parkersgarage

[parkersgarage]

Ooh why are my bloodhounds fics getting an increase in notes recently … did I miss something?? Are we rewatching?? Watching for the first time?? New season dropped and I was somehow not aware!!??

[parkersgarage]

I hate writing for fandoms late 💔💔like I watched twisters right when it came out and didn’t write for it until now and it’s DEAD on here 😭😭

[parkersgarage]

a/n: I went down a rabbit hole after getting two (2) edits of him. I don’t wanna talk about it 😭

scott miller x gn!reader | 846 wc | warnings: alcohol, unrequited love (past) not very proofread (I was half asleep)

Scott was never a man of many words, at least none that weren’t snarky comebacks, snide comments, or blatant orders. But he was your best friend, at least in some way. After Javi went back to miami you didn’t have anyone. Kate was gone, but you’d never truly felt connected with her as much as everyone else.

You’d met Scott near the end of college at a joint conference between schools. He’d commented about your presentation and how it lacked unbiased opinion, to which you responded about his lack of real-world experience. 

Scott was the person you clung to throughout the loneliest chapter of your life, and he was okay with that. 

He’d heard about your stories, the tornado that tore your life apart, the unrequited feelings you had for his new business partner, who he’d had no idea was the same guy until he introduced you two. 

Since he wasn’t a talker, it made him an observer. He studied the way you reacted the moment you had your eyes on Javi, then the click in Javi’s eyes when he realized it was you that Scott was introducing him to. 

“You two know each other?” He’d asked, even if he knew the answer already. 

“This is the friend I talked about, the one that didn’t wear pants.” Javi rolls his eyes at his embarrassing legacy and curses at the fact his new business partner knows it. “Scotty didn’t tell me anything about his new endeavors, let alone who he was working with.” You spare a glance in his direction when he clears his throat, muttering ‘Scott’ under his breath. 

“He didn’t mention anything about you either.” 

Scott remained indifferent, he’d mastered his facade of not giving a damn, but there’s something about the way Javi is looking at you that irks him. 

Whatever. It’s not important. 

The next day, night he should say, since you spent nearly all day catching up with Javi since they didn’t need to do any work today. Scott sits mindlessly on the couch watching god knows what, with a beer in hand that nearly slips out of his grip when you walk in. There’s a wistful smile on your face as you talk about how Javi was such a gentleman or how Javi was so attentive, and how handsome Javi looked in his sweater. 

Scott listens wordlessly, it’s what he’s known for. It’s what he’s here for. But as much as he was an observer, you were too. 

“Are you okay, Scott?” You ask softly, settling on the couch beside him. Your eyes shoot down to the bottle in his hand, then to the few on the table. “You don’t usually drink this much.” Then you glance at the clock, furrowing your brows when you look at him. “And you’re usually in bed by this time.”

He lets you take the bottle from his hand, and lets himself fall into you, he’ll blame it on being drunk. “Was waiting for you to come home.” 

“Oh, Scotty.” Something in your heart melts at his words, more from the way he’s started to cling onto you. “You didn’t have to do that, you’ll be tired in the morning. Especially with how much you’ve had to drink.” 

“Do you still love Javi?” 

His question catches you off guard, the hand that was running through his hair hovers above him now. “I don't know.” You think about today, how he was all those things you said before but during conversations there were too many mentions of Kate. 

Kate changed her hair. Kate was impressed by his change. Kate this. Kate that. Kate. 

You figured Scott was feeling the same way as you with Javi. He doesn’t get drunk off a few beers, his cheeks would’ve been flushed red but they’re as clear as day. 

“I think I just wanted to see if there was a chance, but as much as I wanted to hold onto him, I knew I had to let him go eventually.” 

There wasn’t warmth when Javi guided you into the restaurant with his hand on your back, nor when he looked at you from across the table and held your hand for a moment. 

But with Scott you always felt that. You always felt the rush of warmth whenever he complimented you, it was rare and usually disguised as an insult but you knew what he meant. Everything he did for you was kept close to your heart. 

“You should get some sleep, Scotty.” You whisper, pulling his head off your shoulder gently. “You’ve got an early start tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t protest, he never does, not when it comes to you. He lets you pull him up by the arm, lets you guide him towards his room, even lets you throw the covers over him. He’d never admit how much he loved when you took care of him, let alone how much you meant to him. 

