#reader working in conflict of not wanting a bad situation for he daughter but also being hell bent on ruining this family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatbadadvice · 1 year

Note

Dear Bad Advisor,

thank you for taking my query into consideration! I'll also take good advice, if you think my predicament is worthy of it. I guess I'll see what you decide on.

Here's my situation:

When we met my husband's family over Christmas, we talked about the upcoming birthday weekend for my kid, near the end of January. Since it was already planned that my husband's mother and sister would spend two days with my kid at the beginning of February, I asked if they were okay with just celebrating my kid's birthday then, since the birthday weekend itself was already very packed. When I say packed, I mean that we had a lot of children over on Saturday and a few of the grandparents on Sunday. They agreed because my kid is only three and they said they understand that it would be overwhelming if too much was going on at the same time.

About a week before the birthday weekend, the fact that my husband's mother had made quite a few comments about wanting to spend "birthday time" with my kid made me reconsider and I invited her for the Sunday of the birthday weekend. She accepted, but immediately switched to commenting that it would probably all be a bit much for my kid. I told her she didn't have to come if she was worried about that. She was offended I suggested that.

Then after the birthday weekend, she commented that her daughter (my sister-in-law) would have wanted to celebrate with my kid too. I said she still could, at the beginning if February, like we originally planned. My husband's aunt commented the same thing to me. My sister-in-law hasn't contacted me for weeks, which is unusual for her. I'm worried she's really upset with me and I didn't notice.

I told my husband's mother and aunt that I feel like I'm made out to be the bad guy no matter what I do. First I invite too many people, then not enough.

They said I should have planned a party with all of them in the first place. I said they should have told me that's what they want when we first talked about it in December. Then we could have talked about it. But I planned a birthday party for all the kids, which was what my kid really wanted, and I tried to make time for all the grandparents and aunts and uncles when it was sensible.

Somehow, even though my kid had a wonderful birthday she still tells everyone about every day, I feel really guilty and sad. Is there a way for me to keep everyone happy? It doesn't feel like it, and I really don't know if I should even try.

Readers sometimes send Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them. If you’d like to submit a question for a Good Advice Interlude, use the “ask” form!

The advice I’m going to offer here is predicated on one very important piece of information, which I don’t have: Whether or not your husband is literally capable of communicating with his family.

Is your husband literally capable of communicating with his family? I don’t mean “he’s very important/busy at work” or "he's training for the Iron Man" or “they have a complicated history” or “he’s on Mars and has limited access to email” or "he must protect the nuclear codes from the bad guys who are chasing him down La Cienega as we speak," which are all circumstances in which your husband remains fully capable of communicating with his family and planning for and around any communication challenges. I mean is he literally capable? If so, that’s his job now.

If your husband’s relatives don’t get certain information or invitations or cards or edible arrangements from your husband because he’s busy or forgot or has ADHD or is stressed out or depressed or fell asleep or went on a long hike without his phone, then they don’t get whatever that was, and it’s his fault and his responsibility to correct. If there’s beef, your husband can: (1) resolve the conflict with his relatives. If that doesn’t work, or he doesn’t want to, or he’d rather you do it, he can (2) not resolve the conflict with his relatives. If your husband's relatives harass you because he's not sending them information they need or not resolving conflict with them or not responding to their complaints, you can tell them "You’ll have to talk to Dale about that!" until they come up with something to talk to you about besides demanding you carry 100% of the Family Togetherness And Emotional Wellbeing Load. Imagine how many wonderful things there are on earth to discuss besides haranguing you about a 3-year-old's birthday plans! I bet your husband’s relatives can find one fast when you become a no-reply inbox that issues mailer-daemon errors every time they start up with complaints about how y'all manage your life and your family.

If Dale (sorry, your husband's name is Dale now) won't be the first point of contact for his own family, then that is tough tittums for his family. The current arrangement is undoubtedly already and always tough tittums for you – why is that okay? – so what do you have to lose? Why is it fine for you to be the one person carrying sole responsibility not only for planning a 3-year-old's birthday party (in which you gave these people FLEXIBLE ATTENDANCE OPTIONS APLENTY) but for managing the pissy feelings of a bunch of pissy grown-ass adults who can articulate their own pissy needs, drive their own pissy cars, buy their own pissy Metrocards, hire their own pissy taxis, prepare their own pissy food, put on their own pissy shoes, and can — most importantly — show up when and where they are invited, or not, and not be pissy about it!!!! Sure, it’s “just” your kid's birthday party today, but it's also the next, what thirty or forty or fifty years of your life? Of being the Official Cruise Director And Liaison of All Things Fambly But Also The Help Who Gets Hollered At When The Napkins Are Not Ironed To Lady Grantham's Liking? Man, fuck that!

