what yet. You thought it was her constant state of alert, she learned to never let her guard down. But today her tan skin was visible and within your reach and you couldn't help but shower it with kisses.
Sevika frowned, meaning she was liking what you were doing. By now you had explored the expanse of her skin and your lips were resting on her breasts. You sucked on her dark nipple, your other hand squeezing the other and you heard her sigh. Sevika followed your every move intently, her hand cupping the back of your neck to signal you to continue, and you caught her hint, taking your hand betwen her legs and rubbing gently, you felt a pang of pride by sensing how wet she was.
"To think that you barely dared to grab my ass before," the woman grinned. "You've improved."
You looked at her, leaning down to give her a kiss on the lips before spreading more on her cheek and the path of scars down to her neck. They were blue, Sevika hadn't used shimmer that night, in fact, you've seen her sober more frequently these days.
"As far as you allow me, Vika." you purred.
"Go downstairs, then." Sevika whispered, cupping your cheek as her eyes lit up. "I know you want it."
You felt a pang of anticipation stir in your gut, it was what you were aiming for and luckily Sevika read your mind before you asked her. You nodded, giving her another kiss before tracing your path from her chin to her pubis again, your breath brushing her pussy with a subtle tickle.
You scattered kisses around, patiently. If Sevika had taught you anything, it was not to rush. Her fingers tangled in your hair with a certain affection, she bent one of her legs as you moved them apart, allowing you better access. "Slow… as slow as you want, doll."
With the pad of your tongue, you spread a long lick from the entrance to the bud, drawing a subtle moan from Sevika's lips and giving you that dose of approval you were looking for. With the tip you traced circles, exploring the folds gently and then sucking on the hood, enjoying the musky taste.
"Just like that, pretty girl." Sevika whispered.
"You taste so good…" you moaned, lying on your stomach as you pulled her legs over your shoulders.
"Getting comfy, are we?"
"I deserve it, don't you think?"
Sevika smiled. "Yeah... you do."
You reveled in the sensations of her, the thought of pleasing her alone, it pleased you. There was something about Sevika’s physicality that drove you crazy. Maybe it was the subtle moans or the way her hips moved against your mouth, or the way her fingers tangled in your locks and asked for more. She wasn’t afraid to give instructions; slower, faster, smooth your tongue, yes so good, oh fuck… higher, suck there, ah shit. And you followed each one of them, committed to her pleasure as much as she was committed to yours.
"Feasting on me, don't you?" she said, followed by a loud hiss. "Look where teaching you got me, I should have done it a long time ago."
And you reached out your hand to trace circles on her abdomen, her muscles tightening under your palm as Sevika moaned, gritting her teeth as if your touch was painful, and it was so slow that it actually hurt. She reached for your hand, bringing it to her tit and you squeezed. “Keep it like that…” she panted.
Sevika wasn't loud when it came to cumming, she was as measured as always, she usually swallowed her moans or smothered them in a growl, followed by a long sigh as her whole body relaxed. If only you could take the weight off her shoulders that she's been carrying for as long as she can remember, if only you could make her feel as good as she does now all the time.
You placed one last kiss on her pussy, tracing an upward path back to her lips and kissing her with so much affection that it was mistaken for devotion; the truth is that you felt both for her. Sevika cupped the back of your neck, caressing it while her other hand brushed a lock of hair out of your eyes. "You've done very well," she whispered against your mouth.
With one look you knew it was time for what you feared and anticipated equally. Your eyes landed on the strap next to the bed and you nodded. "Nervous?"
"A bit."
"We've already practiced, you'll take to it just fine."
You stepped back, letting Sevika leave the bed. You could feel your heart racing, watching her put on the piece calmly, almost solemnly. How many times has she done the same thing with other women? How many times has she repeated this same ritual? Her past intrigued you as much as it made you sick with jealousy.
Sitting back on your heels, you clutched the fabric of your slip dress, suddenly believing yourself to be just as incapable as the first time. Your breathing became shallow, your muscles tensing as you waited for the typical pain you knew and hated, retreating down that path of shame. Until you felt a kiss on your shoulder.
"Don't go there, I know what you're thinking," Sevika whispered, settling behind you as she spread kisses across your exposed skin. Her hands played with the valleys of your hips and waist, you felt the caress of her breath on your nape.
"It will hurt."
"No, it won't." she insisted. "I won't let it hurt."
"Sev."
"Shh..." Sevika slipped her hands under your slip dress, tracing from your hips to your abdomen, inviting you to let go of your traitorous thoughts. She didn't like to see you hesitate, not when she'd seen you succeed before. Fear would get you nowhere, never. She carefully pulled the dress off, leaving you naked before an accusatory mirror in front of the bed. That mirror spared no one, it showed you what you wanted to see, and now you saw a woman too ashamed of herself for her own good, and behind you, a ruthless woman who seemed to have the world in the palm of her hand.
If only you could take from the world what Sevika claims without flinching.
You sighed, parting your legs once Sevika brought her fingers to your core and rubbed carefully. The cold metal of her other hand squeezed one of your breasts and you closed your eyes. You would like to give yourself into her arms and forget the sorrows of your flesh and your conscience for once, just once.
"Do you want to try from behind?"
"I'd like to see your face."
"Alright." she nodded, slowly turning you around, your back meeting the soft sheets underneath as Sevika gave you another kiss.
The strap-on extension wasn't too long, you felt the weight of the piece on your abdomen as Sevika kissed you, and you carefully tested the phallus with your hand. Sevika then brought it against your entrance and you flinched.
"Vika."
"Just grinding, doll, easy…" she whispered, rubbing the tip against you. "I've applied lub, it won't hurt."
And the truth was, you were soaking yourself.
You clung to her back nervously, hearing her pant against your ear as she applied pressure to your entrance, briefly, with no intention other than to soften your ill-used muscles. You had to breathe, you had to breathe, it's what you learned and it's what allowed you to take Sevika the last time you came on her fingers.
