Latest Posts by blasphemous-riot - Page 4

Sevika is the pe teacher and reader is the English teacher and reader is sweet to all the students and everyone loves her but sevika is more on the strict side, doesn’t actually matter what’s the plot i just need teacher!sevika x teacher!reader😭🙏

HELL YES

men and minors dni

"jinx, the bell rang five minutes ago, kiddo. what class are you supposed to be in?" you ask as you walk into your classroom, blowing on your fresh cup of coffee.

this is your planning period, and you never mind having a student or two visit you, but you know jinx better than to assume she's here on her study-hall and not skipping class.

"please don't make me go, teach."

"dr. singed's chemistry class?" you guess. he's notorious for his harsh grading rubric.

jinx shakes her head. "no, no, i've got an a in chem." she huffs. "it's gym class."

you laugh. "you don't like gym? i've seen you run down the halls, you're quick as hell. figured you'd love that stuff."

"fuck no. sevika's a monster! she's making us climb ropes and do pushups-- i can barely carry my backpack to school, what makes her think i can do a fuckin' pullup!?" jinx laments.

you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. you gesture to the little corner of bean bags, blankets, and books in your class, then pull open your desk drawer. "you can stay. but if principal merdarda or sevika comes in here i'm tellin' her you told me it's your study hall."

"you'd rat me out?!" jinx cries. you grab one of the many bags of chips you store in your bottom drawer and toss it to her where she's getting cozy in the beanbag. she grins. "flamers, fuck yeah!"

"in exchange for my hospitality... you need to tell me why i saw your sister fighting with a cop at the gay bar last weekend." you request.

jinx gasps, her eyes lighting up in delight at a chance to gossip about vi-- a girl you taught a few years ago.

"you party at the hound?!" jinx asks with a giggle. you shrug.

"is that so shocking?"

"you're badass underneath that cardigan, huh, teach?" jinx teases. she stands from the corner and drags her beanbag across the classroom, situating herself in front of your desk and digging into her flamers. "okay, so, a year ago vi got arrested at a protest, right?" jinx starts.

you nod along in amusement at jinx's story, dividing your attention between her and the essays you're grading.

zaun high is small enough that you get to really know the kids that roam the halls for four years, and jinx comes from a big family with a gaggle of kids you've only ever adored. it's good to hear that her brothers are doing well, that vi's figuring herself out.

you blink up at jinx when she takes a pause between stories, snacking on her food. "so i hear you've made things official with ekko."

jinx turns bright red and she squeaks as she hides behind her braids. "shut up!"

"had to lock him down before he gets elected class president, huh?" you tease. jinx squawks.

"okay, well, what about a rumor i heard that you're dating another teacher here!" jinx accuses, pointing at you.

you giggle and shrug. "mmm... maybe... but you'll never guess which." you say.

jinx scoffs and rolls her eyes. "oh please, it's so obvious. you and profe ran are always giggling together." she says.

you laugh. ran, the spanish teacher, is a childhood friend of yours, but they're certainly not the person you're dating. "sure, it's ran."

jinx frowns and squints at you. "the new college councilor?" she guesses.

"ms. grayson?" you ask. jinx nods. you laugh again. "that's hilarious. isn't she married?"

jinx huffs. "well, i dunno! are you even dating anyone?"

the door slams open and you both jump, turning to look at sevika.

fuck. she looks good. you're pretty sure she's been wearing her shortest possible shorts just to tease you. she's been using the increasingly warm weather as her excuse.

"jinx! the fuck are you doing?" she glares at the teenager.

jinx jumps out of her beanbag and scrambles to collect her belongings. you giggle.

"put the beanbag back before you go."

"fuck." jinx mumbles, scrambling some more.

sevika turns her glare from her missing student to you, striding up to your desk. you bite your lip as you watch her thighs ripple with each step. "you're harboring fugitive students now?"

"she told me it was her study hall." you lie.

jinx groans. "you rat!"

sevika huffs and glares down at you. you shrug and blink up at her innocently. with a quick glance at jinx where she's stuffing her face with the rest of her chips over the garbage can, you hold up a folder to block your mouth and whisper up at your girlfriend. "my place tonight?"

sevika's glare melts for just a moment, and she gives you a half nod and a wink before tunring on her heel and smacking the chips out of jinx's hand. "c'mon, before i give you detention." she huffs, dragging jinx out of your class by her backpack.

"see you in third period, jinx!" you call. jinx giggles and waves to you. sevika flips you off over her shoulder.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

Helloo, I was wondering if you could do a sevika x reader but Reader got back from a mission and was just so tired that they fainted and Sevika takes care of reader. Thankk youuu i love your works so muchhh💗💗

Dizzy Love

Thank you so much for readingggg mwah <333

You were so exhausted by the end of your mission, legs wobbly and hands tired from carrying the heavy loads and bags.

Your shoulders hurt too and you would kill for a peaceful massage. As you stalked to the door, your body felt like it'd fall apart any moment. You grabbed the doorknob, heaving a sigh and opening it with your key.

The moment you stepped passed the threshold, Sevika scrambled to her feet to greet you. Not really with words, just a silent stare at you as she checks you out and assess whether you have any injuries or not.

"How was it?" Sevika finally grumbled. She didn't miss the way your head swayed a little as you closed the door behind yourself.

"Baby..." You began but then your body gave away and the darkness crept into the frames of your vision. Your body hit the floor with a thud, Sevika rushed forward.

Her eyes were wide but she didn't say anything. "Fuck." She cursed under her breath as she picked you up bridal style with no strain.

Sevika got you to the bedroom and started peeling your clothes off slowly to let your skin out and help you breathe better.

She propped a pillow up under your legs to elevate the blood and massaged your body simply to ground herself.

"You'll be okay." She mumbled more to herself than you. Sevika pressed a kiss on your forehead and stroked your hair as she waited for you to wake up.

You stirred a little, eyes fluttering open slowly as you scrambled a little. Sevika squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "Baby, are you okay?" Sevika whispered.

"I'm okay..." You tried to get up but Sevika pushed you down, shoving a glass of water in your hands. You smiled weakly and took a few sips of water. "Did I pass out?"

"Yeah. Guess you pushed yourself too hard." Sevika stroked your hair, taking the empty glass away and settling it on the bedside table. "Just let me pamper you, 'kay?"

You smiled up at her and nodded. "I love you."

"I love you too, angel."

Omg im so super done with fragile helpless reader!!! Pls do sevika and reader freshly dating or even just seeing each other, they’re still still getting to know each other and sevika being herself she LOVES to tease and annoy reader and show off her strength and stuff expecting reader to be to be helplessly weaker than her, however when reader get fed up enough they start fighting back ^playfully^ and sevika making a mental note to not take readers warning for granted🙏🏼 basically reader unexpectedly humbling sevika

Challenge Accepted

"Look me in the eye and say that again." You said in a more gravely voice that usual as you shifted into a better sitting position, glaring daggers into Sevika's gaze.

This wasn't the first time Sevika underestimated your strength or wit. She had the habit of doing that because of the sheer fact she was so darn old and had seen a lot.

You admitted it, yeah she'd seen some shit in life but that didn't automatically mean she was untouchable.

"I dont think you'd be able to take me in a fight." Sevika repeated and put out the cigarette she was smoking in the ashtray on the bedside table.

"Oh, yeah?" You repositioned yourself so you were now over her thighs, straddling them. "Are you challenging me?"

"Why yes, sweetheart." Sevika stared at you with amusement, one eyebrow raising.

"Challenge accepted." You whispered and got off her.

Sevika blinked in mild shock before slowly getting off the bed too, to stand in front of you.

Sevika easily towered over you. But that didn't faze you really, you'd come to terms with the fact you were short as fuck compared to her.

"You really wanna do this?" Sevika asked as she crossed her arms, both flesh and mechanical arms flexing as she did so.

"You scared?" You taunted as Sevika flexed her flesh bicep purely to annoy you non-verbally.

And it worked.

It ticked you off.

You charged at her, but Sevika being taller than you took advantage of her height.

She scooped you up with ease, pinning you to the wall. "Angel, just accept it. You're weaker than me." There was no heat behind her words as she said it though. It was more playful than anything.

You simply gave her an amused look before locking your legs around her waist and grabbing her flesh hand, pressing down on the shoulder nerve making her wince and pull her arm back.

Because she did so, she let go of your frame giving you the opportunity to push her on the bed with all your strength and pinning her hands down with both your legs.

You grinned victoriously at her.

"Gremlin." Sevika whispered under her breath. You let up and let her get out of your grasp, Sevika flexed her mechanical arm and it's fingers before letting out a soft sigh.

"Fine, you win."

You smiled and laid back down in the bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight.

"Wipe that look off your face." You pulled Sevika close.

"Hmph."

She was clearly sulking. What a sore loser. But that's fine. She was yours after all.

As you laid down beside her, Sevika wrapped her flesh arm around you. You grinned a little and wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her making her chuckle.

"Even though I am prideful, I correct my errors if I notice them." Sevika kissed your forehead, it was a silent promise of always respecting your strength. That's all you needed.

Can I ask for a counselor!Sevika and reader with social anxiety? And Sevika has to attend those fancy "parties" of the Council, and there are so many people there, the reader feels uncomfortable (she doesn't cry, but almost), and Sevika notices and takes her out of there and comforts her? Sorry if this is confusing, I'm writing this in the middle of the night and a little sleepy!! Thanks (And forgive me if I wrote something wrong, English isn't really my first language...)

-🦇

i love me some sappy sevika. here u go!!! hope its okay! <3 (also don’t sue me i couldnt find a good maroon button up pic. i’m sorry. luv u.)

never really alone

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sevika x reader fluff

It was nighttime, the moon gleamed down on you as you looked perfect. Your hair was styled, had on the most beautiful gown that Sevika picked out just for you, and your makeup was flawless. Everything about you was perfect. Except, you didn’t feel perfect. You felt the dress synching your waist in, making it hard to breathe. Your hair and face felt heavy, and the unnecessarily tall heels pinched your feet. But alas, you were doing this for your wife, so none of that mattered to you. You’d be able to suck it up just this one night for her, just for this one party.

The two of you walked in through the large doors, hand in hand. The immediate buzzing sound of people chattering, drinks pouring, and fancy music hit you like a truck. You gulped, squeezing Sevika’s hand, looking over at her. She looked straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed (per usual; she has a resting bitch face), maroon button up blouse semi tucked into her black slacks, belt buckle shining in the light. You could feel your cheeks flush underneath all the foundation as you stared, admiring but also trying to find comfort in her face. She looked over at you, eyebrows immediately relaxing, giving you a small smile.

“You ready, princess?” She asked, squeezing your hand back. A little sign to show that she had you, no matter what. You felt your tense body loosen up a bit, breathing out deeply, and nodding.

“Yes,” You started, smiling back. “I-I’m ready.” You pushed those words out of your mouth the best you could. Of course you weren’t ready. If it were up to you, the two of you would be at home, snuggled up watching a movie. Before you could even second guess your answer, she began to walk forward, leading you into the drowning sound. You followed behind her, of course. Those stupid heels were already hurting, so it definitely took you a second to catch up.

You knew Sevika didn’t necessarily enjoy these parties, but she had to show up and put on a face as best she could (which… was never really her best, you could tell she hated it). So you knew you probably wouldn’t be there long. All you had to do was suck it up and push the anxiety down as best you could for an hour or two.

Right?

As you were caught up in your own thoughts, you felt Sevika’s grip loosen and let go from your hand, making you snap back to reality. Your head snapped up, eyes darting towards her.

“Sevika! Glad you could make it,” Someone (of importance, you assumed) said, leading her away. You didn’t care much about seeing their face, your eyes stayed glued on Sevika. “There’s some people here who want to meet you. Follow me?”

She looked back at you, almost like she was asking for permission without actually asking. You couldn’t possibly hold her back from this, doing her job. So you forced the best smile you could, nodding. “Go ahead, darling. I’ll be here.”

She sighed annoyingly at the request, but smiled back at you. “Thank you. I’ll keep my eye on you, don’t stray too far. Okay?” She said before turning around and walking away. You watched her until she got lost in the crowds, leaving you by yourself. Your breath hitched once you lost sight of her, fingers twiddling as the panic began to settle in. You shook your head around, trying your best to push the feeling down.

I’m a grown being, I can do this. I can totally do this. You thought to yourself, trying to fake it till you make it. With the bit of courage you had, you made your way to the bar area, grabbing one of the drinks that were being given out. You sipped on it, face immediately twisting up. The alcohol tasted bitter, the cranberry juice doing absolutely nothing to mask the flavor, making it hard to swallow. You gulped it down as best you could anyway. You figured maybe getting a little buzz might cool the anxiety down, I mean, it didn’t hurt to try.

…So you picked up another drink after forcing down the first. You walked around, exploring the place, which was huge. I mean, truly, there was no ending to it. Halls after halls, multiple doors, stairs that led to Gods knows where. It seemed like you were doing fine. You were almost confident in yourself, dress shimmering, hair shiny, lashes batting.

Until… a group of women began to walk towards you. You stood there at first, trying to look nonchalant. I mean, no way they were coming to you. Right? Wrong.

“Hey! You’re Sevika’s wife, aren’t you?” One of them questioned, eyes gleaming as she stared. “Wow, what a beauty. She’s certainly lucky, isn’t she?” All of them giggled, touching your hair and dress. You felt it creeping up again, that same feeling that was always lingering in the pit of your stomach.

You cracked a smile anyway, hesitating before responding. “Y-Yeah, I’m her wife. Thank you. I should go find her, actually.” Was the best you could do. You figured you were coming off as rude, but these ladies did not catch the hint.

“What? Going so soon! Tell us more about her, she’s such a drag to work with usually. How could her cranky self wife up someone like you?” Another of them commented, their giggles turning into loud laughter. You could tell this was drunken banter, but that didn’t seem to help you at all. The feeling began to grow bigger, heavier, pushing down on your chest. It slowly became hard to breathe as their words overlapped, molding into something you couldn’t understand. Your chest was rising and falling too fast, so fast you couldn’t keep up. Your hands gripped on the cup, squeezing hard, shaking as they continued. How could they possibly not catch the hint? You regretted telling Sevika yes. Yes to joining her, yes to walking in, yes to letting her go join the others. You felt your eyes begin to water, hot tears beginning to build up, begging for their release. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, totally fucking path-

“Ladies,” Sevika’s husky voice broke your internal battle. The women immediately peaked over your head, looking at her as she stood behind you. She grabbed onto your waist, pulling you in. “Looks like you’ve bothered my wife enough. It’s about time you get going.” She said, voice stern and low. They smiled awkwardly, nodding and agreeing as they walked away, mumbling not so nice things under their breaths.

You felt Sevika grip onto your hand, leading you outside to the balcony, closing the doors behind you. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, making you spill your drink along the tile floor as you held onto her, face nuzzling in her neck. Although she was squeezing a little, you felt like you could finally breathe. Her hand ran down your back, then up again, rubbing it slowly.

“I’m sorry I left you alone, princess. Are you okay?” She said as she pulled away, cupping your face in her hands, her grey eyes full of worry. You held onto her hands as did so, resting your head against them. The anxiety began to melt away as you stared into her eyes, felt her skin against yours, her scent wrapping around you. This was your safe place.

“I’m okay,” You said, eyes closing, taking it all in. “I’m sorry I freaked out. Did I ruin it for you?”

“Of course not, I get whatever I want around here. So, my work for tonight is done.” She said, scoffing a bit.

Your eyes opened, immediately raising an eyebrow at her, giggling at her sassy remark. “Is that so?”

“It is so, and you know what it is I want now?” She asked, leaning closer into your face.

You giggled. “What does her highness want now, hm?”

She suddenly grabbed your waist, pulled you in, then kissed you. It was a soft and slow kiss, taking the time to feel her lips melting into yours. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Her soft and salty lips, gentle yet secure hands holding you, her care for you. She was your heaven. She pulled away, smiling softly, staring into your eyes. “I want us to go home and have the night to ourselves.” The moonlight hit her face just right. Her eyes glistened as she looked at you, skin glowing, and muscles showed through her shirt.

Your heart fluttered, ears reddening up a bit. Gods, you were so in love with her. The corners of your mouth lifted up into a toothy smile, one that Sevika absolutely adored. “I’d love that, Vika.” You said, pushing her hair back to get a better look of her face in that moment. You wanted to remember this, have this memory of her forever.

She grabbed onto your hand, kissing it softly, then looked back down to you. “By the way, alcohol is horrible for anxiety.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden comment. “How… did you know?” You questioned, blinking quickly.

“I tasted it all in your mouth, babe.” She started as she began to lead you back inside. “Plus, I had my eye on you the entire time, you were never really alone. I’d never do that to you.”

You blushed, smiling at her comment as the two of you walked back inside. She wasn’t usually this sappy, but when she was, you ate it up. You’d definitely bring up how hot her need to always protect you was later. She quickly said her goodbyes, brushing off the small talks, then led you outside the giant doors you had came in from. You couldn’t help but stare at her lovingly the entire time, wanting nothing more than to kiss her over and over. Maybe do even a little more than that, but you’d save that for the bedroom.

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.