So, okay. On the off chance your husband is not literally capable of communicating with his family (he is dead? I feel like you would have said that, but anything’s possible), then you’re going to have to do this next part instead. Actually, you should do this next part even if Dale does turn out to be sentient and graciously agrees to field pissy texts from his pissy sister because he’s the greatest man alive and does incredible favors for people that go above and beyond the typical realm of human generosity and goodness, such as talking to his own mother about his own child’s birthday party.

You’re gonna figure out exactly how much other-adults-feelings-management you’re comfortable doing, and then do about a quarter of that amount. Ideally even less. Let’s talk about some of what you wrote:

“... my husband's mother had made quite a few comments about wanting to spend ‘birthday time’ with my kid made me reconsider and I invited her …”

She can ask for ‘birthday time’ using her words if that’s what she wants. You don’t have to guess what she wants and offer it to her.

“I'm worried she's really upset with me and I didn't notice.”

Y’all speak the same language? Have access to Google Translate if you don’t? You are never obligated to guess what someone else’s emotional state is. It is not your fault you are not psychic. It actually wouldn’t be your fault even if you were psychic.

“Is there a way for me to keep everyone happy?”

You don’t ask “Is there a way to make everyone here happy?” which would be the query of a person looking to resolve situational conflict with equal partners. You’re asking whether there’s a way for you to keep everyone happy, which is the query of someone who believes they are uniquely responsible for and tasked with maintaining other people’s emotional wellbeing not just now but indefinitely.

What if any of the other grown-ass adults involved in this situation – your mother-in-law, your sister-in-law, fucking Dale – did even a fraction of the amount of planning, anticipation, and accommodating that you’re doing for them and their needs and their wants and their schedules? Well, you wouldn’t be writing in in the first place, I guess. But listen to what you’re saying here, and look at how much work it is! You’re anticipating the needs of people who haven’t even told you they want something yet! You’re presuming that it is your responsibility to read the mind of someone who is perfectly capable of telling you if she is upset with you! You are wondering how to make all of the adults here happy and literally none of those adults are asking what makes you happy. (Any chance Dale has said he doesn’t care how his relatives feel about y’all’s kid’s birthday party? Any chance you’re caring on his behalf? Free yourself from this!!!!!!! You cannot fix other people’s relationships by caring more about their weird interpersonal shit than they do.)

Here’s the last thing that really stuck out to me, and I hope you don’t take it as me razzing you because I emphatically am not. You wrote:

“… even though my kid had a wonderful birthday she still tells everyone about every day, I feel really guilty and sad.”

Do you see that you made the most important person happy? Do you see that you, a caring and thoughtful and empathetic and motivated and capable parent did the most important thing? You gave your kid a birthday she is still fucking telling people about because it was that great! Fuck whether your mother-in-law had a good time in the general vicinity of your kid’s birthday! If there are smaller fish to fry on planet earth, I don’t know where they live.

But it is a big fucking deal that you feel safe and confident and are able to do the kind of parenting you want and need to do without diverting all of this energy to small-ass fish fries (frys?). When your kid grows up, she will remember the great birthdays. She will remember parents who advocated for her and taught her important lessons and supported her. The person she will become depends on all of those things. It will not depend on how your husband’s aunt feels about a child’s third birthday party.

So: whether or not you can count on your husband to do a thing he should already be doing as the bare fucking minimum in a partnership, you have to figure out a way to get yourself to a way, way lower baseline of fucks given about whether other people like you or are happy with you. That doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk to them, but you don’t have to accommodate and anticipate and assuage them as your default setting.

Easier motherfucking said than motherfucking done, I know. I’m sure you know therapy exists, but uh … do recommend. Other options: have you read Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents? This book changed my life. Us people-pleasers learned it from somewhere. Even if you think “Nah, couldn’t be me,” the tools the book offers for navigating relationships with emotionally immature adults (i.e., a great-aunt-in-law who expects you to make her feel good about her invitation to a child’s third birthday party?) are well worth it.