You counted to three, feeling the tip push through, you counted to fifteen and you had taken half of it, you counted to twenty-five and let out a whimper.
"Should I stop?"
"No." you begged. "Keep going."
Breath, breath, breath. Endure, learn to endure.
"Doll." whispered Sevika. "You're trembling."
"Just keep going." you insisted.
Be nice, endure.
And you closed your eyes as you felt the contact of her hips against yours, Sevika buried inside you completely. Only then did you allow yourself to cry.
"Hey, baby." she whispered, caressing your cheek. "No, not like that."
It was as soon as a couple of tears rolled down your cheeks that your muscles relaxed and you took her completely. You held on, just like you promised yourself. Sevika kissed your wet cheeks, moving her hips just a little, noticing how your lips parted and you gasped. "Does it hurt?"
"No." you whispered.
The truth is that you felt full, the pressure present but less and less invasive. Sevika began to move slowly, her hips brushing against yours, your walls adjusting to the phallus as you moaned subtly. It was a dynamic of breathing, questions and moans in response. Do you like it like this? Slower? You're doing so well, keep going like that, doll, I knew you would. And soon your hands wandered over her back, over her locks, over her chest, delighting in the extension of her skin, in her warmth, in her hardness. You were so present that your mind had fallen silent.
"Yes… please…" you gasped. "There, there."
"God, you're so pretty."
You felt like you owned something you thought was not yours, a pleasure that was rightfully yours but that you were afraid to claim. You thanked her for letting you have it back, for giving you back the ability to claim it.
"Thank you." You whispered once Sevika stopped to give you a break, cradling you against her chest and leaving a kiss on your temple. She was breaking down walls with you herself, which was both exciting and terrifying.
Sevika laid back on the bed, watching you straddle her lap with such confidence that she smiled. Her hand rested on your hip, you rose up on your knees as you guided the phallus to your entrance. But you stopped.
"Can I take it off?" you asked suddenly, and Sevika didn't know what you were talking about until you pointed at her arm.
"Why?" she asked.
"I've never seen you without it…"
The flicker of terror that crossed her gaze as you unbuckled the strap holding the base of the prosthesis took you by surprise for a moment. You never considered that Sevika's confidence depended so much on that piece, and allowing you to take it off was her way of telling you that she trusted you. And you felt honored.
"Just keep any comment to yourself." she grunted, as you slolwy disarmed the prosthesis.
Being vulnerable was one of Sevika's limits, until she found such affection and comfort in your gaze that she melted before you. You removed the arm, placing it on the table next to the bed, followed by the base and uncovering a stump that Sevika hid with her hand.
"Sev." you mumbled.
"Don't... don't touch it." she spat, her defenses went back up and you didn't argue with it.
"I won't." you stated, leaving a kiss on her cheek.
Sevika laid back down and you took her inside you again, letting out a sweet, controlled gasp. The sensation was different and unexplored, so you began to move your hips slowly. Sevika reached for one of your breasts, you looked at her with your lips parted and sucked between your teeth, taking it to place a kiss on her knuckles.
"You look good down there." you purred.
"You've discovered something tonight." she agreed.
Your breaths lengthened, your mouth no longer holding back moans, you wanted to be heard, by her, by everyone. You leaned in to kiss Sevika and continued, you felt in control and you loved it. By then the reflection in the mirror was not accusatory but revealing, you looked agitated, pleased, whole and present. Your reflection looked back at you.
"Fuck." you moaned as Sevika rubbed her thumb against your bud. "You always know when to touch me."
"Keep moving…" Sevika growled.
You nodded, your eyes focused on Sevika's gaze, on her dark lips, on the gap between her teeth, on her furrowed eyebrows and her blue scars. You wanted to cover her face with kisses. You pulled on her arm, making her sit up, capturing her lips in a panting kiss. You took it upon yourself to touch your clit, you cared more about having her close. "I feel so good." you confessed.
"I can see it." whispered Sevika between kisses.
"I love you." you blurted out, Not as a secret, but as a confession that you openly wanted her to hear. You didn't want to keep anything to yourself.
Sevika responded with a kiss, letting you ride out your orgasm which came out in whimper, falling onto her chest as your body surrendered to the torrent of oxytocin that flowed into you. Suddenly everything was silent, everything was okay, there was no evil in the world, just pure love, just Sevika, just you.
"My braid came undone," Sevika whispered after a long silence.
"I'll braid it again."
You looked at her with full eyes, Sevika seemed to be reading something in you that remained a mystery. Your eyes landed on her stump and she wanted to hide. "I've never seen you as naked as right now." you said, laying a kiss there.
And judging by the way Sevika's body relaxed, you knew she agreed with you.
-◊-
taglist: @bibi4exe @verseandchapterr
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gottencents · 1 day ago
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Fallin’ All In You - Giselle
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pairing. idol!giselle x girlfriend!reader
synopsis. giselle playfully takes on the role of makeup artist while sitting on Y/N’s lap, turning every brushstroke into an excuse for a kisses.
The soft hum of lo-fi music filled the cozy living room, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the scattered makeup on the coffee table. Brushes, palettes, and foundation bottles were spread out in a chaotic but intentional mess—courtesy of Giselle.
Y/N sat on the couch, leaned back comfortably, arms resting lazily on the cushions as Giselle settled herself on her lap. Her knees framed Y/N’s thighs, and her weight was perfectly balanced. She had a brush in one hand and a mischievous glint in her eye, which only meant trouble.
“Alright, sit still,” Giselle instructed, her voice light but authoritative. “I’m making you my masterpiece.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And by masterpiece, you mean clown, right?”
Giselle gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “How dare you? I’m an artist!” She leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart, her expression softening into a grin. “Besides, you’re already too pretty to mess up.”
