Power Couple | Vi, Arcane

i love healer x protecor trope! So your touchstarved!vi x medic!reader was awesome! How about something like healer protecting vi and vi healing the healer?

I looove when characters roles have to be reversed.

Protector!Vi who prides herself on keeping you safe. She's always watching you when you go out and picking fights with the men who make you uncomfortable. This of course leads to a lot of split knuckles and bruised cheeks. Healer!Reader who always takes care of her and cleans her up afterwards. You always wrap her knuckles and the ice pack to her face.

But one specific night you're out at the bar with her and your friends. Mel is off with Jayce, Jinx is in a corner with Ekko, and you and Vi are alone. That is, until some overconfident man decides it's his sole purpose in life to disrupt your peace. He comes over, running his mouth about how awesome he is and how he'll be the best you've ever had. Vi tries to tell him you're taken. In her defense, she didn't immediately jump up and resort to violence.

But then he's getting angry and he calls you a whore, says you're ugly anyways. You fully expect Vi to punch him, but she doesn't. Because you do. The moment happens so fast that you can't even process it before Ekko and Jayce are dragging him out and Vi is pulling you to the bathroom.

She's wetting a paper towel and gently wiping your knuckles. A smile rests on her face. It makes you smile in return.

"Usually I'm the one cleaning you up." You remark.

She chuckles, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

"For what it's worth, I'm very proud of you for sticking up for yourself." She tells you.

"Thank you..." You look up at her for a moment as she throws away the paper towel. "Can we go home now?"

She nods, holding your hand. "Yeah baby, we can go home."

The Jewel of the Sea

Warnings: Sevika kidnaps reader, age gap (reader is 25 and Sevika is around her early 40s), reader is chaotic, enemies to lovers, mean Sev for a while, y’all threaten each other a lot and both have hit each other, Sevika kills someone, reader almost dies, another awkward fight scene, virgin reader, reader cums fast because that’s normal for a first time (so is taking a second), reader has blood on her when they have sex, praise, check-ups, reader gets eaten out, tribbing, I think that’s it LMAOOOO

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: im so excited for this fic and will be expanding on pirate Sevika!! They are so soft to me like I love them together!! Thank you all for your support I get so happy seeing you all and talking to you guys ʕ̡̢̡⌯͒•ɷ•⌯͒ʔ̢̡̢ this is long asf omg and I wasn’t gonna make it a series cause I can’t have another series rn lol

Translations- priya = darling, jaanu = my life

I researched that her name has Hindi, Sanskrit origins so I thought this would be a cute way to tie her culture in.

───────┈ · ·

Tonight is the night you’ve been raised for, tonight you become queen. The day was going as planned. Flowers here, knights there, it was almost out of a fairytale. You knew this was too good to be true. You’ve been known for your intuition, it’s why your parents put you before your older sister. Whom holds no resentment towards you only a sadness that you couldn’t pursue your own dreams.

Since you were little you’ve adored the ocean, often thinking in another life you were a mermaid. Admiring the idea of protecting the ocean and it’s creatures somewhat like how you saw your mother care for her people. To swim as free as your sister rode. To sing an enchanting song to defeat enemies as your father cut others with his words.

You often reminisce on the idea and in your opinion it helps you be a better princess. Your thoughts were interrupted as your seamstress finish the last lace detail on you coronation dress. You step off the dress to admire yourself stuck in utter awe.

Time passes as you wait behind that humongous door, the door that’ll start the new chapter in your 25 years. The love your family expressed to you unmistakable. As soon as you were alone you felt odd? Almost on edge…

You kept your eyes peeled, and shrugged it off as nerves. The thing about intuition is, it’ll work for you if you work with it.

Ignoring the churn in your stomach you walk as you hear the cue of the violins. As soon as the door opens, chaos is afoot!

Your eyes can’t focus on anything as you look for your family whom are nowhere to be found! Panic is settling into you as you try to create a plan. You see a discarded sword and pick it up awkwardly clutching it, you were always better with archery.

Running through the crowd not sure how to help or what to do your eyes settle on her.

She’s looks like she’d tower over you and hunt you down. You notice her scars and her mechanical arm. Her light smirk and her piercing gaze. It’s like the confusion in the crowd didn’t matter because she was steadily stalking towards you. You’ve heard of her before, she’s known for what she does and how she gets away with it.

Prey in a predators radar is exactly what you were, but you had a choice to fight or flee. You choose to flee as it’ll be you advantage. You know this castle and it doesn’t matter how many times they could’ve mapped it out this is your home.

Clutching the sword you run through the doors and into the hallway. Your main focus is making it to your crawl space which will take you to the gardens. As soon as you got close enough, the knob a fingertip away a sturdy hand grabs your waist and pushes you to the floor. Your sword drops as you try to brace your fall. Not ready to give in despite the pain in your body, you kick at her.

She laughs, how dare she mock you?

To make sure you stay still so her crew could make a swift escape she knocks you out with a cloth.

In almost an instance you went from queen to be, to hostage.

In a haze you wake up in a strange room, it looks to be a office with a makeshift bedroom area? You grip the sheets as you sit up eyes taking in the decor. Treasure here and there, maps neatly tucked away. Slowly you get up feeling that you are without your corset. Heat runs to your face but you push that aside as you look for a weapon.

Gathering courage you go out into the deck looking for her. That brute that took you from your home! The sun was blinding as and the smell of the sea was consuming but you saw her.

You storm up to her despite the laughs from her crew that quite when you dawn the knife you found.

Her express has yet to change from that smug satisfaction.

“Take me home, I demand it!” You yell pointing the knife at her face.

“Careful princess you might hurt yourself.” She laughs, oh what you’d give to rip that laugh out of her throat.

Before you could protest further she grabs then squeezes your wrist disarming you. You squirm as she slings you over her shoulder and makes her way back to her room.

Softly she places you on the bed and closes the door. “You’ll be staying in my quarters.” She states as she gives you space.

“Take me home!”

“I know you aren’t deaf.” She snorts

“You must be dumb because I refuse to stay on this ship!” With that she gets in your face, “you’ll mind how you talk to me.”

Anger rising in you, you spit on her square in her face.

Keeping her composure she steps back and wipes her face.

“I understand this isn’t ideal but you’ll get use to it.”

“Wow an understanding pirate how lucky am I!” You say with an eye roll.

“I took you because of your looks but you’ll stay because of that mouth.”

Being as bull headed as you are, you get off the bed and walk up to her.

“I will be going home with your permission or not!” You keep your voice steady and clear.

Swiftly she pushes you up against the nearest wall. Her breath ghosting your neck. Her thick fingers playing with the lace on the bust of your dress. “Don’t push me princess, you aren’t the first pretty thing I’ve thrown overboard.”

Fear churning in your stomach you whimper softly, pulling a wolf like grin out of her.

“You like that pretty thing? Being threatened is that what gets ya goin’.” Softly she tugs on your dress revealing more of your plush breast.

Your chest heaves as no one has seen you like this. “You are a degenerate.” You state avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes” she states as she moves her flesh hand to pull a stray coil. You swat at her hand and she moves, “get some rest you’ll need it for tomorrow princess.”

Defeated and highly flustered you lay in the bed and give your mind to your dreams.

Your nights use to end with you going to sleep alone and you waking up alone until one night. Sevika was charting at her desk and you were reading on the bed. When she assumed you were getting sleepy she packed up to leave but you broke the silence. “Stay…please.”

She gave you an expression you couldn’t read but she obliged. She puts her things down and lays next to you. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Before this I’ve never slept on a ship before…it’s different.”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it.” She awkwardly slide her fingers into yours. Obvious she hasn’t done this before. You put your pride to the side and nuzzle into her. “I had a bear…I can’t sleep without her so…” with that she just squeezes you close, embracing you. Being able to relax you inhale until you drift off to sleep.

The next months were a blur as you roam the ship endlessly. You were peering out at sea when you smell her behind you. That strong scent of wood burned into your senses.

