Fuck it
what are some of YOUR favorite HCs for our ladies? Any subjects, just things you haven't been able to bring up or talk about through requests
I wanna hear your thoughts :3c
~đ
Oh my gosh, finally someone wants to hear me outttt, you're the sweetest, anon đ, thank youuu
Headcanons (Ft. Sevika, Ambessa Medarda, Violet, Jinx)
Sevika
Multilingual through and through but sometimes a little bit of this language slips in through a little bit of that language because there's just so much in her vocabulary that she can't get across by using one singular language (Am I projecting? Yes.)
Sensitive to South Asian stereotypes and butch lesbian stereotypes
Likely to beat someone up over it
Grew up in a mysoginistic society which made her feel that she was somehow below men in the past but she doesn't let that affect her now
Considers dyeing her hair because she's insecure of the gray
In her past relationships, her ex girlfriends always made her feel like she needed to wear the pants in the relationship, so she never really was the one being spoiled, spooned or even simply headpatted
Loves being able to show even the slightest bit of feminity when she can with you, but it's rare because she's so insecure of it
If you bring it up, she'll say "Ridiculous," with a scoff and a head shake
Immensely insecure ever since she lost her arm and struggles with body image issues. Please reassure her
Has anger issues and breaks things when she's angry
She's just a kitten when she's angry so hold her close and hug her. Tell her it's okay and coo praises to her
No matter what I've seen other authors say, I think Sevika does get sort of abusive when she's angry, but she doesn't hit you of course. Instead, she slams and breaks things in the house
Ambessa Medarda
Brings you expensive gifts just because she can
When you sleep next to her, Ambessa hums a song and you can't help wonder of her melodious voice, and that she should sing more
Makes honey tea for you with her own hands and goodness does it taste like heaven, she tastes better though
Kneels down and does your straps for you even if her ego is so high, she loves kneeling before you in front of people to flash the dynamic of your relationship with her
Likely to propose only if you share the same loyalty for family as her
Eye contact means everything to this woman whether it's a normal setting, intimate setting or simply sexâ look into her golden eyes and whisper "I love you"s
Would figuratively die out of concern if you ever got hurt in any way possible, wouldn't let you out of the Medarda Estate in fear you'll get hurt again. It may take a while for her trust in the world to build again, but she's not all that controlling
Shockingly lets you wear whatever you want to wear when outside but don't expect her to coddle you and take her time stripping you form those clothes. She is feral, she'll tear them off
Her love language is providing all sorts of protection that you need from whoever even if it may be the most dangerous person on the planet, you're safe with Ambessa
Vows to keep you safe whenever you fall asleep, mumbling them to herself as a constant reminder that whatever happens, her loyalty was to you and her family
Her kisses are surprisingly warm, gentle and calculated. She doesn't want to rush, and takes her sweet time. Sometimes it's barely tongue, and she just enjoys the feeling of your sweet lips against hers
Violet
Although she claims she doesn't care for your commands, if you told her to sit she'll sit
Favorite part of your body is your boobs no matter if they're big/small. She'll bury her face in them and even use them as stress balls. Nothing lewd really, she just likes sniffing them. What a pervert but come on, it's Vi
Loves interlacing her fingers with yours, rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of her thumb
Always carries sanitary pads/tampons for you to be your saviour at times of crisis
Can't stand your pout or your tears. Crocodile tears or not, Vi is buying you whatever you want or beating someone up over something that you want. She can't stand seeing her princess all pouty
"You're not scared of me, are you?" Vi's sometimes afraid what impression she gives off to you
Worried because you may be exposed to Shimmer. She doesn't care what the living conditions are, but she doesn't want you to get addicted to any sort of substance that can cause your life to go downhill
Stares at you so much you're sometimes worried whether she's even listening to what you have to say, or when you're just casually conversing she's staring at you as if you've grown two heads.
In reality, Vi takes one long look at you, one that could battle a stare contest, and decides you're too good for her. But she'll never say that out loud in fear you're gonna leave her
Scared she's gonna lose her shit and hit you when she's angry because poor baby has anger issues
Very much capable of confidently arguing with a child and losing
Jinx
Has anxious attachment issues with you, she knows it and you know it. But you both silently acknowledge that
Perfect dates mean bombing and terrorising Pilties with her... Or, you both could decide on a sugar marathon. Whichever you prefer
Her love language is putting effort into remembering the things that you like, often stealing the best of it from Piltover. Jinx makes you your favourite weapons in your favourite colour, with little scribbles that say you belong to her
Blushes when you hug her and she awkwardly returns it back but when she gets comfortable she can't stop hugging you
If you ever left her, she'd actually lose her shit, she's way too attached with you
Overthinks the whole love confession thing before you both dated and she lit your yard on fire with the words "I LOVE YOU"
Cried in your arms after Caitlyn shot her middle finger off. She was so upset, you almost gutted the woman for doing that to your baby
Sometimes she loses her shit, hallucinates and you wake up tied to her chair, her knife poking at your heart. "Love me. Love me. Love me." She repeats, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Jinx calms down eventually, unties you and asks you if she scared you. You always tell her no and give her headpats
Jinx is way too scared of relying on anyone emotionally and you can tell. You don't force her to trust you immediately but it is a slow process, she slowly starts to open up more
Swings her legs back and forth from the edge of the bed while you do her hair. Your arm workout is doing her hair
You motivate her to actually take care of herself, eat properly and shower. But you have to do it all with her
Surprisingly can pick you up
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!
â âArcane Women x criminal!reader Headcannons
Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel, Ambessa.
Genre: fluff
Warnings â ď¸: Arcane Women x reader, Fem!reader, Criminal!Reader, mentions of murder, fluff, violence implied.
-Jinx
âJinx 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.
â"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.
âShe 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.
âJink 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
âVi 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?
â"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.
âOnce 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.
â"Damn, sweetheart. You just slit a guy's throat, and now you're all shy 'cause I called you pretty? That's adorable."
-Caitlyn
âCaitlyn 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.
âShe 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?
âCaitlyn doesn't trust you at first, but once she sees you softer side, she starts questioning everything.
â"You- you're a murder. A criminal. And yet you just helped that old woman cross the street?"
âThe contradictory of your personality fascinates her. She might even hesitated to arrest you.
-Sevika
âSevika 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.
âShe initially thinks it's an act, a manipulation tactic, but the more time she spends with you, the more she realizes it's genuine.
â"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."
âSevika 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.
â"There's my girl."
-Mel
âMel is intrigued by you the moment she hears your name. Sheâs dealt with powerful people before, but someone with your reputation? Thatâs a different kind of influence.
ââA killer with a soft heartâŚ" how very unusual.â She studies you like a puzzle, fascinated by the way you switch between cold-blooded and sweet.
âMel finds your duality entertaining. Sheâll say something flirtatious just to watch your confident demeanor crack.
ââFor someone so feared, you do crumble quite easily under my gaze. How adorable.â
âBut sheâs also deeply respectful of your strength. She knows better than to underestimate you, no matter how affectionate you are.
-Ambessa
âAmbessa isnât easily impressed, but the moment she hears about you, sheâs intrigued. A dangerous, high-profile criminal? She likes power, and you have plenty of it.
âWhen she meets you and sees how shy you are despite your reputation, she canât help but chuckle.
â"I expected a monster. Instead, I find a kitten.â
âShe enjoys the contrast. She also enjoys watching you switch from soft to brutal in an instant. It proves youâre not weakâjust selective about who sees your true self.
Silk Ribbons and Captured Hearts
Caitlyn x girly girl!reader
cw: 2K words | no warnings, just Caitlyn and her lovely femme <3
-----------------
Caitlyn is infatuated with you.
Your relationship with Caitlyn is somewhere on the line between acquaintances and friends, running in the same high circles. Your family, much like the Kirammans, is respected and known within Piltover. You've met Caitlyn on many occasions: galas, banquets, other fancy events your parents had dragged you to.Â
Most of your time spent together had come from conversing casually at events, or during council meetings whenever you both had been waiting for your parents to finish their work. Youâre a few years younger than Caitlyn, so she had offered to help you with any work you had been doing at Piltover Academy. You were a good student as well, matching her intellect. Caitlyn, despite trying to focus on your homework, would find her gaze drawn to you. Watching your eyes light up whenever you talked about something you were interested in, a small, unconscious smile gracing your lips, had easily captivated her.
That was when you were both younger, though. Now, she can't help but take notice of the beautiful woman you had become. All short skirts and fitted tops, sundresses and carefully chosen accessories, youâre like a warm sunbeam that Caitlyn canât draw her eyes away from.Â
It all starts with Caitlyn going shopping in the main streets of Piltover, and she steps into a local boutique filled with cute clothes and handmade jewelry. It's not really her style, but her eyes catch on a stand filled with silk ribbon, and it reminds her of the ribbons you occasionally wear in your hair. And oh, you'd just look so pretty in that shade of purple and-
She leaves with three of them.
A few days later, youâre at a statue unveiling of some old general in Piltoverâs army, and Caitlyn sees you again. And fuck you just look so pretty in your white maxi skirt and cropped tank that shows off just a hint of midriff, and Caitlyn canât stop staring. She finally gets herself together, glancing down at the lavender silk ribbon in her hand. Should she give it to you now? Should she wait? What if you didnât like it? Worse, what if you donât like her even after figuring out sheâs smitten with you?
Caitlyn immediately clams up, deciding itâs better to give it to you anonymously. She darts off to the area where everyoneâs bags and coats are under the guise of finding something she had forgotten in her bag. Once there, she grabs a notepad from her own bag and writes a note:
I thought this would look lovely on you.Â
Yours,
AnonymousÂ
After attaching it to the ribbon and quietly slipping back into the crowd, Caitlyn canât really focus on the ceremony. She tries, she really does, but the sound of your casual laughter in conversation unwillingly draws her attention. She also tries not to eye you when you politely make conversation with Caitlynâs own parents, but, well, sheâs long since given up on that one. Maybe sheâll have better self-control in the future.
______
Any thoughts of self-control die the moment you step into the coffee shop where Caitlyn is sitting with Jayce. Because youâre just so beautiful, wearing some lavender sundress and sandals and holy shit is that-?
Caitlynâs mouth goes dry at the sight of the silky lavender ribbon in your hair â the one she had bought for you â tied around two pigtails hold your hair half-up. She canât tear her eyes away, even as you step up to order and smile brightly at the barista. So much so that Jayce turns around to see what sheâs looking at before turning back to her with a puzzled expression. âUh, Cait? You good?â
She snaps her jaw shut, nodding tightly. âYeah,â she lets her eyes linger on you for a second longer. âEverythingâs perfectly fine.â
Jayce glances in your direction once again before a knowing smile dawns on his face. âOh,â he turns back to Caitlyn, eyes smug and teasing. âYou like-"
âShut up,â Caitlyn hisses, glaring deeply at him, half because she doesnât want you to overhear this and half because she doesnât want Jayce to have another thing to hold over her.Â
Jayce just raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of tea as if waiting for her to explain.
Caitlyn just sighs, glancing down at her own pristine teacup. âI- how can I not?â She mumbles, glancing at you. âSheâs, wellâŚperfect.â
________
And because you just had to go and look so ridiculously, effortlessly, beyond gorgeous in the lavender ribbon, of course Caitlyn has to go and buy five other colors. Because who is Caitlyn if not willing to spend her seemingly endless amounts of money on the little things her love crush likes. A tiny part of her also preens at seeing you so happy to wear something she gave you, as if sheâs subtly showing everyone that youâre hers. But sheâd never admit to that, of course.