Headcanons

Sevika x Motherly!Reader

When she says she's cold even while you're half asleep, you get up all the way to adjust the duvet so it covers her fully and sometimes even make sure she's double layered to ensure she's warm

You make her tea all the time while she's home so she doesn't get a chance to drink alcohol, although she acts annoyed about it— she knows you're just looking out for her

You clean up after her regularly and nag at her for being messy, Sevika kisses you to shut you up but the moment she pulls back you're back on your rambling

You yell at her for getting hurt but you're worried deep down, Sevika often doesn't say a lot (she knows you're worried) but she tries to reassure you that everything's alright

Sevika tries to quit smoking for you because she sees how it hurts you

Sevika sees the way you view little kids and plans on giving you some of your own once Zaun is finally in a good position, however will always refuse to speak of it

You force her to have a self care routine, Sevika thinks it's useless but oh well

You don't let her boss you around, it's quite the other way around really. Although, Sevika will get mad if that ruins her public image and you know it so you don't do that in public. Behind closed doors, shes a puppy awaiting your commands

You rub her back when she feels tense and give her a massage. Sevika enjoys it silently and barely will show verbal affection but the way she holds you close, you don't need words.

Even after you both have fights, you cut up fruits for her while she's working and shove the plate on her study desk while she's working on her mechanical arm. Sevika smirked after you leave.

Sevika likes it when you oil and massage her scalp before hair wash days. But she'd rather die than admit it— it would make her look soft.

The first time you kissed her scars and told her they were beautiful, Sevika didn't believe your words. But eventually, seeing how much you just trace and kiss them, she's come to terms with it.

You always make sure she's well-fed and ensure she's not living off of cigarettes and alcohol

Sevika is somehow good at chores and she helps you around the house during her off days. She follows you around though and won't agree to do separate chores because "you could get hurt" but you don't believe her. You just know she wants to spend time with you

You slap sense into Sevika when she is too high on Shimmer

I was wondering if you could do something about Ambessa with a reader who is a high-ranking military officer (colonel, commander, general, captain, etc.) or someone very important. (I just need to know how she would behave towards an "equal") thank u sm! ♥

♡♥︎Unyielding Resolve♥︎♡

The war room was dimly lit, the faintest sliver of sunlight breaking through the dark curtains, casting muted shadows over the long, polished table where the world’s most powerful figures had gathered. Ambessa Medarda stood at the front, her regal stature towering above the rest. Her gaze was intense, as always, her sharp, amber eyes surveying each of the gathered commanders, diplomats, and soldiers, her voice commanding and clear as she presented her case.

“You must understand,” Ambessa’s voice cut through the murmur of debates, silencing the room instantly, “that our people cannot be left to suffer the consequences of your hesitations.”

You were no stranger to these kinds of meetings. A high-ranking military commander from the opposing faction, you had earned your place through years of fierce dedication, your loyalty unwavering, your skills honed to perfection. Your posture was rigid, your uniform impeccable, yet your eyes never wavered from Ambessa’s figure at the front of the room. There was an undeniable power about her—an edge that came from both the iron grip she held over her nation and the quiet, unspoken confidence that radiated from her every move. Her dark hair, tied neatly at the nape of her neck, contrasted with the intricate tattoos that danced along her neck and wrists, symbols of both power and sacrifice.

She was a force to be reckoned with.

But you were too.

“You seem to misunderstand the balance we’ve achieved,” you spoke, your voice calm but firm. “Your actions only tip the scale toward chaos. The people deserve peace, not your demands.”

Ambessa tilted her head, her lips curving into something between a smirk and a challenge. The amber of her eyes gleamed with something more—an admiration, perhaps, for your defiance. Your boldness was something she respected. It wasn’t often that someone stood so firmly against her, unwavering in the face of her presence

“I respect your resolve,” she said, her words slow, deliberate. “But this… peace you speak of, Commander, comes at the expense of far too many. You know it as well as I do.”

You knew that too. But in the depths of your heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to compromise on the principles that had guided you for so long. The lives of your soldiers, your people—none of them would be sacrificed for anything less than true peace. Not under your watch.

The debate raged on, tensions rising with every passing moment, but you and Ambessa remained locked in a silent contest, the weight of the room’s words falling heavy between the two of you. It was as if the entire world faded away, and for a brief second, the only two people who mattered were you and her, the room holding its breath as you exchanged not only words but a battle of wills.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the meeting adjourned. The voices of your colleagues faded as you straightened from your seat, a deep sigh escaping your lips. You were used to the weight of these discussions, but today’s had been particularly taxing. Your mind, sharp as it was, felt clouded by the lingering tension in the air.

Before you could retreat to your quarters for some much-needed rest, you felt a presence behind you. It was familiar, the quiet, confident steps that could only belong to one person.

Ambessa

“Commander,” she said, her voice low, but carrying an undeniable command. “A word?”

You turned to face her, your gaze meeting hers once more. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, her stance proud but not unapproachable. Her gaze flickered over you, assessing you as if trying to read every nuance, every layer you carefully kept hidden. There was no malice in her eyes, no threat, just an unwavering sense of curiosity, of respect.

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your lips lifting in a quiet challenge. “What is it, Medarda?”

“Perhaps,” she began, her voice measured, “we can discuss this matter further… without the interruptions of others.” There was a flicker of something in her expression, a softness that contradicted her usual commanding demeanor. “I find that I admire your strength, Commander. Few have the courage to speak so directly to me.”

There was a flicker of surprise that passed over you, but you quickly masked it. “And what exactly do you hope to achieve by this conversation, Ambessa? Another attempt to sway me to your cause?”

Ambessa took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly, her presence still as formidable as ever, yet there was something different in the way she held herself now. There was no longer any tension between the two of you, only the quiet understanding that you were both two of the most powerful leaders in the room, capable of seeing through the facades of politics and war.

“You’ve been fighting your whole life, haven’t you?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but laced with a quiet understanding. “Against your own people, against the world around you. I can see it in your eyes, Commander. A fire that won’t go out.”

You weren’t sure if it was her words or the weight of her gaze that made your heart beat a little faster. But whatever it was, it made you pause, if only for a moment.

“I’m no different than you, Medarda,” you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest. “We both fight for our people, even when the cost is too high.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a small smile, a rare expression that seemed to soften the usual edge of her features. She stepped closer still, close enough that you could feel the heat of her body, close enough to sense the subtle shift in the air between you.

“You are,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper, “but your fight… it’s different. There’s something in you that draws me, Commander.”

Your breath caught, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy cloak. It wasn’t just the admiration she felt for your strength, you realized. There was something deeper, something that spoke to the very essence of who you were. And, despite the tension that still lingered from the meeting, despite the weight of your duties, there was a part of you that found yourself captivated by her.

Ambessa’s eyes flickered down briefly, as though contemplating something before she looked back up at you. “Come with me,” she said, her voice steady, yet there was a hint of something more—a warmth, an invitation. “I would like you to join me for dinner at my estate. A place to discuss… other matters.”

The invitation was unexpected, but not unwelcome. You couldn’t deny the allure of her presence, the way she commanded every room she entered, the way she challenged you, both intellectually and physically. She had caught you off guard with her quiet admiration, and now she was offering you a chance to see the other side of her—the side that wasn’t always masked by politics or power.

You hesitated for only a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. But then you realized: this wasn’t just about the war, or the meeting. This was about something more.

“Very well,” you said, your voice steady, yet there was a spark of curiosity in your gaze. “I’ll join you, Medarda. But know this: I’m no fool. I won’t be swayed so easily.”

Ambessa’s smile widened, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Commander.”

————————————————————————

The Medarda estate was unlike any place you had ever been. It was a perfect blend of elegance and strength, much like Ambessa herself. The estate, perched high on a cliff, had sweeping views of the valley below, the faintest touch of moonlight illuminating the sprawling gardens. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with soft candlelight flickering in every corner and the faint hum of classical music playing in the background.

Ambessa had led you to a long, polished dining table, where an elaborate spread of dishes awaited. The scents of roasted meats, rich sauces, and fresh bread filled the air, their warmth promising a night of indulgence. The table was set with the finest china, silverware gleaming in the dim light, and the glasses already filled with wine, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

You settled into your seat across from Ambessa, noting the way her posture remained impeccably straight, the elegant curve of her neck as she glanced at the dishes laid out before you. Her amber eyes met yours with an intensity that made it impossible to ignore the unspoken tension between you. There was a certain weight to the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. No, it was something far more intriguing—something far more dangerous.

The meal began in silence, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound as you both indulged in the meal. Ambessa ate with the same controlled grace that defined everything about her. Each bite was deliberate, as if she were savoring not just the food but the moment.

When she set her fork down, her eyes never left yours. “So,” she said, her voice smooth and low, laced with a subtle challenge, “how do you manage it all? The responsibility, the endless decisions, the weight of your command? It must be exhausting.”

You leaned back in your chair, savoring the bite you’d just taken. Her question had been expected—leaders like you didn’t rise to power without bearing the heavy burden of their choices. But there was something in the way she asked that made you pause, something in her gaze that suggested she wasn’t simply curious. She was testing you.

“I do what I must,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity. “Sometimes it feels like I’m balancing on a knife’s edge, but it’s what I signed up for. The duty to my people—it never stops, even when I’d like it to.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. “I can’t imagine a life without this… constant push. It’s almost… addictive, isn’t it?” Her words hung in the air, wrapped in a kind of daring playfulness that you couldn’t help but feel was aimed at you.

There was a shift in the atmosphere. Her gaze dropped briefly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, and in that split second, you knew exactly what she was doing. Testing the waters. Drawing you in. She had a way of making you feel seen in a way few others ever could.

“Perhaps,” you replied, meeting her gaze head-on, unwilling to back down. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the challenge. The thrill of the game, the strategy. It keeps things interesting.”

Ambessa chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “You have a sharp mind, Commander. I can see why you’ve earned your place. But I wonder…” Her eyes glimmered with an unreadable thought. “Do you ever think about what you want when all of this is over? When the battles have been fought and the decisions have been made?”

The question was softer this time, quieter. But the weight of it hung between you like a delicate thread, a question that neither of you had yet answered, and perhaps never would. Ambessa’s eyes didn’t leave yours as she leaned forward slightly, the golden light reflecting off her skin, making her appear even more untouchable, more mesmerizing.

You paused, your fork still in your hand as you considered her words. “I think about it,” you said, your voice low, carrying the weight of unspoken things. “But I can’t afford to indulge those thoughts. Not yet. I have too much at stake.”

Ambessa studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, her lips curved into a small, knowing smile once again. “How exhausting,” she said, a touch of humor in her voice. “Always looking ahead, never looking at what’s right in front of you.” She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving yours, and the heat in the air between you only intensified.

There was a certain magnetism about her. A quiet, unspoken tension that seemed to pull you in, urging you to confront the very things you’d been avoiding. For someone who was so composed, so measured, there was an underlying ferocity in the way she carried herself, in the way she spoke, and in the way she watched you.

The conversation shifted then, as you both continued to discuss tactics, strategies, and the political landscape, but beneath the words was an unspoken current, a thread that pulled you both closer together despite the careful control you both maintained. It was a dance—one of words, of glances, of unvoiced challenges and flirtations that neither of you dared fully acknowledge.

Ambessa’s voice was smooth as she spoke of her nation’s defenses, detailing her strategies with the kind of ease that came from years of experience. “I’ve always believed in being unpredictable,” she said, a hint of pride in her tone. “Keeping them guessing, ensuring they never know what’s coming next.”

“Sounds like something I’d say,” you replied, your smile playful, but your gaze locked on her. “It’s the only way to keep an advantage.”

Ambessa tilted her head, her expression softening ever so slightly. “I admire that,” she said, her voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t play by the usual rules.” She paused, then added with a faint smirk, “Perhaps you and I are more alike than I realized.”

The statement lingered in the air, the weight of it undeniable. You leaned in slightly, your voice quieter, more intimate. “I’d like to think so. But, of course, you’d never admit to that, would you?”

Ambessa’s gaze never faltered as she leaned forward too, her lips curling into a smile that was as dangerous as it was alluring. “I never admit to anything I don’t want to, Commander. But I’m willing to consider that… maybe I’m wrong.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you both was palpable, crackling in the air like electricity, the unspoken challenge hanging thick between you. The world outside the estate seemed so far away in that moment, as though nothing existed except the two of you and the carefully woven web of words you were spinning.

Ambessa broke the silence, her voice a low murmur that made your pulse quicken. “Tell me, Commander, do you ever think about how all of this could end?”

Your lips parted to reply, but her gaze, intense and searching, held you in place, as though she could see right through you. And in that moment, you realized something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge before: there was more to Ambessa Medarda than just power, more to her than the commanding presence she projected to the world. Beneath the surface, there was something darker, more complex, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You leaned back slightly, your tone softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t know how it ends. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder… if you and I could find a way to work together after all of this.”

Ambessa’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a split second, the air between you two was thick with possibility. Then, she reached for her wine glass, her fingers brushing the edge delicately before taking another sip. Her gaze never wavered from yours.

“We’ll see, Commander,” she said quietly, her voice both challenging and inviting. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the night stretched on, the conversation continuing to unfold between you two like the unraveling of a carefully constructed puzzle, each word, each glance pulling you deeper into the web of intrigue she had woven around you.

————————————————————————

Hello, I love ALL of your work, so if it's not too much of a hassle, I'd like to make a request. Arcane women x reader who is a very dangerous (and well-known) criminal and murderer in Zaun and Piltover, with a sadistic and manic personality. But when they meet her, they realize that the reader is quite kind and affectionate, maybe even a little shy. That's all, I hope you like my idea. Have a good day!

⋆ ☆Arcane Women x criminal!reader Headcannons

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel, Ambessa.

Genre: fluff

Warnings ⚠️: Arcane Women x reader, Fem!reader, Criminal!Reader, mentions of murder, fluff, violence implied.

-Jinx

●Jinx is OBSESSED with you the moment she meets you. She expected someone as crazy as her, and while you definitely have your moments of sadistic mania, she's delighted to find out you're actually kinda cute.

●"Wait, wait, wait-so you're tellin' me you are the one that gutted those Piltie officers like a fish? You? Awww, cupcake, you look so precious when you blush.

●She teases you constantly about how different you are from your reputation. She finds it hilarious when you get flustered, but she loves seeing that dark, twisted side of you come out when necessary. It makes her giddy.

●Jink probably tries to provoke you just to see that manic glint in your eyes because damn, it's hot when you're in killer mode.

-Vi

●Vi is wary at first. She knows your reputation, and even if she's not exactly law- abiding herself, she has to keep an eye on you. But then... she sees you being soft?

●"You, uh... you sure you're the same person everyone's scared of?" Vi watches as you carefully, wrap a strat cat in a blanket, looking all concerned.

●Once she realized you're not as unhinged as the rumor says, she finds your duality intriguing. The idea that you could be a ruthless killer yet still get nervous when she flirts with you? Oh, she loves it.

●"Damn, sweetheart. You just slit a guy's throat, and now you're all shy 'cause I called you pretty? That's adorable."

-Caitlyn

●Caitlyn has to meet you under a professional circumstances first. As an enforcer, she knows exactly who you are and what you've done. She expects a remorseless, sadistic monster, not... whatever this is.

●She watches in shock as you nervously avoid eye contact, mumbling out something polite. She expects a challenge, but instead, she gets someone who stammers when complimented?

●Caitlyn doesn't trust you at first, but once she sees you softer side, she starts questioning everything.

●"You- you're a murder. A criminal. And yet you just helped that old woman cross the street?"

●The contradictory of your personality fascinates her. She might even hesitated to arrest you.

-Sevika

●Sevika knows what kind of person you are. She heard the rumors, seen the aftermath of your work, and yet... she never expected you to be so polite.

●She initially thinks it's an act, a manipulation tactic, but the more time she spends with you, the more she realizes it's genuine.

●"So let me get this straight... you've got half of Zaun scared shitless of you, and yet you can't even look me in the eye when I call you cute?" She smirks. "That's just pathetic, doll."

●Sevika is the type to test you, pushing your buttons just to see if the rumors hold weight. When you finally snap and go full psycho mode? She grins.

●"There's my girl."

-Mel

●Mel is intrigued by you the moment she hears your name. She’s dealt with powerful people before, but someone with your reputation? That’s a different kind of influence.

●“A killer with a soft heart…" how very unusual.” She studies you like a puzzle, fascinated by the way you switch between cold-blooded and sweet.

●Mel finds your duality entertaining. She’ll say something flirtatious just to watch your confident demeanor crack.

●“For someone so feared, you do crumble quite easily under my gaze. How adorable.”

●But she’s also deeply respectful of your strength. She knows better than to underestimate you, no matter how affectionate you are.

-Ambessa

●Ambessa isn’t easily impressed, but the moment she hears about you, she’s intrigued. A dangerous, high-profile criminal? She likes power, and you have plenty of it.

●When she meets you and sees how shy you are despite your reputation, she can’t help but chuckle.

●"I expected a monster. Instead, I find a kitten.”

●She enjoys the contrast. She also enjoys watching you switch from soft to brutal in an instant. It proves you’re not weak—just selective about who sees your true self.

im craving some fluff fic right now, and I think you're going to nail this one. how about a stubborn Sevika not letting the reader take care of her when she's sick? it's like she's hiding from the reader and acting tough or silly when she's clearly not okay.

𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: A cold has recently been going on around the Undercity, and when Sevika catches it, she as stubborn as ever to try and ignore her feverish state, ultimately leading to you dealing with a messy bundle of sass.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Just a short yet silly fanfic of Sevika and a running fever (it was fun to write).