Here’s what else helped me: make rules and pretend like someone else made them and there’s nothing you can do about it. Call them “traditions” if you want, maybe that plays better with Great Auntie Pisspants. From now on, your kid has one birthday party with her friends and one birthday party with family members. No, you can’t change that just because Great Auntie Pisspants asked you to; it’s a “tradition.” When people complain about your rules-slash-family traditions, instead of the endless smorgasbord of options you are not just willing to consider but actively and preemptively offering in case it’s more convenient for everybody, it starts to get a lot less personal. “I don’t make the rules!” you can say to yourself, even though you 1000000% made the rules and you are the captain now, so Great Auntie Pisspants is going to have to choose between BINGO or your kid’s birthday because you’re not throwing nine birthday parties.

I’m guessing that family shit is not the only place your inclination toward making other people happy at your own expense causes you grief. Good news: you can make rules/traditions about all kinds of nonsense. Here are some I’ve had over the years: I “can’t” give people rides; I “can’t” bake; I “can’t” watch Woody Allen movies. I “always” have my phone on do-not-disturb on weekends; I “always” spend at least one winter holiday at home; I “always” avoid highways at rush hour. I don’t know who made the rules (God?) but I can’t break them (I am God, I do what I want, and I don’t want to break my own rules).

You are responsible only for the emotional health and wellbeing of yourself and your child. You and your kiddo are the two people who matter most. You cannot keep everyone else happy, and you should not try.

#good advice interlude #family shit #parenting #in-laws #people pleasing #emotionally immature adults #fucking dale

242 notes · View notes

deblklesb · 1 year

Text

[Angel of the small death — Sevika × Reader OneShot]

[ballet dancer reader, bodyguard Sevika, smut (MDNI)]

Summary: Being Silco's daughter it's not some simple thing, especially thinking about the necessity of being guarded at all times. When a conflict starts, Sevika, his best employee, becomes your main bodyguard. It turns out things escalate a little bit until you bout break the tension.

a/n: boy oh boy this is BIG and it took me more time than i expected. this was an anonymous request so i can't tag the person who did it, but i enjoyed writing this, thanks sm! I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it, anon! 💗✨

cw: some violence (a loose member), blood, smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, fingering)

not proof read | 5.2k words

[reblogs are highly appreciated!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living is such a weird concept; that's all you can think about as you look through the songs on your playlists, laying on the bed. Nothing seemed to draw your attention, the assignment of your last class in mind created an urge to find the answers to your inspiration. It was a good thing, exactly what you needed now, and you couldn't let it slip through your fingers.

The plan was to show your teacher how capable you really were. Composition wasn't an easy thing, and even though you loved that subject the song was a major part to determine your next steps on that project. So you were searching restlessly, seeking for that high only an insight could provide, as fast as you could.

You had to interrupt your plans, though, when the screen of your phone showed an incoming call.

"Hi, dad", the other side of the line was weirdly messy, he usually tried to get a quiet place before calling you.

"You need to go to my office. I see you there in ten minutes"

"Is everything okay?" You sat on the bed. His tone wasn't usual either.

"I'll explain later. Now go."

When Silco tells you to go, you go.

The fact was that you didn't like your dad's work. All the illegal shit surrounded the places since you could remember, even if he tried hard to cover it in front of a kid. The whispers and smiles, usually opportunistics but also nervous, the feeling of being treated like a rare piece, the fear exhaling from people who knew what was happening but couldn't tell. You saw how everyone feared the slender, incisive man.

For quite some time you thought you should fear him too. But, for better or worse, he was a different person when he was with you. And as you grew old, he started to explain the situations and dynamics to you, teach you things, show what you could have. In your late twenty's now, you could use a gun and threaten people using an infinite amount of goons, but you definitely rather not.

Another thing he did was give you whatever you wanted. And some would say that wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't all that bad either. I mean, come on; he would let you go to the water park and in exchange you wouldn't miss behave, it was actually a very fair agreement. So he let you play with puppies when you were young, go out with your friends when you were a teenager and, most importantly, he'd encourage you to be a professional ballet dancer.

