abbyssgf

[abbyssgf]

— queens

pairing: queen!sevika x princess!reader

synopsis: your parents -king and queen of Piltover- were in desperate need of paying back their rival kingdom, and their best way to do that was selling you off to the queen of Zaun.

warnings: dark themes, age gap, power imbalance, corruption, manipulation, hinted purity standards, mtf sevika (cut this g!p shit out rn), mean!sevika outside of sex, inexperienced!reader, praise, fingering, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus, pussy slaps, spanking, so much consent!, multiple orgasms, blowjob, light degradation, insane amounts of dirty talk, minor perv!sevika, sub!top!sevika if you squint

wc: 5.1k

a/n: in this piltover and zaun are two entirely separate entities, they don't rely on each other for anything, not similar to arcane. like always thank you to gf @sevsgiirl for all the help and encouragement along the way <3 special thanks to @v1kastr4p for the inspo!!!

If someone had told you two years ago that you’d be married off to the king of your kingdom’s rival, you wouldn’t have believed them.

In your defense, two years ago, your father was still alive, and your kingdom hadn’t yet fallen on hardship, reliant on Zaun for funds to feed your citizens. Piltover thrived before your fathers death, but your parents' production of no male heirs led to turmoil when his rule came to an end.

Naturally, Zaun wanted penance for aiding your country back onto its feet after your fathers death. You were far too weak and poor to repay them with funds, and that, unfortunately, is where you came in. Against your wishes or will, your mother practically sold you off to them - insistent that you wouldn’t ever rule in Piltover, so you didn’t hold a role in the country.

The following week, you were gone.

At the ripe age of twenty five, your mother pushed the idea that you were a prude, and far too old to be married. She claimed that if you didn’t marry the king in Zaun, you weren’t ever to be married, even though you didn’t even like men. And so, with many tears and much screaming, you packed your things and got shipped off to Zaun.

That’s where you stood now - the pearl gates with purple accents were locked before you, the last thing you were to see before entering the kingdom you would spend the rest of your life in. The guards were quick to open the gates for your carriages, and off you went.

You had been to Zaun once before in your childhood, but the country was drastically different now. It thrived, dark aura shooting through the streets and through the bones of every passerby. It wasn’t anything like Piltover. PIltover thrived on the idea of likeness, one way or another forcing every citizen to fall in the same line, copies of each other.

But here. Here, the subjects existed in utter uniqueness. Some rich, some poor, brought together by a common good. Your fear briefly subsided as people lined the street to welcome you. Children threw flower petals as the adults smiled and waved, a welcome that you would’ve never received in the coldness of your own country.

For a moment, it all seemed as if it would be okay. But, the moment ended as the carriage neared the palace. It was gorgeous, in its own defense. Lined with bushes of purple roses, made of old white stone. It was a vision, and a stunning reminder of your reason for being here. Trumpets sounded as your carriage came to a halt and the doors swung open, guards waiting for you as you stepped out.

Cameras were quick to flock to you, flashes coming from each direction, paralyzing you. Your arrival was international news, meaning that every news anchor under the sun was waiting for you, like some kind of celebrity.

You were escorted in and taken to a room, where several chairs rested in a circle. A woman sat next to the king’s spot, presumably a stewardess, and a knight was posted by the door. Otherwise, the room was empty and dark, the least welcoming of anything thus far.

“Princess!” the woman shot up from her seat, rushing to you. “What a pleasure it is to welcome you to Zaun. Please, sit. Her majesty will be with us shortly, she was attending a meeting. Would you like anything to eat? I understand your travels were long.” You gave her a polite no, hardly focusing on anything other than her use of a female pronoun.

Several minutes passed before the doors opened. Her majesty was announced, and you stood with Elora. As she took her seat - the king’s seat - your pulse quickened past anything it ever had. The woman was beyond brooding but undeniably attractive; tall past words, muscle that of a god, neutral expression as if this was a tedious activity. Her hair fell messily from a bun on the back of her head, and you wondered how on earth her stewardess let her get away with that.

“Piltover’s princess,” she spoke, gruffly. “Welcome to Zaun.” Her face was dressed with a smirk, the expression clearly reading that she knew something you didn’t. When you met her eyes, the grey in them sparkled, and her tooth gap poked out from behind the smirk.

“When will I speak with the king? I am to be married and I would love to finally meet the man in question.” You weren’t having the woman’s snideness, not after all that you’d gone through. “If there’s something wrong, I beg you to send me back to Piltover.”

“I am the king, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.” Your mouth fell agape.

“You-you’re a woman,” you scoffed, your own bewilderment getting the best of you. You had heard a great deal of rumors about the king from the night staff in Piltover, but you never thought any of them were true.

“Seems that way,” she said flatly. “We are to be married tomorrow in the evening. Your maid will assist you with your dress and whatever else you may need. Elora will tell you everything else you need to know.” She pushed the chair back and stood, not glancing in your direction before walking out of the room.

You looked around frantically, the need for answers polluting your brain. “Before you say anything,” Elora interrupted your breakdown, “I understand that this situation is confusing for someone who comes from such a conservative country. Your answers will come with time. For now, we must get you to your chambers.” She said it as if it was your fault for your lack of understanding. Well, it could've been. Piltover wasn’t a progressive country, and whatever was happening here wasn’t something that would ever happen there.

All you were absolutely sure of is that you were in for one hell of a ride.

-

Weddings were typically something that changed the path of someone’s life. It was the covenant bond between two people - souls intertwined, so deeply and passionately in love that they agreed to spend the rest of their lives together. But that wasn’t the situation for you, and it killed you inside.

The wedding was everything someone else could’ve desired. You got any dress you wanted, there was a marvelous party with tables and tables worth of food and drinks. Your family made the trip just to attend. Paparazzi took picture after picture of the ‘hot new happy couple’ - pictures that were worldwide news in moments.

You let yourself enjoy what you could, until it was over. Until the buzz ended and the castle rested for the night. Until you were back in your shared chambers, looking at yourself in the mirror with Sevika nowhere to be found. You figured she was tending to another woman until she abruptly appeared, several buttons of her shirt coming undone at the top.

You turned to her, faced with the inevitable reality of what was to come next on a wedding night. You looked at each other for a moment before she got bored and walked past you, going into the closet to fetch sleepwear.

“So what? That’s it?” You scoffed, embarrassment burning in your face as you looked at the underdressed woman sitting before you.

“What else is there to do? We’re married. It’s over.” You practically shrieked in frustration.

“The seal. What a married couple does on the night of their wedding.” She continued untying her dress shoes before what you said truly set in. Slowly, she glanced up at you, brows knit at your angered expression and arms crossed over your chest.

“Are you trying to say that you wanna fuck?” Your mouth fell agape.

“That’s incredibly crude-”

“We’re not doing that. You’re not ready.” She stood once her shoes were off and you stopped her in her path, finger against her chest. If you weren’t so angry, the position would’ve enamored you. To even meet her eyes, you had to look up… and up, and up. Wisps of her hair flew out across her face, and unfortunately, her uncaring expression was almost attractive. But you hated her. Simple.

“You don’t get to decide what I am and am not ready for. I believe in a seal and we are to do it.” She took your wrist in her hand and squeezed it, moving it away from her chest. Your skin warmed and tingled, the pads of her fingers grazing tightly against your veins.

“You’ll learn here that you don’t always get what you want. I’m returning to my own separate room and staying there. There is no such thing as a seal in Zaun. Goodnight, princess.” She walked away without another word, ignoring your yelling that chased her out the door.

The following two weeks took the same schedule day to day: sleep in separate chambers, eat at separate times, exercise, read, eat dinner together, repeat. Elora insisted that it was merely because the queen was busy, but you reminded her each time that you were also the queen, and therefore should be included in her activities and decisions. It got you nowhere.

The single thing that kept you going was the one event you had in your future; your first public outing with Sevika. You were to go to a children’s hospital and read to them together, and you were beyond excited. Unfortunately, it meant spending time with your estranged wife, but you would suffice.

The day came and you woke before your maid even made it to your bedroom in the morning. You wore the royal equivalent of a sundress - a pale yellow dress that fell to your ankles and covered your shoulders, modest in the eyes of Piltover. You hadn’t yet conformed to the ideals of Zaun yet, and you feared you never would.

Your routine followed its typical schedule, except that you were waiting by the doors once your breakfast was finished. Sevika didn’t pay you a glance before getting into the carriage, leaving you standing at the castle doors like a ditz.

“Nice to see you too.” You gritted out from clenched teeth as you climbed in. The jumble of words already had her sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. “You act like being around me is the worst curse placed on your bloodline. You understand we’re married, yes?”

“Enough,” she sneered. “Keep talking like that and I’ll turn this carriage around and leave you in the castle,” with a roll of your eyes, you huffed and sank into the seat. “We both must look like we’re in love when we get there. Start practicing, you’re not any good at acting.”

“And how are you so sure?” You snapped.

“You pretend as if I’m the villain and you’re desperate for my attention, but you’re just as miserable as me.” Her expression was flat. “All that matters is that the news doesn’t get an inkling that we’re miserable. Figure it out.”

