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mossangelll · 4 months ago

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arcane characters as sugar mommies/daddies ˚₊‧꒰ა $ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

been thinking about mel as a sugar mommy and decided to spread the joy to other characters >:)

haven’t proofread but i was obsessed with the idea and needed to get my thoughts out, hope you enjoy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

part 2.5

cw: don’t think gender is specified but i had a fem reader in mind so that might show, smut, degrading language used in a consensual manner, minors dni, 18+ only

the alluring one

you’re trying to buy a round of drinks when your card declines and just as you’re about to die from embarrassment, her warm hand settles on your shoulder as her scarred lip smirks down at you

she pays for multiple rounds of drinks and before you know it, you’re making out in the alleyway

the rest is history

you never thought you’d be in an arrangement like this but she had her ways of convincing you otherwise

has a bunch of different girls on her roster that she maybeeee doesn’t tell you about

don’t worry, you’re the only sugar baby she pays this much for

when you find out you can’t even be that mad about it - she’s so hot you’d let her get away with anything

you’re smart enough to be pouty around her and take advantage of the situation - get ready for the greatest apology of your life

she invites you to her place just for you to find thousands of roses in the foyer and a gift box with your name on the table

she has you follow a trail of clues until you end up in her bedroom, still juggling an armful of gifts, where vi is waiting for you with a hopeful look

she rushes over to take the boxes from you and smothers your face in feather light kisses before apologising for making you feel shitty

her apology doesn’t stop there though and carries on well into the night

you complain about your bus being late? she’s already sent an uber black to your location

you don’t know which gaming console you want? she’s got it covered - multiple packages with every console you mentioned are arriving by the next day

you’re at a party but you’re feeling needy? she’s already dragging you to a storage cupboard, crowd be damned, and eating you out with such fervour you think you might see heaven

pays for your gym membership at a place like equinox and makes sure you two take full advantage of the sauna - it might be warm in there, but you come out sweaty for a whole other reason

has a garage full of vintage motorbikes that cost a fortune and only she can touch

pays you your days salary (and then some) so you can take time off work just so you can visit her at her home gym

she uses you to show off her impressive strength by lifting you as if you weigh nothing in her arms

getting used as her personal gym equipment is a major turn on

lives to impress you with her physique, she gets so pleased with herself when she notices your eyes darken as they wander over her toned body

she definitely has mirror ceilings and she definitely makes you stare at yourself as she fucks you stupid underneath them

Jinx

the mischevious one

she’s the rich artsy kind and you’re her muse

this means she needs you around 24/7 in case creativity strikes her - naturally, this leads to her paying for your company

has you come over to the studio all the time

one time, she set down a canvas on the floor, told you to strip, covered you two in paint and fucked you right there and then

the rolling around, teeth bared, guttural moan, primal kind of fucking; she relished in the bruises that bloomed on your neck and chest as she sucked on your most sensitive spots

the resulting painting was quite impressive to look at, even if thinking about its creation made you more flustered than you’ve ever been

her hands aren’t only good for creating art pieces it seems

she’s one of the sugar mommy’s that pays you the most since she views your company as priceless when it comes to her work

you get anything you ask for, seriously

you’re decked head to toe and all of it is something jinx either gifted you or gave you the money to buy

if it’s something not available to buy, she buys luxurious materials that cost more than your salary just to craft it for you

takes you to the kind of stiff, fancy places she hates just to have you wear vibrating underwear which she has the controls for

sometimes it’s even the opening night of her art gallery

she makes it a challenge: how long can you go without drawing attention to yourself due to your moans - the longer, the more money you get

it’s downright obscene, the way she knowingly glances at you with subdued glee , your slight whimpers echoing as you try your best to muffle the sounds, tears welling up in your eyes

she goes back to chatting up art collectors and investors as she secretly turns up the power of the vibrations hitting you right to the core

she calls you her “sweet thing” when you get back to her penthouse and she makes it up to you by giving you her bank card

she likes to make you laugh during sex too, she doesn’t like if you try to make it too “dour”

Caitlyn

the inexperienced one

cait’s been single for a while and it’s obvious it’s taking its toll

her friends encourage her to go out and meet someone new but she’s too focused on work to waste time on someone she probably won’t like

one day she stumbles upon a sugar baby site and says fuck it

the first date is pretty awkward but after a couple drinks, you manage to loosen her up so she’s more free with you

she has no clue what her role in this kind of arrangement is so she goes all out from the get-go; she loves spending money on you to the point it’s a bit insane even if she tells you not to worry

has to ask her friends for advice on the group chat constantly (she has a history of fumbling attractive people and she’s not letting it happen again)

adds you to her country club membership so you two can play tennis on the weekends

this place is fancyyyyyy but she makes sure you feel comfortable

gets you a instructor if you don’t know how to play

this obviously means she buys you about ten different outfits with tennis bracelets to match each

buys you a penthouse in the best part of town, close to where she lives of course so she has easy access to you

you two christen every single room in your new place, no stone left unturned

scissoring in the large bedroom, head on the lavish kitchen countertops, taking turns fucking with the strap on the balcony with a breathtaking view, fingering in the living room - everything and anything you can think of

her job isn’t done until the two of you are exhausted and wailing loud enough that the neighbours 20 floors down are complaining

she is insatiable when it comes to you, it’s like you lit a fire within her that she can’t put out no matter how hard she tries

completely adores how cute you act when you try to deny her pricey gifts

even more so when she gifts you a first edition book and your demeanour turns more panicked by the second

really though, she’s freaking out more than you are although she doesn’t show it often

her biggest fear is gifting you something you hate which leads to you ending everything

you’ve never had a sugar mommy treat you like this

she gives her assistant special instructions to let you into her office at any time, a privilege only you’re blessed with

you manage to distract her and before she knows it, she’s forced to make herself look presentable in only five minutes despite having a smudge-proof lipstick mark on her cheek she can’t get off for the life of her

doesn’t want to admit that she wants more than a purely transactional relationship with you

Silco

the generous one

gives you an exorbitant amount of money every time you see him

like, a CRAZY amount

it barely registers for him though, he has more money than should be possible

he goes as far as to give you his black card even if you didn’t ask for it

goads you to max it out and somehow, despite spending so much, you’ve barely dented the thing which makes him laugh

he expects you to spend most of the money he gives you on luxuries you wouldn’t normal buy and asks you to do a haul and model it all for him in his office

behind the scenes, he’s busy paying off your any debts you might have, setting up a trust fund for you, looking for houses you would like

wants you to be set up for life

showers you in decadent lingerie that fits you perfectly from boutiques like la perla, agent provocateur and honey birdette - only the best for his girl

has to replace your lingerie quite often though, he goes feral when he sees you all dolled up just for him

even more so if you were good and listened to his demands, buying the exact lingerie he wanted to see you in

has you sign a detailed contract before the arrangement begins since he wants to make sure you’re comfortable with everything

also wants to make sure you follow his rules

wants you to only refer to him using “sir” when it’s just the two of you

i see him as the kind of sugar daddy that does expect some sugar in return

he’s very abrasive in bed, and calls you all types of degrading names which only serves to turn you both on further

has some…curious interests that he pays you more for indulging in - he is a gentleman after all

