Headcannons Or A Story With Vi And Jinx Having A Younger Sister That Has Little Space Or Who’s Autistic?

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."

we need recs fics of sevika x reader pleaseee

disclaimer: may contain sexual content. check the tags on the posts for warnings.

˚୭ ॱ˖ Sevika / pregnant reader(5k+ words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ Rugby player Sevika / Vi / reader(9.5k words) and part two(6.5k words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ Huge collection of sevika stuff

˚୭ ॱ˖ Sevika / Ambessa / reader and part two

˚୭ ॱ˖ Reader with a mommy kink blurb

˚୭ ॱ˖ "Midnight Cowboy" Sevika / reader

˚୭ ॱ˖ Sevika is your Christmas present

˚୭ ॱ˖ Professor Sevika

˚୭ ॱ˖ Sugar mommy Sevika / Ambessa / reader(10k+ words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ Sevika teaches you how to suck strap

And some longer fics on ao3…

˚୭ ॱ˖ Favorite Fantasy(70k words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ Get To Your Point(43k+ words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ A Wager(15k words)

˚୭ ॱ˖ This Wild, Fragile Thing(70k+ words)

sorry this list is so short:( i recently cleaned out my likes(which is usually how i “save” posts on here) and i couldn’t find a lot of my favs. if i do i’ll add onto this in the future.

The Regular

Summary: Working at babette’s you’re used to people asking for you after being in your company. You’re used to some of your clients speaking to you in passing, telling you they’ll see you soon. But your not used to that person being Silco’s right hand (wo)man.

Warning: mentions of prostitution, drinking, smoking, mentions of stalking, mentions of r#pe (very briefly), mentions of sex but none actually occurs, let me know if i missed anything else

a/n: Very clique plot for Sevika I know I know, but its perfect.

You’ve been working for babette since you were in your early twenties, now years have passed and you’ve grown accustomed to the life of a prostitute. Babette takes good care of you, as she does for most of her workers. Its just in her nature as she knows the work isn’t easy.

Throughout you many years of working for her you’ve had your bad experiences, men being way too rough, some even stalking you, but the past week you had the worst of them all. A specific client thats visited you multiple times forced his seed inside of you, breaking one of the few rules. After you were a bit shaken up and immediately went to Babette about it.

She immediately sent someone to go get the need medicine to prevent a pregnancy, comforting you and granting you a week off per your request. You spent the first couple days laying in bed and sleeping, as you didnt get much due to your job. The rest you spent taking a much needed self reset, doing things that made you happy. Like taking a nice bath, trimming your hair and nails, painting them in your favorite color, and cleaning to soothe your anxiety if it came creeping back up. The day before you had to go back you made sure to get enough sleep knowing your body craved more rest before returning to the tasking work.

On your first day back you took your time getting yourself together, walking into Babettes office and asking who had booked you today. To your surprise she informed you that Sevika booked you for your whole shift. You could tell by her tone that she was a bit surprised too, but she didnt mention it. She mentioned that every day you were gone she barged in asking for you, and with each passing day she got more aggravated with hearing ‘Shes not here today.’

Shes payed you many visits throughout the past couple months, sometimes seeing other girls but she always came back to you. Whispering in your ear that no one could satisfy her better than you, while you whined and moaned on the strap she always wore when seeing you. You let out a hum as you strolled down the hall, knowing she was waiting for you in your room.

As you pushed open the curtain your eyes landed on her, taking up a good amount of space on the couch, her legs spread wide with her mechanical arm resting on the back of the couch as she smoked her cigar with her right. You let the curtains fall behind you as you leisurely walked towards her. Once you were close enough she moved the arm from the back of the couch and wrapped the cold metal around your nearly bare skin. Letting it slip down to your hip as she pulled you into her lap.

With a smile you got comfortable while perched in her lap, placing your hands on her shoulders and moving them to the back of her neck. Playing with the locks on the back of her head. She took one last drag of the cigar, digging it into the tray that you had in your room just for her as she blew the smoke into your face.

You breathed it in with a sigh, it was quiet for a moment before she spoke up. “You’ve kept me waiting woman.” Despite her harsh words there was no ounce of anger lacing her tone. Using her actual arm to place under your chin and held it firmly.

“Wanna let me know why that is hm?” She leaned in slightly, a sly smile pulled on your lips. “Missed me sev?” You were avoiding the question, you both knew it. She let out a huff, ducking her head to your neck and placed a soft bite to your neck, not enough to hurt but enough to make it known she wanted answers. You tilted your head back in bliss, missing the way her mouth felt pressed against your neck. As she pulled away from your neck you whined at the loss of contact.

Through the many visits you let your persona fade away, letting yourself enjoy her pleasure just as much as she enjoyed yours. Not caring to put up a front like you do with other clients. “Tell me.” Letting out a huff you look at her, glancing away briefly as you mumbled to her what happened. You knew you shouldn’t, it wasn’t a good idea but it was Sevika. Not just some random man who came stumbling in.

