Latest Posts by blasphemous-riot - Page 3

University Vi headcannons - ⭐

a/n: i wrote some for Caitlyn so here are some for Vi

~

University Choice: Vi would go to University College London (UCL), studying Criminal Justice or Forensic Science—she’s always been passionate about justice and law.

She’s definitely not the study-all-day type—more of a get-in-and-get-out kind of person.

Prefers hands-on learning, especially when it comes to practical labs or field trips, where she can do real-world work.

Hates group work—she’d rather do everything on her own than rely on others.

Barely studies for exams—she trusts her instinct and experiences more than textbooks.

Her idea of revision is reading summaries the night before an exam.

Loves lectures that involve action or conflict, especially when there’s a good debate involved.

She’s notorious for debating with professors, especially when she disagrees with something.

Doesn’t really care about grades—as long as she passes, she’s fine.

Always last-minute cramming, but still somehow pulls through with decent grades.

Reputation as a “badass”—Vi has a tough exterior, and people respect her because she doesn’t take crap from anyone.

Despite her tough-girl persona, she’s surprisingly popular—people love her energy and boldness.

She’s part of the boxing club, where she’s known for her impressive skills.

The go-to person for advice if someone’s being picked on—Vi doesn’t tolerate bullies.

Loves late-night hangs with her friends, where they either talk about the latest crime cases or watch old action films.

Rarely attends parties, but when she does, she’s the one leading everyone to the dance floor or winning drinking games.

People who are close to her know that Vi is a softie at heart—her reputation as a “tough girl” is mostly an act.

Vi tends to hang out in a small but loyal group of friends, mostly people she trusts.

Doesn’t deal well with fakeness—if someone is pretending to be something they’re not, she’ll call them out.

People know not to mess with you because Vi always has your back.

Vi’s university style is a mix of casual but tough—hoodies, leather jackets, denim, and combat boots.

Loves wearing jackets with patches or anything that adds a bit of flair.

She’s more into comfort than style, but she somehow makes it look effortlessly cool.

Always has her signature fingerless gloves on, even in lectures.

Dark denim jeans—either ripped or perfectly fitted, depending on her mood.

Vi’s style can be described as sporty chic—always ready for a workout or a spontaneous adventure.

Wears minimal jewelry, usually a watch and a couple of rings—simple but effective.

Her university bag? A sturdy backpack, perfect for carrying books and personal gear.

Hoodies and T-shirts with band logos are her go-to for casual days.

Loves oversized coats during winter, especially ones that make her look like a bouncer.

Vi is incredibly protective of you, always making sure you're safe and looking out for your wellbeing.

Loves to pick you up after class and sometimes gives you a ride home if you’re not too far.

Always surprising you with little gifts—a new book she thinks you’d like or a sweet treat from the local café.

Vi loves physical affection, so expect a lot of hugs, back rubs, and sneaky kisses between classes.

She’s a big fan of holding hands—especially when she feels the need to keep you close.

When she’s stressed, she’ll come to you for comfort, laying her head on your lap or asking for cuddles.

Shares her snacks with you, even if she pretends not to, claiming, “It’s just because you look hungry.”

Loves cooking for you, and while it’s not always gourmet, her homemade meals feel like a warm hug.

She’d sneak into your room when she’s feeling tired, just to fall asleep next to you.

Vi is overprotective but in a playful way—if anyone dares to flirt with you, expect her to step in, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

Gets jealous when other people get too close to you, but she tries not to show it—she’s just protective.

When you’re feeling down, she’ll make you laugh or tell you how amazing you are.

Surprises you with spontaneous dates—be it a late-night walk around campus or a picnic in the park.

She’s always making you laugh, even on the worst days.

Teases you affectionately, calling you cute nicknames like “sparky” or “wild one.”

Vi adores when you wear her clothes—especially her oversized sweaters.

Crashes your study sessions by sneaking in and distracting you with a kiss.

Never hesitates to stand up for you—even if it means confronting someone who’s been rude.

If you're feeling insecure about something, Vi will remind you of how amazing you are in her own straightforward way.

Always invites you to hang out with her friends, and she makes sure everyone treats you well.

How She Deals With Exam Stress

Vi deals with stress through physical activity—boxing, running, or even punching a bag.

Hates studying for long periods, so she takes frequent breaks to blow off steam.

Gets easily frustrated when things aren’t clicking, but she always pushes through.

When she needs to focus, she locks herself away in her room, no distractions.

Rarely asks for help, even though she definitely could use it sometimes.

She’s the type to procrastinate until the last minute—but somehow still gets decent results.

Listens to loud music when she’s stressed, blasting rock or punk to drown out everything else.

Takes long walks or does a few laps around campus to clear her head.

Gets easily overwhelmed, but she relies on you to keep her grounded.

Treats herself with chocolate or junk food after a tough study session.

Has a favorite diner where she takes you to get burgers and fries after a long week.

Hates taking public transport—she prefers walking or riding her bike everywhere.

Loves movie nights, especially action films or anything with a lot of explosions.

Her idea of a perfect day is hanging out with you, grabbing food, and watching a film at home.

Loves showing off her tattoos to anyone who’ll listen—each one has a story.

Always checks on you if you’re feeling stressed about assignments.

Can’t stand overly competitive people—she’d rather just enjoy life and not turn everything into a contest.

Adores when you play with her hair, especially when she’s tired.

Loves quirky cafes, especially ones with board games—Vi’s competitive streak comes out when she plays.

Always texts you first after her last lecture, even if it’s just to say, “How’s your day going?”

Could eat pizza every day, and she’s probably the one who introduces you to new pizza places.

Plans spontaneous trips just to get away from university stress—weekend getaways are her thing.

Is definitely a morning person, but she still stays up late to keep you company.

Sings along to songs in the car when you’re driving, but only if no one’s around.

Always keeps your favourite snacks stocked at her place, so you’ll feel at home whenever you visit.

ʚɞ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ʚɞ

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞.

𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 & 𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒏𝒊

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

an incessant blaring sound interrupts your nighttime routine. at first, you assume its from the apartment building next to yours. but then the smell of smoke slowly infiltrates any crevice and vent it can seep through. the noises of people frantically exiting the building doesn’t quell the alarm. you feel horrible for thinking what a major inconvenience this is. half of your hair is set with curlers. you grab your purse, keys and phone and follow the crowd down the stairs safely.

once you’re in the night air, you thank whatever gods may exist, it wasn’t your building effected. firefighters flutter in and out of the apartment units sharing an alley with yours. the flames appear somewhat tamed. neighbors mindlessly chatter—speculating what could have caused the fire. EMTs already set up a barricade but it doesn’t stop human curiosity. folks pressing tightly on the wooden barricades and incessantly pestering cops, firefighters or EMTs for any update.

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

thirty minutes later, the flames have succumbed to the efforts of the firefighters. a lingering smell of smoke sits in the air. mud and water mix with the black ash on the building. you see familiar faces crying and holding each other. the firefighters did their best but half of the building got hit the hardest. guilt washes over you. here you felt inconvenienced by the alarm but people have lost most of their belongings and most likely have to start from scratch.

unexpectedly the crowd erupts with a thunderous clap and cheering. it takes no time to realize everyone is commending the firefighters for their hard work. you witness the civil servants peeling off their helmets one by one. it’s clear all of them are exhausted. then some women start dog whistling. with an arched eyebrow, you locate the firefighter causing all the chaos.

the woman stands over 6 feet. she already removed the top layer of the suit which dangles off one shoulder. the moonlight and street lights reflect off her brown skin glistening with sweat. you can hear the gulp of women, straight and queer, as the firefighter curls her fingers underneath her fitted and soaked white t-shirt. she brings the hem of her shirt to her face—wiping off sweat and lingering ash. the entirety of her abs are on display. without even straining you see a drop of sweat rolling down her stomach.

a few women start fanning themselves. you even witness one pushing her cleavage up for prominent display. you hear through the chaos someone announcing residents in your building are allowed to enter again. sighing your relief, you start following the crowd. someone grabs your elbow—trying to get your attention.

swiftly turning around, you’re met face to face with the firefighter causing the lustful gazes and audible desires. with the distance closed—you’re able to see the faded scars on her face and the beginning wrinkles on the corners of her eyes. something about her, her face, those intense grey eyes stirs familiarity in your core. she presents you with a crooked smile.

“don’t recognize me, stranger?” her voice emerges as if from the squashed flames themselves.

you narrow your eyes and let them inspect those features. her fluffy and long eyelashes. her silken black hair that frames her face. the richness of her skin tone provoking you to kiss every inch.

you gasp with recognition. “sevika?”

sevika lets out the tiniest chuckle and nods. her hand on your elbow remains. it sends warmth and comfort throughout your arm. now that you’ve placed the face—you cannot believe you did not connect the dots sooner. yes, she’s aged but she’s still sevika. maybe not your sevika but still the sevika you grew up with.

the same sevika who fiercely protected you and let you crawl into her bottom bunk. the same sevika who beat up the boys for touching you the wrong way. then wiping your tears away moments later. especially the same sevika that took you to the overlook and shared your first kiss with. your guardian angel you never stopped thinking about or hoping turned out okay.

“you’re a firefighter now?”

“well i’ve been one for ten years but yeah.” sevika hold on your elbow shifts, you almost cry, but she only moves her hand underneath it.

your eyes continue searching sevika’s. “i thought you might’ve moved away or…”

sevika knowingly crooks a smile. “or jail?” you cringe but sevika laughs. “yeah, well i came too close a few times. but must’ve had my own guardian angel or something because the last time i got arrested—the judge told me enough was enough. she sent me to some reform program. i ended up liking the firefighter gig so…permanently fighting fires.”

“i’m so proud of you, sev. really.”

“thanks, kid.” sevika takes one step back then inconspicuously checks you out. “maybe not a kid anymore. you’ve filled out well.” she reaches out with her free hand and lifts some hair away from your ears. “and you’ve grown into your ears.”

an instantaneous blush spreads on your cheeks and you swat sevika’s hand away. your fingers reach to situate your hair but sevika catches them. you watch as sevika brings your hand to her lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. the feel of those full lips sends signals all over your skin. it’s almost the same effect she unwillingly provoked on all those women. refraining from retracting your hand, you keep your eyes locked on sevika.

she only smiles. her lips spreading across your knuckles. dammit. sevika fully knows the effect she’s having on you. she drinks it in eagerly despite your limited reactions.

“you hurt or anything? you didn’t live in that building, right?”

you shake your head in response to both questions. sevika smiles again. “oh, good. not a damsel in distress anymore. i get off in an hour. you’ll still be up?”

blinking away your visible confusion, you think over her question. “um, probably, yeah? why?”

a laugh rumbles in sevika’s chest but it never escapes her lips. “because i wanna come over, pretty girl. it’s been so long. can you blame me for wanting to make up for lost time?”

“oh. no, i mean, yes.” you groan—feeling like that helpless teenager that always needed sevika around. “yes, you can come over. i’ll be up. im apartment 8C—ring the buzzer and i’ll come get you.”

sevika hums her acknowledgment then releases her hold from your hand and elbow. yet her touch doesn’t cease and she reaches for a few strands of hair. “it’s kinda unfair, ya know?”

“what’s unfair?”

“you’re outside in a robe and hair half done but still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺ ༻❁༺

placing a kettle on the stove, you reach for two mugs and a container of all your special teas. sevika won’t know, but you never offer anyone your good teas. tonight feels special though. you can feel those grey eyes boring into your back. in the hour and a half window sevika allotted you—you showered, finished with the curlers in your hair, and found a pair of your cutest pajamas. the ruffles on the hem of the shorts barely grazed the crease meeting your butt and thighs. maybe overly ambitious?

when you had greeted sevika at the front door—you could tell her eyes didn’t know what to take in first. in sevika’s mind you were the picture of femininity. pink cotton pajamas hugging your curves sinfully. the cute little bow on the camisole teasing her eyes. she hadn’t expected her heart to momentarily stop at witnessing a fray strand you missed in your curler set. and the way you smelled? a mixture of strawberries and coconut with the faintest dash of something earthy.

sevika’s always found hyperfemininity attractive in the women she dated and slept with. but it was something about you…you wore it effortlessly and without second thought. it was apart of you.

she took in your apartment but eventually found herself staring at you as you prepared the tea.

“need any help, pretty girl?”

the words linger in the air before settling into your skin. when did she get so comfortable with petnames? the kettle whistles pulling you away from the lustful thoughts. “i’m good, thanks. do you still take a heap of sugar and milk in your tea?”

sevika barks out a laughter and you cannot help looking over your shoulder to witness the melodic sound. “i guess some things don’t change. yeah, you know what i like.”

squashing your nerves, you carefully pack some tea herbs into a tiny meshed infuser. once they’re packed—you steadily pour water over them in the mugs. normally you’d watch the tea steep, darkening the water, but instead you carry the mugs over to sevika. placing them down carefully on the thrifted mahogany coffee table, you rush back into the kitchen grabbing a pint of milk, brown sugar and some shortbread cookies.

there’s a sudden warmth that appears behind you. before you can properly investigate a calloused yet familiar hand gently rests on your waist.

“you sure you don’t need help with that…sugar?”

you’re hopeless against the drawl of sevika’s words. the end of her sentence hitting with a double entendres. you cannot place a time sevika’s petnamed you, sugar. she awakens another level of curiosity and arousal within you. if only you could see the look on sevika’s face. the knowing smirk of her affect on you. her pupils dilating and darkening in a way you’ve never been privy to.

you cannot help the racing of your heart. or closing your eyes. you don’t even notice you’re leaning back into sevika’s comfortable warmth until her hand shifts towards the front of your hip. as if she’s catching you and relaying the same message: i miss you.

“yes, you can carry the sugar, sev.” the words somehow manage to crawl out after the long pause between question.

sevika barely grunts her response before reaching underneath your arm. she purposely leans forward. her hips now pressed against your butt. you feel the encompassing safety of her broad shoulders brushing on your neck. you find yourself holding your breath until she pulls away. her prosthetic arm, this one different than the one from the fire earlier, smoothly retrieves the sugar jar.

then she steps back, as if, nothing happened and walks nonchalantly back to the couch. she might as well have whistled with the cockiness oozing off of her. you shakily inhale, one, two, three, then exhale, four five six. jitters remain nonetheless.

you find sevika on the love seat and taking up space at that. yes, you technically have room to sit. but you’d be forced to sit directly underneath her. despite the presence of another sofa, you are both aware that is not how this dance flows.

as sevika already suspected, you delicately lower yourself in the couch cushion next to her. your thighs have no space besides pressed tightly against hers. you cannot tell if you’re hallucinating or can actually feel the warmth through her jeans. not wanting to address the obvious silence you begin prepping the teas. a crap ton of sugar and then enough milk the color turns almost a sandy color.

sevika intently watches your actions. your fingers moving with remembered fluidity. she likes the color you polished your nails. finding herself wondering how they’d juxtapose against the pinkness of your spread pussy. sevika cannot deny the intense arousal building within her. it came the second she spotted your face. it dwelled and grew with her longing to hold you and whisper how much she missed you.

every second spent in your presence reminded sevika why she never lasted long in previous relationships. it took her some therapy and time alone to realize she unintentionally looked for you in every kiss, every hug, every fuck. no one ever came close to the calming water you poured on her raging fire. she could not leave the apartment without, at least, holding your face and kissing you tenderly then passionately.

“i learned to make chai. authentic chai.” your carefully plucked words barely relieves the tension.

sevika tips her head a little. “you did? why?”

you blush and hand sevika her tea. the answer feels rather obvious. “you said whenever we got outta there—you’d make me your amma’s chai.” you stop there. you cannot bring yourself to finish. but you know sevika can deduce and fill in the rest.

“did it help?”

“help with what?”

“help you feel closer to me.”

the words linger between the two of you. sevika’s expertly laid her intentions out with a few words. the bait flops in your hands—far too easy to deny or resist.

you turn your head—finally meeting sevika’s gaze for the first time since she entered the apartment. you expected another cocky smirk. instead you’re met with rounded eyes of vulnerability. they almost pool sevika’s desperation. even if you had planned on lying, on denying the obvious, everything vanished. reflected back at you was the same fifteen year old girl you fell in love with.

“no. no, it didn’t. nothing did.” you whisper out the words. almost believing if you speak the truth you’ll awaken from a beautiful dream.

sevika rests her mug on the coffee table. mindful of the coaster present. you focus on the action but within seconds her hand, no longer on the mug, cups your face. it emanates the lingering warmth from her mug. even without thinking, you reach for her prosthetic arm rested on her lap. you settle it on your other cheek. the balance of cold metal and warm flesh somehow feels symbolic. or maybe you’re searching for too much meaning in reuniting with an old friend…lover?

the magnetic pull draws you both closer until your lips are slotted together. moving in synchronization as if 15 years haven’t passed. as if you didn’t only share one kiss. all the longing and aching over pours into the kiss. your heart somehow thumps rapidly yet feels calm and steady within its cavity. when sevika tenderly swipes her tongue against your plump bottom lip—you know in that instance you’d do anything she wanted.

you graciously part your lips with a whimper. you feel sevika hesitate before she parts your lips by an inch.

“you always sound like that, pretty girl?” sevika barely murmurs the question on your lips.

too impatient to answer or decipher what sevika means, you take the inch of space back and unite your lips once again. sevika laughs into the kiss and indulges the neediness. she is just as desperate, maybe even more. her hands ever so slightly tighten their hold on your face. a tiny whimper escapes once again as sevika tangles her tongue with yours. she responds with a eager grumble of her own.

sevika, testing the waters, pretends to pull away. your lips, without hesitation, chase after hers. you both do this dance until sevika manages to guide you into her lap. any hesitancy dissolves. you are reunited with an old flame and you’re desperate to kindle it and let it burn and consume you. straddling sevika’s hips, panting into the kiss, sevika presses one hand on your lower back—keeping you firmly in place.

letting your body make the decisions, not wrapped in the cloud of lingering doubt, you nip on sevika’s lower lip. sucking flesh between your lips as your tongue strokes the inner softness of her lip. you relish the feeing of sevika’s hand gripping your back. the little groan she emits. her shifting underneath—as if you’re already getting her hot and bothered (you are).

her grip still firm on your lower back—sevika tips her head back on the couch. her eyes remain closed as she processes the weight of her actions and of you in her lap. your own lips tingle as you analyze sevika’s face. a smile stretches on yours as you notice her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. you’re already itching for another kiss. instead, patient as ever, your fingers work to remove the curlers from your hair. it’s no point in pretending you and sevika are not having sex tonight. curlers and sex don’t necessarily pair.

sevika eyes barely manage open as she feels the shift in her lap. she watches in intense fascination as you free your hair. there are varying curl patterns since some curlers where in place longer than others. your fingers delicate despite the slight panting on your chest. your nipples already pert in attention. you do not catch sevika’s gaze until you’re almost done.

she smiles without hesitation the second your eyes meet. her hands begin wandering up your sides. in the wake your camisole rides up with the action. goosebumps populate your skin. your fingers almost tremble pulling the last bobby pin. sevika drags you closer the second the final curl falls. your hair creates a curtain of privacy.

sevika rakes her eyes over the exposed skin and how your camisole rests underneath your breasts. “can i take this off, pretty girl?”

an immediate nod comes from you. “please, yes.”

sevika moans. she moans at your eagerness and how willing you are to trust her. the surprise only lasts momentarily as sevika’s peeling off the tiny fabric. you watch her lips fall apart with a flux of emotions on her face. once the shirt is freed from your hair—sevika opens her mouth to ask for permission.

your hand cradles the back of sevika’s neck and draw her closer to one nipple. “you don’t have to ask permission, sev. i want what you want.”

sevika moans again with the permission. you effortlessly taking control of what you want—turns sevika on more than she’s ready to admit. nonetheless her lips circle around your nipple. her tongue darts around the bud. it earns her the response of you bucking your hips and pushing her closer to your breast. she gladly obliges.

her lips suction your nipple with a little more pressure. a hand comes to cup the neglected breast. palming and kneading with expertise. her large hand encompasses in a way you don’t think any lover has before. her teeth carefully experiment with nibbling on your nipple. you whine in response.

your hips move on their own accord. the combined sensation of teeth, tongue, lips and her hands leaves you desperate and wanting. you relish in the feeling of her jean crotch providing the perfect friction to your needy grinding. sevika groans into your nipple once she connects the dots.

her lips move from your nipple. a string of saliva leaving a connection. she lifts her eyes to yours. a sound traps in your throat seeing the pure need in sevika’s eyes.

hushed and rushed words tumble from sevika’s lips. “i need to make you feel good, baby. please. please can i taste you?”

you are positive sevika’s never had such desperation in her words. because you know no one in their right mind could deny her. but with you…she’s uncertain. the years of yearning bubbling over into this precise moment. you capture her lips in response. trying to say; yes take everything, all you need and want, drink and fill yourself.

with grace of a ballerina—sevika turns the tides and she’s standing with you in her arms, bridal style. you don’t even have the opportunity to be thrown off guard. she moves around your apartment as if she’s walked in this space numerous times. sevika locates your room without instruction.

she lowers you on the bed like a delicate flower. you’re tempted to protest but you give her the grace. you both deserve a tender reunion. sevika hastily steps out of her jeans. she stands before you in her navy boxers and a black shirt. your breathing matches hers with built up tension and anticipation. sevika moves closer to the bed and you begin crawling backwards.

she catches your ankle, shaking her head. “not yet, baby.”

sevika kneels at the edge of the bed on the floor. understanding without her saying much, you position yourself where she placed you before. sevika nuzzles her cheek against the inside of your knee. your fingers find solace in her strands. your nails softly scratching at her scalp. with your soothing yet tingling touch sevika begins her journey of kisses up your thighs. interchangeably switching sides until her lips meet the hem of your shorts.

sevika’s eyes travel the length of your body and her lips spread into a smile as you lift your hips. chuckling lowly, sevika parts with enough space to remove your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. she loses her breathing at the sight of you bare before her. the tussles of hair on your mound travel down to your lips. sevika gently widens your thighs. her action reveals how drenched you are. she can hear the slick separating between your folds. her mouth salivates at the sight and sound.

her hands massage at your thighs eliciting a trembling moan from you. you whimper, looping one leg on sevika’s shoulder. digging the heel of your foot into her shoulder blade to draw her near.