Before Y/N could respond, Giselle pressed a soft kiss to her cheek—just a brief touch of her lips, but enough to make Y/N’s heart stumble.
“Is kissing part of the makeup process now?” Y/N teased, her hands naturally resting on Giselle’s waist to steady her.
Giselle pretended to think, swirling the foundation brush in her hand. “Hmm… It is now. It’s called the kiss-and-glam method. Super effective.”
Y/N chuckled, her eyes following Giselle’s every move as she dabbed foundation onto her face. She was meticulous yet playful, her concentration occasionally interrupted by her own desire to lean in and sneak another kiss.
“There,” Giselle said after applying a thin layer. She tilted her head to inspect her work, her fingertips grazing Y/N’s jawline. “Flawless.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “You barely did anything.”
Giselle grinned, grabbing a blush brush. “Patience, baby. Perfection takes time.” She lightly dusted Y/N’s cheeks with blush, leaning in close as she worked. Y/N could feel her breath against her skin, warm and comforting.
“Oops,” Giselle whispered, biting her lip as she lightly tapped the brush against Y/N’s nose. “Too much blush.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll have to kiss it better.”
Giselle didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, brushing her lips against the tip of Y/N’s nose in a soft kiss before pulling back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Better?”
“Much,” Y/N replied, her voice dropping slightly, a playful challenge in her tone.
Giselle moved on to the eyeshadow palette, choosing a soft shimmer. As she leaned in to apply it, her body shifted slightly on Y/N’s lap, sending a jolt of awareness through both of them. Y/N’s fingers tightened their grip on Giselle’s waist instinctively, and for a moment, the air between them felt thicker.
“You’re staring,” Giselle said without looking up, her voice teasing.
“Can you blame me?” Y/N shot back, her eyes lingering on Giselle’s lips. “You’re kind of hard to ignore when you’re sitting on me like this.”
Giselle paused, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. A slow smile spread across her face as she set the eyeshadow palette aside. “You’re distracting me, you know that?”
“I thought that was your job,” Y/N said, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Giselle’s waist.
Giselle leaned down, their faces barely an inch apart. “Maybe it is,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Y/N smirked, her eyes flicking to Giselle’s lips and back up. “I might kiss you until you forget what you were doing.”
“Tempting,” Giselle murmured, brushing her thumb along Y/N’s jawline. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”
Before Y/N could respond, Giselle leaned in and kissed her again—this time, slow and deliberate. Her lips were soft, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.
Y/N blinked, slightly dazed. “That’s not fair.”
Giselle giggled, resting her forehead against Y/N’s. “Life’s not fair. But I’ll make it up to you.”
Her lips found Y/N’s again, this time with more certainty. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands slid up Giselle’s back, holding her close. The rest of the world faded away—no music, no makeup brushes—just the warmth of Giselle’s body pressed against hers and the electric connection that seemed to hum between them.
When they finally pulled back for air, Giselle smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Forget the makeup,” she said breathlessly. “I think you look perfect just like this.”
Y/N grinned, her thumb gently brushing a stray strand of hair from Giselle’s face. “I told you, I was already pretty.”
“Yeah,” Giselle whispered, her eyes soft. “But you’re also mine.”
Y/N’s heart swelled at the words, pulling Giselle in for one more kiss—slow and sweet, a promise sealed in the warmth of their embrace.
The makeup could wait. This moment? It was too good to let go.
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kashverse · 1 day ago
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thinking of babykuna turning into a tween and starting to get into makeup so when kunamama finds her trying on her makeup she helps her and dolls her up. sukuna HATESSS it lol (hes sad his baby is more into makeup than labubus now 💔)
i'm not sure how old a tween is but this is based off of a true story in my household LOL
sukuna always knew this day would come. the day his sweet, precious baby girl would move on from her babyish little fake makeup kits to real makeup. he had prepared himself for it, accepted it as an inevitable part of growing up. he just didn’t expect it to happen at the goddamn age of nine.
when he peered into babykuna’s room that fateful afternoon, he expected to see her usual chaos—her army of labubus lined up on her desk, ready for world domination or whatever strange little plots she was cooking up. instead, he saw something far, far worse.
there she was. his baby girl, sitting at her desk, face serious with military-grade focus as she carefully dabbed colored lip balm on her lips. sukuna’s soul shattered. it wasn’t just any lip balm. no, no, no. the labubus were gone. gone. in their place sat a neatly arranged set of scented and colored lip balms, like some kind of beauty counter display—a full-on collection.
“what… the fuck.”
babykuna looked up at him, proud of herself. “papa! look! i got new lip balm!” she pointed at the lineup. “this one’s strawberry, this one’s blueberry, this one’s watermelon, this one’s peach, and this one’s—”
sukuna wasn’t listening. he was too busy having a spiritual crisis. his babygirl—his baby—was moving on from toys to beauty products. the labubus had been replaced. this was worse than death. “no,” sukuna muttered, shaking his head. “no, no, no, this isn’t happening.”
"papa?"
he turned to you, eyes wide, desperate, feral. “do something.” you blinked at him, unimpressed. “do what?”
"tell her to play with her labubus!"
you stared at him, then at babykuna, who was now puckering her lips at herself in the mirror, and then back at him. “you’re losing it.”
babykuna smacked her lips together, admiring the light pink tint she had just applied. “mama, do you have a lip liner?”
sukuna gasped so hard he choked on air.
"she knows what a LIP LINER is?!"
you sighed, placing a hand on his chest. “sukuna, calm down.”
“no. no, i will not calm down. she's nine.”
babykuna held up another lip balm. “this one’s cherry!” 
sukuna physically staggered backward like he’d been hit. you had to physically restrain your six-foot-something, terrifyingly strong husband from falling to his knees and begging his daughter to return to the simpler days of playing with stuffed monsters. "it’s just lip balm, sukuna," you deadpanned, trying to keep him upright as he clutched his chest in agony.