The carriage came to a halt before you could answer, and the doors swung open moments later. People crowded the hospital, smiling and throwing flowers just like they had when you arrived. Sevika got out first, pausing and extending a hand for you. Begrudgingly, you took it, grinning and waving out at the crowd as you followed in her footsteps.

To your misfortune, the outing had you briefly marveling at Sevika. She worked with children like it was her job, animating stories like nothing you’d seen before, and the children adored it. She knew each of them by name, and talked to them about their stays and how they were managing. For a moment you pondered whether her mean nature was simply a facade, until you were reminded of the conversation in the carriage - all that mattered was how the news viewed you.

Everything went fine until you finally had a moment apart.

A child approached you; short, brown hair, brown eyes, caramel skin. He was adorable, and you were moved as soon as he came up to you and pulled on the skirt of your dress. “Queen,” he said, and you crouched to his height, holding his hands gently. “Why are you and the queen not together?” You sighed.

“Well, the queen isn’t always the nicest person. Sometimes she isn’t very kind to be around. But it’s a good reminder that we should be kind to everyone.” With a quick ‘okay’, he hugged you and ran off, reuniting with the group.

You shared a story reading with Sevika and posed for pictures with the children before leaving, and it struck you that the moment was over the second you sat in the carriage. Your only scheduled outing, only human interaction outside of Elora and the coldness of your wife, over. Just like that.

“I’m setting you up for etiquette lessons.” Sevika drew you away from your train of thought. “You perform terribly in public. Elora will add them into whatever you do during the day.” You groaned, running your hands over your face.

“Not only is that not your place, but you would know what I do during the day if you bothered spending longer than one meal with me. I’m only miserable because I have no interaction with anyone. We’re stuck together whether you like it or not and you better get used to it.”

“You’re not better than me because you insist on getting close immediately.” She pushed you off with a shrug and the carriage remained quiet for the rest of the trip home, you too angry to respond to her digs.

When you returned to the palace, you promptly climbed out of the carriage before her and stormed in and up to your quarters. The situation infuriated you. You decided in the midst of your pacing that you would insist that she let you do things off of the castle grounds, anything, if it meant that you could see and talk to other people.

When you finally manned up enough to talk to her, the doors to your bedroom were being thrown open, and there she was before you. She looked like she could combust at any moment, so angry that the tips of her ears were red. “I was just about to-” she cut you off, crowding into the room and slamming the door behind her.

“Shut up. What the fuck is this?” She threw a newspaper at you and you caught it. Glancing down, you read the first page - “Problems in the Palace?”. The front page article was next to a picture of you with the boy you talked to in the hospital, and it went into detail about the things you said to him.

“I made a mistake, it's not the end of the world, Sevika. You’re overdramatizing this.” She ran her hands through her hair, gripping the roots harshly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody cares about where you’re from or what happens there. This is global news! This could end trade agreements and public relations. Are you fucking dense?” You cringed, realizing the reality of the situation.

“I was honest about our situation to a child. We’ll have every other outing to disprove that idea.” She groaned and you rolled your eyes, popping a hip out and placing your hand on it.

“Honest? Is that what you call it? We don’t speak to one another. There isn’t any unkindness in my palace. Get a grip.” Your anger was already growing, but her insistence on pretending as if your feelings didn’t matter only got you going further.

“No unkindness? What do you call what happened in the carriage? Or our wedding night?” She laughed, loud and howling, before looking at you with an angry grin.

“That’s what this is all about? The fact that I refused to fuck you a month ago?” You ran your hands over your face once again, hoping that it would wash away the sight in front of you. Talking to her was like talking to a wall, but on the mild occasion, the wall was correct.

“It was the seal of our marriage. It mattered to me. I hardly even consider us married. But that doesn’t outweigh every other time you’ve been an absolute dick to me.” She rolled her eyes, stepping towards you to lean against the pillar of your bed.

“Hey princess, what actually happens during the seal?” She taunted. You couldn’t formulate an idea. Any discussion of reproduction was one that wasn’t had in Piltover - not to mention how it works with another woman. She laughed again when your gaze fell to your feet and your thumbs twiddled together. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about and you expect me to fuck you?”

“God forbid not all of us sleep around nightly. I’m sure you’ve had a new woman in your bed every night since I got here, but I wouldn’t know since we don’t even share quarters!” Your voice rose and she was in your face in seconds, bent over you.

“Do not ever make the assumption that just because I don’t like you I am not loyal to you. You are my wife and I treat you like such. I would never court another woman.” Strangely, your heart warmed.

“Then why won’t you do it with me? You claim I’m your wife. Teach me if you insist I know so little.” Her eyes closed, the ability to keep looking at you becoming taxing, as she released a harsh breath through her nose.

“You must be absolutely sure that this is what you want. I still don’t think you’re ready. Have you ever even kissed anyone?” She met your eyes, brows knit.

“Well- no. But I can’t imagine that it’s that difficult-” Her head rolled back and she moved away from you with a groan. On instinct you reached out, grabbing her flesh wrist.

“Jesus,” she pulled you in by your grip on her wrist and caught your jaw in her mech hand, leaning down to kiss you with no hesitation. Your eyes shot open as her mouth found your own, but they fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss. The metal of her hand was cool against the warm blush in your cheeks.

Her flesh hand curled around your waist as your hands came up behind her neck, pulling you into her warm, hard body. You moaned when her tongue ran along your lip, opening your mouth to let her in. Her tongue ran over your own, sucking on it and pulling moans from your body like it was nothing.

And like that, she pulled away, leaving you dazed, pupils blown, lips swollen. “There you go, princess. First kiss.” Your stomach turned, warmth pooling in your panties. She was cocky, looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling.

“That was nice,” you squeaked, head too full of lewd thoughts to say much more. She laughed again, less harsh this time, as she bent down and placed a gentle kiss under your ear. Your hands gripped her large shoulders, nails digging into them over the fabric of her night shirt.

“Nice, huh? ‘s that all you have to say, sweetheart? Need you to use your words for me.” Your grip got even tighter. She pressed another kiss into the column of your throat. “That got you going, didn’t it?” You nodded frantically as her teeth pulled at your skin, tongue darting out immediately after.

“Vika,” you whined, making her move to make eye contact with you. “I want more.” She could’ve  moaned right then, but she chose to lift you by your waist instead, dropping you onto your bed. Your hair fanned out on your pillow, night dress riding up your thigh. You were a sight.

Sevika kneeled between your legs, spreading them carefully as she planned her next move. Gently, she ran her thumb along your heat, making you twitch and moan. “This is your cunt. She belongs to me, y’know that bunny? She’s all mine.” Her hand came down over your cunt with a precise slap and you whimpered, gripping the sheets. “If you want to stop, you need to tell me, princess.”

“No, no, don’t stop Vika, please.” Your hips rolled off the bed as you attempted to meet her hand once again. “It’s so warm, need you.” Her pupils were blown, watching you practically hump the air in need.

“It’s ‘cause you’re wet, sweetheart. You’ll get what you need eventually.” She leaned over you, hands pushing your thighs up to make room for herself. She kissed your neck, leaving more marks throughout, until she had worked her way down to the neck of your nightdress. “Can I take this off?” You nodded again, earning you another slap against your clit. “Words.”

“Yes Sevi,” you whined. She lifted the garment over you, leaving you in nothing but your panties. She wasted no time attaching her mouth to your boob, sucking your nipple into her mouth and rolling it between her tongue. “Feels so good.” She moaned around your boob, only sucking harder.

By the time she was done with your tits, you were sure hours had gone by. You were absolutely soaked, clit beating so harshly you were sure you were going to explode. She left open mouthed kisses across your ribs and stomach until she finally got to where you needed her most. “Tell me it’s okay for me to continue.”

“It-it’s okay, please, Vika.” She slipped your panties down your legs and her own shirt over her head, leaving you bare. For a moment, she just looked at your pussy, marveling at it.

And then, of course, she took a fat lick from the bottom up to your clit, swirling her tongue around it before sucking it into her mouth. You cried out, locking your hand in her hair as your other hand gripped the sheets tightly. You pushed her head down and she moaned, drunk off the feeling of your cunt in her mouth.

Sevika wouldn’t admit it to you, but she had wanted you since the day she met you. The day in the conference room, where you gave her attitude right off the bat. She wanted you so bad that she had to restrict how often she saw you so that this inevitable event could be prevented. She knew you didn’t want to be here and was sure you didn’t actually want to sleep with her outside of the obligation to.

Yet, here you were, crying and moaning like this was the best thing to ever happen to you. She fucked you with her tongue until your thighs were locking around her head, and she let them, licking up every single drop as you came for the first time.

Tears poured from your eyes when she didn’t let up, middle finger probing your entrance before you could come down from your orgasm. “Sev, it’s so much,” you whimpered as her finger slid into you with ease. She could barely respond as she watched you take her finger like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good girl, bunny. Suckin’ me in like you need it to live.” She crooked her finger, hitting the special spot inside of you and you shrieked. “There she is, that’s my girl. Can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.” She pushed another finger into you and you cried at the stretch, the burning feeling disappearing soon after when she hit that spot again. “Gonna stretch you out nice and well, how’s that sound, sweet girl?” You moaned, a third finger circling you. You wondered how big she was if it meant you had to take three fingers to fit her.