Thinking about his honesty and open conversations, you entered the crowded building right before David, your bodyguard, ignoring the loud music, usual from a never ending night at The Last Drop. Since that was a common scenario for you, stopping to look around and enjoy the mood wasn't necessary. Your father's tone on that call was enough to make you walk upstairs, directly towards his office at the end of the hallway.

Aside from what you feared, the scene in front of you was actually kinda unsettling. For sure he was a man that started to tell you stuff while you grew up, but a bloody finger on top of the table was new - it wasn’t attached to a body. Red stains on the wood were shining under the lights, contrasting too much with the green bathing the room due to the big glass window behind his desk. The finger had a cross tattooed on it and a golden ring, both now looking uncanny under the crimson that drew too much attention from you.

“You didn’t have a tattooed finger before”, was all you could say, almost out of breath.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Your eyes wandered around; there was the only unfamiliar thing, and still was capable of making you feel uncomfortable. It was a surprise for yourself, the girl who beat a school colleague at seven years old because she called you a bitch. Silco tried very hard not to congratulate you too much that day, speaking politely with the principal but also making a point of not allowing that other girl to get an apology from you; she was cursing you, not the other way around - and it wasn’t just because some childish argument, the fact that you were from Zaun made you a target of mean looks and disdain all around Piltover while growing up. That girl had it coming (a broken nose) and you got a popsicle. So, yeah, blood wasn’t that out of your reality, but for some reason that detached finger made you change the weight from one leg to the other, breathing deeply.

“What happened?”

“Some idiot had the idea of snitching, we lost a guy who was in Rebecca's factory.” The well dressed man pointed to the bloody, sole body part. “This was her way of telling she found out about our plans”

“Point made, I guess”

“I just called you here so we could arrange things with David.” You frowned, looking over your shoulder to the serious, suited man behind. “I’m assigning someone else to guard you from now on. At least until this troublesome, unnecessary hostility ends”

“You’re trying to invade each other’s business, I’m pretty sure it’s not that unnecessary, dad”, the amount of discomfort was making you uneasy. That conflict was growing too much, a finger wouldn’t be the most alarming body part to appear around.

As much as your dad had had numerous conflicts around, the tension between Glasc Company and your father’s business took a turn when Rebecca decided to sell drugs herself. Losing territory, the one he fought too hard to get, was very unpleasant.

So, with quick heartbeats and perspiring palms, you watched as your father gave David some papers and instructions. The tall guy nodded, turning and offering you a smile - probably for the second or third time, which made it look very off-putting for him.

“It was very nice working for you. I never said a thing because it wasn’t part of the work”, it was more words than you’ve ever heard from him. His voice was different that you thought based on the monosyllabic answers he always gave. “but your book recommendations and songs were good. Thanks”

“Well, that’s more than I expected, I genuinely thought you hated me.” You chuckled. “It was nice having you around, David”

Then he left the room and you were left with your dad and that stupid finger, Silco seated on his couch and grabbed a cigar. “Aren’t you going to grab that finger? I thought it was rude to show it around for nothing”, you seated next to him.

Even though your father wasn’t hurt, the aspect of where that war could lead to made you think about very violent and scary endings. He was a good criminal, but still a man, a mortal one.

“I need someone else to see it” He crossed his legs as you got closer, laying the head on his shoulder before he pulled you closer on a sided embrace. “She’ll come soon. Until then, tell me how your classes are.”

He always did that, since you were a kid. Being on a college level didn’t make that much of a difference in his eyes, at least about that topic. He would listen to you talk about muscle pains and lame history classes, instrumental music, group dynamics and upcoming events. It was simple and chill, but it was his way of connecting with you in an area he didn’t know a lot about, aside from your yearly spectacles.

“This new assignment seems tiring, darling” He observed. “But, like they say, break a leg. You will be just fine”

Before you could make a joke about his use of theatrical sayings, the door swung open to reveal a tall, cloaked woman with short dark hair. The look on her face revealed dissatisfaction when she traveled it from the detached, bloody finger to you; the same you knew very well from everytime you both crossed paths. The same one you couldn’t forget for two days after receiving it.

She just stood there, silent, hands on the side of her built body, looking directly at you as if she was waiting for something - or someone. You could involuntarily lose yourself under the grayish orbs, as much as you hated this fact, but an insight struck you.

You backed off your father, turning to stare at him, not getting a single word in response. That must be a joke.