“‘just lip balm’ she says! you don’t get it, woman! this is how it starts! first, it’s lip balm, then it’s eyeliner, then it’s lipstick, then it’s—” he cut himself off, horror dawning in his eyes. “...boys.”
you pinched the bridge of your nose. “jesus christ.”
babykuna blinked. “huh?”
sukuna grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. “she's gonna start liking boys.”
"maybe she’ll like girls."
"that's even worse!"
babykuna, completely ignoring his dramatics, turned back to her mirror. “i think i need a lip gloss too…”
sukuna screamed.
a/n: sukuna saying “that's even worse” is not meant to sound homophobic, sorry if it comes off like that! he's just a bit paranoid of having to be protective of both sides :P
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minaharkerdailymirror · 21 hours ago
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"My mom wanted me to be a proper lady. She looked a lot like me. She had the dark hair but she had blue eyes. She wasn't always thrilled with my spirit but she never really tried to stamp it out either. HER side of the family was a bit scandalous but I'll tell you about that in a minute."
"My dad was German, he was gray early but he had brown eyes like mine. I was the only surviving child, he loved me with everything. You know how some victorian houses, the women are the home makers and the men were the breadwinners who weren't as active in the kids lives? it wasn't like that for us. He would take me to the parks on Sundays. He taught me about flowers and birds. He taught me to read. I remember....at night he would sit with me at bedtime and we'd read german and english depending on what book we were on. it didn't matter to him I wasn't a boy. I don't know much about his family. He was an orphan. My mom's family didn't like him much, they said it was because he was German and they wanted a nice British navy man to marry mum....but when she'd met him, they said it was love at first sight."
She booped his nose, "So it wouldn't have made a difference to him that you were from a different country, it wouldn't have made a difference your skin color was different. Papa never let anyone's skin color effect what he thought about them. It wouldn't have made a difference to him you had a hard life. All he would've cared about was that you made me happy and you wouldn't ever hurt me."
Mina watched Armand toy with her hair, watching it go straight and then bounce back. She let a small half smile cross her face and then snorted when he brushed her hair into her face to look like Cousin It from the Adams Family.
She still sensed when he rose up and was ready for the kiss, "I love you too."
She went to toy with his hair herself, feeling the perfect thick curls. some people had all the luck when it came to hair.
"I think my parents would've liked you," she said quietly.
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jinwoosbabyboo · 8 hours ago
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Sick & Tired
How I imagine the LADS Men take care of you when you're sick [requested by: depressed but well dressed anon]
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𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎
ready and willing to take care of you, but also is in his ‘I told you so’ era because he knew you’d end up getting sick
will do everything and anything you tell him
would let you lay on his shoulder or in his lap while you nap
even though he’s with you constantly to take care of you he somehow manages to not get sick
brings you medicine and a glass of water
cooks you homemade soup and will feed you if you let him
depending on how sick you are he would take time off from work to look after you
for my girlies who cry a little when they dont feel good he would wipe your tears for you “Don’t cry this sickness is only temporary”
if hes still working he’ll always try to be there until you fall asleep and rushes home to you
leaves soup in the fridge for you when he’s not there
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𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕
teases you for getting sick until he realizes youre sad “Aw cutie are you not feeling well?” “I hate it here” “Tell me what you need”
Doesn’t want to get sick so yes he’d bring you whatever you ask for but he’s wearing a mask and gloves ; avoids kisses “once you’re no longer contagious I'll give you a kiss”
doesn’t mind telling you stories or humming you songs to get you to sleep
would feed you, but be prepared to never hear the end of it “You’re just a sick girl who needs my help in your time of need I know I know my services are impeccable” “Can I have my tea now?”
mocks and teases you when you get fussy about anything “I can’t stand you” “Good thing you’re laying down then huh?”
gets sick anyway because his dumbass would eat off your spoon/fork or drink something of yours
you two end up sick in bed together and he’s even more whiny now
lots of cuddles and kisses now since he got himself sick
doom scrolls with you while laying in your lap
Thomas has to come and take care of the two of you
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𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛
I wouldn't be me if I didn’t say it ; PAGING NURSE XAVIER
he’s at your side in a split second
so excited to have free reign in your kitchen ; immediately tries to make you soup and burns the pot
blows the kitchen up in your house/apartment ends up having to take care of you at his place
finally orders you soup and medicine after you cried because you didn’t want his cooking
he sleeps when you sleep
constantly checking your temperature
doesn’t mind carrying you around the house he knows you can walk, but he likes having you draped over him
blows your nose for you ; puts the tissue to your nose “Blow.” “Thats what she said” “…..your snot is dripping please blow”
sore throat? he’s right there daily with a spoonful of honey “Here its good for you”
can easily handle you when you get fussy about taking medicine “That was quite the tantrum” as he shoves the medicine in your mouth
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𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜
already knew you were coming down with something he already has everything ready to go
picks you up and takes you to his place ;has his chef prepare home remedies tailored just for you
brings you everything himself ; you also have the twins at your disposal
sits bedside and encourages you to eat as much as you can “take two more bites and then you can go back to sleep”
still tries to kiss you even though you’re sick because he doesn’t give a damn “Sylus I'll get you sick stop” steals a kiss here and there anyway ; gets sick like two weeks later
wipes and blows your nose for you “You look like a sick kitten” “Shut it”
doesn’t care when you get fussy about taking medicine “Are you done? Good. Here.”