And every time she manages to slip you a ribbon, she leaves another tiny note.
These suit you so much, I thought it would be a shame not to have more.
I think this color will look so nice with your hair.
Please take these ribbons as my way of telling you how beautiful you are.
Your ribbon collection continues to build: baby pink, forest green, crimson red, the lightest grey that reminds you of clouds on a cozy winter morning. You smile every time you find a new one in your bag, keeping the notes safely tucked away in a small box in your closet. You read them from time to time, gently tracing a finger over the words as if you can feel the affection they convey.Â
Experimentally, with all this ribbon, you donât confine it to just your hair. You tie it around your ankle, thinking it looks cute (Caitlyn agrees, smiles way too long when she sees it on you in passing). Then, around your wrists: a pair of bows. And when you show up at her house to drop off something from your family to the Kirammans, Caitlynâs eyes go wide when she catches sight of the ribbon carefully tied around your upper thigh â just peeking out from the short skirt youâre wearing.Â
Holy fucking shit is all Caitlyn manages to register in her mind. She doesnât pay attention to whatever youâre talking about with her mother. She just pays attention to the gift she gave you, a symbol of her, tied around your thigh. Sheâs highly tempted to step forward and grab the end of it, untying it just to replace it with her hand and squeeze-
Pull yourself together.
And she does, barely. Manages to mumble out a few weak words as you depart, missing the smug smile that graces your features as you turn to leave. Misses the way you turn a little faster than necessary so your skirt spins and she gets another view of the ribbon wrapped around your thigh. You leave, Cassandra goes on with her business, and all is normal again.
Youâre a strong presence in Caitlynâs dreams that night.
______
And then one day, thereâs a knock on Caitlynâs office door, and she calls an official-sounding âcome inâ only for you to enter. Caitlyn stands up a little too quickly, clearing her throat and straightening her uniform. She moves out from behind her desk to face you. âThis is- uh- a surprise,â Caitlyn murmurs, eyes flitting to the navy blue ribbon laced through your high ponytail, your hair half up. Sheâs sure she hasnât bought you a navy ribbon yet.
âMy father sent me to ask if the gala for your motherâs birthday next week will still be in your ballroom?â You ask, shifting nervously. Itâs a simple question, one that you donât really need an answer to.
Luckily, Caitlyn is too distracted to notice. She just blinks, forcing her mouth to move. âUm, right. Yes, itâs going to be held there.â
You nod, your eyes locked with her piercing blue ones. âOkay. Yeah. Sorry for the interruption, I just happened to be nearby and he, uh, wanted to know.â
Even still, Caitlyn only half registers your weak excuse. Her eyes narrow at the ribbon. Itâs different than the silky ones sheâs bought you: thinner and less shiny. So, instead of formulating one of her usual, sensible responses to you, she canât help but let her curiosity spill out. âYour ribbon.â
âMy-" you touch your hair lightly. âMy ribbon?â
âWhere is it from?â She asks, flatly. For the past weeks, the only ribbon you've been wearing has been the ones she's been giving you. Was this an old one of yours? Did you buy it recently? Or is it from someone else? Something in her chest tightens at the last idea.
Sheâs not prepared for the smile you flash her. âWellâ you sigh, tilting your head a little as if the answer is obvious. âI thought that since my anonymous gifter keeps buying me ribbon, I should have one in her color.â
âŚ
Wait.
It takes a second of blank staring before Caitlynâs jaw drops. âYou-" she stumbles in her wording â an extremely rare occasion sheâs been taught to avoid. But all her composure is lost with you.
âMe,â your smile holds a hint of satisfaction that Caitlyn kind of just wants to scream at. Or kiss off your face. Either one.
âYou knew?!â Her tone is incredulous, like sheâs been so secretive that she canât conceive how you found out she was the one gifting you these ribbons. âHow?!â
âFirst of all, I know your handwriting. Remember how you gave me corrections on my schoolwork when we were younger and our parents had council meetings?â
âI-" Caitlyn stutters, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks.Â
âAnd second,â you continue, not quite done. âYou havenât been very subtle about it. You seem to forget something in your bag at every event weâre at together, and then the ribbon happens to appear in mine after you come back.â
Caitlynâs quiet for a few moments. âOh.â
You smile. "Yeah, oh."
Caitlyn's blue eyes meet your own, devoid of her usual composure to show her slight nerves. "So...?" her voice is almost anxious.
"So," you repeat, gently reaching up to touch the navy ribbon in your hair again. The one that perfectly matches her navy Enforcer's uniform she's wearing right now. "I wore this...for you."
Caitlyn takes a shaky breath, heart pounding. "Does that mean-?"
She's cut off by your soft lips against her own. Your kiss is gentle and chaste, just a peck, and she barely has enough time to process what's happening before you pull away. "I like you," you say, your smile turning shy.
Caitlyn blinks at you, dazed. She's normally always so in command, so in control of her every action â whether that's in her Enforcer duties or her sharpshooting competitions or just her life in general â but with you, all hope of control always seems to fade.Â
She steps even closer to you, gently reaching out a hand to trail along your cheek. "I like you too," she murmurs, and this time, you fear you're the one that's losing your composure because her gaze looks so loving and tender that it makes your cheeks burn.Â
And when Caitlyn kisses you again, deeper this time, you allow yourself to sigh against her lips. She kisses you as if you're something fragile, something to be treasured and cared for. And you know, in that moment, that she'll do anything for you. That, if you asked for the moon, she'd personally find away to fly amongst the stars to take it for you.Â
"Are you mine?" Caitlyn asks the second she pulls away with a gentle nip to your bottom lip that makes you shiver.Â
"I always have been," you mumble, letting yourself bury your face in her shoulder to hide your flushed cheeks.Â
And Caitlyn just smiles, her arms snaking around your waist to pull you against her chest. "That's all I could ever ask for, darling."
ghost. part ii â sevika x reader WC: 4.4K
â: wrote n proofread while crossed. chop shit fr. will reread when sober n correct errors if needed. â ď¸: kissing, alcohol consumption, mild misogyny, blood, psychological horror/thriller elements
As you enter the elevator, the world outside seems to blur; your polished fingernail quivers while pressing the button for floor thirteen. The brass numbers shine brightly beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, and in the mirrored doors, you glimpse your reflectionâpale, weary, haunted.
Your mind is a mess, running a million miles a minute as it replays the previous night. The pounding in your skull is relentless, a hangover blooming behind your eyes. You rub your temple, trying to will away the ache, the scent of stale perfume and coffee clinging to your skin.
Just as the doors begin to close, an arm darts through the narrowing gap. You flinch, causing one of the coffees in your tray to slosh over, scalding your wrist. You wince, looking upâstraight into Sevikaâs steely gaze. Your breath catches, the air between you charged.
She doesnât say a word, just steps in beside you. The elevator hums upward, the tinny jingle and mechanical whirring filling the silence. You risk a glance at herâsheâs staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes shadowed. You look away, heart hammering.
The elevator shudders to a stop. Sevika slips out, brushing past you and Matt. Her stride is purposeful, and her presence leaves a chill in her wake.
A cackle leaves his lips, snapping you back to the present moment. âDamn, Sevika, you ainât got no sleep last night, eh?â His tone is crude, the words hanging in the air like smoke.
He turns his attention to you, lips curling in a smirk. âJesus, little miss. You okay? You look like youâve seen a ghost.â
âW-whatâŚ?â you stammer, eyes fixed on the door Sevika just disappeared through.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he snatches a cup from your tray.âDamn woman, canât handle yer liquor.â He steps into the elevator, leaving you in the hallway, the scent of burnt coffee and cologne lingering.
You move on autopilot, feet carrying you to the office. The familiar clatter of typewriters and the low drone of voices fill your ears, the normalcy of it all jarring against the chaos inside your head.
Your gaze finds Sevika instantly. She looks⌠different. Her hair, usually pulled back with military precision, hangs loose around her face. Dark circles bruise the skin beneath her eyes, her posture tense, almost harrowing. Sheâs the picture of exhaustion, of something unraveling.
Though your head snaps in the opposite direction, the second her eyes meet yours, your heart rate increases. You can almost feel her gaze piercing through you like a blade.
âGet Outâ
Sevikas previous words linger in the air, sending a biting chill down your spine.Â
She was usually so meticulously eloquent. Every word uttered seemed to be carefully thought out, practised, and planned. To see that crumbling down within the blink of an eye was beyond disconcerting.Â
You force your mind to redirect, focusing on the mundane. Allowing the soft hiss from the coffee machine, measured typing of keys, and hum of fluorescent lights to steady your racing heart. Anything to drown out the memory gnawing at the edges of your mind.Â
Last night had to have been a trick, too much alcohol, not enough sleep. People dont changeâŚnot like that. Not Sevika.
You catch yourself glancing at her once again, searching for any sign of the monster you thought you saw last night. But she just looks tired. Human. Vulnerable, even.
Maybe you imagined it, maybe you saw something that wasn't there. It had to be a hallucination, a nightmare. It had to be.
Then you remember the way her voice cut through the air, sharp and cutting. The glint in her eyes-wild, ravenous. No. Thatâs impossible. Thereâs no such thing asâŚ
You shake your head, pressing a clammy palm to your forehead, trying to force the memory away.Â
Get it together. You think as you throw yourself into work, determined to free your brain from the tormenting recollection of the night prior.
The flashing green numbers from the Quotron terminal begin to jumble on the screen, only worsening your headache. You decide to take a break, heading to the break room.
You almost stop in your tracks when you see Sevikaâs figure looming over the counter, her head hung low. A soft gulp breaks the silence, her head snapping up to you, eyes softening ever so slightly.
"Sev..." you start, voice hesitant, unsure how to put your thoughts into words.
She sighs, turning to lean against the counter, crossing her arms. "Doll, I-"
Stomping footsteps echo from behind you. Sevikaâs gaze diverts to Chris, who looks pale and frantic.
"Sevikaâfuckâeveryoneâs selling..." His tone is panicked, voice cracking.
Sevika curses under her breath. "Fuckinâ marketâs crashing," she mutters, her focus darting between you and Chris.
Your eyes widen, apprehension setting in. "..What do we do?" you ask, voice small.
Chris is already wringing his hands, glancing at the clock. "Clients are calling-some are demanding we sell everything; others are freaking out about margin calls-"
Sevikaâs response is eerily calm, her tone shifting into something practiced and commanding, like sheâs done this a hundred times. "Chris, you know the drill. No panic selling. Remind clients of their long-term plans. If they have cash, look for bargainsâselectively. The worst thing we can do is dump everything at the bottom."
He nods, bolting back to his desk. The office buzz has shiftedâphones ring off the hook, voices are raised, and the air is thick with anxiety. Coworkers cluster in tense knots, faces drawn, eyes glued to tumbling numbers on their screens.
Sevikaâs eyes meet yours again, her composure returning even as exhaustion shadows her face.Â
"Remember what we discussed about market crashes, doll. Stay calm, donât let anyone deviate from their financial plan. The market always reboundsâmaybe not tomorrow, but it will. Trust me."