“my money hungry slut” and “little whore” are his favourites

takes you on shopping sprees for aftercare (and maybe he does cuddle too but you can’t let anyone else know that) - he doesn’t want you to think he views you a less than just because of the life path you’ve chosen

his idea of pillow talk is giving you tips on the stock market and trading

Sevika

the brusque one

she has commitment issues, is afraid of vulnerability and has a high sex drive

this has led her romantic relationships to fail in one way or another, which is where you come in

she sees it as a simple business transaction - nothing more, nothing less

she likes having you around but don’t get confused: she doesn’t want a real relationship with you

doesn’t sugar coat her words around you and while it might make anyone else run for the hills, you appreciate her honesty

having someone as gorgeous as you coo and hang onto her every word does inflate her ego

everyone wants you, eyes appraising you up and down, but they can’t have you - only she can

so punctual with her payments that it genuinely feels like any other regular job

she looks down on those so called sugar mommies that skimp out of paying a fair rate - you don’t need to worry with her, you’ll be getting more than you ever really needed

despite presenting a stoic image, she can’t help but give in to your every whim

all you have to do is glance at a display window with even a hint of longing and she’s immediately rolling her eyes, dragging you into the shop to buy it for you

if you get tired walking around and ask her to carry you she will huff and puff but that doesn’t stop her from scooping you up anyway

she has a strap on AND it’s the kind that ejaculates too

you two go to luxury toy makers and get straps custom made to tailor to both of your wants and desires

she perhaps gets attachments for her mechanical arm too…

she doesn’t skimp out on the good stuff when it comes to you

her hot grunts ring in your ears as she grinds into you, her body seemingly encompassing your entire body and mind

creampies you every time and fucks the cum back inside of your dripping hole just to watch it leak back out and repeat the cycle again until you’re begging out for her

you’re in a daze for a good ten minutes after and she can’t help but snort at the faces you make

maybe this isn’t just a simple transaction to her

Vander

the hesitant one

vander feels icky about the relationship he has with you at the start

he’s much older than you and you’re still in university, it makes him feel like such a bad person who’s preying on your vulnerability

you make sure to always remind him that he’s single-handedly paying for your tuition

you love what he does for you!

once he gets past that hurdle though, god have mercy on your soul, you will be ruined for other people

he basically acts as your mentor just with some extra benefits on the side

loves to hear you yap about any projects you’re working on and does his best to help with any issues at university

he’s the type to text you good morning and good night every single day without fail

even gives you a bigger allowance if you wake up early and reply to his good morning texts quickly

what? it’s an incentive to get you to attend your lectures

likes to be called daddy even if it does make him blush intensely

he gets off on the idea of being your protector and the only one to provide for you

cockwarms you when you’re working on assignments and it turns your brain to mush every time

spanks you when you stop paying attention

honestly it feels like he’s working against you whenever he does this

also gets jealous when you talk about dates you had with other people

he never made the relationship an official one, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking you hard, his hand prints left on your hips to mark his territory

definitely can’t walk the next day and he’s so smug

down BAD

Ambessa

the teasing one

ambessa has play things in every city; you name a place, odds are she’s got a hook up there

you’re no exception of course

in fact, you’re her favourite out of them all

whenever ambessa calls, you run to be at her service

L O A D E D

exposes you to experiences you never even knew existed, i’m talking about things only the upper 1% can do

she’s the kind of sugar mommy that likes to hear about your day over a glass of wine

the mundanity helps her calm down from her hectic life

she will hold the things she does for you over your head

it’s mean but she views it as her right considering all the luxuries she gives you access to

jokes she’s going to go to a perfumer and get the scent of your sex turned into a perfume

when you accept a surprise gift from her, it turns out it was not a joke - you should’ve known something was up the second her wicked smile made an appearance

actually doesn’t smell too bad

has you use it every single time you’re around her and only then

she’s a FREAK what can i say

whisks you off to couple spa days; you both deserve a little rest and relaxation every now and then

speaking of spa days, she often asks you to massage her which usually ends with your large hands pawing all over your body

she likes receiving more than giving but she still prioritises giving you plenty of orgasms through the night

what kind of sugar mommy would she be without ensuring you’re also satisfied with your arrangement?

you’re worn out from what she considers foreplay

still, you need to make sure you’re being as thoughtful as she is otherwise you’re getting kicked down the rungs of her sugar baby ladder

Mel

the cunning one

mel is the best sugar mommy around i know it

doesn’t do it often - she tries to limit herself to one sugar baby every once in a while

she sees them as worthwhile investments

if you want to be her sugar baby, you need to bring something useful to the table

she meets you at a science exhibition and is thoroughly impressed with your work

you need funding to complete your research and she needs relief from her stressful life as a counsellor

a win-win situation if you ask her

you don’t see her often, she’s too busy solving problems with the council, but when you do, she makes sure it’s worth your time

expensive dinner dates, surprise weekend get-aways, opera concerts - anything you ask for, it’s yours

not only is she funding all of your research, she takes you to galas where you can mingle with the elites you need to win over to achieve more exposure for your research

she usually sends boxes full of clothes and shoes to your house for you to wear to these outings, and picks you up fancy black car with a chauffeur and bottles of wine in coolers

she has her hand on your leg the entire journey there, a faint smirk on her lips when she notices how hot and bothered you are

in a relationship like this, she likes to be the dominant one in bed

she doesn’t expect anything sexual in return but if you’re willing she’s more than happy to fulfill those needs too

leans towards being sensual and romantic but that doesn’t mean she won’t make sure to fuck you thoroughly

heavy on foreplay to the point you think you’re going to pass out from the pent up energy in you

has lots of toys she likes to use on you, she’s very experimental and wants to test which one you respond to the most

also likes you to use the toys on her too and when she sees you suck her wetness off the toy you just used on her, she melts into a puddle

yeah, you’re getting an instant increase on your allowance and you’re getting a new custom wardrobe

Jayce

the proud one

jayce comes from a relatively well-off family, but his inventions launched him into stardom and left him with more money than he knew what to do with

he decides the best thing he can do is spread the love

he finds you on a site for this kind of stuff, something he would rather die than admit, and knew he had to get you on a date with him

makes you custom jewellery set with the most unique stones you’ve ever seen and loves when you wear them out on dates with him

you probably have the entire gdp of a small country just on your wrist alone

wants a play-by-play of all the things you bought that week, he’s lowkey into hearing how much of his money you spent on treating yourself

he wants you to buy even more things with his money than you already do which flusters you but you give in every time

he’s another one that wants a fashion show where you try on everything you bought

he just likes to sit and clap with a smile as you twirl for him

loves to show you off at all the balls and galas he’s invited to

takes you on late night drives in his alpine a110 r-turini and he always has one arm, big with straining muscles, around your headrest which never fails to make your heart flutter

oh i can see him being into role play

maybe he’s your boss and you’re the maid he just caught stealing from him lmao

he loves to get sloppy head from you and offers you all sorts of gifts in return

talking, or helplessly groaning in this situation, about all the ways you can drain his money is his form of dirty talk, “yeah, just like that babe. you want me to buy that new phone don’t you? well, take me like the good girl i know you are and work for it.”

he’s so whipped for you it borders on quite cute imo

Viktor

the cocky one

viktor came into new money after selling the patent for one of his inventions

he is well aware that he’s an attractive guy and could have pretty much anyone he wants, but his long work hours aren’t conducive to healthy relationships

so he takes it upon himself to get a sugar baby, no strings attached

has you stay with him in his lab to keep him company - he loves listening to your idle chatter about things he has no interest in

but when it’s you talking about them he’s captivated by every word

likes to call you his “cute lab assistant” and tries to hide how much he likes it when you call him your “handsome scientist”

he fails obviously

he explains extremely complicated topics in a very contrived way, even when he knows he can simplify it for the average person, because seeing the dumbfounded look on your face gets him going

closes down a whole shopping mall just so you can frolic about and shop to your hearts content; oh, don’t worry about all those bags, he has a guy to carry them all so you two can focus on having a nice date ^^

gonna be real, he’s the kind of guy to fuck you against the wall of the changing room, not caring that the bashful shop assistants can hear every single clap of skin slapping against each other and the strangled moans you both let out

buys all the clothes you tried on, you’re too fucked out to notice the looks you get from the workers, and the fact that the clothes might be a bit…dirty 😭

at least he tips them enough to make up for it

sprays his designer cologne on your gifts so you remember who you belong to

playfully suggests you give him a lap dance so he gets his money worth but you both know it was anything but a joke

good thing you love putting on a show for him!

this guy is such a troll, he literally throws money on you and slips bills in between the straps of your underwear as you sensually dance for him in the lingerie he paid for

has to control himself from pouncing on you then and there

he really enjoys the way you can both tease each other and not take things too seriously

masterlist

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l13 · 5 months ago

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The loud thumping wakes you up, and you blink tiredly as the sound persists. You look at your ceiling for a second before you realize someone is knocking at your door. You groan, bringing your duvet over your ear as you snuggle in again.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble against your pillow as the knocking becomes more forceful.