Immediately her attitude shifted, her touch more gentle but she would deny it if you brought it up. You spent the next hours in each other’s blissful company while she praised you, focusing more on you than pleasuring herself.

When it was time to leave she fixed up her appearance slightly in the tiny mirror you kept to fix yourself up in-between clients while you sat next to her. You stared at her tiredly, sighing as you got up from the couch. She placed the mirror down that seemed smaller in her big hands, standing up and towering over you. She took two pouches of coins from her bag and tossed them on the table, “Keep ‘em. I’ll see you later doll.” You smiled at her and waved your fingers at her as she left.

You felt more at peace as you changed into your regular clothes, placing the two pouches Sevika gave you in your bag. Waving to Babette as you left the brothel for the night, and grabbing some food from Jericho’s on your way home.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Weeks have passed since then, you’ve fallen back into your usual routine. Lately Sevika’s visits have been less sex and more talking. Mostly her complaining about all the shit she has to deal with when it comes to cleaning up after jinx messes, and Silco’s been putting more work on her than usual. Of course no matter what you two were doing you enjoyed her company, the whole time she rambled you ran your fingers through her hair, up and drown the side of her neck while holding her cigar for her until she motioned for it.

On one of those days you told her about how you used her money to fix up your place, you managed to snag of of the few two story homes in zaun. Of course it was abandoned at first but with much grueling work and help from some friends years ago you fixed it up the best you could. You slightly rambled on how you were able to buy a heater to fight against the grueling cold weather that was flowing through zaun right now. You also told her that you were able to buy some new outfits you think she’d like.

Today though was one of the few days you were off, a friend from the brothel asked to snag one of your shifts because she needed some money to buy her son new winter clothes. Of course you let her have it, obviously making sure sevika didnt book you for that day.

Deciding you wanted to get a drink today instead of staying home you pulled on some old worn down leggings and then some thick cargo jeans. Sliding on a black long sleeve that was skin tight and a thick jacket you purchased many cold winters ago which was obvious due to the jacket being worn down. Pairing the outfit with your old black boots that don’t get much wear now. But it did the job so you couldn’t care less. After sliding money in your pocket that would surely cover a few drinks you headed out to The Last Drop.

You pushed the doors open and were immediately greeted with strobe lights and loud music, and smoke flowing through the air. Pushing your way through the crowd to get to the bar, you slid into a bar stool and ordered a shot of whiskey. It was a bit expensive but you liked to take pleasure in spoiling yourself sometimes.

So as you downed the shot, and the next few you didn’t think about how much it costed. Instead you cherished the way the warm liquid ran down your throat. You didn’t take enough to get drunk, but enough to feel a slight buzz. You decided to just sit at the bar for a while until you heard an all too familiar whistle.

It was the whistle she used every-time you stripped off your new set, or when you moved in a way she particularly liked. You head slowly turned to the sound, locking eyes with her. She was sitting in a booth near the stairs that led up to what you would assume is Silco’s office. She was sitting across from a work colleague she mentioned once, Ran if you remembered correctly.

You tried to fight the small smile that played on your lips as she beckoned you over, you slid off the barstool and walked over to her booth. Sliding in to sit next to her. Her arm immediately moved to rest behind you, “What’re you doing here doll?” You glanced to her friend who was simply looking at you. Not with a glare or anything but was trying to figure out who you were. Looking back over at her. “Had the day off, wanted a drink.” You shifted your leg so it was draping over hers, something you’ve grown accustomed to.

She hummed, eyes glancing down at your leg which seemed so much smaller compared to hers. Something she enjoyed when the time came. “If I knew any better i’d say you were looking for me.” She let a teasing smirk pull on her face. You saw her friend slide out the booth through the corner of your eye but didn’t pay it any mind. “Would it be so bad if I was?” Raising your brows at her in a playful manner.

Her hand lifted from behind the couch, wrapping around and her fingers grazed your cheek. Her gentleness taking you aback for a moment, “No, it wouldn’t.” she stared down at you for a moment before rest her hand on your thigh and turned to take a sip from her drink.

The rest of the night you spent with each other, sitting in the booth and talking. Getting to know one another beyond sex, and the rambling that occurred in the brothel. When the night came to a close she walked you back to your house, and with much convincing she stayed the night.

m.list

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

‘cause i hate to wait so long

★vi x f!reader

part one

wc: 4.9k

cw: hurt/comfort

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t worried.

Not at first.

But then, the little things started piling up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

Your head jerked back like she had slapped you.

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

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

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

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

You stared at her, stunned.

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

“I’m not pushing you away!”

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

That did it.

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

Like you weren’t already hurting.

Like you weren’t already attached.

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

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

She flinched, but you didn’t stop.

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

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

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

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

“Hope you’re finally free from me.”