Because Scott was the person you clung to throughout the loneliest chapter of your life, and he had to be okay with being just that.

[parkersgarage]

Having the date published thing on is so funny cause why am I embarrassed liking something from 2 months ago

[parkersgarage]

You guys are never gonna believe this

Just watched twister, sorry kdrama folks I’m about to get insufferable and talk about glen powell again 🙏

[parkersgarage]

a/n: old(ish) draft, hello 🥸

caitlyn kirraman x gn!reader | 455 wc | warnings: alcohol, during count fagula arc 🥸

“My god.” You turn lazily at the voice, posh and saccharine– yet, in this case, it’s harsh.

Caitlyn stands over your slouched figure, fingers gripping the rim of the bottle of rum you lazily held onto. She scoffs at the feeble attempt to take it back and shakes her head when you cave in on yourself.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, drinking every last ounce of liquor you could snag in this alley?” She asks, scoffing again at the amount of alcohol you’ve drank.

“Do you still love me?” You slur. You were drunk out of your mind, but you could still handle the truth this conversation might bring.

Caitlyn’s face doesn’t hold an ounce of sympathy when she looks at you. You start to wonder, when did it all go wrong between you two? She sits beside you, picking at the soggy garbage around you– she must genuinely think you’ve hit rock bottom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A low, frustrated groan goes past your lips and bounces off the walls at her words. How could she not!

“I haven’t seen you at home recently.” You say, blinking harshly at the sun poking out through the cracks of the buildings. Have you really spent the whole night drinking in some random alley?

She looks away when you catch her gaze for a second. She used to hold it for as long as possible until one of you cracked and looked away bashfully. Used to. “We’re at war–”

“No, you’re starting a war.” You cut her off. “Ambessa is starting a war, not us.”

“Well, “ She scoffs, “Of course, you aren’t,” she snaps, picking herself off the ground and gesturing to the miscellaneous bottles surrounding you. “You’re too busy getting drunk and holding bottles for warmth.”

“Warmer than you’ve been these past months.” You retaliate, shaking your head when she takes a step back. “Seriously, I don’t know why we haven’t broken things off yet. You’ve been nothing but distant and cold to me this recently. And I understand you’re grieving, but starting a war, Caitlyn?”

She tries not to cringe at the use of her first name. She was so used to you calling her anything but. Wanting to call her something no one else had. “That’s not fair.”

“Right,” you scoff, pushing yourself up. “When it goes against you, nothing is ever fair.”

“Wait—” her fingers wrap loosely around your wrist. If she wanted you to stay, she’d hold on tighter.

“I don’t care anymore, Caitlyn.” You mumble, shaking your hand out of her grip easily. “Just leave me alone.” As your figure fades further and further from her sight, she doesn’t feel that dull heartache in her chest.

[parkersgarage]

So everyone else had a writing high then came back to reality

[parkersgarage]

How tf do I stay calm after my gf just have herself an undercut

[parkersgarage]

yours ✦છ

arcane: sevika x gn!reader

contents: implied nsfw <3 [500 words] @parkersgarage for you!

IN WHICH: you see a glimpse into your nights together

❝ venus made you just to trick me ❞

“You sleepy, angel face?”

It was soft, Sevika's hushed words roughly tumbling from her pursed lips for a moment as you had been sitting contently in the warmth of her lap. The apartment was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint, blinking of Zaun’s neon lights filtering through the cracked blinds. The city’s perpetual hum—machinery grinding, steam hissing, and distant shouts—felt muted here, cushioned by the worn walls and the faint haze of lingering smoke. The air was tinged with the faint metallic tang of oil and something softer, like gin and stale perfume, blending into a sweet scent.

The bed wasn’t much, a simple frame shoved into the corner, its mattress sagging slightly in the middle. The sheets were tangled and pooled around your hips, the fabric warm from shared heat and slightly frayed at the edges. The pillows beneath you were mismatched, one lumpy and overused, the other slightly stained but soft, cradling into Sevika’s head as she leaned against the creaking headboard.

She brought the tip of her lingering finger to the edge of your soft lashes, contently fluttering to remain open against the firm touch of her toned chest.

Your warm fingertips quietly trailed down the side of her face, pressing soft messy kisses down the side of her neck for a moment- the comforting faint scent of smoke staining her skin, a light smile tugging at the edge of your curled lips at the quiet sigh that hummed out from the tip of her tongue.