You nod, letting her words anchor you as you settle in at your desk. The calls are relentless, clients desperate for reassurance, some on the verge of panic. You repeat Sevikaâs advice: stay on course, donât make decisions out of fear, focus on the long-term. The chaos inside your head mirrors the chaos outside, but you cling to the routine, to Sevikaâs steadiness.
Even so, you notice Sevika snapping at a junior analyst, her hands moving so fast they blur, her nerves frayed beneath the surface calm.
The atmosphere grows increasingly distressing as the day wears on. Shouts fill the bustling office, and the clacking of keyboards becomes frenzied. The flashy green numbers change so quickly that you can barely read them.
You struggle to push away your own panic as percentage drops reach double digits, your hand moving on autopilot as it reaches to dial a client.
This call is like the othersâ the client stammers out various concerns about his portfolio, his voice rising in frustration as you exhaust his options.
The man seethes, hurling insults into the mouthpiece before a rough click echoes through the phone. You wince, the pain behind your eyes seeming to spread through every corner of your body. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you set your phone down and run a hand through your hair.
The chaos in the office is relentless. Phones ringing, numbers tumbling, voices raised in panic. You glance up, eyes searching for Sevika. Sheâs in the center of the storm, sleeves rolled up, barking orders with a clipped authority.
You approach her, hesitating at the edge of her desk, clutching a stack of client reports. âSevikaââ
She doesnât spare you a glance. âNot now, doll. Handle your calls. Weâll talk later.â Her tone is brisk, almost cold.
Swallowing your disappointment, you retreat, dialing another anxious client. As usual, the manâs voice blares in your ear, frantic and accusatory., âYou see whatâs happening out there? Iâm losing my shit! Why arenât you selling?â You do your best to reassure him, parroting Sevikaâs advice about riding out the storm, but your words feel thin, artificial. When he hangs upâhardâyou realize your hands are shaking.
Sevikaâs voice slices through the din, booming across the room. âKeep calm! Donât let clients dump everything. Remind them of their long-term plans!â Her gaze sweeps the floor, sharp and commanding, but when it lands on you, it softens for a heartbeat, and she gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod of approval before her attention snaps to a junior analyst hovering at her side.
He stammers something about investment calls, clutching a fistful of slips, and Sevikaâs patience cracks. âFigure it out and get the hell out of my face,â she snarls, voice like a whip. Almost instantly, she reaches up to brush sweat from her brow, her shoulders slumping, exhaustion plain in the way she leans against her desk. The analyst scurries away, eager to escape the heat of her glare.
Chris paces behind you, letting out a huff at the sight in front of him. âNever seen Sevika this rattled. Sheâs usually ice.â
You survey her expression, heartstrings clenching at the dreary look on her face. Sheâs visibly lost in thought, eyes distant as she stares at the wall.
Last night must have affected her, you think, lips down, turning into a small frown.
Her eyes meet yours, expression hardening immediately as she notices the stares from you and Chris. Causing you to avert your eyes down to your trembling hands.
Waiting for your nerves to steady, the next caller lights up your phone. Youâre about to answer when you feel a cool hand brush against your blouse.
Sevikaâs voice, lower now, cuts through the chaos. âDoll, take a breath. Youâre no good to anyone if you crack up.â Itâs barely more than a murmur, meant for you alone, and for a moment, the noise fades.
You nod, swallowing hard as you force yourself to focus. Another client, another round of panic. She gives your waist a comforting squeeze before pulling away, her touch lingering longer than necessary.
Hours pass and the final bell rings through the cavernous trading floor, cutting sharply through the lingering noise. Phones went silent and the frantic buzz of voices faded into a low murmur. The glowing green on the Quotron terminals slowed their frantic dance, setting into a steady, muted glow.
You let out a long breath, feeling the tight knot in your shoulders loosen just a bit. Around you, traders rubbed their tired eyes and stretched still limbs, exchanging exhausted glances. The air, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and sweat, felt less oppressive, more resigned.
Sevika stood near the window, her silhouette framed by the fading dusk. Her tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, but her posture remained rigid, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the city below.
You approached cautiously, unsure if she wanted company. âWe made it through,â you said quietly.
She didnât turn immediately, then finally glanced your way with a brief, almost dismissive nod. âBarely,â she replied, voice clipped. Then, softer, almost reluctant: âNot pretty, but itâs over.â
You swallowed, sensing the wall sheâd put up. âIt felt endless today.â
She shrugged, eyes flickering away. âMarkets donât care about how we feel. They just keep moving.â Then, catching your gaze, she added, âYou held up better than I expected.â
A flicker of warmth, quickly masked by her usual guarded expression.
âI triedâŚâ You reply, trying to gauge her expression.
Sevika exhales, the tension in the air almost palpable.
âYou did good today, doll. Iâm⌠sorry I was so short with you,â she says quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor.
You nod, voice hesitant. âItâs alright, Sev⌠I justâŚâ Your words falter as you glance around at the other traders gathering their things, the day winding down. ââŚCan we talk about last night?â The question barely escapes your lips, little more than a whisper.
Her jaw tightens, shoulders stiffening. âDoll-â Her tone is sharper than you expect, as if sheâs chastising you for even mentioning it.
You cut in, desperate. âPleaseâŚâ
She sighs again, resignation flickering in her eyes. âGo grab your stuff. Iâll drive you home.â
Relief and apprehension twist together in your chest as you pack up, hands trembling. Sheâs willing to talk, but the uncertainty gnaws at you.
The walk to her car is thick with silence, awkward and strained-so unlike the easy camaraderie youâre used to. The drive is worse; Sevika keeps her eyes on the road, her posture rigid, tension radiating off her in waves. You stare out the window, heart pounding, wishing you could read her mind.
When she finally parks, you both head upstairs in silence. She trails behind you, hands shoved deep in her pockets, every step heavy with unspoken words.
You unlock your apartment, flicking on the lights. Itâs fine. Everythingâs fine. Sheâs just here to talk, you tell yourself, but the attempted mantra does little to slow your racing pulse.
Sevika steps inside, glancing around as if sheâs never been here before. Her presence feels strange, unfamiliar. You hate it.
âWant a drinkâŚ?â you offer, fidgeting with your hands.
She looks at you, unreadable, eyes searching your face for something you canât name.
âSure.â
âPlease, sit down.â You gesture stiffly toward the couch, wincing at how formal the words sound as they fall from your lips.
She sits, sinking into the cushions, her posture guarded.
You turn toward the kitchen, but freeze. Down the hall, your reflection stares back at you from the mirrorâalone. Sevika should be visible in the glass, shouldnât she? You glance back at her, still seated, close enough to be seen. Your stomach knots.
No, youâre imagining things. Thatâs impossible. Sevika isnât a⌠No. You wonât let your mind go there.
You move to the kitchen, feeling detached, as if youâre watching yourself from a distance. Your eyes flick to Sevika, half-expecting her to vanish, half-afraid sheâll move.
Your hand shakes as you pour her a glass of scotchâher favorite. Nearly spilling the malt liquid as you cross the room; nerves fraying.
You sit beside her, careful to leave a considerable amount of space. Her gaze lingers, intense, as if she can sense every tremor of your anxiety.
âRelax, doll.â Her voice is gentler now, a command softened by concern. She takes a sip, sets the glass down. You mimic her, letting the whiskey burn some of the fear away.
She leans back, eyelidâs hooded, the air between you thick with anticipation. Sheâs waitingâfor you to bring it up, to ask.
You fold your hands in your lap, voice barely steady. âWhat happened last night, Sev?â
Sevikaâs eyes flicker away, her jaw working as she searches for words. For a moment, you think she might shut down again, but then she sighs, running a hand through her hair.
âItâs⌠complicated,â she says, voice low, almost gravelly. âWhat you saw-â She stops, glancing at you, as if gauging how much you already know, or how much you can handle.
You grip your glass tighter, knuckles whitening. âI need to know, Sev. I need to hear it from you. I canât keep pretending nothing happened.â
She leans forward, elbows on her knees, head bowed. The Sevika you knowâthe unshakable, commanding presence seems smaller now, weighed down by something you canât name.
âI never wanted you to get dragged into this,â she murmurs, barely audible. âYou werenât supposed to see. Any of it.â
You swallow, heart thudding in your chest. âBut I did. And I canât unsee it.â
Her gaze snaps to yours, sharp and searching, as if sheâs looking for any sign of fear or revulsion. âYouâre scared of me.â Itâs not a question.
You hesitate, then nod, honesty trembling in your voice. âA little. But Iâm more scared of not knowing the truth.â
She lets out a shaky breath, her posture softening. âYou always were stubborn,â she says, a ghost of a smile flickering across her lips before fading.
You manage a weak laugh, the tension in the room thick as fog.
Sevikaâs eyes darken, her voice dropping to a whisper. âWhat I am⌠itâs not something I chose. Itâs not something Iâm proud of. But Iâve kept it hidden for a reason. For your safety. For mine.â
You lean in, searching her face for any trace of the monster you glimpsedâor thought you glimpsed-the night before. All you see is exhaustion, regret, and something achingly human.
âAre you going to hurt me?â you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
She shakes her head, fierce and immediate. âNever. Iâd sooner hurt myself.â
A heavy silence settles between you, broken only by the distant city sounds filtering through the window.
You look down at your hands, then back at her. âSo⌠what now?â
Sevika leans back, her expression unreadable. âThatâs up to you, doll. You want answers, Iâll give them. But once you know, thereâs no going back.â
You nod, resolve settling in your chest. âTell me. I want to understand.â
For the first time all night, Sevika looks almost relieved. She picks up her glass, takes a long sip.
The silence between you stretches, taut and uneasy. Sevikaâs gaze drifts to the window, the city lights glinting in her eyes. She doesnât speak right away; when she does, her voice is barely above a whisper.
âThere are things about me I canât explainânot really,â she begins, words measured, careful. âThings Iâve carried for a long time. Itâs not something youâd read about in a paper, or see in a movie. Itâs⌠older than that. Heavier.â
You wait, pulse thrumming in your ears. âSevika, I sawââ She cuts you off, a flash of something like fear in her eyes. âYou saw more than you were meant to. Iâm sorry for that.â She rubs her hands together, restless. âI try to keep it contained. Most days, I manage.â
You swallow, the air thick with questions. âContained? What do you mean?â
She smiles, but it's a brittle mask that doesnât quite fit. âLetâs just say I have⌠needs. Hungers. Not the kind you can fix with ordinary food or drink.â Her gaze flicks to you, searching, almost pleading for you to understand without asking more.
Your mind races, piecing together memoriesâthe missing reflection, the way she moved in the dark, the chill in the air. âYouâre a-â She shakes her head, almost violently. âDonât say it. Names have weight. Iâm still me, doll. Iâm still the person you know. Just⌠with shadows you havenât seen before.â
You notice her hands clenching, the tension in her jaw. Sheâs holding something back, something sharp and dangerous.
âAre you safe?â you ask, voice trembling.
Her answer is slow, deliberate. âIâm careful. I have to be. I donât want to hurt anyoneânot you, especially.â She looks away, voice thinning. âThatâs why I keep my distance. Why I donât let people get close.â
A silence settles, heavy with all the things she isnât saying. You realize sheâs given you just enough to keep you close, but not enough to set you free from wondering.
She finally meets your eyes, haunted and resolute. âI canât give you more than that. Not tonight.â
You frown, desperate for answers, but before you can form another question, she cuts you off.