She fucked you through your second orgasm, sucking her fingers clean once you finished. She was palming her bulge through her pants, waiting for you to regain your ability to speak. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” She was trying and desperately failing to maintain a calm persona, but she was so hard it hurt and the idea of fucking you dumb was making her head spin.

You sat up, replacing her hand with your own. “I want to,” you looked up at her as you copied the motions she had just done. She cursed, eyes rolling back as her flesh had shot out to your wrist. She didn’t stop you, but she held your wrist like it was a lifeline.

“Get on your knees,” you did as told, scrambling up and lowering onto your knees in front of the bed. Your hands rested on your thighs and you waited as she discarded her pants and boxers. The sight of her from below was stunning - tits out, abs glistening, dick waiting for you. You stuck your tongue out, knowing nothing but the fact that you wanted it in your mouth.

It was big, bigger than you could’ve imagined. You’d hardly ever seen one, only once in a movie that you had smuggled into Piltover, and hers was nothing like the one in the movie. Her veins curved around it and it twitched when she placed the tip into your open mouth. You closed your mouth around it, sucking, and she moaned like a bitch in heat.

“You’re so fuckin’-so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Fuck, jus’ like that.” Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you further into her until you gagged around her. “C’mon, just a bit more, you sound so pretty.” Tears ran down your cheeks as you sucked her in as far as you could, mouth full to the brim.

Abruptly, she pulled your head back, letting you take a deep breath. Your tongue lolled out again, wanting her back in your mouth, but she shook her head. “If I put my dick back in your mouth I’ll cum.” You sighed.

“I want you to.” She shook her head again, lifting you onto the bed while you giggled.

“How ‘bout I fill your pretty cunt instead?” She dropped you down, pushing your thighs up to your chest. She ran her tip over your clit before hooking it into your entrance and beginning to push in. She could hardly contain herself, groaning before the first inch was even in.

Once she had you stretched so far that you doubted your ability to walk in the morning, she began her pace, fucking you slowly. She leaned over you, head falling into the crook of your shoulder as she fucked you as deep as she could. “You’d look so good, full of my babies. Wanna breed you until you can’t even see straight.”

Your back arched off the bed, clenching around her. She sat up, mech thumb rubbing circles into your clit while her flesh hand pushed down on your tummy. The bulge of her dick poked up and she almost came just off the picture of it. “Fuck Vika,” you moaned as she hit the spongy spot that you needed her most. “Please cum in me,” you begged, reaching out to pull her in. “Please, please cum in me.”

“Filthy fucking princess,” Her pace quickened, “what would they think if they all saw you now? Begging to get your cunt filled like a dirty whore?” The tone switch had you screaming and scratching down her back. “Bet you’d like if everyone saw you like this.”

“Sev, please don’t stop I’m so close, please-" the air was punched out of you as she lifted you and flipped you, pushing down on the back of your throat to get you to arch. She was fucking you so hard that you could barely breath, using her grip around your throat to pull you back onto her dick.

Her hand came down on your ass, slapping it so hard that red bloomed in the shape of it. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, bunny,” she groaned, “thought about you every time I came.” You clenched so hard you worried she wouldn’t be able to thrust.

It wasn’t a lie, even though she was embarrassed to admit it. Your pretty lips and even prettier hips, always in dresses that fit you so well. There wasn’t a time where she didn’t look at you and think about taking you right then and there. At night, when the castle had quieted and she came in ropes to the scent of your panties on her face, she was disgusted in herself, but you were just so perfect.

She was done for when your little ‘uh uh uh’s started, pounding you so far into the mattress everyone in the castle could hear. “Vika, ‘m gonna-”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Come with me, make a mess, please,” you never thought that Sevika would be the type to beg and neither did she, but she needed you to come so bad it was all she could think about.

Your legs shook, coming so close to giving out that she had to hold you in place. You came with a snap in your stomach for what felt like an eternity, and Sevika was close behind you. She lifted you, pulling you against her chest as she continued fucking into you. “Can I cum in you?” she groaned. “Please, please I’ll be good, I’ll be nice, whatever you want just- fuck, let me fill you up.” You whimpered, soaking her dick.

“Yes, Vika, cum in me.” She pushed you back down and was coming seconds later, curses falling from her lips as she used you. It was truly a miracle how much she came, ropes and ropes coating you until you were swollen.

She pulled out and collapsed next to you, unable to hold herself up any longer. You flipped over and laid back, cum dripping out of you as you panted. When Sevika had regained conscious thought, she was quickly back between your legs, using her tongue as a means to clean you up. “You did so fucking good,” she mumbled as she left soft kisses across your thighs.

She got you a towel and clothes, cleaning you and dressing you like you were a doll. She didn’t leave, happily opting to lay in bed with you for the rest of the night. “I’m sorry for being so cold, princess. I figured you hated me for having you here.” You snuggled into her chest further.

“I did in the beginning, but I’m sure we’ll get along great eventually.” She kissed the top of your head, breathing slowly, and you laid like that until the both of you drifted off into sleep. Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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[abbyssgf]

—Not even on the cheek? (sevika x inexperienced reader)

no cw, pure fluff and crack. College modern au!

synopsis: Sevika meets you in college. If her fingers could talk, they’d have too many stories to tell: girls kissed, nights spent, burrowed somewhere you don’t want to know. And you? You invite her to eat cheap sandwiches on a skatepark ramp in the middle of a quiet park. And… She says yes. For some unknown reason. Then you tell her you’ve never kissed anyone before. Never dated. And Sevika, gruff, jaded, hopelessly gay Sevika, is speechless for the first time in years.

words: 1.7k

Sevika is… experienced.

She kissed too many girls in dimly lit bathrooms, backseats, alley corners outside campus bars. Slept with too many. Though, in fairness, it’s often the same handful of girls in rotation. The kind who know what they want, just like she does. She had her first time stupidly early, not in a particularly romantic way, just her and a girl her age, curiosity and way too many hormones and the thrill of doing something reckless in a bedroom that smelled like cheap vanilla lotion. Since then, she’s never really stopped, never saw the point in waiting.

It’s not like she set out to be a player or whatever, she just… didn’t care enough to complicate things. Sex was easy. Love? Way too messy. Too loud, too clingy, too many girls trying to fix her or change her or worse, cry in her mouth after twenty minutes of pretending to be cool about it.

… then she met you.

At some party her classmate drags her to at college. She’s buzzed and half-listening to a guy talk about his music taste (horrible), when she sees you across the room, head tilted, smiling at something stupid, cradling a plastic cup of soda. You don’t look bored, not exactly, but you don’t belong here either. You’re the kind of girl who says “oh, sorry” even when someone else steps on your foot.

The first time you talk, it’s short. You say “hi” in the hallway between lectures. You don’t linger. You don’t flirt. You don’t try to tell her she looks hot and then giggle. You just wave, say hi again the next time. And then again.

Which is… not surprising. But not usual either. So she starts to notice things.

First: she’s never seen you with a drink. Not once. Even at that party, it was soda. Always soda. No beer, no cocktails, not even a fake sip of wine to look cool and cough like a loser right after.

And Second: you’ve never batted an eye when she lights a cigarette outside the library. You never wrinkle your nose or wave the smoke away or go on a speech about lungs. But you also never ask to bum one either. Just… neutral. Which is weird.

You’re weird.

Because one afternoon, out of nowhere, you ask her:

“wanna get sandwiches and go for a long-ass walk through the park? We can sit around ‘til midnight or something”

And Sevika, someone who has never voluntarily walked anywhere longer than it takes to reach the bar or her bed or the gym, is already nodding before her brain catches up.

So now she’s sitting at the top of a skateboard ramp, some rusted old platform you climbed like it’s totally normal to picnic on top of warped concrete, chewing a mediocre sandwich and watching you sip warm lemonade like this is your dream date.

You’re kicking your feet back and forth, your hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, talking about anything and everything at the same time, until you say something that catch Sevika’s attention. Not that she wasn’t listening before, but now she’s… confused:

She blinks, frowns. Then:

“Wait… you’ve never dated?”

You don’t even flinch. You just look at her, blinking slow like she asked you a something obvious.

“Oh. Nah. Never kissed anyone either.”

And Sevika— Sevika, who’s had girls pin her to dorm walls and beg to call her baby like three days after meeting her, is just… staring at you.

Mouth full of tuna and mayo and confusion.

What the hell are you?

And you say it like it’s nothing.

Like you’re talking about your favorite makeup brand or the cats you pet sometimes. Just: ‘Never kissed anyone.’ and you go right back to eating chips like you didn’t just crack Sevika’s entire worldview in half.

She blinks once. Then again.

“…Not even a peck?” she asks, just to be sure.

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Her eyebrows twitch. “Not even a kiss on the cheek?”

“Oh. From friends, yeah,” you nod. “Like my roommate does that sometimes. But not like, romantic, y’know?”

Sevika is quiet for a full five seconds.

Her brain starts listing things that have touched her in deeply inappropriate ways. Hands, lips, teeth, half a bottle of whipped cream. A girl once blindfolded her with a scarf and whispered obscenity while doing something very illegal in Sevika’s pants. She’s had girls kiss her shoulders, her scars. She’s—

“Not even a hand on your ass?” she blurts out.

You snort. “Nope.”