Her mechanical hand slightly pinched the sides of your cheeks with a light cool touch, bringing your parted lips close enough for her to warmly press a kiss onto them. The coldness of the touch made you shiver- A quiet breath lingered on the edge of her mouth, your hitched sigh contently leaning further into the forever sweet yet intoxicating taste of bubbling gin.

You sat nestled further into her lap, the weight of her broad frame beneath you steady and secure. Her bandaged chest rose and fell against your smooth frame, and the faint scent of smoke clung to her skin, mixing with the sweetness of your presence. Her warm hand yet calloused, ghosted over your waist, the pads of her smooth fingers tracing lazy patterns against your wrinkled-up shirt, brushing just above the line of your stomach.

She liked doing that- Softly whispering, “I love you” into the warmth of your skin for a brief second with every touch that she managed to gingerly sneak. A secret that remained just between the both of you on each other's pursed lips with each night you shared together.

Her thumb traced the curve of your cheek a final "I love you," pressed on your burning skin- her voice barely audible, words only meant only for you. She roughly tucked her face into the crook of your neck for a moment longer, her firm lips brushing the sensitive skin there as her heavy mechanical fingers tightened just slightly, possessively, around the cinch of your waist.

It was a little way of showing her want towards you.

You were hers.

And she was yours.

a/n: i am so unhinged right now guys pls stop me

[parkersgarage]

So Pretty ✦છ

arcane: vi x gn!reader

contents: cursing, mentions of violence [800 words, unedited]

IN WHICH: vi thinks you are pretty.

❝ babygirl, you are so pretty, pretty pretty❞

God, you are so pretty.

It was the first thing Vi thought when she saw you for the first time. 

You were getting ready to fight- sitting on a little wooden stool while chatting with someone at the very edge of the ring. Spectators packed into the cramped space, jostling for a better view. The heavy swirls of smoke hung in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and metallic echoes of shouts and coin tosses. People were screaming their bets, their loud ass voices merging into a deafening roar as the fighters before the two of you squared off in the center of the pit.

She thought it with the way you entered into the arena with a slight squint at the roar of the audience at your entrance, your curled-up hands neatly bandaged up over your knuckles. You were standing by a circle of worn-out ropes strung between rusted metal posts, barely glancing at the strain of countless brutal clashes and sloppy curses tossed at the middle of the ring. The floor was a patchwork of scuffed concrete and bloodstains, some fresh, others darkened with time- 

Vi watched you- how a few dim industrial lights flickered, casting uneven shadows that danced across the scent of spilling booze lingering across your skin. Even with how the light was uneven and dim in some corners while other spots gleamed with the harshness of exposed bulbs-

You still looked almost out of place. Too pretty. Especially against the low hum of machinery, the clanking of pipes, and the occasional whir of gears in the distance formed a constant, unnerving backdrop to the screams unfolding below.

You looked like a little deer in headlights.

It almost felt unfair to fight you. The more merciful option would be to let you down easily, save you the embarrassment.

She thought it when the scent of sweat lingered in the stuffy air and the sudden clattering of gambling chips being tossed lazily across the surfaces of the wooden tables surrounding your fight.

She thought it when your pretty knuckles suddenly hit the side of her face during the fight you two shared, repeatedly bashing the side of her bruised cheek into the familiar scent of the ground and nearly knocking the fucking wind out of her- the stale taste of blood messily trickling down her scarred bottom lip.

Your punch had sent a sharp ass crack that echoed in her flushed ears, the impact sending her head snapping to the side. Her pale cheek stung, the heavy heat of the blow blossoming into a bruise she’d probably feel for fucking days.

But even through the burning ringing in her ears, all she could think about was how she wanted to remember the sting. Remember you.

She thought it when she grabbed a fistful of that pretty hair of yours between her curled fingertips, the end of her knee tightly pressing into your tightened chest as her bandaged chest heavily heaved with the slight blood that smeared across her pale knuckles.

Her dark hair clung to her face in damp strands, framing sharp features streaked with blood and dirt. The faint glow of the dim industrial lights flickered across her pale skin, highlighting the angry flush of exertion on her cheeks and the slight quiver in her clenched jaw. Blood, vivid and fresh, dripped lazily from a cut above her eyebrow, smearing down one side of her face and mixing with the grime.