âThatâs enough, doll.â Her voice is gentle, but thereâs a finality to it that makes your chest tighten.
âSev, pleaseâŚâ You reach for her hand, fingers curling around hers, clinging to the connection. âDonât shut me out. I know what I saw-â
âI know you know,â she murmurs, her tone softening for a heartbeat. She slips her hand from yours and stands up, the distance between you suddenly vast.
Panic claws at your insides. Sheâs going to leave. You can feel itâa cold certainty. Something inside you begs you not to let her go.
âHow do you feed?â The words tumble out, raw and intrusive, slicing through the heavy air. Sevika freezes, already halfway to the door. She turns, her expression unreadable, eyes shadowed.
She doesnât speak at first, doesnât move. The silence throbs.
ââŚHowâ?â
âSheepâs blood,â she says at last, voice strained. âI⌠I use ferrous sulfate to mimic the taste ofâŚâ She trails off, but you know what she means. The truth hangs between you, sharp and metallic.
You nod, heart pounding. âIs it⌠hard to get?â
A bitter glint flickers across her lips. âYeah. It is. But I can go months without it if I have to. Last night, I just⌠I hadnât fed in a while.â Her words are brittle, shame threaded through every syllable.
You sit with this, the silence prickling your skin. Then, before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought thatâs been lurking in the back of your mind.
âWhy donât you just⌠feed on me? If itâs easier.â
The room seems to contract, the air thickening until itâs hard to breathe. Sevika stands utterly still, her eyes darkening, something dangerous flickering in their depths.
âNo.â Her voice is low, almost a growl.
âButââ
âNo.â She takes a step closer, her presence suddenly overwhelming. âYou have no idea what youâre offering. You canât possibly understand what that would mean.â Her words vibrate with something wild, barely leashed.
You swallow, pulse racing, the reality of what youâve suggested settling over you like a cloak. Sevikaâs gaze is fierce, protective, and for the first time, you glimpse the full weight of what sheâs been holding backânot just hunger, but fear. Fear for you.
You barely have time to draw a breath before Sevika is on you, her strength startling, pinning you against the arm of the couch. The world narrows to the press of her body and the wild, ravenous look in her eyesâa hunger that both terrifies and mesmerizes you.
Instinct screams at you to shrink away, but instead, you tilt your head, fingers trembling as you sweep your hair aside, baring your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding so hard you think it might burst.
You feel her breath hitch, a low, guttural sound escaping her. She leans in, her lips ghosting over your skin, and you shudder as her tongue flicks out, tracing a slow, deliberate line from your collarbone up the column of your neck. The contact is electric, sending a jolt through your nerves.
She sighsâa sound thatâs almost a growl, inhuman, primal. Her mouth finds your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse, her grip tightening at your waist. Her other hand is gentle, brushing your hair further aside, her touch almost reverent.
âI apologize for any⌠discomfort,â she murmurs, voice rough, vibrating against your skin. She presses one last kiss to your throat, and then you feel the sharp, decisive puncture as her fangs sink in.
A strangled gasp tears from your lips. Painâsharp and blindingâblooms through you. But then the sensation shifts, ache melting into something strange and exquisite; a rush of euphoria that leaves you dizzy, weightless. Every nerve alight, every sense sharpened, the world dissolving into the heat of her mouth and the pounding of your heart.
You clutch at her shoulders, breath coming out in short, desperate bursts as she feeds. The room spins, your awareness narrowing to the rhythm of her drinking and the press of her body. The impossible intimacy of the moment terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly consuming.
When Sevika finally pulls away, youâre left gasping, your head spinning with a dizzying cocktail of exhaustion and something dangerously close to bliss. The world feels muffled, as if youâre underwater. Sevikaâs face hovers above yours. Her lips stained, eyes wild and haunted.
Her chest rising and falling in ragged waves. For a moment, neither of you moves. Her hand lingers at your waist, steadying you, but her gaze is distant, as if sheâs already retreating somewhere unreachable.
You reach up, fingertips brushing her cheek, searching for reassurance, for some sign that you havenât just crossed an invisible, irreversible line. But Sevika flinches away, guilt and shame flickering across her features. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes squeezed shut.
âI shouldnât haveâŚâ she whispers, voice raw. âI lost control. Iâm sorry, doll. Iâm so damn sorry.â
You try to speak, but your tongue feels thick, your body heavy and boneless. Thereâs a strange warmth blooming in your chest, a sense of connection thatâs both comforting and terrifying. You can still feel the echo of her hunger inside you, the memory of her mouth at your throat.
âItâs okay,â you manage, though youâre not sure if you believe it. âI offered. I wanted to help.â
She shakes her head, jaw clenched. âYou donât understand. Itâs not supposed to be like this. Iâm not supposed to wantââ She cuts herself off, standing abruptly. The loss of her touch is jarring, cold.
You watch her pace the room, running a trembling hand through her hair. The apartment feels cavernous, the silence between you thick and suffocating.
âAre you⌠are you alright?â you ask, voice small.
She stops, back to you. âIâll be fine. You need to rest. Drink some water. If you feel dizzy, lie down.â Her tone is clipped, reverting to the Sevika you know from the office. Distant, controlled, untouchable.
You nod, but a lump forms in your throat. You want to reach for her, to bridge the gulf thatâs opened between you, but your limbs are leaden, your mind foggy. You wonder if youâll ever be able to look at her the same way againâif sheâll let you.
Sevika lingers in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall light. For a moment, you think she might say something more, offer comfort or explanation. But she just stands there, shadowed and uncertain.
âIâll check on you tomorrow,â she says at last, voice barely audible. Then she slips out, the door clicking shut behind her.
Youâre left alone in the quiet, the taste of copper still lingering on your tongue, your pulse fluttering like a trapped bird. The night presses in, thick with questions and fear and something you dare not name.
You close your eyes, replaying every moment, every touch, every word. The world feels irrevocably changed, the boundaries between fear and desire, trust and danger, blurred beyond recognition.
You wonder if youâve saved Sevika from her hunger, or if youâve only fed something far more complicated and dangerous.
taglist: @half-of-a-gay @sapphiccup @iamaboringrattat @spinback-kiva @theoreticalfreak @moodient @diouna @helaenabugmom @womenlover360 @sumisamente @thatsmadiculous @madzorwhatever @vkumi @boom58 @h2pinky @glittzygorilla @koralinebox @kay-khronicals @belldonic @rosebg @thehoneybeestings @sunflowerwinds @dyketoast @dvrkhcld @blasphemous-riot comment to be added to taglist for the final part :)
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https://x.com/jessica11634119/status/1900269020349423956?s=46
She had NO RIGHT looking that good!!! Anyway rock, paper DEFINITELY scissorđĽ´âď¸đĽľ
ââŽâ.ËKarlach ââŽâ.Ë:
Drabbles:
â˘Karlach x f!reader x Mintharaâ˘
⢠Jealous?â˘
â˘Karlach x Werewolf! gf â˘
â˘Compromising position â˘
â˘Karlach x Bard!readerâ˘
⢠Reacting to You Having a Child â˘
â˘Shapeshifter !â˘
â˘Soft Momentsâ˘
â˘Surprise kiss!â˘
â˘No more revivify for youâ˘
â˘Karlach x Aasimar!readerâ˘
â˘Jealousy, Jealousy â˘
â˘Beachâ˘
â˘Sibling Reunion â˘
â˘All you feel is RAGEâ˘
â˘Kindapped by Orinâ˘
â˘Ass handed to youâ˘
â˘Ladies x transfem!readerâ˘
â˘Silly Sacrifice â˘
â˘You Spin Me Right Roundâ˘
â˘Hell hath no fury like an Aasimar scornedâ˘
â˘Don't threaten the pregnant ladyâ˘
â˘Sadness creeps inâ˘
â˘Scratch me upâ˘
â˘Squirt NSFWâ˘
â˘Bigger brood than expectedâ˘
â˘Broken Oathâ˘
â˘Fireballâ˘
â˘Fireball pt 2â˘
â˘Fall for you (Aasimar!reader)â˘
â˘Here for youâ˘
â˘As an auntie/motherâ˘
â˘Got you!â˘
â˘Inexperiencedâ˘
â˘Overstimulation NSFWâ˘
â˘Deadly Duoâ˘
â˘Opened my Heartâ˘
â˘General fluffâ˘
â˘All too muchâ˘
â˘The Orin Dilemmaâ˘
â˘Not on my watchâ˘
â˘Gentle Giantâ˘
â˘Not your tentâ˘
â˘Fainting â˘
â˘Calming Kissesâ˘
â˘Druid tattoosâ˘
â˘Your blood on my handsâ˘
â˘My Oathâ˘
â˘Can't walk after a night of passionâ˘
â˘Lost hornâ˘
â˘What she did to youâ˘
â˘Aasimar tav Drabbleâ˘
â˘Family Rejectionâ˘
â˘Karlach x plus!reader| Drive me wildâ˘
â˘Touching Foreheadsâ˘
â˘Tiny Tavâ˘
â˘Menzoberranzenâ˘
â˘Revivedâ˘
â˘Lean on meâ˘
â˘Tune upsâ˘
â˘Ersatz eyeâ˘
â˘I'm Mother?â˘
â˘Opened mindâ˘
â˘Turn onsâ˘
â˘Never again, babe!â˘
â˘What a voiceâ˘
â˘I went too farâ˘
â˘Adopted by The In-laws â˘
â˘Welcome Karlach (Aasimar Tav)â˘
â˘Your Turn, Babeâ˘
â˘Hand in Handâ˘
â˘Jealous of a plushieâ˘
â˘A Poetic Attemptâ˘
â˘Big Tatasâ˘
â˘The Greatest Beastâ˘
â˘Favourite Beastâ˘
â˘Dhampiric Revelationsâ˘
â˘Proposalâ˘
â˘Tinkering till I Bleedâ˘
â˘Thinking the BG3 Ladies are Cheating on Youâ˘
â˘Family Life (Stepchild series)â˘
â˘Kaleidoscope Eyesâ˘
â˘Druidic Tendencies â˘
â˘Massageâ˘
â˘Astral-Touched Tadpoleâ˘
â˘Positive Reinforcement (Durge)â˘
â˘Fierce Protectorâ˘
â˘Halloweenâ˘
â˘The World Is Oursâ˘
â˘The Life We Buildâ˘
.đĽ Ý ËBG3 Ships MasterlistđĽ Ý Ë
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, sheâs always so needy for you, and you love how addicted your own best friend has become to your touchâto the way your hands and mouth and cock can reduce the tough, headstrong woman to a desperate, mewling mess. itâs a heady feeling, knowing that vi can't get enough of you.
she texts you at odd hours, short and directâyou free?âas if youâd ever say no. and when you show up at her place, sheâs already waiting by the door like an overeager puppy, hair messy, lips red and parted, pupils wide as if sheâs been thinking about this all dayâand you know she has been. sheâs always desperate for cock, but itâs not her fault; with how well you take care of her sweet hole, of course sheâs become dependent on you for her pleasure.
she needs you to be rough with her, to be mean, and youâre 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, youâre completely aware that vi gets off on the roughness, the dominance, the sheer ownership in your touch, and youâre more than happy to give it to herâto use her strong body for your own twisted pleasure.
tonight, sheâs laying on her stomach, atop her bedsheets, while you ride her ass. in this position, her pussy is so much tighter than usual, itâs 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 youâre filling her just the way she needs, and sheâs clawing against her bedsheets like a misbehaving cat.