Suddenly there’s silence, and when you finally think that whoever is bothering you has left, the knocking starts again.

You groan, cursing under your breath as you stand up, grabbing your gun from your vanity. You walk to your front door, opening it angrily.

“What-” your outburst dies down at your lips when you lock eyes with the last person you’d expected to see standing outside your apartment, but one you’d longed for, for years.

Your first instinct is to panic, there’s no way you were conscious. The person standing at your door was supposed to be dead.

So you raise your gun up, hand trembling, “This isn’t real.” you choke out, and Vander raises his hands slowly, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “You’re not real, you’re not here.” There are tears dripping down your cheeks, the gun threatening to fall from your hand with how much you were shaking “Y-you’re dead, this can’t-” you clutch at your chest, heaving, and Vander’s hands grab at your shoulders when your knees buckle,

“My love,” The gun slips from your shaky grip and falls to the floor the moment the words leave his mouth. His voice, god fuck, his voice. You’ve dreamed of it, you’re certain you’ve heard it, back when the grief first clawed at your heart, when the illusions spilled into reality to try to mend what was broken.

But this sounded too real, and you gasped when his hand cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Darling, my darling girl. It’s me,” the sweet but rough sound of his voice sent shivers down your back, and you wanted to drown in it, you wanted to hear it again and again and again until you couldn’t anymore. You blinked rapidly, tears blurring your vision as your eyes danced across his features, the five bright white dots across his forehead would have confused you, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

You didn’t realize you’d raised your hand to cover his, until you felt the warmth of his hand under your skin. “S-stop, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” you squeezed your eyes shut, whispering frantically in order to wake up from this sickly realistic dream, to end this before you woke up and missed his touch again. And yet you craved more, desperately running your hands down his sides, back up to his chest, his shoulders, his back.

God, he felt real, and he was so warm, not like the previous dreams you’ve had when he was always cold, just a silhouette of the man you loved. He even smelled like your Vander. A sob broke through you, and you threw your hands around his neck, crying against his chest. Even if this wasn’t real, you’d still take advantage of this opportunity to feel close to him one last time.

You tried not to cry harder when his arms immediately circled around your torso, hugging you tight to him as you both slipped down to the floor, “Shh sh, love it’s me. Please, look at me,”

“If I do then I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” you muttered against his chest, nuzzling closer to him, “Let me have this, just for a moment.”

“You have me, forever.” His rough gravelly voice vibrated against your chest as he spoke, his breath hitting your ear as he nuzzled against your hair, his hands running up and down your back, spreading warmth everywhere.

Too real, too real, too real.

“I miss you so much. I-I can’t-” you take a shuddering breath in, “I can’t live without you. I need you back, please. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“My love, my heart. You beautiful, stunning creature. Look at me, I beg you.”

You could feel him leaning away just so he could cup your jaw, lifting your head up softly, so so softly.

Please.

“Look at me.” he mutters, the softness of his request filled with desperation. You slowly open your eyes, blinking away your tears, gaze immediately locking with his.

Your lips part as you take him in. The color of his eyes was much greyer than you remembered. You raised your hand to follow each feature, each wrinkle of his. After a moment, You brought your other hand up, as well, cupping both his cheeks in your hands, feeling his stubble prickle at your palms. “Vander… This- this can’t be real.” you move to pull away but he cups both your hands, keeping you in place, leaning his forehead against yours, “It can, it is. I’m here honey. I’m here.”

You can’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he speaks, your mind trying to make sense of what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling.

Please.

You can’t let yourself get too hopeful because this isn’t possible, and he seems to get it too, so he starts explaining.

He tells you everything. How he was on the verge of death, how a man, Singed, found him, turned him into something vile, but the mutation kept him alive, even if he wasn’t entirely himself. He tells you about how all he felt was pain, but you and the kids were the only thing in his mind the whole time, trying to block away everything else. Tells you about Powder, Vi, and Isha, how they found him, brought him somewhere, a colony of some sort. A man, the Herald, helped him, and “..honest to God he kind of scares me, but it-it didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now because I’m here. I’m here with you.”

Please.

You don’t realize you’ve lost track of time until you’re looking at yourself. You blink quickly, eyebrows furrowing, but then you realize you’re looking at yourself in the mirror. Vander is still holding you tightly, and the side of your face is pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he whispers sweet nothings against the crown of your head. You stay there, listening to his voice and his heart for what feels like forever.

He grabs your shoulders, pulling you away from him just enough for him to look at you in the eyes, “Are you okay?” he asks, but his voice is muffled, sounding too far away. You blink slowly up at him and he frowns sadly.

“I missed you so much. Even in death I missed you, but I wasn’t selfish enough to wish I could see you again because that would mean you’d-” he cuts himself off, the strands of his hair moving as he shakes his head, eyes clenched shut as if to rid himself of that painful thought. “I-I’m here. I’m real. Darling, I’m alive, and I need you to know this.”

His eyes are pained as he stares down at you, once again cupping your jaw, thumb caressing your cheekbone “Say something.”

“I love you.”

His face immediately crumbles, eyebrows squeezing together as his tears start falling, and he tucks his head against the place between your neck and shoulder, crying as he squeezes you impossible tighter, “I love you.” he chokes out, and you feel him pepper soft kisses over your skin, the brokenness of his voice bringing fresh tears to your eyes as well.

You don’t know how long you stay tangled together like this, just holding each other, but Vander leans back suddenly, looking at you with so much adoration that it makes you want to scream. “Hi,” he mumbles, petting your hair softly, his other hand drawing circles on your back.

You start pressing soft kisses all over his face, not being able to contain your affection, and he closes his eyes, laughing giddily, the deep sound traveling over your skin, spreading warmth everywhere. God, you’ve missed this, missed him. “Hi.” you mutter, pressing one last kiss at the corner of his mouth.

His puffy eyes glance down at your lips, “Can I-”

“Please.”

He kisses you.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

#arcane s2 ep4 spoilers #arcane s2 ep5 spoilers #not proofread #i bawled my eyes out at the last two eps #the second act broke me #this is just smth to make me feel better #and hopefully you guys too #vander x reader #arcane vander x reader #vander x you #vander x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane fluff #vander x reader fluff #fixing the canon #l13 #Spotify

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honey-tongued-devil · 7 months ago

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Arcane characters finding you asleep at their workplace

The devil works hard, but I work a little harder, so I’m back to writing Arcane headcanons a month before season two comes out.

Jayce:

- Strong sense of guilt,

- The first thing that comes to his mind is that you must have waited for him for a long time to fall asleep

- He will make it up to you by trying to cook something for you, stopping to buy your favorite sweets before heading home, and giving you a shoulder massage the moment you sit down somewhere after you wake up.

- The man of the Hamlet-like dilemma: he doesn’t want to wake you, but he also doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

- If he has something urgent to do, he’ll try to cover your shoulders with something, even just his jacket, to keep you warm while he finishes only the essentials.

- Once he’s free, he will very gently try to lift you from the chair, apologizing when you wake up and mumble something incoherent.

Viktor:

- In the early years of university, it sometimes happened that he found you in his room asleep, slumped over on a chair or bed with your shoes still on.

- But as the years went by and the lab became his main space, that sight became a constant, repeating at least twice a week.

- He tries to make as little noise as possible, whether with his aides, the door, or the stack of books and notebooks he needs to organize.

- Before getting to work, he leaves the room again to bring you your favorite hot drink with a plastic lid pressed on top, so it doesn’t cool down.

- Then, in complete silence, he works, deciding what to leave for tomorrow and what to do now, so he can finish as soon as possible without delaying too much.

Ekko:

- It’s hard to define what exactly a workplace is for Ekko,

- But he often finds you at the Firelights' tree, in that room that’s supposed to be his, having likely sneaked in through the window to surprise him.

- There are days when he comes back fairly early but stays to tell stories to the kids, and others when things go wrong, and he returns when it’s already dark, and almost everyone is asleep

- Finding you like this always makes him feel the absence of something more stable

- But he shakes his head and quickly pushes aside doubts about his ideals, stepping out of the room again and making more noise as he enters again, so you wake up, and he can pretend to be surprised in front of your open eyes.