“…Shit.”

It slips out of her like an exhale. Not even horrified, just stunned.

You tilt your head. “Why you looking at me like that?”

Sevika thinks just for a second. “Cause you’re—” She cuts herself off. “…serious.”

You blink once. Big eyes. Very serious indeed.

She stares at you. Your legs swinging against the edge of the ramp, your hoodie sleeve dragging in your lemonade. The way you hum while chewing like you don’t have a single cursed thing lurking in your past.

Meanwhile, Sevika’s memories are a swamp. Sticky. Dark. Full of terrible decisions and matching thigh tattoos.

You look over at her again, smiling. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

She stares down at her sandwich like it holds the answer.

“I’m just… realizing I might be a terrible… depraved… perverted woman.”

You laugh like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever said. And for some reason, that laugh? That stupid, sweet sound? She loves it more than any kiss.

You keep eating your chips, totally unaffected by her reaction at your confession. Meanwhile, Sevika hasn’t blinked in what feels like ten minutes, which is actually ten seconds. Her sandwich is forgotten on the concrete beside her, she’s staring at you like she can’t believe it.

And she can’t.

Because you’re pretty.

And not in a vague, compliment-polite way. You’re genuinely, soft-light-through-curtains-in-the-morning pretty. Sevika noticed that the first day she saw you, then in the lecture hall the few times you have class together. The way your mouth twitches when you try not to laugh, the way you brush your hair behind your ear when you’re focusing, the way you just take care of yourself and look good and take time to choose your outfits and jewelry.

So—how. How the hell has no one kissed you? No one touched you? No one even tried?

She grabs a cigarette from her pocket, sticks it between her lips out of habit more than need. The lighter hovers near her face, paused mid-flick.

“…You fucking with me or…?” she mumbles around the filter, eyes squinting slightly.

You snort, amused. “Nope.”

Flick. Flame. She lights it, takes a slow drag. Still doesn’t believe you, not really.

“I just never had the occasion,” you add with a shrug. Like the most normal thing in the world.

Sevika scoffs. Loud. Immediate. Instinctual.

“Bullshit.”

You laugh, actually laugh loudly, shortly, and it scrapes something warm down her spine. “I swear! I mean… I’ve seen girls I thought were pretty. But I never had a crush or anything. Nothing ever happened, y’know?”

Sevika goes still again. Because that word. That tiny, easy word.

Girls.

Not “people” or “someone.” or “I guess I’ll know when I meet the right guy.”

Just girls.

Oh.

In her head, a door creaks open, and inside it’s labeled: Girlkisser. Like me.

She takes another drag, doesn’t say anything, eoesn’t need to.

You just outed yourself in the most innocent way possible. And Sevika, who once had a girl moaning her name in a supply closet while a DJ set shook the walls, is now trying to act normal next to a girl who’s never even had her hand held… ‘romantically’, or not just in a friendly way.

She exhales smoke, eyes trained on the sky.

This was supposed to be a weird little sandwich hangout. So why the hell is her heart beating like she just got caught stealing something?

She steals another drag of her cigarette, then asks, voice low and lazy, “Ever smoked before?”

You wrinkle your nose. “No. Why bother? It burns my throat.”

That gets a hum out of her. She lets the smoke leak slowly through her teeth.

“Alcohol?”

“Tried a few sips,” you shrug. “From my friend’s glass. Hated it.”

Sevika looks at you. “Damn.”

And she means it. Not in a judgmental way, just genuinely baffled. You’re a walking contradiction. Everyone she knows drinks, smokes, kisses whoever’s warm and available. You? You’re untouched, unbothered. A complete blank slate in a hoodie and sneakers, sitting now cross-legged on a concrete ramp like you’ve been doing this your whole life.

She glances at your lips, just for a second.

She knows what lips feel like. Has kissed more mouths than she can count. Full lips, thin ones, lipgloss, cigarettes, piercings, mouths that tasted like vodka or gum or tears. She knows what kissing is. What it leads to. What it doesn’t mean, most of the time.

So why is she wondering what yours would feel like? She shouldn’t be. It’s just a mouth, just another girl. Just—

Her voice cuts through her own thoughts, casually now. A little teasing. The corner of her mouth quirks, and she looks at you through the smoke.

“So… you said girls. Not boys.”

You snort, eyes still on the sky, a slow smile pulling at your lips. Your cheeks warm, but you don’t flinch.

“Well,” you say lightly, “I’ve got zero experience, but I know I’m not into boys. For sure.”

Sevika exhales, and it’s not the cigarette this time. It’s amusement. And maybe something else.

Because yeah, okay. Girlkisser confirmed.

But also: shit. You’re cute.

Not in a friendly way. Not in a “someone should take care of her” way. In a “she’s never kissed anyone, and now I can’t stop thinking about kissing her” way.

Sevika leans back fully, one knee up, cigarette tucked between her fingers.

She looks over at you, your soft profile, your easy smile, and thinks,

“I’m so fucked.”

Yes, I’m writing a part two 🤭 FINALLY UPDATING WHATS UP DOC TONIGHT YOUHOU

taglist: @lonerslug @blessupblessup @riotstemple29 @archangeldyke-all @sevikasswifee @losernb, @sevikasrighttit @katarandaa @ahintofchaos @kittymrtnezz69 @arteemm @ferxanda

[abbyssgf]

Since its Sevika’s birthday today will you be writing a Sevika birthday special? 👀 possibly smut and or fluff with reader? If yes I was thinking reader surprises Sevika with a little dinner date at the restaurant where they had their first date. Then reader says she has one more surprise for Sevika and takes her home where theres cake and presents from everyone (Vi, Jinx, Ekko etc). After Sevika is forced to open presents (by reader ofc), reader says she has one more present for Sevika and comes out in lingerie 👀 the rest is up to you queen. IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS SO SPECIFIC AND DEMANDING I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK😞🙏🙏

I love it when it’s specific babe don’t worry 🫶🏻

—Birthday presents (sevika x reader)

fluff part — smut soon

words: 1.6k

no cw, this is pure fluff !! Smut part on @fraisescore soon

The engine shuts off, and you glance over to catch that familiar scowl—her usual mask when she’s unsure, but you know better by now. You know her too much she thinks it’s annoying sometimes.

Sevika eyes the restaurant in front of you, brows pulling together slightly as the sign above the door lights up in warm, golden lettering. It takes her all of two seconds before she exhales through her nose and mutters, “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning over to kiss the edge of her scarred cheek, right where the metal meets skin.

Her jaw tightens, but not in annoyance. You feel it when she squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“You remembered.”

“You think I forget anything about you?” you grin, already stepping out of the car and tugging at her fingers until she follows.

The restaurant hasn’t changed much since that first night, two years ago. Still dimly lit and full of amber glow, still a little too expensive for your budget back then, still the kind of place she had looked deeply uncomfortable in; collar too stiff, shoulders too broad for the delicate tablecloths. But she’d stayed the whole night. Because you’d asked her to. Because she had a crush on you.

Now, Sevika huffs like she’s unimpressed, but her hand doesn’t leave yours. Her thumb brushes over your knuckles as you lead her toward the host stand.

“Reservation for two,” you say brightly. “Under my name.” your tone is teasing, like you’re proud of yourself. And you are.

The host smiles and nods, tapping something into the screen. Sevika doesn’t say a word, but you can feel the weight of her eyes on you.

She’s suspicious. You’re enjoying this way too much.

When the host gestures for you to follow, you don’t wait. you take the lead again, winding through familiar tables until you stop at the far corner. The same booth. The same one you sat at on that first date. You’d been nervous, Sevika had looked like she was ready to fight someone just to avoid talking about her feelings, and now?

Now, she just stops short.

You don’t look back immediately, you want her to see it first. Want her to realize it’s not a coincidence. That you remembered. That you planned this.

When you do turn to her, Sevika’s expression is unreadable. Not cold. Not annoyed. Just still.

“This seat’s mine,” you say, slipping into your usual spot and patting the bench beside you.

She doesn’t speak, not yet, but when she sits, you feel her thigh press against yours, heavier than it needs to be. Her metal arm rests carefully on the table, fingers curled loosely, not gripping anything. But her other hand slides under the table and finds your knee, her thumb rubbing slow circles like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

You lean in again, nose brushing the line of her jaw.

“Happy birthday, baby.” you kiss her softly, like a smack. Just a brush of your lips against her skin.

She sighs again, like you’re exhausting. But you see the way her lips twitch.

“Dinner, huh?”

You grin. “Dinner first.”

She raises a brow, amused now. “There more?”

You just hum, tilting your head toward the wine list. “Eat first. I’m not done spoiling you yet.”

She rolls her eyes like she’s suffering, but her hand on your leg tightens again. Her way of saying she gets it. That she’s feeling all of it—and letting you know in her own quiet, Sevika way.

And when the waiter comes over, she lets you order first. She doesn’t even order for you this time like she always do.

By the time the drinks come out. something dark and bitter for her, something lighter and fruity for you. Sevika’s shoulders have relaxed just enough for you to notice.

Her posture’s still solid, still commanding, but she’s not scanning every corner of the restaurant anymore like she’s preparing for a bar fight. Her thigh stays warm against yours, her hand still on your leg under the table like it’s instinct. You know she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

You talk like you always do; fast, excited, every thought rolling into the next without much space to breathe.