It started with a cough. Just a little thing, scratchy and low, like she’d swallowed the end of a cigar wrong. You wouldn’t have thought much of it if it weren’t for the way Sevika immediately shut up afterward, like she was waiting to see if you noticed.

You did.

The problem was that she noticed you noticing, despite her hope that you’d think she had only fallen quiet over the noise of the bar.

“Doll,” she warned, lifting a hand as if that would stop you from speaking. “Don’t.”

“Sevika—”

“I’m fine.”

Ah, here we go.

The woman had been acting off all day. She wasn’t touching her drink (which, in itself, was a glaring red flag), her usual sharp scowl had dulled into something more sluggish, and worst of all, she was being too quiet. Sevika was never loud, but she always had something to say, even if it was just some grumbled remark about how stupid someone was being. But now? She just sat there, arms crossed, looking miserable but too damn proud to admit it.

You folded your arms. “You’re sick.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re literally sweating.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“It’s the middle of winter.”

She huffed, shifting in her seat at the bar. “Then someone should fix the damn heat.”

“Sevika.” You reached out, brushing the back of your hand against her forehead before she could swat you away. Her skin was burning. You gave her a pointed look, but she just glared right back, as if sheer willpower would convince you that she wasn’t, in fact, dying of fever.

She turned away. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Stand up.”

Sevika scoffed and pushed herself up from the barstool, only for her legs to buckle beneath her immediately. If you hadn’t caught her, she would’ve face-planted right onto the grimy floor of The Last Drop.

“Uh-huh. Fine, my ass.” You tightened your grip on her waist, helping her stay upright while she grumbled against your shoulder. “C’mon, big mama. We’re going home.”

Sevika groaned, but she didn’t have the strength to argue, not when standing up alone had already proven to be too much effort.

She was sick. Really sick.

And you were about to have the worst time convincing her to let you take care of her.

The next challenge was actually getting her home.

Sevika, even half-dead with fever, was as stubborn as a damn mule. She refused to let you carry her, claiming she could walk just fine on her own. That was a bold-faced lie, of course. She nearly tripped over her own feet twice before you started guiding her yourself, one arm around her waist as you led her down Zaun’s damp alleyways toward her apartment.

She didn’t make it easy.

“You—you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she slurred, leaning heavier against you with every step.

“Yeah? You just tried to pick a fight with a mailbox.”

“It was looking at me funny.”

“Sure it was.”

She made an irritated sound in the back of her throat but didn’t argue further. Probably because she knew she’d lose.

By the time you finally got her inside and onto her bed, she was half-asleep, mumbling under her breath about how you were “too bossy for your own good.”

“And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you pried her boots off. “Now stay put while I get you some medicine.”

Sevika didn’t respond. You thought she had actually, finally, fallen asleep—until you came back with a glass of water and found the bed empty.

Your eye twitched.

“Sevika.”

No answer.

You checked the bathroom. Nothing.

The kitchen? No sign of her.

It was only when you turned toward the closet that you noticed the faintest shuffle of movement in the shadows, realizing this large woman of a girlfriend was hiding in a closet that could barely fit half her size, especially with her clothing.

You sighed. “Are you seriously hiding from me right now?”

“No.”

A blatant lie.

“You are sick,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Get back in bed.”

“I don’t need to be in bed.”

“You almost passed out earlier!”

She grumbled something incoherent, but when you stomped over and yanked the closet door open, she just squinted up at you, her tall frame awkwardly hunched in the cramped space.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She blinked. “Hey, doll.”

“Bed. Now.”

She groaned but didn’t resist when you pulled her to her feet and shoved her back toward the mattress. She collapsed onto it with a sigh, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes.

“You are so difficult,” you muttered, draping a blanket over her.

Sevika just huffed, her breathing heavy. You could tell she was exhausted, no matter how much she tried to act otherwise.

“You wanna keep pretending you’re fine,” you said, voice softer now, “or do you wanna let me take care of you?”

She hesitated.

Her pride was probably waging a violent war against the undeniable fact that she felt like shit. But after a long moment, she shifted, peeking at you from under her arm.

“Just this once,” she muttered.

Your lips twitched. “Oh? Just this once?”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

You chuckled, brushing some of her damp hair away from her forehead before pressing a cool cloth against it. She melted under your touch, though she’d never admit it.

“See? Not so bad, is it?”

She grumbled but leaned into your hand.

You’d take that as a win.

For the next day and a half, Sevika was in absolute hell. Not because of the fever, but because she had to endure you fussing over her.

You forced her to take medicine.

You nagged at her to drink water.

You made her soup, even though she swore she hated soup (yet somehow, the entire bowl mysteriously disappeared when you weren’t looking).

She complained the entire time.

“Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re literally watching me breathe, doll.”

“Making sure you still can breathe, actually.”

Sevika groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “This is worse than the fever.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I would, but you’d probably shove a spoonful of medicine in my mouth the second I opened it.”

“Damn right, I would.” You teased, half-jokingly.

Still, for all her grumbling, she didn’t stop you.

And when the fever finally broke, and her strength came back, she sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “I feel like I got run over.”

“You look like you got run over,” you teased, ruffling her already messy hair.

She scowled but didn’t swat your hand away. Instead, she glanced at you, something unreadable in her gaze.

“Thanks,” she said gruffly.

Your lips curled. “For what?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You know what for.”

You grinned. “Say it.”

“No.”

“C’mon. Just say it, baby.”

“Absolutely not.”

You poked her cheek. “Sevika.”

She grunted.

“Vikaaaa—” you cooed her name, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned into her.

She groaned, pushing your face away. “Fine. Thanks for taking care of me, you insufferable brat.”

You beamed. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes. Excruciating.”

You laughed, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead before she could complain. “You’re welcome, you stubborn thing.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d let you take care of her again next time.

Even if she would make you drag her out of the closet first.

A/N: BIG MAMA.

•⭐• Sevika x a younger, mean, femme girlfriend!

Sevika was known for her dominant, assertive aura, that's what maked her so hot. But it also meant she usually ended up with partners that levelled her out. She was used to coddling them, having to go out of her way to show affection in a way that was satisfactory for them.

•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•⭐•

That was, until she met you

You were younger than her by a good few years, the youngest she had ever let herself go for. She thought the younger the girl, the less they'd understand the way she was with her loved ones. Y'know, less worldly experience and whatever.

But you had no problem telling her off, putting her in her place, showing her tough love exactly the way she also gave it. And she found it endearing.

The rest of the undercity was scared of her, couldn't even uphold a conversation in fear of getting themselves beat. But you treated her like every other dickhead who was lucky enough to talk to you.

You could boss her around and she'd put her hands up in surrender, smirking with a "yes, ma'am"

"Sevika, get me a drink"

"open this"

"Did you just give me attitude?"

Fuck, she found it so hot. And thats why she would let you get away with it.

Multiple times, you had stopped Sevika from getting into brawls in public. She'd be all up in some guys face for looking at you the wrong way, "You wanna see what happens when you can't keep your eyes off my girl?"

"Sevika, sit down"

She'd scowl and grumble but she'd be back in her seat before you'd have to repeat yourself.

You both had your sweet moments though. And the harsh difference between those moments compared to the usual demeanor of the two of you made the moments even sweeter. Every now and then, she'd get a "Thank you, baby" or you'd compliment her the way you knew she liked, "My handsome woman". And, in return, she'd tell you how beautiful you are and how she appreciated the level of understanding you shared.

Overall, Sevika knew you were perfect for her. The perfect mix of high and low maintenance and not easily offended or knocked down. You could match her energy and double that with attitude.

Once those bedroom doors closed, however, she'd make sure you were sorry for every piece of attitude you had ever thrown at her.

thank you for the tag @abbysgolf-club (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

So here's my list<<

• Hozier- Take me to church

• Connie Francis- Stupid Cupid

• Ruth Etting - It All Belongs to me

• Rahat Fateh Ali Khan- Afreen Afreen

• Adele- Easy on me

• Avril Lavigne- Hello Kitty

• 6arelyhuman & Horrormovies- XOXO (Kisses hugs)

• Cavetown- fall in love with a girl

• Atif Aslam- Tu Chahiyew

Aurora- The Seed

• Taylor Swift- Safe and sound

• Chappel Roan- Femininomenon

• Olivia Rodrigo- Brutal

• Lana del Ray- Dark Paradise

• Twenty One Pilots- The line

My tags are @ditzycafe and @IIIIzn9090

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 | 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

18+ minors please dni ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙content warnings: somno, cnc, scissoring, pervert!sevika

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧

the sheets rustled as sevika groaned herself awake. she awoke in a cold sweat that made every piece of fabric cling on any patch of skin it could find. sevika has never awoken from such a disgustingly, filthy dream. but the longer she’s awake the further the dream slips away from her. the last affects of the sex dream remain though. her clit achingly throbs like a second heart. somehow throughout the night you had rolled into sevika’s chest and tucked your leg between hers.

sevika didn’t necessarily want to wake you for the sole purpose of getting off. but if she rolls her hips right—maybe she can get enough friction to come without rousing you. sevika’s arm secures itself tighter around your back. your breathing remains steady. sevika gradually shifts and rotates her hips until she’s positioned her pussy on the apex of your thigh.

burying her nose in the messiness of your bed hair—sevika takes a deep sniff. you smell like hers. cautiously sevika drags her hips tentatively across your thigh. she holds her breath—not knowing if you’ll wake. but you remain still. such a perfect little doll, sevika thinks. the metallic fingers of sevika’s prosthetic angles your thigh even more against her cunt. the pressure is almost enough. her hips heavily grind down again. no, that’s not it. it felt better dragging herself the length of your thigh. she opts to try that method again.

sevika’s body produces more of a sweat from her attempts to get off. it’s starting to frustrate her. but she needs you. sevika knows she cannot simply roll over and rub one out. her body craves you. sevika feels the beginning of an idea sparking. she carefully rolls you on your back, brushing some hair out of your face. her fingers pause mid stroke when you mumble. but nothing more happens.

humming to herself in contentment, sevika diligently parts your legs wider before kneeling between them. tonight is one of those nights sevika’s fucking grateful you sleep without underwear. she cannot even fathom why she argued over something as banal as this. her mouth waters at the sight of your pussy in the moonlight. blinking away the distraction, sevika wiggled her boxers off her hips. she sits down quickly to tugs them off and toss them somewhere.

sevika returns to her former position kneeled between your spread thighs. her hands soothingly run up the soft skin of your thighs. marveling at how remarkable still you are in your sleep. if sevika’s clit wasn’t so distracting the woman would take the time to get you properly ready. but she’ll have to make do.

shifting on her knees sevika widens them enough where she can easily reach her own cunt. her fingers thickly skim down her folds and she hisses at how sensitive she is. sevika isn’t thrown too off guard with the sheer amount of mess coating her fingers. she felt it when she peeled off her boxers. her fingers shine in the dim light graciously afforded by the moonlight through the sheer curtains. sevika didn’t even really need to prep you. her own wetness would be enough. but she cannot resist. sevika crotches forward. one hand, her metal one, sinks into the mattress while the other slowly drags her soaked fingers up the length of your pussy. she all but trembles with the sinful action. and the only reaction that comes from you is tiny whine. it’s not even enough to convince sevika your sleep conscious mind registered the sensation.

regardless sevika eagerly plunges her own fingers back into her overly sensitive cunt and only pumps them in briefly. she gathers, scoop one might say, a generous amount of her own slick once again. it’s far more than the first time. sevika’s fingers return to your pussy. it takes a few passes through your folds and over your hole for all of sevika’s mess to transfer. your legs only twitched once.

sevika hums her satisfaction. “you’re so perfect, baby.” she utters softly. “and i’m so sorry…but i have to. i need to.”

she positions her body opposite yours. her left leg slotted over your right. sevika’s fingers curl into the sheets as she wills her body to stop fucking trembling. sevika feels desperate. insatiable. her senses have never driven her to such extremes. never once awoken from a dream and sweating out the fever of a lost orgasm. she wishes desperately her fingers would work. but after years owning your heart, body and soul—sevika can never take herself there alone.

and it’s exactly why she’s angled her cunt parallel to yours. sevika knows within minutes of sensually grinding her pussy against yours she’ll be released from this agony. she holds back the groan of approval housed in the depths of her throat. you’re warm and still covered with sevika’s juices. and it seems her few passes made you wet on your own.

“my needy girl…” sevika whispers out as she finally begins moving her hips.

it’s not entirely the easiest orgasm. usually sevika can hold your hand or thigh for leverage. or position your legs wider or higher. but sevika can make do. especially when each brush over her swollen clit against yours sends a heated spark in sevika’s stomach. she can feel herself dripping out and making a mess of you. her hand eventually circles your thigh—bending your leg. and it works. sevika’s strength can easily hold this position. it gives her more breadth and her clit freely glides against yours.

sevika’s body builds up the familiar sensations of her orgasm. her toes curl and uncurl. the muscles in her abdomen almost hurt from coiled tension. then she hears your tiny whimpers. sevika’s ears cannot differentiate if it’s whimpers of pleasure or if you’re slowly waking.

“sev?” sevika for sure knows you’re awake. your voice is faint and whiney and she could almost miss it. sevika cannot fully see your face but she knows you’re sporting that confused pout. the one where your lips are so damn kissable and your eyebrows bunch in light whisper.

her hips don’t come to a full stop. sevika cannot bring herself to. “shh…it’s okay, baby. i’m almost done. i promise. i’m so close.”

your body barely registered sevika’s actions at first. you were waking up from a warm dream. a warm and tingly dream. your body had never felt so relaxed. you called out sevika’s name only because you hadn’t waken in her arms. it is only after sevika coos at you did the realization set in.

“mm..sev…” you whine out again. not in distress but because now you’re inappropriately horny. it is clear your body did not receive any release.

“i know, doll. i know. let me handle it, baby. i’ll make you feel good. i promise.”

How do you think arcane characters would react to burn scars? I have them on the back of my thighs and thought I can't see them everyone who can says they cover most of my thighs and there dark

Your burn marks are a symbol of strength, not flaws. They tell a story of resilience, and that makes you uniquely beautiful. <3 please never feel otherwise.

Burn scars.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: arcane characters reacting to your burn scars

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. A lot of sensitive topics like, burn marks , insecurities, self doubt, the way the reader got the scars are not mentioned, if anyone is uncomfortable in reading about scars or is triggered I suggest to please not read this

Jayce Talis.

The evening was warm, the kind of night where the city hummed with quiet life outside the lab’s tall windows. Jayce sat on the floor of his apartment, leaning against the couch, his arms stretched out behind him as he watched you.

You were sitting on the edge of his bed, legs stretched in front of you, absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh.

The moment your fingers brushed over a particular spot, you flinched.

Jayce noticed immediately.

"You okay?" His voice was soft, careful. Not his usual booming confidence, but something gentler.

You hesitated. "Yeah, just..." Your fingers ghosted over the area again before you sighed. "Old scars."

His brows furrowed, eyes dropping to your legs. And that’s when he saw them.

Burn scars.

uneven marks stretching across the back of your thigh, the kind that told a story—one you clearly weren’t eager to share.

You shifted under his gaze, suddenly aware of his silence. "They’re not a big deal," you said quickly, a half-hearted attempt to brush it off. "I don’t even think about them most of the time."

Jayce didn’t look convinced.

"Can I?" He gestured slightly, not reaching out but offering the space for you to decide.

You hesitated.

Most people pretended not to notice them. Others stared without thinking, their curiosity poorly disguised. But Jayce... he was just waiting.

After a long moment, you nodded.

Carefully, he reached out, his fingers brushing over your skin—warm and deliberate. He didn’t recoil, didn’t wince, didn’t try to mask any reaction.

He just held you.

His thumb traced the edges of the scars with something close to reverence, his touch featherlight but grounding. "You know..." His voice was quieter now. "Scars aren’t something to hide."

You scoffed, a weak attempt at a laugh. "Easy for you to say. You don’t have—"

"I don’t," he admitted. "Not like these. But I know what it’s like to carry something from the past. And I know it doesn’t make you any less..." He swallowed, searching for the right words. "You."*

Your chest ached at the sincerity in his tone.

Slowly, his hand slipped down, intertwining his fingers with yours. "You don’t have to pretend they don’t exist," he murmured. "And you sure as hell don’t have to pretend they don’t bother you."

The knot in your throat tightened. You weren’t sure what to say—if you even could say anything. So instead, you squeezed his hand, letting the weight of his words settle between you.

Jayce squeezed back.

And in that moment, the scars didn’t feel quite as heavy.

------------------------------------------------

Mel Medarda.

The warm glow of candlelight flickered against the silk-draped walls of Mel’s quarters, casting long shadows across the ornate furniture. A gentle breeze drifted in from the open balcony, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of Piltover’s nightlife.

You sat curled up on the velvet chaise lounge, legs draped over the side, basking in the rare quiet moment. Mel was beside you, her fingers tracing absent-minded patterns along your arm as she studied a painting she had been working on earlier.

"You’ve been quiet tonight," she observed, her voice smooth but laced with curiosity.

You hesitated before shrugging. "Just tired."

She hummed softly, setting aside her brush before shifting to face you fully. Her golden eyes roamed over you, perceptive as always, until they landed on where your pants had shifted slightly—just enough to expose the back of your thigh.

Her fingers stilled.

"Come here," she murmured, voice softer now.