âyou love it whenâmmf, i fuck you like a bitch?â you murmur against her ear, and she gasps as if sheâs been burned, like your words have struck a cord deep inside her.
she doesnât answer right away, too caught up in the way youâre using her little pussy for your own entertainment, her breath coming out in sharp, uneven burstsâbut eventually, she blubbers, âyes, yes, i love it so muchâmghff!â
âwhat are you, then?â 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.
âa bitchâaghh! iâm your bitch!â vi sobs, and sheâs trying to fuck back against your strapâtrying to feel you as deep inside her gummy, pink walls as she possibly canâbut you wonât 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 itâs hypnotizing. the lewd sound of skin smacking against skin echoes throughout her obsolete bedroom, mingling with the obscene wet noise of viâs creamy pussy being fucked into submission.
you press kisses to her shoulder blades, licking over her tattoos, before groaning, âyeahhh, thatâs right, fuckâahh, guess youâre not so dumb after all.â
vi whines louder than before, as if sheâs 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. viâs arousal is dripping down her thighs now, the dirty sound of her juices squelching plays in your ears like music. youâre using her as if sheâs a cocksleeve, as if sheâs nothing more to you than a toy for you to fuck, and itâs making her eyes cross with irrevocable pleasure.
you continue your relentless pace, hips grinding forward with a brutal intensity that rocks viâs 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 viâs tight heat with even more animalistic fervor, determined to make her come undone until she canât even speak, until static fills her ears and her brain melts out of her head.
âunghhâ! youâre fucking me, youâre fucking me,â vi slurs mindlessly. she sounds like a desperate whore thatâs been fucked stupid. you know sheâs 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. sheâs 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 squealsâas you expected her toâand her pale skin blossoms red like roses in the spring.
she tries to get up onto her knees, but youâre 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 canât run from the pleasure, she canât 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 viâs rear perhaps faster than the speed of light, and itâs exhausting, it takes immense strength and determinationâbut youâre determined to make vi come so hard she cries.
you spit onto your fingers and then slip your hand underneath viâs 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 otherâand 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 viâs clit, until sheâs flinching away from your touch and sobbing.Â
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 viâs 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 friendâs 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 keep seeing Sevika with glasses
So here this
⢠Denial Is a River in Zaun, Sevika is 1000% convinced her eyes are fine. âI donât need glasses, youâre just blurry,â she says while squinting directly at your forehead instead of your eyes.
⢠Hot Girl Nearsightedness, She tries to play it off like sheâs intimidating when sheâs really just trying to figure out if sheâs glaring at Silco or a lamp. You once caught her threatening a coat rack.
⢠You teasingly call her âGranny Vikaâ every time she squints or holds something at armâs length. She grumbles and grabs your ass in retaliation. âStill strong enough to put you over my knee, sweetheart.â
⢠She Hates the Exam, You finally drag her to an eye exam. She tries to flirt her way out of it. until you sit in her lap and whisper, âIf you behave, Iâll let you keep them on while you wreck me later.â
⢠First Time With Glasses, She puts them on and blinks a few times. âShit⌠is that what you look like?â now she wonât stop staring at you like youâre the Mona Lisa with thighs.
⢠She only wears them around the house, mostly shirtless, reading a book while lounging on the couch. âMaâam⌠you canât just look like someoneâs sexy literature professor and expect me to focus.â You tell her. She adjusts glasses slowly âThen donât.â
⢠You once walked in on her wearing her glasses, hair messy, tank top half-riding up, reading and you just melted.
⢠Glasses Stay On, First time you kissed her while she was wearing them, you fogged them up so bad she had to take them off. Now she keeps lens wipes by the bed. She calls it âbattle prep.â
⢠Ultimate Weakness, You grab her glasses and wear nothing else. She stops whatever sheâs doingâmid-sentence, mid-sip, mid-growlâand just stares. ââŚGoddamn. Come here. I canât even be mad.â
Hi! Could I request something? I just saw you accept new request again! I was thinking of yearning. Them yearning for oblivious tav.
I just love a good old yearning prompt
yesssssss the yearning the pining the dramaaa
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Karlach:
Karlach was trying her best to keep it together. As she sat by the campfire, her eyes kept drifting toward you, her massive frame leaning slightly forward as if she could somehow close the gap between you just by willing it. You were tending to a few weapons youâd scavenged earlier in the day, completely oblivious to the way her molten eyes lingered on you, the way her hands fidgeted with a piece of stray leather to distract herself from the ache in her chest.
Wyll, sitting nearby with a mischievous grin, had noticed. Of course, he had noticed. The Blade of Frontiers had a knack for picking up on unspoken emotions, and Karlach was as subtle as a roaring forge.
âYou know,â Wyll began, his voice low and teasing as he leaned toward Karlach, âif you keep staring at them like that, youâre liable to set the poor one on fire.â
Karlach froze, her cheeks flushing as embers flickered to life along her horns.
âWhat?â she whispered sharply, her voice cracking. âI wasnât staring! I was justââ
âYearning?â Wyll supplied with a grin, leaning back casually.
âI donât yearn,â Karlach snapped, though her voice lacked conviction.
âOh, come now,â Wyll said, his tone smug. âThe sighing, the pining, the tragic glances when heâs not lookingâitâs downright poetic.â He tapped his chin theatrically. âItâs almost enough to compose a ballad.â
Karlach shot him a glare, her flames flaring slightly around her shoulders. âWyll, I swear, if you donât shut itââ
But it was too late. Her embarrassment sent her infernal engine into overdrive, and the flames on her body surged. The sudden flare caught your attention, and you glanced up from your work.
âKarlach?â you called out, your voice filled with concern as you stood and crossed the campfire toward her. âAre you okay?â
The sheer earnestness in your tone made her heart lurch painfully in her chest. She quickly tried to wave you off, her hands fanning at her shoulders as if she could dampen the flames.
âItâs nothing! Justâhot, you know?â she stammered.
âWell, yeah, youâre always hot,â you said, grabbing a nearby waterskin. âBut this seems worse than usual.â
Karlach froze, her eyes going wide at your words. Did youâdid you just call her hot? Surely, you didnât mean it like that, right?
âHere, let me help,â you said, uncapping the waterskin.
âNo, no, really, Iâm fineââ
Too late. You doused her with a splash of water, and instead of calming her flames, it only made things worse. The steam hissed around her, mingling with her rising panic, and her flames flared even brighter.
âGods, Iâm sorry!â you exclaimed, looking horrified. âDid that make it worse?â
Karlach buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly. âNo, no, itâs fine, justâdonât worry about it.â
Wyll, watching the scene unfold, laughed openly now. âYouâre really outdoing yourself, Karlach. I think the entire camp will see those flames soon.â
You shot Wyll a confused look. âWhatâs he talking about?â
Karlach peeked through her fingers, her flames dimming slightly as her mortification reached its peak.
âNothing! Heâs just⌠being a prat,â she said quickly, glaring at Wyll, who only grinned wider.
âIâd call it encouragement,â Wyll said lightly. âAfter all, someone here needs to take a hint.â
You blinked at him, clearly puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Karlach stood abruptly, the ground under her feet crunching as her weight shifted.
âIâm gonna, uh, go check onâanything else,â she muttered, stomping off toward the edge of camp.
You watched her go, bewildered, before turning back to Wyll. âDid I do something wrong?â
Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. âNot wrong, no. Just oblivious. Donât worryâyouâll figure it out eventually. Maybe.â
You frowned, glancing back toward where Karlach had disappeared into the shadows, her flames still faintly flickering in the distance. You didnât know what youâd missed, but something about the way sheâd looked at you before she left lingered in your mind, warm and unexplained.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Minthara:
The campfire crackled gently, casting a warm glow across the assembled group. You sat on a log, sharpening your blade, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents running through the evening.
Minthara, sitting a few paces away, had her sharp red eyes trained on you, a faint furrow in her brow. Her usual composed demeanor was slightly off tonightâher movements a touch too deliberate, her glances toward you lingering just a second too long.
Shadowheart, one of the resident camp gossips, noticed. She always did.
âWhy donât you just say something, Minthara?â Shadowheart drawled lazily, her lips curling into a smirk as she toyed with a loose strand of her hair. âItâs not as though subtlety is your strong suit. Or theirs, for that matter.â
Mintharaâs sharp gaze snapped toward her, irritation flashing across her face.
âI do not need your advice, cleric,â she said coolly.
âOh, I think you do,â Shadowheart said, undeterred. âBecause whatever it is youâve been doing clearly isnât working. They havenât even noticed.â She tilted her head toward you, who were now carefully oiling your weapon, oblivious to the tension building around you.
Mintharaâs grip on her dagger tightened, her knuckles turning white. âThey have other matters to attend to. The fault lies not with my approach but their⌠distraction.â
Shadowheart chuckled. âDistraction? Theyâre so dense they probably think the moonrise is flirting with them. Youâll have to carve it into the side of their tent before they catch on.â
That was the last straw. Minthara stood abruptly, her dark cloak billowing behind her as she marched across the campsite toward you.
âMinthara?â you said, startled as her shadow fell over you.
Before you could say another word, she grabbed you by the front of your tunic and pulled you to your feet with a surprising amount of force. Her crimson eyes burned with frustration and something else you couldnât quite place.
âYou,â she snapped, her voice ringing out across the camp, âare impossibly blind.â
âW-what?â you stammered, your mind racing to figure out what youâd done wrong this time.
âI have fought by your side,â she began, her voice rising. âI have trusted you, protected you, respected you. I have given you every sign imaginable, and yet you remain oblivious to the fact that Iââ She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath, as if even saying the words aloud were a battle she needed to win. âThat I desire you, you fool!â
The camp went silent. Even the fire seemed to crackle a little softer as everyone turned to stare.
You blinked, utterly dumbfounded. âYou⌠you desire me?â
Minthara groaned, her head tipping back in exasperation before she fixed you with an incredulous look. âYes! Must I spell it out further? Or perhaps I should inscribe it on your blade since that seems to be where your attention is always focused!â
Shadowheart, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely suppressed laughter, finally burst out into an uncontrollable giggle.
âOh, gods, this is better than I couldâve hoped,â she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Minthara turned her glare on her, her lips curling in irritation. âIf you say one more word, Shadowheart, I willââ
âOkay, okay,â you interrupted, holding up your hands. âEveryone calm down.â You turned back to Minthara, your voice softening. âIâm sorry if I missed the signs, Minthara. I honestly didnât realize.â
Her anger seemed to waver, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability.
âHow could you not?â she asked, almost to herself. You hesitated, then placed a tentative hand on hers, still gripping your tunic.
âBecause Iâm an idiot,â you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. âBut Iâm an idiot whoâs honored and⌠maybe a little thrilled by what you just said.â
For the first time that evening, Minthara seemed at a loss for words. Her lips parted slightly, her sharp demeanor softening as she searched your face.
âThrilled, you say?â she murmured, the barest hint of a smirk returning.
âThrilled,â you confirmed, your cheeks warming under her intense gaze.