Her chest rose and fell heavily with each ragged breath, the stained bandages around her knuckles straining as she gripped the fabric of your tattered shirt. Her soft blue eyes flickered by the shadows and the fight, a wild edge glinting in their depths. But then, just for a second, she felt that sharpness wavering.

She thought it when you feverishly clawed at her tense arms, your own jagged breaths coming in heavy, desperate gasps from your pursed mouth. Fresh blood streaked the bottom of your chin, and your busted-up lips parted as you fought against her steady hold. Your stained fingers curled against her, weakly scraping at her damp skin and the weight of her digging into you. 

Every inhale looked like it burned your lungs, but god were you putting up a fight- the fresh bruises already blooming across your skin.

Vi’s gaze softly dropped to your face, her pale blue eyes flickering over your expression with a fleeting hesitation. The sharp curve of your cheekbone, the way your bottom lip trembled yet still formed a curled-up snarl, the faint glint in the swirls of your eyes even as you gasped beneath her weight—it made her pause.

Her grip loosened slightly, her bandaged fingers pausing for just a moment as she held you down. Her breathing slowed. Her blood-smeared lips parted slightly as she caught herself staring. Her knuckles flexed against the fabric of your wrinkled-up shirt, the warm, sticky feeling of blood mixing with the sweat that trickled down her toned arms.

She felt the heat radiating from your body beneath her, the rapid warmth of your heartbeat pressing against her knee. For a brief moment, the world around her dulled—the roars of the crowd, the clanging of metal, the sickly-sweet scent of blood and booze.

It was just you. Breathing heavily underneath her, battered but unbroken, staring up at her.

God, you are just so pretty.

a/n: does this make sense? i just thought it was cute <3 small drabble before bed

[parkersgarage]

Believe ✦છ

arcane: sevika x gn!reader

contents: cursing [2.5k unedited] @parkersgarage this is heavily inspired by the oneshot they wrote! check out their works <3

IN WHICH: sevika makes you believe

❝ im living on overdrive, all the time ❞

Sevika just had a way of pissing you off. 

Perhaps it was her bluntness, her casually dry sarcasm seeping onto the ends of her coiled lips every time she spoke. The way her soft gray eyes would flicker when she managed to briefly get your attention away from your hunched-up tinkering over your cluttered desk.

 Maybe it was the way her choppy dark locks softly tickled the ends of her bronzed skin that you were ever so tempted to run across with the back of your thumb during the long nights she was away, lingering with the comforting yet faint scent of cheap booze and swirls of cigar smoke.

 Or, more recently, it was the way she was bleeding all over your damn carpet.

"Sevika, what the actual fuck?-" 

You seethed out with a hiss, your bottom lip slightly curled as she roughly dropped the prosthetic metal arm on the edge of your busted-up desk with a faint clatter. Your crinkled-up eyes gingerly running over the messy collection of tangled-up wires and bent-up bolts that scattered across the wooden surface. 

You lightly pushed up the end of your thinly wired glasses up the bridge of your furrowed nose, dryly inspecting the damage with a soft click of your tongue before turning towards her harrowing presence. Her scarred bottom lip trickled with faint remnants of smeared dried blood, scattered bruises trickling across the edge of her face- her Roman nose looked slightly crooked, most likely getting it bashed in, fresh cuts adorning her rough skin as she smoothly leaned into your work desk with a jagged sigh coating her words. 

It was a bit different from her usual bar brawl look though- not the same slightly caught up with light night gambling and the sweet taste of a new win lingering on the edge of her mouth. 

She looked tired. 

"Just needs a quick fix, dollface." Sevika’s voice was rough, the smooth words sliding off her tongue like a gravelly whisper, the edge of her usual self-assurance still present despite the blood splattered on her calloused skin and the damage to her arm that was dragged on the surface of your desk. "Figured you could patch this up."

You glanced at the mess of wires and metal plating surface- The arm looked like it had been through hell and tossed over the Piltover bridge for shits & giggles—scratches and dents marred it's sleek finish, and a few of the smaller components dangled precariously from frayed connections. 