You hesitated for a beat before sitting up, allowing her to gently tug you closer. With a delicate touch, she brushed the fabric further up, revealing the burn scars beneath.

You watched her expression carefully, waiting for the usual flicker of pity, the well-meaning reassurances you’d heard a hundred times before.

But Mel Medarda did not deal in empty sentiments.

Her eyes traced the scars slowly, as if committing every detail to memory. "These..." she started, her fingers ghosting lightly over the uneven skin. "They remind me of gold leafing."*

You blinked. "Gold leafing?"

"Mhm." She tilted her head, her braids shifting over her shoulder. "In my homeland, when something is broken, it is often mended with gold—highlighting the cracks instead of hiding them. It is meant to show resilience. Beauty in imperfection."

Your throat tightened slightly. "I don’t think most people would call these beautiful."*

Mel’s fingers curled under your chin, tilting your gaze to hers. "Most people lack vision."

The weight of her words settled between you, unspoken but understood.

Then, her lips brushed against the scarred skin—slow, deliberate, reverent.

A shiver ran through you at the intimacy of it, the way her breath warmed your skin, the way her fingers trailed up your thigh with featherlight precision. She placed another kiss, then another, until the tension in your shoulders melted under her touch.

"You are art," she whispered against your skin. "Even in the places you try to hide."

A shaky breath left your lips, but for once, you didn’t pull away.

For once, you let yourself believe her.

------------------------------------------------

Viktor.

The lab was quiet except for the steady scratching of Viktor’s pen against paper and the occasional hum of machinery. You were seated on the workbench across from him, stretching your legs out absentmindedly after a long day.

It had been a particularly warm evening, and in the comfort of the empty lab, you had rolled up your pants slightly to cool off. You hadn’t even realized that in doing so, you had exposed a part of your thigh—until Viktor’s gaze flickered over, and he stilled.

His pen halted mid-word. His golden eyes lingered, brows furrowing slightly.

"You are injured?" His voice was quiet, yet laced with something unreadable.

You blinked, following his line of sight before quickly tugging your pant leg back down. "No, it’s just... scars," you muttered, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of his stare. "Old ones."

Viktor didn’t look away. "May I see?"

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because most people either avoided acknowledging the scars altogether or gave you the same well-meaning but rehearsed reassurances.

But Viktor wasn’t most people.

With a quiet breath, you slowly rolled the fabric back up, revealing the uneven burn scars across the back of your thigh. You didn’t look at him—didn’t want to see whatever expression he might be wearing.

Seconds passed in silence.

Then, the gentle scrape of his chair as he moved closer.

Viktor didn’t reach out immediately. Instead, he observed them carefully, like he was reading something important—tracing the pattern with his eyes as if piecing together a puzzle only he could solve.

"Scars are... interesting things," he murmured, voice softer now. "They are proof of endurance. Evidence that pain was felt, yet you remained."

You swallowed thickly. "That’s one way to put it."

His gaze lifted to yours, and for the first time, you caught something in his expression—understanding.

Slowly, Viktor shifted, rolling up the fabric over his own leg. The scars along his knee and shin were different—ones born of overuse, surgeries, the toll of time—but they were scars nonetheless.

"People see these and assume they know my story," he said, tilting his leg slightly. "They assume pity is required. That weakness is present." His golden eyes flickered back to you. "But we are not weak, are we?"

Something tightened in your chest. "No," you said softly. "We’re not."

Viktor studied you for a moment longer before, carefully, he reached out. His fingers hovered over your thigh—giving you space to pull away.

You didn’t.

His touch was light, barely there, but warm nonetheless. "Your scars do not lessen you," he murmured. "They do not take away from who you are. They are merely a part of your story. And if anyone tells you otherwise..." He huffed a small breath, a ghost of amusement in his voice. "Well, they are simply not as intelligent as I am."

A small, breathy laugh left your lips despite yourself. "Oh? And what makes you so sure of that?*"

Viktor smirked faintly, withdrawing his hand only to tap lightly at his temple. "Genius, remember?"

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingered.

And for the first time in a long time, the scars didn’t feel like something to hide.

------------------------------------------------

Caitlyn kiramman.

It had been a long day of patrolling the streets, and Caitlyn had returned to her estate looking exhausted. The moment she stepped through the door, she was greeted by the warmth of the fireplace and the soft hum of the house’s familiar sounds. It felt like a reprieve from the intensity of the day.

You were already curled up on the couch, a book in your hands, though your mind was elsewhere. Caitlyn’s presence always brought a sense of calm, but today, there was an unease you couldn’t shake.

As Caitlyn removed her coat and began to relax, she noticed you glancing at your legs, the slight fidgeting of your hand around the hem of your pants. She’d learned to read you like a book, noticing the smallest shifts in your behavior. Something was off, but she wasn’t sure what.

She walked over to you, gently resting a hand on your shoulder, her voice calm but insistent. "What’s going on, darling?"

You hesitated for a moment before you replied, your voice quieter than usual. "It's nothing, just... been thinking."

Caitlyn’s eyes softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she perched herself on the armrest, her gaze never leaving yours. "About what?"

You sighed, feeling the weight of her gaze press on you. It was a warmth that made it hard to hide things from her. Slowly, you moved to pull your pants up slightly, revealing the scars on your thigh—old, deep burn marks that you had long since grown used to but never really let anyone see.

Caitlyn’s breath hitched, and her hand instinctively reached for yours, her thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. "You’ve never mentioned these before..."

You swallowed, not wanting to look at her, but you couldn’t help it. "They’re just scars, Cait. They don’t mean anything."

She tilted her head, clearly not convinced. "I don’t believe that for a second." Her voice softened, and she slowly knelt down beside you, her fingers brushing the skin around the scars with tenderness, her touch barely grazing you as if you were something fragile. "Scars tell stories, but they don’t define you. Not to me."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. It wasn’t the first time Caitlyn had said something so reassuring, but it was the first time it felt like she truly meant it. The quiet compassion in her voice was enough to make you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t prepared for.

"You don’t have to hide them," Caitlyn continued, her gaze meeting yours with gentle intensity. "You don’t have to hide anything from me, ever."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly blinked them away, not wanting to seem weak. But Caitlyn, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in you. With a soft sigh, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"You don’t have to carry the weight of this alone," she murmured against your hair. "I’m here, always."

You allowed yourself to lean into her, the warmth of her embrace easing the tension in your chest. The touch of her fingers against the scars felt like a promise, a silent vow that no matter what had happened before, no matter how you felt about those marks on your skin, Caitlyn would always see you for who you were—not for the pain you’d been through, but for the person you had become.

"I’ll always be here," Caitlyn whispered again, her voice low and steady. "And I love you, scars and all."

You didn’t reply with words. Instead, you let yourself melt into her arms, the comfort of her presence washing over you. For the first time in a long while, the scars on your body didn’t feel like something to be hidden. With Caitlyn, they simply became another part of the story, and it was a story you were no longer afraid to share.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vi.

The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind the smell of damp concrete and rust in the air. Vi kicked off her boots as she stepped into your shared apartment, shaking the water from her hair with a tired groan.

"That was a hell of a patrol," she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck before flashing you a lopsided grin. "Miss me?"

You looked up from the couch, giving her a small smile. "Always."

Vi plopped down beside you, tossing an arm over your shoulder with easy affection. "What’s up, sweetheart? You’ve been quiet."

You hesitated, shifting slightly, but Vi felt the tension immediately. She leaned back, studying your face, and her playful grin softened.

"Talk to me," she coaxed, voice dipping into something more gentle. "Something’s on your mind."

You sighed, glancing away. "It’s stupid."

Vi gave you a pointed look. "Babe, you know I don’t do ‘stupid’ when it comes to you. Spill it."

You hesitated before slowly rolling up the hem of your shorts, exposing the burn scars on the back of your thigh. You felt Vi go still beside you. Her usual warmth, her teasing nature, all of it quieted in an instant.

You braced yourself for some kind of pitying response, for words you didn’t want to hear. Instead, Vi’s fingers brushed over your skin—rough, calloused hands moving with the gentlest touch.

"How long have you had these?" she asked, her voice unreadable.

"For a while," you admitted. "I just… don’t really show them to people."

Vi was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing the edges of the scars, slow and deliberate. You could feel her exhale against your shoulder before she finally spoke.

"You know," she murmured, "scars tell me more about a person than their words ever could."

You huffed out a dry laugh. "Yeah? And what do these tell you?"

Vi smirked, but there was something softer behind it, something careful. "That you’re tough as hell. That you’ve been through shit and still came out standing."

You swallowed hard, something twisting deep in your chest. "I don’t always feel tough."

Vi shifted closer, pressing her forehead lightly against yours. "That’s ‘cause you don’t see yourself the way I do." Her hand curled around your thigh, grounding, steady. "But I see you. Every single part of you."*

Your breath hitched when she leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss over one of the scars. Then another. And another.

Your fingers curled into her shirt as she whispered, "You’re beautiful, scars and all."

---------------------------------------------------

Jinx.

Jinx was never good at staying still. Even now, as she lay sprawled across your lap, she fidgeted—twirling a wrench in one hand while her other absentmindedly traced shapes on your arm.

"You’re awfully quiet today, sugar," she mused, tilting her head up to peer at you. "Not planning to ditch me for some boring, normal life, are ya?"

You gave her a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "Nah, just thinking."

Jinx flipped onto her stomach, resting her chin against your thigh. "Ugh, thinking’s overrated. What’s got you so—" Her words trailed off as her gaze flickered lower, landing on the burn scars on the back of your thigh.

For once, Jinx went completely still. No jokes, no teasing—just silence. You knew she’d seen them before in flashes, but you had never sat down and talked about them. And Jinx? She never pried.

Until now.

"Where’d ya get these?" Her voice wasn’t mocking, wasn’t playful. Just quiet.

You shrugged, trying to pull your leg away, but she caught your knee, holding you in place. "They don’t matter."

Jinx’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Kinda seem like they do, since you never let me see ‘em."*

You exhaled sharply, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I just… don’t like how they look. It’s not a big deal, Jinx."*

"Uh, yeah it is."

She sat up abruptly, straddling your lap, and before you could react, she reached for a marker off the table. With an impish grin, she clicked it open and began doodling over your scars.

"What are you doing?" you asked, baffled.

"Making ‘em cooler," she replied, sticking her tongue out in concentration. "I mean, these could totally be lightning bolts—oh! Or flames. Hell, we could even add little skulls, make it look all badass, like, ‘yeah, I survived a hellstorm, what of it?’"

Despite yourself, you laughed. "Jinx—"

"Shh, shh, artistic genius at work," she interrupted, tapping your nose with the marker.

You shook your head, but you didn’t stop her. Her focus shifted as she ran a gloved hand down your thigh, fingertips barely grazing over the scarred skin.

Then, softer, she murmured, "Does it still hurt?"

Your chest tightened. "Not physically."

Jinx hummed, twirling the marker between her fingers. "Yeah… I get that."

For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the city outside. Then Jinx leaned down and pressed a kiss to one of the scars, quick but sincere.

"There. Now it’s magic. You’re stuck with me forever."

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter. "Is that how magic works?"

"Duh." She kissed another one, then another, grinning against your skin. "You’re mine, and I’m yours. No stupid scars change that."

You reached up, brushing her cheek. "You’re a menace, you know that?"

Jinx beamed. "And you love it."

And yeah. You did.

------------------------------------------------

Ekko.

The Firelights’ hideout was quieter than usual tonight. Most of the crew had already turned in, leaving just you and Ekko sitting on the worn-out couch, the soft hum of old music crackling from a beat-up radio.

Ekko had his legs stretched out, arms draped behind his head, watching you with that easygoing gaze of his. "You’ve been weird today," he finally said. "What’s up?"

You hesitated, fingers curling around the hem of your shorts. "It’s nothing."

Ekko arched a brow. "Right. And I’m Councilor Jayce Talis."

You huffed a laugh, but it quickly faded as you shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep your legs tucked beneath you. Unfortunately, Ekko was too damn observant for his own good. His eyes flickered downward, catching the movement—then landing on the burn scars on the back of your thigh.

His expression faltered. "Yo... what happened?"

"It’s nothing," you said quickly, shifting to pull your legs away, but Ekko reached out, stopping you with a hand on your knee.

"Nah. Don’t do that." His voice was gentle but firm. "You always let me ramble about my scars. What makes yours different?"

You swallowed hard, staring at the floor. "Because they’re ugly."

Ekko frowned. "Ugly?"

"Yeah." You exhaled sharply. "People stare. Whisper. It just… reminds me of shit I don’t wanna think about."

Ekko was quiet for a moment. Then, without warning, he shifted, adjusting his weight until he was kneeling in front of you, his hands braced on either side of your legs.

"Look at me," he said softly.

You hesitated before finally meeting his gaze. His eyes weren’t filled with pity. No forced reassurances. Just raw, quiet understanding.

"You know what I see when I look at you?" he murmured. "Somebody strong enough to still be here. Somebody who’s been through hell and didn’t let it break ‘em."

His fingers traced feather-light over the scars—not afraid to touch, but careful, like he was memorizing them. "You think these make you ugly? Nah. They just prove that you survived something meant to take you out. That’s powerful."

Your throat tightened. "I don’t always feel powerful."

Ekko huffed out a small smile, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss against one of the scars. "Then let me remind you."

Another kiss. And another. His lips were warm, grounding, a silent promise in every touch. You closed your eyes, exhaling as you let yourself lean into his presence.

"You’re still you," he murmured against your skin. "Scars don’t change that. They never will."

------------------------------------------------

I must apologize to all of you because of such a delay I have been dealing with alot lately and also last year of highschool so much Happening BUT PUSHING THROUGH please send requests tho! I LOVEEE em!

Hi!!!! I was wondering if we can have some dark BG3 but with Karlach.. if you can because ohhhhh I love your stuff for her literally every time I read it I fall in love THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING BTW

Ah thank you so much !

oooo okay y'all I'm writing this as a one shot, she's not being added to the list (for now), I will most likely add her when I'm adding the cambions which will be when requests are finished. This is gonna be set when she takes control of the nether brain.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!Karlach x reader | Blood-drenched Sunset

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The infernal glow of Avernus spread before you like a sick parody of a sunset, blood-red skies choked with smoke and ash. The smell of brimstone clung to everything, a constant reminder of where you were and what you had become a part of. Karlach stood at the edge of a jagged cliff overlooking the battlefield below, her fiery mane whipping in the hot wind. Imps and cambions swarmed around her like moths drawn to a flame, eager to do her bidding.

You watched her, your heart aching. This wasn’t the Karlach you had fallen in love with—the one who had fought so fiercely for others, who had carried a blazing heart of courage and compassion. But you understood how she had come to this. Her pain, her rage, her betrayal by the people of Baldur’s Gate—it all made sense. And that was what hurt the most. You understood her too well.

When she turned to you, her eyes were wild with fury and determination, but there was something else buried deep within them. Something you could barely see but refused to give up on.

“They’ll all pay,” she growled, her voice like a low rumble of thunder. “Every last one of Zariel’s lapdogs. Just like those cowards in Baldur’s Gate who let Gortash rise to power. They’ll all burn.”

You stepped forward, hands trembling but held open in a gesture of peace. You were covered in ash, grime and splatters of blood that belonged to those you called friend.

“Karlach,” you began softly, but your voice broke under the weight of what you were about to say. “You were one of Zariel’s servants once. Remember? There are people down there—innocents, just like you were.”

Her expression twisted, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut as she pointed her index finger at you. “Don’t you dare compare me to them. I escaped. I broke free. They don’t deserve your pity, and they sure as hell don’t deserve mine.”

You reached out a trembling hand toward her, desperation thick in your voice. “Please, Karlach. This isn’t who you are. You’re better than this—better than all of this. Be fair, give them a chance. Don’t let this place consume what’s left of your humanity.”

For a moment, you thought you saw her flinch, the barest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. But then her expression hardened, and she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” she said, stepping closer to you, her towering form casting a shadow over your trembling figure. “You’re trying to control me. Hold me back. You’re lucky I love you, babe! So damn lucky!”

She snapped her fingers, and before you could react, two cambions stepped out of the shadows, their claws digging into your arms as they grabbed hold of you. You struggled and cried out, but their grip was ironclad.

Karlach grinned, the flames dancing around her face making her look almost demonic. She sauntered up to you, cupping your cheek with a hand that burned hot against your skin.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock affection. “I want you to see everything. Front row seat, just for you.” She turned to the cambions, giving them a wink. “Make sure they don’t miss a thing.”

The cambions dragged you toward the edge of the cliff, forcing you to kneel as Karlach strode back toward the battlefield below. Her war cry echoed across the hellish plains, and her army of imps and demons surged forward with savage glee.

Tears streamed down your face as you watched the carnage unfold, helpless to do anything but plead silently with the woman you loved—the woman you knew was still in there somewhere. You whispered her name, over and over again, a prayer against the storm.

Somewhere in the chaos, you thought you saw her pause. Just for a moment. A flicker of something human—a memory, perhaps, or a feeling she couldn’t quite extinguish. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep your hope alive.