“don’t make me beg, sev. come on…”

sevika groans and circles her arms around your thighs, tugging you closer off the edge of the bed. “i’m sorry, princess. i don’t mean to make you wait. let me fix that.”

she presses a chaste kiss on your clit. you’re about to admonish her for teasing but your words are caught in your throat. sevika roughly drags her tongue up the length of your cunt. she moans deeply as your taste floods her mouth. now paired with your scent, sevika knows she will never get enough. her fingers firmly grip into your thighs and she feasts.

her tongue expertly explores every single inch it can reach. she starts with the languid yet pressured licks. each lick causes you to buck into her mouth. too unaware you could potentially bust her upper lip. not that sevika cares either. she switches her methods and uses the tip of her tongue to tease circles on your clit. she basks in the heavy moan you release as she focuses on your clit. your hips move in faint circles meeting each stroke of her tongue. one hand remains in sevika’s hair—softly caressing her hair or on occasion tugging on the silk-like strands.

sevika whimpers into your cunt as you play with her hair. her whimpers vibrate on your clit in such a sensual way. it produces a high pitched whine that you’ve never heard from yourself. even sevika briefly paused to fully appreciate the noise that graced her ears. nonetheless she returns to worshiping your clit. as she sucks it between her pursed lips, her own hand snakes down into her boxers.

not at all surprised with the pool of her own arousal. her calloused fingers rub an immediate circle around her clit. she’s so wet and sensitive she can barely feel the roughness embedded on her fingertips. but that’s not the stimulation she’s seeking. the second sevika’s tongue dips inside your cunt—her two fingers push past her entrance. you and sevika simultaneously groan. sevika allows you the opportunity to arch off the bed and grind down on her tongue. the warm and wet muscle teasing that special, squishy spot inside of you. her own fingers knuckles deep inside herself.

sevika almost cries into your pussy with the overwhelming sensations. riding her own fingers while you ride her tongue. through the haze in her eyes sevika witnesses the beauty of you chasing your desires. she wants you to topple over on her tongue continuously. if she could, she’d put brush to canvas and honor this moment forever. it only instills in sevika she must never depart from your life again.

your fingers tug sevika’s hair. sevika replies with a whimper and somehow understands the frantic look in your eyes. her lips return to your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. she witnesses your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. her own hips speeding up in hopes of climaxing with you. sevika’s tongue dashes across your clit occasionally intent on seeing you lose control with the added stimulation.

“seeeev!” your back arches off the bed and your thighs squeeze her head in place.

those manicured nails sevika adores so much scrape over her scalp. she moans with the stinging sensation. her fingers make squelching noises as she works them rapidly. you’re too lost in the heights of your climax. unable to register sevika is fucking herself as her mouth sends black spots over your vision.

sevika, relentlessly, obliges after hearing a pleading whimper. her lips leave a departing kiss on your clit before pulling away. but sevika continues grinding on her fingers. she bites into your thigh as she chases her own release. it takes everything in you to prop up on your elbows. your eyes watch in widened excitement.

she catches your gaze and you forget how to breathe. the unadulterated need and yearning in those grey eyes set you off for another round. sevika seems to read your thoughts before they even form. she carefully retracts her fingers then climbs on the bed. sevika helps guide you towards the center of the mattress.

“you flexible, pretty girl?” sevika questions. her soaked fingers teasingly run through your folds.

“depends. why?”

sevika smiles too wide for it being such a loaded question. she spreads your legs wider then hovers a little above you. you instinctively press your hand into the shell of her lower back. urging the woman to apply more of her weight. sevika happily follows the non-verbal instruction. she sighs at the feeling of your body.

her intentions soon become clear as sevika presses her swollen and perturbed clit on your mound. you let out a shaky gasp at the sensation. sevika reaches underneath your knee and lifts your leg on her shoulder. a guttural moan escapes you from the unexpected stretch.

“fuck, i’m sorry, baby. too much? i can stop.” sevika is already attempting to lower the leg.

without hesitation you grab sevika’s wrist and shake your head. “no, please. i need to see you come. please…use me.”

sevika bucks her hips with the unexpected words you bestow on her. she leaves the leg on her shoulder. her works to find the perfect rhythm and fluidity to grind her clit down. she eventually settles on moving her hips up and down. it allows both your clits to feel stimulated when she drags down. her prosthetic fingers dig into your thighs as her hips work in momentum. once you’ve grown accustomed to sevika’s pacing—you lift your hips to meet her halfway.

you almost drool at the sight of sevika’s head thrown back in ecstasy. the rhythmic bumping of your clits. the sensitivity it invokes—one you’re bound to chase for the rest of your life. sevika lets out the tiniest mewl. it sounds so unlike her, you almost question, if it came from you. yet her eyes are half hooded and eyebrows scrunched as if in concentration. a thin layer of sweat shines on her face. she’s majestic.

sevika attempts to focus her gaze on you. a pleading tone laced into her words. “baby…baby…gonna…pl-please…”

you refrain from the shit eating grin wanting to overtake your face. “asking me to come, sevi-baby?”

biting her lip, sevika nods shamelessly, needing the permission. craving the permission from her most special girl. “please…”

“you’re perfect, sevika. i’ve missed you. go ahead, beautiful. come for me. let me see you…”

sevika turns her head into the propped leg on her shoulder and messily kisses the tender flesh. you continue meeting her hips despite sevika forgoing any sort of rhythmic pacing. she whispers incoherent love rambles and gratitude. a moan trapped in sevika’s throat gives away her platitude. she slams her hips into you, as if, coming inside of you.

her body tenses above you right before moans bubble from her lips. eventually her tension alleviates to waves of trembling. you remove your leg from her shoulder and instantly sevika collapses atop of you. her legs slotted with yours. you feel just how wet this ordeal made her.

sevika nuzzles her nose into neck. your fingers trace nonsensical shapes over her back. overtime your hearts sync as you listen to each others breathing.

“my pretty girl…it’ll be until death do us part before we are separated again.” sevika whispers the promise into your neck.

an exhausted yet satiated smile tickles your cheeks. “is that a marriage proposal, sevika?”

sevika cheekily nips the sensitive skin of your neck. “and a promise, sugar.”

I need her to be loyal to me and obviously our future child ….

Ambessa feeding into readers mommy issues… I need

♡ Approval, something you'd constantly demand from any older woman you'd encounter. It was pathetic really, the ongoing desire you'd always have to be reminded that you're enough. And Ambessa, she'd absolutely feed your little comfort seeking heart.

Smiling at you through the crowd, squeezing your shoulders with one hand as she'd pass by you, examining your art crafts with attention and giving detailed comments, brushing your hair gently while massaging your scalp, pinching your nose in a teasing manner whenever you'd get upset over small things.

It was amusing to her really, the way you couldn't hide the sparkle in your eyes whenever she'd slightly praise you, your heart jumping in joy and happiness, the missing places getting filled slowly by her warmth and affection. She knew she was all you'd needed and sought for your whole life, so she was going to grant it generously, knowing how calm and relieved it'd make you.

"You're always so good for me," she'd tuck your hair behind your ears, kissing your forehead making you smile ear to ear. "Wish I'd found you sooner you know" she'd mumble into your ear from behind as you were busy doing your little things, eyebrow frowned in focus. "Relax, little one" she'd touch between your eyebrows with her thumb, making your frown disappear.

She had a habit of showering you with kisses, her soft plump lips traveling on your skin, slowly leaving kisses all over the warmth of your body. It soon turned into a habit, running to her in the middle of the day demanding kisses, to which she'd deliver happily. "Greedy little thing," she'd hum in your neck "You're lucky I love you"

masterlist

Arcane Characters Find Out You Haven't Had Your First Kiss Yet

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, first kiss, flirting, banter, shyness, gentle kissing, musundertsnadings, age-gap, experiance gap

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I have kissed people before and I know I wanna kiss all of them too. They deserve kisses, they need kisses.

"Ya've been starin' at me for an awful long time now. Not that I mind, your eyes are real pretty, sugar. But ya've got me all curious now." Jinx invaded your personal space like it was no big deal and leaned in so you had but inches between you.

You pressed your lips together and fidgeted in your seat. "You... I was wondering have you kissed anyone before?"

"Well here and there but not recently. I've got someone I really wanna kiss now." She pointed at you and tucked a hair behind your ear. "Wanna make out? I don't have any important things to do for a few hours?"

"Few hours? People make out for that long? Wait no, that's not what I want to do. I was curious cause I never kissed anyone and I was wondering if you... maybe wanted to kiss me?" With a slightly bashful tone you met her shiny purple eyes which only seemed to get brighter as she closed in.

"Do I wanna kiss ya? I wanted to since I saw ya! Been waitin' to get asked. Ya know, gentlewoman and all that shit." She wasn't one, not by a longshot but she also knew she could cross boundaries easily, this was one where she was more than willing to wait. "Pucker up quick!" You only had a second to react before harsh lips closed over yours, her thin but strong arms locking you in place on the chair. "Mwah!" Jinx cackled when she pulled back. "There. That's one thing to cross of your list. Can't wait for more." Winking she spun around in her chair and did a little happy dance.

Everyone knew Vi was a bold one, what she wanted she went for, often with little questions asked. She spent the whole date taking initiative, taking your hand, showing you the best places in Zaun, and a few at Piltover too, although she didn't know as many that were cooler than Zaun's. At the end of it she walked your home.

"I live in a safe neighborhood, Vi. There's no need for this." You argued as you fished for your keys to unlock the door. As you did you had full intention to invite her in.

"You never know when someone might try something. You're too cut to pass up on, sweet thing like you, bound to attract eyes. People might get ideas. Like this." Before you knew it, she pressed both hands against your hips and kissed your neck. You nearly dropped the keys when you felt the bolt of excitement run through your body. "See what I mean?"

Gulping you turned your head to hers. "Y-Yeah." She smirked and cupped your chin with the opposite hand, bringing you closer. "Vi, hold on." You turned your head back towards the door. "I never kissed anyone before." The whisper pierced through all the horny energy in Vi's body.

Her hands dropped from your hips. "Oh. Well now I feel like an ass. Since you let me walk you back and all, I thought... sorry I don't know what I thought. Do you want me to leave?" She waited for you to turn around and was surprised when you cupped her cheeks and leaned in. Her eyes widened for a moment before closing, right as your lips met in the middle. The grip on your hips returned, but it wasn't as strong as before. She wasn't the only one who could initiate.

You could look far and wide and you wouldn't find a bigger gentlewoman than Caitlyn. She asked if anything she did was wanted, if it was okay, if you liked it. Some of it came from her Academy days, some from her upbringing but she was never pushy with you.

It was actually you that noticed she was glancing at your lips a little too often while you were helping her sort out through the many documents she apparently had to bring home to work on. "Today was supposed to be our date, seems to me like you're dating your work as much as you're dating me." You teased and watched her huff.

"That is not true. You are infinitely more attractive, darling. I wouldn't kiss the papers but I would kiss you any day." Caitlyn flirted back and set the mentioned papers down. "In fact... I could use a little break from this. And you're right, tonight is our date night. So, tell me," Caitlyn walked up to your side of the desk and leaned on her hands, her face above yours, "would you do me the honor of kissing me?"

A heavy blush bloomed on your face as you felt caught in her crosshairs. When she got serious about something she saw it though until the end. That's how she was looking at you now. "I'd love to kiss you, Cait."

She chuckled at your breathless tone. "I'll go slow. It's your first kiss, right? I figured from the way you'd blush and turn your head when I'd lean in." Her gloved hands slid over your hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. "Close your eyes for me, darling." The moment you did you felt her lips against yours, perfectly falling into place.

"You're joking, aren't you? You haven't kissed anyone? No one? Not even a little?" She tried to hide her amused smile behind her hand but it was futile. You rolled your eyes at Maddie and then threw a pillow in at her head.

"First, how do you kiss someone a little? And second, you know I've barely dated before this. You're the first girl I'm kinda serious about. Thought that waiting to have my first kiss would be... you know romantic?" You shrugged and hugged the other pillow close to your chest. Maddie let out a loud 'awww' and hugged you tight, kissing your cheek.

She laughed when you tried to push her away for making fun of you.

"Now hold on. I think that is really sweet of you, love. Not many people out there have your romatic mind and I love that about you. Also, real sweet that you want to kiss me out of everyone." Her hands pressed upon your shoulders and her smiling face approached yours. "Do I get to do that now or...?"

You could see how eager she seemed now that she learned all this new information. "I mean... if you want." Your hug around the pillow tightened as you tried to will yourself to calm down. On the outside you were calmer, ever pushing back into the kiss, sighing contently against Maddie's lips, but on the inside, you were a damn mess of anxiety. "Shhh, it's just me, remember?" She cooed against your lips and waited for you to relax, massaging your shoulders before leaning in for a second, longer kiss.

This was more of a dare than you wanting to kiss anyone tonight. It wasn't your fault that all your friends knew about your big crush on Ekko and roped you into a game of darts that you lost and therefore had to walk over to him and kiss him. Your friends watched you fumble over to him, all giggling.

Ekko looked at you a little bewildered. "Look, don't ask, this was all their idea." You pointed behind yourself at your friends. "They dared me to kiss you so, if you wanna kiss me... you know, cool

"I've got nothing against kissing you, firefly, but I'm a little confused. Thought you didn't mess 'round with friends like that." Ekko did, you knew but you always thought that if you crossed that line with him there would be no bottling your feelings back up. And standing here in front of him, asking for a kiss, you knew that was true.

"I don't mess around with friends. But they won't leave me alone about not kissing anyone yet and you were the safest bet. Plus..." You moved from foot to foot, like that would shake off your nerves. "I like you, Ekko. As more than a friend. I have for a while."

All the chatter from around the two of you seemed to fall into a void. Ekko opened his mouth to say something but you kissed him before he could, too scared of a rejection and too high strung to think about the fact that you might never get this chance again. But to your surprise he kissed back, his full lips pressing hard against yours. "Thought you'd never come out and say it. Damn, been waiting to hear those words since forever." Ekko hushed against you before he dragged his lips from the corner of your mouth to your ear. "I like you too." He confessed with a whisper.

"Don't you let what those assholes said get to you, darlin', their mouth is bigger than their brain." Vander cleaned the dirty glasses behind the bar as you handed them to him one after another.

You grimaced, remembering all the teasing, quite rude teasing might you add, that you endured before Vander stepped in. "I could have kicked them out myself. Besides what do they care if I'm dating you? Not like you gave me the job because of it." They said a lot more than that but you didn't even want to go through all of it.

"Hey, you do great work here. The kids love you; I love you. All that talk about tradin' favors, bunch of bullshit, that's what it is. Besides, I know you've kept to yourself more than others around here. Got nothin' against that. If anything, makes me a bit nervous. I mean, you really want this old man to be your first at everything?" He scratched the back of your head as he remembered the night when you cuddled and you confessed, he would really be your first everything, not just your first relationship. Since then, he'd been a bit jumpier.

"Vander, you're a bit more than a decade older than me. We're both old. And when you get to my age and you haven't done anything, people talk. So, I can't really blame them for thinking what they do about me getting a job here. It's shitty yeah, but like you said, they're just assholes. I want you to be my first kiss, first everything." You confessed and suddenly you noticed Vander wasn't cleaning glasses anymore. He still had the glass and the rag in his hand but he wasn't moving at all.

You seem to have stunned him with your words. There was an old story you remember, about a kiss breaking a sleeping woman from her slumber. With a cheeky grin you pushed yourself up on the bar to get high enough to kiss him. Vander let out a sound of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. The sound of the glass shattering also shattered the quiet moment you shared and you parted, laughing. "Well, I'll be damned. Seems like there are still things that surprise me."

Silco didn't hear anything from you about the status of you kissing or not kissing anyone. He heard it from Jinx, who heard it from Sevika. And to think one of your best friends would rat you out to her boss' daughter like that. "I'll kill that mouthy bi-" Your threat stopped on your lips, silenced by thin lips. "Silco... what the fuck?"

"What? From how I heard it, you really wanted to kiss me, but were to scared of looking desperate. Best to get things like this over with fast, otherwise they clog up your brain with unnecessary worries." He spoke like a true businessman. And at his core he was one, a corrupted one, and really good at his job.

Still, you looked at him, blinking slowly, still feeling his lips against yours. Your fingertips touched the tingly flesh.

"Silco... that was my first kiss! You asshole!" You pushed him and he did take a few steps backwards. "This is why you can never tell anything to anyone around here!"

Like it was messy he fixed his tie and vest, tugging until they were to his standard again. Then he walked up to you again, his orange eye trained on you like a cat's eye on a little mouse. "Did you hate that I did it? I was never good at asking for permission when I wanted something, or forgiveness. However, if you need an apology from me, I might consider it."

Despite the imposing presence you weren't scared of him at all. "For god’s sake, Silco, I didn't hate it. You could have put more effort in it though. You know, make it more romantic for a lady, sweep her off her feet and take her out to dinner." It was like this man did every romantic thing backwards. He slept with you before he asked you out, he never even asked you out officially, just told you he liked spending time with you, and now this. "You're hopeless sometimes."

When she heard what you said she couldn't help but let out a full belly laugh at it. "Jerk! I'm being serious!" You smacked your fists against her shoulder, which only made the big brawler of a woman laugh more. Sevika never had the most tact or subtlety, or was the best at keeping her emotions in.

"I know you are! Which is why it's so damn funny. I mean shit, sweetheart, haven't kissed anyone? I see you tearing up that dance floor every night with me. You're telling me no one ever got lucky enough to kiss you on the lips? On the other lips maybe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're gross sometimes, you know that." You smacked her on the bicep again, and at the next attempt she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into her lap. Your whole body went hot when her thigh flexed between your legs. "Sevika, what are you up to?"

Sevika grinned wolfishly as her hand grabbed your ass. "I'm about to kiss you. Tell me if you want me to stop." She wasn't exactly asking but she also didn't want to force this on you. When you didn't put up and resistance and tugged her a bit closer by her shirt, she leaned in to capture your lips. Like with everything else she couldn't be gentle, she didn't do gentle. The kiss was rough, passionate, with too much tongue for you who never kissed anyone before. "I'm gonna teach you how to do that better."

"Will you?" You asked all breathless and with wide pupils. One simple kiss made your whole body feel like fireworks were going off. "Better make up for you making fun of me."

Viktor was very perceptive of things that interested him. You were one of those things, even before you became his girlfriend he always listened when you talked about anything. It was his first clue that he liked was in love with you.

He noticed you always seemed to be looking down at his lips more than the things he was writing whenever he was explaining something. "You know, if you want to kiss me, it's as simple as asking." He teased as his fingers traced the pages; he was reading out to you.

"O-Oh. You noticed that did you?" You looked away at the big wall of notes behind him then back at his smiling, knowing face. "Who am I kidding, of course you did. Don't get me wrong, I want to kiss you, Viktor. But I'm also nervous because it'll be my first kiss." He closed the book, with a bit more of a thumping sound than it was warranted. As quickly as he could he crossed the distance between the two of you. His hand lifted yours to his lips.

As shy as he could be with his touches, sparing even, reserved, he found it very easy to touch you and it made your heart skip a few beats every time. Viktor was comfortable with you; he teased you like it was no big deal and would hold your hand when walking through the halls.

"I must confess, darling, I don't have much experience with kissing, or anything of a romantic or intimate nature. I've only been in a few precious relationships before. However, if you allow me, I would love to be your first kiss, today." He emetized the time with a kiss on your fingers, then your knuckles, then across your arm, your jaw. And finally... your lips.

"Do you want to be my first-" You couldn't ask anything more because you heard and saw Jayce drop the hammer he was holding on his foot and was now leaning against his desk, cursing under his breath. "Kiss. My first kiss, Jayce. Get your brilliant mind out of the gutter."

His cheeks got hot when your eyes met across the room. "Your first kiss. Uh... you never kissed anyone before now, babe? Sorry if it sounds like a dumb question but... how? I mean you're the most beautiful, amazing woman I know!"

When he finally put his foot down, confidant that it was okay to do so, he scratched the back of his neck, further adding to his confused look. You sighed. "Thank you for saying all of that. I suppose I wanted it to be special. You told me you've managed to find a breakthrough in your research, so I wanted to reward you, and myself." As you approached him, he got a big, dumb grin that stretched all over his face.

"I see. A reward. If I knew I'd be getting one I'd spend more sleepless nights here." He wrapped his arms around your body when you stepped close and pressed your bodies close.

"No, you wouldn't. I would drag you back to your bed if that's what I had to do to make you sleep properly." And you really would have done that. For right now though Jayce did a good job, and giving him your first kiss was a reward. Jayce approached you slowly, taking great care to be gentle when kissing you, to not get too carried away. He didn't, he kept it to a gentle, long kiss, but quickly got in a few more when you tried to pull away. "You giant dork."

Mel gave you a goodnight kiss but as soon as she felt you stiffen, she pulled back. She frowned when she noticed how nervous you looked. "What's the matter? Darling, are you cold? Your hands are shaking?" She ran her thumbs over the back of your hands.

"Nervous is more like it. That was my first kiss." You said with a shy smile and tried to go in for a second one. But this time Mel stopped you, her hand acting as a barrier between you two. "Hm? What?"

"Your first kiss. And you only tell me that after I've kissed you. Have I known I wouldn't have rushed into it." She sighed heavily and looked almost guilty. She kept replaying her interactions with you in her mind, you were very confident on your date, you flirted with her quite boldly too. And when you kissed her hand, she thought you wanted more.

"What? No, Mel, I'm happy my first kiss was with you! It was perfect!" You quickly spoke up to assure her. "If I didn't want it, I would have stopped you before. But holy crap, do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss you?! I mean honestly, do you! I hardly worked up the nerve to ask you out tonight." You scratched your cheek nervously and avoided her eyes. This felt a little embarrassing to admit when you worked so hard to remain calm and project and air of confidence with her.

Chucking into her hand, Mel cupped your cheek with the other. "Is that so? If that's all then I'm glad. You don't have to pretend with me. I can assure you too, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't have said yes to our date. Much less kissed you. However, if you would allow it, I would like to re-do that kiss." Mel took your chin between her fingers and brushed her thumb against your lower lip, parting your lips just a bit before kissing you again.

Hiiii! Can you do arcane women having “I’m not better than a man” moment?

of course! thank you for the request <3

sunder by hibou on repeat rn

summary; arcane women having an ‘i’m no better than a man’ moment (aka being distracted by your assets).

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie.

tags/warnings; SUGGESTIVE, no explicit nsfw, fluff, mentions of drinking, crack kinda, arcane women being whipped for u

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is a tit girl, no doubt about it. she doesn’t care the size, the shape, how they sit, she’s just utterly obsessed with your boobs. she tries to keep her hands to herself, she really does, but sometimes she just can’t help herself.

✧.* though she does have to show some self-restraint sometimes, as torturous as that is. as much as she'd love to, jinx knows it's probably best that she doesn't smother you and keeps her hands to herself until you're behind closed doors... which makes days like this so difficult.