"A quick fix?" you repeated with a soft laugh lingering on your curled lips. You softly adjusted your thinly coiled glasses with a quick shove up the bridge of your nose, your eyes slightly crinkled up. "If that's all you needed, you could have done that your damn self-" 

Your dingy apartment barely had enough space to fit the mess you called a workspace. The flickering fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting an erratic, sickly yellow glow across the room. Blueprints sprawled chaotically across the floor, pinned haphazardly to the walls, or forgotten in piles atop the desk. Tools, screws, and scraps of metal littered every surface, and the acrid tang of solder and oil clung to the stale air. The window was perpetually cracked open, letting in the faint hum of Zaun’s underbelly.

You turned over to look at her from your desk, a slight tug at your bottom lip.

Instead, you lightly snatched up the battered prosthetic arm, its weight heavier than it looked. Holding it up under the soft hue of the light above you, you gingerly turned it over in your hands, inspecting the sheer extent of the damage. 

Her chapped lips pulled into something just shy of a smile, though it wasn’t quite smug— "Didn’t think my favorite little mechanic would mind getting her hands dirty," she murmured out, her voice low, with a subtle warmth that danced on the edge of teasing. It wasn’t the words, though, that got under your skin. It was the way her storm-gray eyes seemed to latch onto you as her fingertips carefully tapped the surface of your wooden desk with a slight hum.

It was the kind of teasing you heard faint whispers between the streets of The Undercity- murmurs calling you Sevika's “Pretty Little Tinkerer”

"Sevika," you bit out finally, your voice tight as your smooth fingertips ran across the surface of the arm with a soft sigh, "this isn’t a ‘quick fix.’ Half the circuits are fried, the frame is bent beyond repair, and these joints? They’re done for." You half haphazardly tossed the arm back onto the desk with a resounding thud, its impact shaking a glass jar of screws precariously close to the edge. 

Her expression didn’t waver. The faint bruises on her jaw caught the flickering light, but her eyes stayed locked on yours, calm and unhurried as though she were absorbing every inch of your irritation. There was no cockiness, just a quiet watchfulness that made your pulse flicker unevenly. 

"Relax," she said finally, her voice steady but soft in a way that only stoked the fire under your skin. "I know you’ll fix it. You always do."

You clenched your jaw with a slight click of your tongue, forcing your focus back on the scattered mess of your desk, your oiled-up fingers gingerly flexing in frustration before reaching for the tools scattered across the surface. 

"You’re impossible," you muttered with a light hiss, letting the tension in your voice bleed into the room as you sorted through the mess. The soldering iron hissed faintly as it heated up, mirroring the simmering heat in your chest.

Behind you, Sevika stayed silent, her gaze still heavy on your back. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there—a quiet weight you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried to channel your irritation into fucking untangling the mess she’d handed you.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you tore your gaze from her, turning sharply toward the battered prosthetic arm on your desk. The clatter of tools filled the space as you hastily grabbed what you needed. Your voice was lower now, rough while smoothly turning one of the busted-up bolts quietly.

 "What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into, Sevika? Every time you come back home to me, you come back, you come back hurt." 

You adjusted your leather pants as you crouched to retrieve a roll of bandages from the corner. The thick material creaked softly with the movement, the belt cinched snugly at your waist holding an assortment of small tools and stray bolts you had yet to organize. 

“It's nothing.”

“Nothing isn't gonna scrub out the blood dripping on my carpet.”

Sevika had a way of filling the cramped space with her presence, and not just because of her size. Her towering figure seemed to soak up the weak light, making her seem even more imposing against the backdrop of your cluttered home. She leaned heavily against the edge of your desk, her metal arm a battered mess, the prosthetic sparking faintly as it collided with a pile of wrenches. Her usual attitude seemed dimmed, but her faint small smile was still there that she reserved for you was still there, tugging at her curled lips even as fresh bruises marred her skin.

"I have been dealt worse." Sevika’s gaze shifted away, the tension in her jaw easing as she turned toward your cluttered desk. Her gray eyes moved over the chaotic sprawl of blueprints pinned haphazardly to the wall, their edges curling from neglect. Some were smeared with faint fingerprints of grease, the lines of your meticulous designs almost hidden beneath layers of ink corrections and frustrated scribbles.

Her attention dropped lower, taking in the rows of jars crammed along the edge of the desk—each filled with bolts, screws, and mismatched metal scraps. The faint clinking of loose pieces echoed as her metal arm brushed against one, sending a lid rolling off onto the floor. She didn’t flinch, her focus already wandering to the tools scattered across the workbench: screwdrivers, wrenches, and soldering irons, all marked with the stains of your labor.