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y'all how dare you force me to do that to my baby girl.. jk jk i can't lie making her evil was very fun. I hope you guys enjoyed these dark karlach scraps, i think there is another dark karlach request in the queue so y'all will be fed again at some point - Seluney xox

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

hey I wanted to send a request about the bg3 ladies discovering readers sensitive spot but I‘m not sure if it came through since my internet was really bad? 🥺

It did not come through but this did and I think this is perfect as revenge for the ladies after the biteable ear request aha

Karlach:

The trail was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind and the crunch of boots against dirt. You and Karlach had been ahead of the group for a while now, waiting for the eternally slow Gale and Astarion to catch up. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the ground, and in the calm of the moment, Karlach had taken the opportunity to pull you into a cheeky little makeout session.

Her lips were warm—no, scorching—against yours, her body pressed close as her arms wrapped around your waist. Her hands roamed your back, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft hum of contentment. She grinned against your mouth, her teeth lightly grazing your bottom lip before she pulled back to look at you.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you teased, trying to catch your breath.

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her grin growing wider. “And you’re not?”

Before you could respond, her lips found a spot just beneath your jawline, a little to the side, and something unexpected happened. You let out an involuntary noise—a cross between a gasp and a whimper, utterly adorable and undeniably salacious. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as Karlach froze for a second, then pulled back to look at you with wide, delighted eyes.

“Oh,” she said, her voice dripping with mischief. “What was that?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, trying to step back, but Karlach’s strong arms kept you firmly in place.

“Nothing, huh?” she mused, leaning in closer. “I think I just found something interesting.”

“Karlach, don’t—” you began, but it was too late. Her lips were back on that spot, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there, and you couldn’t stop the noise that escaped you. It was the same sound as before, and Karlach’s grin against your skin was downright wicked.

“Stop it!” you whispered urgently, trying to squirm out of her hold. “They’re going to catch up any second now!”

Karlach pouted dramatically, though her fiery eyes were still dancing with amusement. “Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Just one more—”

“No!” you protested, putting a hand on her shoulder to fend her off. But Karlach was relentless, leaning in again with mock innocence, her lips brushing your sensitive spot once more. Another involuntary noise slipped from you, and this time it was followed by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You froze, your heart sinking as you turned to see Gale standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. Behind him, Astarion wore his signature smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Astarion drawled, gesturing lazily with one hand. “This is far more entertaining than anything Gale was rambling about earlier.”

Gale shot him a glare before looking back at you and Karlach. “Perhaps next time, you could save the amorous displays for when we’re not trying to traverse dangerous terrain.”

Karlach let out a booming laugh, unabashed as ever. “Sorry, Gale,” she said, though the grin she shot you was anything but apologetic. “Guess we got a little carried away.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning in mortification.

“I told you they’d catch up!” you hissed at her. Karlach just shrugged, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

“Worth it,” she murmured in your ear, her grin as wide as ever.

As the group started moving again, Astarion sidled up to you, his voice low and dripping with mirth.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “that noise you made? Positively delightful. I might even be a little jealous.”

You shot him a glare, but his laughter trailed behind him as he strode ahead, leaving you to try and regain your composure.

Minthara:

The air between you and Minthara was thick with tension and heat, the playful sparring of dominance as electric as the charged atmosphere of a battlefield. Your lips clashed with hers in a heady dance, each of you vying for control, her sharp nails grazing your shoulders as your hands gripped her waist with equal fervor. There was a delicious push and pull to it, neither willing to yield but both relishing the challenge.

Minthara let out a low growl against your lips as you nipped her lower one, pulling her closer. But she was nothing if not resourceful. Her hands slid to your neck, tilting your head ever so slightly as her lips trailed downward. You had little time to anticipate what she was planning before she pressed a kiss to a spot just below your jawline, where your pulse thrummed steadily.

Your body betrayed you immediately. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips, and you faltered, your grip on her waist loosening just enough for her to notice. Minthara froze for the briefest of moments, and when you glanced up at her, her red eyes were gleaming with unrestrained delight.

You pushed her off, taking a step back as you raised a finger, fixing her with a warning glare.

“Don’t you dare,” you said, your tone firm despite the heat still rising in your cheeks.

Minthara’s lips curved into a wicked smile, her fangs peeking through as she tilted her head like a predator who had just found a new weakness in their prey.

“Oh, my love,” she purred, her voice a mix of amusement and triumph. “How delightful.”

You turned, trying to put some distance between the two of you, but Minthara was faster. Her hands gripped your wrist and waist, spinning you back to her with a forceful tug that had you colliding against her.

“Going somewhere?” she teased, her tone dripping with mock innocence.

“Minthara,” you began, a weak protest, but she cut you off by leaning in, her lips brushing over that same sensitive spot again. The shiver that coursed through you was uncontrollable, and you hated how easily your body betrayed you. Another whimper escaped, this one louder, and Minthara chuckled, low and sultry, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Ah, there it is again,” she murmured, her lips lingering as her hands tightened their hold on you. “So sweet. So vulnerable. Do you think you can hide this from me now?”

You tried to push her away again, but the strength in her grip—and the unyielding press of her body against yours—made it clear you were at her mercy. Not that you could complain, not really. Especially not when she tilted her head to get a better angle and kissed the spot again, and your knees threatened to give out entirely.

“Minthara,” you gasped, your voice shaky as you clung to her arms for balance.

“Yes, my love?” she replied sweetly, though the smirk on her lips made it clear she was anything but innocent.

“You’re evil,” you managed, though the words lacked any real bite.

“And you revere me for it,” she countered, her voice brimming with confidence. She leaned in once more, her lips ghosting over your neck before she captured your mouth again, her dominance in full display now that she had you so thoroughly at her mercy.

And, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t exactly mind.

Lae'zel:

The private sparring session had left you both breathless, sweat glistening on your skin as you and Lae'zel faced each other in the secluded training ground. The clatter of swords and the grunts of exertion had long given way to something else entirely—a different kind of intensity, one born of passion rather than combat.

Lae'zel had pinned you down in the final moments of your match, her body pressing against yours, her wild grin triumphant. What began as a taunt over her victory quickly escalated as her lips found yours, fierce and unyielding. The heat between you was undeniable, and before long, the lines between sparring and intimacy blurred entirely.

Her lips trailed along your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Then, as if guided by instinct, she found it—the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. The noise that escaped you was half gasp, half whimper, completely involuntary and utterly revealing.

Lae'zel froze for a moment, her sharp gaze locking onto yours. You braced yourself, certain she was about to tease you mercilessly, perhaps mock you for such a "weakness." But instead, she sat back slightly, her expression thoughtful and serious.

"You must keep this spot guarded," she said firmly, her golden eyes narrowing. "It is a vulnerability. An enemy who finds it would have undue advantage over you."

You blinked, caught entirely off guard.

"Lae'zel," you began, your tone both baffled and amused, "I don't think I need to worry about an enemy getting close enough to discover that spot, let alone knowing what to do with it."

Her frown deepened, the warrior in her unwilling to dismiss the matter.

"Complacency breeds defeat," she said sternly. "If I found it, others could as well. You should practice evasion—"

You couldn’t help it. You laughed, cutting her off mid-lecture. Her earnestness, while endearing, was misplaced in this particular context. You reached up, your fingers brushing her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her. The contact silenced her, her lips parting against yours as the fervor between you reignited.

When you pulled back, your grin was playful, and you could see the faintest hint of a blush on her usually stoic face.

"How about I make it my mission to find your sensitive spot instead?" you teased, your voice low and full of promise.

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow, the spark of challenge returning to her gaze.

"You may try," she said, her tone filled with the kind of daring that only fueled your resolve.

"Try?" you echoed, leaning in closer, your lips just grazing hers as you whispered, "Oh, I'll do more than try, Lae'zel."

And with that, the sparring session took a decidedly different turn.

Shadowheart:

The battlefield was a cacophony of noise—clanging steel, guttural cries of goblins, and the occasional victorious roar from Karlach. You and Shadowheart had found yourselves in a relatively quiet alcove, shielded from the chaos, though you both knew it wouldn’t last long. Lae’zel and Karlach had the goblins under control for now, giving you and Shadowheart a rare moment to steal for yourselves.

Shadowheart’s back was pressed against the rough stone wall, her lips locked with yours in a fervent kiss that felt almost scandalous amidst the battle. Her hands gripped the front of your armor, pulling you closer as if the world could crumble around you and she wouldn’t care so long as you stayed right there.

It was in the heat of this stolen moment that Shadowheart, seemingly guided by instinct or devilish intent, let her lips trail along your jawline before finding the spot just beneath your ear. The effect was immediate. A tiny, utterly unguarded squeal escaped your lips, your body stiffening at the unexpected jolt of sensation.

Shadowheart pulled back slightly, her lips curving into a wicked smile.

“Oh, what was that?” she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You tried to regain your composure, shaking your head as if to dismiss it, but her grin only widened as she leaned in again, clearly intent on exploiting her newfound discovery. Her lips brushed the spot once more, and this time, you couldn’t suppress the soft, involuntary sound that escaped you—a mixture of surprise and helpless delight.

The noise, however, was louder than either of you intended, echoing out into the chaos. A cluster of goblins, distracted by the commotion, turned their attention toward your alcove. Shadowheart noticed them first and let out a sharp sigh.

“Look what you’ve done,” she chided, though there was no real heat in her words.

“Me?” you protested, fumbling for your weapon. “You’re the one who started this!”

Before either of you could argue further, the goblins rushed forward, but they proved no match for the two of you. With quick, practiced movements, you dispatched them all, leaving the alcove strewn with their fallen forms.

As you wiped your blade clean, a shadow loomed behind you. Lae’zel’s scowl was enough to make you stand a little straighter.

“Are you so undisciplined,” she snapped, “that you cannot focus even amidst a battle? A moment’s distraction could cost lives!”

Shadowheart, ever quick-witted, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“I was simply administering medical attention,” she said, her tone prim and proper, though the faint smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “It’s hardly my fault they found it… distracting.”

Karlach, who had joined Lae’zel, snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“Oh yeah,” she said through her chuckles, “looked like real thorough medical attention to me. Sure you weren’t checking their… vitals?”

You groaned, your face heating as Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Shadowheart, however, seemed unbothered, her smirk growing as she gave you a sidelong glance.

“Let’s hope the next battle doesn’t require quite so much… care,” Lae’zel grumbled before stalking off.

As Karlach followed, still chuckling, Shadowheart leaned in close, her voice low and teasing in your ear. “You squeal so adorably. Perhaps next time, I’ll see what other noises I can coax from you.”

You shot her a playful glare, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed your amusement. “Not in the middle of a battle.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, her smirk now entirely victorious as she turned and strode off to rejoin the others.

Jaheira:

The camp was alive with the buzz of Jaheira’s fellow Harpers, strategizing and organizing as they prepared for the next phase of their operations. Amidst the activity, you’d managed to steal her away under the guise of needing her counsel on something urgent. It wasn’t entirely a lie; you did need her—but not for strategy.

You led her to a quiet spot under the boughs of a large oak tree, far enough from prying eyes and ears. Jaheira had crossed her arms, giving you a skeptical look, but the faintest hint of a smile betrayed her amusement.

“You are nothing if not persistent,” she muttered, though she made no effort to leave.

“Persistent enough to get you alone,” you quipped, stepping closer and resting your hands gently on her hips. She rolled her eyes, but when you leaned in to kiss her, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she melted into it, her hands slipping up to rest on your shoulders as she returned your affection.

The kiss deepened, growing more fervent as the moments stretched. Her fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer with a surprising intensity that made your pulse quicken. Despite her earlier protests, Jaheira was nothing if not passionate, and her hunger matched your own as you lost yourselves in each other.

But then, in a moment of teasing exploration, Jaheira’s lips trailed to your jawline and down to the curve of your neck. Her attention lingered at a particular spot, and when her lips brushed it, a soft, helpless sound escaped you before you could stop it. The sensation was electric, and your reaction was immediate—your body stiffened, and your breath hitched.

Jaheira froze for a moment before pulling back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“What was that?” she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Nothing,” you lied, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “Just caught me off guard.”

“Hmm.” Jaheira’s gaze lingered on you, and a sly smile spread across her face.

Without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips to the same spot again. The jolt of sensation was just as powerful, and this time, a soft, involuntary whimper escaped you.

“By Silvanus,” she murmured, her voice a low, amused growl. “You’ve been hiding this from me.” Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of delight and frustration. “If only I had more time with you—I would make you regret ever revealing this weakness.”

You laughed, though your voice was still slightly breathless. “I didn’t exactly reveal it. You’re the one who went snooping.”

Jaheira scoffed, her hands tightening on your shoulders as she looked at you with mock exasperation. “Snooping, you say? I call it careful reconnaissance. A skill you should appreciate.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Careful reconnaissance, huh? What exactly do you plan to do with this newfound knowledge?”

Her lips twitched in amusement, but then her expression softened.

“Sadly, nothing at the moment,” she said with a sigh, glancing back toward the bustling camp. “Duty calls, as always. But don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Forgotten what?”

She raised an eyebrow, her fingers trailing lightly over the sensitive spot on your neck, making you shiver.

“This,” she said simply, her voice low and teasing.

You couldn’t suppress the soft laugh that bubbled up, though you quickly caught her hand in yours to stop her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your voice warm with affection.

Jaheira leaned in for one last kiss, her lips lingering on yours before she finally pulled away.

“You are an infuriating distraction,” she said, her tone affectionate despite the words. “But I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, she turned and walked back toward the camp, leaving you standing there with a smile on your face and the faint, lingering warmth of her touch on your skin.

This was so fun to write and I really hope you guys enjoyed it! -Seluney xox

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

she is sooooooo cute (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I just had this idea hope fic writers pick it up!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sevika (or more arcane femdoms)x reader they are watching a scary movie (presumably one with a lot of gorey scenes like Evil Dead Rise). Reader is very scared of the movie but still tries to watch it, flinching at scary scenes hiding her face face in sevika's chest hugging her biceps and stuff because she is scared

I may writer it but pls pls pls if the fic writers see it pls write one with this I am dyyyinggggggg to read one like this 😭😭😭😭

Could I perhaps request headcanons for sevika of what it'd be like being friends with her? As difficult as she is I think I'd be awesome to have her watch your back I mean we've all seen how loyal she is

Being besties with Sevika!

I absolutely love this ask, because she'd definitely be SUCH a good friend!!<3

Content: Platonic relationships, some angst?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

Sevika is a ride or die through and through. No matter how difficult things get with you or how chaotic things are, you can count on her to be right there for you every time. Trust and loyalty is hard to come by down in Zaun after all, and so her dedication to you is rare and appreciated by you gratefully. If you keep her back clear, then she'll keep yours clear, too.

Her stubbornness was, however, a difficulty that took you a while to learn how to deal with. If she thinks that she's right about something, then she absolutely is. No, if's or buts about it. Not a thing, you could say can change her mind unless it's profound enough to get through the thick wall in her head. This can lead to some strong disagreements between you two, maybe even a couple arguments. But those are resolved as quick as they come, mainly since she doesn't dwell on alot.

Sevika can be hot-headed and frustrating when it comes to your safety. You are the one good thing she still had left in this hell hole, and she'd be damned if something hurt you. She, therefore, can be very overprotective when it comes to your safety and doesn't let many people come close to you unless she trusts them too. Which are very few people as is.

With that said, though, you practically have scary dog privileges with the way she always looms behind you. No one will ever think of hurting or insulting you in her vicinity, that's for sure.

Whenever you're not feeling well, she'll try and help you out as much as she can. She may not be very good at all at comforting people, but she'll probably get (steal) you things that could make you feel better, whether it be medicine or a small gift. She never accepts anything in return, however, as she's content with caring for you only.

This doesn't mean that she doesn't appreciate the care and loyalty you give her every day deep down, though. She's aware of how painfully difficult she can be at times. And most people therefore avoid her, except for you. This means the world to her, even if she'd never admit it put loud to you.

ambessa with wife reader who’s biggest opps are her parents… especially her mom.

♡♥︎Ambessa vs. Your Mother♥︎♡

♥︎ Ambessa knew from the moment you told her about your strained relationship with your parents that she wasn’t going to like them. She’s never been the type to tolerate people who hurt the ones she loves—least of all you.

♥︎ When she finally meets your mother, it takes everything in her not to let her displeasure show outright. Ambessa is a master of strategy, and if there’s one thing she won’t do, it’s let an opponent see her cards too soon.

♥︎ Your mother, on the other hand, takes one look at Ambessa and decides she’s too arrogant, too powerful, too intense. She doesn’t approve of your relationship (not that Ambessa cares), and she makes no effort to hide it.

♥︎ You can always tell when Ambessa’s resisting the urge to speak her mind. There’s a certain set to her jaw, a slight narrowing of her eyes when your mother makes a passive-aggressive comment about your life choices.

♥︎ “A woman of your status must be so busy. I’m sure it’s difficult to make time for a real marriage,” your mother muses over dinner, sipping her wine. You feel Ambessa’s hand tighten ever so slightly on the table before she smiles—sharp, dangerous. “I make time for what’s important. You must know how that feels, yes?”

♥︎ If your mother ever criticizes you—your decisions, your career, your existence—Ambessa is shutting that down immediately. “You will not speak to my wife like that,” she states, voice calm but final. And when Ambessa Medarda says something with finality, there is no arguing.

♥︎ She absolutely refers to your mother as her greatest enemy. Not in a dramatic, emotional way—just a simple, casual, “Ah, yes, my greatest opponent,” whenever she brings her up.

♥︎ The tension is palpable whenever they’re in the same room. You can practically feel the invisible battlefield between them, both standing their ground like generals before war.