“What’s occupying your mind priya?” Her rough hand softly touching your shoulder.

Priya…you still don’t know what it means but it’s nice to hear, better than a condescending princess or pretty thing.

Over these last few months you’ve learn to tolerate her. You two still argue like there’s no tomorrow but you grew to worry when she would stress and you’d help keep order. You saw how she’d grow to worry when you couldn’t sleep or if you’d stare off too long, wanting this to be a home for you how this has been a home to her crew.

“I want to go home.” You sigh leaning forward, gripping the ledge.

“You are home.” Sevika states coldly, “ I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you?”

“Why being a hostage isn’t enough for me?”

“Hostages don’t get freedom or new clothes you choose to stay on the boat when we dock!”

“I refuse to be seen with you!” You shout turning to face her. The hurt in her eyes are evident but she pushes it down, “this is what I get for protecting a brat!”

“You aren’t protecting me at all! I told you I’m going home with or without you!”

“How would you suppose you’d get home princess?” She cocked her eyebrow and spoke with venom.

Irritated and wanting to prove your point you look around and it dawns on you, you are an amazing swimmer.

Without warning you hoist yourself over the ledge and fall into the ocean. The water was cool but not unbearable.

You sink down trying to gain cover with the bubbles of your submersion but it wouldn’t matter because Sevika jumped in after you.

Concerned more than angry she swims to you and with a rope and the help of the crew the two of you are retrieved!

“Are you out of your fucking mind y/n! Do you not understand how you could’ve hurt yourself pulling a stunt like that?” She shouts not giving you a chance to catch your breath. The crew was quite, it’s a big divide whenever you two argue, Ran typically getting in the middle of it.

“Why can’t you understand you took me from my home and I don’t feel safe with you!”

Angrily she grabs your face squeezing just enough to leave a sting. “So all the nights I hold you and talk to you doesn’t make you feel safe?” You claw at her biceps as you feel tears well in your eyes.

“That’s enough Sevika I think she understands she’s wrong.” Ran states stepping closer.

Sevika can feel her stomach churn because she made you cry. “There’s nothing to see here go back to your stations!” She yells as she pushes you into Ran then left to her quarters.

With that you walk away and go to your spot. You like to sit on the front of the ship with her right hand Ran. They are sweet to you surprisingly and keep you updated on your kingdom. You’ve been presumed dead and your family is devastated but they have to move on.

“I don’t understand why she keeps me here, I refuse to help.” You sniffle and wipe your face.

“You’re entertaining to her I suppose.” Ran says with a shrug, “I don’t question her anymore she wouldn’t give me a straight answer at least when it comes to you.”

“Why’d you guys raid my castle in the first place?” You turn to face them.

Ran’s shoulder tense slightly. “Not sure if I should tell you honestly.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to Ran please!” You grab their hand.

“We were raiding your kingdom because we heard of a King getting ready to kill his heir and we wanted to goods before the drama settled in.” They avoided your eyes feeling a slight shame.

Dread seeps into your heart as their words repeat in your head “ a King getting ready to kill his heir.”

“No I…he wouldn’t!” You stand abruptly, “he loves me!”

“He was raising you for slaughter! Who makes their second in line the monarch? Look I know this is hard but you ever wondered why your family never truly went looking for you? We’re a notorious group and-”

Without another word you were running to Sevika.

When you enter the bedroom you find her frustrated at the desk writing in her journal.

“How may I help you princess?” She mutters without even looking at you, “he was trying to kill me?” You whisper as your voice shakes.

Sevika looks up at you not sure how she wants to respond. She’s never been good with emotions whether it’s hers or someone else’s. Sevika had to grow up in a world where she was the only person who cared about her. That’s why it was so easy to make the seas her home.

Slowly she opened her arms to you and you run over to her lap. In disbelief you sob on her mechanical shoulder. “Why would he do that to me?” You ask in broken breaths.

Sevika could feel her heart in her throat unsure how to respond. When she was younger she imagined having friends and having to comfort them but she never got there with anyone besides Ran and Ran isn’t a crier. So she pulls you closer and lays her head on yours. “If you didnt take me…do you think that would’ve been the day?”

“Priya I don’t know much…but I do know you get headaches after you cry so stop crying please.” She whispers as she wipes your tears. You try to even your breathes but you can’t. So there you sit in your accidental saviors embrace.

Ever since that day you’ve been attached to her hip. This life isn’t what you’d imagined but it’s yours. You often think back and try to see what you missed but it’s no use.

“Sev, whats your favorite thing about being a pirate besides killing people?” You ask as you two walk around a market. You feel like a true swashbuckler with your floppy hat, flowy fabrics and the gun Sevika taught you how to use.

“Watching my crew enjoying themselves.” She bites into an apple then hands it to me, “you all deserve nice things and that’s better than bloodshed…I guess.”

“Big ole’ softy…” you nudge your shoulder into her as you bite the apple.

“Don’t get use to it.” She mutters and you were going to tease back till you saw an amulet.

“Jaanu look!” You point but she stops, “what did you call me?” Her voice unsteady. “Jaanu? Oh I…well you call me priya so I wouldn’t to call you something sweet too…I don’t necessarily know what either means but I read it in one of your romance novels you like to hide.” You state this like it’s no big deal as you buy the golden amulet. Sevika can feel her face burning and her palms sweating. “Priya means darling and jaanu means my life.”

Stopping in the middle of a market is frowned upon as it slows the hustle and bustle of the environment but you could care less as you stare into her grey eyes. “Then here jaanu I want you to have this.”

You lean up on your tippy toes and clasp the amulet around her neck, “now you’ll always carry me with you.” With that you walk away to catch up with Ran but you look over your shoulder to see her lopsided smile.

You were too busy gushing to Ran about what happened that you weren’t watching your surroundings. You’re still getting use to being a pirate let alone an ex-royal. Technically people still want you dead so it was confusing when Ran tackles you!

Word got out about Sevika’s new lover and how she favors the beauty of a princess. There’s been more incidents at the docks lately but nothing this bold! Another crew mate covered you two as Ran and you prepared your guns.

Lost in the frenzy you got separated. You get a sense of deja-vú. A weapon in your hand you haven’t used on anyone before, fear churning in your stomach and your intuition screaming at you.

Sevika isn’t around to immediately safe you so you have to choose; fight or flight. You don’t need a repeat of what happened a year ago so you choose to gain cover and shoot.

Aim is sloppy but you hit enough people more to disarm them, not having the heart to kill anyone.

That’s when you feel a cold gun pressed to the back of your head. Panic is seeping into your body, what do you do in a situation like this? You aren’t savvy enough to fight them off.

You thought back to all the moments you made on the ship, how you just accepted this is your life. Now it’s getting taken away. You close your eyes thinking about how you wish to be in Sevika’s arms one more time, to tell her how you feel.

In an instance you hear a pop and you assume it was you but you feel a thick warm liquid flow down your shoulder. You look back and there she stood. Sevika always protecting you.

Quickly she rounded you and the crew up. “Are you hurt?” Sevika held your face, her grey eyes searching yours. Not wanting to waste another moment you kiss her.

You two fumble to your quarters, breathing heavily. She shakily takes your clothes off as she bites your neck. “Been wanting you for so long priya.”

“Take me then” you moan clawing at her clothes. Sevika pushes you down on the bed and pressed your things to your chest. Her thick tongue slowly licks and teases your cunt. “Jaanu please I want more” you mewl overwhelmed by the sensations.

“I’m going to take my time and you will listen. Now this might hurt for a second so breathe f’me.” She pushes one finger into you slowly and listens to your drawn out moan. “Feels good priya?”

“Fuck yes!” You moan as you bite your lip. Needing to do something with your hands you pull her hair. “Sevika more!”

“Can’t ever stop being a brat huh?” Always striving to make you happy she pushes another finger in. Her tongue wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Broken moans is the only thing able to come from your throat as you cum into her mouth. “Are you okay, does anything hurt?”