“You can’t be serious”, the tone in your voice was almost desperate. He couldn’t be doing this, right?

“That finger points otherwise”

・・・・・・・・・・

Telling David you thought he hated you was a silly comment to cool the mood. Saying that Sevika probably hated you was an understatement.

The first time you met she had just been hired and you both made a scene when she didn't believe you about being Silco's daughter. When your father introduced you officially, she just looked annoyed and bit back some unpleasant comment, knowing very well that it could cost her work.

Since then, you haven't spoken peacefully with each other. She always had a snarky comment about your classes and the way you behaved - which, to be fair, she wasn't kinda wrong; every year you realized how stupid you could've been the year before, maturity didn't come out of nowhere. Sevika herself got more mature too. She was probably five years older than you and with much more life experience, but she wasn't the holder of all knowledge and could be very judgemental too.

Putting you together wasn't a choice your father made for nothing. Sevika was his best employee. She fought better than anyone and would prioritize your safety at all costs, since it was her job now. That meant that if you wanted to go somewhere, Sevika had a saying on if you could go or not. If you wanted to visit a new place, it had to be checked before. If you wanted to stay up all night practicing in a studio you rented - because your apartment wasn't that big in order to not draw too much attention -, she had to be there and also get more people to guard the building.

And that's exactly what was happening right now.

A month since the finger incident, with Sevika being your bodyguard. She didn't look pleased. And you could say you weren't either… But that would be a massive lie.

Because you liked her looks in your direction when you were getting out of classes, and you liked the way she rolled her eyes at your bad jokes, the ones you did solely to annoy her - you were very mature but you also loved to annoy her. You liked to stand next to her on coffee shop lines, instead of being in front of her, and you liked to dress better just so she could give you a look from head to toes whenever you got out of your apartment in the mornings.

Honestly, who could judge you?

You didn't realize those things until a week later after this whole shit started, when you tried to get off one night and accidentally imagine her. It was a very embarrassing moment and you forced yourself to sleep as soon as you got back from that high, but the image didn't fade away. The image of her towering you and kissing you, pressing her body against yours in the most desperate way. You got off imagining kisses and intimacy with Sevika. Not necessarily pornographic scenarios, no; just the thought of her lips on yours and how she would react when feeling you on her fingers, her face and the words she could say, the heavy breaths. That turned you on. The feeling of being so close you could feel the heat and your heart beat faster.

You don't know what is the worst part: coming when imagining Sevika, or the fact that what got into your mind wasn't even that explicit. It was so simple, it made you pissed off about how she could affect you with so little.

But it was just a fantasy, a distant and unrealistic one. She didn't like you. Right?

Right.

That ideas were fucking you up bit by bit. At this point it was difficult to practice, head far gone, not in the slightest focusing on that amazing song you got to choose - La Danse Macabre was one of your favorite pieces and fit the theme well in your vision. So you needed to compose a four minute choreography and you have been practicing it for four weeks straight. You'd go from classes to the studio every day, staying up until late. Your feet hurt, your body was most definitely not that used to the extra effort, but it would be worth it. Not to brag, but it was kinda dope.

So there you were, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to convey all the feelings you needed to: the sensuality of death, calling the viewer in the most subtle and dangerous way at first, but ending up being beautiful.

Your body gesture had to be on point with the postures and the weight of the moviments, it wasn't easy the fact that you would present it alone.

At some point, you didn't know when, you noticed Sevika on the corner next to the door. She was just there, quiet, looking at you.

Her presence threw you off. You slipped a little, losing timing and concentration. "Fuck", you hissed.

The song stopped when you reached your phone to pause it. Looking at the time, it had been three hours since you arrived. Your legs were sore and, honestly, the concentration was so little that just the image of that woman was enough to make you lose it. Tiredness and frustration got into you, making you sigh and turn to her. She didn't move an inch.

"What are you looking at?" That sounded more harsh than you wished.

"I thought you were a dancer. They usually are looked at, anyways", she didn't seem to diminish anything there, or to bother by your tone. That fucking look she had, the one that told you how you wouldn't get anything from her; it was nerve-wracking.

You thought you saw her eyes wandering through your body, but it probably was just some illusion.