The tension in the air shifted, no longer charged with frustration but with something warmer, something promising. Minthara released your tunic, smoothing it out almost absently. âThen perhaps next time, you wonât require such⌠dramatic measures to understand me.â
Shadowheart made a kissy noise behind you, and you shot her a glare over your shoulder. Minthara, however, ignored her entirely, her focus solely on you.
âNow,â she said, her voice back to its usual measured tone. âShall we continue this conversation somewhere with fewer interruptions?â
You nodded, feeling a grin spread across your face. âLead the way.â
As you walked off together, Shadowheartâs laughter echoed behind you, but you couldnât bring yourself to care. For once, the fog of obliviousness had lifted, and you were exactly where you wanted to beâat Mintharaâs side.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Lae'zel:
Laeâzel had always been a force of natureâher sharp tongue, battle-hardened demeanor, and unyielding confidence left no room for doubt. And thatâs exactly how she preferred it. To anyone observing her, she was the epitome of githyanki discipline and control. But deep down, behind the steel exterior and fiery eyes, she was at war with herself.
She had a massive, undeniable crush on you.
It was maddening. Every time you smiled at her or even so much as glanced her way, her heart would raceâa sensation she would have sworn was impossible for her kind. She had tried everything to make her interest known: sparring sessions where she pushed you to your limits (and a bit beyond), blunt declarations of your 'adequacy' in her eyes, and even offers to 'crush your enemies together in glorious combat'. But somehow, none of it seemed to land.
Instead, you remained oblivious, flashing her that infuriatingly kind smile and treating her like a valued ally rather than someone she desperately wanted to claim as her partner.
One day, during a training session, Laeâzelâs frustration reached its peak. She had you pinned beneath her, her blade at your throat, and instead of fear or admiration, you chuckled.
âNice move,â you said, your grin wide. âIâll have to remember that one.â
She grit her teeth and growled, pressing the blade a little closerânot enough to hurt, but enough to make her point.
âYou do not take me seriously!â she snapped.
You raised an eyebrow. âWhat are you talking about? Youâre one of the most serious people I know.â
âNot in battle, fool!â she snarled, pulling back and stalking away, her blade sheathed with a sharp clang, as you walked bewilderdly back to your tent.
From a short distance, Halsin, who had been watching the training with an amused glint in his eye, stepped forward to intercept Laeâzel. She stopped abruptly, glaring at the druid as if daring him to speak.
âLaeâzel,â Halsin said in his calm, measured tone, âmay I offer you some advice?â
Her eyes narrowed. âYou may offer. I will decide whether it is worth hearing.â
He chuckled, unfazed. âIâve noticed your⌠interest in our leader.â
Her nostrils flared, and she crossed her arms. âAnd what of it?â
âYou are a warrior, and I admire your strength,â Halsin began, âbut perhaps your methods of courtship are⌠misplaced.â
âWhat nonsense is this?â she scoffed. âI have made my intentions clear. I have praised their competence. I have challenged them in combat. What more is required?â
Halsin smiled gently. âPerhaps a softer touch. Words that reveal your feelings without the shield of aggression. A gesture that shows your care rather than your strength.â
Laeâzel looked utterly baffled, as if he had just suggested she surrender to a mind flayer.
âSoftness is weakness,â she spat.
âNot always,â Halsin countered. âSometimes, it takes more strength to be vulnerable than to wield a sword.â
She opened her mouth to retort but found herself at a loss. Instead, she grumbled something unintelligible and stalked off, leaving Halsin shaking his head with a knowing smile.
The next morning, Laeâzel approached you at camp. There was an uncharacteristic stiffness to her posture, as if she were preparing for battle, yet her hands were empty.
âLeader,â she began, her voice clipped but quieter than usual.
You looked up from your map, offering her that same smile that never failed to undo her. âWhatâs up, Laeâzel?â
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. For a moment, she considered abandoning this foolishness and returning to her usual methods. But Halsinâs advice echoed in her mind, and she forced herself to continue.
âI⌠value your presence,â she said, the words sounding foreign and awkward.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. âUh, thanks? I value yours too.â
âNo, you do not understand,â she snapped, then took a deep breath to steady herself. âI⌠value you. Your strength. Your wit. Your⌠idiotic charm.â
Your confusion deepened. âLaeâzel, are you feeling okay?â
She growled in frustration, her hand twitching toward her sword out of habit before she forced it to her side. âDo I need to spell it out for you, fool?â
âApparently,â you said, still clueless but clearly trying to follow.
She stepped closer, her amber eyes burning into yours. âI desire you, leader. As my equal. My partner. My⌠lover.â
The words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw Laeâzel in a new lightânot just as a fierce warrior, but as someone deeply passionate and utterly vulnerable in this moment.
âOh,â you said, the realization dawning on you. âOh.â
Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms defensively. âIf you find this amusing, I willââ
âI donât,â you interrupted, a small smile playing at your lips. âI just didnât thinkâwell, I didnât know.â
âBecause you are blind,â she muttered, though there was no real venom in her tone.
You stepped closer, reaching out tentatively. âLaeâzel, Iâm flattered. Truly. And⌠Iâd like to see where this goes.â
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she looked as though she didnât quite believe you. Then, with a sharp nod, she straightened her back and let a rare, genuine smile grace her lips.
âGood,â she said simply. âNow, let us prepare for the day. We have enemies to slay, and I will not let them distract you from what is ours.â
You couldnât help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. Laeâzel might not have mastered the art of softness, but in her own way, she was perfect.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Shadowheart:
Shadowheart had always been composed, her expression a careful mask of neutrality, but recently, every time she caught sight of you, her calm façade wavered. Her chest tightened, her thoughts scattered, and her usually sharp words became softer, laced with an uncharacteristic warmth. She knew the truth of it: she had fallen for you. Hard.
And yet, despite her every effort to show you her feelings, you remained utterly oblivious.
At breakfast that morning, Shadowheart decided to take another approach. She brushed past you as you prepared the fire, the faint scent of lavender trailing in her wake.
âGood morning,â she said, her voice soft but laced with what she thought was a hint of allure.
You looked up, smiling warmly. âMorning, Shadowheart. Did you sleep well?â
She nodded, sitting beside you with deliberate closeness. âAs well as I could, knowing what awaits us each day. And you?â
âFine, thanks. Just trying to get this fire going,â you replied, your focus returning to the task at hand.
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur. âYouâre very skilled with your hands. Itâs⌠admirable.â
You blinked at her, utterly missing the meaning behind her words. âThanks! I guess all those years of camping have paid off.â
Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but she refused to give up. Throughout the morning, she found small ways to stay near you, brushing her fingers against yours when you handed her something, complimenting you with what she thought was a sultry tone, and even laughing at your jokesâsome of which, she had to admit, were terrible.
Still, you seemed completely unaware.
By midday, Shadowheart was frustrated beyond measure. She found Karlach near the edge of camp, inspecting her weapons, and stormed over.
âKarlach,â she said, her tone clipped but tinged with exasperation.
Karlach looked up, her fiery heart pulsing warmly. âWhatâs up, Shads?â
"Please don't call me that," Shadowheart crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling over. âI donât know what to do. Iâve been dropping hintsâno, practically throwing myself at them, and they just⌠donât notice!â
Karlach blinked, then grinned, clearly enjoying the situation more than she should. âWait, youâre talking aboutâ?â
âYes,â Shadowheart snapped, her cheeks tinged with pink.
Karlach let out a hearty laugh, her flames flickering slightly brighter. âOh, this is rich. You? Pining? I never thought Iâd see the day.â
Shadowheart glared at her. âThis is not amusing. I need advice, not mockery.â
Karlach wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. âAlright, alright. Let me think. So, youâve been⌠what, flirting?â
âIâve tried everything,â Shadowheart admitted, throwing her hands in the air. âCompliments, proximity, even subtle touches. And nothing! They treat me the same as everyone else.â
Karlach hummed, tapping a clawed finger against her chin. âMaybe theyâre just really dense. Or, yâknow, not used to someone as⌠uh, mysterious as you.â
Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. âAnd what do you suggest I do? Write it out in blood on their tent?â
Karlach snorted. âHey, that might actually work. But no, maybe you need to be more direct. Like, âHey, I think youâre cute, letâs share a bedroll tonight.ââ
Shadowheart stared at her, aghast. âI am not saying that.â
âYour loss,â Karlach said with a shrug. âBut seriously, just talk to them. Be honest. I bet theyâd love it.â
Shadowheart sighed, running a hand through her hair. âHonesty. Of course. The one thing Iâve been avoiding.â
âHey, they like you for you,â Karlach said, clapping her on the shoulder. âWell, they would if they had half a brain and knew what was good for them. Go get âem, tiger.â
Later that evening, as you sat by the campfire, Shadowheart approached you with purposeful strides. She was determined to take Karlachâs advice, even if it made her heart pound and her palms sweat.
âCan I join you?â she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
âOf course,â you said, shifting to make room for her.
She hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. âThereâs something I need to tell you.â
You turned to her, your expression curious but kind. âWhat is it?â
Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a shaky breath and looked into the fire.
âI⌠I care about you,â she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, completely misunderstanding. âI care about you too, Shadowheart. Youâre a great friend.â
She groaned inwardly, pinching the bridge of her nose. âNo, I mean I care about you in a⌠different way.â
Realization dawned on your face, your eyes widening. âOh.â
âOh?â she echoed, feeling both vulnerable and absurdly exposed.
âI didnâtâShadowheart, I had no idea,â you said, your voice filled with genuine surprise and warmth.
âI noticed,â she muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
You reached out, gently placing a hand on hers. âIâm sorry if Iâve been clueless. I guess I just⌠never thought someone like you would feel that way about someone like me.â
She looked at you, her expression softening. âAnd why wouldnât I? Youâre⌠remarkable.â
The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldnât help but smile. âWell, I guess that makes two of us, then.â
Her eyes widened slightly. âYou⌠feel the same?â
âYeah,â you said, your cheeks flushing. âI guess I was just waiting for a sign.â
Shadowheart laughed softly, the sound lighter than youâd ever heard from her. âApparently, I need to be less subtle.â
As the fire crackled between you, the tension that had been simmering for so long finally gave way to something warmer, something real. And for the first time in weeks, Shadowheart felt at peace.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Jaheira:
Jaheira was not a woman who pined. Or so she told herself. A High Harper, disciplined and pragmatic, she had weathered countless battles and heartbreaks. Yet, here she was, sneaking glances at you across camp, her chest tightening whenever you smiled or laughed. It was maddening. How had you managed to worm your way so deeply into her thoughts?
Despite her years of wisdom, Jaheira found herself at a loss. She didnât know how to bridge the gap between the two of you, not without risking her pride or the delicate balance of your group.
The worst part was your complete and utter obliviousness. Sheâd tried subtletyâlingering conversations, offering you extra help with tactics, even sharing stories of her youth that she told no one else. You simply smiled warmly, thanked her, and went about your day as though her heart hadnât been laid bare in every word.
One evening, after another frustrating day of yearning and getting nowhere, Astarion finally had enough.
âJaheira, darling, may I have a word?â Astarion said, sidling up to her as she sharpened her blade near the fire.
âWhat do you want, Astarion?â she asked, her tone brusque.