✧.* today, it's hot out, and zaun gets humid. for that reason it's optimal to dress wisely, you'd picked a simple tank top and pair of loose-fitting shorts in hopes of not sweating yourself half to death. you and jinx had a day planned together, a day of visiting street vendors and exploring the undercity. not much necessarily, but you've found that anything can be fun as long as jinx is around.

✧.* you've run a bit late, and you're internally hoping that your girlfriend won't be mad. she's never exactly punctual herself, but you always feel awful running behind on plans with her. what if she thinks you stood her up, or even left her? though your worries melt off of you as you step into her view, and you see her lips curling into a smile.

✧.* "hey, babe, i'm so sorry for the wait, i was running l-" you're cut off by jinx's index finger on your lips, while her own tug into that grin you've come to love. "don't worry about it, you're here now."

✧.* within seconds, you're grabbing her hand and leading her right into the street market, eager to make up for lost time. jinx thanks janna above that you're preoccupied with looking for a stall to visit, because her gaze is... elsewhere.

✧.* naturally, with it being warmer out today, you'd opted to wear lighter clothing. this included a spaghetti-strap tank top with a very low neckline, where she could see your cleavage just right. her mind immediately went to all the places she knows it shouldn't. you're in public, in broad daylight. but they're right there, and she can't help it.

✧.* what would it look like if you bent over- would they start spilling out? or if you started bouncing on your heels? she thought about how she could see your bra straps, how she might be able to see the clasp from the back. what she'd do to unclasp it right now.

✧.* you pull her to a stall with old records, seemingly donated or imported from piltover. they're not exactly cheap- but still, they're nice to look at. you and your girlfriend have spent many an hour browsing stands like this, with jinx swiping a few vinyls for her stereo more often than not.

✧.* the boxes of records instantly draw you in, all organized by genre and decade. you take a record from one of the first boxes you see, holding it up for jinx- this is one you've been looking for for months, and they have it. finally.

✧.* "baby, look!" you smile, holding the record up. her eyebrows raise, jinx has clearly heard you, but her gaze is... downcast. "uh, babe? what's wrong?" until it clicks. she's looking at your tits.

✧.* "oh- jinx!" you gasp, as one of your hands flies to cover your cleavage. it's a playful gesture, yet still earns a scoff from the girl. she rolls her eyes in response, her voice slightly exasperated. "what? they're right there, and you expect me not to look?"

✧.* this only earns a light shove on the shoulder from you before you return to browsing through records. it's almost comical how hard it is for jinx to resist looking at you like this, but you can't exactly complain.

vi;

✧.* you and vi visit a sports bar in piltover around once a month now. you've made it a routine after she stumbled upon the place by chance, and you both ended up actually enjoying the experience. the bartenders were friendly, the drinks were fairly priced (for piltover), and the patrons were respectful enough.

✧.* it was the same routine: you'd tell vi when you were on your way, she'd swing by your place to pick you up, you'd walk hand-in-hand or with linked elbows to the bar, and you'd have a few hours of fun.

✧.* it's no different this time, with you slipping on a simple yet fun outfit for your night out. vi wasn't ever much of one for dressing up, but she tried for you, and it was always adorable seeing her efforts.

✧.* so when vi shows up at your door and hears a shouted "coming!" from inside, she's rocking back and forth on her heels, anxiously waiting your arrival. she just saw you a few days ago, yet she already misses you- can you blame her?

✧.* you swing the door open with a soft smile on your face, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you make your way down the steps to take vi into your arms, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. "hi, baby," you hum, smiling into the skin. "hi, cupcake. i missed you. you ready?"

✧.* with a nod, the two of you head off. vi had noticed your outfit when you opened the door- a simple lacy tank top with black bell-bottom jeans. it was simple, a bit dressy, but appropriate for the location. yet it wasn't until you turned around to lock the door before taking her hand that she noticed your ass.

✧.* she takes hold of your hand, taking the short walk to the bar with you. though her hand is clammy, more than usual, and she's trying so damn hard to focus on what you're saying to her while she can only think of how incredible you look in those pants. how much better you'd look if she took them off.

✧.* "so then my manager said i needed to ease up on the customers, but i was just being fair! he told them the same thing i did!" "i- yeah, that's not good. not good at all."

✧.* you both arrive at the spot, take your usual place at the bar. the bartender greets you, seemingly a new one- but she seems friendly enough. you both order your usual drinks, but you're still hung up on the work situation you'd been ranting about. you need to get it off your chest, and vi has always been such a good listener.

✧.* with your elbows braced on the bar counter, you turn back to her, "i mean, i just don't understand why the need to be so adamant! i told them that we were out of it, what did they expect?"

✧.* though your girlfriend seems to be distracted still, with her blue eyes fixated.. somewhere else. you can't figure out exactly where, though. snapping your fingers a few inches from her face seems to do the trick, though, as she quickly shakes her head. "huh?"

✧.* "are you listening?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i- yeah, i'm listening! your manager, a customer insisting on something that you don't have, uh..."

✧.* you nod slowly, raising a brow. she's listening enough to catch the gist of it, though the girl's tone is starting to worry on you. still waiting on those drinks, you lean a bit closer. "hey, what's up? is something wrong? you seem kinda distracted."

✧.* it's in that moment that vi feels her heart drop. she's been caught. she has no other option than to simply confess, or that's what she thinks.

✧.* "i'm sorry, it's just... your ass looks really good in those jeans."

✧.* your eyes widen for only a moment, and vi is preparing for the worst to happen. she's never shied from intimacy or letting you know the depths of her attraction, but while you're trying to talk to her? the last thing she wants is to be disrespectful. though what follows isn't you getting up, isn't a scoff or you telling her off. it's a bark of laughter, followed by a gentle shove of the shoulder.

✧.* "come on, you could've just told me that! i knew they were doing something for me, but damn!"

mel;

✧.* mel frequently brings you to gatherings. aside from being an influential councilwoman, she's also something of a socialite. being a woman of high status like herself and having the influence she does, she has to get out, to network, make meaningful connections that will not only help her career, but serve as good friendships.

✧.* and mel has never been shy about you, either. while she believes the personal details of your relationship should be kept private (for the most part), she also adores you, and wants the entire city to see that. it's often that you'll be her date to galas, to conferences, to progress day celebrations of all kinds.

✧.* when your girlfriend invites you along to a cocktail party, it's nothing out of the ordinary. she tells you that the dress code is formal, the venue is small yet still lavish- as always. she'll arrange transportation for you, and meet you in the lobby so you can go together.

✧.* choosing a dress certainly took time, though it was an effort you enjoyed. you'd never been one for events or clothes like this before meeting mel, but getting to be part of her world was fun. seeing the life of a powerful politician and socialite like herself was exciting, something entirely new to you.

✧.* you didn't see the point in buying outfits you'd only wear once, though, so you took to rentals for these events. deciding on a cocktail dress proved a bit more tricky than others, but you managed after several hours of trying on garments, switching sizes, checking price tags, and asking for second opinions from shop attendants. a long satin dress in a dark color with a slit up the right side. not too pretentious for an event like this, but far from casual.

✧.* after arriving at the venue, you'd taken a moment to simply take in your surroundings. white marble floors, gold accents on the doorways, marble pillars and framed portraits in the lobby. the attention to detail in this place was nothing short of incredible.

✧.* "there you are," you hear from behind you, prompting you to turn over your shoulder. a smile tugs at the corner of your lips the moment you recognize who it is. "i couldn't find you. i was getting worried."

✧.* mel places a light kiss on both cheeks, before pulling back to take your hand. though as she pulls back, she can't help noticing the slit up your dress, and just how high it runs. it stops just below your hip, and shows off the smooth skin below when you step to the side. it's tantilizing.

✧.* though she's a professional. she swallows, she rolls her shoulders back, and leads you into the main room. she has to keep herself under control- not just for your sake, but for the public's. what would the other guests do if they saw her looking at your legs like that?

✧.* and still, with a cocktail in one hand and her own hand in the other, even as you're making small talk with other guests, mel can't help her wandering eyes. lingering on that oh so high opening along your dress. her mind drifts to what's under that, how much she'd love to tear that dress off of you right now- but she can't. so she takes a quick sip of her drink, and tries to distract herself.

✧.* yet as soon as you notice exactly where her eyes are, you can't help the low chuckle that escapes you as you teasingly stick your leg out just a little more, revealing that much more of your upper thigh. "distracted, miss medarda?"

✧.* "i'm not distracted," she protests, but you can hear the hitch in her breath when you step out just that bit more. "gods, that isn't fair."

✧.* you only roll your eyes in response, giving her hand a firm squeeze. "save it for later," you whisper. a promise- something to look forward to. "we've gotta behave for now."

✧.* mel isn't able to focus on much else for the rest of the night, to say the very least.

sevika;

✧.* you and sevika live together, for the most part. although you've still got your own place that you pay rent on, you're at sevika's more often than not. it's small, rather run-down and cramped, but it's home. she keeps it clean, keeps your belongings around so that it feels more familiar, even started burning candles once you started coming around for a more welcoming atmosphere. she cares, she truly does.

✧.* though there are some times you want to take some time to yourself. sevika gets it. she's been by herself for much of her life, and the only person occupying her living space would be her. if you need a day or two every few weeks to yourself, then so be it.

✧.* you parted with a kiss to her cheek, and a whispered, "i'll be back, baby." she has your number, so it's not like you won't be talking- and your address, in case of an emergency.

✧.* the two days you took to yourself were uneventful, spent relaxing. you'd read a book, cleaned the place, caught up on laundry, rearranged furniture (several times, out of indecisiveness) and called your girlfriend at odd hours of the night to hear her rough voice. though you decided it was time to go back once you noticed there was nothing left to do, nothing you wanted to do. you enjoyed your own company, but you were ready to be in sevika's.

✧.* you'd worn a simple bralette and pair of sweatpants to her doorstep, your overnight bag slung over your shoulder. you clicked your key into the lock, slowly pushing the door open and stepping into the living room. you never had to announce yourself, sevika was usually there.

✧.* though as she looks up from the book she's reading, you swear you can see her eyes widen. if only for a moment. it's unclear what exactly they're focused on, but you assume it has something to do with your choice of outfit.

✧.* "sorry, didn't feel like a shirt today," you chuckle, situating yourself next to sevika on the couch. placing your overnight bag on one of her side tables, you look up at her, and now you see. now you can see very clearly that your girlfriend's light eyes are lingering on your breasts, and the fact that the lace of the bralette is rather... sheer.

✧.* "yeah, uh- don't worry about it," she mutters, her eyes flitting to the side. for the love of janna, you've just gotten back. she can't be all over you right now. "you... you can start unpacking, if you want."

✧.* you cast her a sidelong glance, though slowly get up from the couch. you take the bag and unzip it, beginning to take out some clean clothes you've brought and turning on your heel to put them away in her room. yet still, you feel sevika's gaze lingering on you. on your tits.

✧.* "that distracting, huh?" you tease, casting a look over your shoulder. sevika lets out a heavy sigh, but nods- there's no point in denying it. she's never been particularly shy about her fondness for your boobs, either. "yeah. something like that."

caitlyn;

✧.* you and caitlyn have a dinner date planned tonight. it's the day before your anniversary- you would've loved to celebrate on the actual day, but something that your girlfriend couldn't get out of came up at work. though it wasn't ideal, you understood. you still have today to celebrate, don't you?

✧.* so naturally, you pulled one of your best dresses from your closet to wear. a light color that compliments your complexion, something simple enough that it's not too much for a restaurant- but still formal enough for the occasion.

✧.* caitlyn had also taken care to wear one of her best dresses, style her hair, do her makeup in a way she knew would draw you in (despite you thinking she's beautiful no matter what she does).

✧.* you'd agreed to meet each other at the place, but caitlyn had taken care to make sure it was within walking distance from both of you. the attention your girlfriend paid to detail never ceased to amaze you, neither did her consideration.

✧.* upon arriving at the restaurant, you take a few moments waiting. you sit down on one of the benches offered, patient, until a hostess spots you and asks if you need help. you inform her that you're waiting for somebody, only to be told that caitlyn is already sat at your table. you're at the table within seconds.

✧.* "i'm so sorry, i didn't keep you waiting, did i?" you breathe out, slinging your bag over the back of the chair. "not at all," she assures, giving a gentle smile. her piercing blue eyes soften every time they fix on you, something you've come to know and love. "i got here early, anyways. i'm just glad you're here."

✧.* but before you sit down, cait's eyes travel down, down, to your hips. the way the dress you chose perfectly hugs them and accentuates the curve. she's always had such a weak spot for those hips, and this dress isn't helping.

✧.* "...you look beautiful, by the way," she says, clearing her throat shortly thereafter. you're in public, caitlyn, behave yourself. she orders her food, she makes small talk with you over your drinks, she makes a point to try and distract herself with the fact it's your anniversary. this is a refined celebration, anything else can wait for later.

✧.* and it's working, until you tell your girlfriend that you have to go to the bathroom quickly, you'll be back. you step out to the side to get up, and her eyes are immediately drawn back to your hips and just how incredible they look in that dress. then you turn to walk in the direction of the bathroom, she sees them sway, and caitlyn is gone. her mind wanders to how they'd look if she pulled your skirt up just that bit, or how they'd look bent over her desk.

✧.* caitlyn tries to finish her meal in peace, she really does. but she finds it increasingly difficult with just how distracted she is. once you return, she's flushed, she's playing with her food, she's stumbling over her words. "cait, baby, is everything alright?"

✧.* "mhm. yes, yes, everything is wonderful. don't worry about me," she rushes out, taking a quick bite of her food. though something tells you she's not telling the full truth- but by the flush dusting her cheeks and the tips of her ears, you have a feeling you'll find out later.

maddie;

✧.* you and maddie have frequent sleepovers, alternating between your own apartment and hers. it's a routine of sorts: maddie will come to your place after work with a bag full of her things for the night, greet you with a kiss on the cheek and a firm embrace. she often brings gifts for you as well: little things. snacks, a bracelet she saw while window shopping, the likes.

✧.* today is no different. maddie had to take a double at work, so she's taking a bit longer than usual, but this isn't out of the ordinary. being a junior officer is nothing if not time-consuming. until then, you've decided to occupy yourself by making dinner for your girlfriend. she's done all this work, she deserves it- besides, you know she'd do the same for you.

✧.* it's rather late, you having already showered and changed into your pajamas. you've eaten your dinner, now it's just a waiting game for your girlfriend.

✧.* as soon as maddie walks in the door, she's hit by the aroma of dinner cooking. her favorite, too. it's a familiar smell, and makes her all the more eager to finally see you. though when she walks into the kitchen, she sees you in a loose tee, and... sleep shorts. tight ones, that hug the shape of your ass just right. maddie's always had something of a dirty mind, and it immediately goes to all the things she could be doing with that ass. but she hasn't even said hello yet.

✧.* so she forces herself to reign it in, snaking her arms around your waist from behind. the girl rests her chin on your shoulder, gently brushing her lips against your temple. "hi, gorgeous," she hums, nestling a bit closer to you. "sorry i took so long."

✧.* you shake your head, giving her a reassuring smile before kissing her cheek in return. "don't worry about it. i know how work is. dinner's almost ready, okay?"

✧.* she nods in response, but doesn't loosen her grip on you. she's glad you're doing this for her. you've always been so thoughtful, so sweet when it comes to her, but still, her mind keeps going back to how incredible you look in those shorts. how badly she wants to take them off.

✧.* once you announce that dinner is ready and set down a steaming plate on the table, maddie reluctantly pulls herself from you to sit down. she starts eating, of course. she's grateful for what you've done for her. "i'm gonna clean up a bit, okay?" you hum, before turning back to the counter, and maddie nearly chokes.

✧.* she's watching you move swiftly throughout the kitchen- wiping down the counter, organizing spices, washing dishes, cleaning cabinet handles. yet she's not watching any of the actual tasks, only the way you look in those little sleep shorts. good gods.

✧.* but you can feel her gaze on you from behind, searing into you. burning, almost. without turning around, you pause at one of the cabinets. "...you're staring," you state. not a question, but an observation. "is it that interesting?"

✧.* maddie takes a moment to swallow, slowly shaking her head as if you could see her. "not exactly, just... you look amazing in those shorts, yeah?"

‘cause i hate to wait so long

★vi x f!reader

part one

wc: 4.9k

cw: hurt/comfort

notes: tried my best to make the transition to the end smooth, and i liked how it turned out, kinda get vi on an astronomical level on this fic lol 🫢

It had been a great weekend. The two of you traveled to see your parents, and as always, your mom loved Vi. Sometimes, you swore she liked Vi even more than she liked you. Every time you called to say you were visiting, she asked what dessert Vi wanted and happily made it just for her.

Being back in your hometown meant running into old friends—and with old friends came old flings.

But even though you and Vi had to stand through a thirty-minute conversation with your high school ex in the middle of a bakery, you thought everything was fine. Vi hadn’t seemed particularly bothered at the time, so when you got back home and she started acting off, you assumed it was something else. Probably work.

She had been sharing a studio with some new guy who got on her nerves, and you had heard her complain about indecisive clients more times than you could count.

You weren’t worried.

Not at first.

But then, the little things started piling up.

She left your messages on read for days. She made excuses to avoid staying the night. She canceled plans at the last minute.

And now, standing in her studio, watching her avoid your gaze, you knew.

“Vi,” you started carefully, hands shoved into your pockets, “is there something you want to talk about?”

She shrugged, still not looking at you. “I don’t know. You’re the one who came over unannounced.”

Her tone was flat, detached, and it sent an uneasy feeling crawling up your spine.

“I came over because you’ve been acting weird,” you said, voice steady, but your heart was anything but. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I want to know why.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff.”

But you knew her. And this wasn’t just work stuff.

So you took a step closer, crossing your arms. “Vi.”

Vi finally looked at you then, and something flickered in her expression—something tired, something unsure.

“What?” she asked, her tone sharp, irritated.

You ignored it. You weren’t sure what was happening, and the last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a fight if it didn’t have to.

“Just tell me the truth,” you said, voice careful but firm. “Please.”

She exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“I…” She looked away, shaking her head. Then, quieter, “Do you miss her?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your ex,” she said, voice clipped. “You know, the one we ran into last weekend.”

You frowned, utterly confused. “Miss her? Vi, what the hell are you talking about?”

Vi let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair. “She just seemed so... put together,” she muttered. “Talking about her medical degree, how she wanted to travel the world. And I don’t know, I just thought—” She cut herself off, shoulders tensing. “I just thought maybe you should be with someone like her.”

Your head jerked back like she had slapped you.

“Are you serious right now?” You scoffed, a disbelieving laugh escaping before you could stop it. “Vi, you hate when people put words in your mouth, and now you’re doing the same damn thing to me?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m just saying it makes sense! She has her shit together, she knows exactly what she wants in life, she doesn’t—” She stopped, jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscles twitch.

“She doesn’t what?” you pressed, stepping closer. “Say it.”

Vi hesitated, then finally snapped, “She doesn’t come with all the baggage I do, okay?”

You stared at her, stunned.

“This again?” Your voice was rising now, frustration boiling over. “Vi, do you ever get tired of pushing me away before I can even think about leaving?”

“I’m not pushing you away!”

“The hell you aren’t!” You threw your hands in the air. “Every single time we get close, really close, you find some reason to run. And now? Now you’re making up some bullshit excuse about my ex to convince yourself that I’d be better off without you?”

Vi’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t deny it.

You let out a humorless laugh. “Unbelievable. You know what, fine. If that’s what you really want, if you actually think I’d be happier with someone else, just say it. Say you don’t want me.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms, your jaw tight with frustration. “Go on. Say it, Vi.”

Her eyes burned as she snapped back, her voice rising. “You know you would!” She let out a harsh breath. “It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact! I’m not good for you! You just said it yourself—I keep finding reasons to push you away. Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t hear the shit my own mind tells me every single day?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe we should just end this now. Before either of us gets hurt.”

That did it.

Your anger flared, white-hot, because how dare she?

Like you weren’t already hurting.

Like you weren’t already attached.

Like your mom didn’t greet her with a smile and a homemade chocolate cake every time you visited.

“You always say that,” you spat, voice shaking. “Like it’s some kind of mercy. Like you’re doing me a favor. Before we get hurt? Vi, I’m already hurt!”

She flinched, but you didn’t stop.

“I have never once doubted my feelings for you. Not for a second. But you? You doubt everything. You push me away and then act like it’s inevitable. Like you’re just sparing me from some big, tragic heartbreak when the only person breaking my heart right now is you.”

Her breathing was ragged, hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she didn’t interrupt.

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “You know what? Fine. If you think this is the right thing to do, if you really believe I’d be better off without you, then I won’t fight you on it anymore.”

You turned, yanking open the studio door. But before you stepped out, you hesitated—just long enough to deliver one last blow.

“Hope you’re finally free from me.”

And then you walked out, slamming the door behind you.

There were a lot of things in life you weren’t sure about.

Like whether the degree you earned was what you actually wanted to do for the rest of your life. Or what you were going to have for dinner. Or if you’d ever figure out how to fold a fitted sheet properly.

But you were sure about Violet.

You were sure she was the love of your life.

You were sure that one day, you would marry her. That you’d grow old together. That maybe—maybe—you’d even have kids, even though that was one of the things you weren’t sure about.

Even with everything life threw your way, you were sure about her.

But sometimes, love isn’t enough.

No matter how much you give, no matter how patient you are, no matter how many times you try to show them—I’m here. I’m not leaving. Please, just let me love you!—it doesn’t always work.

Because love is a two-way street, and if one person keeps building walls instead of bridges, eventually, you run out of ways to reach them.

You had tried. God, had you tried.

You stayed through every storm, through every fight, through every moment she tried to push you away. You picked up the pieces when she shattered, even when it meant cutting yourself on the shards.

But there’s only so much a person can take.

There are only so many times you can be pushed away before you finally stay away.

And as much as you hated proving her right, after the hundredth time she told you to leave—you did.

And it was the worst pain of your life. Worse than that time you tried to ride your pink bicycle down a hill and broke both of your arms. Worse than any heartbreak you’d ever imagined.

Because she was supposed to be your forever.

──────────────────────

Vi would be lying if she said that after your awful encounter at the coffee shop, she didn’t wait for you to call her—maybe to yell at her some more, to say all the things she knew she deserved to hear.

Because even if that was the only thing she could get from you, she would take it.

Anything was better than the silence.

But you didn’t call. You didn’t text.

And she understood why. She wasn’t stupid. If she didn’t try, you couldn’t keep trying for her.

She just didn’t know how.