♥︎ Ambessa refuses to let your mother manipulate you with guilt. If she ever notices you falling into old patterns—apologizing when you shouldn’t, doubting yourself—she steps in. “You owe her nothing.” The way she says it, firm and unwavering, makes it hard not to believe her.

♥︎ If your mother ever tries to criticize Ambessa to you, she will find out very quickly that you’re not interested in entertaining that conversation. “If you have a problem with my wife, take it up with her.” (Spoiler: she never does.)

♥︎ Ambessa, with all her power, influence, and sheer presence, is petty in the most elegant way. If your mother ever buys you a gift meant to be a subtle dig (like a book on “proper etiquette” or something equally condescending), Ambessa one-ups her by buying you something extravagant. “Ah, yes, an etiquette guide. Well, I got you a villa in Noxus. Use whichever you prefer.”

♥︎ The first time your mother really underestimates Ambessa, she tries to intimidate her. She speaks in that condescending, self-righteous tone, expecting to unnerve her. Ambessa simply leans back, watching her with a slow, knowing smirk, and says, “I have led armies. Do you think your words will move me?”

♥︎ Your mother despises that Ambessa calls you “my love” in public and in private, her voice dripping with possessive adoration. She especially hates that you always soften under Ambessa’s touch, no matter how tense your mother tries to make you.

♥︎ If your mother ever tries to push you into family obligations that you clearly don’t want to take part in, Ambessa has no problem stepping in. “She will not be attending.” And just like that, the decision is made.

♥︎ Ambessa is terrifyingly good at subtle power plays. Your mother will try to make a sharp remark, and Ambessa will respond with the most cuttingly polite reply, all while watching her like a predator studying prey.

♥︎ You know she’d go to war for you if it came down to it. One time, after an especially rough encounter with your mother, Ambessa muttered, “It is fortunate that I value your happiness more than my pride.” You knew, without a doubt, that she had been holding back.

♥︎ Ambessa does not believe in winning battles through screaming matches—no, no. Her victories are silent, effortless. When your mother scoffs that she’s “not what we expected for our daughter,” Ambessa simply replies, “No, I imagine you expected someone weaker.”

♥︎ The only reason Ambessa hasn’t officially declared war on your mother is because she respects that it’s your relationship to navigate. She knows you don’t need saving—but she is always there, standing beside you, ready if you ever call on her.

♥︎ Despite it all, Ambessa never forbids you from seeing your family. She knows it’s your choice. But she does make one thing clear: “If they hurt you, I will remind them why I am feared.”

♥︎ At the end of the day, when it’s just the two of you, away from the battlefield of family tension, she holds you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are mine,” she murmurs against your skin, voice softer than it ever is with anyone else. “And that is all that matters.”

Could you do Ambessa and Sevika with a reader who's really introverted? Thank youu🫂❤️

♡♥︎ 𝕊𝔼𝕍𝕀𝕂𝔸 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕄𝔹𝔼𝕊𝕊𝔸 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥 ♥︎♡

♡𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒♡

♥︎ Sevika respects your need for space. She’ll give you the quiet moments you crave, but she also won’t hesitate to check in, making sure you’re okay. She’s the type to simply sit beside you in silence, just feeling your presence without pushing for interaction.

♥︎ She’s not much for small talk, so she’s perfectly content with your more reserved conversations. She likes the deeper, meaningful moments, especially when you share something you’ve been thinking about in the comfort of silence.

♥︎ Sevika notices the subtle signs that you need time alone. She won’t ask questions—she’ll just leave you to your space without making you feel guilty about it. She knows when to give you space without making it an issue.

♥︎ When she does interact with you, it’s always in a way that feels comforting rather than overwhelming. Her low, steady voice helps keep your anxiety at bay, and she always speaks in a calm, no-nonsense tone.

♥︎ She understands when you don’t want to go out, and she’ll stay in with you. Whether that means watching something low-key or simply spending time in each other’s company without the need for words, Sevika gets it.

♥︎ Despite her tough exterior, she’ll sometimes offer small, thoughtful gestures. Like making sure you have a hot drink or making your favorite meal, even if you never asked for it.

♥︎ She won’t push you to be more social. If you don’t want to deal with people, she’s more than happy to take care of things without dragging you into them. She values your peace and understands your boundaries.

♥︎ Sevika’s got a weirdly soft side when it comes to you. She’s the type to gently brush her fingers through your hair or rub your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed, always keeping it quiet and steady.

♥︎ She doesn’t make a big deal out of it when you’re not up for physical affection, but she makes sure you know she’s still there with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet touch when you need it.

♥︎ At times, she’ll give you a look, almost like she’s checking if you’re okay. She’s so observant, catching even the smallest shift in your mood. Sometimes, all it takes is a nod from you, and she’ll know how to adjust without saying a word.

♥︎ She’s a master at knowing when to be quiet and when to speak. If you’re deep in thought or in your head, she won’t try to force conversation—she lets you come to her when you’re ready

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re feeling anxious, Sevika won’t ask what’s wrong. Instead, she’ll just do something familiar—like sitting with you, offering a cigarette, or doing something that feels grounding for both of you.

♥︎ She’ll never judge you for being quiet or withdrawn. There’s no pressure to be anything other than yourself with her, and she’s one of the few people who sees the value in your silence.

♥︎ Despite her commanding presence, Sevika has a weird way of knowing exactly how to make you feel safe when you’re overwhelmed. It’s in the way she stands, the way she quietly observes, always creating space for you to be yourself without fear of judgment.

♥︎ She doesn’t mind if you’re the type to retreat into books, music, or your own thoughts. She’ll sit next to you, just existing with you, content that you’re sharing that space in your own way.

♥︎ Sevika understands your need for independence. She doesn’t try to fix everything. Instead, she lets you deal with things at your own pace, offering support only when you ask for it.

♥︎ When she sees you come out of your shell—even a little—she’s oddly proud of you. There’s a soft edge to her smirk when she catches you laughing or talking with someone. She’ll never outright compliment you on it, but you can tell she’s impressed.

♥︎ She’s the type of girlfriend who will insist you take breaks and step away from stress, but she’ll also respect it if you want to handle things on your own. It’s all about balance for her.

♥︎ When you get overwhelmed in a crowd, Sevika will always find a way to get you out of there. Whether it’s making an excuse to leave early or simply pulling you to the side for a quick exit, she’s got you.

♥︎ She knows you might prefer just one-on-one time, so she’ll do what she can to make sure you’re never pressured into group settings that make you uncomfortable.

♥︎ Sevika’s loyalty runs deep. When you’re down, she’ll stay by your side, a steady presence in the background, quietly supportive, offering you the space you need while also being there when you want her.

♥︎ Finally, she’s the kind of partner who’s happy to let you be exactly who you are—quiet, introverted, and uniquely you. She appreciates your calm, your quiet strength, and the way you help her see the world from a different perspective.

♡𝔸𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒♡

♥︎ While Ambessa is commanding and often larger-than-life in her presence, she knows how to make you feel safe in your introversion. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, she’ll create a space where it’s just the two of you, letting you retreat into the comfort of silence.

♥︎ When you’re too tired to talk, Ambessa will gently remind you that you don’t need to say anything—your presence alone is enough for her. She understands that sometimes, silence speaks volumes.

♥︎ If you’re ever feeling drained after a long day, Ambessa will offer you her company without demanding anything from you. She might pour you a drink, sit beside you, and simply exist in your space without pressuring you to be anything other than yourself.

♥︎ She’ll occasionally tease you, but it’s always lighthearted and with affection. She enjoys seeing the subtle shifts in your expression when you try to hide your smile or laughter at her dry wit.

♥︎ Ambessa knows the value of personal time, and she’s perfectly content with letting you retreat into your own thoughts. She’ll never take it personally if you need space; she understands that your quiet moments are just as important as your shared moments.

♥︎ When you’re feeling particularly introverted, she’ll find ways to give you space while still being close. She might work nearby, allowing you to feel her presence without being forced to interact if you’re not up for it.

♥︎ Ambessa will sometimes look at you in a way that says everything—those deep, knowing glances that speak volumes without words. She’s incredibly perceptive and can sense when you’re feeling overwhelmed without you saying a thing.

♥︎ If you need a break from the chaos around you, Ambessa will ensure that you can escape to a quieter place. Whether it’s her private office or just a secluded corner, she’ll make sure there’s peace for you when you need it.

♥︎ When she knows you’re feeling anxious or stressed, Ambessa will offer her hand or give you a touch of reassurance. She’s not the type to force conversation, but her touch is often all you need to feel grounded again.

♥︎ Despite her intimidating persona, she’ll soften her voice when she speaks to you, knowing that you’re more comfortable when things aren’t too loud or intense. Her words come with purpose, but also a gentleness that helps ease your mind.

♥︎ Ambessa doesn’t mind when you’re introverted around others. She’s proud of your calm, quiet strength, and she’ll often give you a knowing look, silently acknowledging that you’re doing just fine without saying a word.

♥︎ She enjoys watching you in your element when you’re doing something you love, whether it’s reading, sketching, or simply taking a walk alone. Her gaze is full of quiet admiration as she watches you retreat into your thoughts, appreciating the depth of who you are.

♥︎ When you’re not feeling like talking, Ambessa will give you small affirmations to remind you that you’re valued. It might be a compliment, a small smile, or simply a soft “I’m proud of you” when you least expect it.

♥︎ Ambessa knows how to read your body language, and she can tell when you’re beginning to feel drained. When that happens, she’ll shift gears and create a more private, calming environment for you without making it awkward

♥︎ If you’re having trouble navigating a social event or gathering, Ambessa will be your rock. She’ll make sure you don’t feel pressured to perform socially, and she’ll give you an out if you need one.

♥︎ When you do choose to open up, Ambessa listens with unwavering attention. She never interrupts, never judges, and always values the words you do share. Her silence in those moments is the most supportive kind of presence.

♥︎ Ambessa is fiercely protective of your peace. If anyone or anything threatens to disturb your calm, she’s quick to put it in its place. She’ll handle it quietly, often with a few choice words, making sure your introverted nature isn’t pushed out of balance.

♥︎ She’ll often surprise you with small gifts or gestures that show she’s thinking of you. A book she thinks you’d love, a quiet walk around the city, or even a cup of tea with your favorite flavor—it’s her way of showing she cares without overwhelming you.

♥︎ When you need to recharge, Ambessa will make sure to give you the time you need. She won’t pressure you to interact with her or others, knowing that sometimes the best way to show affection is by letting you be yourself.

♥︎ She’s not the type to need constant reassurance, but she’ll make sure you feel seen. When you’re with her, it’s like nothing else matters; it’s just the two of you, with her providing the kind of quiet strength that balances out your own.

"A fighter" sevika x fem reader angst

Summary: If there was a soul mate for everyone, sevika would think "and was sure" there's none for her. people,they are connected by their scars their pain and how they could heal one another. People see the broken pieces and offer what they have in exchange for what they want and sevika had nothing to give and plenty to get. she was so broken that the scars on the surface, were the surface. and one should reach out too deep to find a sign of her and only than to try healing her. and sevika wouldn't be that cruel to anybody. that was until you came along and sevika found herself for the very first time...wishing for something selfish...something entirely hers

Sevika is a fighter. not that she likes it or she gets off on it but she is one simply because there's the need for it. she needs to be one, silco needs her to be one, the nation of zaun and all of the people of undercity, needs her to be one...so she became one...and to hold that title she is required to be tough, to man up and forget her weakness...to avoid weaknesses and lately you're becoming one.

she needs to keep her distance from you and she was telling herself that from the day she met you. But somewhere along this mission she failed. somewhere between the beautiful smile you gave her everytime you saw her and the sweet little voice of yours telling her "good morning sev" every morning. Somewhere in the way your beautiful eyes shine everytime she talks to you and somewhere when she felt that tingling feeling inside of her heart after seeing you.

And frankly she thought she could do it. She thought whenever she absolutely had to, she can just cut you off for the greater good. That's what being in the top of the chain of power requires, so she would do it. I mean how hard could it be, she could just forget about all of that there was and get on with her life, with the plan big enough to save thousands of lives... at least she tells herself that before thinking of you and drifting off to sleep.

Why she doesn't do it now?she just simply wants another taste...everytime she tells herself that. she only need one more good morning, one more worried look whenever she shows up beaten, one more time of having you clinging by her side when she's fixing her arm, one more time seeing you looking at her with awe when she wins in card games.

And every time she repeated that sentence that "just one more time and I'm done" it's a fucking lie. she's becoming addicted to you and everyone can see it except herself.

Everyone knows they're not to mess with you and it's showing on their attitude towards you. creep wouldn't dare to look at you in a bad way and the meanest people who won't give a damn about anything bite their tongue before anything bad about you leave their lips because they know better to mess with sevika and getting their shit rearranged.

And that was what encouraged you to take the first step and ask her to have a dinner with you at your place. Because although sevika seemed interested enough for someone like her more than enough you knew she wouldn't take the first step or at least she wouldn't use her words for it, so you would get stuck in between a lot of nothings. So you asked her...

And when you did so your heart was in your throat, you could feel the coldness and numbness creeping up your fingers and toes as you played with the hem of your clothing. daring to only take one breath per second.

Sevika on the other hand was stunned. what did she do to make it to this second, standing infront of you, noticing how you were more dolled up compere to the other times and how you were trying to distract yourself from her gaze and avoiding it with all your might and even though it was just a few seconds, she felt like she's missing it...she's missing how your pupils dilated at the sight of her and how your eyes would tremble everytime it was forced to hold her gaze more than mere seconds.

"Sure why not"

She was fucked...not because she said yes...because she didn't even thought of saying no and it would only become harder and harder with every and each passing day. knowing you was both a blessing and a curse because the more she got to know about you she fell more onto the depth of loving you more.

Everytime she got to wrap her hands around you when you were sleep, easily pulling you in her embrace. breathing at the nape of your neck welcoming the most beautiful dreams that she never had she would fell lower.

When she would wake up seeing your messy hair tickling on her neck and chest while sun shining on them made them a little bit lighter she would fell lower and lower.

When she kissed that very kissable lips of yours taking in your lipstick from them and painting them with a flushed redder look that she adored so much she would fell lower and lower and lower.

And when she would make your face blushed make your body get cover in a thin sheet of sweat, quivering underneath her with sweet sweet moan skipping you lips, calling her oh so beautifully she would fell lower and lower and lower to the bottom of that pit.

And than she hit the ground.

When silco warned her about how she was growing too clumsy too much eager to get back home before getting the job done. how she's losing the sense of survival, how she's failing as a fighter a warrior.

And it hit her, the bottom of that pit the end of the days she was living for herself...

She came home that night,trashed, wasted. stumbling on her feet, eyes seeing two for one and stomach burning with dread and alcohol, struggling so long to put the keys in the keyhole that you heard and opened it at last...when she thought of that she was glad that it was you that came to the door that night opening the door her for the last time...she had plenty of time to open that door by herself to an once again empty house.

"Sevika... are you okay? what happened?"

You called her and her ears despite her drunken mind picked up on the sound, devouring everything you gave, every call you create. placing them in the back of her mind, safe from the chaos.

"Get out"

She rasped out as she stepped in, voice hoarse from all the unnecessary yelling and cussing and drinking. she quickly get done with that, ripping of the bandage like she always does. she didn't spare you a look as she made her way to the kitchen grabbing another bottle.

"What do you mean?"

You were shocked to say the least not knowing it's just drunk talking or she's fucking serious right now you. frown in shock a rare sight.

"Do I have to repeat it now"

She said with a calmness in her tone that was far away from the mess unfolding within her. she slammed the bottle down on the counter, turning to look at you with her gray eyes, drowned in emotions so much you couldn't even see anything in them.

"Get out of my life"

She continued, taking an step forward.

"Get all of your bubbly shit all the hope you're trying to put on me all your sickening love and get the fuck out"

You looked up, wide eye feeling like someone dumped hot boiling fucking water all over you your lips moved without any sound coming from it.

"What...what do you mean...where is it coming from...did I do something?I swear to god I didn't"

You sound...desperate voice shaking and body trembling. you could feel the coldness creeping up to your fingers you could feel your heartbeat in your throat but you weren't playing with the hem of your clothes anymore, only thing playing was time with the both of you.

"Stop it"

She cut your voice

"I'm tired of it...I'm tired of you taking my life trying to fix things that I built under pressures that you have no fucking clue about...get out I'm done playing this game"

You didn't know how you left how you put everything you could in a bag sobbing as you close the door fat tears coming down your cheeks sevika didn't know how she could bare the sound of your cries that night and you didn't know how you're going to live from now on...and so did sevika.

₊˚⊹♡ Valentines Day Headcannons ♡⊹˚₊

જ⁀➴ ♡ Starring: Vi.ᐟ Caitlyn.ᐟ Sevika.ᐟ જ⁀➴ ♡ !!-18//MDNI-!!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡ ♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

•Sevikaજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Oh she’s a sweetheart, really, but the poor woman is overworked and the day slipped her mind until Shoola makes some off-handed comment at work— then she’s absolutely cursing herself.

❤︎ She gets home late afternoon, flowers bundled up in her hands and an apology sitting on her tongue— her shoulders dropping at the sight of you bundled up on the sofa.