“No more please” you whine although this position is hurting your thighs.

Sevika gently placed her bare cunt against yours and rubs. The satisfaction of that small amount of friction got you wet. “Fuck you feel so good” she moans into your ear.

“You make me feel so good” you lick the outer shell of her pierced ear causing a shiver to go down her spine.

Your hips grind up against hers and you feel yourself already on edge so you both slow down. The drawn out strokes had you both twitching and moaning. The mixture of your juices staining the sheets when y’all came.

Sevika leans her forehead against yours and says, “promise to sail the seas with me forever?”

“I do.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: this is the longest fic I ever wrote and bitch I don’t wanna do this shit again🥹 in all seriousness I wanted to push myself and I can see the moodboard already!! I hope you all enjoyed this and criticisms is welcomed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian

Dividers- @dollywons

After hours

NOTE: i don't think this was my greatest work, but it is something. please go easy on me, it's been a while since i wrote 😩🙏. also, it got angsty, i kept listening to "Let down" by Radiohead, so ummm... yeah... also happy 200!! i <3 you all so much!! xoxo 🥰💕

this is the inspo for this (i changed some bits so it fits better)

synopsis: oldergf!Sevika doesn't believe she's good enough for you, but does her insecurity run so deep that she's not willing to be with you anymore?

CW: feminine reader, angsty, modern setting, no usage of y/n, not edited, age gap (reader is twenty-five and sevika is forty-one), mentions of alcohol and smoking (not detailed), power dynamic (sevika is technically reader's boss but not directly), office romance, sevika is whipped for you (like really bad)

word count: 4 000+

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika was the best gift that life could give you. Whenever you were with her, it felt too good to be true. Being with her made you realize that nothing could ever compare to her or any experience you've had in the past. She was older than you, but that didn't stop love from blooming.

She didn't mean to fall for you. She did everything in her power not to, but as soon as you smiled at her and thanked her for helping you with directions, she felt she had no choice. After that, she kept seeing you around. She hadn't realized that you would be the new hire at work. If she had known that, maybe she would have done more to prevent her heart from beating for you. Thankfully, you worked in a different department, which helped Sevika focus on her work. But it was as if you were following her, as though you knew she was falling for you and that she was resisting you. Every time you walked past her office to go to your cubicle, she savoured the view, memorizing the outfit you wore and how you styled your hair. She liked every hairstyle on you, but her favourite was when it was down. Sevika was often spellbound by the way it bounced when you walked away. She learned your schedule, and when she discovered that you liked to arrive at the office earlier than everyone else, just so you could settle in, she began to come in earlier than necessary; she didn't need to be there in the mornings, but she did so just to catch a glimpse of you. Sevika knew she couldn't have you, but that's what she liked about you.

You have kind eyes. Full of curiosity about the world, about her. The first time she had gotten to you was at an after-work event. It was a successful quarter, and to celebrate, everyone had made plans to go to a bar, the Last Drop. Sevika wasn't planning on going but was convinced after hearing that you would be present as well. Silco, her business partner, didn't question her about her sudden change of mind. He was simply entertained.

You were making your rounds, talking to everyone and catching up. Everyone seems to love you, and honestly, who wouldn't? You were so kind and sweet. You baked for the office, even providing a gluten-free option for those who wanted it. If someone confided in you about late work, you would offer to help them, and you simply wanted nothing in return. You were an angel, and Sevika had never wanted anyone more.

Sevika stayed put by the bar, talking to Vander and Silco, catching a glimpse of you here and there. By the second hour, the two men had grown sick of her longing, lovestruck stares.

"Why don't you just go up to her? Talk to her instead of staring at her." Vander suggested, giving her a knowing look. The trio has known each other for a while, going to college together. 

"I can't," Sevika groaned into her hands.

"And why not?" Now it was Silco's turn to tease the scary lady of the office.

"Because… that's just inappropriate," Sevika stated the obvious, but she knew deep down she was just using that as an excuse. She technically wasn't your boss, but the boss's boss. Still, Sevika wasn't one to mix business and pleasure. For the past two decades, Sevika has put her life and soul into this company she's built with Silco. She knows nothing but work. As she grew older, she realized she needed to set boundaries with herself. No one was there to take care of her, so she needed to. Work ended as soon as she left the building. No matter how important it was, she's made it clear not to call or email her after hours.

"Besides, I don't think she would be very interested in an old lady." Even with the sheepish smile on her face, Sevika's tone of voice was serious, meaning she didn't want to be pressed on. Vander stirs the conversation elsewhere, now asking about how it was nearing 20 years since the establishment of the company. 

The bar has gotten louder than what Sevika would have liked. Vander occupied the bar, fixing drinks while Silco was now entertaining a group of employees. Her leather jacket was now slung over the back of her chair, the white tee clinging to her body, and her muscles were on full display. Despite her age, Sevika was still a very fit woman. A couple of silver rings splayed on her thick fingers, she nurses a drink that’s gone warm while the ice melts in defiance of the glass. She’s halfway through weighing if it’s time for her to take her leave. There wasn’t much of a point in staying; she had already played a couple of rounds of cards with the others that she had promised. As she plans her exit, you decide to sit beside her. 

Not near her. Not across the bar where she can pretend she doesn’t see you.

Beside her.

Sevika’s fingers tighten around her glass. 

You glance over, bright-eyed and a little flushed from whatever conversation you peeled away from. “I didn’t expect you to stay this long in the night.” You say, voice light, like you had already talked before. Like, Sevika wasn’t your boss’s boss, who people usually avoided unless something was going wrong, so she could be the one to break the news to Silco. 

She doesn’t smile, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she doesn’t trust herself. 

“Didn’t expect to stay this late,” she mutters, eyes fixated on her drink, like it was the most interesting sight she had ever seen. “Thought I could finally make my quick escape.” 

You giggle - and fuck, it’s angelic. “Guess I ruined that plan.”

“You have a habit of doin’ that?” The words come out before she can stop them. Too casual. Too easy. 

You arch a brow, “ruining plans?”

“Making it hard to leave.”

She sees how your expression falters, just a flicker, before you giggle again - a curiosity blooming within. This was the first time you were talking to one of the big bosses, and you didn’t expect it to be like this. You weren’t going to complain, though. She swears under her breath and quickly finishes her drink. 

This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. She shouldn’t be looking at you like this. There are unspoken lines, and she’s made a career out of respecting them - keeping her hands clean even when her knuckles are split open. And yet here you were, with a soft curiosity in your voice, like she’s a puzzle you want to figure out. Like she’s not someone who’s already lived too many lives to count.

“You’ve been with the company for a while, right?” You ask, not realizing your proximity is a problem. Sevika noticed but decides against doing anything about it. This was probably the only time she could be this close to you; she will savour it. 

She’ll relish your lavender perfume, the way your dress was snug, accentuating your waist. Your hair had loose curls just the way she liked. Sevika sees the curve of your smile and the sight of your dimples, making her stomach twist in a way it hasn’t in years.

“Longer than you’ve been drinking,” she says dryly.

You make a face, “Ouch. Was that a dig at me?”

“A warning,” she mutters. “You need to be careful talking to me like this.”

You blink. The teasing fades, confusion creeping in its place. “Like what?”

Sevika exhales slowly, jaw tightening. You’re not doing anything wrong. She knows that, and it’s not like she’s acted on anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at her like she’s just some stranger at a bar, and not someone who knows exactly where you sit in the company hierarchy. She knows how good you are with people. How you brought tea to the receptionist when she was sick and found a sincere compliment for everyone you walked passed. You have no idea what you’re doing to her. 

“I’m your boss’s boss,” she plainly states, each word like it’s being dragged from her throat. “It’s… inappropriate.”

You tilt your head, lips pressed together like you’re trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words. Questioning if this was her sense of humour. 

Except, she wasn’t joking. 

She’s trying not to fall.

“Oh.” You responded after a moment. Then, gentler, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She knows. Of course you didn’t. You’re just the young, sweet and friendly new hire at work.