Vi had spent her whole life in survival mode—fighting, running, enduring. She knew how to throw a punch, how to take a hit, how to push people away before they could hurt her first.

But feelings? Talking? Healing?

She didn’t know what any of that looked like.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She screwed things up a little bit more.

Yes, resorting to drinking wasn’t healthy. No, it wouldn’t solve her problems. But it would make them go away for a while, and right now, that was all she needed.

That’s how she found herself in the nearest nightclub she could find, a whiskey glass in her hand, watching as colorful lights flashed around her. The bass pounded through her chest, drowning out the thoughts she didn’t want to deal with.

“Rough night?”

Vi barely turned her head as some random red head slid into the seat next to her at the bar. She was pretty, in that effortless kind of way, with a confident smirk that told Vi exactly what she was after.

“You could say that” Vi muttered before downing the rest of her drink.

The girl leaned in, her fingers ghosting over Vi’s bicep. “Well… maybe I can make it better.”

Once upon a time, Vi might have taken her up on that offer. A distraction, a warm body, something to make her forget for just a little while.

But the only touch she craved—the only lips she wanted—weren’t here.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Not tonight.”

The girl pouted, but she didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

As she walked away, Vi signaled the bartender for another drink. Because if she couldn’t have you, she could at least have the illusion of feeling something.

──────────────────────

You were woken up by the sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand. Groaning, you reached for it without much thought, still half-asleep.

“Hello?”

At first, all you could hear on the other end was breathing—slow, uneven.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

A beat of silence. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Can you open your door, please?”

Vi.

You sat up instantly, now fully awake. “Vi? What are you talking about? It’s three in the morning.”

“I just—” A loud thud echoed through the phone, followed by a muffled, “Fuck.”

Your brows furrowed. “Vi, what the hell was that? Where are you?”

“I just need to talk to you” she mumbled, her words slightly slurred. “Please. You can yell at me all you want, I just… I just want to hear your voice.”

You ran a hand down your face, exhaling sharply. “Are you drunk right now? Seriously?”

Silence. Then, barely above a whisper—

“Yeah.”

You closed your eyes, gripping the bridge of your nose. The last thing you wanted was to let her back in after everything, after the pushing and pulling, after the damage she’d done. But a bigger part of you—the part that still ached for her, that never stopped worrying—was already swinging its legs out of bed and heading for the door.

You cracked it open, and there she was.

Vi stood in your doorway, hood up, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket like she was trying to make herself smaller. Even in the dim glow of the hallway light, you could see the exhaustion in her face—red-rimmed eyes, the way her shoulders sagged like she was holding the weight of the world.

“You look like shit” you muttered.

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah. Feels like it too.”

You should’ve slammed the door in her face. You should’ve told her to go home, sleep it off, leave you alone.

Instead, you stepped aside.

“Come in.”

And she did, wobbling slightly as she walked in.

She looked so out of place in your living room. The red jacket she always wore stood out against the neutral tones of your space—like a warning sign, like a memory that never quite faded.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way your heart clenched at the sight of her. “What do you want, Vi?” You didn’t even try to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “Why are you here?”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally meeting your eyes for the first time since she arrived.

“I don’t know” she admitted, voice rough, unsteady. “I was supposed to go home. I was going home, and then I just… got here.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s not an answer.”

Vi winced, shifting on her feet like she was struggling to find the right words. But words were never her strong suit, were they? She had always been better with actions—though most of them were reckless and self-destructive.

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t fair.

After everything she’d said, after everything she’d done—after making you leave—she still expected you to be here, to pick up the pieces when she was falling apart.

"You don't get to do this, Vi” you whispered, barely trusting your voice. "You don’t get to throw me away and then show up at my door like I’m supposed to fix you."

Her breath hitched. "I know. I know, and I’m—" She hesitated, the words getting stuck in her throat. "I fucked up, okay? I fucked up so bad, and I don’t know how to fix it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the sting behind your eyes.

"But I want to…"

You could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Vi cry. And most of those times had been involuntary—after waking up from a nightmare, lost in the haze of half-conscious panic, when her body betrayed her before her mind could shut it down.

But now, she was standing in your living room, crying. Her shoulders shook, and she wiped furiously at her eyes, like she was trying to erase the evidence of her own weakness.

"I've said it before, but it's true this time. I promise." Her voice cracked—raw, desperate. "And you can yell at me all you want. You can throw every awful thing I said back in my face, because I would rather have you angry at me than this." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Being apart hurts. The silence is killing me.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to steady yourself. This isn’t fair.

"You think I wanted to leave?" you asked, voice quiet but firm. "You think I wanted to spend nights wondering if you were okay, if you were sleeping, if you were eating? Do you know how many times I almost called you?"

Vi's lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"I loved you, Vi. And I spent so much time trying to prove to you that I wasn't going anywhere. But no matter how much I tried, you never let me in."

"I was scared" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know" you said. "I know. And I still tried. But you made me believe that I was never going to be enough for you."

Vi took a step closer. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" you asked, shaking your head. "You were scared I would leave, but you were the one who kept pushing me away. Over and over again."

Vi exhaled shakily, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"I want to be better," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to keep ruining things." She looked at you, her expression open—vulnerable in a way you weren’t sure you'd ever seen before. "And I don’t know if I deserve another chance, but if there’s even the smallest part of you that thinks I do…"

She hesitated.

"Then I’ll spend every day proving to you that I can be better."

Your heart felt like it was being crushed. You loved—love—Vi. You always have, and you probably always will. But feeling so insecure, so scared all the time that you would wake up one day and she would just decide this was over, made you think twice.

"I… I love you. I really do." Your voice wavered as you let out a humorless laugh. "You were the only thing I was ever certain about in my life. You were my forever."

Vi took a step closer, her breath hitching. "I still am…"

"How can I be sure?" Your voice cracked, anger and exhaustion mixing into one. "How can I know that you won’t wake up one day and decide that I’m too good for you? That you don’t deserve me? Or some other crazy shit your brain makes you believe—and just leave? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?"

Vi flinched, guilt flashing across her face.

As much as you tried not to be angry—because she was drunk, because she was vulnerable—you were only human.

"I know you're scared" you said, your voice tight. "I know you think you aren’t worthy of my love. But have you ever stopped to think about how I feel?"

She stayed silent.

"When you look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just like everyone else? That I’ll leave? That I’ll hurt you?" You shook your head, your nails digging into your palms. "Do you think so little of me?"

Vi's lips parted, but no words came out. All she could do was stare at you, her blue eyes filled with regret, sorrow, and something deeper—something she wasn’t sure how to voice.

And for the first time, maybe ever, you saw it hit her. The weight of what she had done. The hurt she had caused. The damage she had left in her wake.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her own emotions. Quiet tears still flowed down her face, unchecked. “I’m sorry I hurt you so bad, but I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll do anything and everything in my power to never make you feel like that again.”

You let out a deep breath, the anger you felt still simmering in your gut.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Your voice was tired, drained. “When you’re sober and I’m not angry anymore?”

Vi nodded, quickly, almost desperately. And the look in her eyes made you doubt everything all over again. It was like she had this power over you—one puppy dog-eyed look and you were gone.

But you couldn’t let that sway you. Not again.

“You can sleep on the couch” you said, turning away before she could break you down any further. “I’ll get you some blankets.”

Vi stood there for a moment, watching you disappear down the hall. She wanted to convince you that she meant it this time. That she wasn’t going to run, wasn’t going to push you away again.

But after everything she had done, after all the times she had broken your heart—what right did she have to ask you to believe her?

So she didn’t. She just sat down on the couch, burying her face in her hands, listening to the sound of you rustling through the closet.

Hoping—praying—that when morning came, you’d still listen to her.

──────────────────────

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night tossing and turning in your bed, too aware of the woman in your living room, too aware of the decisions you had to make. The weight of it all pressed down on you, the endless cycle of pushing and pulling, of loving and hurting. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes, then the hours, as your mind ran in circles.

You tried to convince yourself that it was simple. That love should be enough. If you loved each other, you should just betogether—happy, whole, like life was a perfectly wrapped gift waiting to be opened.

But life wasn’t a fairytale, and love wasn’t always the answer.

That was never the question in your relationship. You knew Vi loved you. And she knew you loved her. But love alone couldn’t erase the damage, the doubts, the nights spent wondering if she would hurt you again. Love couldn’t fix the way she closed off the moment things got hard, or how you were always left picking up the pieces.

You turned onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow with a frustrated sigh. Sleep wasn’t coming—not when your mind was a storm of thoughts crashing into each other.

Lying there, restless, wasn’t helping. So you got up, dragging your feet to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would bring you the clarity you needed, even if it meant breaking your self-imposed caffeine ban.

You had just poured yourself a mug when a voice made you jump.

“I thought you were trying to quit coffee.”

Vi stood at the kitchen entrance, her hair a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep. In the dim morning light, she looked softer—almost like the Violet you used to know, before everything fell apart.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, wrapping your hands around your mug for warmth, “I couldn’t sleep, so I kind of need this right now.”

You took a sip without thinking, the heat grounding you for a moment—until your eyes landed on the words printed on the ceramic.

World’s Best Girlfriend.

Your stomach twisted. She had gotten it for you on your birthday, grinning as she handed it over, laughing about how “cheesy” it was. At the time, it had been a joke. Now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

Vi’s gaze flickered to the mug in your hands, and for a second, you thought you saw something break behind her eyes.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to act normal, pretending it didn’t sting as much as it did. You gestured toward the cabinet. “You know where the mugs are if you want some.”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Yeah… okay.”

She moved across the kitchen, opening the cabinet with an ease that shouldn’t have felt so natural anymore. As if she had never left. As if she still belonged here.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, but neither of you knew how to break it.

So you just stood there, eyes locked, memories playing like an old film reel in your mind.

You remembered the time Vi tried to bake you a cake for Valentine’s Day, how the middle was still raw, and you both ended up eating the edges with spoons, laughing the whole time. You remembered that one New Year’s Eve when you sat on the kitchen floor, eating instant noodles and drinking cheap champagne because the party you were supposed to go to had been a bust. You remembered the lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the way she used to sneak up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist as you made coffee.

But you also remembered the fights. The slammed doors. The cabinets shut with a little too much force. The nights spent crying, feeling like the love you had wasn’t enough to keep her.

Vi exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. “Do you remember that time you got a little too invested in sourdough and kept trying to make a starter? And you read somewhere that keeping it in a warm place helped, so you left it in the oven?” She gave you a small, lopsided smile. “But then you forgot about it and preheated the oven for something else, and the house smelled like burned bread for a week?”

A surprised laugh burst out of you, unbidden. “God, yes.” You groaned, shaking your head. “And then you made it worse by trying to air it out with a box fan, but all it did was spread the smell into every room?”

Vi chuckled, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “In my defense, I thought it was a solid plan.”

You snorted, taking another sip of coffee. “It was a terrible plan.”

The moment lingered, stretching between you like a fragile thread. For a second, it almost felt like things were normal, like the past few months hadn’t happened.

But they had.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, like you were afraid of the words themselves—afraid she would hear them, afraid she wouldn’t. “I missed you every single second.”

Vi sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching at her sides, like she wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if she was allowed to.

You set your mug down with a quiet clink, steadying yourself. You were done crying. You had spent too many nights crying over this already.

“And I spent the whole night weighing the pros and cons of this relationship. I just…” You swallowed, gripping the edge of the counter. “I’m so scared, Violet.”

Your voice cracked on her name, and Vi flinched like you had physically struck her.

“I know,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours. “I am too.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re both too scared. Scared to lose each other, scared to stay, scared that loving each other won’t be enough.”

Vi took a hesitant step forward. “But I don’t want to be scared anymore,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “I don’t want to keep pushing you away just because I think it’s easier than letting you stay. I just—” she exhaled, shaking her head, “I just need to know if there’s even a chance. Even the smallest chance that you’ll give me one more shot.”

You stared at her, at the woman you had loved for so long, the one who had broken your heart and was now standing before you, asking for another piece of it.

And the worst part?

You wanted to give it to her.

So you nodded, hesitantly, barely daring to breathe. “I don’t want to regret this, Vi. I’m exhausted from this push and pull. But I love you too much to let you go.”

Vi’s lips parted slightly, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then, slowly, a smile broke across her face—small, hesitant, but real.

“Maybe it’s a little selfish. Maybe I’m insane” you admitted, exhaling shakily. “But yes, I’ll give you one more chance.”

Vi let out a breath she had been holding, something like relief flashing across her face. “I won’t waste it,” she swore, stepping closer, cautious but hopeful. “I swear on—” she let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head, “on every bad decision I’ve ever made, I won’t waste it.”

You arched a brow. “That’s a lot of bad decisions, Vi.”

She laughed, and the sound was so familiar, so her, that your chest ached. It was the same laugh that used to fill your apartment, the same one that made you fall in love with her in the first place.

“Yeah, well… I guess I have a lot to make up for.”

You studied her for a long moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt, any crack in the resolve she was promising you. But all you found was sincerity—raw and unfiltered, painted across her expression in a way that made it impossible to doubt her.

So, once more, you let yourself believe her.

And when she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, you let yourself melt into her.

Like you always did, like you always would.

Her grip on you was firm but not desperate. Not like she was afraid you would slip away—more like she was certain she wouldn’t let go this time. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, her face tucked against your shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she breathed.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a single moment of peace.

“But I’m still mad at you,” you muttered, your voice muffled by her body against yours.

Vi let out a breathy chuckle, the sound vibrating against you. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’d be mad at me too.”

She didn’t try to defend herself, didn’t try to justify the things she had done. She just held you, letting the weight of everything settle between you.

And somehow, despite all the pain, all the uncertainty—she knew, deep in her bones, that everything was going to be okay.

──────────────────────

Ambessa and reader who has mommy issues? Mostly in the sense that their mother blamed not being able to live her own life on reader and it shows with a need for validation and praise, extremely touch-starved yet touch-repulsed due to how foreign it feels?

Touch

I have mommy issues. I'm projecting <3

Contains mentions of parental abuse, mommy issues!r

The first time Ambessa Medarda laid a hand on you, you flinched. It was barely a touch—just the back of her fingers ghosting over your jaw as she tilted your face upward—but your whole body locked up, breath halting like an animal caught in a snare.

Ambessa withdrew immediately, her golden eyes sharp and assessing, but she made no comment. Instead, her fingers drifted away as if she hadn’t noticed the way the you had recoiled from something so simple.

She knew better than that.

She noticed everything.

Ambessa was not a woman who pried. She was patient—not in a way that was gentle, but in the way a predator knew when to bide its time. She let the you orbit around her, let you take the space you needed. She did not demand. Did not push.

It was infuriating.

Because that was all you had ever wanted. Space. Permission. Someone who didn’t see you as a burden, a weight shackled to their ankles, keeping them from flight.

Your mother had always made sure she knew.

"You ruined my life."

"I could have been something if it weren’t for you."

"Do you know what I sacrificed?"

It hit hard.

You grew up knowing you were an obligation, not a daughter. That your presence was something to endure, not cherish. And it showed in the way you sought approval like a starving thing, the way you craved warmth and shrank from it in the same breath.

It made no sense.

Or maybe it did.

You had learned that love was something conditional, something that had to be earned with good behavior, with silence, with obedience.

And touch… touch had been nothing but a means to an end. A slap to silence you.

A hand squeezing her wrist too tightly when you stepped out of line. A perfunctory pat on the head when your mother remembered she was supposed to pretend.

Nothing about it had ever meant comfort.

So why was it different with Ambessa?

Why did it burn through you like an ember catching dry wood, leaving you both raw and wanting?

"You hold yourself like you are bracing for war," Ambessa observed one night, her voice low, considering.

You were in the privacy of her chambers, where the rest of the world could not reach. Ambessa sat in her chair, legs spread comfortably, a glass of wine held and tilted between thick fingers.

She was relaxed, but there was something in her gaze—something that pinned you to the spot like a blade to the throat.

You exhaled slowly, a forced breath. "That’s just how I am."

Ambessa hummed, unconvinced. "No. It is how you were made to be."

You stiffened. Looked away. Ambessa did not press.

Instead, she set her glass down, pushed to her feet, and approached slowly, deliberately. She always moved like this around you—never sudden, never careless. It made something inside you clench.

When she stopped in front of you, she didn’t touch. She simply looked down at you, a titan made of flesh and steel, war-hardened and unshakable.

"Tell me," Ambessa said, voice quieter now. "What would happen if I touched you?"

Your throat went dry. Your hands curled into fists.

"I don’t know."

Ambessa’s brow lifted, but she nodded. "Then let’s find out."

She raised a hand, slow and open, giving you every opportunity to step away. When you didn’t, Ambessa’s palm came to rest against her cheek, warm and solid. But it wasn't a slap.

It was soft, caressing.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your instinct was to pull back, to flee—but you didn’t. You stood frozen beneath the weight of Ambessa’s touch, overwhelmed by how foreign it felt. There was no demand in it. No expectation. No hidden blade beneath the surface.

Just warmth.

Your lips trembled. Ambessa’s thumb brushed over your cheekbone, barely there, and you shuddered.

"You are touch-starved," Ambessa murmured, more statement than question.

You girl bit your bottom lip. Swallowed hard. "It feels—" your voice faded.

Ambessa’s hand did not leave your face. "Unfamiliar things are not always bad."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to shove the touch away before it dug too deep, before it uncovered the ache you had spent years trying to bury.

But you didn’t.

Not this time.

Sevika who covers you with her poncho on cold nights catches a cold herself and you end up nursing her (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

Keep me warm baby.

Sevika × Fem Reader : Fluff, Cute Domestic ACK. very short sorry mami.

Rain poured down the streets of Zaun you and sevika had finish your little date and was now running back to her car her poncho covered your while she only had her arm laughing as the both of you were now drenched in rain.

"oh goodness baby are you okay?" she asks softly as she pulled you inside the car warming it up immediately you smiled softly looking at her chuckling softly, "missed opportunity to kiss me in the rain" you said jokingly as Sevika could only roll her eyes at you.

"how about you? vika you're gonna get sick!" you muttered reaching to grab a towel you keep in the car and started drying her off somehow "i don't get sick doll" she said confidently.

her confidence was short lived as she now laid in their living room wrapped in a warm blanket and some snacks on her side and tissues beside her sneezing and coughing, "what was it again about you not getting sick?" you raised a brow as you were met with big puppy eyes from her huh... a rare sight indeed.

"stop scolding me, i am not si—" she was cut off with a loud sneeze as you just chuckled and got a warm towel and started wiping her face and arms kissing her cheeks softly.

"I'll keep you warm baby, I got you" you said softly as you spent the whole three days taking care of a very sick Sevika.

me with handsome butches and preety femmes

...women<3333

ok... i feel ill

the subtle way she ages..

'your daughter calls me daddy too' -> 'your daughter calls me daddy AND is pregnant with my child' headass

need this so bad actually

Fuck it

what are some of YOUR favorite HCs for our ladies? Any subjects, just things you haven't been able to bring up or talk about through requests

I wanna hear your thoughts :3c

~💜

Oh my gosh, finally someone wants to hear me outttt, you're the sweetest, anon 💜, thank youuu

Headcanons (Ft. Sevika, Ambessa Medarda, Violet, Jinx)

Author's Choice

Sevika

Multilingual through and through but sometimes a little bit of this language slips in through a little bit of that language because there's just so much in her vocabulary that she can't get across by using one singular language (Am I projecting? Yes.)

Sensitive to South Asian stereotypes and butch lesbian stereotypes

Likely to beat someone up over it

Grew up in a mysoginistic society which made her feel that she was somehow below men in the past but she doesn't let that affect her now

Considers dyeing her hair because she's insecure of the gray

In her past relationships, her ex girlfriends always made her feel like she needed to wear the pants in the relationship, so she never really was the one being spoiled, spooned or even simply headpatted

Loves being able to show even the slightest bit of feminity when she can with you, but it's rare because she's so insecure of it

If you bring it up, she'll say "Ridiculous," with a scoff and a head shake

Immensely insecure ever since she lost her arm and struggles with body image issues. Please reassure her

Has anger issues and breaks things when she's angry

She's just a kitten when she's angry so hold her close and hug her. Tell her it's okay and coo praises to her

No matter what I've seen other authors say, I think Sevika does get sort of abusive when she's angry, but she doesn't hit you of course. Instead, she slams and breaks things in the house

Ambessa Medarda

Brings you expensive gifts just because she can

When you sleep next to her, Ambessa hums a song and you can't help wonder of her melodious voice, and that she should sing more

Makes honey tea for you with her own hands and goodness does it taste like heaven, she tastes better though

Kneels down and does your straps for you even if her ego is so high, she loves kneeling before you in front of people to flash the dynamic of your relationship with her

Likely to propose only if you share the same loyalty for family as her

Eye contact means everything to this woman whether it's a normal setting, intimate setting or simply sex— look into her golden eyes and whisper "I love you"s

Would figuratively die out of concern if you ever got hurt in any way possible, wouldn't let you out of the Medarda Estate in fear you'll get hurt again. It may take a while for her trust in the world to build again, but she's not all that controlling

Shockingly lets you wear whatever you want to wear when outside but don't expect her to coddle you and take her time stripping you form those clothes. She is feral, she'll tear them off

Her love language is providing all sorts of protection that you need from whoever even if it may be the most dangerous person on the planet, you're safe with Ambessa

Vows to keep you safe whenever you fall asleep, mumbling them to herself as a constant reminder that whatever happens, her loyalty was to you and her family

Her kisses are surprisingly warm, gentle and calculated. She doesn't want to rush, and takes her sweet time. Sometimes it's barely tongue, and she just enjoys the feeling of your sweet lips against hers

Violet

Although she claims she doesn't care for your commands, if you told her to sit she'll sit

Favorite part of your body is your boobs no matter if they're big/small. She'll bury her face in them and even use them as stress balls. Nothing lewd really, she just likes sniffing them. What a pervert but come on, it's Vi

Loves interlacing her fingers with yours, rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of her thumb

Always carries sanitary pads/tampons for you to be your saviour at times of crisis

Can't stand your pout or your tears. Crocodile tears or not, Vi is buying you whatever you want or beating someone up over something that you want. She can't stand seeing her princess all pouty

"You're not scared of me, are you?" Vi's sometimes afraid what impression she gives off to you

Worried because you may be exposed to Shimmer. She doesn't care what the living conditions are, but she doesn't want you to get addicted to any sort of substance that can cause your life to go downhill

Stares at you so much you're sometimes worried whether she's even listening to what you have to say, or when you're just casually conversing she's staring at you as if you've grown two heads.