"Yeah, I guess so", you shrugged, trying not to notice her posture or to imagine her torso under that cloak. And shirt. Numerous thoughts came back; no, illusions. Fantasies. Sevika holding you and her breath against your skin, would the feeling of her torso under your palms be so pleasant? Would her lips be so good on yours? Would the warmth give you butterflies? "Do you like what you see?"

The fact that you said "see" and not "saw" didn't click immediately; you weren't talking about the dance.

Sevika gulped. She gulped while analyzing your body on that collant and pantyhose, thinking about how your would skin feel under her touch. How she wanted to hear you calling her name and gasping, while she tried to make you feel so good like you never felt.

The looks weren't just your imagination. The way she noticed you dressing a little bit differently, that was real. And she'd spent the day trying to focus on her work and not laughing at your horrible jokes, or not feeling too good about you succeeding in your classes and beating all those snobs' pilties. She wanted to congratulate you about the choreography and say how she would follow you without question if you were death, because dying under your hypnotizing moves would be a blessing.

She wanted to say how you could do whatever you wanted to her.

So that question was so timely. The smirk on her full dark lips made you shiver, a feeling pooling on your stomach, anticipation. Gods help you, the need to kiss her was so fucking overwhelming now.

"I do, actually", Sevika said. "I like it very much. It's a gorgeous view"

It could be all. That moment could end and you'd never mention it again, leave it like water under the bridge. But, oh, you wanted to drown. You wanted to drink that water, savor it, until that thirst ended.

So you gave a step. And seeing her chest moving with a breath, you gave another. You walked towards her carefully, like she could escape any minute, and when you were finally close enough that pressure seemed to crush your chest, taking the air from your lungs.

In your life it wasn't that many times you'd sweat before kissing someone. And yet there you were, palms perspiring because Sevika wasn't moving.

"Show me how you like it, then", you said. "I'm a physical, practical learner, by the way"

She chuckled lightly, looking away and then to you again. That could literally cost her life or yours.

You could be the angel of her small death, and Sevika would die happily.

Throwing all the reasoning away, she finally touched you. She pulled you close and erased the space between your lips, poisoning herself in your taste and your tongue. Your mind flooded with stimuli: her lips and tongue, her shoulders under your hands, the weight of her touch on your hips, the imaginary scenes your mind created to make you ask yourself about what you both could do.

The small moan that escaped between the kiss made her hold you tighter, dominating that moment with her need. Her hair felt soft, intertwined with your fingers, and the muscles pressing yours made your head spin. It must be a gift from the goddesses.

It didn't matter the other guards outside of the room or the building, right now it was just you both.

"Show me how you like it", you whispered, untying her cloak to reveal her strong torso and shoulders covered by the dark shirt. "How you'd like to take me"

She groaned, kissing you again and pulling you by the thighs, forcing you to wrap the legs around her as she walked to sit on a simple couch there.

The feeling of her body under your touch was capable of numbing your thoughts, skin warm and scarred. Her kiss was so fucking intoxicating, consuming you from inside out while she grabbed your flesh.

When her lips traveled through your chin and jaw, going to your neck, you sighed and moved the hips on her lap. Your fingers got the elastic off her hair, letting the strands fall loose around her face as you pulled back to look at the woman. The dark grayish eyes and the full lips, beautiful nose, that jawline, some scars around; Sevika was so pretty it took your breath away.

"I don't think you want to spend all the time looking at me, princess", she murmured and her voice made all your body respond. The smirk added to her movements to lose your hair from the high bun; fuck, you were out of words. "What? Did the cat get your tongue?"

"I'll look at you a lot later", you finally said, fingers caressing her features as she analyzed you closely. "Now I really need you to handle me around"

Sevika's smug was something so intimate to you, something that, you swear, could make you go insane.

She pulled the straps of your leotard, eyes still glued to your reactions as the cool air reached your nipples, making you sigh. Without wasting any more time, Sevika held you by the waist with the prosthetic hand and used the other to play with one breast. A warm tongue tasted the other one, and she was so careful to let you feel every inch of that contact. You felt that throbbing between your legs more intensely the more she twisted the muscle, savoring, tasting. Her thumb and index finger played with the free nipple, shivers across your body making you breathe heavily with the sensations.

Your hands worked on feeling every muscle you could, hips moving because the sensations spreading from between your legs through your body were getting more and more prominent. Her tongue was soft, but your attention got divided by the cool prosthetic hand pulling the leotard. You didn’t want to separate from her, but you had too.