 "The whole situation has been growing dire, our attempts to control everything that has been brewing have been leading to chaos." 

Your wired glasses slipped down your nose as you stood, and you shoved them back into place with a grease-stained hand, leaving a faint smudge. 

"It doesn't have to be." You finally spoke.

 "What?" 

“I could be up there, with you, Sevika—helping you.” You set your wrench down with a decisive clink, the sound sharp against the quiet hum of the room. Rising slightly from your chair, you pressed your palms flat against the surface of your desk, leaning forward as your tools and bolts rattled from the sudden motion. Your gaze softened, warm but resolute, as it locked onto hers.

“I know I’m not much of a fighter like you,” you continued with a slight rustle into your locks of hair for a moment, your voice steady despite the faint quaver of emotion before looking back at her with a soft laugh, “But if I could put together a few bolts—really show those topsiders—”

The words hung in the air as you held her gaze. The faint glow of the desk light highlighted the sheen of oil on the palm of your smooth hands and the subtle tension in your posture. 

Sevika’s eyes flicked down briefly to your hands, pressed firmly against the scarred wood of the desk, then back up to your face. Her expression shifted, just slightly—the smallest crease at her dark brow, a flicker of something unspoken behind her stormy gray eyes. She took a breath, her broad shoulders rising and falling, but she said nothing yet, her silence heavy in the space between you.

"And what? So you could get hurt? Get involved in the crossfire of all this shit?" Sevika’s voice cut through with a sharp laugh, though the subtle tremor in her tone betrayed something deeper. Her hand shifted to rest on the desk beside yours, her thick fingers brushing past scattered bolts and oil-stained papers as if grounding herself against the weight of her words. Her gaze bore into you, stormy gray with a soft flicker.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound raw and uneven as it slipped past your lips. "And what do you want then?" You pushed back from the desk, standing now, your movements sharp while waving your curled-up fingers through the air with a slight sigh. "For me to sit pretty down here and tinker away while others die? While there’s a big fat fucking chance you could die-?"

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you turned away sharply to look at her, your soft hands gripping the edge of the desk until your knuckles stiffened. Tools roughly clattered from the sudden movement, and a lone wrench tumbled to the floor with a dull thud, but you didn’t flinch

She could die.

 Before you could stop yourself, your hand rose, trembling slightly.

Your fingertips brushed the edge of a fresh bruise on her cheek, her soothing skin warm beneath your lingering touch. The rough scrape felt raw underneath your soft graze, gingerly tracing the faded scars that still trickled across her face. Slowly, the back of your thumb quietly traced over the darkened patch of skin with a soft breath. Her face, always so sharp and proud, softened under your hand for a moment. The scar running down her cheek caught the faint yellow glow of the overhead light, stark against her bronzed complexion.

Her breath hitched, the tiniest intake of air, as her chin tilted slightly toward the warmth of your palm. For a fleeting second, her usual stoic mask faltered, replaced by a slight softness. Her long lashes, thick and dark, fluttered as she hesitated, her gray eyes flickering towards yours.

"I couldn't-" You whispered quietly, "I-I don’t know what I would do without you."

Sevika's jaw tightened, her plump lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she smoothly leaned into your quiet hand, the weight of her head pressing gently against your palm. Her fresh scars and cuts faintly press into the soothing touch of your warm fingertips.

Then, without a word, she turned her face slightly, and her pursed lips brushed softly against your palm for a brief moment. The kiss was warm and deliberate. Her chapped lips smoothly grazed your touch. Her crinkled-up eyes fluttering shut as her lips lingered across your soft skin, and you could feel her light breath ghosting over your fingertips, steady and grounding into your warmth.

 "I won't, [y/n]. Y'know that." 

"Do I?" you softly asked, your strained voice barely above a whisper, "What if you never come back to me one day, Sevy?"

Your darkened eyes traced her face quietly, lingering on every bruise and faded scar that was carved into her bronze skin. The fresh purpling on her cheekbone, the faded remnants of old battles across her jaw— The space between you warmly lingered with a faint breath.

Sevika’s dark brows furrowed, her expression hardening- Slowly, she reached out, her large, calloused hand enveloping yours. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, as her thick fingers curled tightly around yours, holding on as if you might slip away.

"Hell could try to drag me down into its fucking depths," she whispered into your fingertips as the warmth kissed your flushed skin, her soothing voice low but steady, "but nothing in Zaun—nothing—would keep me from coming back to you."