- By now, you know he steps out and comes back in, but it makes you smile every single time.

Vander:

- You always sit at a table in the back of the Last Drop to wait for him, trying not to bother him, doodling, doing calculations, or planning something for the next day just to keep yourself entertained.

- But by now, the sound of drunkards and the clinking of coins and glasses have become background noise that helps lull you into a catatonic state.

- Vander usually notices after about an hour that you've fallen asleep; he always keeps an eye on you, but sometimes the customers cause problems.

- He doesn’t like leaving you there, so far away, so he usually waits for a quieter moment to come over, pick you up, and bring you behind the counter, laying you down with your arms and head resting on the wooden bar.

- He knows it’s not a big improvement, but his priority is to keep you safe.

- When he finishes working, he closes the bar without doing the closing duties, sets his alarm for earlier than usual, and carries you to your room in his arms, covering your forehead with kisses.

Silco:

- The problem with Silco finding you asleep in his office is that he rarely arrives alone.

- There’s always either Sevika or at least two other henchmen following him.

- He sighs and sends them away, not without Sevika giving him a provocative look that means everything and nothing.

- He hates those situations because part of him feels a strange warmth at the thought of you sneaking into his office for whatever reason, but on the other hand, he knows it negatively affects his image to be seen as a leader who tolerates certain insubordinations.

- Because sneaking into the kingpin’s office is something that would get almost anyone else outside decapitated. But not you.

- He huffs, pacing the room to deal with both emotions, and when he finally calms down, he approaches you, shaking you slightly to wake you up.

- It’s certainly not the gentlest gesture on his part, but most of the time, it ends with you either going back to sleep in his bed while he works, or sitting on his lap while he flips through papers without paying them much attention.

Jinx:

- She can’t contain her excitement at all. When she notices your figure in her workshop, she always lets out a little happy sound that wakes you up.

- From there, she immediately starts apologizing at least a thousand times, feeling guilty for waking you up but still too happy that you came to visit her.

- She helps you up, talking nonstop about her day and anything that comes to mind as she leads you outside.

- It’s not because she doesn’t want you around, but because she assumes you must be hungry as soon as you wake up, so before you're fully awake, you’ll find yourself at the Last Drop with enough food in front of you to feed her father’s entire gang of henchmen.

- And she will absolutely feed you herself when she sees you haven’t taken a bite in too long, while stealing food here and there and continuing to talk.

Vi:

- For her, too, a "workplace" is a somewhat vague concept,

- But in return, she has her secret spot, where she hides at night and tries to survive when she’s not out on the streets looking for trouble.

- Every time she finds you there, she feels an indescribable pang in her heart.

- She always feels like she’s neglecting the person she loves and failing to make you understand how much she cares about you.

- She always hesitates before waking you up; sometimes she’ll even go change into clean clothes and wash the grime off her hands and face first.

- Then she’ll wake you by sitting next to you, giving you a kiss, calling you by a silly nickname only the two of you know, and rubbing her forehead against yours before asking, with a rhetorical smile,

- "Did you miss me?"

Caitlyn:

- Sometimes you find yourself in the inner waiting room of the precinct, with her colleagues pointing out your body slumped in the chair and raising their eyebrows, teasing her. Other times, you simply sneak into her room, which isn’t much different from the police station anyway.

- Every time, she sighs and gently wakes you, her pale eyes a little sad.

- “Why didn’t you call me?” It doesn’t matter to her that you didn’t want to disturb her, because to her, you’re never a disturbance. It’s not a problem to have you around, even in public. She just feels bad that you waited instead of telling her, so she could have come much sooner.

- She takes you away from the station without any issues, letting you continue resting against her shoulder as a Kiramman private vehicle takes you both to her home.

- If you’re already in her room, she usually changes and lies down next to you, taking the chance to nap together, wrapped in each other's arms.

Mel:

- Falling asleep inside the Senate? Impossible.

- But the keys to her office and her room are always in your pocket, and you usually bring her something to eat when you visit, though by the time you fall asleep, both the coffee and the treats are cold.

- She’s not used to displays of affection, so she stays still for a few seconds before smiling and shaking her head.

- She doesn’t wake you immediately, not because she doesn’t want to, but because if the sound of the door didn’t wake you, you probably need the rest. So she lets you sleep for at least 30 minutes before coming over, brushing your hair behind your ears to wake you, laughing when you lift your head with your eyes still closed.

Sevika:

- The first thing anyone would think is that falling asleep at the Last Drop is extremely dangerous. However, Silco’s henchmen aren’t too different from bipedal dogs by now; they know who you are, recognize your face and scent, and if they notice you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, at least three of them sit at your table to ensure your safety.

- Sevika is always tasked with the worst imaginable jobs—tedious, long, and often dangerous—so when she finally returns, it’s usually either time to open the bar to the public or time to close it.

- Even when she sees you, she can’t come to you right away, so she makes a face at whoever is watching over you, as if urging them to protect you better while she heads into the office.

- Like Silco, part of her feels subconsciously softened by the idea that someone would feel the physical need to be with her so much that they’d wait, sitting until they fell asleep.

- But on the other hand, she’s terrified that someone might see you and come after you to settle personal scores in a cowardly way.

- When she finally comes down, she pulls you into her arms without saying a word, holding you under her large cape as she carries you away.

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rodolfoparras · 5 months ago

Text

Thinking about Vander being the type who’s reluctant to give up control, so used to taking care of everyone else instead of himself but every once a while he’ll let you take care of him, “you don’t have to do this,” he says as you start kissing his neck, voice already breathy as he tilts his head to give you more space. “I know,” you say with a soft smile on your face, swiftly shrugging off his shirt and latching your fingers onto his nipples that makes his body twist and bend in the most delicious ways “f- ah-fuck!”

Even while between his legs, lips kissing dangerously near his happy trail, right above the spot where his cock is pressing against his underwear he’ll glance down at the hard on you’re sporting before he says “you sure you don’t want me to take care of that?”

and when you finally get your mouth on him he keeps his hands to the side only small sounds escaping his mouth, willing to take whatever you give, never daring to ask for anything else but you want him to ask want him to take, want him to use you however he pleases.

So you take him so far til you’re sure he can feel your throat muscles working on his cock and he no longer can see where your mouth meets his shaft, persistently working your mouth on him til he’s got a vice like grip on your skull and practically shoving you down onto his cock, blunt nails scratching sensitive skin with every thrust. You even manage to sneak a spit slick finger against his puckered rim, causing the words faster harder more please ! to continuously roll off of his lips even though his rough movements have forced your mouth to go slack and he’s got his strong thighs locked around your neck, and he’s a already using you however he pleases

and when he cums, he cums hard, with a loud growl escaping his mouth, legs shaking before falling slack onto the mattress. But it’s not long before you take the ruined man into your lap, fingers cradling through his sweat soaked hair while delivering kisses to his tear stained cheeks “did so well for me, Vander,”

#arcane vander #arcane vander x reader #arcane vander x male reader #vander x reader #vander x male reader #vander x you #vander x y/n #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x male reader #male reader #reader #dom male reader #sub male character #dom reader

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fairy-writes · 6 months ago

Note

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long.

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place.

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why.

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved.

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could.

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you.

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox.

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later.

Only to pause by the door.

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again.

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic.

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over,

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum,

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding.

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that.

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind.

She always did overthink things.

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that.

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling.

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for.

To Vi and Powder especially.

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door.

Vander was close behind.

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory.

Like… Really dark territory.

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind.

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi.

She wasn’t looking too hot.

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again.

At least until she saw you.

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders.

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears.

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting.

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children.

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before.

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought.

Were you a doctor deep in your past?

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it.

And that hurt his heart.

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads.

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you.

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands.

You looked tired.

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples.

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs,

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug,

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag.

Vi was going to be okay.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum.

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said.

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair.

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher.

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces.

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces.

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased.

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so.

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths.

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter.

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked.

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared,

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother,

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them.

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door.

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys.

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on.

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing.

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed.

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care.

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly.

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer,

“On a date!”

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone.

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit.

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer.

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside.

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing.

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring.