if you want to stay in bed all day thats fine ; if you want to cling to him like a Koala around the house thats fine too he’ll carry you
lets you sleep on him and steal his warmth
checks your breathing when you sleep longer than usual
leaves the twins to keep an eye on you if he needs to step out ; leaves Mephisto to watch you if he needs to take the twins with him
the type to give you a massage even if you’re not having body aches
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𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋
is already at your doorstep with groceries and medicine
keeps you close to him and in sight at all times
your personal chef truly ; he’s wrapping you in a blanket and laying you on the couch while he makes you something to eat
checks your temperature regularly ; gives you medicine like clockwork
spoon feeds you so you don’t have to lift a finger
reminds you that you don’t need to thank him ; he’ll always take care of you no matter what
cuddles you while you sleep after cleaning your place ; puts a humidifier in your room if you’re congested
tries to make you laugh so you’re not sad ; reminds you that he’ll always be there for you so no need to be sad
wipes and blows your nose for you “Your scrunched up face is adorable”
teases you if you ask for a massage if you’re having body aches ; of course he’s overjoyed to do it though “You know I'll give you a massage whenever you want”
says he won’t kiss you while your sick ; ends up kissing you out of habit and gets a little sick “Now it’s your turn to take care of me”
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imsofreakingtired · 2 days ago
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I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down
And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO
I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it
i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔
things i wanna say to you
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content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort
"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."
~~~
“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”
It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor. 
Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal? 
Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body. 
When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect. 
You stopped speaking after that. 
~~~
Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes. 
Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance. 
So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.” 
From that day on, you were hers. 
~~~
The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building. 
The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.
Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”
She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly. 
She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this? 
But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you. 
You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you. 
Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt. 
Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”
You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”
She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”
Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared. 
~~~
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jiminomenon · 3 days ago
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what is jimin’s reaction to assistant yn threatening to quit?
from my series: the devil wears prada
the penthouse was silent—eerily so, considering the shouting match that had just taken place. the air between them was thick, charged with lingering frustration and unspoken words. jimin stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, expression locked in a stubborn scowl. y/n was a few feet away, breathing heavily, fists clenched at her sides.
neither of them had meant for it to escalate like this. it started with something minor—an argument over jimin’s impossible demands, her bratty attitude, the way she acted like y/n was hers to boss around twenty-four-seven. but then, words were thrown like knives, sharp and cutting.
and then y/n snapped.
“maybe i should just quit, then!”
the words ripped through the space between them. jimin stiffened instantly, her brows drawing together.
“what?” her voice was dangerously quiet.
y/n exhaled sharply, still fueled by frustration. “if you’re just gonna keep treating me like this, maybe i should just leave, huh? find another job where i’m actually respected.”
jimin scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “you wouldn’t dare.”
“why not?” y/n challenged, eyes blazing. “give me one good reason why i shouldn’t.”
jimin opened her mouth, but for once in her life, she had no comeback. no smug remarks, no bratty retorts. because the idea of y/n actually leaving—actually walking away—felt like a punch to the gut.
her jaw tightened. “you’re being dramatic.”
y/n let out a bitter laugh. “of course you’d say that.”
jimin hated this. hated the way y/n looked at her right now—like she was tired of her, like she was done.
“you’re not quitting,” jimin said firmly, like it was a fact, like she refused to acknowledge the possibility.
“and why not?”
“because—” jimin’s voice faltered. she wanted to say because i need you—because she couldn’t imagine her life without y/n constantly by her side, keeping her in check, understanding her in ways no one else did.
but that wasn’t how she worked. she didn’t admit things like that. she didn’t let people know how much they mattered.
“because i said so,” she settled on instead.
y/n’s expression darkened. “you don’t own me, jimin.”
“i never said i did.”
“but you act like it!���
the silence that followed was suffocating.
jimin hated the thought of y/n leaving, but she also hated feeling like this—out of control, vulnerable, on the verge of losing something she refused to name.
so she did what she did best.
she walked away.
but before she could fully disappear into her bedroom, y/n’s voice cut through the air.
“you don’t even care, do you?”
jimin froze.
“if i left, it wouldn’t even matter to you, right?” y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still laced with hurt. “you’d just find someone else to boss around.”
something snapped inside jimin. she turned around, storming back toward y/n, eyes burning with something unreadable.
“it would matter,” she said, voice low. “it would matter a lot.”
y/n blinked.
jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, frustrated—at y/n, at herself, at the entire situation.
“you think i don’t care?” jimin continued, tone softer now but still firm. “you think i’d just let you go that easily?”
y/n didn’t respond.
jimin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i’m sorry, alright?”
y/n’s brows shot up. “what?”
jimin groaned. “don’t make me say it again.”
y/n stared at her, searching for any sign of insincerity—but, for once, jimin actually meant it.
a small smirk tugged at y/n’s lips. “wow. never thought i’d hear those words come out of your mouth.”
jimin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “don’t get used to it.”
y/n chuckled, shaking her head. her frustration wasn’t completely gone, but… jimin had apologized. and for someone as stubborn as her, that was a huge deal.
“you’re impossible,” y/n muttered.
jimin smirked. “and yet, here you are. still not quitting.”
y/n sighed dramatically. “unfortunately.”
but there was a warmth in her eyes now, and jimin—though she’d never say it out loud—felt like she could finally breathe again.
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littelovelunette · 1 day ago
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Sevika with reader who like talks back too much or maybe wears a dress she told you not to cause it’s too showy so she drags them home and bends her over her knee cane makes the reader count them 💕💕😩 (I let ovulation day me write this my bad)
I get you baby I get you I feel like I'm ovulating 24/7 haha that's why I'm writing so much smut, check out the pinned post and touch yourself mwah thank me later
Red Handprints
Content warning: Mild smut (?), spanking, brat tamer Sevika
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Today morning when you finished shower and was picking out some clothes to wear, you started holding up all your cute little dainty dresses to see which one seemed better for the day. But just as you held up a mini dress, Sevika let out a quiet, "Nuh-uh."
She grabbed the hanger of the dress, taking it out of your hands and putting it back into the closet. "You wanna get harassed by goons or something?" She raised a brow, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette before she exhaled it through her nose. "Just looking out for ya'."
"Thanks, but I'm not a kid," you retorted with a fuckass grin and that made Sevika's jaw tighten, you could see the veins of her neck rise a little but she bit back her mean words, swallowing down her anger.