Her smooth thumb brushed against the back of your quivering hand, the roughness of her touch grounding you even as her words made your chest tighten. She quietly leaned closer to the edge of your fingers, her head dipping slightly, enough to have her choppy locks tickle your face. You could feel the heat of her skin, the tension in her clenched jaw, her gray eyes slightly flickering. 

"You have to believe that," she finally murmured, her grip on your hand firm.

"I—" The word faltered on your lips, and you looked down at your joined hands, her grip warm, grounding you in a way that both comforted and overwhelmed.

“Sevika-”

"Do you believe that [y/n]?" Sevika’s voice softened just enough to make the question linger in the space between you.

You took a shaky breath, forcing a small smile to your lips before pressing the edge of your mouth to the edge of her fingertips quietly.

 "I’ll try," you murmured quietly, your voice steadier this time.

Sevika let out a low chuckle at the remark, her warm thumb brushing over the back of your hand one last time in a smooth circle before releasing you. "Now, let’s get me cleaned up, huh? I’m pretty sure I look like shit."

"You definitely do," you quipped with a warm hum, already reaching for a clean rag that was tucked away in the wooden drawers of your desk. She raised an eyebrow at your quick response, but the ghost of a smile tugged at her chapped lips.

a/n: i just needed to write a bit for arcane holy moly- let me know if you guys wanna see more arcane stuff? i was thinking of writing for more characters so let me know in my inbox if you have a suggestion, im on a kick right now lol :')

[parkersgarage]

darling, come back to sleep

sevika x f!reader, fluff, post-s1/no s2 spoilers, established relationship (one shot, 1k words) ageless blogs, minors & men dni

reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

sevika has slept less and less since taking over for silco. even when she did make it home to your shared apartment—usually long after your day had ended, she would pace around the living room, muttering to herself. on a rare night would she make it to bed, tossing and turning against your sleeping form.

you understood the stress of the job, you yourself had worked beneath the man, though your job for him was never as important as sevika's. you kept fairly normal hours, usually just manning the books until you had everything orderly enough to call it a day. sometimes, on an easier day, sevika would sit in your office while you pored over a ledger, reading glasses low on the tip of your nose. these days, though, she was more often than not locked up in silco's old office, lamenting the mess he left behind.

you even took it upon yourself to fix her arm for her—with a bit of jinx's input, of course. you figured it would be a small comfort for your girlfriend, another thing she didn't have to worry about.

this was a rare night she actually made it to bed. you were just on the verge of falling asleep when she sunk down into the soft sheets, a weary sigh passing through her lips as she laid down with her back to you. without hesitating, you rolled over and wrapped your arm around her waist, tugging her closer to you. you felt her tense for a brief moment—even though you'd been together for what seems like forever, she seems to have her moments where being on the receiving end of affection is a surprise. after a brief moment, though, she relaxes into your touch and you wonder if tonight will be easy.

however, something causes you to stir long before the rise of the sun. you reach over to the other side of the bed, finding it empty with the sheets still warm. well, at least she hasn't been up for long, you sigh to yourself, rubbing sleep from your eyes and sitting up. you listen for the sound of her meandering—sometimes she paces through the living room or pours herself a drink. when you hear nothing, though, you climb out of bed and head for her small office.

you were originally against the idea of her bringing work home with her, but after a few nights where she didn't come home at all, you decided this was a well enough compromise.

sure enough, as you stand in the doorway, wrapping your arms around your torso to combat the cool chill of the season, you find sevika poring over something on her desk. there's no light in the room except for a dim table lamp that casts a green glow among her face; expression contorted into one of confusion and frustration.

"darling, please come back to bed," you sigh, hating how desperate you sound. it's not that it makes you angry or sad to not have her at your disposal, you just hate watching her burn herself out. "if it's not getting solved now, it can wait until morning."

