Work Text:
Day One: Body Worship
You stood in front of the mirror with your shirt pulled up just high enough to expose your stomach. You hated it.
You used to love this part of yourself, when it was full and round, carrying your baby. People had looked at you with wonder then. Awe. Love. Now, all you could see were the stretchmarks, the softness, the skin that didn’t feel like it belonged to you anymore. You stared at them like you could make them disappear if you just glared hard enough.
It had been weeks since you and Sevika had been intimate. At first, you told yourself it was the baby. Little Sami, your beautiful girl, your miracle, who looked just like her mother. It was easy to blame the exhaustion, the diapers, the midnight cries. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the real reason.
The real reason was fear.
You were terrified of what Sevika would think of you now, of your body now. The extra weight around your belly. The way your hips had widened. The new softness in your thighs, the faint silver lines that trailed across your skin like reminders. You didn’t feel sexy. You didn’t even feel desirable.
You didn’t hear Sevika come in until her arms wrapped around your waist from behind.
You flinched, instinctively tugging your shirt down, but her calloused hand caught yours gently.
“Don’t,” she murmured, her voice low and steady. “Please don’t hide from me.”
You couldn’t meet her eyes in the mirror.
“I just—” Your voice caught. “I don’t look the same.”
Sevika rested her chin on your shoulder, her dark eyes fixed on your reflection. “No, you don’t.”
Your heart dropped.
“But you’re more now,” she added, brushing your hair aside to kiss the curve of your neck. “You carried our daughter. You made her with your body. And you think I could ever look at you with anything but love?”
You bit your lip, blinking hard.
Sevika’s hands slid slowly over your stomach, cradling it as gently as she had cradled Sami. “These stretchmarks? They’re ours . They mean something. They mean strength. They mean you grew life. You think that makes you less beautiful?”
“I just don’t feel like myself anymore,” you whispered.
She turned you in her arms then, cupping your cheeks in her rough palms. “Then let me remind you who you are.”
Her kiss was tender at first, soft and reverent. She moved slowly, as if every touch was a prayer, a blessing laid onto the skin you had come to resent. Her lips trailed down to your collarbone, her hands holding you like something sacred.
“You are everything to me,” Sevika whispered between kisses. “Even more now. Let me show you.”
You hesitated, your eyes flickering toward the baby monitor, still silent.
Sevika smiled. “We’ve got time.”
She sank to her knees in front of you, her hands gripping your hips with careful reverence. She pressed a kiss to the soft curve of your stomach, and then another. You trembled, your fingers finding her hair.
“Let me worship you,” she murmured against your skin. “Let me love every part of you the way you deserve.”
And slowly, hesitantly at first, you began to let her.
Sevika’s lips moved slowly across your stomach, her fingers brushing against skin that hadn’t been touched like this in weeks. You felt your breath hitch, half nerves, half longing, your hand still tangled in her hair like an anchor.
You couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you like this. Like you were precious. Like you were still the same person you were before the sleepless nights, the crying fits, the quiet moments where you stared at your reflection and didn’t recognize what you saw.
Sevika kissed the line of a stretchmark, then another, her palms smoothing up your sides. “These marks?” she whispered, her breath warm. “They’re beautiful. Proof of what your body did. What we did.”
You blinked back tears. “I don’t feel beautiful.”
“You don’t have to,” she murmured, rising slowly, her hands still on your waist. “Let me feel it for both of us.”
You leaned into her as she stood, her arms strong and sure around you. She kissed you again, deeper this time, slower. Not rushed, not desperate, just present. You melted into it, letting her pull you closer, her thigh slipping between yours as you stood together, your bodies flush.
Her hands slid beneath your shirt with a quiet reverence, lifting it inch by inch until it was over your head. You shivered, not from cold, but from how exposed you felt. But Sevika didn’t look away. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes roamed your body with a kind of softness that made your chest ache.
“You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Even more now.”
Your bra followed, and when her hands touched your bare skin, it was like she was mapping you all over again, this new version of you. Her thumb brushed just beneath your breast, then circled around your nipple with practiced care. She kissed down your throat, lingering where your pulse beat fast and fluttering.
You let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” She kissed the corner of your mouth. “But I’m here. I’ve got you.”