In reality, Vi takes one long look at you, one that could battle a stare contest, and decides you're too good for her. But she'll never say that out loud in fear you're gonna leave her

Scared she's gonna lose her shit and hit you when she's angry because poor baby has anger issues

Very much capable of confidently arguing with a child and losing

Jinx

Has anxious attachment issues with you, she knows it and you know it. But you both silently acknowledge that

Perfect dates mean bombing and terrorising Pilties with her... Or, you both could decide on a sugar marathon. Whichever you prefer

Her love language is putting effort into remembering the things that you like, often stealing the best of it from Piltover. Jinx makes you your favourite weapons in your favourite colour, with little scribbles that say you belong to her

Blushes when you hug her and she awkwardly returns it back but when she gets comfortable she can't stop hugging you

If you ever left her, she'd actually lose her shit, she's way too attached with you

Overthinks the whole love confession thing before you both dated and she lit your yard on fire with the words "I LOVE YOU"

Cried in your arms after Caitlyn shot her middle finger off. She was so upset, you almost gutted the woman for doing that to your baby

Sometimes she loses her shit, hallucinates and you wake up tied to her chair, her knife poking at your heart. "Love me. Love me. Love me." She repeats, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Jinx calms down eventually, unties you and asks you if she scared you. You always tell her no and give her headpats

Jinx is way too scared of relying on anyone emotionally and you can tell. You don't force her to trust you immediately but it is a slow process, she slowly starts to open up more

Swings her legs back and forth from the edge of the bed while you do her hair. Your arm workout is doing her hair

You motivate her to actually take care of herself, eat properly and shower. But you have to do it all with her

Surprisingly can pick you up

Bluesky Social

@jjy128.bsky.social

Morning sex (7/?) #hanmerhound #arcane

Twitter :

https://x.com/jessica11634119/status/1900269020349423956?s=46

A make out drink with this ladies would heal me!!!🙇‍♀️✂️

Sevika getting cuteness aggression with reader? Like reader is just sitting there eating and Sevika gets a huge urge to just pinch their cheek out of nowhere? Also I absolutely LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHH YOURE SUCH A GOOD WRITER YOURE MY FAVOURITE I LOVE YOU🙏🏼🙏🏼🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

HOW DID I MISS THIS ASK AWWWWEE ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET

i remember responding to another hc about Sevika getting cuteness aggression and thinking "where did i see this before" 😭💙

imma write a silly lil sevika and cuteness aggression thing right here right now bc i feel bad--

~ ~ ` 💞

imagine. just sitting nearby, minding your own business, reading or cleaning or watching tv or whatever, and sevika's sitting across the room watching you from the couch with this fierce scowl. you finally notice her staring and go "what?" "come here," she says, impatiently patting her knee. you walk over to her obediently and as soon as you sit down in her lap she pulls you into an aggressive hug, squeezing you just tight enough so the wind gets knocked out of you. nuzzles her face into your shoulder, you feel the soft bite of her teeth. "why are you like this," she mutters into your skin. "you're driving me insane."

she would also just pinch your cheek habitually. you're disappointed in her for getting home too late, working too much, whatever, and she just gives you a low chuckle and pinches the apple of your cheek, saying "you're cute when you're pissed."

wishing irrationally she could put you in her pocket and carry you around with her at work. would make her feel worlds better when life gives her shit.

Could you do something with loser vi cuming to quick so reader punishes them? Like over her knee even tho vi is like bigger and could easily get away she stays to be a good girl 💕

uhhhmmm fuck yeah i can! thank u sm for this ask i love my subby girl vi<3

Not so big & bad after all

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ sub!loser!vi x dom!reader

There Vi was, thighs trembling between your face as your tongue circled around her clit, keeping the same pace you knew she liked. She was close, you knew that. Her breathy, high pitched moans sped up, hands tangled in your hair, sweat dripping down her chest. She was a mess, really. She wasn’t allowed to come though, not yet, not so soon. Needy thing always came so fucking early, it irritated you. So you put up one rule for her, one simple rule:

Don’t come in less than ten minutes.

Seemed easy enough, right?

Not for our sensitive girl. This was torturing her. Her eyes watered, whining about how she was right there, just so, so close. Begging, pleading, using her puppy eyes, all the works. None of that worked on you though, you knew better. Her legs began to want to clam up, squishing your cheeks together. You growled against her wetness, forcing them back open, sucking on her clit harder as your tongue swirled around it. Your eyes darted up towards her face as her nose scrunched up, eyes shut tightly, chest rising and falling quickly. You could feel her clit tensing up inside your mouth, making you swat at the inside of her thigh.

“Don’t—mmh—you dare come, Violet!” You muffled out, lips still stuck on her bud, though it was too late. She bucked her hips forward, “Mmh—I-I’m c-com-” Was all she could let out before she reached her orgasm, moaning your name out as her cum dripped along your tongue. You rolled your eyes as you watched, letting her orgasm roll out, then quickly smacked your lips off her clit.

“You lasted,” You turned to look at the clock. “Five fucking minutes. That’s the best you could do, really?” You questioned, sitting up and staring at her angrily, eyebrows furrowed. She laid there, panting, acting like she had just fucked for hours. Again, it irritated you.

“I’m sorry, okay! I just—I’m sensitive, I guess. You make me come real fast, princess.” Your eyes glared at the pet name, which didn’t quite suit the situation.

“Did you even try to hold back?” You asked. She opened one eye and looked at you, shrugging off your question. She totally fucking did not. You felt your eye twitch as you stared at her, blood boiling underneath your skin. You sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off, then reached over to swat the side of her leg. “Get over here.”

Her eyes shot open, staring at you with her big eyes confusingly. “What? What are y—”

“I said get over here, Violet. Crawl to me.”

Vi blinked at you for a second before huffing, making her way over to your side of the bed. She held onto your shoulder as she spoke, lips meeting the side of your neck. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I’ll last longer next time, I promise—” Her sentence was cut off by your arm reaching around her back and pushing her down, landing ass up on your knees. She gasped as her face pressed against the mattress, quickly trying to push herself back up. “Hey! Princess, what the fuck?!” Your hand landed on her plump ass with a hard smack! Her whole body jerked, tensing up under your palm. “Ow! What—What are you doing?!”

“You know, I’ve had enough of you doing whatever the hell you want all day then not listening to the one very simple instruction I give you.” You squeezed the skin pressing against your hand firmly, nails digging into it. “To answer your question, I’m punishing you, Violet.”

Her head snapped back to look at you the very best she could, putting on those puppy eyes that she knew killed you inside. “But, I apologized! I won’t do it again, I swear!”

You rolled your eyes at the same words you’d already heard of time and time again. Another slap landed on her cheek, making her wince and whine out. “I don’t believe you.” She wiggled around, crying out as two more followed after. “Hey!” Your other arm pressed against her back, forcing her down the best you could. “If you be a good girl and take what I’m giving you, I’ll give you another chance to redeem yourself.”

Vi buried her face in the sheets, body melting under your skin, accepting her defeat. “Mm… O-Okay.”

You scoffed, lifting up your hand to catch air, landing it back on the red marks that were already being left on her skin. “Okay, what?”

Her back arched, face twisting up as her eyes began to water. “Okay, Mommy, okay!”

“Good girl, Vi.”

The room echoed with the sounds of your hand continuously landing back on her ass, a flush of red spreading all over it. Her blubbering apologies, whines, and cries every single time your hand met her skin, and your mocking coos, telling her that it would all be over soon. Vi was a strong girl, certainly stronger than you, so she could’ve easily gotten away if she wanted to. You knew that deep down inside, she was taking it because she liked it. She enjoyed this ‘punishment’ more than she actually should, more than she’d ever admit. Seeing her smart ass, oh so big and bad self completely ruined as she bent over your knee made your heart flutter. You spread her cheeks, her wet slick glistening against the light. A smirk crept up on your face, tutting at her as she hid her face in the sheets as you did so.

“Are you enjoying this, sweet girl?” You asked, your head tilting as you lightly gripped her hair back, forcing her to look up. “Answer.”

“N-No.” She muttered out, face flushed and painted with tear streaks.

You sighed, lifting up your hand to land another blow on her ass. “You know, I hate liars.”

She gasped, shaking her head before you could even lift it up all the way. “No, no, no! I-I do like it, Mommy. I like it a lot!”

“Mm… Is that so?” You said, staring at her cute pained face. Gods, you could only punish your girl for so long, those eyes really did kill you. Plus, watching the bounce back from her ass every time you spanked it totally had you dripping wet. You pressed a digit against her hole, making her cry turn into a whiny moan. “Are you ready to redeem yourself?”

Her glossy eyes grazed towards you, biting her lip and arching her back for you before she spoke. “Gods, please. I’ll be good for you this time, I promise!”

You snickered as you slowly pushed the finger in, feeling her soft walls tightening around it, almost sucking you in. “Such a good girl.”

TOO FINE TO HATE!!

The only 6'9 senior citizen i want!!🥴🥵❤️

headcannons or a story with Vi and Jinx having a younger sister that has little space or who’s autistic?

Vi and Jinx having an autistic sibling

Vi is your protector and biggest advocate

She makes sure people respect your boundaries and understand your needs

Jinx is chaotic but surprisingly considerate

She might be unpredictable, but she always takes note of what makes you comfortable

They both learn your routines and help you stick to them

Vi is more structured, while Jinx turns it into a fun game

Vi is patient with your communication style

Whether you prefer direct conversations, struggle with eye contact, or need time to process, she never rushes you

Vi keeps noise levels in check

She makes sure loud situations don’t overwhelm you or helps you escape them if they do

Jinx is naturally high-energy but dials it down for you

If she notices you getting overstimulated, she’ll be quieter (or at least try)

They both help with sensory overload in their own ways

Vi is grounding and calming, while Jinx distracts you with something engaging

Vi has a weighted blanket for you

She doesn’t use it, but she got it just for you because she heard it might help

Vi helps you navigate social situations

She’ll gently guide you if you’re unsure how to respond to something

Jinx doesn’t care about social ‘norms’ anyway

So she never makes you feel bad if you don’t fit them

Vi teaches you self-defense

Not just physically, but also how to stand up for yourself if people don’t respect you

Jinx hates when people treat you differently

If someone talks down to you, she will start a scene

They never force you into conversations

If you don’t want to talk, they’re fine with just sitting in comfortable silence

Jinx will hyperfixate with you

If you have an intense interest, she’ll dive into it just so you can share it together

Vi encourages your passions

Even if she doesn’t fully understand them, she loves seeing you happy

Neither of them judge if you repeat things a lot

Whether it’s watching the same show, repeating a phrase, or wearing the same outfit, they don’t mind

Vi is protective but lets you be independent

She won’t coddle you but will always step in if you need her

Jinx will (lovingly) terrorize anyone who upsets you

Not really… but kind of

They both support you unconditionally

No matter what, they love you exactly as you are

Vi is your safe space

If the world gets too much, she’s always there to ground you

Jinx reminds you that being different is awesome

Pre-Engine Fix!Karlach x Human!Tav

Acquiescence

.

.

.

Acquiescence: A readiness or willingness to yield to the wishes of others.

summ: Karlach wants you. You want her. You both make each other wait.

wc: 1k

an: @calamitykills on AO3.

this was admittedly a passion project i decided to give 2 parts, so stay tuned for pt. 2 lmao. this is probably the most suggestive fic I've wrote to date but I'm a fluff account. sorry to disappoint lol <3.

The sigh you let out was unlike you. Deep, calm, and almost subconscious. Which was especially unlike you considering the past few days, where all your waking hours were spent completely focused and conscious.

Lately, there's so much to do with not any time left to spare. That's why now, where it's far past midnight, you spent time soaking in a river hoping to wash away your worries. It wasn't working, but a girl can dream.

That's why you nearly suffocated yourself washing your hair. To feel something. And as much as you didn't want to admit it, the only person who did make you feel something was Karlach.

Even now as you stared at your long jagged nails, you thought of her. You could only recreate the image. That'd feel nice across your skin. She'd drag her nails across your skin, gentle, the same way she tugs at your heart.

Karlach can't touch you now as much as you both desperately want; her stupid engine gets in the ways of things. That makes your face grimace, turning to stare at the woods. What you hadn't expected was to actually see Karlach.

She stood, as frozen as you, jaw agape and her engine roaring. She looked absolutely starstruck. The pure want in her face was enough to have color flush in your cheeks. How'd she even find you?

She only moved an inch towards you, her brain now functioning properly as she raked her hands through her hair. She cursed up and down, the largest smile you've seen on her face. Well, besides the day you said ‘I love you.’

For some reason, you didn't cover yourself. Almost like you wanted her to see you like this. You both yearn for it like no other.

“Karlach?”

Breathless, she made her way to you. “You're more beautiful bare than I imagined.”

That was such a sappy statement, one that made you blush further. Karlach pushed forward, only stopping when she was a hair away from the water.

Then you could see it. More than the want; pure raw desperation. Her flames grew hotter, ends of it flickering blue as she swallowed dryly at the sight of you.

She wanted so badly to close the distance. You could tell she was imagining it, the tadpole didn't have to show you, of her frolicking through the river to you and holding you in your arms.

And without thinking, you went towards her. As much as her engine allowed, and as much as you two needed. Karlach stared at you, you stared at her. She saw the want painted on your face as well, lifting her hand in hopes of doing something about it. You had to stop her.

She frowned at you stopping her, but she knew it was for the better. “I want to hold you so bad. You look too good to just.. stare at.” The embers on her body grew more blue, momentarily having you in awe.

“Karlach, we have time,” You almost marveled at your kind tone, the first in a few days. “You can hold me all you like once your engine’s fixed. I won't stop you then.” Karlach clenched her fists. The deep sigh she let out made steam leave her.

You knew how tired she was of waiting. How tired she was of living under the limitations of her engine. How tired she was of her engine getting in the way of her relationship with you. You were furious along with her, but you had to be patient.

Better days would come, where you'll both laugh at the times where you couldn't touch while sharing loving kisses with one another. You just hoped it'd be soon.

“I hope you won't.” She responded back, that tantalizing stare of hers matching her smirk. You could only scoff. Where was that anger from a few seconds ago? “You'll have to pry your hands from me soldier if I get to see you like this again.”

You trusted that. It made you smile, followed by a tingle of pleasure that rang through your body. It seemed like it wasn't just your brain that was entertained with the thought.

You let Karlach accompany you for the rest of your bath, letting her presence adore you.

She made you feel calmer than any soothing tune and washed your worries away better than the water. Shit, she even silenced your unrelenting dreams for the night.

All because she gave you something to hope for.

☆

Morning light trickled into your line of sight, stirring you awake. You rose slowly, easing into your morning routine and soaking in the moments of silence to yourself. Thoughts of your night made you chuckle.

It could be how sweet Karlach was or the little sleep you got catching up to you.

You didn't care to discern it and just made your way to a favorite spot of yours in camp.

“Oh, well look at you~” Shadowheart teased, seeing you and your bedhead make her way onto her stool. “You must've had a good night. Go on, tell me everything Karlach did.”

You and Shadowheart loved the gossip corner you had going on, but today you leave her empty handed.

You only rolled your eyes at her. “If you must know, me and Karlach spent our time at the river.”

Astarion, seemingly coming from nowhere, chimed in. “And?”

A shrug comes from you. “We had a nice talk,” Astarion raised his eyes expectedly. Shadowheart raises a brow. “About our plans for the future and all.”

“And?” The elves asked.

You managed a sheepish smile. “It made me feel giddy, I don't know.” You thanked Wyll as he passed by and handed you a cup of tea.

Shadowheart and Astarion looked at you heavily disappointed. You didn't mind.

Next time, they'll get a continuation of this. Then they'll know of the details of your hesitation from before. After all, they may be the ones hearing your sighs of relief when Karlach is pleasuring you.

I loveeeee the teacher stuff so much 💗 can i get w/ karlach, minthy, and the boys something with them being university professors and theres a bit of tension between you and them. perhaps you guys accidentally hooked up outside of class and now you want more but they are trying to stay professional??? love you miss seluney and thanks 🙏

thank you so much for blessing my inbox with this ask, love you too nonnie x the amount of research I had to do though for Astarion's was actually so funny

Karlach:

Karlach, or rather Dr Cliffgate, was avoiding you.

Not in the obvious, skittish way that most people avoided their problems, but in the way that made you aware of it. A way that made it obvious that she was trying not to avoid you, but also definitely was. Like how she never met your eye for longer than two seconds, or how she’d always position herself on the opposite end of the class, barking instructions from a distance.

And, of course, there was the rule.

"Five feet. I want five goddamn feet between us at all times."

It was the first thing she had said to you on your first day back after that night. The night you still dreamed about, the one that made you burn with want every time you looked at her. She had been so soft with you, all muscle and warmth, guiding you through it like she was made for it. She had held you so tight, pressed kisses to every inch of your skin—how could she expect you to forget?

And she wanted to pretend it never happened?

Bullshit.

So, naturally, you decided to push.

You weren’t bad at Sports Science. In fact, you were quite decent at it—when you wanted to be. But today? Today, your squats were terrible, your push-ups were abysmal, and don’t even talk about your deadlifts. Karlach was forced to correct you, calling out every mistake in that deep, commanding voice of hers.

It was fun, watching her squirm. But Karlach, to her credit, lasted the entire class without snapping. She was firm, professional, perfectly composed. Right up until the moment she ordered you to stay behind after class.

And now, you were alone.

Karlach stood at the front of the gym, arms crossed, expression taut with frustration.

"Alright," she said, tone clipped. "What the hell was that?"

You blinked innocently. "What was what?"

Karlach groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. "You know what." She fixed you with a hard stare. "You don’t need help with your form, and I know it. So tell me—why are you acting like a dumbass all of a sudden?"

You tilted your head, stepping forward just a fraction. "Maybe I just wanted some one-on-one time with my favorite teacher."

Karlach’s jaw clenched, and she immediately stepped back, holding up a warning finger. "No. No. Stay back—five feet."

You pouted. "What if I need help with my form?"

Karlach’s eye twitched.

You took another step forward.

She took one back.

"Bad student," she warned, pointing at you like you were a misbehaving pup.

You smirked, tilting your head coyly. "You weren’t saying that last time."

Karlach froze.

Her fists clenched at her sides, a storm brewing behind her eyes as she squeezed them shut and muttered something under her breath. Probably some kind of mantra to keep her from breaking, from doing what she wanted to do. Professional. She had to be professional.

But you could see it—the way her breathing had quickened, the slight twitch of her fingers, like she was fighting every urge to grab you and push you against the nearest wall. And you were more than willing to give her that push. You took another step forward, closing the distance entirely.

"Karlach," you murmured, voice soft.

Her eyes fluttered open—just as your lips pressed against hers. The groan she let out was guttural, half frustration, half relief. She grabbed you by the waist, yanking you flush against her as her mouth crashed against yours. The heat of her burned through your clothes, her grip iron-strong as if she was afraid to let go.

"Gods, you’re a menace," she growled against your lips.

You grinned, threading your fingers through her , dark hair. "I thought I was a bad student?"

Karlach huffed a laugh before lifting you onto the gym's padded table with ease, slotting herself between your legs.

"The worst," she muttered, before kissing you again.

Minthara:

Minthara was a strict professor.

She ran her Toxicology lectures with the precision of a battlefield commander, brooking no nonsense, no laziness, and certainly no stupidity. And normally, you were an exceptional student. One of her best, even.

Which is exactly why, when you deliberately screwed up your latest lab analysis, she had wasted no time in ordering you to stay behind after class. Now, you were seated in her office, watching as she paced behind her desk, ruby eyes blazing with frustration.

"Tell me," she said, voice sharp as a dagger's edge, "are you trying to be a disappointment? Or has your intelligence simply abandoned you?"

You bit back a smirk, watching the way her lips curled in distaste, the way her fingers flexed in restrained irritation. Gods, she was beautiful when she was mad.

"And look at you," she continued, exasperated. "Not even paying attention. Are you listening to me, or am I wasting my breath?"

You tilted your head, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. "Oh, no, I'm listening, professor. Please—keep going."

Minthara paused. Her sharp mind caught on instantly, her ruby eyes narrowing as she studied your expression. The slight flush on your cheeks, the way you were watching her—intently, hungry. And suddenly, she understood.

"You like it," she murmured, more to herself than to you. "You like being scolded."

You grinned. "What can I say? You do it so well."

Minthara let out a slow, measured exhale, her nails tapping against the desk. "And what exactly am I meant to do with this information?"

You hummed, standing to your feet and sauntering forward until you were pressed against her desk. You leaned over it, propping yourself up on your elbows, your face mere inches from hers.

"Well," you mused, eyes alight with mischief. "You could always bring back some corporal punishment."

Minthara arched a brow. You smirked, tilting your head.

"Bring out the wooden ruler for a spanking." And then, to drive the point home, you slowly bent over the desk, resting your forearms against the polished wood. "What do you think, professor? Will that finally get through to me?"

Silence. Then—Minthara let out a deep, shuddering sigh, as if she were trying to summon every ounce of restraint she had left. And then, in a blur of movement, her hands were on you.

One gripping your waist, the other fisting into your hair as she dragged you up and crushed her lips against yours. The kiss was fierce, searing, a collision of teeth and tongue as she stole the very breath from your lungs.

"You," she growled between kisses, her grip tightening. "Are insufferable."

You grinned. "You weren’t saying that last time."

"Oh I think I was," Minthara’s grip tightened, eyes darkening as she pushed you back against the desk.

That one night. That reckless night. When you had been nothing more than strangers who had both, separately, decided to drink too much at a bar on the outskirts of town. She had been furious then, too—drunk, loose-lipped, and entirely unbothered by her usual air of control. You remembered the way she had pinned you against the wall of her rented room, how she had devoured you like a woman starved. And now, here, in the dimly lit confines of her office, she looked exactly as she had that night—eyes dark with want, expression hard with something that neither of you had dared to put words to.

Minthara muttered something in her native tongue—something that sounded distinctly like a curse—before pulling back just enough to reach for the wooden ruler on her desk.

"Perhaps it’s time," she murmured, voice like velvet and steel, "that I put you back in line."

And gods, you had never been more willing.

Gale:

Gale Dekarios was desperately trying to pretend that he hadn’t spent a night tangled in your sheets, gasping your name like a prayer, and utterly forgetting that he was supposed to be a responsible, professional figure in your academic life.

It was almost admirable, how steadfastly he kept his focus on the pitiful essay you had placed before him. His brow furrowed in exaggerated concern, fingers tapping against the edges of the paper as he sighed, long and heavy, like he was genuinely distressed by how abysmally incorrect your star charts were.

He was not fooling anyone.

“This is…” He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple with two fingers. “This is not your best work.”