“I know,” Sevika acknowledges, looking back down at her glass. “Doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Your brows furrow. She can see the puzzle pieces trying to fit together behind your eyes, but she won’t give you enough to complete the picture. She can’t. It’s not right. 

She’s not right.

Still, you don’t leave. That’s the part that gets her. 

You were supposed to leave. Yet, you stayed and ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, feet swinging just barely above the ground from your seat. Instead, you talk about a project you were assigned to, about how cold the office gets, so you have to bring an extra cardigan, and about a stupid joke someone made in the elevator today. Sevika simply listens, occasionally grunting in acknowledgement, but not letting herself relax. Not until the end, when your glass is empty and your eyes linger on her a little longer than they should. You slide off the stool and turn to her. “You know,” thinking of your words carefully, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

Sevika looks at you, sharp and still. Her heart clenches. She shouldn’t. 

You smile - not flirty, not even expectant. Just… warmth.

“But maybe I’ll let you ask,” you add. “When it’s appropriate.”

And with that, you walk off and find your colleagues that you were meant to drive home for the night. Only to leave Sevika alone at the bar, heart pounding against ribs that suddenly feel too small. 

Sevika doesn’t sleep that night. She tells herself it’s the whiskey. Maybe she left the bar too late, or something she ate didn’t sit right. But deep down, she knows it’s you. It could only be you. The memory of you - your smile, the way your voice dipped low when you said you’d let her ask, like it was some kind of permission. 

And maybe it was.

She tosses and turns, constantly catching a glimpse of her phone, debating whether or not she should go for it. In the end, she decides against it.

Three days pass. She sees you once, she was stuck in a morning meeting while you were on the other side of the glass, sitting at your desk with headphones in, eyes narrowing at the screen in front of you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You don’t notice her looking at you. Maybe it was for the best. She’s done many things in life that toe the line, but this? This was where she drew the line. 

Friday hits, and Sevika’s in her office after hours, finalizing details of a new deal. The building was quiet, there was a stillness as the cleaning staff hadn’t even made it to this floor yet. Her phone buzzes. A calendar reminder she never turned off. 

Coffee with HR, 4 pm - cancelled.

And for some reason, that’s what does it.

She picks up her phone, thumb hesitating over your name. You’re saved in her contacts as just your first name - no emoji, no last initial, no indication of what you mean to her beyond professionalism. 

It takes three drafts. Finally, she sends a simple message.

You still up for that coffee?

Not bothering to wait for a reply. She locks her screen and throws her phone down, heart hammering like she just pulled the trigger on something she can’t take back.

The coffee shop is quiet. It was one of those corner places where no one wears a uniform, and all the pastries are homemade and slightly burnt. A place she wouldn’t be caught dead in. You were already there, tucked in a booth near the back, hands wrapped around a mug like you’re holding onto something precious. You spot her before she spots you - but not by much. She sees the smile playing on your lips, soft and surprised, and her chest goes tight. She slowly walks over, not wanting to ruin the moment by rushing. 

“Didn’t think you’d come,” you commented, voice low enough to carry.

“Neither did I,” Sevika admits, sliding into the seat across from you. There was a coffee already there, waiting just for her. You offer her half of your muffin without asking. She declines. You expected that.

There’s silence, but it’s not an awkward one. Just… suspended. Like both of you are waiting for the first move that’ll tip the scales.

“Still inappropriate?” You ask, sipping your coffee. 

“Janna, yes,” Sevika mumbled, rubbing a hand down her face. “You have no idea.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, what changed?”

She looks at you for a long time. Long enough that it starts to weigh on you. Then, she says, “I got tired of pretending it didn’t matter.” 

You blink, the answer catching you off guard. Not because of what she said, but how it was so Sevika. Blunt. Honest. Gruff and vulnerable in the same breath.

“Does it matter?” You questioned.

She doesn’t answer right away. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed, her jaw tight, not with anger, but restraint.

“It shouldn’t,” she finally says. “But it does.”

You nod, eyes on her like you’re searching for something. “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not a kid.”

“I know that as well.”

Your voice dips quieter, softer. “So maybe we just… have coffee. No expectations. No titles. Just two people who might like each other.”

Sevika huffs a breath, something between a laugh and surrender.

“Dangerous words, kid.”

“I’m not scared of you, Sev.”

That gets her.

She looks at you. Really looks at you - and it hits her all over again how goddamn doomed she is. Because you’re right here, giving her a chance she knows she doesn’t deserve. 

But she wants it anyway, and she’ll do anything to be worthy of you. 

She lifts her coffee and clinks her mug gently against yours. “One coffee.”

You grin. “One for now.”

And she’s fucked. 

She’s smiling now, too. 

It had now become a routine. Not the kind that dulls over time, but the kind that settles into the bones like warmth after a long winter. It started with a shared elevator ride after work. You would wait by Sevika’s office, leaning against the wall with a knowing smile, and Sevika would pretend she hadn’t been watching the clock all day, would grab her coat with forced indifference. 

Then came the walk through the lobby, shoulders brushing, conversations stitched with quiet laughs. The world outside the office felt muted when you two were together. 

Now it was you in her apartment. Sevika would cook most nights. You always insisted on helping, but she would only let you cut the vegetables and keep her company. You two would eat by the window, legs tangled under the table, with the city lights flickering like background music. Later that night, on the couch, Sevika would read while you’d lie across her lap, playing with the hem of her sleeve. There was always a moment, just one, where Sevika would look down at you, and everything in her chest would clench so tightly it almost hurt. A mix of awe and fear. A feeling she hadn’t let herself want in years.

Half asleep and curled against her, you mumbled, “You look at me like I’m going to disappear.” To you, it was simple teasing, but that summed up what Sevika has always thought. 

Sevika didn’t respond. Just stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head like she was trying to promise something, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it. 

It all began to unravel slowly.

Sevika found herself staring a little too long when you would laugh with a co-worker. She started pulling away after kisses. She lingered in the kitchen too long and tried to avoid dinner overall. She had snapped, once, over something small, you were late to dinner. Sevika apologized immediately, but it clung to her like guilt.

She was too old for this. Too jaded. Too experienced in the art of being left. You were still young and bright. Sevika loved that about you, but part of her felt like she smudged all that warmth. 

So, one quiet night in her apartment. The kind of quiet that settled deep, only the soft clinking of ice in your glass and the low hum of a jazz record spinning lazily in the background. You were on her couch, legs tucked under you, reading through one of Sevika’s books. You wore an oversized shirt, which hangs off your shoulder, paired with flared leggings. The sight of you wasn’t anything new, but it was still hard for Sevika to believe that this was her reality now. 

Sevika stood by the kitchen counter, leaning her weight on one arm, a half-finished drink in the other hand. Her hair was down tonight, and the sight of it sent something warm and stupid fluttering in your chest. Neither of you had talked much since dinner. Not out of discomfort, just that easy silence you’d started to fall into more and more. She didn’t fill space unless it needed filling, and you… You were getting good at listening to what she didn’t say.

Then, out of nowhere.

“I think you should stop coming here.” 

You flinched from your spot, not sure if you had heard her right. You looked at her from your seat, and she looked just as startled as you were. That quickly went away and was now replaced with a stoic expression. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. 

“This,” Sevika forces a steadiness into her voice. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to last. You should be with someone your age. One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking being with me. I’m not going to wait for that.” That last part came out quieter, almost like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth. 

“Are we really doing this now?” You raised a brow. 

She turns her gaze to where you were sitting. Tired eyes, scarred skin, that permanent weight she carried even when she wasn’t talking about it.

“You’re twenty-five,” she explained, like that was enough to understand. Like that should be the end of it. You stood, putting your book down on the coffee table, walking toward her slowly. “And you’re what? Walking away from this before I even get the chance to prove you wrong? So, I can end up with some clean-shaven corporate guy who has a dog and doesn’t smoke?”

She flinched. Just slightly. 