She led you to the bed slowly, guiding you down onto the mattress with her body covering yours, braced on her elbows so she could see every flicker of doubt in your eyes, and answer them with nothing but love.
Sevika took her time. She always had, but this was different. Every kiss to your skin felt like an apology for every self-hating thought you’d had. Every stroke of her tongue, every reverent touch to the places you’d been hiding, was a quiet I see you. I still want you.
Sevika's mouth lingered at your stomach, her lips dragging slowly over the soft skin there, kissing the stretchmarks you’d once wanted to erase. You were bare above the waist now, and every brush of her hands made you ache a little more. She looked up at you as she kissed just below your navel, and something in her eyes made your throat close up, like she could see all the shame and wanted to take it from you, kiss it right out of your body.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to touch you,” she murmured, voice low and rough. “Not just like this. Exactly like this. With everything that makes you you .”
You opened your mouth to respond, but then her hands hooked into the waistband of your pants, dragging them down your hips with a quiet patience that made your pulse throb between your legs. You helped her, nervous, breath shaking as if it was your first time even doing this, but the moment your underwear was gone, her mouth was back on your skin. Her kisses were slower now, heavier, her breath warm against your thighs.
“You're perfect like this,” she said, as her thumb gently parted your folds and brushed through the wetness gathering there. “So fucking soft.”
Your body jolted at the touch. You hadn’t felt this in weeks, maybe months, and now, with her strong hands holding your legs apart and her mouth hovering just above you, all you could do was breathe and tremble.
When her tongue finally pressed to you, you gasped, sharp and sudden. She groaned softly at the taste, as if she’d been starving for it, and began to move with deliberate, reverent strokes. Each one was firm, steady, unrelenting. Her hands gripped your hips to keep you from squirming away as your back arched off the bed.
“Oh...Sevika…” you whimpered, fingers tangling in her hair again.
She moaned in response, the vibrations shooting through you. Her tongue circled your clit in slow, hungry spirals, only to suck it gently between her lips a moment later. You cried out, thighs trembling around her head, but she didn’t stop. Didn’t give you time to think or to retreat into shame. All she gave you was sensation, devotion, and it broke you wide open.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” she said, pulling back for just a breath, her fingers teasing your entrance now. “You gonna let me make you come?”
You nodded frantically, eyes wet, thighs trembling, heart pounding.
She slid two fingers inside you with ease, your body more than ready, and you moaned loud and needy as her thumb found your clit again, circling it while her fingers curled just right. She fucked you slow at first, deep and firm, but when your hips began to buck, she matched your rhythm. It was too much. Too much and not enough.
“You feel this?” she growled softly, mouth at your ear as she rose over you, fingers still thrusting deep. “This is mine. This body it's mine to love. Mine to care for. Mine to ruin, if you’ll let me.”
“Sev—!” You couldn’t even form a thought, just keened as she slammed into that perfect spot again and again, pushing you closer to the edge.
You came hard, legs shaking, hands clawing at her shoulders, crying out her name like a prayer. She held you through it, kissing you messily, wetly, like she needed you just as badly.
But she wasn’t finished.
“Turn over for me, baby,” she whispered against your lips, her voice ragged with want.
You hesitated, but the hunger in her gaze undid you. You turned onto your stomach slowly, your ass high, face flushed against the sheets. You heard her undress behind you, the sound of fabric hitting the floor, the creak of the bed shifting as she straddled behind you.
You felt her line up, her cock pressing against your entrance, and you moaned as she slid inside, slow and deep. Her cock stretched you open perfectly, and the feel of her hips flush against your ass made you bite into the pillow.
You missed this. You missed how good she fit inside of you.
“You still with me?” she asked, one hand gripping your hip, the other stroking your back with surprising tenderness.
“Y-yeah,” you breathed. “Please… don’t stop…”
She didn’t.
Her thrusts started slow, deep, controlled, but quickly built into something hungry, something needy . Her hand slid between your legs again, fingers rubbing your clit in perfect rhythm with her hips slamming into you from behind. You choked on a cry, face burning as your body opened for her again.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so good,” she growled, sweat slick on her chest as she leaned over you. “You were made for this. For me.”
You lost yourself completely, every thrust, every filthy word from her mouth pushing you toward the edge until you shattered for a second time, louder this time, the pleasure rolling through you in heavy waves.