You hummed, leaning forward in your seat, chin propped up in your palm as you watched him intently.

“I think you are right, and I think I know why,” you mused. “I have been feeling rather… unsatisfied lately.”

Gale’s shoulders visibly tensed. He cleared his throat, choosing—rather wisely—not to acknowledge the deliberate edge to your voice. “Is there a reason you’ve been so distracted? It’s not like you to be so careless in your calculations.”

You sighed, stretching languidly in your seat. “I suppose I’ve just been in real need of some stress relief.”

Gale’s fingers tightened imperceptibly around the page.

You watched him carefully, admiring the way his jaw clenched, how his eyes flickered—just for a moment—to where you sat before quickly snapping back to your disastrous work. It was clear that he was actively wrestling with himself, forcing his mind to stay on track, but oh, he was doing such a poor job of it.

“I—” His voice caught in his throat, and he had to clear it again before speaking. “I can refer you to student services for well-being if you’re struggling with academic pressure.”

You smiled, slow and deliberate, rising from your chair.

“Is that all you can do for me, professor?” The way his breath hitched did delightful things to your ego.

He held his ground as you circled his desk, though you could see his fingers twitch against the paper, as if debating whether he should shove it into your hands and send you on your way. Instead, he straightened, schooling his features into something carefully neutral as you came to stand before him.

“I would strongly advise you to remain professional,” he said, voice measured, though you could hear the strain beneath it. You ignored him.

"Your tie’s looking a little loose, professor," you noted, gaze flickering down to where it hung slightly askew. "Let me fix it for you."

Gale opened his mouth, possibly to protest, possibly to attempt another weak defense, but he never got the chance. Because the moment your fingers brushed against his tie, he snapped.

One second, you were teasing him; the next, you were being yanked down into his lap, your breath stolen as his lips crashed against yours. His hands were firm on your waist, gripping like he was starved for the feeling of you, like he had spent every waking moment since that night thinking about how you had felt beneath him—how you had moaned for him.

He kissed you fiercely, hungrily, all pretenses of professionalism abandoned as he angled his head, deepening it with a groan that rumbled in his chest. One of his hands moved up, threading into your hair, tilting your head to his liking as he took control of the kiss.

And gods, you let him.

Because for all his self-restraint, all his desperate attempts to ignore what had happened between you, Gale Dekarios was a weak, weak man.

And you were more than happy to remind him of it.

Astarion:

Astarion’s lip curled as he held your latest project between his fingers, tilting his head as if it might suddenly reveal some hidden brilliance from a different angle. It did not. With a dramatic sigh, he let it drop onto his desk like it offended him.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, tapping his manicured fingers against the wood. “Perhaps if you didn’t spend so much time gallivanting, you could produce something half-decent. But alas, it seems someone has their priorities hopelessly skewed.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the desk. “Oh please. The same could be said for you, professor. That is, after all, how we both ended up in that passionate predicament—”

Astarion immediately cut you off, talking over you with ease. “Yes, yes, I vaguely recall that debacle. But do you know what I’d much rather discuss?” He gave you a pointed look, lifting a perfectly arched brow. “Your abysmal stitch work. Truly, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seam ripper than endure looking at this for another second.”

You grinned, unfazed. His gaze flickered over you, from the crisp lines of your shirt to the neatly finished seams. Then, to your surprise, he huffed an amused laugh.

“The top you’re wearing now is an example of perfect tailoring,” he admitted, gesturing vaguely. “Proper dart placement, clean finishing—though the sleeve cap could use some refinement.”

You smiled at him, slow and knowing.

“Good to know,” you mused. “I made it myself.”

Astarion blinked.

You stepped closer, holding out your arm and tugging at the sleeve slightly, showing off the intricate seams. His sharp eyes honed in immediately, his fingers instinctively twitching, unable to resist assessing it more closely.

“Hm,” he hummed, inspecting. “Not terrible.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, undoing the first button of your shirt. “What would you have done differently?”

Astarion barely reacted, too focused on the fabric itself. “I would have—wait, what are you doing?” His gaze flicked up as you popped open another button, then another, exposing the curves of your collarbones, the slope of your shoulders.

“Just giving you a better look,” you teased.

Astarion narrowed his eyes, his voice clipped. “Don’t you dare—”

You pulled the shirt off entirely. Astarion scrambled, eyes widening as he lunged forward, grabbing the discarded fabric and shoving it against your bare chest with an indignant noise.

“Are you insane?!” He hissed, pressing you flush against the desk in an attempt to shield your exposed skin. “This is not how a critique session works, darling—!”

You ignored him, hooking your fingers into the collar of his shirt and yanking him down, capturing his lips with yours. Astarion made a noise of protest—one that quickly turned into a needy sound as he melted into you.

The moment you pulled away, breathless and grinning, you traced a finger down the front of his neatly tailored shirt.

“Excellent inseaming,” you murmured appreciatively. Astarion let out a sharp, exasperated laugh, shaking his head.

“Gods, shut up,” he muttered before pulling you in and kissing you again, fiercer this time, like he was trying to sew himself into you.

Wyll:

Wyll sat behind his desk, your latest essay held between his fingers like it was something fragile, something unfamiliar. His brows were furrowed in a way that made his usual calm, disciplined demeanor seem almost troubled.

"I had some concerns about this," he said, tapping the parchment lightly. "Your writing is usually concise, structured, and critical. And yet this—" He lifted it slightly before setting it down again. "This is filled with… whimsy."

You tilted your head at him, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"What's wrong with whimsy?" you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Wyll exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep himself composed. He had been doing that a lot since that night. The night where he had held your hips so tightly, pulled your body against his like a man starved, whispered things that should never leave a professor’s lips. The night that haunted his thoughts ever since.

But he was professional. Ethical. Disciplined. Or at least, he was trying to be.

He cleared his throat. "Whimsy, in itself, is not inherently wrong," he said carefully, sitting up straighter. "But philosophy demands clarity, structure, a foundation—"

You stepped forward. Just a little.

Wyll noticed immediately. His jaw tensed, but he carried on, unwavering. "—and while creative exploration is welcome, this lacks the critical analysis that I know you are more than capable of—"

Another step.

Wyll paused mid-sentence as you leaned in over his desk, as if to examine your paper more closely. It was a weak excuse—you knew what was in that essay, but the proximity gave you reason enough to invade his personal space.

Wyll sighed through his nose, jaw tightening further. "I know what you're doing."

You blinked at him innocently. "What ever do you mean?"

His fingers curled into his palm. He had already given you multiple warnings since that fateful one-night stand. Told you this was improper, inappropriate. Told himself that it couldn’t happen again. And yet, here you were. Again. Testing him. Pushing him.

It was wrong. He taught ethics, for gods' sake.

But all he wanted—all he wanted—was for you to straddle him in this office chair and ride him until the wheels broke.

Wyll forced himself back into reality, blinking rapidly. That was when he realized—

Your hand was on his thigh.

His body reacted before his mind could, heat rushing to his face. You gasped as if you were scandalized by his sudden flush.

"Professor Ravengard," you murmured, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. "You're burning up."

His lips parted slightly, a weak protest forming—but then you dragged your hand down, tracing his cheek, cradling it gently.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly.

Wyll closed his eyes briefly, exhaling as if that would dispel the tension that had thickened the air between you. Then, he shook his head.

You smiled, your thumb brushing over his jaw. "I didn't think so."

You leaned in. Just close enough that he could feel your breath against his lips.

You could have kissed him. You wanted to kiss him. But you waited. You wanted him to come to you.

And oh, he did.

Wyll surged forward, his lips crashing into yours, his hands gripping your waist as if he had finally let go of every restraint that had been holding him back. The kiss was rough, needy, filled with every ounce of frustration and desire he had bottled up since that night.

They could debate the ethics of this later.

Halsin:

Halsin sat behind his desk, broad arms folded across his chest, his usual calm expression schooled into something unreadable. He had known this was coming. He had felt your eyes on him in class, the way you tilted your head when he spoke, the way your lips had quirked up into something just shy of teasing. He had ignored it. He had forced himself to pretend that nothing had happened between you that night—the one that still haunted his thoughts no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

But now, here you were, standing in the doorway of his office, as if fate itself was determined to test his restraint.

"Professor," you said sweetly, stepping inside. "I had some questions about today’s lecture."

Halsin arched a brow. "Did you, now?"

You nodded, stepping closer, taking the chair opposite his desk. "Yes, I found the discussion on mating seasons quite fascinating."

Halsin exhaled slowly. He knew where this was going. He had seen the glint in your eye, the way you played innocent far too well. But he was a professional. He was your professor.

So he sighed and leaned back, arms still crossed. "Ask away."

You smiled, tilting your head as if considering your words. "I was just wondering… how does an animal know when they've found the right mate? Is it purely instinct, or is there more to it?"

Halsin clenched his jaw.

"That depends on the species," he said carefully, his voice even. "Some rely on visual cues, others on scent—pheromones play a strong role in attraction, signaling compatibility and readiness to breed."

You hummed thoughtfully, fingers tapping against your chin. "So… they don't really have control over it? It's just primal instinct?"

Halsin took a deep breath, his large hands flexing against the arms of his chair. He had dealt with plenty of difficult situations in his life. He had faced wild beasts, braved the deepest parts of nature. But this? This was an entirely different kind of challenge.

"Instinct is powerful," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But control is what separates us from the animals."

Your lips curved into something wicked. "Is that so?"

He should have ended it there. Should have told you to leave, should have maintained the boundaries that were already far too blurred. But instead, he sat there, watching the way you looked at him with those knowing, hungry eyes—eyes that had once looked up at him from beneath tangled sheets, from between parted lips whispering his name.

You pushed back from the desk and stood, stretching ever so slightly before turning towards the door.

"Well, thank you for the lesson, professor," you said lightly, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the exit.

And then—

The last thread of his restraint snapped.

One second, you were reaching for the doorknob, and the next, you were yanked back, lifted effortlessly off your feet as Halsin turned you and pressed you against the wall, his large hands gripping your thighs, caging you in.

"Halsin—"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish, hot and demanding, all of his carefully controlled patience finally, finally breaking into something raw and consuming. You gasped against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you with the kind of intensity that made your head spin.

"What kind of professor would I be," he murmured against your mouth, voice rough, "if I didn't give you a live demonstration?"

Your breath hitched, and then you were kissing him back just as fiercely, your hands roaming over broad shoulders, feeling the raw strength beneath his clothes.

Maybe you had been the one to set the trap.

But Halsin had always been a creature of instinct.

Was I just listening to reproduction from Grease 2 and when I kissed the teacher on repeat when I was writing this? Yes, yes I was. I'm putting Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Rolan, Raphael and Mizora on a list of things I want to write when requests are done with this prompt. I just cannot get enough of it. Hope you guys enjoyed it and if anything was inaccurate subject wise... shhhhhh-Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

Ambessa: Chosen of the Wolf Review!

Like many others who held their breaths anticipating the second season of Arcane back in November 2024, I too was drawn to the hype (Cait and Vi, ladies!). I love how the main characters are beautifully written–none are perfect; they have flaws, strengths, and weaknesses. The nuance of the interactions between these characters is full of emotional complexity that makes you, as an audience, relate to their feelings.

In other words, I’m an avid fan of the show!

So when I saw Riot was announcing a novel featuring one of the badass villains that I LOVE to hate, I immediately pre-ordered the audiobook!

Brief Summary of the Story:

Ambessa: Chosen of the Wolf written by C.L. Clark (same author who wrote the sapphic novel The Unbroken and The Faithless!) follows Ambessa Medarda, who we all know from Arcane series, is one hell of a badass warmonger Noxian general. Set a couple of years before the events of Arcane, the book dives into her backstory, showing her ambitions, relationships, and especially her complex bond with her daughter Mel. The story kicks off with Ambessa having a power struggle with her cousin Ta’Fik over the future of the Medarda clan. A full-on story about power moves, family drama (Medarda over all!), and her emotional battles in her personal and political life, which ultimately lead to her arrival in Piltover in the Arcane series.

Narration and the Audio Production: 

I love the fact that the audiobook is narrated by Ellen Thomas herself, the VA of Ambessa from the show!  Her voice is just perfect to capture the whole essence of the book! While I was hoping for some dramatization with sound effects or music, but it's a straightforward reading like a traditional audio book. Still, I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Personal Impressions:

The book nails Ambessa’s character just like in the show. It’s not one of those stories where they try to make the villain seem all soft and misunderstood. Nope, Ambessa is just as fierce and unapologetic as you remember. The author didn’t water her down or change her motives to make her seem more sympathetic. What you see in Arcane is exactly what you get here–no out-of-character moments. Ambessa care about her family and even protects them, but ambition has always been her main driving force. She’s willing to sacrifice her family members if they stand in the way of her goals. This theme is emphasized throughout the story and became a source of internal conflict within Ambessa herself as she has a hard time admitting it and often tries to deny it, but her actions speak louder than words.

About the Lore:

If you’re a fan of Arcane’s lore, this book is a must-read. It feels like a setup for the next Arcane show, which is heavily hinted to be set in Noxus. Even if you have zero knowledge of League of Legends lore, it’s a great introduction to the Empire, their cities, their war culture, and how the Noxian view magic in general. There is also a moment in the book where they talk about Demacia, a rival empire of the Noxian. It also serves as a setup for Mel’s backstory. Just after the end of Arcane season 2, Riot released a video called “Welcome to Noxus,” featuring Mel returning to Noxus to uncover the truth about her roots. This book delves deeply into that backstory, providing valuable context and enriching the narrative.

Overall Ratings

3.5 Stars - Good, with some minor issues

How Sapphic is this book?

There is a side character (one of the heroes in LoL that has a potential to appear in the next Arcane show) that has a sapphic relationship in the book, but it’s not the main focus of the story.

-----SPOILER ALERT------

The book sets the stage for another League of Legends champion: Rell! It turns out that Rell is Ambessa Medarda's protégé, which adds a fascinating layer to the character. Plus, she's sapphic, and her brief but adorable teenage romance with a young stable-hand named Tora unfolds during the conflict between Ambessa and Ta'fik. I'm super excited to see if Rell makes an appearance in the next Arcane show. The groundwork laid in this book hints at some thrilling possibilities for her character and storyline in the series.

arcane characters x fem reader! in a fantasy au

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: yo, just had the BEST time writing this! felt like i was in my element, total geek vibes. i'm all about that fantasy stuff, and i think i nailed every character. maybe we’ll do more parts of this, but y’all gotta let me know if you’re down! as you already know request are open ;)

viktor as a cursed sorcerer!

The tower stands in the middle of nowhere, an ancient and somber structure, surrounded by an unsettling silence. The full moon bathes its gray stone in an ethereal light, as if the very sky itself fears coming too close. You know you shouldn’t be here, but the urge to uncover the secrets this fortress holds has led you to its doors. The mission is clear: steal a single object, a forbidden grimoire, and escape before the sorcerer notices.

Your footsteps echo against the walls of the tower as you venture into its dark corridors. Every corner is filled with ancient books, bubbling vials of mysterious liquids, and artifacts that seem to radiate an arcane energy beyond comprehension. The air, thick with magic, wraps around you like a second skin, making you feel both small and infinitely connected to something greater. A soft sigh escapes your lips, a shiver runs down your spine. The tower itself feels alive—breathing, watching.

At the highest point, in what seems to be a laboratory where the darkest secrets are woven, you find what you were searching for: an ancient grimoire, bound in black leather with golden symbols that faintly glow in the dim light. You take it with trembling hands, knowing that with it, your fate is sealed. But before you can take a single step toward the exit, the air grows heavy with dark energy, and the room’s light seems to fade.

A whisper, soft as a sigh, echoes through the chamber. A deep resonance that reaches the most hidden parts of your being. The sorcerer is near.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The voice is deep, rasping, filled with an authority that makes your skin prickle. You cannot see his face, but the pressure in the air tells you he is watching you with an intensity that makes you feel utterly exposed.

You turn, and there he stands. His figure is outlined in the gloom like an eternal shadow, a being that seems to exist beyond death. His skin, pale as the moon, is almost translucent, and his golden eyes glow with an intensity that pierces through your soul. Viktor—the cursed sorcerer, the lich who has sacrificed his humanity in pursuit of a power that not even the gods can comprehend.

“What brings you to my domain, intruder?” His voice slithers toward you, a cold whisper that cuts through you like a dagger. “Do you not know that everything has a price? Curiosity, greed… and now, your soul.”

But you do not step back. You are not afraid, not even as you feel the dark magic coiling in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Instead of fleeing, you stand your ground, holding the grimoire in your hands as a silent declaration of your defiance. You know what he has done, what he is, and yet, something inside you tells you that perhaps this being, who has forsaken life itself, can teach you more than you ever imagined.

“I am a scholar,” you answer, your words firm despite the slight tremor in your voice. “I came to learn, not to steal.”

Viktor watches you in silence, his golden eyes gleaming with an eerie light. A flicker of interest crosses his gaze, and for a moment, he forgets his own power. There is something about you that intrigues him, something even he cannot explain. In that instant, the tension between you shifts, as if the universe itself had decided to intertwine your fates in a way neither of you can comprehend.

“To learn?” The word leaves his lips with a mocking edge. “What do you think you can learn from a being like me? A mere mortal who is not even fortunate enough to still be among the living?”

His words strike your chest like a blow, but you do not falter. Instead, you step closer to him, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

“Perhaps I will learn what lies beneath your power,” you say, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. “Perhaps what you have sacrificed… was not what you thought.”

The sorcerer seems frozen in time, his glowing eyes flickering with something that is neither anger nor disdain, but something far more dangerous… desire? For a brief second, the hollow space within his chest seems to pulse—a heartbeat long forgotten, one that calls to you like a leaf caught in a current.

“Do you know what it means to renounce your humanity?” Viktor’s voice is softer now, almost vulnerable. “Do you know what it is to exist like this? Without a soul, without emotion, without love… all for power.”

His words resonate within you. You know he has paid a price, but at the same time, something in his eyes tells you that not all is lost—that somewhere, deep within him, something still lingers.

“No,” you whisper. “But I do know what it is to lose oneself. And I know that what we have lost does not have to define us. Perhaps there is still something you can reclaim.”

Viktor remains silent, and for a moment, the dark magic around him dims, as if, just for a second, he wants to believe in your words. The connection between you is intangible, like a breeze that travels the space between two lonely souls, each trapped in their own prison.

You take another step closer, your fingers grazing the surface of the grimoire you still clutch. Viktor watches every movement, and for the first time, you see something in his eyes—something that is not malice, but a profound sadness, a distant longing.

“And if I let you go,” he says quietly, his words laced with bittersweet tenderness, “what will you do with your life, scholar? Will you continue seeking what others have forgotten, or…?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, almost in a whisper, but there is something in your voice that speaks louder than any words. “But if you let me go, I will find a purpose. I always do. And maybe… you can, too.”

The magic in the tower seems to shift, as if a door has opened—not to a future you fear, but to one you might walk together. Despite his curse, despite his nature, Viktor feels as though he has found something in you that makes him question his fate. And you, in that same moment, realize that you have not only found what you came for, but something far more important: someone who, though cursed, is still capable of love.

You both know it is dangerous. You both know that the dark magic surrounding him could consume everything. But there is something else, something beyond death itself. Something only the two of you can understand.

The silence between you is thick, charged with the electricity of the forbidden. Viktor watches you as if you are an impossible riddle, as if your mere presence in his tower threatens to unravel centuries of solitude and absolute knowledge. For years—decades—he has mastered dark magic, crossed the limits of life and death, but he never anticipated this. He never imagined that a mere human could disrupt his world with nothing but words.

“You are strange, scholar.” His voice is a murmur, a confession carried by the spectral wind that haunts the tower. “You are not like the others. You do not tremble before my power, nor flee from what I am.”

You take another step closer, your fingers brushing the cold marble of the table between you, the grimoire still in your hands.

“Perhaps it’s because I see beyond what you are now.” Your voice is soft yet firm. “I see what you were. What you could be.”

Viktor lets out a low, bitter laugh.

“A condemned man. A soul that ceased to exist the moment I sealed my fate.”

You take a breath and dare to look directly into his eyes—those golden depths glowing with an unnatural light. Despite his curse, there is something human in them, a distant echo of the man he once was.

“I don’t believe you ever ceased to exist.” You clutch the grimoire to your chest. “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

His expression hardens—not with anger, but with something far more dangerous. Vulnerability.

The magic in the tower hums, expectant. And then, Viktor speaks.

“Very well,” he murmurs. “You may stay.”

But as he looks at you, his gaze burning into your soul, he gives you one final warning.

“Knowledge comes at a price. And in my world… love is the greatest curse of all.”

And yet, you do not turn back.

Because even in the deepest darkness, love still lingers.

Even if it means being damned along with him.

And so, in the shadows of the forbidden tower, begins the story that was never meant to be told.

jinx as a banshee!

The mist clings to the ground like a shroud, wrapping the cursed village in an icy embrace. The air is saturated with whispers, spectral laments that slip between the abandoned houses, carried by the nocturnal wind.

And then, the laughter echoes.

A sharp, mocking sound, distorted by death itself.

Your skin prickles, but not from fear. The first time you heard it, you thought it was a bad omen. That the villagers were right to warn you about the banshee that roamed the town, announcing death with her song. But over time, you began to seek that sound, to long for the moment when her voice would tear through the stillness. Because behind that ghostly echo, there was something more. Something that called to you.

And tonight, she has come for you.

The air turns frigid in an instant, and when you blink, Jinx is there. Suspended in the air, as if the wind itself cradled her in its arms. Her skin is pale as alabaster, her blue hair floating around her like ethereal flames. Her eyes glow with an otherworldly light, but what captivates you most is her smile—tilted, playful, with a touch of madness and melancholy woven together.

"Found you." Her voice is a seductive murmur, gliding through the air like a thread of silver.

You don’t scream. You don’t run. You only watch her, fascinated.

She tilts her head, circling you slowly, as if evaluating a new toy. "You know, most people scream when they see me." Her icy fingers brush against your cheek, sending a shiver through you, but you don’t pull away. Jinx narrows her eyes, amused. "But you don’t. Why?"

Because you don’t fear her. Because death has never scared you. Because, somehow, she doesn’t feel like a harbinger of doom, but like a mystery you want to unravel.

"Because you don’t seem as terrifying as they say."

Jinx’s laughter vibrates in the air, a melody both inhuman and enchanting, twisting between the real and the spectral. "Oh, sweetheart… that’s a mistake."

Suddenly, the world shifts.

The village distorts, buildings contorting, shadows coming to life. You’re somewhere else now—a realm between life and death, where colors are too vivid, where the ground beneath your feet feels unreal. Spirits drift around you, translucent figures who weep and laugh, trapped in an endless cycle.