"everything is time sensitive these days," sevika grumbles. at the very least, she doesn't have a glass of whiskey in her hand. so, it is a better night than most. "smeech is on my ass, i need to figure this out."

you're almost about to give up—to return to your empty bed and pray she makes it back by dawn, but something in you is tired tonight and misses her warmth. you approach her desk, noting the way her soft gray eyes flick up to you, watching your every move. you place your hands against the wood, eyes flitting down to the papers she's looking at, but you're too tired to comprehend what she's working on. you can see her exhaustion in her eyes.

cautiously, you bring a gentle hand to her chin, rubbing your thumb lightly over her scarred cheek. "you know why you can't figure it out right now? because you haven't slept in weeks. get some rest, look at it with fresh eyes in the morning."

sevika looks up at you, expression weary, but you can tell she's close to giving in. she leans into your palm, tilting her head and kissing the soft flesh. you take the moment to brush your fingers through the nape of her neck—a spot you know will hit just right for her.

"come to bed, baby," you try again. "i'll kill smeech myself if i have to, i miss sleeping with my girlfriend."

"i'd believe you if you let me train you with anything other than a butter knife," she retorts, grabbing your wrist and pressing one more kiss to it before tugging your hand away. for a moment, you think she's going to keep working and you prepare yourself for the disappointment.

"it's not a butter knife, thank you very much, we can't all have big scary metal arms as a default weapon," you tease. she surprises you by rising to her feet, towering slightly over you, and reaching for the lamp. the room goes dark and you reach for her flesh hand, thumb going over her pulse the way you always do—you like to feel it beneath your fingers, a reminder that through it all, you're both still here.

"come on," she nods towards the door, letting you tug her along back to your bedroom.

you continue forward with a satisfied smile on your face, dragging her back under the sheets. this time, she reaches for you and lets you settle against her chest, your face in the crook of her neck. with your weight on her, you can hear the steady beat of her heart and feel the pace of her breathing.

determined not to let her get up again, you wait for her breathing to even out, tracing out soft patterns on her skin as you do so. as soon as she's asleep, you let your eyes flutter closed.

sevika gets a little bit better at coming to bed after that.

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I should’ve posted at night like usual 😭

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a/n: freaky. thanks arcane (sevika) for curing my writers block.

Sevika x gn!reader | !!!suggestive!!! 265 wc. MINORS DNI!!!

“Well, aren’t you cocky?” You hum. She feels your lips graze her neck, nearly jerking away at the suddenness of them. But she stays still, letting you kiss a trail from the nape of her neck, down her shoulder, until you’re standing in front of her, lips still on her neck.

“Someone should knock you down a peg, don’t you think?”

The insult on her tongue falls limp when you bite down on the side of her neck harshly; she swore you might’ve drawn blood. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asks roughly, breathing shallow and unsteady.

“What do you want me to do?”

Sevika doesn’t say anything to answer you. She doesn’t look away from you, even when you’ve started to back her against the wall– she makes no effort to get herself out of the situation.

Sevika wants you. She needs you.

Her hand rests loosely around your neck, fingers lightly digging into your skin so timidly, you could call it tender. For a woman who knew how to make people squirm under her gaze alone, she was wound around your finger in an instant.

“Go on, tell me.”

As bad as she wants you under her, breathing out her name in stutters– just this once, just with you— she could be the one who gets all the pain and pleasure.

“I need you.”

Her words lit a flame under you. She could see in your eyes just how eager you were to hear them. And she realized the second your lips were on hers, that she was in deep.

a/n: if I knew how to write smut correctly maybe. Just maybe. There would be more (Gonna try though 😇)

not pro bottom sevika, but cmon. You can’t tell me you DONT like the idea.

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a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

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Glad my girlfriend is supporting my Sevika addiction by sending me edits of her

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CHAAAAT. I love my silly (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) happens before the explosion (｀_´)ゞ Sevika is ooc for A GOOD REASON!!!!! 204 wc

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

At your whisper, Sevika turns. A low laugh, barely heard, falls from her lips at your worry. It wasn’t that she dismissed your worries, your vulnerability, or your fear; no, it was rather she couldn’t let herself feel the same way you did. The idea of not coming back to you, how hurt you would be if the subtle promise of ‘I’ll be back’ never comes true, and how you’d wait day in and day out just for her return to never come.

She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” she says, confidence dripping in each word. You see right through her, she knows it. “I’ll be home before the day ends.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You say, leaning into her warm hand when it held your cheek tenderly. Sevika stares at you, tracing each and every inch of your face, every scar and speck that littered it. “Be safe. Come back in one piece.”

She laughs again, a genuine one this time with no intentions to hide. “I will. I promise.” In a– what people would deem as rare for someone like her– moment like this, Sevika’s softer side showcases itself with no restrictions.