#vander x reader #vander x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane league of legends #arcane: league of legends #arcane vander x reader #fairy writes

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aspenmissing · 10 days ago

Note

Hi! I have a request :P, could you write the arcane characters (or if you want only one, Silco or Viktor) with an artist reader and the Character finds out about their feelings when they happened to see reader's sketchbook open in a page where there are some drawings of them, and how do they handle the information they just received? Lots of fluff please :3 Have a wonderful day, you're amazing!

ᴀ ꜱᴋᴇᴛᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 7017 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ!! <3 <3

JAYCE

It wasn’t like you meant to leave your sketchbook open.

Honestly, it had been one of those days—the kind that blurs time and leaves everything hazy around the edges. You’d been in the zone for hours, smudged with charcoal from fingertip to elbow, your face bearing streaks where you’d mindlessly scratched an itch without thinking. You had every intention of cleaning up after yourself—clearing the desk, closing the sketchbook, maybe even eating something like a responsible adult.

But then the light changed.

The sun dipped low, bathing the studio in that late golden hour glow, the kind of warm haze that made everything feel soft and dreamy. You’d looked out the window for just a second, lost in thought, and somehow ended up wandering out without so much as a backward glance.

You didn’t know Jayce was on his way.

He showed up like he always did—unannounced but never unwelcome. He liked to drop by when council sessions dragged too long or when Mel’s voice became a little too polished, too political. He always said you were grounding. You always teased that he just liked your tea better than anything they served at the Academy.

Today, he came with a bag of pastries swinging from one hand and your name already on his lips.

“Y/N?” he called out, the door clicking shut behind him. “I brought those apricot ones. Vendor finally restocked. Thought you’d want to—”

His words caught in his throat.

The studio was quiet, filled with that lived-in mess that made it unmistakably yours. The scent of pencil shavings, drying oils, and faintly burnt tea leaves hung in the air. The workbench was a disaster zone, as usual—half-finished wire armatures, a cup holding too many brushes, reference books stacked like teetering towers. In the center of it all, your sketchbook lay open, like an invitation.

Jayce meant to leave the pastries, maybe scribble a quick note. But then he saw his own face. He paused, eyes narrowing as he leaned over. His breath hitched.

Sketch after sketch. Dozens of them.

Him smiling. Him lost in thought. Him from behind, half-turned, caught in the middle of a conversation. There were pages filled with variations—his profile in different lighting, the way his hands curled when he gestured, the lines of his jaw when he was deep in focus.

And then… there was the one that changed everything.

He was seated, hunched over, head tilted down. No armor. No bravado. Just Jayce—the man, not the hero. The loneliness you’d captured in that single image made his chest ache. You’d seen him. Not just what he presented to the world, but the quiet, worn-down parts he tried not to show anyone.

He stared at it for a long time. And for once in his life, Jayce Talis was speechless. He didn’t hear the door open behind him.

“Jayce?” Your voice was tentative, confused.

He turned, still half-stunned, and your heart sank the moment you saw the sketchbook in front of him. Your feet froze. Every thought in your brain evaporated. You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, just a broken string of half-formed words:

“Oh. Oh my God, that’s not—I mean, it’s not like—I didn’t mean—” You rushed forward, panicked. “It’s just practice. Just studies. I swear. Gesture and light and anatomy, nothing weird, nothing—”

Jayce looked up, eyes gentle. “Y/N.”

You stopped. He closed the sketchbook softly, almost reverently, and turned to you like you were something fragile and beautiful all at once.

“You drew me,” he said again, quieter this time. Not accusatory. Just… awed.

You opened your mouth, trying to salvage your dignity, but words failed. You pressed your hands to your face. “Please tell me you didn’t look at the one where your face is all weird and lopsided—”

“They’re not weird,” he said. “They’re beautiful.”

You dared a glance at him, and his smile—small, genuine—just about knocked the air out of your lungs.

Jayce stepped forward, his voice low. “Y/N, I’ve been drawn before. Publicity stills, formal portraits for the council. But no one’s ever made me look like this. Like I’m… worth looking at.”

Your throat tightened.

“I mean,” he continued, eyes flicking to the closed book, “the way you see me… it’s different. Softer. Kinder. It’s like… I don’t know. Like I matter.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Jayce speak so quietly, so vulnerably. You wanted to crawl under the table and disappear—and yet, part of you lit up like fireworks inside.

He reached out, brushing a smudge from your cheek, fingers lingering a second longer than necessary. “I always kind of hoped you might feel something. But I didn’t want to assume. Didn’t want to risk messing up what we already had.”

“You should’ve said something,” you whispered, pulse pounding.

He chuckled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, well… I was trying to be subtle.”

“You? Subtle?”

Jayce laughed, then tilted his head. “Alright, maybe not my strong suit. But pastries are romantic, right?”

You snorted. “In a very ‘I see you as a friend who’s probably hungry’ kind of way.”

“Okay, yeah, fair,” he admitted, eyes sparkling. “But what about kisses?”

That made your breath hitch. He was already leaning in, eyes flicking to your lips, hand still warm against your cheek. You didn’t pull away. Couldn’t.

When his lips met yours, it was soft. Careful. Reverent. Like he was still afraid he might be dreaming. You melted into it, fingers curling in the fabric of his coat, the charcoal on your fingertips smudging into the dark blue wool. The kiss deepened slowly, sweet and hesitant and long overdue.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing in sync with you.

Then he grinned. “So… can I keep one of the sketches?”

You groaned. “Jayce…”

“Come on. Just one.”

“They’re not even finished!”

“They’re perfect.”

You shook your head, exasperated and glowing. “Fine. But only if you sit for a new one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You have to sit still. No talking. No flexing your arms to try and look heroic.”

“Absolutely no promises.”

You nudged him toward the stool near the window, pulling a fresh sheet from your pad. “Flirt and I start over.”

Jayce held up both hands, laughing. “Okay, okay. Total statue mode. Scout’s honour.”

And as he sat there in the golden light, trying and failing to suppress his grin, you started sketching again. Not just because you wanted to capture his face—but because you never wanted to forget how this moment felt.

The studio was still. Outside, the city carried on. But here, in this little pocket of sunlight, it was just you and Jayce.

And for once, nothing was unspoken.

VIKTOR

It started as a typical day in the lab.

The soft chime of the clock tower echoed faintly through the high windows as golden morning light spilled across Viktor’s cluttered workspace. The smell of machine oil, old parchment, and faintly singed copper hung in the air, comforting in its familiarity. You stepped inside with a mug of warm tea, careful not to spill as you nudged the door open with your elbow.

“Morning, Viktor,” you called gently, not wanting to startle him.

He didn’t look up at first—his brow furrowed, fingers working a delicate wire into place on the edge of the hexcore—but a small smile crept onto his lips at the sound of your voice.

“Ah, good morning, Y/N,” he murmured, his accent soft and slow, like honey warmed over a hearth. “I hope you did not spend too long perfecting this blend.”

“I think you’re worth the effort,” you teased, placing the mug beside his elbow.

He glanced at you then, the smile deepening. “Careful. Say things like that and I might begin to believe you.”

You flushed, and not for the first time. These little exchanges had become the rhythm of your mornings—a dance of unspoken feelings stitched into shared glances and close proximity. You often stayed after dropping by, perched on a stool beside his desk, quietly sketching while he tinkered with inventions that balanced on the edge of brilliance and madness. He liked your presence, he once admitted. Said it made the silence less heavy.

That day was no different. The two of you worked side by side, words exchanged only now and then, enough to let one another know you were still there. A kind of peace settled between you, the way it always did.

Until you ran out of ink.

“I’ll be back in just a moment,” you told him, rising and brushing your hand on your coat. “Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Viktor replied with a small grin, not lifting his eyes from the hexcore.

You left your sketchbook behind, just like always. It sat on the windowsill, surrounded by his scattered blueprints and a chipped ceramic mug full of charcoals. You never worried about it—Viktor had never so much as touched your things without asking. He was meticulous about boundaries. Courteous to a fault.

But today... a gentle wind stirred the pages while you were gone, ruffling through the papers like curious fingers. One sheet fluttered open, then another, until it settled on a page toward the middle. The sketchbook stayed there, open to a secret you hadn’t meant to reveal.