"Don't let me catch you wearing that. You might as well go outside naked," Sevika rolled her eyes mumbling as she walked out, probably for work.
She didn't appreciate you mouthing her off so she didn't bother even saying a simple goodbye.
You smirked a little, "Mission accomplished," you hummed to yourself and giggled before you walked back to the closet, taking the small dress out anyway.
You'd wear it, not just to show off your curves but to ruffle Sevika's feather. And you'd make sure you go into Last Drop so you don't show off too much or seem disloyal, just messing with her a bit.
The bar was a little crowded as you walked inside, you could see her playing poker with the other henchmen.
Her eyes immediately locked onto yours as she gave you a once over, her lips pursing in disappointment.
She got up, throwing some cash onto the table and walked upto you, grabbing your neck, "What do you think you're doing?" Sevika whisper-yelled at you, the scene rof tobacco and alcohol filling your nostrils.
"What?" You feigned innocence.
Sevika, not wanting to cause a scene, picked you up, wrapping you with her poncho, "You're basically in a bikini," she whispered again, as she led you out of the bar.
"Geez, okay, mother," you replied in a taunting tone which Sevika didn't take lightly.
"Apologise," she said, her voice had a final tone but you held your tongue this time before an idea sparked in your brain.
"Make me!" You said, knowing she'd fuck some sense into you.
Well, that's how you ended up over her lap, crying. Sevika smacked a big hand over your ass again.
"I'm starting over. You messed up your counting," Sevika said, pausing before smacking your ass again.
You howled in pain, burying your face in the sheets, red ass perched up by a pillow over her lap, "O-one..."
Sevika slapped your ass again, the smack echoing in your shared bedroom, "Two.."
Sevika continued spanking your ass, each slap harder than the other and she didn't seem like she'd stop anytime soon, not even when you were gasping for air, sobbing loudly.
She seemed to enjoy it, even taunting you through it. Sevika's hand came down in a harsh slap again, "T-t-... Twenty," you croaked and she positioned you on the bed, ass hovering in the air.
"Stay like that, reflect," She walked off to sit down at the edge of the bed as she watched your red ass pushed up, head in the pillows as you cried in pain quietly.
Seviak took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a good inhale, "Think next time before you decide to be a brat."
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prettyfilmz · 1 day ago
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SWEET LIKE CANDY 2 • JEY USO
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author's note: happy valentines' day my beautiful angels💌 I hope you are having an amazing day, whether you have a special someone or not, I love each and every single one of you🥰 part two of SLC is hot and fresh for y'all, just like part one it'll be short n' sweet but with a little bit of heat this time as promised😌 I hope you enjoy and happy reading💗!
synopsis: in which a celebration at the strip club leads to the beginning of a love affair between a wrestler and a dancer.
pairing: jey uso x black fem!oc (cherise aka candy)
tags: 18+ (MDNI), time-lapse, slow burn, lap dances, flirty banter, teasing, kissing, touches, dirty talk, pussy eating, fingering, jey is a certified munch™, daddy kink, pet names (pretty girl, mama, baby, babygirl), these mfs don't even know they're in love already (well jey does but cherise? poor baby needs a little help).
word count: 2.6k words
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read part one here!
soundtrack playlist
3 months later…
Nursing school wasn’t a walk in the park.
Cherise sat at a cramped desk in the back corner of the library, eyes flickering between the highlighted notes in her textbook, a whiteboard full of her scribbled thoughts, and the lukewarm iced caramel latte beside her. Her braids were up in a bun, her glasses perched low on her nose, her purple scrubs wrinkled against her frame.
Nothing about her in this moment screamed Candy.
No stilettos. No glittering lingerie. No sultry confidence.
Just Cherise.
Quiet, focused, tired as hell.
Balancing school and dancing wasn’t easy, but it paid the bills. The club gave her freedom—let her work when she wanted, let her make rent in a single night sometimes and maybe give her a boost a confidence. It wasn’t forever, but for now? It worked like a charm.
Still, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to only be Cherise.
No stage names. No personas. No men sexualizing her with grabby hands and ravenous looks in their eyes.
No thoughts about a certain wrestler who disappeared on her for months. She hated that she even thought about him. It wasn’t like she expected him to chase her, but still…That night had lingered.
The way he touched her. The way he talked to her, teased her, made her feel like he actually saw her as a human. He was smooth, but it never felt like a pick-up line with him.
And then…nothing.
Not a single glimpse of him at the club since.
She wasn’t pressed, though. She had other things to worry about. Like passing her damn pharmacology exam. Cherise sighed, rubbing her temple. She needed a break.
And a drink.
Which meant…
Back to the club.
Cherise had been backstage, touching up her lip gloss, her hair, and fixing her outfit, when Trinity had strutted up to her with a knowing smirk.
"You got a visitor, sweets.”
"Huh?" Cherise barely glanced up, adjusting the strap of her tiny lace bra. "Who?"
"That fine-ass Samoan you was tryna act like you ain’t been thinkin’ about."
Cherise froze.
Her stomach flipped. Her heart kicked up a notch.
"Shut up."
"I ain’t lyin’." Trinity leaned in, whispering.  "Jey is in VIP right now, waitin’ on you girl. Cherise felt heat creep up her neck. She cleared her throat, straightened her posture, forced her face into Candy’s confident smirk.  "That man ain’t nothin’ special."
Trinity laughed.  "Girl, if you don’t take yo’ ass out there so I can get Jim all to myself…”
So she did.
And when she pushed open that VIP door? He was right there, sitting back on the couch like he owned the place.
Clad in a blue Nike fleece tracksuit. Thick thighs spread wide.  He had a gold grill peeking out when he grinned, one hand resting lazily on his knee, the other draped over the couch.
Looking good as hell.
Like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
"Damn, ma… took you long enough." His voice was slow, teasing.