Sevika kept looking at your body as you pulled away, getting up between her strong legs. And she analyzed as you started to take off the clothes and the pointe shoes. Being under her sight like that was something else, you could feel your heart beating across your whole body, getting heated and desperate. Her demeanor, the laid back posture, spread legs and trenchant look got you wanting to get on your knees. And that’s what you did.

Throwing the fabric pieces away, you started to unbelt her pants and pull the zip down while squatting and kneeling. She’d stare at you, at your easy hands and light touches going especially fast to open the clothing. The contrast between this and the way you looked at her could make her go impatient, but she held back the instinct to do everything on her time when seeing the hunger growing in you.

“I thought you wanted me to handle you”, she smirked while raising the hips to take away the pants, after doing the same with her shoes. You helped, caressing the muscular thighs with admiration in your mind. Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“And I hope you do”, you kissed the right thigh, trailing up slowly until you reached her crotch. Under the shirt you saw her abdomen contracting in response and the chest expanding with her heavy breaths. “Never rode someone’s face?” You smirked, right hand touching the side of her body, up and down.

As you imagined, she then proceeded to lean in your direction while a hand grabbed you by the, now, loose hair. It wasn’t hard, but enough to make you throb and, for sure, get more wet. When she noticed your reaction was positive something shifted. Her pupils blown, and you could notice the mood changing by the glit in her eyes.

She got so close the tip of your noses bumped, silence crushing you while she made sure you wouldn’t falt back. And then, you could swear, Sevika got a bigger hunger in her. “Finish taking this shit off”, she said.

You needed a second as she laid back again. She arched an eyebrow as a cue for you to pull the boxers off, and as much as you tried you didn’t paid a single fuck to where that piece of fabric went. Not when Sevika drew you closer with a single ministration through your head, pulling you to her core as your heart beat faster.

She was wet and, fuck, she looked so appealing. Your mouth watered as you rested the hands on her bare thighs.

“Tongue out”, you obeyed.

Sevika finally pulled one last time and a satisfied, low sound got out of you, as you finally tasted her. And, oh, she was delicious.

Her hips started to move, the vision from that angle would never fade from your mind. She was enjoying this, dragging her core on your tongue, holding you there so you couldn’t leave, using you to her pleasure. And your mind was getting too crowded with that much information in the best way. Your pussy clenched when she moaned low, nipples somehow getting even harder to the point of hurting. Her taste was being scattered around your mouth and you wanted to be there for your whole life.

“Flat your tongue”, and you did, with a rush that made her smirk. Her abs would flex with her movements, so as her thighs.

Having Sevika riding your face was something so heavenly, so divine. You almost envied those girls in the brothel, who could get to do it so much, but then you'd remember that this woman was so worked up already because of you.

Her bud against your palate, the juices going on your lips and chin, the expressions due to the pleasure that came to bestow her, the loose hair falling on her face and the muscles contracting. The little wet sounds of your tongue against her core made the situation more erotic, and at some point you started to move the muscle that was in contact there. It drew a moan from Sevika, who was using the left arm to sustain her weight while she rubbed herself on you, seeking pleasure.

The more the seconds went by, the more Sevika loosened herself. She started to fault in her moves, twitching and spasming as her dark gray eyes ate the sight of you so eagerly tasting her. A small moan escaped, followed by a growl and her legs spreading more.

Your hands flew to her breasts under the shirt, palming the warm flesh, searching for her nipples as you hummed against her core. The vibrations pleased her.

The way you started to flick your tongue heavily got the tall woman groaning and pressing your head harder against herself. You saw the frown and the way her eyes rolled before closing, her body tensing, the shaky and sharp breaths as you felt her getting excessively wet.

"Fuck–!" She gasped, a smirk on her full, attractive lips. "So good, princess", her words were as smooth as the caresses the woman made on your hair, still spasming everytime your tongue drew on her swollen bud.

The flavor was divine; you thought as you palate went on her entrance. The fact that you could taste her forever made you hotter, eager, needier.

Sevika leaned and pulled you again, making you sulk a little at the distance from that heavenly position. But then she got you back on her lap, against her chest, legs open.