Sevika didn’t expect you to fight her on this matter. She underestimated how much you want this. She fights the little voice in her head telling her that she shouldn’t continue.

“I’ve seen how people look at us,” she mutters, turning away from you. “Like I’m dragging you down. Like you’re just… playing house until something better comes along.” 

You step back, “Is that what you think of me? That I would use you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Was this really the same person who held you at night? The woman who made sure you got home safe? The one who would look at you like you were the only thing that mattered because you were.

“Do you think of me so lowly?” 

“I’m protecting both of us.” Sevika bit her lip. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but if that’s what it took for you to realize that she’s not the woman you want, then so be it.

“You’re not,” you utter. “You don’t even want to try.” The frustration starts to build up, you run a hand through your hair, not believing what you’re hearing. There was a long pause, raw and aching.

“I’m not worth the fight for you… Am I?”

Sevika wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to declare you’re everything to her. That this could work out between you two. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

After a moment of processing, a realization that this is the path she wants for you. You gathered your things and left. You didn’t slam the door. There were no tears in your eyes, not yet at least. You simply walked out quietly, you knew that trying to stay would only make it worse. 

Weeks have gone by.

Sevika went home alone. No one sang in the car or made fun of her ‘old people’ music. She cooked for one. Nobody was there to help her with the dishes. She read books that didn’t hold her attention. Not a single soul was there to play with her hair and ask a million questions about her day. The apartment had grown too cold. 

You two would still see each other in the office. You would pass by her, being the cordial and polite person you were, you would smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. Sevika started avoiding you, purposely leaving early or staying as late as possible because anything was better than seeing you in pain. 

She’d lie awake at night, gripping what was once your side of the bed. She swears it still smells like you. Sometimes she’d reach over, pathetically, like muscle memory hadn’t caught up to heartbreak. 

The worst part was the silence. She missed your laugh because she completely missed the joke you made. The way you tried to speak Hindi, even though your pronunciation wasn’t the greatest, it was the fact that you tried. The way you looked at her like she was something good. 

It was late one night when Sevika broke. 

She stood outside your door, her heart thudding out of her chest like it had something to say before she did. She hesitated; it wasn’t fair that she was crawling back to you for something she broke off. She was a coward. About to turn back, the door swings open, and Sevika looks up to see you. 

You didn’t look surprised to see her. Just tired. 

Tired and lovely, and still hers, in some unspoken way.

Sevika cleared her throat, trying to gain some control of herself. “I was wrong. I got scared and in the end I’m the one that hurt you.”

You said nothing, but instead observed her. You watched the way her breath catches up to her. Her fingers fidgeted on her sides, trying to grab something but falling short. 

“I still think you deserve better than me,” Sevika went on. “But I also know that I’ve never wanted someone this much in my life.”

A pause.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

You studied her for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, you step aside and open the door wider. And there it was. The same doe eyes looking at her, the day she gave you directions. The soft smile playing on your lips. 

And this time, Sevika walks in. No fear and not one doubt in her mind.

Just hope.

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.

Hello 😊

I want to request some soft morning fluff with Sevika or Ambessa. Waking up in each other arms, slow morning vibes.

Thank you so much ❤️

Love youuu and your writing 😘

- t.04 🦇

Waking Up With Them (Ft. Sevika & Ambessa Medarda)

₊˚⊹ᰔ Sevika ₊˚⊹ᰔ

When you wake up next to Sevika, she's snoring softly. Not as loud as she is during the night but the sound is now soft and relaxed. Her arm is wrapped around your waist and mechanical arm rested on the bedside table so she wouldn't hurt you by accident.

Sevika's eyebrows were slightly knitted together into some sort of expression of relaxation but you couldn't exactly place it. You sigh and place your arms around her broad shoulders as you run your hands through her hair. The chirping of the birds outside wakes you up every morning and so the both of you don't need to set an alarm.

You yawn, squeezing your eyes shut for a bit before reopening them and looking at Sevika.

"Baby, wake up," you mumble and kiss down her jaw, "Wakey, darling," you call out again.

Sevika groans and lets go of your waist, turning around and hogging most of the blanket. You shake your head and grab her shoulder, pulling it to make her turn to your side again, "Baby, wake up! You'll be late!"

Sevika's grey eyes snap open and she groans. Her flesh hand reaches to rub her eyes groggily as she sits up hastily. You remain laid next to her as you watch her regain her bearings. She looks at you with her tired, sunken eyes.

"Another Tuesday," Sevika grumbles.

"Another Tuesday," you repeat and pull her into your chest so her her head was laid on your chest, listening to the soothing sound of your heartbeat, "I'll make you pancakes for breakfast."

Sevika grins, "The fluffy ones?"

"Mhm," you hum back.

"I love you."

"I love you too, you big cuddle bear."

₊˚⊹ᰔ Ambessa Medarda ₊˚⊹ᰔ

When you wake up next to Ambessa, you're suddenly not next to her anymore. She's not there. The luxurious, silken bedsheets now feel worthless without her warmth and imposing figure snuggled close to you. You groan and turn onto your back, staring at the expensive ceiling with squinting eyes.

"Good morning, dearest," Ambessa's voice rings out suddenly and you look at her, eyes slightly wide.

"Oh, hi..." You shuffle to sit up, back leaning against the headboard, "Good morning." You yawn, "When did you wake up?"

"5:00 am," Ambessa answers and stirs with a spoon that was dwarfed by her hand, the small china cup of tea on the table forms a small cloud of honey tea, "I was training."

"Oh," you watch her walk to you with the tea, grinning at her, "Thanks," you take it and take a sip from the cup, "It's really good," you say with a smile. You set the cup away, "Come here."

"I'm—" Ambessa sighs, "—sweaty."

She finishes and takes a step away from the bed. Not a big step, just a little bit distance. You sigh and extend your arms, "Get over here." You say, you knew all Ambessa wants to do, seeing your sleep-drunken figure, is hug you tight.

"I hope you know, this is less than ideal," Ambessa says but she doesn't waste a second, diving in and tackling you to lay back onto the bed. You squeak and giggle heartily. Ambessa stuffs her face in your neck and kisses down your collarbone.

"Now, it's a good morning."

PILLOW PRINCESS — PART III

A PARTY AT HOUSE CAZEA ↬ councilor!sevika x fem!piltie!reader // 5k words

SUMMARY: Your mother suggests that you host a welcome party for Sevika. The problem? Too many to count.

TAGS: 18+ only! evil mothers, toxic yuri, smut, infidelity

NOTES: this chapter has everything yaaaayyyy

-> READ ON AO3 | PILLOW PRINCESS MASTERLIST

That evening, your parents stroll through the doors of your home shortly after you finish your bath, your mother joining you in the bathroom as your father's booming laughter echoes up to the second floor.

“I am very disappointed in you, dear.”

“What did I do this time, Mother?” you ask with a sigh, leaning over the sink to apply your night cream.

“You never told me that there was a Zaunite in our midst. I had to hear it from Abigail's aunt—who, by the way, is looking dreadful nowadays.”

You meet her gaze in the mirror, rubbing the excess cream over the back of your hands. “What's your point?”

This time of night, you've been drained of the energy needed to both entertain her dramatics and feign interest. Can barely manage both on a good day.

“My point is that we must be the first House to host her. This is a historic time we're living in, dear girl, and unless you want our name to wither away into obscurity, you need to plan ahead. Think of your children, and their children, and—”

“Mother.” You turn around to grasp her by the arms, shocking her out of her building monologue. “I understand your concerns, but my responsibilities are a bit short-sighted at the moment.”

She sniffs, raises her chin to look down her nose at you. “As soon as you see her, extend the invitation to your home. Unless you want me to do it.”

You would rather slowly impale yourself on the iron fence in the gardens.

“It’ll be done.”

Her insistence that your home hosts the party is unsurprising. No better power play to display your inheritance of wealth and influence to all of Piltover’s affluent.