She listens like she always does. quiet, a little unreadable, but completely focused on you.

It’s always been like this.

At first, you thought she was being cold or bored of you talking so much. She didn’t talk much, barely answered your questions to get to know her more… Turns out she was just focused and more of a listener than a yapper.

Which you were— definitely were. Still are.

“…and then I said—hey, are you even listening?” you grin, raising your brows at her.

Her mouth quirks into the smallest smirk. “You’re loud. Hard not to.”

“Charming,” you say, stabbing your fork into your food dramatically. “God forbid I try to entertain my girlfriend on her birthday.”

“It’s not that bad,” Sevika replies, and that’s about as effusive as she gets.

Still, her gaze lingers on you more often now. Less guarded. When you animatedly tell her a story about Jinx trying to teach Vi to roller-skate in the parking lot and ending up in a bush, Sevika huffs a quiet laugh into her glass. You catch it. You always do. You love it.

“You’re soft tonight,” you tease, nudging her boot under the table.

Sevika gives you a flat look. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay,” you nod, grin full of teeth. “Totally terrifying. My bad.”

She rolls her eyes, then scans the restaurant again. not tense, just… cautious. Her jaw shifts like she’s expecting something. From you.

Because you’re no better than Jinx. She learned that through the years of knowing and dating you.

You catch it right away.

“What?” you ask, leaning in. “You thought I’d humiliate you? Drag out a big sparkly cake and make the waiters sing for you?”

Sevika’s nostrils flare like she’s not not worried about that exact scenario.

You grin, resting your chin in your palm. “C’mon. I don’t hate you enough for that,”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Yet,” you amend with a cheeky smile. “Anyway, I promised I wouldn’t do anything cringey...” you start, and it’s suspicious enough for her to be worried. “But—don’t order dessert.”

That gets her attention.

Her eyes flick to yours, slow and deliberate. “Why not?”

You lean in like you’re telling her a secret. “Because it’s waiting for you at home.��

There’s a beat of silence. And then—

Sevika smiles.

Not a smirk. Not the sarcastic twitch of her mouth when you say something stupid. A real, rare smile—just enough to make her dimple peek through and her eyes soften. Like she’s actually letting herself feel it. Like she’s not trying to hide the fact that her heart’s doing that stupid, heavy thing again.

“You made it?”

You nod, pretending not to preen. “I did, ma’am. Took a few hours while you were at work.”

Her voice is quieter when she says, “You know I’d go on my knees for your baking, right?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

Sevika grins, amused and lazy, sipping from her glass like she didn’t just casually drop a line that could make you combust.

“You’re a lost cause,” you mutter, cheeks warm, grinning back.

“Mm,” she hums, smug. “Happy birthday to me.”

And when you laugh, too loud for a place like this, Sevika just watches you, something fond in the way she looks at you now. Like maybe she’s starting to believe that not every birthday has to suck. Not when it’s with you.

Even if… that poor, introvert, gruff woman doesn’t even know what’s waiting for her.

The ride back is quiet in that way it always is after you’ve managed to pull Sevika out of her stubborn shell. Her hand resting on your thigh while she drives, the city lights slipping over her face as she keeps one hand on the wheel, the other on you.

But then you pull into the driveway.

And the second the engine cuts, you both hear it.

Voices. Muffled laughter. Music, faint but distinct. The kind that only plays when someone’s hooked their phone up to your speakers. And through the curtains?

Light. Movement. Shadows crossing the window.

You glance at Sevika right as she mutters, low and full of dread: “Fuck me.”

Then, like she’s absolutely not doing this today, she turns away from the door and heads right back toward the car like she’s going to get in, start it, and drive away with no destination.

“Babe,” you say quickly, catching her arm.

“No.”

“Babe!”

“No.”

You spin her around before she can open the driver’s door, both hands planted on her chest to keep her in place. She’s warm under her jacket, solid and tense beneath your palms.

Her brows are already furrowed, lips tight. She’s bracing herself like she’s about to walk into a battlefield.

“They’re our friends, Vika” you murmur, stepping in closer. “Nobody’s gonna make you blow out candles or wear a birthday crown, I promise.”

Sevika says nothing, but her eye twitches in suspicion. She’s absolutely picturing the worst and she looks like she’s about to tell you about the betrayal, the non-existant toxic, manipulative side of your relationship just because you didn’t tell her there were people waiting in your house for her birthday.

You trail your fingers up the lapel of her jacket, voice going soft and sweet. “There’s cake. Your cake. I made it.”

Her brow lifts just a fraction.

“Blueberry chocolate,” you add, letting it dangle.

Now she really pauses.

You lean in, lips brushing her jaw. “I made it this morning. Just for you. Please.”

Sevika exhales through her nose. You’re not sure if it’s amusement or surrender.

“And there’s presents,” you whisper, watching her expression. “No loud ones. No glitter bombs. Ekko got you something cool as always. I told Jinx to behave.”

She still doesn’t look thrilled, but her hand reaches up to cover one of yours resting on her chest. Her fingers lace between yours, gently, like she’s grounding herself.

You grin, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Thank-you. For surviving another year with me.”

“That’s the easy part,” she says without thinking, and immediately regrets saying it out loud, judging by the way her jaw locks afterward.

You blink, surprised, then smile so wide it makes her scowl even harder.

“I’m gonna ignore how soft that was,” you tease, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door.

“Good.”

“But I heard it.”

“Shut up.”

“Say it again.”

Sevika groans, dragging her feet like a six-foot-tall teenager being forced to attend her own party, but she lets you lead her inside anyway.

And she doesn’t even flinch when the lights come on and the voices yell, “Happy birthday!”

She flinches. Not dramatically, just a small hitch in her shoulders, a slight narrowing of her eyes like she’s preparing for chaos.

Which, to be fair, is a reasonable instinct when your house is full of:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEFTI!” Jinx shrieks from atop the arm of your couch, tossing confetti that very clearly wasn’t cleared with you beforehand.

Vi, already halfway into a beer, hollers, “Hey, look who didn’t run away!”

Ekko grins from where he’s adjusting something in the kitchen. “I told them she’d bolt. Lost a bet.”

Sevika exhales slowly, clearly reconsidering all of her life choices.

You give her hand a squeeze. “Breathe. No crowns, remember?”

She grunts, gives you a death glare that doesn’t land, and lets you lead her inside.

The chaos is loud, disorganized, and so full of love that even Sevika’s frown can’t completely hold its shape. There’s music playing, Vi’s doing, obviously, and drinks flowing, and people tossing her casual “happy birthdays” as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like Sevika isn’t Sevika, famously grumpy and allergic to attention.

And the worst part?

They mean it.

You catch her looking around the room, at the people who showed up, the food someone (not you) burned a little, the beer that’s already going warm on the counter, and her mouth presses into a line, but her eyes soften.

There’s that shift again. That thing she does when she feels too much and doesn’t know where to put it.

Then comes the part she dreads.

“Presents!” Jinx yells.

“No,” Sevika says, without hesitation.

“Yes,” you say, louder.

Sevika glares at the pile of gift bags like they might be dangerous, explode even. Which is fair, because one of em is from Jinx.

She wants to die at first. Of embarrassment and something else she can’t really put words on.

But then… as she opens the presents, she doesn’t complain. Not once. Not even when Jinx tries to take a photo.

And then, finally, the moment you’ve been waiting for.

You disappear into the kitchen and return with the masterpiece: a dark chocolate blueberry cake, just the right amount of rustic and gorgeous, already sliced because you know Sevika would rather die than cut a cake in front of everyone.

You hand her a plate. She looks at it like it’s the only real gift she’s gotten all night. Of course it’s not.

Sevika stares at it.

Then she looks at you.

Then, without a word, she takes the fork and devours it.

Not dainty bites. Not polite nods of approval.

She annihilates that slice like it’s her last meal before death.

You grin so hard your cheeks hurt. Everyone start laughing, they can’t help it. The way she looks like she wants to merge in it is hilarious.

“You good?” you ask, resting your arms on her knees.

Sevika looks down at you, mouth full, and nods once.

It’s the most genuine, raw, honest thing you’ve seen from her all night.

“Best part of my birthday,” she mutters, eyes back on the plate, already going in for the next bite.

Your heart melts. You lean forward and kiss her knee through her jeans, because she’s too busy to kiss you on the lips right now.

“And I haven’t even given you my present yet,” you whisper.

And she pauses, then swallow, slowly.

…Fuck.

taglist: @lonerslug @blessupblessup @riotstemple29 @archangeldyke-all @sevikasswifee @losernb, @sevikasrighttit @katarandaa @ahintofchaos

the hour to post this is probably so shitty but heh I just woke up and this one have been waiting too long so

divider: @/cursed-carmine

[abbyssgf]

She looks soo good🤤

[abbyssgf]

Rewatched Brokeback Mountain and now all I can think about is cowgirl Abby so here you go!

[abbyssgf]

Wanna start a fight club?