Jinx watches you with delight. "Welcome to my world."

Your breath catches. You don’t know if it’s terror or wonder that fills you, but Jinx steps closer, her cold hands holding you with an unsettling gentleness. "Aren’t you scared?" she whispers, her lips inches from yours, her laughter dancing in the air.

You don’t answer. Because the truth is, you are. But not in the way you should be.

You’re afraid you won’t be able to walk away from her.

You’re afraid you won’t want to.

Jinx smiles, as if she can read your thoughts. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

The ground beneath your feet feels unsteady, as if you’re walking on the breath of a dream that could vanish at any moment. You’re in Jinx’s world now, a dimension suspended between life and death, where the lights flicker like ghostly fireflies and the sky is an endless stretch of shadows entwined with blue glimmers.

The banshee moves with eerie lightness, her feet barely touching the ground as she twirls, radiating the capricious joy of someone who has long forgotten what it means to be human. Her laughter rings through the air, a melody that dances between beauty and terror.

"So, little adventurer," she murmurs, watching you with those eyes that burn like blue fire, "what’s your story?"

Her voice reverberates through the corners of this spectral realm, as if each word leaves a scar in the air itself.

"My story..." you repeat, trying to grasp onto something tangible while your mind struggles to understand where you truly are. "I don’t know. I don’t think it matters here."

Jinx stops. Her expression softens for a moment, as if she’s found something unexpected in your answer. "Exactly," she whispers, almost like a secret shared between you. "Here, nothing matters. Not time, not names, not even memories."

She extends a hand, and without thinking, you take it. Her touch is frigid, as if death itself dances on her skin. But her grip is firm, so real that you can almost convince yourself you still belong to the world of the living.

"Come, I want to show you something."

You follow. Not because you trust her, but because the pull of her presence is impossible to resist.

She leads you through a forest of barren trees, their branches twisting in the air like skeletal fingers. Tiny lights float between them—souls trapped in the border between worlds. Some whisper in barely audible sobs, others laugh with a hysteria that chills the blood. Jinx ignores them.

Finally, you reach a clearing where an ancient fountain stands at the center. Its water is not water, but a swirling mist of silver that churns endlessly. Jinx lets go of your hand and sits at the fountain’s edge, swinging her legs with the careless joy of a mischievous child.

"This is my favorite spot," she says. "It’s where I can hear the voices of those about to die."

Your stomach tightens. "You hear them?"

She nods, and for the first time, the laughter fades from her face. There’s something melancholic in her expression, a weight you hadn’t noticed before. "Always. Every time someone is about to cross over, their last words drift here. Sometimes they’re broken promises. Sometimes regrets. Other times..." She pauses, staring at the mist with a sorrow that surprises you. "Other times, they’re just a sigh."

The silence between you is heavy.

You kneel beside her, feeling the cold radiating from the fountain. "It must be exhausting to hear that all the time."

Jinx looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no mockery in her eyes. Only something that resembles vulnerability.

"No one ever says that."

Your heart pounds harder. You don’t know if it’s from fear or from the strange tenderness you’ve just discovered in the creature before you.

Jinx leans closer, her smile returning, though softer this time. "You know, I like you," she murmurs, her fingers brushing your wrist with the delicate touch of a breath of wind. "Maybe I’ll let you stay a little longer."

You don’t know if that’s a reward or a curse. But when she intertwines her fingers with yours and the world around you seems to grow more vibrant, you realize you’re already trapped.

Not in her world.

In her.

vi as a werewolf!

The moon hangs in the sky like a watchful eye, spilling its pale light over the forest. Mist swirls between the tall, gnarled trunks, filling the air with the scent of damp earth and the whisper of rustling leaves.

You shouldn’t be here.

The stories about this forest are not mere superstitions; every villager who has crossed the border of these trees has vanished without a trace.

But fate, cruel and capricious, has drawn a different path for you.

A howl tears through the night before scarlet eyes emerge from the undergrowth. There are many of them. Shadows within shadows, stalking with a silent ferocity that makes your skin prickle. Your heart hammers in your chest as a deep growl rises to your right, and before you can even think of running, something strikes you.

The world tilts, and you fall onto the cold grass. An overwhelming weight pins you down, and when you look up, you meet a pair of impossibly pink eyes glowing in the darkness.

Her face is mere inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin, but what truly sends a shiver down your spine is the intensity in her gaze. It’s not just the fierceness of a hunter—it’s something deeper, something primal. Something that doesn’t understand why she hasn’t killed you yet.

“Who are you?” Her voice is a low growl, threatening.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to find your voice. “Just… a traveler.”

Vi narrows her eyes, her fingers pressing your wrists harder against the ground. Her grip is firm, but not crushing. There is control in her strength, yet also a subtle tremor, as if she’s holding back.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

The pack moves around her, wolves with dark fur and glowing eyes watching the scene with anticipation. Vi is their leader, and they await her decision. But she remains still, looming over you, her breath heavy, her chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm.

Finally, after a long, tense silence, she jumps back.

“Lock her up.”

The wooden cage is stronger than it looks, reinforced with claws and teeth of creatures that once dared to challenge the pack. Hours pass slowly, and the feeling of being watched never fades. Vi hasn’t returned since you were thrown in here, but her presence lingers in the air like a storm waiting to break.

When she finally appears, the moon is high in the sky. She no longer carries the form of the beast, yet you can still see it in the way she moves, in the way her eyes never blink as she watches you.

“I should have killed you,” she says bluntly.

“Why didn’t you?”

Vi remains silent. Then, with calculated slowness, she steps closer to the cage, wrapping her fingers around the bars. You can see the tension in her hands, the muscles in her arms tightening with restrained strength.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits.

She doesn’t know, but you do. You saw it in her eyes, in the way her wolf fought against its instinct to tear out your throat. There is something holding her back. Something she doesn’t want to name.

Fate.

The word hangs in the air, unspoken yet ever-present.

She feels it, just as you do.

You know what it means to werewolves. An unbreakable bond. A tie forged by the moon itself. If what Vi feels is real, then she is trapped in an impossible dilemma.

Kill you. Or claim you.

The thought sends a shiver down your spine. And yet, a part of you wonders… what would you choose?

And the next full moon will decide the rest.

caitlyn as a vampire!

The night in the Ravencourt mountains was an icy whisper among the dead trees. The castle loomed over the mist like a stone sepulcher, its gothic towers cutting against the pale moon. The stories spoke of a monster dwelling within—a creature with sharp fangs and eyes that gleamed like sapphires in the gloom.

And you had come to kill her.

Your footsteps echoed through the silent halls, the shadows stretching like spectral fingers as your hand clutched the hilt of your silver dagger. The air smelled of melted wax and aged wine, but beneath it… blood.

You were not alone.

"How disappointing," the voice reached you before the figure did. "I was expecting something more… imposing."

You spun in an instant, your dagger poised to strike. But Caitlyn didn’t move. She was leaning against the stone wall with the elegance of someone who had centuries to perfect arrogance. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light—cold, calculating, yet laced with amusement.

"A monster hunter, sent to kill me. How ironic."

"You’re no different from the other vampires I’ve slain," you spat.

Caitlyn smiled, her fangs glinting under the moonlight filtering through the stained glass windows. "Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong."

In a blink, she was no longer against the wall. She moved faster than you could react, and suddenly, your back collided with a marble pillar. Her face was mere inches from yours, her breath as cold as the night wind.

"If I were like them," she murmured, her fingers grazing the line of your jaw, "you’d already be dead."

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

"Don’t play with me," you warned, trying to ignore the shiver running down your spine.

Caitlyn tilted her head, her lips dangerously close to your neck. She didn’t press down, didn’t bite. She merely let the moment stretch, let the tension weave between you like an invisible thread.

"Play?" she whispered. "Darling, if I were playing… you would have already lost."

Her voice was like dark silk, like the caress of the night itself.

And the worst part… was that she was right.

She didn’t kill you that night.

Instead, she let you go, with a challenge on her lips and a promise in her gaze. You returned to the castle, night after night, searching for reasons to hate her, to convince yourself that she was no different from the monsters you had hunted before.

But every time she found you in the shadows, every time she saved you from something worse than her, every time her smile curled with that exquisite taunt… the certainty inside you crumbled a little more.

Caitlyn played with limits, with the space between desire and danger, between the hunt and surrender.

And you didn’t know how much longer you could resist.

jayce as an elf prince!

The Kingdom of Eldareth was a dream carved in light and sculpted in gold. Its crystal towers rose toward the sky, capturing the sun’s rays in an ethereal glow. The forests whispered with ancient magic, and the rivers sang songs only the elves could understand. Here, everything seemed unchanging, eternal. Here, the ephemeral had no place.

That was why, when you set foot in the court of the crown prince, you immediately felt the weight of the gazes upon you. A human in the heart of the elven kingdom. A foreigner in a land where perfection was the norm.

And no gaze was more intense than that of Jayce Talandriel, the golden prince.

From the moment you were introduced as his escort, he regarded you with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

"A human protecting me?" His tone was a blade wrapped in velvet. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"If it is, Your Highness," you replied with a mocking bow, "I hope you find it amusing."

The court held its breath. Jayce raised an eyebrow.

From that day on, your relationship became a battle of wills.

He tested your patience with comments about "human clumsiness." You proved to him, with every training session, that you could disarm him in seconds. You argued daily, clashed like summer storms, and yet…

When he thought you weren’t looking, his eyes followed you.

When night fell and the kingdom was draped in its mantle of stars, he took you to places where magic flowed purest. He showed you trees whose leaves glowed like fireflies, rivers where creatures of light swam, ruins where time stood still.

"I’ve never brought anyone here before," he murmured once, leaning against an ancient silver-barked oak.

"Not even some noble elf you’re destined to marry?" you asked with a teasing smile.

He let out a soft laugh but didn’t deny it. His world already had a predetermined path. And you were not part of it.

But then, one night, as the moon bathed the fields in a melancholic blue, you felt his hand on yours. A light touch, barely a graze, as if the difference between you could crumble with a single gesture.

"If things were different…" he began, but let the sentence drift into the wind.

Because things were not different.

You were a human warrior, born to fight and move on.

He was an elven prince, born to stay and rule.

But for a fleeting second, as his breath brushed against your lips and the world seemed to hold its breath… none of that mattered.

You could feel the magic in the air, vibrating between you. The same magic that flowed through his veins, the same magic that separated his world from yours. You weren’t blind to reality. You knew that an elf like Jayce had his destiny set from the moment he was born, his ties to the royal family bound by ancient pacts that ensured the kingdom’s balance.

And yet, you did not step back.

"You are the crown prince," you said softly, the whisper of leaves carrying your words. "And I am just a passing human. What’s the point of imagining things could be different?"

Jayce clenched his jaw, as if the truth tasted bitter. "You are more than that."

The echo of his confession lingered between you. And for the first time, after all the arguments, all the clashes, all the defiant glances… you didn’t know what to say.

ekko as a wayward fairy!

The forest had no end.

Each tree seemed to reflect upon the next, as if the whole world repeated itself in an endless cycle. The shadows stretched and shrank with every step, and the whisper of the wind carried laughter. Childish, mocking laughter that bounced between the leaves like tiny bells shaken by invisible fingers.

You stopped, your breath caught in your chest, feeling the weight of magic pressing against your skin. You were not alone.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

His voice was a playful murmur, barely a caress in the air. Then, a presence appeared above you: a young man with bright eyes and translucent wings that reflected the moonlight in shades of gold and emerald. He was floating upside down, elbows resting on the air as if it were his own throne.

“Let me guess,” he said with a crooked smile. “You’re lost.”

You didn’t answer immediately. It was hard to tell if he was real or just another illusion of the forest.

Ekko snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the moon multiplied in the sky. Five, ten moons twinkled above you, each spinning in opposite directions. You blinked, stunned, and when you looked again, reality had returned to normal.

“Well, well, seems like you're more resilient than I thought.”

He landed softly in front of you, tilting his head in curiosity. Though his expression was mischievous, his eyes held a glimmer that wasn’t entirely joyful.

“Listen, little human,” he began, circling around you. “This forest is no place for your kind. Time here is… fickle. A day, a decade, a whole lifetime… who’s to say how long you’ve been wandering?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m looking for the way out.”

Ekko smirked. “Of course you are. Everyone does.”

He stopped in front of you, and for a moment, his gaze seemed to darken. But then, his smile returned, and a spark flashed in his eyes as he took a step back.

“I’ll make you an offer, human,” he said, spreading his arms. “Let’s play a game.”

The word floated between you, light yet charged with meaning.

“A game…?”

“A game,” he repeated, spinning in the air with the ease of someone unbound by time. “Follow my lead, do as I do. If you catch up to me, I’ll guide you out of the forest. If you don’t…” His smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. “Then you’ll be mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Mine forever.”

The night breeze whistled through the trees, carrying his last words like an echo.

You knew you had no other choice.

“Alright,” you said, lifting your chin. “I accept.”

Ekko snapped his fingers, and the forest came alive.

The game began with a chase.

Ekko weaved through the shadows, vanishing and reappearing between the trunks as if time itself bent to his will. Roots tried to snare you, bushes turned into walls, and the fairy’s laughter filled the air, mocking your every stumble.

“Is that all?” his voice echoed behind you, yet when you turned, he was already gone.

You ran faster. You leaped over a stream that hadn’t been there a second before, dodged branches that seemed to move on their own. Your breath burned in your lungs, but you refused to give up.

Then, without warning, Ekko stopped in front of you.

You crashed into his chest.

He didn’t move. His hands closed around your arms with an unexpected gentleness, keeping you from falling.

“You’ve got guts, human.”

His voice wasn’t just teasing anymore.

The forest lights flickered. In that instant, with his dark eyes locked onto yours at such a close distance, you saw past the mask of mischief.

Something inside him was broken.

“Why do you live here alone?” you asked, your voice still unsteady from the chase.

Ekko didn’t answer right away.

For the first time since you met him, his smile faded completely.

But then, with a flicker of magic, he disappeared once more, his laughter scattering into the air like the wind of an endless night.

The game was not over yet.

Ekko’s laughter still lingered in the air, playful and ethereal, as if the forest itself fed on his mischief. “Are you still looking for a way out?” his voice resonated through the mist, wrapping around you like a whisper in the dark.

The feeling of being lost became more and more tangible, as if time itself were dancing around you. You walked blindly, heart racing, mind clouded. The forest shifted with every step, every direction you took leading you somewhere new without any logical order. It was as if the world you knew was unraveling around you, a dream beyond your control.

Suddenly, the mist began to clear, revealing a glade illuminated by thousands of golden fireflies. The air was thick with the sweet, strange scent of night-blooming flowers, and in the center of the clearing, Ekko was waiting, seated with an amused smile on his face. His eyes glowed with a spark of mischief, and his presence felt like a beacon in the darkness of the enchanted forest.

“You took your time, human,” he said, his tone relaxed but with a hint of challenge. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep up with my games.”

You stepped closer, trying to keep your composure, but you couldn’t stop your gaze from lingering on him, trapped by a strange fascination. “I thought you only liked playing. I didn’t know you actually wanted me to win.”

Ekko stood up slowly, his luminous figure like a dancing shadow among the fireflies. He moved toward you, and for a moment, his laughter faded, leaving behind a heavy silence. “What I want isn’t always what it seems,” he said, his voice softer, more serious. “And what seems like a game can have greater consequences than you imagine.”

The air around him thickened, growing heavier with each second. Something in his expression had shifted, shedding the carefree amusement to reveal a hint of sadness. It seemed that Ekko, the mischievous fairy, carried something inside him—something darker and more sorrowful than his playful facade.

“What’s wrong, Ekko?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, realizing that all this time, he hadn’t just tested you with his magic and illusions—he had shown you a part of himself no one else had seen. “What are you hiding?”

A sigh escaped his lips, and for a moment, his expression softened. “Time isn’t just a game to me, human. It’s a cycle that never ends, a prison that drags me along without mercy. I’ve been trapped here in this forest longer than you can imagine, but in you… I see something different. Something that might change everything.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. The forest, the time, the illusions… everything was designed to keep him captive. And you, caught in his game, had become something more than just a challenge. Without knowing it, you had become the key that might free Ekko from his eternal torment.

“If I stay here, what will happen?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. Would you become just another part of his cruel curse? Or perhaps… could you be his only way out?

Ekko stared at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. “If you stay, you’ll lose your way. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll find it in me.”

Seconds stretched like hours. You knew that if you took this path, everything would change. But as you looked at him—so vulnerable, yet so full of magic—you felt something inside your heart begin to waver.

“And if I accept your challenge?” you said, a hint of a smile forming. “What happens if I stay?”

“Then, you’ll be mine,” Ekko replied, his voice as soft as a spell already cast. But in his eyes, there was something more—something that spoke of hope, not just possession.

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the feeling that time no longer mattered.

And so, in the magic of the forest and the echo of his laughter, the two of you became something more than lost souls—something fleeting, yet eternal.

silco as a demon!

A red glow began to fill the room, as if the very air was burning. You had made a mistake—one you could not take back. The summoning had been a desperate attempt, a last resort to obtain something you couldn’t get by any other means. But now, before you, stood him.

The air grew dense, heavy, as if the darkness itself was swallowing the light around you. Silco emerged from the shadows, his presence so powerful that the ground beneath your feet seemed to tremble. A demon, yes—but not just any demon. He was temptation incarnate, a master in the art of making people surrender to their darkest desires.

His voice was low, deep, like a whisper that seemed to speak directly into your mind, filling you with thoughts you weren’t sure were yours or his.

"What is it that you desire, human?" His tone was a mix of curiosity and something far more dangerous. "Because you already know—I offer nothing without expecting something in return."

You tried to keep your composure, though your heart was racing. Every instinct within you screamed to run, to forget this and leave. But an inexplicable force kept you rooted to the spot, trapped by the way his eyes—dark as the night itself—bored into you, piercing through every layer of your being. His gaze was intense, relentless, as if he could see straight into your soul.

"I offer you what you crave the most," he said, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate movements, like a predator closing in on its prey. "The opportunity for more power, more wealth, more… everything you could ever imagine. But—there is a price. There is always a price."

The temptation in his words was undeniable, and you knew you were about to make a choice that would change everything. Silco—the demon who trades in souls—was offering you something only he could grant. The promise of everything you desired, but at what cost? Your soul? Your freedom? Or something far more sinister?

"What I want…" your words were barely a whisper, trembling beneath the weight of his gaze. "What I want is… time."

A slow, wicked smile curled on his lips—one devoid of kindness. "Time… A very rare gift. And one that I can give you." He took another step forward, and at once, you felt the heat radiating from him. "But like any gift, it comes at a price."

He was too close now, and your breath hitched. The temperature in the room had risen noticeably, the air around you burning with an almost tangible intensity. Silco was a man of few words, but the ones he spoke were like spells—deeply seductive, impossible to ignore.

His face was inches from yours now, his breath warm against your skin, his presence wrapping around you like a shadow from which there was no escape.

"Accept my offer, and you shall have what you desire. But I know you won’t do so without hesitation, without doubt…"

The tension between you was palpable, electric, and something inside you was beginning to waver. Part of you wanted to flee, to escape whatever was happening—but another, much stronger part, wanted to know just how far this dangerous seduction could go. The power, the risk, the thrill—it was a game, one you were already ensnared in.

Silco, as if reading your thoughts, smirked again. His face drew even closer, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise.

"All I require, dear one, is that you surrender to me. Not now, not all at once—but little by little, with every encounter. And when the time comes, there will be no turning back."

The pulse in your veins pounded wildly, and a realization dawned upon you—whether you said no or not, you were already caught in his web. Every word, every glance, every movement was designed to erode your resistance. You had been invaded, ensnared by something far greater than yourself, and you knew that nothing would be the same after this moment.

"And if I refuse to surrender so easily?" you asked, challenging the imminent danger looming over you. But his low, dangerous laughter was answer enough.

"You’ll know when the time comes, human. There is no resisting what I offer. Because I am not just a demon… I am the only one who can give you everything you desire."

The pressure in your chest became unbearable, the air itself suffocating. The seduction in his words was too strong to ignore. You could feel the desire, the temptation surrounding you, wrapping you in an inescapable darkness.

Silco leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath ghosting over your lips. His voice was a whisper in your ear.

"I am giving you an opportunity, human. A chance to claim what you want most. But be warned…"

"Because you won’t always know when you’ll give in. You won’t always know when you’ll be mine."

And in that precise moment, you knew—the fate awaiting you was inevitable. Dark, consuming, and utterly irresistible.

mel as a mermaid!

The storm had lashed the sea with fury, leaving in its wake a chaos of raging waves and skies riddled with lightning. The shipwreck had been inevitable, and when the waters finally calmed, the darkness that preceded the stillness seemed denser, deeper. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of sinking, the water filling your lungs, and then… nothingness.

You awoke, enveloped in a gentle current, but instead of the roaring sea and the deadly cold of the waters, the temperature was warm, embracing. Opening your eyes, you found yourself underwater, floating like a specter in an expanse of blues and greens. It was not the darkness you knew, but a golden light that seemed to come from everywhere. At first, you thought you were trapped in a dream, or perhaps death had taken you beyond, but the air, the softness of the current… no, it was not a dream.

The sight before you was like a mirage—an underwater palace, its columns and ceilings carved from iridescent coral, surrounded by floating gardens of plants you had never seen before, vibrant in color, moving as if they were alive. But what truly captured your attention was the figure approaching with impossible grace.

A mermaid.

Her tail was a golden gleam, reflecting the light from the ocean floor with a brilliance that dazzled, and every movement was a seamless dance, as if the water was her natural element, her home, her domain. The upper half of her body was slender and harmonious, her skin smooth as pearl, with a sun-kissed hue that seemed to glow with its own inner light, as if the ocean’s sun touched her eternally. She had the face of a goddess, a beauty so perfect that it made everything else around her seem dull. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down to the middle of her back, a golden tone that merged with the sea as if it were a reflection of the ocean itself.

Her gaze was intense, profound, and when her eyes met yours, you felt yourself drowning in them. They were a striking green, like the purest ocean water, and within them was a gleam that you could only describe as… ancient. She knew things you could never comprehend. She knew secrets the sea had kept for millennia.

The mermaid approached slowly, her movements as fluid as the waves. She observed you with a mix of curiosity and something more—something you couldn’t define.

“Well, what do we have here?” Her voice was like music, soft and enchanting, a melody that made your heart race, as if each word was woven with magic. “A lost sailor, come from the surface.”