“Angel, I’m so fucking sorry.” Her voice is all soft and dejected as she sits down right beside you, a big hand resting over your knee. “You know work just keeps on pilling up, I didn’t even notice the—”

You immediately dismantle her, fingers curling around hers with a gentle smile and tender eyes, gleaming up at her with a sickly sweet love. “S’alright Sev, you’ll make it up to me.” And god she swears she will.

❤︎ And she really does! Cooking you up that one homemade meal you’re always bugging her to make since the first time she made it for you. A nice candle-lit dinner, popping open a bottle of your fave, showering you with sweet compliments and tender touches— her hand rubbing your thigh from beneath the table.

❤︎ In fact her hands don’t leave the soft curvature of your perfect body for a single moment, guiding you into your shared bedroom— kissing along your jaw and down your neck, a sincere apology hidden in the way she sheds your clothes from your body.

❤︎ She had you spread open for her on the bed, mechanical hand squeezing the inside of your thigh— the cold metal against your flushed skin shoots a shiver through your body, one that was only doubled as she pushes the vibrator a little harder to your clit.

“That’s it, baby, keeping making those pretty noises f’me yeah?” Her voice was all gruff and ragged, watching in almost awe as rubs the toy over your sensitive bud so painstakingly slow, you can’t help but buck your hips up in desperation, needing more.

“Mmfm, p-please Vika! please.” You whine, hands fisting at the bedsheets when she turns it up to a setting that makes your thighs shake as the vibrations intensify, your cunt soaking the toy as she rubs it through your slick folds.

“Please?— please what baby? I ain’t a mind reader.” She absolutely lives for the way you arch up from the bed, looking up at her with glossy eyes.

❤︎ Sevika likes to take her time, pushing you right to the edge before bringing the vibrator away with a small smirk, scoffing a chuckle as your whines get louder and somehow, even more, needier from the way she rubs the slick toy over your pert nipples. Immediately leaning into your tits to lick and kiss at your glistening peaks murmuring about how “fucking good” you taste, her hand caressing over your waist and ribcage.

“Soaked for me huh?” She notes, smirking against your nipple as you blabber on about how much you need her until she dips her hand between your thighs to push her ring and middle fingers inside of your cunt, slick walls clamping around her thick digits— then you’re all broken moans and breathless gasps. “There you go, fucking swallowing my fingers up, huh? Greedy girl.”

Her eyes drink in every inch of your body as she sits back, her mechanical hand bringing the vibrator back to your clit as she curls her fingers deep inside you, fucking you until you’re seeing stars and some more.

❤︎ Sevika does good in making it up to you— spoiling you with a bubble bath, making sure to fold your favourite pyjama set over the radiator so they’re nice and warm for when you get out— fresh bedsheets and your favourite candle. She’d dote on you all weekend too because, at the end of the day, she really thinks you deserve the best.

•Caitlynજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Nothing can ever be just ‘casual’ with Caitlyn, it’s a whole day thing for her. From the moment you open those pretty eyes, she’s completely at your beck and call.

❤︎ She would wake you up with sweet whispered nothings murmured against your jaw, kissing along your bare shoulders and over the nape of your neck— fingers slowly grazing down your spine in a gentle attempt to coax you out of dreamland.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my dearest.” her smooth velvety accent sends a slight shiver down your spine, humming in contentment.

You find her tender gaze as you turn to look up at her, all sleepy smiles and bleary eyes— her hand coming to rest against your warm cheek, tracing over the pillow lines that were printed into the soft skin. “Mm, happy Valentine’s Day love.” You respond, letting your eyes flutter close once more as she presses a kiss to your temple.

❤︎ She would have breakfast all ready, a platter of sweet fresh fruit and other various toppings for the heart-shaped waffles— she really does go all out and it was so worth it to see how your eyes twinkle in awe, the way your smile widens and the giggles that escape your lips.

❤︎ Caitlyn might have also splurged a little on you, okay maybe more than a little. A pretty dress that fitted your gorgeous frame oh so beautifully, adorning jewellery that made your complexion shine even more so than usual and a rather raunchy lingerie set that she couldn’t wait to take off, all folded in a gift bag just for you to wear tonight at dinner.

❤︎ A private booth in a fancy restaurant, gave her the perfect opportunity to tease you and she did— all night long, whispering filthy things into your ear. By the time the pair of you had climbed into the limousine, your panties were soaked and well Caitlyn really couldn’t help but slip her hand between your thighs, underneath your dress to rub her fingertips over the little damp spot.

“Mm, Cait—” you gasp, trying to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting the driver behind the partition to hear but it was so difficult when she hooks her middle finger over your lacy panties, the same pretty pair she gifted you with this morning, pushing them to the side slowly.

You hide your face against her shoulder, whimpering as she slides her fingertip along your slick folds, circling your clit with a feather-light touch— not giving you want you so desperately need which only makes you whine some more, hips bucking. “Sshh, you’re such a needy little thing, already so wet just from some words?” Her tone was almost condescending.

❤︎ A mess of shoes and clothes trail behind the pair of you, leading to your shared bedroom. Caitlyn didn’t have much patience, not when she was this turned on— needing to get her hands on you.

❤︎ Once she had you right where she wanted she couldn't stop. With you spread open for her in front of the mirror, her fingers teasing over your clit— wanting to make you cum again because gosh she couldn’t get enough.

“Look, baby, look how well your pretty pussy takes my fingers.” She coos, pressing a kiss to your jaw as you sit in between her legs— thighs draped over hers in front of the mirror as she slowly thrusts her two fingers into your fluttering hole. “Will you give me another, hmm?”

You let out a small whine, tipping your head backwards against her shoulder— her free hand instantly cupping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together slightly, to make you face the mirror, admiring the way the pair of you fit together so perfectly. “Ah, Cait— Yeah, yeah, I can.” You whimper, watching how her fingers disappear inside you.

“Oh, such a good girl for me.” She hums in agreement, chuckling lowly as she curls her slender fingers perfectly— hitting that spongy spot deep inside you that makes your hips buck up against her hand, grinding your clit against the heel of her palm and whimpering for more. “That’s it’s, make a mess all over my hand— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Caitlyn watches the reflection in awe, how your hips rock against her hand in tandem with her fingers in reckless abandon, chasing after that relief until you're gushing all over her digits, soaking the silk bedsheets whilst she coos praises into the bare skin of your shoulder.

❤︎ She didn’t stop there, spending the rest of the evening drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you were boneless against the pillows, hair all tussled and completely flushed and panting. A beautiful sight.

❤︎ Caitlyn would shower you with praise, whispering sweet nothings into your sticky skin— nosing at your jaw and kissing all over your pretty face, keeping you grounded whilst she cleaned you up with such gentle hands before getting you a nice, cold glass of water and whatever else you needed. The rest of the night she spent cuddling you, with your head tucked beneath her chin, playing with your hair.

•Violetજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Violet tries so hard to be all nonchalant about it, trying to act like she didn't know what was coming up but can’t— she fails horribly. Waking up at the crack of dawn to decorate the living room with heart-shaped bunting and balloons, giggling to herself whilst you slept peacefully upstairs in your shared bed.

❤︎ It was the waiting that she couldn’t deal with, pacing around the living room completely restless— every tiny noise that came from upstairs had her gasping softly in anticipation.

Violet's eyes lighten up as you walk into the living room, one of her shirts hanging around your shoulders, hair all tussled and eyes oh so sleepy— you giggle softly in surprise, looking around the decorated living room, ‘awwing’ softly as you spot a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase and a small box of your favourite chocolates. “There’s my girl, c’mere.” She chuckles, holding her arms out for you.

“When did you do this?” You ask all giddily, walking over to your equally excited girlfriend who all but tugs you closer to her— toned arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“This morning, whilst you were snoozing.” She replies, words muffled against your hairline as she peppers your face with loving kisses, hands moving to cup your face, thumbs caressing your warm cheeks as you nuzzle into her palms with a content hum.

Your arms circle around her shoulders, holding her close as she watches your gaze flicker around the room once more— she lives for the way your eyes go all starry, the smile that was plastered across your pretty face. “Aw, you did really good.” You really just melt her heart completely, she hugs you tightly against her once more, showering you with affection as you both share murmured— “Happy Valentine’s Day.” and other sweet nothings.

❤︎ Vi would spend the morning doting on you, the full princess treatment because her girl really deserves only the best!— she’d treat you to whatever you wanted from the bakery just down the road for breakfast, showering together and doing your skincare routine for you.

❤︎ The pair of you would take the dog out for a nice walk around the local park before stopping at the shop, grabbing a few things for dinner and a couple of snacks along with pre-made brownie mix to bake later— which the pair of you somehow make a complete mess of but it was all apart of the fun!

❤︎ The whole day would be so relaxing— full of nothing but absolute love, your heart feeling so full as the evening rolls around. The pair of you snuggled up in bed as she kisses you ever so sweetly. The movie you had put on now long forgotten, the remote kicked off of the bed and somewhere on the floor as those kisses turned a lot more heated and greedy.

“Mm, need something baby?” Vi asks in between kisses, smirking against your lips as you grind your hips down against her— desperate for more of her, fingers grasping at her broad shoulders.

Oh, she’s so cocky. Chuckling against the soft curve of your jaw as she dips her hand into your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt through your underwear— the apparent wet spot giving you all away. “I want your— your strap, please.” You whisper shyly, pressing your face into her shoulder with a weak moan.

Your reply only inflates her ego, rubbing her fingers over your underwear— her other hand caressing over the curve of your waist and up to your hip. “Yeah? Don’t be shy baby, s’just me.” She coos, turning her head to press a kiss to your cheek, whispering a gentle, “Come on, tell me what you really want, hmm?” Lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

You whine, trying to grind down against her palm as you press your face further into the crook of her neck— groaning in both frustration and desire. “Want to ride your strap so badly, Vi— need you to fill me up, please.” You practically plead, and that was all Vi needed to hear.

❤︎ She never really had much patience, it was practically nonexistent when it came to you— especially when she craved you as bad as she does right now because god your body was a piece of damn art.

“You’re so beautiful, baby— keep moving, just like that.” Vi was practically drooling, her half-lidded eyes zeroing in on the way her strap disappears into your cunt with ease, the silicone toy glistening with your slick— hips grinding against her so clumsily, so desperately.

Her fingers dig into the fat on your hips for leverage, almost manhandling you into a slower pace so you could feel each mind-numbing drag of her cock along your gummy walls, drawing out those sweet broken cries from your parted lips— jaw all slack and eyes hooded. “F-Fuck Vi— feels so good!” You whimper, nails biting into her shoulder which all but shoots a shiver down her spine, making her arch her strap deeper up into you.

She swears to god she could feel you squeeze around her, physically impossible but right now, god, she’s certain— “Yeah? Taking it so deep angel, feel me right here, huh?” She coos, pressing her hand over your lower abdomen— her other sliding from your waist up to your tits as you continue to bounce her strap— thighs beginning to burn in such a good way.

You nod, blabbering on and on in agreement— a bunch of nonsensical moans that sound far too good slipping past your lips— so needy for her as your movements become all sloppy, your hand desperately pushing on hers until her fingers find your clit. “There you go baby, fuuuck look at you— cumming around my cock.” She watches in complete awe as you lose yourself in the feeling, bouncing on her strap until you’re gushing around the thickness— soaking her thighs.

❤︎ Vi would prepare a bath that would end in round two because she really couldn’t keep her greedy hands to herself— not that you had a single complaint when her fingers were stuffed inside you, thumb slowly rubbing against your clit, the warmth of the bubble bath enveloping you. It was all too good.

❤︎ You end the day all cuddled up in bed, matching pjs and clean bedding— her big, warm hands massaging your achy thighs as she lavishes your pretty face with tender kisses, telling you how much she loved you until the pair of you end up falling asleep halfway through a movie, limbs all tangled beneath the blankets.

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡ ♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

barges through the wall like the kool-aid man

Buy Sevika flowers.

Please. Please she probably never received a beautiful bouquet before and I desperately yearn for soft hours with Sevika

SHE SO DESERVES FLOWERS I AGREE I AGREE

i will take good care of you

content warning(s): none

"and all the quiet nights you bear seal them up with care no one needs to know they're there for i will hold them for you."

~~~

** set post canon, Councilor!Sevika x reader. because oh my god i cannot accept that she’s all alone in there **

~~~

You stand in the doorway. Sevika hasn’t seen you yet. 

She is at her desk, the way she is every night. The desk of rich Noxian wood, inlaid with swirling patterns of gold. The desk came with the apartment, which came with the seat at the Council, which came with a new kind of fight that you had to watch Sevika go through day after day. 

The battles were won, the losses counted, the blood spilled and cities destroyed and rebuilt. Ambessa was dead. Hextech destroyed. The sister cities were forced to reconcile in the face of the realization that they had come very, very close to the end of the world. 

Piltover is quiet at night. Nothing like the undercity, where you would hear fights breaking out on the streets every hour of the day, drunks wailing from filthy doorsteps, dogs howling in the alleyways. No; Piltover was like a slumbering golden beast. 

And your Sevika, the new leader of the underdogs, the voice of the city the two of you had grown up in—the city that never slept. If Piltover was the idle lion, Zaun was the hungry wolf. You see the hunger still in your wife’s eyes. You see how she charges into every debate, every argument at the Council Table the same way she charged into battle years ago. Every reform, every proposal she makes, is met with a near unanimous opposition. A mandate that would have taken half a day to pass from a Piltover Counselor took weeks when it came from the Zaunite Counselor. 

Sevika has hung up the arm Jinx had made for her on the wall behind her desk, and it gleams in the lamplight like a trophy. Still she hasn’t noticed you—she is poring over the files on her desk, the endless paperwork awaiting her every night seeming to have no end. 

You want to take her in your hands tenderly, you want to crush the burdens she carries into an insignificant ball. You want to tell her to rest. But you've learned Sevika didn't like words that have no meaning: she cannot rest, and you and Sevika both know this. 

So you show it through actions. 

You walk up to her, standing behind her. She glances up briefly. 

“How was the academy today?” 

“Fine,” you say. “The pupils learn fast.”

“Hm.” She is preoccupied with the paperwork. You rest your hands on her shoulders and find them tight with tension. Your fingers knead her muscles, their strength making her groan involuntarily. 

“You work too hard.” 

She laughs dryly. Her prosthetic arm is off—the new one she bought from the Piltover mechanic, a simple and elegant arm of light gold, no weaponry assets. She’s still wearing the formal cape, and from where you’re standing she looks smaller and wearier than you remember. 

“Come to bed,” you say, massaging the tension out of her neck. You feel her relax at your touch, the muscles softening beneath her warm skin. 

“In a minute.” 

“Not in a minute. Now.” 

“You go ahead, baby.” She sighs. “I have to get this done.” 

You never feel so helpless as in moments like these, when she seemed to be trapped between one duty and another, when it felt like the world expected your wife to be everywhere at once, doing everything at the same time. 

You don’t know how to ease her load. There just seemed to be no end to it. You try to think of the last time you saw her smile, really smile, and find you can’t remember. 

You look around her office. The walls are plain, devoid of paintings. Besides Jinx’s mechanical arm on the wall, there isn’t much to relieve the somber atmosphere. 

“Sevika,” you say suddenly, “what are your favorite flowers?”

“Flowers?” she repeats in an absent tone, looking over a text on trade policy. “I don’t know. I don’t think much about flowers.” 

A pause, and she looks up at you, as if surprised to see your question was serious. 

“I remember picking moonflowers when I was small,” she says. 

“Moonflowers?”

“Yeah, the pale blue ones that grew near the mines. The only things that could survive in that air. More weeds than anything.” She shrugs. “I remember picking one a day to give to my mom when she came back from work. She never threw them away, even after they wilted. Then one day she didn’t come home at all.”

You squeeze her shoulder. Her mother had died in a cave-in at the mines when she was young. You had lost your own parents to the same kind of accident. 

Sevika looks at you, amusement in her eyes. “I don’t remember the last time we ever talked about something like flowers.” 

~~~

The next day you ask your academy supervisor permission to take off work early. Since you have no afternoon classes anyway, the permission is granted. You walk briskly down to the marketplace and go into the florist’s shop. 

When you ask the leopard vastaya man at the counter for a bouquet of moonflowers, he shakes his head. “Those are just weeds from the undercity. I don’t sell them in bouquets. You can buy a full bouquet including them as decoration.” 

“I want only the moonflowers. You can take them out of every bouquet and gather them together, I’ll pay however much it costs.”

He looks at you as if you’re crazy, but he sets to work. You leave the shop fifteen minutes later with a bunch of moonflowers in gleaming wax paper tied with a ribbon. They are beautiful with notes of gray, and in flashes they hold the same color as Sevika’s eyes. They look like hope. They look like Zaun. 

When Sevika comes home that night you present them to her with a tentative smile. All day you’ve angled them this way and that in her office, changing the vase twice to try to find the right look. You’re not sure if she would even like the gift, or if she would find it painful. 

Sevika stares at you. “What’s this?” 

“Moonflowers,” you say dumbly. Both of you can clearly see that. You can’t read her expression, and you start to feel nervous. “I just wanted…I wanted to make you feel lighter.” 

Lighter. Happier. You want to give her the world. You want to give her the moon, the stars, the warmth of your very soul. You want to show her she is not alone in this fight. 

Sevika takes the flowers and buries her nose in them, eyes closed. Then she looks up at you. “They’re beautiful,” she says, her voice husky.

Sevika sees her childhood in their petals. She sees the hope in the heart of the little girl inside her. She sees the wrinkles of her mother’s tired smile. She sees the bright eyes of young Zaunite children. 

“Sevika,” you say, worried, “Sevika, are you crying?” 

She wipes roughly at her eyes, giving you a smile as genuine as sunlight. “No, darling. Thank you.”