Some 2XKO Vi sketches

[abbyssgf]

well... it's important to discuss sex boundaries with your girlfriend, right?

cw    #      eighteen+ as it contains smut, sevika getting handsy in public, positive sex talk (we <3 boundaries), nasty car sex, dry humping, some fingering, choking, spitting, situationship!vika that settles down as a loyal pet girlfriend, slight sub!vika (turns out i enjoy making muscular woman submit), shocking but this follows the og timeline, and it settles after the fuckery of arcane s2, right before she becomes a super hot member of the council, half alternative universe maybezzz? idk she owns a car now too, its important for the plot, mentions of jinx — wc: 5.7k

you knew things were going to be intense when you started seeing her again.

it's an on and off thing. sometimes she's there in your doorframe, pleading eyes asking if she could spend the night with you like a stray animal who has no home — she'd fuck you tenderly and kiss you until your lips are swollen, dirty talking in your ear until you're gripping the sheets there in your bed and her hand slips against your neck only to hold you in place, make you work for it.

sevika resembles to a dream.

other times, she's not around under the pretenses of not being good enough, about how she only brings trouble and aches, how you deserve more. she'd disappear for a while only to come back into the same circle, tending to her wounds, her rushes of physical need and that desperate need for love that gets her drunk on you, asking if you could just let her in.

"you smoke really cheap ass cigarettes for a woman this intimidating," lately however, she quit the bullshit for enough time to have you sitting on her right leg in that same old couch she loves to play poker in, spreading enough to not let anybody sit close to her, anyone but you at least — "invest in quality baby. you can get this in the market for what? some rusty silver cogs?"

"yeah? then why don't you buy a good brand for me, huh?" her hand slides right over your tummy, pushing you closer to her for a second as you try to light up her cigarette. it tingles against your skin — might be the cold or the way her fingers slide under your shirt to let the warmth of her touch radiate through your body as she stroke the expanses she's able to reach. "i thought you were going to take care of me, bunny- i mean, i got you wearing my cloak so you won't freeze, isn't that what a good girlfriend does?"

she's playing poker still, yet it catches you off guard: girlfriend. it's a simple word, but it makes your heart race at the implications of it. does it mean she's going to stick around? stay the damn day with you and stop fighting it? the pad of your fingers barely brushes against sevika's lips as you help her smoke when both of her hands are busy, but it's enough to have pure electricity going down your spine in response.

how is it so easy? drop a bomb like that as if it's nothing.

"your girlfriend?" sounds so nice when you say it, makes her duck her head against your neck like she's trying to commit that moment to her memory, your smell, the softness of your tummy in her flesh hand — "that's what you've been calling me lately?"

"mhm, do i have to explain any further on how you're my girl?" it's a simple answer that works for you as you stare at her game, helping your girl as you get more comfortable in her arms, relaxed: there you go. that's how she wants you to be.

you can smell the alcohol in her breath as she speaks, a light breeze that mixes up with the cheap tobacco you keep holding close to her mouth, already stained with the nude tone of your lipstick as you both share the deadly stick. your girlfriend's got a killer game there in her mechanic hand, fingers gripping on the cards as she looks devastatingly beautiful with that cocky smirk cause she knows she's going to win that round, the next, and the other one after that if she's got you by her side.

a little warning would be nice. some heads up. yet everything's like that with her, intense, intoxicating, good enough to have you sticking around without any possibility to ever doubt the depths of her emotions, not when sevika's always showing them in a way that makes you breathless. it's complicated and familiar, scary as she's all that you wanted, everything you lack and she has, all she's incomplete from and you owe to spare. strange pieces of a puzzle, comets that have the pleasure of meeting as they pass to different universes.

"what is it, cat got your tongue?" you like her smile when she's enjoying something, the gap tooth in the middle of it like a signature just as she blows the smoke in your direction — "need your lucky kiss to win, doll."

it's a good combination when your rum-stained lips leave a kiss to her whiskey-stained mouth. makes sevika sit still for a moment, as if the last drop only reduced to you and her, to your ass pressed against her belt and your round lips curved in the most beautiful smile. you and your kind words, you wrapped up in her red cloak cause it's cold and she doesn't want you to catch a cold thanks to her insensitive ass: your loyalty is her greatest possession, your love her most comfortable blanket.

the music's loud before she's winning again. a lucky span you indulge according to her point of view since you’re there and everything fits the way it should be. there’s a greedy amount of gold in her pocket because you kissed her cheek before every round, gave wise opinions on her cards since she taught you a lot about poker: can't have people trying to make you look dumb because of some numbers, baby. you are a natural lucky charm.

your girlfriend's handsy with you, how couldn’t she? looking like you do, half-lidded eyes caused by the alcohol, shirt crumbling against her hand, constantly massaging the flesh under; it’s hard not to get touchy, abuse of her rewards like any intelligent person would do. you have the most desirable reactions when she’s letting her fingers roam further up against your shirt curious now, aware of your pulse point shooting stupidly high when her hand cups your breast from over your bra before giving it a gentle squeeze. the cloak’s doing a good job in allowing her a nice access to your tits, your hips, the waistband of your skirt — why can't she just touch you like that in her favorite spot?

keep her fucking clothes, make them yours. use her shirts, steal her belts for your big pants you insist on wearing sometimes, it's all yours if you let her be all over. if you let her drag you to the last drop and listen to her corny jokes she thinks are funny, that random jealousy she's good to keep to herself when she's extra clingy. it's all normal now.

so sevika doesn't have enough hands to smoke by herself as you help her out with her tobacco. sitting in her lap, smoking from her cigarette and making choices for her game: is there any doubt you were hers anyway? makes sense to the entire club.

it's her way of marking you. when she gets bored of playing her card game and instead turns to leave the most gentle kisses on your neck, her recently trimmed hair makes you laugh as it tingles against the skin of your shoulder, yet she pays no attention to it, too distracted by the moan of surprise she manages to hear from over the music.

vika’s girl.

she makes sure everyone knows you’re her girl, off limits, always forbidden and her apple of sin, she wants everyone to know how you’re crazy about her, how you’d let yourself be touched at her will in a crowded bar. it would explain why she's so desperate about it, why her caresses linger for a second or two: vika's girl.

"we’re in public." it's hard to care about it. has she ever cared about the rest? about the public affectionate demonstrations of her infinite devotion to you? usually stoic, when was the last time anybody saw some sort of weak side with you on her hands? never. "sev- don't be mean."

mean — there's a current that always seems to drag you back to her, when she's plunging the strap into you so hard you end up scratching her back and leaving marks on it she'll wear under her shirt for the entire week, that's mean. the attitude you give her when you're extra mad at her, when she fucked it up so bad sevika has no choice but to endure the first ten minutes of a conversation in which you lecture her about her poor life choices. that's mean.

"i want to do things right with you." against the noise, you can hear it loud and clear even when she tries to muffle it against the inviting curve of your neck — "stop running away from us and do it like it's supposed to, nice and slow."

you try to find a rational explanation somehow, the whiskey, the emotion of winning so many matches of a game that secured her money with enough gold to avoid accepting that lame ass job she's been avoiding lately as a councilor, a list of motivations that lacked of sense when she's whispering the most sweet words against your skin, like a promise she want etched on your flesh by the end of the day.

"i want us to do it right, bunny. love you like no one else will do."

is it nice and slow when she's pulling you to her parked car a couple of streets away? sure. your own kind of nice and slow when the last drop's full, reeking of sweat and people trying to get in, full, yet nobody notices when she's leaving the place with her hand on your waist, the charged energy in the air that follows you and your girlfriend around like a thunder cloud in a much more positive sense.

sevika tries to take it slow, makes a lot of effort even when you lean against the counter waiting for her drink with a smile on her face. talking to the bartender, the workers know you and its a familiarity she craves, turns her on without return as you're sitting down again on her leg and your skirt rides just enough to show your thighs and it does it for her, this wave of belonging that makes her mouth water when she remembers who's the clothes you're wearing from, who's hand managed to unbuckle your bra with practiced ease, who got you all riled up.

"i want us to be like those couples who grow old together with a big cat and a pretty garden" she says as she pulls you down the street, the bustling sound of the last drop falling further away as she leads you back to her new car she's been waiting to show you— "i'll even cook you a warm meal if you behave."

"is that so? you'll be my handsome trophy wife, vik?" when did it shift to this? to this electric energy, a domestic bliss she hadn't experienced until you appeared in the picture "take my worries away every night like a good woman?"

there's no point in denying how much she enjoys it, how it makes sevika's heart beat to a speed inhumanly possible. she's not really used to it, to feel this freely, promise you such things that now escaped from her lips with such ease: she understands it now more than ever, those late nights walking back to your place, the need to keep you as a secret, a glimpse of what she could have in her life if it wasn't so complicated.

maybe now that jinx's gone she deserves some love, that glow that comes to her life like sun rays that slipped past a half-opened blind and keeps the room warm in winter, maybe now she's alone she deserves this, the love, the company. lately, sevika's slowly realizing she might not be as bad as the picture she painted in her mind.

if she wants your well-being, if she wishes the best for you, your happiness and success, isn't she good for you? enough to kiss you every morning?

that's how you slip. now that her business is clean and she's taking care of the last drop, people's not trying to randomly kill her, don't look at her like the menace she used to be. now that she has gained some respect: maybe she is exactly what you need.

nice and slow. keep it nice and slow when she's showing you her most recent possession, a relic as sevika repeats over and over again before she's pulling you back to the passenger seat as quickly as she lets you see it from the outside — truth be told, in her black dodge charger, she can't fight against it.

fuck it.

she has so little self-control it would be embarrassing if sevika didn't knew you from before, a problem if she cared about it; but it's late at night, the streets are still a dessert, and beneath the neon lights she wants to feel it, that drowning kindness she used to repel, your kisses when your lips send the most pleasant shivers down her spine every time she's alone with you and you treat the sensitive flesh of her shoulder with a care that makes her stomach tie in knots.

she missed you. missed the weight of your body against her own as she pulls you to her lap, the sound of your laugh and that smirk on your face when you got her right where you want her to be. she missed the domesticity, your gorgeous face when you know you're right.