Her painted lips curl into a tight smile, bracelets jingling as she pats you on the cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Your mother’s orders prove more difficult than you originally thought. Sevika has turned into a ghost over the last three days, and you hoped to spot her in the halls, or the pavilion, or the garden in the backyard, but the blasted woman has vanished.

Thus leaves only one desperate option: her office. The thought of seeing her again makes your lungs twist inside your chest, but the lingering anger from your argument doesn't sway the need to protect her from your witch of a mother for as long as possible. She's dealing with enough. No need to add to it.

Luckily for you, she stands in front of her office with a book tucked tight between her thighs just as you step out of yours.

“Councilor. Just the person I wanted to see.”

She looks at you out of the corner of her eye, struggling with the lock on the door. “I’m busy.”

You ignore her. “My mother extends an invitation to meet at my home. A welcome party, of sorts. If you value the future of Zaun, I suggest you come dressed in your best clothes.”

After a moment, the lock opens with an audible click, and she grabs the book to tuck it beneath her arm. “I'm not some dog you can order around.”

“You can decline if you wish, but given the nature of your goals and our previous agreement, I assumed that meeting the most influential family in the city would interest you.” You shrug. “Perhaps I was wrong.”

Speaking with her so formally, the same way you speak to everyone else in Piltover, hurts you in a way you can't explain. But perhaps it's for the best. Keeping your distance to focus on more important things than your odd infatuation.

Like building a family. You haven't forgotten about that whole ordeal. Gods, if only you could.

“I don't even know where you live,” she says, low and resigned.

Above everything, you hate this for her.

“I'll give you an invitation tomorrow. It should have everything you need.”

With a sigh, she nods her head, and you stroll back into your office.

.

.

.

Sevika steps into the grand foyer and the entire party grinds to a halt. Fifteen minutes late, soaked by the rain, looking almost regal in her brown and gold outfit. Even switched out the piercing below her bottom lip to match the gold of her jacket buttons.

The throng of people part for both you and Tristan as you descend the steps and approach her. You plaster on your best smile for the crowd, twirling your wedding ring around its finger.

“Councilor, I would like to formally introduce you to our home.” You rest a hand on Tristan's shoulder, and he steps forward.

He gives her his name, offering a hand for her to shake. “It's very nice to finally meet you, ma’am.”

She looks down at his hand, then at you, then back at his hand, and the next time your gazes meet, you widen your eyes and give a slight jut of your chin in his direction. She shakes it after a breath-holding moment, greeting him with a sharp nod.

“Might we interest you in some refreshments?” he asks, taking a step back to loop an arm around your waist. Her eyes dart to the movement as he waves a hand, beckoning her to follow.

The crowd parts once again as you lead her to the kitchen, whispers and stares cloaking you like a second skin as your ever-curious family indulges in the new wave of gossip.

When the three of you step inside, the kitchen bustles with cooks and servants and guests alike. A grand space made to fit thirty people at once, stocked with the best appliances and gleaming, marble countertops. Stunning chandeliers on each side of the room, flower-filled vases recently watered, candelabras casting a warm glow about the space.

She takes the glass of champagne you offer with a curious furrow to her brow, bringing it to her nose for a sniff.

“Don’t worry, it’s very good. My love’s favorite, actually,” Tristan says with a bright smile, pulling you into his side.

He looks down at you just as she raises a brow, and you meet his loving gaze with a shy smile of your own. The stress of the night threatens to cave your chest in, to stop the flow of your heart. A secret you share with the past, one-night lover stood across from you, and the husband who knows nothing about your sexual… proclivities—an unbelievably awkward situation to be in. A plot fit for a forbidden romance book.

No. Perhaps a thriller, instead. At the end, the princess is stripped of all titles and exiled from her land for bringing shame upon her family.

“Right,” she says, tone deadpan before she downs her champagne in two gulps and sets the glass back on the table sprawling with food and drink.

In that moment, your mother strolls in with the too-strong smell of jasmine perfume, destroying any semblance of a good mood you might have managed to recover.

“My dear girl.” She kisses you hard on the cheek, breath stinking of the harder liquor you keep hidden in your personal stash. “Oh, this party is simply wonderful. You’ve outdone yourself for our new guest.”

With a sway to her step, she walks over to Sevika, barely skirting the hand you grab her arm with. You curse inwardly, shooting the Councilor a pitying look before turning toward the presence of your father just over your shoulder.

“I warned her against the liquor, dear,” he mutters, head lowered to your ear. “But you know how the blasted woman is. Stubborn on her best day.”

Your mother wheels a bewildered Sevika away from the kitchen with an arm notched in her elbow, speaking in a rush. “I simply must introduce you to my sisters. They’ve been so excited to finally meet someone from the Undercity. Oh, but it’s Zaun now, isn’t it? Did you know that my daughter was one of the only Councilors appealing for your city’s recognition, and by the gods, she actually did it! I admit, I had my doubts, but—“

Her voice trails off as the bustling crowd swallows them up, and you heave a sorrowful sigh. Gods bless her.

Tristan leads you around the room to mingle, catching up with third cousins twice removed, meeting the grandchildren of your great aunts and uncles, cooing at the babies born of your distant in-laws. It all happens in a rush of questions and suggestions and applauding of your achievements. Everyone asks when you’ll be having children, if you’re pregnant, why you aren't pregnant yet—all questions you expected given the size of your family tree, but no less invasive and uncomfortable. At one point, Tristan looks like he might vomit, and you excuse him on your behalf to the bathroom.

Take a breath, you whisper, hand squeezing at his bicep. It’s alright.

Your mother talks Sevika’s head off for the better part of an hour, and the next time you circle back around to spot them, Sevika looks ready to take a flying leap off the second floor balcony. You approach the pair with a smile, the neck of your most recent glass of champagne squeezed tight between your fingers.

“Why, hello. I see you’re still talking, Mother.”

She gives you a smile in return, but her eyes harden to stone. “Yes, well, there is much to talk about. As you’ve told me before, our differences are what bring us together, yes?”

You’re used to this game: the invisible tug-of-war that your mother plays so well. A war of wills, won by only the most stubborn of psyches. A good thing, then, that you’re your mother’s daughter.

“I’m sure other people would like to speak with her, Mother. To learn about their… differences.”

She must see something in your face, or doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the crowd, because she relents surprisingly fast. Turns to Sevika with a tight-lipped smile and says, “Perhaps my daughter is right.” Turns back to you. “Why don’t you take our guest on a tour of your home? Show her all that Piltover has to offer.”

More like flaunting your wealth, but she’s already given you more grace than she holds in her whole body, so you refuse to press the issue. Instead, you wave your guest along then bow to your mother upon your retreat.

You lead her through the crowd and into one of the winding hallways inside your home, heaving a breath once the last person is out of sight. “So. You met my mother.”

“Quite the character.” She leans against the wall, eyes trailing over the intricate pattern of your mother’s hand-picked wallpaper. “She talked about your husband the whole time.”

“Yes, she tends to do that.” You take a sip of your drink, mouth suddenly dry, the champagne bitter on your tongue. “I'm the failure of the family, and I ruined her chances of having more children, so she's always resented me.”

“Why?”

“Half the people you see out there are related to me in some way.” With a tired sigh, you fluff out the layered skirt of your dress and take a seat on the floor. The shoes your maid chose for the evening already threaten blisters on your heels and toes. “To put it simply: we have large families because we believe that more children means more of an opportunity to do something noteworthy for our House, and my birth seems to have cursed us. Tristan's impotence just solidifies the theory.”

She stands in silence for a long while, brows tugged together in confusion, before finally saying, “I will never understand this shit.”

You laugh for the first time tonight, chest lighter than it’s felt in weeks. “Trust me, I wish I didn't.”

Despite your previous spat, talking with her is… easy, and you wish it wasn’t. Emotional distance would benefit you greatly, but she’s seen more of your soul than every guest in your home put together—even your parents and your dear, sweet, loving husband. Her presence brings a comfort that you haven’t experienced ever in your life, so removed from all the political intrigue and House infighting that you can drop your carefully-curated act and simply be yourself.