Pencil drawings of Viktor.

Dozens of them—some detailed, others barely more than suggestions of his silhouette. They captured him in the way you saw him: absorbed in thought, smiling softly over tea, asleep at his desk with ink smudged across his cheek. One sketch showed him gazing out the window, unaware that you’d caught the moment.

In the corner, scrawled in your rushed handwriting, were the words:

“I wish I could tell you how much I care.”

Viktor hadn’t meant to pry. Truly, he hadn’t. But as he rose to stretch his legs, cane in hand, something about the fluttering pages drew his attention. And then—there. His own face, rendered with so much affection it made his breath catch.

His fingers hesitated just above the page, almost afraid to touch it. He recognized the softness in his expression—he’d never seen himself that way. He didn’t think of himself that way. To see it through your eyes, captured so delicately, made something tremble inside his chest.

And then he saw the words.

He exhaled shakily, sitting down slowly beside the book. His cane rested against the edge of the table, forgotten. With trembling fingers, he traced the lines of the sketch—traced the way you’d drawn his smile.

“Y/N...” he whispered, like he didn’t dare say your name too loudly in this fragile moment.

That was when you returned.

You stepped in with a new bottle of ink, calling out, “Found it! The apprentice at the shop gave me a discount because I—”

You stopped cold. The sketchbook was open. Viktor was staring at it. And not just any page.

Your heart plummeted, stomach twisting into something tight and painful. “Oh—uh—Viktor, I—”

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth opened, but words tangled in your throat like thorns. You wanted to run. To vanish. To rewind the morning entirely.

But when Viktor turned to face you, his expression wasn’t one of mockery or discomfort.

It was wonder.

"You draw beautifully," he said gently, voice hushed and reverent. “But I never imagined I would be... your muse.”

His cheeks were flushed, his golden-brown eyes soft and searching.

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“I’m glad I did.”

You blinked. “Wait... you are?”

He nodded, slowly, the way someone does when they’re still wrapping their head around something delicate. He rose with care, leaning on his cane as he stepped toward you.

His voice was quieter now. “Do you really care? As the words said? Or was it... only for the art?”

You met his gaze, and suddenly it was easier to speak. “I meant every word, Viktor. Every line. I didn’t know how else to say it.”

He stared at you for a moment longer—then let out a soft, breathy laugh. Almost relieved. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I have been trying to find a way to tell you the same.”

Your eyes widened. “You—you feel the same way?”

Viktor reached out, his hand hesitating in the air for a moment before he took yours in his. His fingers were warm and calloused, the grasp tender but steady.

“I do,” he said, his accent curling around each syllable like velvet. “I have, for a long time. But I thought perhaps... you only saw me as your strange inventor friend. The one with a cane and too many broken ideas.”

You shook your head quickly, squeezing his hand. “You’re so much more than that, Viktor. You’re brilliant. You’re kind. You care so deeply about the world and the people around you. You make it better—you make me better. And honestly? You’re a perfect muse.”

He laughed again—richer this time, cheeks flushed a lovely shade of rose. “Then perhaps... would you like to draw me again sometime? Maybe while we are out together? On a—how do they say—date?”

You beamed, heart practically bursting. “I’d love that.”

Still holding your hand, Viktor gently guided you toward the window. The sun had shifted, casting long beams of golden light over the open pages of your sketchbook. He glanced down again, his smile turning tender.

“May I keep this one?” he asked, tapping the page with the softest drawing of all—his head tilted back in laughter, a version of himself he never knew existed.

You nodded. “It’s yours. Always.”

And as your fingers remained entwined and the air between you shimmered with everything left unspoken finally said, it felt like something had shifted—subtle, but permanent.

No longer artist and subject. No longer just companions in the lab. But something more. Something real. Something that had been waiting—patiently—to be drawn into the light.

JAYVIK

It had been a long day in the lab, the kind that blurred together in a haze of equations, prototype failures, and Jayce talking animatedly about theoretical energy conduits while Viktor muttered corrections under his breath.

You had excused yourself early, leaving your sketchbook accidentally cracked open on the worktable — something you never did.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting amber light across the metal surfaces of the lab when Jayce finally noticed.

“Hey,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did Y/N leave their sketchbook here?”

Viktor, seated nearby with his cane resting against the table, looked up from his notes. “Hmph, they are usually more careful. They do not like others peeking, remember?”

“Yeah,” Jayce replied, but despite his words, curiosity tugged at him. The page was only half-open — a few pencil lines visible. A jawline. A sweep of hair that looked vaguely familiar.

Viktor stood, slower than usual, leaning on his cane as he approached. “Don’t,” he said softly, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced himself.

Jayce turned the page just slightly.

And froze.

There, in careful graphite lines, were sketches of both of them — Viktor leaning thoughtfully on his cane, eyes lost in some brilliant idea; Jayce with his sleeves rolled up and his usual confident smile. They weren’t just quick doodles — they were… intimate. Honest. Admiring.

One sketch had Jayce reaching out to touch Viktor’s shoulder, while another had you nestled between them on the workbench, laughing, as they each looked at you with unmistakable affection. It was imagined — but it felt real.

Viktor let out a slow breath. “Oh… bože můj.”(My god)

Jayce scratched the back of his neck, face a little pink. “Did you know they felt this way?”

“No,” Viktor replied, tone hushed and gentle. “But perhaps… I should have. The way they look at us sometimes.”

Jayce looked down at another drawing, this one of Viktor reading quietly, a soft smile on your imagined face as you watched him. “They see us in a way we don’t even see ourselves…”

There was a beat of silence, then Viktor chuckled under his breath.

Jayce blinked. “What?”

“I am just thinking,” Viktor said, voice light and fond. “This is possibly the most romantic confession I have ever seen, and it was completely unintentional.”

Jayce grinned. “Yeah… I mean, who draws their crushes with this much care unless they’re really in deep?”

They stood there in the quiet hum of the lab, gazing down at the pages. Then the door creaked.

You stepped in with a thermos in hand, freezing in the doorway as you saw both of them hunched over your sketchbook like guilty children.

“Wait—NO!” you cried, rushing forward, cheeks flaming. “You weren’t supposed to see that—!”

But Viktor reached out gently, placing a hand on yours before you could snatch the book away.

“Miláčku,” he said softly. “You do not need to be embarrassed. These are beautiful.” (Darling)

“I— I didn’t mean for anyone to see them, I just…” You looked at the floor, clutching your thermos like it could save you.

Jayce stepped forward too, his voice soft, warm. “Y/N, do you really feel this way? About… us?”

You opened your mouth, shut it, and then nodded miserably.

“I know it’s probably ridiculous,” you muttered, “and I never wanted to make things awkward. I just— I care about both of you, and I guess it came out in my art…”

Viktor tilted his head, gaze fond behind his golden eyes. “You know,” he murmured, “I was rather afraid that you saw me only as the grumpy scientist with a cane.”

Jayce laughed. “And I figured you’d be more into the brooding genius types.”

“I am into the brooding genius types!” you blurted, and then immediately wanted to sink into the floor.

Viktor chuckled. Jayce’s grin widened.

“So,” Jayce said, his voice lowering just slightly as he stepped closer, “what if we told you… we might feel the same way?”

You blinked. “What?”

Viktor took your free hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “We’ve both… noticed you. For some time.”

“And we’ve talked about it,” Jayce added with a sheepish grin, “after a few very flustered coffee breaks. We just didn’t know if you’d ever feel the same.”

Your heart pounded. “Wait, you both…?”

“We’re scientists,” Viktor said with a playful smirk. “We believe in finding the best solution. And, in this case…” He looked at you, then at Jayce. “I think we already have.”

You were breathless, wide-eyed, and beaming. “Are you guys seriously saying this is mutual?”

Jayce nodded. “Why don’t we go back to your place? Order some food. Talk more. See where this goes?”

Viktor leaned in with a mischievous twinkle. “And maybe you can draw us again… but this time, we will pose properly.”

You laughed — a little shaky, a little overjoyed. “Only if you let me sketch that ridiculous pout you get when Jayce takes the last cup of coffee.”