Sevika collapsed beside you after a moment, arms wrapping around your waist, dragging you into her chest. You felt her kiss the top of your head, your shoulder, the curve of your breast.
“You okay?” she murmured against your skin.
You nodded, too breathless to answer right away.
“I meant it,” she whispered. “Every word. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ll keep showing you until you believe it.”
You turned to face her, chest heaving, tears slipping from your eyes again, but this time, they didn’t come from shame.
They came from love.
The room was quiet, save for your breathing and the slow settling of your heart. The sheets clung damply to your skin, your limbs still tingling from the waves of pleasure Sevika had wrung from you, gently at first, then with a hunger that left your body singing and spent.
You shifted slightly, letting out a soft noise as soreness bloomed low in your belly and between your thighs. Sevika was already moving.
“Hey,” she said gently, brushing the hair from your face. Her voice had changed; it wasn’t the growl she used when she wanted you; this was soft, almost reverent. “Don’t move too fast, I’ve got you.”
She kissed your forehead, then rolled off the bed to grab the warm, damp cloth she’d brought in earlier. Always thinking ahead, quiet ways of taking care of you even before you asked.
She returned to you slowly, kneeling beside the bed, one hand stroking your calf, the other carefully easing your legs apart again.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” she said as she began to clean you up, her touch warm and gentle between your thighs.
It wasn’t too much. It was grounding. You watched her, her broad shoulders hunched in concentration, brow furrowed, as if wiping between your legs was something sacred, something not to be rushed. She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh before tossing the cloth aside and crawling back into bed beside you.
You sighed as she wrapped her arms around you from behind, pulling you into her chest. Her skin was still warm, her heartbeat steady against your back. You nestled into her instinctively, letting her hand rest just beneath your breasts, where your ribcage rose and fell in slow, exhausted waves.
“You still okay?” she asked, lips brushing your temple.
“Yeah,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “Just… a little overwhelmed.”
She hummed, nuzzling into your hair. “That’s okay. You were incredible.”
You swallowed hard, blinking against the tears starting to sting again. “I didn’t think I could do that. Let you see me like this.”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” she murmured, rubbing slow circles into your stomach. “You just have to be mine. And let me love you.”
You turned in her arms, burying your face in her neck. Her scent, faint smoke and skin and something like clean sweat, wrapped around you, calming every frayed nerve.
“You still want me?” you asked quietly. “Even like this?”
Sevika’s arms tightened around you. “I never stopped wanting you. Not for a second.”
You were silent for a moment. Then: “I’ve been scared I’d never feel like myself again.”
She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. “You’re not the same. And that’s not a bad thing. You carried our daughter. You brought her into this world. You grew . You changed. And you’re still sexy as hell.”
A quiet laugh bubbled out of you, surprised and soft.
“There’s that smile,” she said, eyes warm. “Missed that.”
Then, as if on cue, a soft crackle came from the baby monitor on the nightstand. You both turned toward it, holding your breath.
A tiny whimper. Then a rustling. And then that familiar, sleepy cry, gentle, not quite urgent yet.
“Sami,” you breathed.
Sevika groaned softly, already sitting up. “I’ll get her. You stay here.”
“No, I wanna—” But you were already trying to rise, legs still a little shaky.
Sevika caught your wrist. “Let me help.”
She stood and reached for your robe, draping it over your shoulders before steadying you as you climbed out of bed. She didn’t say a word when you winced, just rubbed your lower back gently with one hand while the other helped you tie the belt.
You padded quietly down the hall together, hips bumping, Sevika’s hand still at your waist. The nursery was dimly lit with the soft glow of the nightlight; a sleepy sun painted on the wall. Sami lay in her crib, face crumpled, little fists waving in the air.
You reached down and scooped her up gently, settling her against your chest. She quieted almost immediately, her tiny body warm and solid in your arms.
“She looks just like you,” you whispered.
“She has your eyes,” Sevika said, wrapping an arm around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as the three of you stood together in the soft hush of the nursery.
You leaned back into her chest, swaying slightly as Sami nuzzled into your collarbone. You were tired. Sore. Still aching in places you hadn’t known could ache. But you were held. You were loved. And your family—this messy, imperfect, beautiful family, was whole.
“Thank you,” you whispered, not even sure if you meant Sevika or fate or life in general.
She kissed your shoulder and whispered back, “Always.”