"Didn’t know you still remembered me." She smirked, sauntering closer, deliberately dragging her nails down his chest as she straddled him. "Been a minute, Joshua."
Jey exhaled a quiet laugh, hands settling right on her hips.  “You miss me, baby?"
"Mmm." She rolled her hips just enough to make him suck in a breath.  "I shouldn’t… but maybe a little."
"That’s cute." His hands slid lower, squeezing the curve of her ass.  "Been busy, mama. Mania comin’ up. You know how it is."
"Do I?" She arched a brow. "I wouldn’t know, since somebody ain’t keep in touch."
"Damn…" Jey chuckled, gripping her tighter. "That what we doin’?  You tryna guilt trip me ‘cause I got a job?"
"I’m just sayin’." She traced the chain around his neck, lips barely brushing his jaw. "I give a man my name and he vanish on me.  Kinda rude, don’t you think?"
"Nah, see it ain’t even like that…” His grip flexed on her hips, voice dipping lower.  "I was tryna be respectful, baby girl."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." He smirked, leaning in.  "’Cause the way I wanted you last time? I’d have fucked you silly if we weren’t on a time limit." Cherise shivered, heat flooding her stomach.
Jey felt it too, the way her thighs twitched in his lap.
"Mmm…" He licked his lips, voice thick with heat.  "See that, baby?  You tryna act all tough, but you feel me talkin’ to you, huh?"
"Shut up." She should have more control over this, more restraint, but Jey was dangerous. He could see through her entire ‘Candy’ act like cellophane. He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. "Why? ‘Cause you know I’m right?" Her breath hitched. Jey groaned, voice gravelly. "I’on like unfinished business, baby girl. You left me high and dry last time."
"Maybe I like making you work for it."
"Yeah?" His fingers trailed between her thighs, barely grazing the heat of her pussy.  "Then lemme clock in, mama." Cherise gasped, hips jerking. "Jey-”
"Shhh." He kissed her, slow and deep, groaning into her mouth as he slid his hand into her panties. "Mmm, baby…" His fingers brushed against her slick folds, teasing, just barely pressing inside. "You feel so good, damn."
She whimpered, biting her lip.  "Jey-”
"Nah, I got you, mama."* He sucked at her throat, voice husky.  “I’m gon’ take real good care of you."
Something about the way he said that sentence made her almost want to melt away all of her resolve and let him take complete control over her.
Almost.
A shudder rolled through her. Jey noticed.
“Aww.” His grin was wicked.  “Is that what you need baby?”
Cherise’s breath hitched.  “Just…shut up and do something..”
"Oh, I’ma do more than that."
His fingers found her clit, swollen and throbbing, rubbing the nub in slow circles. Cherise gasped, hips jerking into his touch, her body betraying her even though she wanted to play this game a little longer.
"Shit…" He licked his lips, his free hand gripping her thigh, spreading her wider over his lap.  "You been sittin’ here actin’ like I ain't been on your mind, but this lil’ pussy tellin’ me somethin’ different, mama."
Cherise bit back a whimper, glaring down at him.  "You talk too much."
"And you still soakin’ my hand.” His fingers slid through her slick folds, slow, teasing, barely applying any pressure where she needed it.  "Mmm, damn, baby… I missed this."
"You ain’t even had it yet, Jey."
"Not yet." His grin was pure sin, eyes locked on her face as he dipped one thick finger inside her, slowly.  "But I’ma take my time wit’ you.”
Cherise’s head tipped back, a quiet moan slipping past her lips. Jey felt the way she clenched around him, her hips subtly rolling to meet the slow pump of his hand. "That’s it, baby girl…" His voice was dark, husky, dragging his finger out almost all the way before pressing another one inside.  "Let Daddy feel you."
A full-body shudder rolled through her.
Jey smirked. "Oh, you like that, huh?" Cherise bit her lip, cheeks heating, but she wasn’t about to admit anything.
"Mmm." Jey kissed her throat, tongue flicking out to taste her skin as his fingers curled, pressing just right against her g-spot. "Don’t gotta say it, pretty girl.  Your body already tellin’ me everything I need to know."
"Fuck…" Cherise whimpered, fingers curling into his hoodie as pleasure spiked through her. "Mmm, that’s what I like to hear, mama." Jey’s pace picked up, his fingers thrusting deeper, rougher, messier. "You hear that?" He groaned, grinding his palm against her clit. "Listen to this lil’ pussy, drippin’ all over my hand, damn…"
Cherise could hear it—lewd, sticky, wet sounds echoing in the dimly lit room.
Her breath hitched, hips bucking against his touch. "Jey-“
"Nah, baby, we ain’t done yet." His hand suddenly disappeared from her panties, making her whine at the loss.
Jey grabbed her by the waist and flipped her, laying her back on the couch, his body looming over her, heat radiating from him like a furnace. "Been waitin’ too long for this, mama…" He licked his lips, gaze locked right between her thighs as he spread them apart. "Lemme taste you, baby."
Before she could protest—not that she even wanted to—Jey lowered himself, dragging her panties down to her ankles with his fingers. "Ohhh, fuck…" His voice dropped an octave, eyes dark with pure hunger.  "Goddamn, baby… look at you."
Cherise squirmed under his stare, trying not to let it affect her. "You gon’ eat or just sit there and admire?" Jey chuckled, but his grip on her thighs tightened.  "Nah, I gotta take a second, baby… You just got a pretty fuckin’ pussy baby… shit, I knew you would." She whimpered, clenching at his words.
Jey could sense it.
"Awww, baby…" He grinned, pressing his lips against her inner thigh.  "She likes when I talk to her, huh?” Cherise’s face burned, but before she could throw out a smart remark, Jey’s tongue pressed against her clit.