"yeah i'll be your trophy wife" sevika jokes, your legs straddle her just right in her seat now that she pulled the lever on the side to make enough room to have you on top of her comfortably. "i'm good with following orders around. you’d be surprised, peach."

back pressing against the wheel, you're careful not to lean so much now that she's turning the engine on, and you can experience the vibration of the motor in your legs. cocky smirk, she's proud of showing you something so important, something that makes her feel proud. she's been working secretly in this car for about what? an entire year? she's not the best in the mechanic field-- yet she wanted to do something else more than just violence.

"do you like it?"

"what thing?" you play coy for a second, and she would be lying if not admitting how it pleases her when you're confident like that, the tone she���s already fond of, "the car or the view beneath me?"

maybe it's the honey whiskey. how you play with her black shirt and trace the lines of her stomach down to where you're seated with curious hands, it makes her feel like she's fifteen again, love like a teenager who just learned how to feel.

"well if you care to share…"

"i like the car yes, but i like you better."

so sevika keeps falling to her knees. a prime weakness like kryptonite as her hands wrap around your waist. you look like a goddess and you give her no other choice but to bask in your glory, the fond smile that creeps across her lips as they’re pulled in a genuine grin: when was the last time she smiled like this? the town was falling apart no less than two weeks ago but today? today she belongs to the stars, to your electric touch and that string of kisses you leave against the curve of her neck like soldiers that follow a path across her skin. bullets of insatiable love, gasoline injected into the heart.

"promise me you wont disappear out of nowhere, you wont regret me like you always do," gray eyes, they sallow yours as she presses her forehead against your own. "i need something serious, know that you won't leave when it gets too personal, sev."

"that's not true, i've never regretted you. not once in my life," it may not be much, but each kiss sevika leaves in your neck marks down a promise that binds her heart to you. "don't talk about things you don't know about."

"you know what i mean vik."

"i do," the distance narrows to an inexistent point when the small space seems to be perfect to become intimate, a private moment where nothing else matters, nothing but her. "i'm not good with this, but i'll try. i don't want to leave anymore, personal or not."

to be fair, sevika doesn't want to mention much about the fact that it got personal already without you realizing. linger on the fact that she knows you more than you let most people know, the food you dislike, how you enjoy your coffee in the morning and the way your breathing seems to get lost in her lungs with each kiss she has given you.

"i promise, no leaving even when it gets messy." she meant every word of it, a promise she declares with all the loyalty left in her heart. "you'll have to deal with me too, so you don't get to leave either."

"is that a promise or a threat?"

"atta girl," she makes the most pleasant sounds when laughing, carefree, it doesn't matter when it's you and no one else — "i'll consider it a threat if i were you."

how could you ever take it as a threat if she places the most sweet-tempered kisses on top of your lips? when she's bad at saying what she feels but makes sure to demonstrate it in her devoted touch, her starving-like need that settles in her lips with every feverish peck.

you moan against her lips cause you're sensitive in her hands, never was before until she came into the picture, able to detonate any barrier you ever make and turn it into ashes. sevika's hands grip the sides of your waist and it's good, it inebriates every rational thought until you're grinding against her pants without thinking about how you're in a car still, rubbing yourself against a belt your girlfriend wishes wasn't in the way.

"limits," as her hand caresses your thigh in invisible patterns, she forces herself to say it a couple of times in her head: nice and slow, fucking nice, but dry humping is not slow. "why don't we discuss those limits you always talk about?"

"here?"

"mhm, anywhere works out for me" she gets distracted for a second on how the skirt you're wearing rides upwards against your muscles, dangerously close to your underwear as you insist on pulling it down even when it's not much of help. "tell me about your limits, distract me from fucking you in my car so we can go slow."

"i don't know what to say when you put it that way." you seemed to think for a second,trying to come up with something clever enough, yet she's too busy already getting you out of her cloak. "maybe you can start leaving clean shirts at my place?"

"wow sweetheart, that's such an important limit to talk about. i'm impressed."

"then what are your limits huh?" it's kind of difficult to have your brain cells produce a somehow coherent thought, not when your brain seems to shut for a good handful of seconds as sevika keeps kissing you, teeth scraping against your collarbone, following a much bolder path now that her try of distraction utterly fails. "enlighten me if you're so good at it."

"i don't care about those kinds of limits, peach. i'll leave my toothbrush if it makes you happy" she's the one that's unable to create a rational strain of thought now, deeply unaware of their surroundings when her hands are raising the fabric of your shirt right from over your chest. "if none comes to your mind, we should be discussing other topics."

"other topics like what?"

it has to do with the constant grinding, the moans you try to muffle when your hips undulate almost in a non-existent way of seeking for any release of the pressure holding between your legs. you do a good job in pretending you're okay, that you're not flustered as her hands help you move without getting tired, the fabric of her pants that crushes against the flimsy cotton of your panties. your voice's not really strained, your breathing's not racing against her own but she knows you're affected, affected as you stare at her through half-lidded eyes.

"for example," it's obvious for your girlfriend when her hand manages to knead your breast between her fingers, fight against your bra as she speaks — "are you comfortable with me biting you until my teeth leave a mark on your skin?"

"yes," it doesn't take much time to answer. your voice is charged with a different emotion and it's not like the other times before; you've fucked sevika multiple times before in what it seems to be a constant dance in which you know what she needs without saying it and vice versa, but now? now it was vocal, a silent invitation to do something new, test limits. "yes i'm comfortable with it."

so her teeth bite the skin beneath your breast, right above your ribs she manages to leave a mark that makes you arch against her mouth, curve to fit her demanding touch and it makes you shiver, close your eyes for a second at the overwhelming heat that the pain brings, the soothing, wet trace her tongue leaves moments after to calm down the pulsating agony, the new mark that's visible at plain sight.

"are you comfortable with some choking?"

"you know i am."

"i know you do, pretty girl" you're so willing to comply, so docile to her wishes it got sevika's mind spinning on its own, clouded by a desire you keep fueling as your hips ground themselves faster against her pants, your skirt now crumpling in your belly as you don't care about pulling it down anymore — "but you have to use your words this time, we're gotta' be serious about boundaries huh? take them to the heart."

the lack of oxygen only adds to your lust, a blurring desire that allows you to forget you're half-naked in a car, how anyone could walk and see what love's capable of doing to you without a second thought, how sevika's able to strip you from any coherence as she's the only one thing left in your mind that seems to make sense.

she's choking you with subtle force when her hips lift up to meet with your cunt. soaked now, all this time she was trying not to look down only to urge her further now, crazier than sevika ever was when your girlfriend's able to distinguish the damp spot on your panties that only grew bigger with every question.

"are you comfortable with fucking in public?" she's refraining from touching, encouraging you to keep moving, soak up her jeans and make them change color like your underwear did, grind until you finally cum — "matter of fact, am i allowed to fuck you in my car?"

the answer at this point borders on the obvious. she's pushing you to get off without her help, manipulate you to the point you'll have to speak and admit it, let her screw that stupid nice and slow mantra to give you what you need instead, as if you haven't been properly touched over the decades, as if her hands are the only span of love you've ever experienced in your existence like short glimpses of heaven.

"answer me baby. it's not that hard."

the metal of her digits tightens in your neck like a reminder you're alive, that you're still in the moment and your girlfriend's demanding for answers — "yes, yes- go ahead and fuck me in your car."

those are good limits. when sevika's kisses are clumsy, teeth visible in some spots of your body similar to medals you want to carry; rough but not in a way of wishing to hurt you, but in a way that mirrors the depths of her desperation of bringing you closer, annihilate every single unit of measurement until physics itself has to come up with a new concept that managed to be strong to resist her love, this maddening urge to be near you.

she makes it look so simple when using her mechanic hand to pull your underwear to the side, allowing you to breathe as she bares the gift she worked so hard to get since she ended up playing poker with you seated on her leg, groping your tits in secret and dressing you up in her clothes like a doll. you're soaked under her scrutinizing gaze, glistening under the poorly-illuminated streetlights only to have your girlfriend's mouth go dry at the lewd sound your body produces when your underwear seems to stick to your neglected cunt, overwhelming her with pure ardour.

maybe taking you to her car was different from what she had in mind first, a victim of nice and slow; must be the only answer when sevika's playing with your cunt in a way that only she knows you like, irreverent touches when she uses a couple of fingers to slide them from your tight hole to your hooded clit, teasing how soaked you really are as you coat her fingers with slick, transparent arousal.