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

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

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

But you were sure about Violet.

You were sure she was the love of your life.

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

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

But sometimes, love isn’t enough.

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

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

You had tried. God, had you tried.

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

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

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

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

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

Because she was supposed to be your forever.

──────────────────────

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

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

Anything was better than the silence.

But you didn’t call. You didn’t text.

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

She just didn’t know how.

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

But feelings? Talking? Healing?

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

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

She screwed things up a little bit more.

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

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

“Rough night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

──────────────────────

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

“Hello?”

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

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

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

“Can you open your door, please?”

Vi.

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

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

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

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

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

Silence. Then, barely above a whisper—

“Yeah.”

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

You cracked it open, and there she was.

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

“You look like shit” you muttered.

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

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

Instead, you stepped aside.

“Come in.”

And she did, wobbling slightly as she walked in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But I want to…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hesitated.

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

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

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

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

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

Vi flinched, guilt flashing across her face.

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

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

She stayed silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

──────────────────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you were trying to quit coffee.”

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

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

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

World’s Best Girlfriend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they had.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the worst part?

You wanted to give it to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, once more, you let yourself believe her.

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

Like you always did, like you always would.

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

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

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

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

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

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

──────────────────────

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

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

Not so big & bad after all

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ sub!loser!vi x dom!reader

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

Don’t come in less than ten minutes.

Seemed easy enough, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl, Vi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had NO RIGHT looking that good!!! Anyway rock, paper DEFINITELY scissor🥴✂️🥵

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.

I honestly feel like this song captures what Mel probably feel towards her mother especially these verses

~Childlike mother and a motherly child Child like it's mother, like mother like child Too alike to love each other more Than acceptably mild A dog bites bones like a daughter bites her words Fight like wolves but flee like birds We're from the same pack but From rivaling herds~

I don't think Ambessa is a very affectionate person or honestly knows how to portray affection without making her feel like she is being weak which of course strained the relationship between her and her mother

I feel like she would listen to this song while laying on bed when she first left Noxus maybe reminiscing and hoping her mother could see her for what she is...

you don’t know how long you’ve been lying here; sweaty, panting, sinking your nails into vi’s shoulder, but all you know is that she’s been having way too much fun. too much fun seeing how many times she could make you cum; it was a joke at first, mindlessly mumbling that she could make you cum more than 3 times, more than any ex has in a night. for a second you knew she was joking but when you saw the mischievous glint in her eyes and that infuriating yet adorable grin, you knew you were fucked. vi wasn’t joking anymore.

she was adamant about making you cum more times for her than anyone else. “vi,” you murmured, fingers threading through her hair with a soft whine. her hum vibrates through your body and curls her fingers slowly, brushing against your walls perfectly. “fuck!” you gasped, squeezing your legs around her head and grinding up against her touch. vi’s quick to remove her hand from your hip, to grip your leg, pinning it down as she fucks her fingers in and out faster, grinning around your clit with each sound you let out.

“baby, s’too much,” you moaned and gripped the back of her head. were you trying to use her away or pull her closer? you weren’t sure anymore. the grip she has on your legs gets tighter each time your legs start to tremble, to thrash around and try to move, and by the way her eyebrows pinch forward into a tight frown, and her eyes flicker up to your face, it’s a silent you’re not going anywhere. the tears well up in the corners of your eyes before you can stop them, your walls clenching tightly around her fingers with each thrust and your toes curling.

vi grins once more, her fingertips brushing your velvet walls more vigorously and she swears that seeing you lying here, panting heavily and sweating profusely, is the second hottest thing she’s ever seen. watching you cum is always first. you assumed she would be done after the third time making you cum, but as you hold her tighter you realise she’s not.

it’s at a certain thrust of her fingers that your hand grabs a fistful of hair and grinds against her tongue and fingers sloppily. “gonna cum,” you choked out, tightening around her fingers. i know, she thinks and hums around your clit. “vi, stop, i can't,” but she doesn’t, she never falters and keeps fucking you.

your eyes flutter closed, the tears slip down your face and you tremble beneath her as your fingers tugged and pulled her hair; dragging her where you needed as you fucked yourself against her mouth. vi reluctantly removes her hand from your leg, and presses it down on your stomach instead, enjoying the way your back arched into her and your mouth opened with a loud shaky moan. “vi!” you cried out, your cunt squeezing around her fingers more. “please, m’gonna cum, please,” you sobbed pathetically.

she simply hums again, somewhat nods and curls her fingers, reaching that spongy spot deep inside that you barely get time to register what’s happening; your body tenses, hands holding her head still against you as you gush over her tongue with a broken string of whimpers.

vi fucks you through your orgasm, riding you through your high before she’s withdrawing her fingers, leaving you whiny and empty, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh with a subtle grin. “so, when you’ve had water, wanna see if we can make you cum a few more times?”