Before you could respond, she smiled. The smile of a creature who knew her power and understood there was no escape. With a single movement of her hand, the water around you seemed to freeze, to halt, as if it obeyed her will.

“Why should I let you go when the sea has already claimed you?” Her voice was a whisper, and at the same time, a command. “What sense is there in resisting when everything here, in the depths, is more beautiful and more eternal than anything you’ve ever known on the surface?”

Her presence was overwhelming, her closeness making everything more intense. Your body trembled, not from fear, but from an irresistible fascination. You could feel her power in the water surrounding you, as if she were the sea itself, and you were just a small vessel about to be dragged by the current.

“Why not stay with me?” Her voice grew even softer, sweeter, as if she were whispering directly into your soul. “There’s so much I can show you… so much the sea has kept hidden for centuries. Everything you desire, everything you could ever become… I can give it to you. You only have to trust me.”

You felt trapped, but not in the way you had expected. There was something so intoxicating about her, about her presence, that it was difficult to think clearly. There was something dangerous in the way her words caressed your skin, something that drew you in, that seduced you, something that made you want to stay—even though you knew you couldn’t.

And then, her gaze turned more playful, a spark of mischief crossing her eyes.

“But it’s never that easy, is it?” she mused. “The surface calls to you, doesn’t it? Humans are always so stubborn. They think they can escape… but the sea always claims what is hers.”

You felt yourself lose balance, and before you could think of anything else, her golden tail moved with a speed you could barely follow, trapping you in a swirling vortex of water that surrounded you like a liquid prison. She was close—too close—her face now near enough that you could feel her breath, warm and damp.

“Come now, don’t resist…” she murmured, her voice a lullaby, a spell. “Let me show you the world I’ve kept just for you.”

Her words were more than an invitation; they were an enchantment, a promise that made you shiver, that overflowed your thoughts and your will.

You felt lost—but in a strange way, as if by losing yourself in her, you could finally find yourself.

But you knew that the surface, the life you had left behind, was still calling to you. Could you resist the beauty of the ocean, the seduction of Mel, the princess of the depths? Or would you become just another soul ensnared by her spell, trapped in her world, with no hope of return?

The question echoed in your mind, but you already knew that, no matter your decision, you would not be the same person when you emerged from the depths of her kingdom.

sevika as a gargoyle!

The forgotten city seemed like a whisper from another time, a relic that had survived the erosion of the centuries. Among its ruins stood an ancient temple, its stones carved with symbols that no one remembered anymore, its columns covered in moss, and its structure corroded by the passage of wind and rain. It was a place that people had stopped visiting long ago, yet here you were, as if fate had guided you to its heart. No one came to this site anymore, but in your search for ancient secrets, you had gone too far.

The air was heavy, dense, as if the city itself were guarding a secret, waiting to be discovered. You moved cautiously, the echoes of your steps resonating against the shadow-covered walls. The darkness inside the temple was complete, except for the faint light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling, creating dancing shadows on the gargoyle statues that adorned the columns. They were imposing figures, carved with an unsettling perfection, their wings spread and their faces fixed in an eternal watch.

You approached one of them, drawn by its magnetic presence. The sculpture was larger than the others, a female figure, her body carved with strong, angular lines, as if the sculpture itself were the manifestation of an ancient war. Her eyes, though empty and lifeless, seemed to watch you. On her face reflected a contained fury, and something in her gave you the feeling that she was not just a statue.

An irresistible impulse led you to come closer and extend your hand, touching the cold surface of the stone. The sensation of the texture under your fingers was rough, as if centuries of dust and time had accumulated on it. And it was at that moment when everything changed. A shiver ran through your body, a vibration of energy that seemed to come directly from the very bowels of the earth. Suddenly, a deep sound, a cracking like stone crumbling, made you recoil. The wings of the gargoyle, once rigid, fluttered slightly, and the temple resonated with a low, almost ancestral echo.

Before you could process it, the figure began to move. The gargoyle that had once been a statue woke up. Its form rose, and the tremor of the stone gave way to a body in motion, an imposing figure that looked at you with an intensity that made you feel minuscule in its presence. A growl, low and guttural, emanated from its throat, a mixture of contained anger and desperation.

And then, it saw how you had frozen in fear.

The gargoyle said nothing. It stepped forward with heavy steps, its stone claws scraping the floor as its golden eyes, as bright as fire, locked onto yours. Its figure was massive, almost indomitable, and while it still retained the form of the statue, it now moved with a dark grace that belied its weight. Every movement was filled with controlled violence, and the fury of its presence filled the air, crushing you mercilessly.

But when its eyes met yours, something changed. A glimmer of something more human shone in its gaze, a fraction of doubt, as if, in some forgotten corner of its soul, there still existed a spark of humanity.

"What have you done... human?" Its voice was deep, full of a resonance that seemed to come from the very depths of the earth, a voice so profound it made the ground tremble.

You tried to step back, but you had become trapped in a corner, with no way out. The gargoyle, or what had been a gargoyle, moved closer, its presence enveloping you. There was something hypnotic about the way it looked at you, something that told you that you were not the first to be ensnared by its gaze.

"You are nothing more than an intruder in a place you do not understand," it said, its voice softening slightly, as if evaluating you. "You have awakened something that should not have been awakened. Now, you belong to me."

Fear ran through you, but there was something else too. A strange fascination. Something in the way it moved, in the brutality it seemed to embody, awakened a primal response in you. And even though you told yourself you needed to escape, you couldn't stop watching the figure in front of you, its sculpted body, its latent power.

For a moment, you couldn’t say anything. Fear, though strong, faded away, and what remained was an unusual desire to understand it, to comprehend who this creature really was, trapped between two worlds. In its eyes was something more than fury, something more than hate. It seemed that beneath the rock, under the weight of the stone, a heart still beat.

"Who are you?" Finally, you managed to ask, your voice trembling, but determined. "Why are you here?"

The gargoyle stopped in front of you, looking at you for what seemed like an eternity. The hardness of its stone face softened, if only slightly. "I... was not always stone," it confessed, its voice now less harsh, but filled with palpable pain. "I was not always what you see now. A long time ago, I was human like you."

Its words surprised you, and in that moment, something inside you changed. The idea of the gargoyle as a mere statue, an impassive being, began to crumble. Maybe there was something deeper inside her, something more than a prisoner of stone.

"Why have they turned you into this?" you asked, taking a step toward her, intrigue replacing your fear.

Silence.

"Because time does not forgive," she said finally, her tone much softer, almost sad. "And the price for protecting these temples... is much more than you can imagine."

Your heart beat faster as you looked at the gargoyle, not as a threat, but as a living tragedy. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to break the curse that kept her trapped in her stone form.

And as she watched you, the fate of both seemed to hang by a thread as fragile as the touch of your hands on the cold stone.

to the moving and the strange

arcane | silcovander | explicit, 4k, no revolution au canon divergence | fighter Vander, manager silco

written for @zaundads-week Day 4: Alternate Universe

Vander’s heart automatically skips a beat; he knows, he hopes Silco won’t allow him to reach it without a toll, and Vander is very ready to pay it. They both know this dance by now. Even after the cold shower, Vander leaves the fights always drunk on adrenaline, and since they started fucking he feels driven to him the minute he’s out. This is bound to be a disaster: they are supposed to be working together. Silco is the one that actually has the patience to know which fights to pick; before they started working together, Vander lived way worse. He should worry about that, about not losing him as a friend and as a manager for a good fuck.

He should; he doesn’t.

continues here on ao3

Hii i love your works so muchh and I just wondered if you could do an Ambessa x reader (angst), where Ambessa was supposed to die from the black rose but it ended up being the reader. Thank youuu🫂💗

An Altruistic Act

Contains angst, death of reader

You knew the time would come, you did but never had the guts to really tell Ambessa.

You were married to her, step mother to Mel who seemed to despise you with all that was in her.

Whatever the case was, Ambessa's orders were clear, "Stay where you are, don't intervene, don't move," and so you did when you watched Caitlyn Kiramman initiating a fight with Ambessa, a move you would've normally said was foolish.

But you could sense something darker underlying, you didn't know what to do. Every cell in your body was yelling from you to intervene but you didn't want to let Ambessa down.

Then it happened.

Caitlyn’s quick reflexes severed Ambessa’s protection—her talisman, the one safeguarding her from magic.

The moment it was ripped away, the room seemed to still. A sinister force coiled in the air like a serpent ready to strike.

But you didn't want to let it. You couldnt.

Ambessa had to live, she couldn't die this way.

The next few events went in a total blur, you lunged in front of her is all you remembered. White hot pain shot through every single vein of your body, agony gripping you, threatening to eat you whole and then you landed on the ground with a thud.

All the air knocked out of you.

Vision blurring with tears from pain.

Absolutely everyone watching was petrified, transfixed wherever they were as they stared, trying to comprehend Ambessa's reaction only there was none.

The woman walked closer to your limp body, sinking down on her knees for once, cradling your head.

Ambessa tilted your head delicately as if afraid your head would come detached into her hands, "Why?" She questioned, she couldn't cry. She couldn't let herself.

"Ambessa," her word was a whisper on your lips, hand raising to cup the side of Ambessa's face. "I'd rather die, than live without you." Your thumb rubbed against her cheek in a soothing manner.

"But you were supposed to live," Ambessa said, voice almost strained with emotion but she wouldn't let her resolve crumble.

"So were you," you chuckled weakly but then your hand fell limp from her face, Ambessa grabbed your hand tightly in her own.

You could see from your peripheral vision— Caitlyn and Mel stood there, horrified by what just happened. Not only did they miss their shot at Ambessa, they shot someone else completely.

"Stay with me," Ambessa said although she knew it was of no use, pressing her forehead against yours with oh-so desperation as if it would magically cure everything.

"Ambessa, promise me," you said, dark edges creeping in your vision, "Promise me, you'll win this battle and every other one after this."

Ambessa nodded, "I promise," she said with so much emotion, no Noxian had ever heard her like this.

Ambessa felt you fading from her arms, golden eyes raising with pure rage to lock over Caitlyn and Mel.

Perhaps nobody had ever heard Ambessa being so vulnerable before but now? No one would ever hear that again.

There was nothing more to lose for Ambessa for they had taken away what kept her going at the worst times in her life.

You.

Vengeance (ft. Ambessa Medarda)

Important note: I don't write for Ambessa Medarda yet, but I WILL open the request slots and start writing fics for her soon.

~ @zthebean27 reblogged my initial post of Vengeance saying they need one like that with Ambessa, and reblogs help writers. Since you helped me, I'll help you <3

The air was thick with the scent of iron.

Your blood soaked into the silk sheets, a deep crimson stain spreading across the once-pristine fabric.

Your breaths were shallow, each one dragging fire through your lungs. You had managed to kill the assassin—his body lay crumpled on the floor, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. But not before his blade had found you.

Pain throbbed in your side, sharp and relentless, the warmth of your own life pooling beneath you.

The world swayed, the edges of your vision blurring, dark spots creeping in like shadows waiting to claim you.

The heavy stomp of boots echoed down the marble hall. Controlled. Powerful. Unhurried.

You knew that sound. "Ambessa..." You whispered the name, but your voice died before it could issue from your lips.

The doors to the private quarters were flung open with a force that made the walls tremble.

Ambessa Medarda stood in the doorway, framed by the flickering torchlight, her golden eyes burning with something dangerous. She took in the scene—the ruined bed, the dead assassin, the blood. Your blood.

Ambessa's blood ran cold.

For the first time, you saw something flicker across her face. It was gone in an instant, buried beneath years of discipline and war-forged control, but you had seen it. A crack in the unshakable foundation.

She crossed the room in three strides. The scent of steel and spice clung to her, familiar and grounding.

A gloved hand seized your chin, tilting your face up. Her thumb brushed over your cheek—soft, just for a second—before she dropped to her knees beside the bed.

"Who?" Her voice was low, dangerous.

You forced a smirk, though it felt weak. "Didn't stop to ask." You managed to gesture at the tangles of what you left of the assassin.

She huffed a breath through her nose, unimpressed. But there was something in the way her fingers flexed against your skin, like she was restraining herself from gripping too hard.

Her gaze dropped to the wound in your side. Without a word, she tore off her gloves, hands moving with practiced efficiency as she pressed down on the injury.

White-hot agony lanced through you, and you gasped, fingers curling into the sheets.

"Stay awake." A command. No room for argument.

Her grip was firm, steady, keeping pressure on the wound as she reached for the dagger at her belt.

With a swift motion, she sliced a strip of cloth from your ruined nightwear, winding it tightly around your waist. It was rough, brutal, but effective.

"Get me more later." You whispered with a small breathy giggle. "It was my favourite set." You pouted a little despite the searing pain.

"You should have been more careful."

A reprimand, but there was an edge to it—one that wasn’t entirely anger.

Your lips curled into a faint, pained smirk. "You almost sound worried."

Her jaw clenched. "You're my wife." The words were clipped, precise. Like stating an undeniable fact. "No one touches what is mine."

Ambessa lifted you effortlessly into her arms, holding you against her broad chest as if you were something fragile—something worth protecting.

Her heart beat steady beneath your ear, strong and unwavering. And for the first time since the attack, you felt safe.

Ambessa carried you like you weighed nothing, her grip unyielding but careful, as if the very idea of dropping you was inconceivable.

Her body radiated warmth, a grounding presence amid the pain and blood loss clouding your mind. You could hear the sharp commands she barked to the guards as she strode through the Medarda estate.

“Lock down the premises. Find any other threats. If they breathe wrong, kill them.”

Her voice was steel, but the way she clutched you was something else entirely.

By the time she reached the estate’s private medical wing, exhaustion threatened to pull you under. The moment she laid you down, her big hands hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before pulling away. The loss of her warmth sent a shiver through you.

The medics swarmed in, but Ambessa didn’t leave your side.

She hovered, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching every movement with the lethal focus of a warrior on the battlefield.

When the lead doctor hesitated, she snapped, "If you let her die, I will personally ensure you regret it."

The pressure of bandages, the sharp sting of antiseptic—it all blurred together. But through it all, Ambessa was there, her presence an unshakable force.

By the time the medics finished, the pain had dulled into a bearable throb. The room had emptied, leaving only you and her.

You forced your eyes open, searching for her in the dim light. She was sitting at your bedside, elbows resting on her knees, her head bowed slightly.

The usual ironclad mask she wore had cracked, just enough for you to see what lay beneath.

Concern.

Relief.

Love.

When she realized you were watching her, she exhaled slowly and leaned forward, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

It was the softest touch you had ever felt from her—warm, steady, reverent.

"You scared me," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard. Ambessa Medarda didn’t admit weakness.

Your lips twitched into a weak grin. "You? Scared? The great warlord of Noxus?"

Her hand shifted, trailing down to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing gently over your pulse. "I would burn the world to the ground for you."

The weight of those words settled between you, heavier than any blade, sharper than any wound.

"You’re not losing me that easily," you murmured, tilting your head into her touch.

She huffed, something like amusement flickering in her golden eyes.

"Good. Because if you had died, I would’ve had to drag you back just to scold you for being reckless."

You chuckled, wincing slightly, and she immediately pressed a kiss to your forehead—a rare, intimate gesture that sent warmth spreading through your chest.

"Rest, love" she murmured, fingers threading through your hair.

"I’ll be here when you wake."

She had NO RIGHT looking that good!!! Anyway rock, paper DEFINITELY scissor🥴✂️🥵

𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠

Ambessa Medarda x Bimbo Reader

Trigger warnings: Sexual Tension, Gossip, Age Gap, Power Imbalance, Parental Conflict.

❀˖° The grand halls of Piltover were alive with the hum of gossip, the clinking of fine crystal, and the soft rustle of silk gowns. The city of progress never slept, and neither did its rumors. Among the elite, whispers spread like wildfire, and tonight, they burned hotter than ever. The subject of their fascination? You.

You, the darling of Piltover’s high society, with your perfectly coiffed hair, your glittering jewels, and your penchant for all things pink and pretty. You were the epitome of a spoiled, girly bimbo—a title you wore with pride. But lately, the whispers had taken a darker turn. They spoke of your late-night escapades, your whispered conversations, and the woman who had captured your attention: Ambessa Medarda.

Ambessa, the fierce and formidable matriarch of the Medarda clan, was a force to be reckoned with. Her presence commanded respect, her voice carried the weight of authority, and her gaze could cut through steel. She was everything you weren’t—strong, stoic, and unyielding. And yet, there was something about her that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

The rumors had started innocently enough. A chance meeting at a gala, a shared dance, a lingering glance. But as the weeks passed, the whispers grew louder. They spoke of stolen moments in shadowed corners, of secret rendezvous in Ambessa’s private chambers, of the way your eyes lit up whenever she entered a room. And then, the most damning rumor of all: the age gap.

Ambessa was older, much older, and the scandalous nature of your relationship had set Piltover’s elite ablaze with gossip. But you didn’t care. You were young, beautiful, and in love—or at least, in lust. And bessa? She was everything you wanted and more.

Your father, a prominent figure in Piltover’s council, had heard the rumors. He had tried to warn you, to pull you away from the dangerous allure of Ambessa Medarda. But you had laughed him off, dismissing his concerns with a wave of your perfectly manicured hand.

“She’s just a friend, Daddy,” you had said, your voice dripping with innocence. “You’re being silly.”

But your father wasn’t silly. He was worried. And when the whispers reached his ears, he knew he had to act. He confronted you one evening, his voice stern and his eyes filled with concern.

“Do you know what they’re saying about you?” he asked, his tone sharp. “About her?”

You rolled your eyes, pouting as you adjusted the strap of your pink silk dress. “People talk, Daddy. It’s what they do.”

“This isn’t just talk,” he insisted. “Ambessa Medarda is dangerous. She’s not someone you should be involved with.”

You sighed, exasperated. “Daddy, you don’t understand. She’s amazing. She’s strong, she’s powerful, she’s—”

“She’s using you,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Can’t you see that? She’s playing with you, and when she’s done, she’ll toss you aside like yesterday’s news.”

You crossed your arms, your bottom lip trembling. “You don’t know her like I do.”

“I know enough,” he said, his voice softening. “Please, sweetheart. Stay away from her. For your own good.”

❀˖° But you didn’t listen. That night, you slipped out of the house, your heart racing with excitement as you made your way to Ambessa’s estate. The guards let you in without question, and soon you were standing in her private chambers, the air thick with tension.

Bessa was waiting for you, her tall frame silhouetted against the flickering firelight. She turned as you entered, her dark eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“You came,” she said, her voice low and husky.

“Of course I did,” you replied, your voice breathless. “I couldn’t stay away.”

She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. “Your father tried to warn you, didn’t he?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “He doesn’t understand.”

“No,” she agreed, her lips curling into a smirk. “He doesn’t.”

And then she kissed you, her lips claiming yours with a hunger that left you weak in the knees. The world melted away, and all that mattered was the feel of her hands on your skin, the taste of her on your tongue, the heat of her body pressed against yours.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred, your body still humming with the memory of the night before. Ambessa was beside you, her strong arm draped over your waist, her breathing slow and steady.

You smiled, snuggling closer to her. This was where you belonged, in her arms, safe and loved. But as you reached for your favorite pink necklace, the one your father had given you for your last birthday, you felt a pang of sadness. It wasn’t there.

Ambessa noticed your frown, her sharp eyes missing nothing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep.

“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just… my necklace. I must have left it at home.”

But Ambessa wasn’t fooled. She sat up, her gaze piercing. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, your fingers playing with the edge of the silk sheet. “It’s just… my father. He’s been saying things. About us.”

Ambessa’s expression darkened. “What things?”

“That you’re using me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “That you’ll hurt me. And… there are rumors. About our age gap. People are talking.”

❀˖° Ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached out, her calloused fingers brushing against your cheek. “Do you believe them?”

“No,” you said quickly, your eyes filling with tears. “But… it’s hard. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she said firmly. “I don’t care what anyone says. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you leaned into her touch. “I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ambessa’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “And I you,” she said, her voice rough with emotion.

❀˖° She kissed you then, her lips gentle but possessive. And as the sun rose over Piltover, you knew that no matter what anyone said, you would always be hers.

Later that day, Ambessa surprised you with a gift. It was a necklace, but not just any necklace. It was a delicate chain of gold, adorned with a single, flawless pink diamond. It was exquisite, and it took your breath away.

“For you,” she said, her voice soft. “To replace the one you lost.”

You blinked back tears, your heart swelling with love. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Ambessa smiled, a rare and precious thing. “You deserve beautiful things,” she said. “And I’ll make sure you have them.”

As you fastened the necklace around your neck, you felt a sense of peace. The rumors, the whispers, the doubts—they didn’t matter. All that mattered was the woman standing before you, the woman who had claimed your heart.

And as you stepped out into the world, the pink diamond glittering in the sunlight, you knew that nothing could tear you apart. Not your father, not the rumors, not even the weight of the world.

❀˖° Because you were Ambessa Medarda’s, and she was yours. And that was all that mattered.

The whispers didn’t stop. If anything, they grew louder, more insistent. But you didn’t care. You had Ambessa, and she had you. And together, you were unstoppable.

Your father tried to intervene again, but you stood your ground. “I love her,” you said, your voice firm. “And nothing you say will change that.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” you said, smiling. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

And as you walked away, the pink diamond sparkling at your throat, you knew it was true. You were happy. And no matter what the future held, you would face it together.

Because love, true love, was worth fighting for. And you would fight for Ambessa Medarda until your last breath.

❀˖° As the evening descended, the air between you and Ambessa grew thick with unspoken desire. The firelight danced across her sharp features, casting shadows that made her seem even more imposing, more alluring. You sat across from her, the new necklace glinting softly against your skin, a symbol of her affection.

But there was more you wanted, more you needed. The tension had been building for weeks, months even, and tonight, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Ambessa,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I… I want you.”

Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she reached out and cupped your face in her hand. “Do you know what you’re asking for?” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous.

You nodded, your breath hitching. “Yes.”

She studied you for a moment longer, her gaze searching yours. And then, with a growl of surrender, she pulled you into her arms, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was all-consuming.

The world fell away as she laid you down, her hands roaming over your body with a possessiveness that left you breathless. Every touch, every caress, was a claim, a promise that you were hers and hers alone.

And as the night deepened, you gave yourself to her completely, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that was as old as time. The whispers, the rumors, the doubts—they all faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other.

In the morning, as the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, you lay in her arms, your heart full and your soul at peace. You were hers, and she was yours. And nothing, not even the weight of the world, could ever change that.

Masterlistttt

Also @sapphicrow just for u bby girl :).

Also I might do a simpler one where it’s just reader and ambessa having a chill night here is a Sneack peak