The want to be close to her is a dangerous thing. An exhilarating, terrifying, taboo one. Your mother would lock you away to a life of solitude if she knew the inner turmoil of your thoughts.

“About last week…” she begins, shuffling in place, eyes downcast. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I still stand by most of it, but…”

“Wow. How kind of you,” you say, tone a tinge too bitter than you meant to portray.

“Look, I’m trying. Give me a break.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? I understand that things have been horrible for you, and while I don’t hold what you said against you, it still hurt. Gods, did it hurt.”

At least she has the decency to look ashamed. “It was a low blow. I can admit that.”

“If you wish to insult me, there are many things I’m guilty of being. Just—please, don’t use the only night of happiness I’ve ever experienced to mock me.”

You rise to your feet with a shake of your head, stumbling as you regain your footing against the ache in your feet. You know not to look at her right now. Too fearful that she’ll witness the build-up of tears blurring your vision. If your mother can’t make you cry, then you refuse to let her, especially over something so inconsequential.

(The most important night of your life.)

You walk down the hallway, uncaring if she follows or not, but her presence lurks a little ways behind you, boots a steady thud against the floor. Giving you much-needed space. A kindness you rarely, if ever, experience.

“So. I still need a mentor.”

Her voice stops you in your tracks. Almost teasing, her attempt at fixing your sour mood. Little does she know, your night was ruined hours ago.

“I’ll petition the Assembly to hire Shoola on Monday.”

“I don’t want Shoola. And from what I’ve read from those books you gave me, the Assembly doesn’t like to change their mind.”

Damn it. She’s right. Both of you know it.

You turn to glare at her, hands placed on your hips. “And you say I’m convincing.”

She’s closer than you originally assumed, and in three steps, she stands before you, craning her head down to look you in the eye. Such a mirror to your first meeting that you back away on instinct—right into the wall with her following behind.

“I’m learning. That’s what you wanted. Right?”

Your breathing quickens, heart a drumming beat inside your ribcage. Heat pools in the pit of your belly when rough fingers rise to adjust the sleeve of your dress, her touch inciting a buzz just beneath your skin. The trail of her knuckles across your shoulder and up the pulse of your neck threatens to buckle your knees.

When was the last time you felt such arousal? Not out of need while locked away in your bathroom with a hand beneath your night dress, but visceral want at the touch of another?

Three years. You know when. Remember it vividly, dream about it, fantasize about the touch of her hand and the slick heat of her tongue as you lay beneath your husband.

He could never compare.

She leans down, lips ghosting against the curve of your ear. “For what it’s worth, I like it when you’re on your back.”

She mouths at the delicate skin just below your ear, and you shudder, hands rising to the curve of her waist, the fabric of her coat soft beneath your touch.

“My… my bedroom is just down the hall, if you—“

She exhales a laugh, teeth teasing along your pulse. “Do you invite all your new guests to your bedroom, princess?”

“Only the ones I like.”

“Short list?”

“You have no idea, Councilor.”

She lets you whisk her down the empty hall to the double doors of your bedroom. Once inside, she walks around, inspecting the only lived-in space in the entire house. The beauty products on your vanity, two stacks of sleep clothes on the end of the bed, a childhood stuffed animal you brought from your parents' home sat in the armchair near the balcony.

She chooses the small, one-eyed bunny to pick up. Turns it over in her hand, thumbs at its matted fur.

“I would’ve killed for one of these when I was a kid, but my old man couldn't afford it.” Her lips stretch into a sad, almost bitter smile. “My aunt made one for my birthday out of this old jacket she couldn't wear. I fucking loved that thing.” She sets the bunny back down, trailing her fingers over a floppy ear. “Don't know what happened to it. Probably in a box somewhere.”

You're unsure why she tells you this. Many reasons, you suppose. Highlighting the different lives you've lived, sharing a personal anecdote, or maybe she just misses her family.

Regardless, “I'm sorry.”

She looks up at you, grey eyes stormy and shimmering. “I didn't tell you for pity.”

“I'm not pitying you. I'm just… sorry.” You curl yourself around the nearest bedpost, fingers tracing the intricate carvings in the wood. “After I left the brothel, I saw this mother and child sitting in the street, starving to death. I gave them all the gold I had, but I wanted to do more. I wanted to ensure that nobody would ever have to live like that.”

You push away from the bed then walk over to her. “You asked me what my dream was for Zaun? It's that nobody starves in the street, and parents can afford to buy their children toys.”

She shakes her head as you step up beside her. “And if it’s not possible?”

“All we can do is try.” A forefinger catches on her pinky, pulling her hand to yours. “But I need your help. Nobody knows that place like you do.”

Your other hand rises to cup her face, thumb tracing the blue scars on her cheek. Back and forth and back and forth as she stares down at you, eyes searching your face for… something. You brush the hair out of her eyes, only for the strands to immediately fall back into place.

Her brows dip into a furrow. “Whatever you think is between us, it can't go anywhere.”

“Won’t or can’t?”

“Does it matter?”

“The difference lies in the degree of willingness: between those in the relationship, or that of an outside influence. So, which are we? Won’t or can’t?”

She thinks for a moment, glancing off to the side, before her eyes meet yours again.

“Both,” she mutters.

And then your lips meet in a desperate kiss, both of you surging forward at the same exact time. Her lone arm tugs you against her, so steadfast your lungs threaten to deflate as your hands curl over the nape of her neck to pull her closer. The kiss is hungry, angry—her, that she wants this; you, that you’ve gone so long without it. Her mouth is soft, and she tastes of champagne and berry cocktail, tongue hot and curling inside your mouth.

You’ve never experienced such raging desire. Had it projected onto you many a time, by the leering gazes of older men looking for a trophy wife, the young suitors with their tomcat libidos. But never like this: being desired and desiring in return.

She walks you back toward the bed, lips an overwhelming chaos against your own. Uses your body for her pain, her anger, her grief—jerks your dress off your shoulders, bites down hard on the skin covered by your sleeve, grabs you by the waist and lays you back on the bed. Beneath you, your dress crumples, and you briefly consider the fabric wrinkling (what that means for your put-together propriety) before she's kissing you again, and every thought pertaining to the people outside this room dissolves in whisps of smoke.

She buries her face in your neck, panting, shoulders tense beneath your palms. Hisses under her breath, “What the fuck am I doing?”

You lay frozen beneath her, legs spread to make room for her hips, snapped back to the present with a sweeping chill of recognition. Her question echoes in your own mind, over and over again, because what are you doing? Succumbing to lust beneath a woman in the very spot your husband sleeps in, while he and your parents and extended family chat a hallway away. You should hate yourself. Should stand up and tell her that this can’t continue, but you’ve never been known for your self-control, and the hand she slides up your inner thigh makes your hips twitch in anticipation.

"Shit—tell me to stop," she grits, sat on her haunches to peer down at you, hair a curtain around her eyes as she works your dress over your hips.

Why would you ever do such a thing? You've been dreaming about this for three years now. Yearning for her touch every time you lay down in this very bed.

"I don't want to," you say, voice little more than a whisper as you guide her hand to the gusset of your silk underwear, already–

She groans, tracing her thumb around your clit, the fabric sticking to the outline of your pussy. "So wet. All this for me?"

You nod, a desperate whimper trapped in your throat—the sound punched from your lungs when she slips a finger beneath the hem and feeds it into you. Thick and long as you remember, curling and twisting to make room for another. She knows exactly what to do. Massages all your sensitive spots, thumbs over your clit, brushes against your cervix when she thrusts in deep. A master of her craft, plays your body like an instrument.

Beneath her jacket, the muscles of her arm flex and shift deliciously, pretty eyes downcast to gaze between your legs, and you reach up to comb a hand through her hair so you can see her face. Still soft and thick, face equal parts handsome and beautiful. The most stunning woman you've ever seen.