"i get why your limits are so important, in fact, they are rather appealing now" she can't help but teasing you at this point, when your movements are desperate enough to become erratic and her fingers circle against your g-spot in hopes to see the planet burn, the entire world reduced to flames and chaos if that means you'll get to cum on her hand — "you comfortable like this? kind of trying to fuck your pretty little mind full of me."

"please stop talking and just do it-"

"what about spit?"

"vika--"

"isn't this doing it correctly?" her smile is one of triumph when she says it, when your girlfriend notices the subtle desperation in your voice and it's like tasting the sweetest ambrosia. "nu-uh sweet girl. if you want me to do filth with you, give me your permission."

"please," she likes now that the space is small, intimate, how it borders on the public as sevika's saliva coats her fingers now with a fluid that mixes deliciously between your legs. it's insanely good when your girl's spreading you at her liking, thick digits that sink down slowly to fill the brim, full until her knuckles soak down with your arousal and she's experiencing the tight squeeze of your insides, the need to draw her deeper before a pout forms on your lips — "please- please i can take filthy-"

"i know you can, you're such a perfect girl for me" she knows you too well, knows where to hit every time her fingers withdraw entirely from your heat and sink once again, forcing you to make room for her in a relentless pace. "that's it, make room for my fingers, you're such a slut loving how they spread you open, huh?"

it's impossible to think you'll be able to speak when you're riding her fingers, sweaty as you chase the lust in a race that never ends. sevika's voice is rough when praising you, words that slurred together as her mechanic fingers grip in your thigh painfully, leaving their mark without you noticing.

the air's hot and it makes your girlfriend dizzy, drunk on the sight of your body, your unfocused gaze and that glimmer that makes you look ethereal, luscious and her biggest delight. your moans charge the air among the wet slaps of her hand keeping you complete, and it's a new kind of paradise as the windows begin to get foggy, the condensation of your body temperature only rising further.

it's always you and her. you gripping on the handle in the rooftop, her sanctifying you to death, you being careful of not hitting your head on the ceiling with every thrust that makes your tits bounce, her fingers curving to rub on that nice spot just how you like it — it's you and your girlfriend when her lips latch to your stiffed nipple, tongue swirling against the hard peak; you and your girl when she's taking her time in pleasing you, in making you her own.

the scar on her cheek glows in the dark in a beautiful shade of blue, and your thumb traces the once wounded flesh with a tender touch, muttering the most simple: "i-ngh-i love you, vik."

it’s beautiful to experience it, the fulfillment of your feelings, the warmth on each touch. sevika's built for it, contrary to any belief she's made for your love, your simple way of seeing things, of melting in her arms. she’s built to see you have a mind-blowing orgasm in her new car, melt you with shattering desire and put you back together, take you home and sleep right next to you.

"i love you too, peach" it’s almost embarrassing to say yet it feels correct, like a secret she kept for too long that’s now itching to get out. "c’mon, i want to smell you here for weeks, yeah?"

she can tell you’re close now, your face contorting in distortion sevika's proud of bringing, gripping her fingers so tight she has no choice but to look at how your cunt sucks her deeper inside, gushing with your orgasm next to a loud sound that randomly comes out when you lean against the horn.

it doesn't matter anyway, the noise or whatever it is. nothing can break down the bubble you've created with your girlfriend, the shared whispers, the caresses and the promises of devotion, the consuming love that settles in your stomach and destroys all that’s known. you cum and sevika wishes to make it last forever, your body shakes involuntarily and you moan out her name like a prayer only she can hear, a nice reminder of how you’re hers.

it takes a while for you to understand what’s going on, you’re too down in the bliss, drowning in her smell, and the way your skin sticks to sevika’s brown flesh, how it makes her glow in a new glory. the colors of the sky warm up to a mellow orange, the purple of the dawn appearing before the first rays of sunshine begin to mix with the night, perfection.

it resembles to what she shares with you. when the sun kisses the night in sporadic pecks, when it tries to blend with the darkness only to end up utterly devoured, consumed until there’s only light.

so she kisses you in the silence of paradise, takes her time until your thoughts become normal again, until there's some rationality left in your head — your girlfriend keeps you close, hugging you back to her body, pressing gentle kisses on the curve of your neck, hers, you're hers.

turns out sevika got everything she needs, her girl and her car.

"you okay?" she asks, her flesh hand trace circles in your lower back since she can't help but love the moments like that, the afterwards when you're tired, trying to catch your breath, vulnerable and latching onto her like you need a hug to regain any kind of force, come back to planet earth, runeterra, her arms.

"yeah-- still alive here."

"good, i don't want you dying before i get you to my place."

comments like that make you chuckle, a low rumble that comes from your chest before you're pushing on your shirt down to where it was before, disheveled still, sevika recognizes that satisfied look you've given her before — "and what makes you think i'll be going to your place? really bold to assume it."

"i'm not done with discussing limits," she shakes her head this time, helping you to get your underwear back to it's original place even when it's soaking wet, and at this point? it don't matter at all. "there's a lot to discuss, what about tying you up? you comfortable with ropes?"

"are you serious right now?"

"hell yeah, peach" sevika declares with a genuine laugh— "can i blindfold you? what about spanks? including pussy spanks, surely-"

"well i'm certainly not opposed to it, never tried it before."

"what? you haven't?"

impossible. it's impossible not to fall in love with your girlfriend when she's like that, when you're sitting right next to her and she keeps her hand on your leg now, squeezing it every once in a while as she talks about the kid and jinx now that everything's over. she's hurt. you can tell, but a hurt that's willing to heal somehow.

your girlfriend.

you let her drive you back to her lair, let you love her like only you can in a place full of ghosts, spend the night tangled in whatever you share with none other than sevika: how was it? right... you always knew things were going to be intense when you started seeing her again, but to be honest? it was about damn fucking time.

you're in love with the mess. it's clear you've always been — and she's right too, you're very lucky in the end.

[abbyssgf]

Sevika as a Mom

SYNOPSIS: Just some cute head canons for if you and Sevika were parents :)

WARNINGS: pure fluff, mom sevika, reader (or sevika) could've gotten pregnant or you guys' could've adopted (its up to you)

WORD COUNT: 0.5k

A/N: I loveeee some sevika fluff omfg

dividers made by @/bbyg4rlhelps

Sevika as a Mom who will lecture your children, but will never EVER lay a hand on them. She would risk it all for you and your family. She would rather die than even consider laying a hand on you or your children. She may be an aggressive woman, but she would never harm those she loves dearly.

Sevika as a Mom who would never admit to you that she enjoys when your children “force” her to read them bedtime stories before bed time. Sometimes she will fall asleep snuggled up with them late at night. When you ask her where she was last night she will say that your children “wanted her there”

Sevika as a Mom who will scare your children into listening to you when they’re being stubborn.

Children: Mom!! I don’t want to go to bed yet!

Sevika: [Simply just glares at them]

Children: [Runs upstairs into the bathroom to brush their teeth to get ready for bed]

Sevika as a Mom who will purposely lose play fights with your children to make them feel better. She will even go so far as to play dead so they really extra victorious that they’ve won against their mama. Sevika loves hearing the excitement and giggles after they’re convinced that they’ve won.

Sevika as a Mom who was became so sentimental the moment you guys had your first child. As she held your child for your first time, she felt like she wasn’t just the big scary lady that everyone made her out to be. She felt like she was something more than that; someone who can love and be loved. You saw her eyes sparkle in the way that they sparkled on your guys’ wedding day.

Sevika as a Mom who panicked the first time she was left alone with your crying child. She desperately called for Jinx - who then made fun of her for not knowing what to do. Sevika, not knowing what to do, just did everything she learned from reading countless baby books, watching an insane amount of YouTube videos and searching for every kind of article possible; all of that, only to find out that they were uncomfortable with the baby blanket that Sevika had put on them since it wasn’t their favourite one.

Sevika as a Mom who was scared that she’d crush your children if she ever attempted to cradle them with her mechanical copper arm. So, she grew into the habit of taking it off when she came home from council meetings and instead wore a prosthetic that had no extra “Jinx-details” as Sevika calls them. She only wears her other arm when she leaves the comfort of your guys’ warm and cozy home; she does this to mainly intimidate people.

Sevika as a Mom who calls your kid nicknames like kiddo, buddy, bud, or some shortened version of their name that she comes up with. She doesn’t bother with nicknames like honey, sweetie, sweetheart, or anything cute like that. She reserves the cuter and more lovey dovey nicknames for you instead.

Comment if you want to be added to my taglist :)

@poeticrenaissance

[abbyssgf]

butch teddy bears 🧸

[abbyssgf]

can u please do more sugar mommy abby x reader, those are so fun

⋮ ⌗ GIVE MOMMY SOME SUGAR ! ⋆ ˚࿔

⋮ ⌗ A. ANDERSON X READER SMAU WATCH OUT: none

[abbyssgf]

Sevika study

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I wish they gave her the attention she deserved on season 2

[abbyssgf]

one armed lesbian yapping

Men DNI/Don’t repost, yada yada <3

[abbyssgf]

college au abby!

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Vi try not to have a fuckass haircut challenge level impossible

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i know it fits 😛

[abbyssgf]

save a horse, ride a cowgirl