He smirked, clearly unbothered by her irritation. âOh, nothing much. Just to offer my⌠expert services in matters of the heart.â
Jaheira blinked, her sharpening stone pausing mid-stroke. âWhat are you talking about?â
Astarion gestured dramatically toward you, where you sat chatting animatedly with Karlach. âIâm talking about your obvious pining for our dear leader. Itâs positively tragic to watch.â
Jaheiraâs cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned back to her blade. âI donât know what you mean.â
âOh, please,â Astarion said, rolling his eyes. âYou practically glow whenever theyâre around. Itâs adorable, really. But I must say, your approach could use some⌠finesse.â
Jaheira scowled at him. âI am not some lovesick fool, and I certainly donât need advice from a vampire with more charm than sense.â
âPerhaps not,â Astarion said, unfazed. âBut consider this: have your current tactics worked? Have they so much as noticed your affection?â
Jaheiraâs silence was answer enough.
âI thought so,â Astarion said smugly. âNow, listen closely. You need to be bold. Direct. Use your natural charisma and authority to your advantage. And if all else fails, a little flirtation never hurt anyone.â
Jaheira narrowed her eyes. âI am not a charlatan like you, Astarion. I wonât lower myself to cheap tricks.â
âWho said anything about cheap tricks?â Astarion replied, feigning offense. âThink of it as⌠a strategic maneuver. After all, you wouldnât hesitate to outwit an enemy in battle, would you?â
Jaheira sighed, considering his words. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasnât entirely wrong. âFine. Iâll listen. But if this backfires, Iâll hold you personally responsible.â
âSplendid,â Astarion said, clapping his hands together. âNow, letâs start with a little more confidence in your approachâŚâ
The next morning, you noticed something strange about Jaheira. She was⌠different.
She approached you with a faint smile that seemed just a touch too practiced, her movements deliberate and graceful in a way that reminded you of someone else.
âGood morning,â she said, her voice smooth and measured. âDid you sleep well?â
You blinked, caught off guard. âUh, yeah. I did. And you?â
âPerfectly,â she replied, her eyes lingering on you in a way that felt⌠odd. âThough I couldnât help but think of our conversation from yesterday. You truly have a fascinating mind.â
You tilted your head, trying to piece together what was happening. Something about her tone, her body languageâit was familiar. And then it hit you.
âWait a minute,â you said, narrowing your eyes. âWhy are you acting like Astarion?â
Jaheira froze, her carefully crafted façade slipping for just a moment. âI⌠what?â
âYouâre doing the thing he does,â you said, mimicking a dramatic hand gesture. âThe suave, overly charming thing. Itâs not like you.â
Jaheiraâs cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away, muttering something under her breath.
From across camp, Astarion burst into laughter, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. âOh, this is too good!â
Jaheira shot him a withering glare before turning back to you, her expression softening. âPerhaps Iâve been⌠trying too hard. Forgive me if I seemed unlike myself.â
You smiled, your warmth cutting through her frustration. âYou donât need to try so hard, Jaheira. I like you just as you are.â
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didnât know what to say. Then, with a small, genuine smile, she nodded. âThank you. That means⌠more than you know.â
As she walked away, Astarion approached, still grinning. âWell, that could have gone better, but at least they noticed you.â
Jaheira shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. âNever again, Astarion. Never again.â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Gale:
The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the riverside in warm golds and soft shadows. Gale, waist-deep in the cool water, had his arms crossed in front of him as if the sheer act of holding himself together could quell the maelstrom of feelings raging inside. His crush on you was a storm that refused to abate, leaving him with sleepless nights and days filled with longing glances.
From the riverbank, Minthara watched him with a look of abject irritation. Minthara had ordered him to take a dip in the cold water after he had decided to unleash his love-filled ranting unto her ears as they collected water. She assured him she would be fine to take the water back by herself, and when he thought she had left he keenly stripped and waded into the water. But Minthara had not left, no, Gale's lovesick demeanor had created a vendetta against her and she decided to take action.
"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath. She didnât think it was possible for wizards to get worse, but Gale was proving her wrong. With a smirk, she moved silently to where Gale had left his clothes folded neatly on a nearby rock. With the swift efficiency of a seasoned tactician, she gathered them up and strode back toward camp.
You were enjoying a moment of quiet when Minthara approached, holding a bundle of robes in her arms.
"The wizard is by the river," she said bluntly. "It seems heâs in need of assistance."
You frowned, glancing at the clothing. "Assistance? With what?"
Mintharaâs lips quirked into a thin smile. "He appears⌠indisposed. Perhaps you should go and see for yourself."
Before you could ask more, she tossed the robes into the fire and strode away, leaving you thoroughly puzzled but intrigued. You could have sworn those were Gale's. With haste, you made your way towards the river and when you arrived at the riverbank, you called out, "Gale? Everything alright?"
Gale startled, his head whipping around to face you, his hair slicked back and glistening in the sunlight. Clearly he had been searching for his robes. "Ah, no! I mean, yesâyes, everythingâs fine!"
You raised a brow, stepping closer to the waterâs edge. "Are you sure? Minthara said you needed help."
At the mention of her name, Gale groaned. "Of course, she did. And I suppose she also absconded with my robes?" He shot a wary glance toward the shore, clearly trying to maintain some distance.
"Unfortunately so. Whatâs going on?" you asked, scanning the area. Then you noticed the way his face burned red, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Why are you still in the water? Itâs getting late. and the river's current is about to pick up, you need to get out, now."
He hesitated, his fingers flexing nervously beneath the waterâs surface. "Itâs⌠complicated."
"Complicated how?" You looked around, spotting no immediate danger apart from the increasing current. "Do you need a hand getting out? I can lend you my cloak."
"You donât understand!" Gale blurted, his voice cracking slightly. "This isnât about the coldâor the current. ItâsâŚ" He trailed off, visibly warring with himself.
You tilted your head, curious and slightly amused. "Then what is it about? Youâre not exactly making it easy to help you."
Gale sighed deeply, sinking a little lower into the water until only his nose and eyes peeked out. Then, in a low, hurried tone, he confessed, "Iâm afraid my feelings for you have⌠manifested in a rather inconvenient manner."
Your brow furrowed. "Feelings for me?"
"Yes!" Gale said, his voice growing more desperate. "Feelings. Strong feelingsâromantic, longing, entirely improper feelings for someone as⌠exceptional as you."
You blinked, the weight of his words settling over you like the warmth of the setting sun. "Youâwait. You like me?"
"Yes," he muttered, his face practically steaming despite the cool water. "Which is precisely why I canât leave this river at the moment."
The realization dawned slowly, but when it clicked, a grin spread across your face. "Oh," you said, fighting back laughter. "Oh."
"Yes," Gale grumbled, his mortification complete. "You see now why this is problematic."
You couldnât stop the chuckle that escaped. "So, let me get this straight. Youâre saying your feelings are⌠visible at the moment?"
Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you insist on phrasing it that way, then yes."
You laughed harder, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Gale, thatâs not the end of the world."
"Easy for you to say," he muttered. "Youâre not the one at risk of a compromising exit."
Still laughing, you crouched by the waterâs edge, your cloak in hand. "Come on. I promise Iâll look the other way. Just wrap this around your waist - tightly, and letâs get you back to camp."
Gale hesitated, clearly torn between his pride and the practicality of your offer. The river was rising, and the current becoming less forgiving. He didn't know what would be worse, coming out in this state or having to have you rescue him whilst he was in this condition. Finally, he sighed. "Youâre infuriatingly kind, you know that?"
"Only to people I like," you teased, winking at him.
That earned you a small, genuine smile, despite his predicament. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the shore, his blush never fading. You diligently kept your eyes closed, but there was that little devil inside you willing you to take a peak. He wrapped the cloak around his waist, only for you to hear a small, defeated sigh.
"You cannot laugh at me, but please may I request that I carry your shoes back to camp?" He asked, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Wow you must really like me-"
"-The shoes please!"
Still giggling to yourself, you took off your shoes and passed them to him, allowing him to use them as a shield to his nether region.
You were finally able to look at him, his cheeks flushed beet red as he murmured, "I am going to kill Minthara, or at least try to."
"You know, Gale, I think Minthara might have done us both a favor."
Gale groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never speak of this again. And especially do not encourage her behaviour."
"No promises," you said with a grin, walking beside him as you both headed back to camp. "Perhaps, I might want to get caught short with you."
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Astarion:
Astarion was not accustomed to being ignored, least of all by someone who had managed to captivate him so thoroughly. Yet here you were, brushing off his every flirtation, every lingering glance, every word dripping with a charm that could make others fall at his feet.
You were different, infuriatingly so. Every smirk, every sly compliment, every touch of his hand to your arm was met with a polite laugh, a nod, orâworseâa casual thanks before you moved on as though he hadnât just thrown his best seductive lines at you.
For someone like Astarion, whose every move had been meticulously calculated for centuries, this was unbearable. He was practically seething with frustration as he watched you across the camp, laughing at something Karlach had said. He sighed dramatically, slumping onto a nearby log, the perfect picture of a man whose heart was in shambles.
It wasnât that he didnât understand why you might be cautious around him. He wasnât blind to his own past or the scars it had left on his soul. But this? This obliviousness wasnât cautionâit was sheer ignorance of his very obvious yearning.
And so, out of options and desperately needing help, he did something he never thought he would: he sought out Gale.
Gale was sitting by the fire, absently flipping through his spellbook, when Astarion approached him. The vampireâs usual smirk was replaced with something that looked suspiciously like a grimace.
âGale,â Astarion began, his voice unusually subdued.
Gale looked up, raising an eyebrow. âAstarion? To what do I owe this⌠peculiar honor?â
Astarion waved a hand dismissively. âYes, yes, spare me the preamble. I need your help.â
âMy help?â Gale blinked. âWhat kind of apocalyptic disaster requires my assistance? Surely not something involving a certain someone we both know?â
Astarionâs lips pressed into a thin line. âYes. Them.â
Gale set his book down, his interest piqued. âAh, I see. Youâre pining.â
âI am not pining,â Astarion snapped, though the blush creeping up his pale cheeks betrayed him. âI am⌠strategically pursuing. Subtly, I might add.â
Gale snorted. âIf by subtle, you mean utterly transparent, then yes. Youâve been as subtle as a fireball in a wheat field.â
Astarion scowled. âThey donât see it that way. They think Iâm just⌠charming. Which, of course, I am, but thereâs more to it than that.â
âAnd you want my advice?â Gale leaned back, crossing his arms. âMe, the man youâve spent weeks mocking for my âtragic romanticismâ?â
âYes, yes, revel in the irony if you must,â Astarion said impatiently. âBut youâre annoyingly good- most of the time, at all this grand gesture nonsense, and clearly, I need a new approach.â
Gale chuckled, a little too pleased with himself. âAll right. Letâs see. The key here is sincerity. You canât just charm your way through this one. You have to show them how you feel.â
Astarion frowned. âAnd how exactly do I do that?â
âThink of something meaningful to them,â Gale suggested. âAn act that demonstrates you understand them, that you care about them deeply. And,â he added with a smirk, âmaybe tone down the smirking and innuendo for five minutes.â
The next day, Astarion put Galeâs advice into actionâor at least, his version of it. You were sitting by the riverbank, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when Astarion approached you, holding something behind his back.
âAh, there you are,â he said, his tone softer than usual.