Jayce groaned. “No promises.”

But your fingers stayed laced with Viktor’s, and Jayce's hand brushed your back as the three of you headed out together — hearts full, no longer wondering.

Just beginning.

VANDER

The Last Drop was unusually quiet for once.

The lull between lunch and the evening crowd gave you a rare moment of peace, the kind that felt too delicate to last. A light breeze filtered through the cracked windows, stirring the scent of hops, old wood, and the faint metallic tang of Zaun’s ever-present smog. It was the sort of silence that felt like it belonged in a dream.

You tucked yourself into your usual corner booth, sketchbook cracked open on the table, a stub of charcoal balanced between your fingers. This was your sanctuary—a stolen moment to draw without the bustle of clanking mugs or yelling children. Your strokes came easily today. It always did when you were drawing him.

Vander was behind the bar, humming low and steady as he dried mugs with an old rag. The tune was familiar, one of those old Zaunite lullabies he hummed more often when he thought no one was listening. You glanced up at him, just for a second, and then your hand moved on its own. His strong arms, the broad lines of his shoulders, the way the soft light from the windows hit the grey streaks in his hair—it was impossible not to draw him.

You barely noticed the clatter upstairs until Vi’s voice cracked through the calm.

“POWDER! Why is there a frog in my boot?!”

Your eyes widened. “Oh no.”

You bolted from your seat without thinking, abandoning your sketchbook wide open to the page you’d just finished. Charcoal dust smudged the edges where your palm had rested—right next to the most recent drawing of Vander, eyes crinkled with laughter, head tilted back like you’d captured a secret moment no one else had seen.

Upstairs, Vi was wringing her sock out with a grimace while Powder looked on, guiltily holding a frog that didn’t seem particularly remorseful. Claggor was trying to keep the peace, and Mylo was stirring the chaos just for fun.

“Y/N! Powder did it again!” Vi barked as you arrived.

“Okay, okay, let’s just—everyone breathe,” you said, trying not to laugh. “Let’s get the frog out before it becomes a permanent part of the furniture.”

It took a few minutes, some bribery, and a minor frog-chasing incident, but the situation resolved without injury or property damage. Powder was pouting. Vi was barefoot. And in your rush to de-frog the boot, you had completely forgotten what you’d left behind downstairs.

Mylo spotted it first.

His voice floated out before the others even realized what he was doing. “Hey, what’s this?”

She climbed onto the bench and leaned over your sketchbook curiously, flipping a page.

“Mylo, don’t touch that!” Powder said in a shrill whisper as he reached for it.

“Too late, already did,” he said, his grin spreading like wildfire as his eyes scanned the drawings. "Wait… is that—?"

“That’s Vander!” Claggor interrupted, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

All four of them leaned in, the page fully open now. The drawings varied in detail and tone—some serious and delicate, others playful and stylized. But every single one of them was undeniably him.

Vander laughing. Vander tired, wiping sweat from his brow. Vander’s hand resting on the bar, calloused and strong. And one, subtle and sweet, of him holding a bouquet of wildflowers—a page from your imagination.

Vi let out a low whistle. “Y/N’s got a crush.”

“And it’s on Vander!” Mylo snorted with glee. “I knew it!”

“I thought they were just being weird around him ‘cause of nerves,” Powder said, her voice a mix of wonder and excitement. “But this is way better!”

Claggor looked at the door thoughtfully. “…Should we show him? Or is that kinda mean?”

Powder tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “It’s romantic.”

Vi had already grabbed the sketchbook. “It’s honest,” she said with a shrug, heading down the stairs with a smirk. “Besides, better he hears it from the art than us.”

You came back downstairs just in time to see her place the open book right in front of Vander on the bar like it was a peace offering.

“Hey, old man,” she called. “You ever seen yourself looking this romantic?”

You froze on the stairs, stomach dropping. No. No no no—

Vander raised a brow and looked down, expecting some childish scribble or joke. But his face changed the moment his eyes found the page. His brows lifted slightly, and for a heartbeat, the whole world seemed to hold its breath.

He reached out slowly, his large hand gentle as he flipped through the next page. And the next. Each one unveiling another carefully drawn piece of your heart.

A breath caught in your throat. “Vander, I—”

He looked up, eyes soft in a way that made your knees want to give out.

“You drew all these?” His voice was quiet, reverent.

You nodded, mortified. “Yeah. I didn’t mean for anyone to see them, I—”

He closed the sketchbook delicately and walked around the bar, still holding it like it was something fragile. When he reached you, he didn’t speak at first. Just took in the expression on your face, the nerves trembling behind your eyes.

“They’re beautiful,” he said, his voice like velvet and old oak. “You’ve got real talent, Y/N.”

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

Vander tilted his head, reaching out with a rough, calloused finger to tip your chin up gently until your eyes met his.

“And if I didn’t know better,” he added, his voice lower now, “I’d say these were drawn by someone who might care about me… more than just a friend.”

You swallowed hard. “I do.”

That smile—that slow, warm, Vander smile—spread across his face like sunrise over the Lanes. It crinkled the corners of his eyes and made your chest ache.

“Well,” he said, his tone suddenly softer, more vulnerable. “Good. Because I care about you too.”

Your eyes widened. “You… do?”

He chuckled gently. “You think I let just anyone draw hearts around me?”

You laughed—half nervous, half overwhelmed—and then he pulled you into his arms, careful and sure. His hug was warm, all-encompassing, the kind that made you feel safe down to your bones.

“Next time,” he murmured against your hair, “maybe you could draw us together.” Behind you, there was a collective groan.

“EWWWWWWWW!”

“You guys are so gross!” Mylo yelled, covering his face like he’d just witnessed something traumatic. Vi, of course, was laughing her ass off.

Claggor fist-pumped. “Called it! I called it!” Powder tugged on your sleeve, her eyes bright with delight.

“Can you draw me and Vander next? But like… with him as a big fluffy bear and me riding on his back with a spear?”

You burst out laughing again, cheeks burning, heart full. You looked up at Vander, who was still holding you close, sketchbook tucked under one arm like it belonged there.

“I think I can manage that.”

SILCO

Silco wasn’t looking for anything. That’s what made it worse.

It wasn’t that he was particularly curious about your things—he wasn’t the type to go rummaging through your personal belongings. He valued privacy—his own and others’. But this, this was different. You’d left your sketchbook out on the arm of the couch, flipped open and half-covered by a crumpled sweater you’d discarded in your usual way. A moment earlier, you’d left the room in a rush, muttering something about needing more ink for your pens. He was only half-paying attention. Silco had enough on his mind as it was.

He wouldn’t have paid it any mind, truly—if not for the gust of wind from the ceiling fan that fluttered the pages just enough for a charcoal sketch to catch his eye.

And then everything changed.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen his face drawn before. You had a habit of sketching him—he knew that much. You’d sketched him many times in the past. But this… this was different. It wasn’t just a portrait. It wasn’t just a study of his features.

It was him—but not him.

His face, yes. His form. But in a way that made something inside Silco stir, something deeper than the hard, cynical shell he’d so carefully cultivated. His expression was softer, almost relaxed, which was a rarity for him. His eyes were closed. His features were at rest, unguarded. It wasn’t the image of the man who ruled, the man who commanded, the man who had the weight of the Undercity on his shoulders. No, this was a version of Silco that most people never saw. Vulnerable. Quiet. Almost human in a way that felt strange to him.

One drawing had him seated in his office chair, his hands loosely folded over his heart as if to protect something inside. The line of his jaw was sharper than it looked in real life, the shading a perfect blend of shadows that made his face almost haunting. But it was the expression that held him—something so delicate, so rare.

Something that Silco had never shown anyone. Not even himself.

A strange feeling settled in his chest, something he didn’t know how to name. He hadn’t even realized how much of himself he’d kept hidden, locked away until now. This—this was different. These weren’t just technical renderings. These were moments of quiet affection, of trust, of raw emotion that you’d captured in ways that almost made him feel it.