You pull her in for a kiss by the back of her neck, and her weight topples over, chest heavy against yours. Gods, you forgot that her only arm is currently occupied.

"Sorry," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek and curling an arm around her shoulders.

"You could've warned me," she grumbles, rolling to the side to lay next to you.

You hook a knee over her hip, pussy blooming around the fingers still buried inside you. "I know. 'm sorry."

She nuzzles against your cheek, sinks her teeth into the curve of your jaw as her fingers quicken their pace. The slick squelch of your pussy makes your ears burn, and she begins to mock you:

Letting me fuck you with your ring on? What would your husband think?

Haven't been this wet in three years, I bet.

Does your husband know you're this easy?

Her words really shouldn't affect you the way they do. You should be angry at the mention of your husband, the reminder of your infidelity, but somehow, she knows exactly what you need. Knows that her humiliation sends you crashing into a breath-stealing orgasm.

(Nobody in Piltover would dare talk to you in such a way, and maybe that's the appeal. Her dragging you off your golden pedestal to remind you that you're still human.)

She coos into your ear, says, "There you go," as you clench hard around her fingers, head thrown back against the sheets. Your teeth threaten to break from how hard you clench your jaw, each moan dying in your throat.

You have to be quiet. Nobody can know.

The afterglow bathes you in guilt. Boneless, relieved, calm guilt. She stuffs her slick fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean on instinct, meeting the heat of her gaze. Her eyes flicker over your face before settling on the pucker of your lips, their shade of grey dark and cloudy.

The advent of a thunderstorm.

When she pulls away, her fingers slick with saliva, you slide a hand over her hip, skin warm beneath her trousers.

"Can I return the favor?"

She exhales a humorless laugh. Says, "No need. I have people for that."

Jealousy has no place swirling around in your gut, considering where you met her in the first place. But you can't help it. What do these people have that you don't? Why are they good enough for her?

"Why not me?"

She sits up then moves to the edge of the bed. "I like my women to know what they're doing."

"I've never even—" Stop. There's no point. "Fine."

You aren't sure why you're even here anyway. Why she infatuates you so. Why you want so badly to prove yourself worthy, to please her. You come from completely different worlds. This will only end in tragedy.

Then why—why—do you insist on making the situation so difficult for yourself?

"Fix your lipstick," is the last thing she says before leaving the bedroom.

Once again, you're alone. For the first time in your life, after years of basking in the silence of an empty room, you wish it weren't true.

But you heed her advice. Straighten out your dress, fix the state of your makeup, flatten down your unruly strands of hair. By the end, you look fairly presentable again. Nobody should know that you just cheated on your husband.

You stroll back to the lively party with the ghostly stretch of her fingers between your thighs, each step leading you closer to the hum of music and a bustling crowd teetering on drunkenness.

Aunt Elise catches you at the final stretch of hallway, reaching out a hand for you to take. "My sweet girl. What a lovely party you've set up for us."

She pulls you into a one-armed hug, the other busy holding her drink, and you pray that your dousing of perfume covers up any… lingering scents.

"Nice to see you, Auntie."

She steps away then pins you with a sharp look over the rim of her glass. “So. Our new guest cuts a nice figure, doesn't she?”

You stiffen at the mention of Sevika, her warm hand and soft lips on you lingering fresh at the back of your mind. Her quick exit, too.

“I suppose.”

“Don't tell me you haven't noticed, dear girl. You took your sweet time on that house tour.”

Ah. Just like Aunt Elise to stick her nose in everything—especially where it doesn’t belong. A favorite pastime of hers.

“We had… matters to discuss. About Piltovan law.”

Her head tilts to the side, eyes thinning in confusion. “Is that why your sleeve is ripped?”

You jolt to attention, pulling your arm to your face to inspect the fabric.

And then she laughs, half-collapsing against the wall. “Oh, I just knew it! I knew it! You weren't as subtle as you thought, you know.”

Your heart drops like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach as the last of her giggles fade. You might be sick, right here on the floor, and she steadies you with wide eyes and a hand on your elbow.

“No, my dear, it's alright. I've known for a very long time." A soothing hand rubs over your arm. "This changes nothing.”

You fall into the hug she offers, chin perched atop her shoulder. She smells like lavender and lemongrass, clean and earthy. “Please don't tell anybody. I'm begging you, Auntie.”

“Your secret is safe with me. It has been for years, alright?”

At least you have two people now that know. Two people that you trust to keep your world-ending secret. Aunt Elise is your favorite family member for a reason. She’s always treated you like a person, always gave you the reprieve of freedom at her home when your mother’s incessant hovering drove you half-mad. As a child, she let you dirty your skirt in her garden and carry bugs in your pockets and climb the fruit trees in her backyard and never once yelled at you about propriety or femininity or the price of girlhood.

Maybe the six children she gave birth to, the last two—a set of twins—that she raised as a grieving widow, helped shape her worldview into something more delicate than your mother and the rest of her sisters.

“My poor, sweet girl. I don't envy you one bit.”

“How did you know?”

She hums, the vibration passing through to your chest. “There were signs. You never much looked at the boys like you did the girls, and don't get me started on you running off every suitor your mother lined up for you.”

So, you truly weren't as subtle as you thought.

“And Mother doesn't know?”

“She used to suspect, but you know how she is. As long as she gets what she wants, nothing else matters.”

Mother knowing your preferences and ignoring them for her benefit makes your situation even worse because it isn't surprising in the slightest. Self-serving witch. Can't have a daughter who prefers women. No, that won't do. How else will she continue the precious family bloodline?

A cold hand cups your chin, and you meet your aunt's severe gaze.

"Don't let anybody rule your life. You only have one to live."

With those words, she turns and enters the ballroom.

Being touch starved and touch repulsed at the same time is such a weird combination, as if two totally different entities reside within me, one part loves hugs, holding hands, etc, another part is scared to even give a simple high-five.....like how do I deal with it I want a partner to hug her, give her hugs and kisses but at the same time i am like ew humans ew :( such a dilemma

“i can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with” modern Vi au ? 🩷

✮⋆˙𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 modern!vi x reader ✮⋆˙𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 none ✮⋆˙𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 hi so i had this little thing in my drafts and changed a few things to fit the request !! i hope you like it ♡︎ also - modern vi has a special place in my heart (i just know she'd be a smug bastard)

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

Vi was sprawled across the bed, shirtless, hair still damp from her shower, one arm lazily slung around your waist. You were both on your phones, legs tangled under the covers. Her thumb scrolled absently, while yours hovered over your latest post.

You tried to act casual, but Vi caught the smirk you were failing to hide.

“What did you do?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

You bit your lip, turning your phone so she could see the photo — a perfectly timed shot of her mid-workout, abs flexed, expression intense, the caption: “yes, she’s mine. no, you can’t have her.”

Vi blinked. “When did you even take that?”

“I have my ways.”

A beat of silence. Then her phone buzzed.

“Oh my god.” She stared at the flood of likes and comments. “‘Vi could ruin my life and I’d say thank you’? Damn.” She let out a low whistle. “These people are thirsty.”

You laughed. “Can you blame them? Look at you.”

Vi rolled onto her side, grinning. “You like showing me off, huh?”

You shrugged, smug. “You’re hot. I’m proud.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against your neck, voice dropping. “Keep talking like that and I’ll give ‘em something new to thirst over.”

“Vi!” you squeaked, pushing at her chest as she laughed.

“You started it,” she said, scrolling again. “Wait—this one says ‘gym? I thought she carried hay bales on a ranch and threw people for fun.’”

You raised a brow. “Did they lie?”

Vi chuckled, clearly loving every second of it. “Nope. But now I feel like I should go shirtless more often.”

“Please don’t,” you deadpanned. “I don’t need a full-blown internet meltdown.”

She winked. “Too late. I am the meltdown.”

You groaned and buried your face in her chest. “Why are you like this?”

She kissed the top of your head. “Because you love me, i can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with”.”

You roll your eyes at her, smug idiot - unfortunately, you really, really did.

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.