Even though no one else was there, you felt exposed. As if your secret were being revealed and, suddenly, the whole world could watch as your most recent forbidden fantasies played out.

The way she held you there, prosthetic hand under a knee as the other one traveled around your naked body, creating heat paths on your skin. Her lips distribute kisses along your neck and shoulder, taking sighs from you. And underneath all of it was an overwhelming heartbeat that got you panting at the sensation of her touch going south.

"Shit, you're dripping", she whispered, getting your attention. You turned to look at her, lips parted brushing on hers as her fingers went from your entrance to your already sensitive clit. "Got so worked up just from me riding your face?"

"Yes…"

Her digits, soaked, rubbed smoothly on your bud. You rested a hand on her hair, the other playing with your nipples as she tortuously stimulated your core.

"So good… Do you get that wet when you touch yourself thinking about me?"

You froze, eyes wandering around her face just to capture that smug. Despite that, Sevika didn't stop. She kept working on you, massaging your whole cunt, getting her own palm full of your moistures as you felt yourself throb. "I heard you one night. You didn't even notice you called my name, uh?"

Shit.

You actually did. With her on the other side of the door, you kinda expected that you had said it lower than it actually was, and that she hadn't listened to it that night. But it seems like life wouldn't let it pass.

"So now" Sevika kissed you, pecking on your lips as her fingers concentrated on your sensitive bud. "Let me hear you. Loud and clear"

Her ministrations were making you move your hips. Everything started to be too much, her breath against your skin, the cold of the prosthetic hand and the air. You wanted to give in entirely, wishing you were at home so she could rail you on your bed. She increased the speed, having your moans growing bit by bit.

It felt good. Too good. You kept messing with your own breasts, eyes rolling with your hips and her hand, feeling that high approaching.

"Getting all loosen up and relax for me, I might as well fuck you again tonight, princess", she hissed, taking a small smile for you as two of her fingers pressed and got inside of you.

You moaned more languidly as she moved with ease, in and out smoothly due to how wet you were. And it didn't take long until you felt that pull in your stomach, clenching around her digits and gasping, whining, a hand full of her hair as you moved without control.

The climax made you arch your back, her fingers came back to circle on your clit again as you trembled and murmured some incomprehensible words. Throbbing and spasming; that woman made you so full of desire it was ridiculous.

"Gorgeous", Sevika whispered, kissing your neck as you came down from your high, breathing deeply and feeling your body floating on her lap.

"That was some stupid shit", you chuckled, panting.

Her hands closed your legs and helped you turn a little so you could rest on her prosthetic arm and look better at her. Some sweat drops were on her forehead and the side of her neck, the dark skin glowing a bit.

"I learned a lot today, thanks", the woman laughed, accepting your touch on her face. "It was very delightful"

"I'm glad I could provide you some knowledge", her right hand rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your skin. "I hope on the future you can teach me how to make your fantasies come true"

At that, your core sent a shiver through your body, heat rising slightly. "Maybe someday I'll tell you"

Sevika nodded as you rested the head on her shoulder. She felt warm. Was it wrong to want her on your bed?

"I'll look forward to it"

・・・・・・・・・・

Your body was full of energy right now, the feeling of being on top of the world consuming you from inside out. It was almost possible to feel every molecule vibrating, twisting your guts.

"Call another guard", you murmured to Sevika discreetly while passing by her.

She followed you outside the building of Art classes, looking around as usual. The car was waiting, following the time established by orders.

The whole way to your apartment was silent. Your class came back to memory, the sensation of finally presenting the piece you've been planning for weeks now. The music took you away and, during those notes that reverberated on your flesh, no one was there. Just you and the music, working together. And it didn't feel real when your teacher congratulated you with a smile on her fine lips; she wasn't the type of teacher to smile that much. That meant a lot. It was huge actually.

But before telling anyone, you wanted to let all this energy flow to something else. To somebody else.

So you waited until a knock on your bedroom door, and you saw her getting inside carefully, confusion on her face as you asked her to sit by a corner.

Resting on your bed, heartbeat increasing, you moistened your lips. "Do you wanna know what else I fantasized about?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[dividers by @froopis]

#sevika oneshot #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika fic #sevika x reader smut #sevika x reader fanfic #sevika x reader fic #deblklesb #arcane fanfic #arcane oneshot #arcane fic

292 notes · View notes