You smiled up at him. âWhatâs up, Astarion?â
âI, uh⌠I noticed something the other day.â He cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically awkward. âYou mentioned how much you missed those silly little biscuits from Baldurâs Gate, the ones with the sugar glaze.â
You blinked, caught off guard. âI did?â
âYes, you did,â he said quickly. âAnd, well⌠here.â He produced a carefully wrapped package and handed it to you. Inside were a handful of the biscuits, slightly crumbled but still intact.
Your eyes widened. âHow did youâŚ?â
âDonât ask questions,â he said, his smirk creeping back despite his best efforts. âJust enjoy them.â
You looked up at him, touched by the gesture but still utterly oblivious to the deeper meaning. âThanks, Astarion. Thatâs really sweet of you.â
He stared at you for a moment, waiting for somethingâanythingâto click. When it didnât, he sighed dramatically and flopped onto the grass beside you.
âAre you truly this dense, my beautiful fool?â he muttered under his breath.
âHm?â
âNothing,â he said, flashing you a too-bright smile. âEnjoy your biscuits, darling.â
From a distance, Gale watched the exchange with a shake of his head, muttering, âSome people are beyond help.â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Wyll:
Wyll was not used to being ignored, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He prided himself on his charm, his courtly manners, and his ability to woo with a single smile. Yet, when it came to you, all his gentlemanly gestures seemed to bounce right off you like a deflected blade.
He would offer you his hand to help you over rough terrain, only to receive a simple "Thanks, Wyll!" and a cheerful pat on his shoulder. Heâd bring you breakfast, perfectly arranged, and youâd compliment him on his âteam spirit.â Heâd even tried a few subtler lines, but you always brushed them off as his natural charisma, as if his feelings werenât entirely focused on you.
So, after one particularly frustrating evening where you didnât even notice how his gaze lingered on you by the firelight, Wyll decided he needed help.
And who better to consult than the campâs most direct and fearless member, Laeâzel?
Laeâzel was sharpening her sword when Wyll approached, his usual confident demeanor slightly crumpled under the weight of his unspoken affection. She glanced up, her sharp eyes narrowing.
âWyll,â she said bluntly, âyou look as though youâve swallowed a blade sideways. Spit it out.â
He cleared his throat, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot. âItâs about⌠them,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Laeâzelâs expression didnât change. âAh, the object of your obsession.â
Wyll winced. âItâs not an obsession.â
âCall it what you will,â she said, shrugging. âYou pine for them like a fledgling seeking a mate. What of it?â
âI donât know how to⌠tell them,â Wyll confessed, his usual eloquence failing him. âThey seem entirely immune to my advances.â
Laeâzel snorted. âPerhaps because your âadvancesâ are weak. Soft. You dote on them like a mother hen, not a warrior. If you want their attention, you must assert dominance.â
âAssert dominance?â Wyll repeated, looking increasingly alarmed.
âYes,â Laeâzel said firmly. âChallenge them. Best them in combat. Show them your strength. Then, when they are weak and trembling, you proclaim your intent to claim them as yours.â
Wyllâs face turned scarlet. âThatâsâThatâs not how courtship works!â
âOf course it is,â Laeâzel said, waving a dismissive hand. âYou prove your physical and sexual prowess through battle. What better way to ensure compatibility?â
Wyll sputtered, his composure unraveling. âIâI donât think theyâd appreciate being âclaimedâ like a prize after a fight.â
âThey would respect it,â Laeâzel insisted. âAnd likely find it arousing.â
âLaeâzel!â Wyllâs voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, his flames of embarrassment rivaling Karlachâs.
From across the camp, you noticed the commotion and Wyllâs obvious distress. Concerned, you got up and made your way over. âWyll? Are you okay?â
Laeâzelâs smirk widened as Wyllâs blush deepened. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling for words. âAhâYes! Fine! Everything is fine!â
You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. âAre you sure? You look like youâve just lost a sparring match.â
Before Laeâzel could open her mouth to make things infinitely worse, Wyll quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you aside.
âJust a minor⌠disagreement,â he said quickly, his voice cracking again. âNothing to worry about.â
You gave him a curious look, but his obvious flustered state distracted you from pressing further. âOkay, if youâre sure.â
Laeâzel watched you go with Wyll, shaking her head and muttering, âCoward. They would have respected a proper duel.â
Meanwhile, Wyll was doing his best to calm his racing heart and come up with a less mortifying way to tell you how he feltâideally without Laeâzelâs "help."
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Halsin:
Halsin prided himself on his control, his connection to nature, and his ability to remain grounded in even the most chaotic of circumstances. But when it came to you, all of that composure seemed to dissolve like frost under the morning sun.
You were utterly magnetic to himâyour presence so compelling that his heart would stutter every time you entered the same space. He found himself enchanted by the curve of your smile, the warmth in your voice, the kindness in your touch. And it was unbearable. Literally, because every time you touched his arm or leaned in to speak to him, his instincts would flare wildly out of control.
The first time it happened, youâd brushed some stray leaves off his shoulder after he returned from foraging. âHalsin, youâve brought back half the forest,â you joked, smiling up at him.
Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a rush of heat overtook him, andâ bamâhe was suddenly a large, startled elk.
You jumped back with a yelp of surprise, staring wide-eyed at the animal in front of you. âHalsin?â
The elk gave a deep snort, its head hanging low as if mortified.
It happened again not long after, when you touched his hand while passing him a flask of water. This time, he transformed into a wolf, looking up at you with ears pinned back, practically radiating sheepishness.
âHalsin,â you laughed, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, âyouâve got to warn me if youâre going to do that.â
By the time the third accidental wildshape happenedâthis time as a squirrel after you had simply smiled at himâJaheira had had enough.
The older druid cornered Halsin after dinner, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face. âYouâre a leader, Halsin. A figure of strength and wisdom. Yet here you are, hiding in fur and feathers because of a crush.â
âItâs not just a crush,â Halsin muttered, his deep voice unusually uncertain. âItâs⌠consuming. Every time I try to speak to them, I lose myself. They are radiant, Jaheira. I can hardly stand near them withoutââ
ââturning into livestock, yes,â Jaheira interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. âYouâre a druid, not a child. Get a grip, Halsin. They wonât notice your feelings unless you make them clear. And for the love of Silvanus, do it without shifting.â
Halsin sighed heavily but nodded. âYouâre right. I must face this head-on.â
Jaheira clapped him on the shoulder. âGood. Now go before you sprout wings or something ridiculous.â
Halsin found you sitting by the campfire, a jar of honey and a piece of bread in your hands. The firelight danced across your features, and Halsin felt his heart thrum painfully in his chest.
âIs everything okay, Halsin?â you asked, looking up at him with a concerned smile.
Halsin cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain steady. âYes, I⌠there is something I need to tell you.â
You tilted your head, some honey glistening on your lips. âOf course. What is it?â
And that was it. The sight of your lips, the gentle curve of your expressionâit was too much. Despite every ounce of willpower he had summoned, Halsinâs body betrayed him. With a flash of light and a muffled groan, he was suddenly a massive brown bear, sitting heavily on the ground.
You blinked, staring at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. âHalsin! You did it again!â
From across the camp, Jaheira let out a long, exasperated groan, throwing her hands up. âI give up!â she muttered, stalking off.
The bear lowered its massive head, letting out a low huff of frustration. You reached over and gently placed a hand on his fur.
âItâs okay, big guy,â you said, grinning. âYouâll figure it out eventually.â
If Halsin could have blushed, he would have. Instead, he let you pet him, resigning himself to the fact that his feelings were much harder to control than heâd ever anticipated.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
This was so so so so so much fun to write !! Especially Gale's icl hehehe. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
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.
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 đ¤
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 sheâd swallowed the end of a cigar wrong. You wouldnât have thought much of it if it werenât 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 youâd think she had only fallen quiet over the noise of the bar.
âDoll,â she warned, lifting a hand as if that would stop you from speaking. âDonât.â
âSevikaââ
âIâm fine.â
Ah, here we go.
The woman had been acting off all day. She wasnât 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. âYouâre sick.â
âNo, Iâm not.â
âYouâre literally sweating.â
âItâs hot in here.â
âItâs the middle of winter.â
She huffed, shifting in her seat at the bar. âThen someone should fix the damn heat.â
âSevika.â 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 wasnât, in fact, dying of fever.
She turned away. âIâm fine.â
âYeah? Prove it. Stand up.â
Sevika scoffed and pushed herself up from the barstool, only for her legs to buckle beneath her immediately. If you hadnât caught her, she wouldâve face-planted right onto the grimy floor of The Last Drop.
âUh-huh. Fine, my ass.â You tightened your grip on her waist, helping her stay upright while she grumbled against your shoulder. âCâmon, big mama. Weâre going home.â
Sevika groaned, but she didnât 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 Zaunâs damp alleyways toward her apartment.
She didnât make it easy.
âYouâyouâre making a big deal out of nothing,â she slurred, leaning heavier against you with every step.
âYeah? You just tried to pick a fight with a mailbox.â
âIt was looking at me funny.â
âSure it was.â
She made an irritated sound in the back of her throat but didnât argue further. Probably because she knew sheâd 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 âtoo bossy for your own good.â
âAnd youâre too stubborn for your own good,â you shot back, rolling your eyes as you pried her boots off. âNow stay put while I get you some medicine.â
Sevika didnât respond. You thought she had actually, finally, fallen asleepâuntil you came back with a glass of water and found the bed empty.
Your eye twitched.
âSevika.â
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. âAre you seriously hiding from me right now?â
âNo.â
A blatant lie.
âYou are sick,â you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. âGet back in bed.â
âI donât need to be in bed.â
âYou almost passed out earlier!â
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 fuckâs sake.
She blinked. âHey, doll.â
âBed. Now.â
She groaned but didnât 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.
âYou are so difficult,â 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.
âYou wanna keep pretending youâre fine,â you said, voice softer now, âor do you wanna let me take care of you?â
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.
âJust this once,â she muttered.
Your lips twitched. âOh? Just this once?â
âShut up before I change my mind.â
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 sheâd never admit it.
âSee? Not so bad, is it?â
She grumbled but leaned into your hand.
Youâd 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 werenât looking).
She complained the entire time.
âStop hovering.â
âIâm not hovering.â
âYouâre literally watching me breathe, doll.â
âMaking sure you still can breathe, actually.â
Sevika groaned, dragging a hand down her face. âThis is worse than the fever.â
âOh, bite me.â
âI would, but youâd probably shove a spoonful of medicine in my mouth the second I opened it.â
âDamn right, I would.â You teased, half-jokingly.
Still, for all her grumbling, she didnât 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.
âUgh,â she muttered. âI feel like I got run over.â
âYou look like you got run over,â you teased, ruffling her already messy hair.
She scowled but didnât swat your hand away. Instead, she glanced at you, something unreadable in her gaze.
âThanks,â she said gruffly.
Your lips curled. âFor what?â
She sighed, rolling her eyes. âYou know what for.â
You grinned. âSay it.â
âNo.â
âCâmon. Just say it, baby.â
âAbsolutely not.â
You poked her cheek. âSevika.â
She grunted.
âVikaaaaââ you cooed her name, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned into her.
She groaned, pushing your face away. âFine. Thanks for taking care of me, you insufferable brat.â
You beamed. âWas that so hard?â
âYes. Excruciating.â
You laughed, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead before she could complain. âYouâre welcome, you stubborn thing.â
She rolled her eyes but didnât hide the small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Maybe, just maybe, sheâd 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.