~~~

note: ah...this was meant to be fluff but it turned out angstier than i intended... i can still call it fluff if it involves flowers right...?

thank you @demothers-empty-blog for the req :)

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who snores loudly. at first, it was hard for you to adjust to this habit of hers but now, you can't go without it! it's like a white noise that allows you to sleep like a baby ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who fell deeply in love when she first saw you, back when you were working at the brothel ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who, despite her confidence and somewhat snarky attitude, became extremely flustered when you finally admitted you loved her. i swear, the whole world did stop at that moment for her! ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who wakes you up with her thigh between your legs, teasing you so seductively that you can't contain your sweet little moans! "c'mon darling, it's time to wake up! I want your moans to be the first thing i hear from you!" ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who became the talk of the town after everyone knew how much younger than sevika you were. not that she minds tho, she loves being the expert when it comes to showing you the most pleasurable things in life. ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ that always expects you to have a lighter in hand, just in case she wants to smoke. she just needs to squeeze your upper thigh and you know it's time to take the lighter out! ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who has a biting kink! oh believe me, this woman loves to look at herself in the mirror and see your teeth marks on her skin. it turns her on so fucking much! ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who always uses her cape to make an entrance, in the bedroom is no different! this woman will showcase her new strap-ons using her cape for theatrical effects! ›

☆ gf!sevika ‹ who goes feral when you call her "handsome" or "good boy". the last time you did, she made sure your voice was gone from how much she made you scream and moan. "you look so handsome on top of me, baby.", that was all it took! ›

Handsy Vika

Sevika x Female Reader.

Your girlfriend loves your chest.

(Head Cannons || Smut + Fluff)

MEN DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT!!!

Cw: Nipple play. Reader doesn’t have a specific chest size, but do they bounce?? idk if thats like.. IDK. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Not Proofread || Note: HAPPY NEW YEARS AAYYY!!! 🥳

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika’s more of the handsy type.

She likes having her grip on things. Whether it’s holding your hand, tapping your ass, wrapping an arm around your waist or even your hips, she likes having you in her grasp— she likes the silent marking of her territory. Letting everyone know you’re hers and only hers.

One thing, however, that gets her attention more than anything else is your chest. She likes how plump your breasts look, how they’re just screaming for her to touch; for her hands.

She doesn’t have a specific type in how big her girlfriend’s boobs should be. But, as they say, the more the merrier.

She enjoys the view of your cleavage. She could stare at it for hours, really. The sight of you in a low cut top makes her hands itch for a poke, a squeeze even.

Even sitting in her lap at The Last Drop she has to hold back the urge to get a brush of a touch. It’s like there’s this invisible force pulling her hand to your chest.

One thing she’ll never admit is that she actually enjoys watching you walk around. She gets lewd thoughts just watching your breasts slightly bounce up and down.

We all know Sevika’s pretty damn protective, but it’s heightened whenever she sees someone’s eyes lingering a millisecond too long on the exposed skin of your chest. She knows you’re pretty, and pretty things attract attention, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. You’re her pretty thing, not some lost diamond waiting to be claimed.

What about when no one else is around? When it’s just the two of you in your shared apartment? When she can do whatever she wants to you?

Watching you walk around with your tight tank top turns her on. More than you’d ever expect.

It’s the way you’re so casually making your way towards the kitchen for a cup of water that gets her heart rate spiling. It’s the way your damn breasts look, all round and soft, that gets her mouth watering.

After trying her best to hold back, your girlfriend will call you over, feigning loneliness and luring you into her lap. And, undoubtedly, you never say no. Not even when her finger runs up and down your stomach, inching closer to your bra. How could you say no to pleasure?

She’ll sweet talk in your ear, whispering dirty little words about your breasts all the while cupping them under your shirt.

“My baby has really soft tits.” Yes, she calls them tits. “You’re harder than before, y’like this?” She’s referring to your hardened nipples. “What if I just?..” and she’ll give you a pinch and a hard pull.

Sometimes what turns her on further is pulling your shirt over your chest, not taking it off but only moving it. Sevika doesn’t understand why she thinks it’s so much more hotter, but all she knows is that she enjoys it.

Kissing your neck with her dark lips while twisting your nipples inbetween her fingers is one way to start it off. She’ll occasionally give them soft squeezes, pushing them together and, as embarrassing as it is for you, poke them and watch them recoil.

All you can do is shiver and moan. The cool metal of her mech hand always makes it harder to focus, especially when she slides it down, under your shorts, and presses it against your clit. It’s a sensation you can’t get enough of, can’t really describe. There’s no real motion, no friction, just a cold touch that makes you squirm.

(No, she won’t stick her mech fingers up your hoo-haa. She’s too scared it’ll scratch you. What if it malfunctions? She’d rather use her flesh fingers.)

Switching spots with her mech hand, she’ll rub against your pulsing clit. She likes feeling your hips shudder in her lap, the way your thighs close and push her fingers harder against you. She has no shame in what it does to her.

Her silver eyes never leave your form. She’ll stare at how her mech fingers are able to dig into your breast, how her flesh hand looks under your shorts, giving them a buldge, how you bite your lip in pure enjoyment, and even how your jaw drops afterwards. Sevika’s in love with your reactions.

Other than using her hands, Sevika likes tasting them aswell. In a comfortable position, she could gobble you up. Nipple in her mouth, she rubs her tongue against the tip. She’ll even, occasionally, give you a gentle bite, a suck and a pull.

She likes keeping eye contact while she does this, because, again, she loves seeing your face as she’s making you feel good. Knowing full well your cunt’s throbbing for more, yelling for contact, she won’t give it to you that quickly.

Alright, now.. what about Sevika when she’s not in the mood for sex? When all she needs is comfort?

After a long day of fixing up after someone’s bullshit, all your girlfriend needs is you.

She’ll come home late and immediately drag herself to the bedroom, laying her eyes on your half-asleep figure. It makes her sleepier.

And you, being the amazing girlfriend you are, always opening your arms for her muscular body to melt into.

She’ll rest her head on your natural cushions, arms lazily draped beside you on the bed as she deeply sighs in relief. Her back pain’s gone (she’s just distracted), her headache lessened, and she’s feeling so, so, so much better.

You’ll press heavenly kisses on her head, fingers playing with her dark hair all the while massaging her scalp. You know full well how to get her relaxed.

Earlier, the mention of your breasts feeling like stress balls— Yeah.. she’ll flip on her side and let her flesh hand give your chest a few, lazy squeezes. Your girlfriend’s too exhausted to care and she’ll continue until she’s snoring in your arms.

sevika always sits you on her lap during her card games, one hand in between your thighs to enjoy your body's warmth. she's got her thumb rubbing slow circles against your clothed clit, ignoring every sniffle and whimper you make when she grinds her thumb a bit too hard.

until it gets to a point where you're too loud due to sevika pushing your panties to the side to access your slick hole. she bullies two thick fingers into you, cooing softly when you moan loudly, enough to draw attention from all over the bar.

when she sees people looking, she stares them down with a look that means death. everyone knows to avert their gaze, despite the tempting sight you make writhing on sevika's lap.

because you're hers and her fucking you in public doesn't mean people are allowed to look at what's hers.

OKAY OKAY COULD YOU PLEASE WRITE SMTH ABOUT SEVIKA PROTECING READER BECAUSE OF SOMETHING LIKE HERE ON THIS PIC SHE PROTECTS JINX AND ISHA??

im sorry if i wrote something wrong but english is not my first language😭🙏

OF COURSE !!!!!!! I have an idea for this...

I got a little carried away and gave you more LOL sorry

Sevika x Fem!Reader

She grabbed you before you could process the fan being turned on. Thankfully, you weren't too far from the table that protected you both, otherwise you would have been swept with the air flow violently.

Your side hurt. The shot Caitlyn took must have not only pierced your skin but the force broke your rib too. Whatever the gun was made of was strong enough to go through the stone pillar behind you partially as well.

Safe to say it hurt as fuck.

You clutched your side and winced as Sevika crouched with you in front of her, the stone table keeping you sat up, but barely. Sevika's new metal arm grabbed onto the table and kept her put, the other going to hold your side with you.

You weren't sure whether your adrenaline was keeping you lucid or if the shot wasn't truly that bad. Regardless, you didn't want to hang around much longer.

You looked up at your girlfriend, head slightly bouncing off the stone behind you as you rested it. She looked worried, and although nothing but pain was filling your sense, you found the energy to sigh and show her a small smile.

Her hair was flying around with the wind, her face showing slight worry and mostly focus as she tried to keep you both behind the table.

"You'll be fine." She mouthed, and you couldn't do much more but nod. You trusted her. You believed her...but the blood slowly seeping through the cracks of your fingers, and onto her hand covering yours, it was looking more like you were not going to be fine.

The wind seemed everlasting and the longer you sat there, waiting for it to stop, the dizzier you became.

You wanted to see Sevika's face for as long as you could. Taking in her scowl of concentration, the barely noticeable glint of nervousness in her eye when she met yours, the shiny scar across her cheek.

You thought she was leaning down to get out of the wind more, but instead she leaned down to your ear and spoke through the loud fan.

"Don't look at me like that." She spoke it as a command as her hand squeezed your bleeding side.

"Like what?" You scoffed quietly, immediately feeling the burn in your rib.

"Like you're about to say goodbye. You're fine."

You hummed and looked back up at her when she pulled away, leaving no room for discussion.

She was so gorgeous, holding you, protecting you, as if you were about to disappear any minute.

Your head spun so much you didn't even notice the fan turn off. Sevika lifted you off the ground and instructed Jinx, who was also carrying a girl, where to go. It all came out as muffled to you though, as the blood loss slowly stared winning, and you passed out.

When you woke up, the first thing you saw was two heads looking down at you. Jinx's braids tickled your nose, while the other girls hair wasn't even long enough to reach her eyebrows. You groaned, immediately going in to hold your side as a reflex to find it bandaged.

"I told you to let her rest." Sevika's voice rung out in a disappointed tone as she walked in with a bunch of fresh bandages in her hand. Presumably for you.

You were in Silco's office, laid down on his sofa. The table was covered with medical supplies, alcohol bottles and jinx's crafts, but your eyes ended up laying upon Sevika. Her worried expression had you worried.

"How are you feeling?" Sevika asked, looking down at you as she put the obnoxious amount of wraps on the table.

"Trust you to get shot." Jinx scoffed playfully as she stared down at you, knowing damn well that bullet was meant for her. "Took it like a champ though!"

You chuckled back and attempted to sit up, but Sevika was faster and pushed you back down, shaking her head.

"I'm fine." You spoke, but Sevika wouldn't relent. She kept you laying down as she changed your bandages carefully. Your eyes fell from Sevika onto the little girl who was still staring down at you. "Who would have thought Jinx took in a stray. What's your name?"

"Her name is Isha. She's sticking around." Jinx replied matter-of-factly, a small smirk on her face as she said it. It made you giggle a bit.

"Alright, out." Sevika stood up from crouching beside you as she finished your bandages. Jinx took Isha and left, excited to show her some of her trinkets to get her mind off of...recent events. "She needs to rest."

"I'm alright." You spoke, reaching out for Sevika's hand to help you up. "How bad was it?"

"Bad enough to have me worried." She sighed, sitting beside you and letting you lean on her.

"Sorry." You sighed back, almost identically. "And you know, thank you."

She wrapped her hand around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.

"Anytime."

“you’re a scary lady” suuuuure

mdni. sub-bottom vi. fem-top reader. strap-on usage. fwb. vaginal sex. degradation.

wc; 1,160

thinking about being friends with benefits with vi. despite the casualness of your relationship, she’s always so needy for you, and you love how addicted your own best friend has become to your touch—to the way your hands and mouth and cock can reduce the tough, headstrong woman to a desperate, mewling mess. it’s a heady feeling, knowing that vi can't get enough of you.

she texts you at odd hours, short and direct—you free?—as if you’d ever say no. and when you show up at her place, she’s already waiting by the door like an overeager puppy, hair messy, lips red and parted, pupils wide as if she’s been thinking about this all day—and you know she has been. she’s always desperate for cock, but it’s not her fault; with how well you take care of her sweet hole, of course she’s become dependent on you for her pleasure.

she needs you to be rough with her, to be mean, and you’re the only one who knows how to use her exactly as she craves, how to put her in her place. no matter how much she tries to hide it, you’re completely aware that vi gets off on the roughness, the dominance, the sheer ownership in your touch, and you’re more than happy to give it to her—to use her strong body for your own twisted pleasure.

tonight, she’s laying on her stomach, atop her bedsheets, while you ride her ass. in this position, her pussy is so much tighter than usual, it’s almost hard for you to fuck in and out of her, and her glistening cream is obscenely glazing your strap.

your hands grip her hips bruisingly, guiding her onto your cock as she buries her face in her pillow, stifling the sounds of how desperate and whiny she is. her body shudders beneath your touch, trembling because you’re filling her just the way she needs, and she’s clawing against her bedsheets like a misbehaving cat.

”you love it when—mmf, i fuck you like a bitch?” you murmur against her ear, and she gasps as if she’s been burned, like your words have struck a cord deep inside her.

she doesn’t answer right away, too caught up in the way you’re using her little pussy for your own entertainment, her breath coming out in sharp, uneven bursts—but eventually, she blubbers, ”yes, yes, i love it so much—mghff!”

”what are you, then?” you press, breathlessly.

you pull your hips back until only the tip of your cock is being gripped within her tight heat, before slamming back inside her in a single, harsh thrust, keeping her hips pinned to the bed so she has nowhere to run. vi keens like a wounded soldier.

”a bitch—aghh! i’m your bitch!” vi sobs, and she’s trying to fuck back against your strap—trying to feel you as deep inside her gummy, pink walls as she possibly can—but you won’t allow her to.

you admire the way her ass ripples every time your pelvis bounces off of her, the firm globes of muscle jiggling, and it’s hypnotizing. the lewd sound of skin smacking against skin echoes throughout her obsolete bedroom, mingling with the obscene wet noise of vi’s creamy pussy being fucked into submission.

you press kisses to her shoulder blades, licking over her tattoos, before groaning, ”yeahhh, that’s right, fuck—ahh, guess you’re not so dumb after all.”

vi whines louder than before, as if she’s agreeing that your cock always fucks her stupid without fail.

she has no choice but to clench down around your thick strap stretching her open, relishing in the way it kisses her cervix with each punishing drive of your hips. vi’s arousal is dripping down her thighs now, the dirty sound of her juices squelching plays in your ears like music. you’re using her as if she’s a cocksleeve, as if she’s nothing more to you than a toy for you to fuck, and it’s making her eyes cross with irrevocable pleasure.

you continue your relentless pace, hips grinding forward with a brutal intensity that rocks vi’s entire body with each thrust. you swear you can feel her pussy clenching and fluttering around your strap, gripping it like a vice; a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey.

the dirty view only spurs you on, pushing you to fuck into vi’s tight heat with even more animalistic fervor, determined to make her come undone until she can’t even speak, until static fills her ears and her brain melts out of her head.

”unghh—! you’re fucking me, you’re fucking me,” vi slurs mindlessly. she sounds like a desperate whore that’s been fucked stupid. you know she’s getting close, that her tongue has probably lolled out like a dumb dog by now, that her chin is most likely drenched in her own drool.

yeah. she’s your bitch, alright.

snickering, you dig your nails into her ass, spreading her cheeks apart so you can see the nasty way her pussy is gripping onto your cock with added clarity, and then you deliver harsh smacks to each globe. vi squeals—as you expected her to—and her pale skin blossoms red like roses in the spring.

she tries to get up onto her knees, but you’re sitting on the back of her thighs. she tries to fuck back onto your cock, but you harshly press her hips to the bed. she can’t run from the pleasure, she can’t find relief, all she can do is take it.

with newfound ferocity, you pound away at her ass as if it personally offended you. the flesh of your hips is clap, clap, clapping against vi’s rear perhaps faster than the speed of light, and it’s exhausting, it takes immense strength and determination—but you’re determined to make vi come so hard she cries.

you spit onto your fingers and then slip your hand underneath vi’s muscular body, rubbing two of the digits against her clit with the precision of a brain surgeon. you know exactly how much pressure to apply to her clit, how fast she likes it to be, which side of the little nub is more sensitive than the other—and vi orgasms then, intense and sudden.

milky white cream leaks from her cunt in splotches around your shaft and it almost looks like you, yourself, came inside her. you groan at the sight, unabashedly, and rub your fingers harsher against vi’s clit, until she’s flinching away from your touch and sobbing. 

you remove your fingers from her clit and trace up the length of her spine with your tongue, before pressing soft kisses to her shoulder blades, feeling the way her skin is buzzing beneath your lips. and vi’s panting harshly against her pillow but not saying a word, so you know you successfully fucked all thoughts from her head.

gently, you pull your cock out of your best friend’s pussy, while she can only lay there trembling.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala, @ellieslob, @idontwannabehereatm, @rhian88, @kyur1jinx, @vivispace, @girlbeatings, @thatgrlnany @blackdykegirlblogger, @imfckngfantastic

(2/13/25)

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."