"Ohhh fuck!” Her hips jerked, but Jey held her down, hands locked around her thighs as he devoured her. "Mmm, there we go…" he moaned into her, lips wrapping around her swollen clit, sucking slow, deep, dirty.  "Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby… goddamn…"
Cherise’s fingers flew to his short curls, gripping tight as he worked her with his tongue.  "Jey… oh my God-“
"Mmm-hmm…" Jey hummed against her, sending vibrations straight to her core. "You like that, baby? Feel good?"
"Y-yeah—fuck—" She gasped, thighs trembling.
Jey smirked against her, dipping lower, tongue dragging through her folds, fucking her with slow, teasing licks. "Mmm, yeah… gon' fuck around and give me a sweet tooth, mama."
Cherise let out a shaky moan, back arching as he flattened his tongue against her again, again, sucking, licking, tasting like he was starving.
"You close, baby girl?" Jey murmured, voice dripping with sin as he slid two fingers back inside her, curling them just right.  "C’mon, mama… make a mess on my tongue."
"Jey—fuck, I’m cumming—ohhhh!" Her body snapped, pleasure ripping through her as her orgasm rushed over her like a tidal wave. Jey groaned, keeping his tongue and fingers right where she needed them, working her through every aftershock, swallowing every drop of her arousal.
"Mmm, good girl…" His voice was pure gravel, lips shiny with her slick as he finally pulled back, dragging his tongue over his lips like he wanted to savor the taste.  "Damn, I love this lil’ pussy, baby… look at her, still twitchin’ for me…"
Cherise could barely move.
Her legs shook, body weak, head spinning.
Jey grinned, leaning down, kissing her slow, deep, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "See what you been missin’, mama?" She hummed against his lips, still floating. "Mmm… maybe you should remind me again…"
Jey chuckled, nipping at her bottom lip.  "You bad, girl…"
A sudden knock on the door made them both freeze.
"Time’s up, Candy!”
Jey let out a frustrated groan, resting his forehead against hers.  "Man… fuck."
Cherise giggled breathlessly, brushing her fingers down his jaw.  "Guess that’s my cue.”
The knock on the door lingered in the room like an unwelcome intruder. Cherise sighed, pushing her trembling thighs together, body still buzzing from the way Jey had just worked her like he owned her.
This man is dangerous.
Jey sat back on the couch, one arm slung across the top, legs still spread like he had all the time in the world.  His smirk was lazy, smug, and damn near irresistible.
"Time’s up, huh?" He licked his lips, his hand sliding down his face as he looked her over. "They ain’t even let me finish makin’ you mine, mama."
"Please." Cherise rolled her eyes, smoothing her hands over her thighs before standing on slightly shaky legs. "I think you finished plenty, Joshua."
The way she said his name had him sitting up straighter, that cocky grin softening into something warmer.  "Damn, you really like callin’ me that huh?”
"What else would I call you?" she teased, bending slightly to grab her panties and pull them back up to her hips.
His gaze didn’t miss a thing, the soft, teasing shift of her voice, the way her hands moved over her body.
"I could think of a few things." His tone was low, playful, with just enough edge to let her know he wasn’t entirely joking.  "Daddy would sound real good comin’ from your mouth."
Cherise’s lips parted, blood rushing to her ears, but she only shook her head and smirked as she reached for his hand.  "You gon’ keep playin’, or you gon’ let me write this number down before I change my mind?"
"Go on, then." He handed her a pen, his gaze steady as she took his hand, her nails lightly grazing his palm as she began writing. "I don’t usually do this," she murmured, her voice quieter now, softer than her Candy facade. "You better not make me regret it."
Jey tilted his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "Mama, you really think I’d fumble somethin’ like this?"
"Mmm, I guess we’ll see." She capped the pen, slipping it back to him, but didn’t pull her hand away just yet.  Her fingers lingered against his for a moment longer, and when she looked up, Jey was staring at her like she was his whole world.
"Get home safe," she said softly, her voice more Cherise than Candy now.
"You too, pretty girl."* He gave her a smile, the kind that wasn’t cocky but genuine, the kind that made her stomach flip.  "Don’t be actin’ shy when I hit your line, though."
She laughed quietly, adjusting her skimpy outfit.  "I’ll think about it."
And with that, she slipped out the door, leaving him alone in the quiet heat of the VIP room.
The apartment was quiet, the faint hum of the city drifting in through the cracked window.  Cherise lays in bed, tangled in her cozy blankets, her body still sore, her mind still replaying the night in vivid detail.
She didn’t even know why she’d given him her number. It completely out of character for her. She didn’t do things like this—getting caught up with clients, letting them get under her skin.
But Jey…
Joshua.
Something about him felt different.
Her phone vibrated on the pillow beside her, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the darkness.
Her heart skipped.
She reached for it, thumb swiping over the screen, and there it was.
Unknown number: You still up, baby girl?
She smiled, biting her lip as she stared at the text for a moment.  Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard before she typed back.
Cherise: Maybe. Why? 👀
The three little dots appeared immediately.
Jey: ’Cause I’m thinkin’ bout you. 😘
Her stomach flipped.
Cherise: Oh really?
Jey: Hell yeah. Shit, I can still taste you on my lips, baby girl. 👅
Her cheeks burned, her thighs pressing together at the memory.
Cherise: You’re ridiculous🙄
Jey: Nah, I’m serious. Been waitin’ three months to see you again, and now all I can think about is how bad I wanna see you outta that club.
Cherise blinked, rereading the text twice, her breath catching in her throat.
He wanted to see her again?  Outside the club?
Cherise: I don’t know if that’s a good idea…
The reply came almost instantly.
Jey: Why not? You scared I’ma make you fall in love wit’ me?😏
She rolled her eyes at the screen, but her heart was beating a little too fast.
Cherise: Boy, goodnight. 
Jey: Goodnight, pretty girl.  Sweet dreams. ♥️
She set the phone down beside her, staring at the ceiling with a quiet smile on her lips.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
But damn, it felt good.
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