He slowly turned the page, his gaze moving over more drawings. There he was again—his figure outlined in light, in shadow, a hand stretched toward something. But what caught his attention next was a drawing of him smiling, something so faint but unmistakably soft. It was almost as if the sketch was an unspoken invitation—a moment where he wasn’t a ruler, wasn’t a threat, but a person. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to.

The drawings dated back weeks, maybe even months. You had been doing this for some time.

And he had never noticed.

The weight of the realization pressed down on him. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information he’d stumbled upon. The idea that you’d been looking at him like this—seeing him in a way no one else ever had, seeing him as more than just the monster that everyone feared… it undid him more effectively than any blade ever could.

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, unable to tear his eyes away from the sketches. The more he looked at them, the more he couldn’t deny it. You felt something for him. Something that went beyond mere respect, beyond the dangerous dance of political maneuvering that had kept you both tethered together in a delicate balance. These were the quiet confessions of someone who loved him.

And in that moment, Silco realized—he didn’t want to just be the subject of your art. He wanted to be real for you. The version of him that existed in your sketches—the vulnerable, softer version of himself—was a side he longed to share with you. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but he knew that for once, he wanted to be seen. For who he really was.

You returned a minute later, stepping back into the room with a triumphant look on your face, a small jar of ink in hand. “Found it!” you said, clearly pleased with yourself.

And then you stopped. Frozen. Because the moment you saw him sitting there, holding your sketchbook, you knew exactly what had happened.

Your heart lurched, and before you could stop yourself, the words escaped you. “Silco—”

His gaze met yours, and for the first time, there was no sharpness there, no cold distance. There was something else entirely.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” he said quietly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “The wind… turned the page.” He let out a quiet breath, as if this was some kind of unexpected revelation, and closed the book gently, his gloved hands lingering on the cover.

The air between you two grew thick, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You were caught, exposed, vulnerable. Every part of you wanted to apologize, to backpedal and make some excuse, but then his eyes met yours again—his expression unreadable but… not angry. Never angry.

He reached out slowly, deliberately, and traced a line on the page with the tip of his finger. “You see me,” he murmured, his voice low, but not cold. “In a way I never believed someone could.”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “I— I didn’t—”

He shook his head, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was barely there, but it was enough. “You must’ve known I’d see it eventually,” he added, gently placing the book back on the couch, where it had been.

Your breath caught in your throat. “I didn’t mean for you to,” you admitted. “I—I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought… I thought if I couldn’t say it, I could at least draw it. But… I didn’t expect you to see it. Not like this.”

He stood slowly, his long coat trailing behind him as he crossed the distance between you two in quiet steps. “And how long,” he asked, his voice low but somehow teasing, “have you been looking at me like that?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You had no idea how to answer that. “A while,” you finally whispered, feeling your cheeks flush.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re braver with ink than with words,” he said, the words so unexpectedly tender that it made your heart skip a beat.

You laughed, feeling the tension between you ease just a little. “I guess I thought if I couldn’t say it, I could at least… draw it.”

Silco reached out then, his hand brushing lightly against yours, sending a shiver up your arm. His touch was almost reverent, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile moment was between you. He gently took your hand, his gloved fingers cool against your skin.

“Then allow me to respond in kind,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher now. “If you were to draw me again, Y/N… draw me like this.” He stepped closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips just a hair's width away from your skin. “Draw me with you. Because I believe—” his thumb traced over your wrist, sending a shock of warmth through your body, “—I’ve been looking at you the same way for quite some time.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath hitching in your throat. “Really?” you whispered, unable to believe what he was saying.

“I don’t make a habit of sentiment,” he said, his voice a little gruff, but there was something softer in his eyes, something more genuine than you’d ever seen before. “But for you? I think I could learn.”

And then, in that quiet, intimate moment, he pressed a soft, careful kiss to your cheek—so tender that it made your heart ache with the intensity of it. The kiss lingered, just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his lips and the sincerity in his touch.

You closed your eyes, letting the moment wash over you, and knew then that this version of him—the one who shared a smile, a kiss, a quiet vulnerability—was the version you wanted to remember forever.

SEVIKA

It had been a normal day in the undercity, thick with the usual hum of clinking glass and murmurs of the bustling tavern. Sevika sat at the bar, her sharp eyes sweeping over the chaotic crowd, effortlessly monitoring the room, while her attention also lingered on you—the quiet artist who’d become a comforting presence in her life. You were an enigma to her, a calm and steady figure among the noise, always there but never in the way. Over the months, she had found herself growing fond of your quiet demeanor, the way you seemed to float through life, observing rather than being observed.

Tonight was no different. You both shared a quiet corner of the bar, the flickering light of a few candles casting a warm glow over the worn tables. A low conversation passed between the two of you, punctuated by soft laughter and the clinking of your drinks. Sevika found herself easing into the comfort of your presence, the easy flow of words and shared silences. It was a relief to have someone who didn’t expect too much, yet seemed to understand her more than anyone else ever had.

You stood up for a moment, walking over to the counter to grab another drink. Your sketchbook, which you always carried with you, was left open on the table. Sevika's gaze, already attuned to her surroundings, flicked down without thinking, drawn to the open page in front of her.

At first, it was the usual—simple sketches of people, fleeting moments captured in your delicate strokes. But then, something caught her eye.

There, staring back at her, was her own face.

Sevika froze. She knew it was her instantly, but it wasn’t like any sketch she’d ever seen of herself. This wasn’t just a quick, rough outline; it was more. The lines were soft, almost reverent, as if you had taken great care to capture something deeper than her physical appearance. The way the shadows hugged the curve of her jaw, the gentle way her eyes were outlined, as if you had seen beyond her hardened exterior. A chill ran down her spine, and for a moment, her breath hitched in her chest.

She hadn’t known this was how you saw her.

She turned the page slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of the paper. There was another sketch—this one of her standing tall, framed against the gritty backdrop of the city. It was less detailed, but there was something about the way you’d captured the stance, the unspoken confidence in the linework. Then, another, closer up—her face half-lit by dim streetlight, a rare smile on her lips, the kind she only allowed when she thought no one was watching. You had seen that side of her.

Her gaze lingered on the next page. This time, it was her again, but this time, her eyes met yours in the drawing. The intimacy of it, the intensity in the eyes—your eyes, locking onto hers—made her heart skip. There was something vulnerable in the way you’d captured that look, something real, and it was impossible to ignore.

Sevika’s breath caught in her throat. These weren’t just sketches. These were pieces of you. And she had no idea you’d been feeling this way.

Her fingers hovered over the paper, her mind racing with emotions she couldn’t quite name. You’d been hiding this, all these feelings, and she hadn’t even noticed.

But before she could process her thoughts any further, you returned to the table, catching sight of her studying the sketchbook. You froze for a moment, your eyes flicking nervously between the sketches and her unreadable gaze.

“Sevika,” you said, your voice softer than usual, laced with a tinge of panic. “I… um, I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Sevika didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she simply closed the sketchbook with a quiet snap, her expression unreadable for a few seconds. Then, slowly, the corners of her lips curled into a teasing smirk, one that made your stomach flip. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t notice, but it’s pretty damn clear how you feel now, isn’t it?”

Your face flushed a deep shade of red, and you shifted awkwardly, your heart thudding in your chest. “I didn’t mean for it to be so obvious…”

Sevika chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a rush of warmth through you. Reaching across the table, she took the sketchbook from you and set it aside with a casual motion. Then, for the first time that night, her gaze softened, and she leaned back in her chair, looking at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You’re not the only one who’s been hiding something, you know,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it before.

Your brow furrowed, confused. “Hiding something?”

Sevika met your gaze head-on, her eyes intense, but something else flickered behind them—something warm. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me. And I’ve wondered, for a while now, if maybe… I’m feeling something too.”

You stared at her, your thoughts swirling in disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

Her smirk faded, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but raw honesty in her expression. “Yeah. I do. And I’m not gonna make this complicated. I’m not good with words, or gestures, or whatever it is people expect. But you’re important to me. More than I thought anyone would be. So just… know that.”

Your heart skipped in your chest. The weight of her words settled over you like a warm, gentle embrace. “Sevika…” You took a shaky breath, trying to process the sudden rush of emotions flooding through you. “I—”

Before you could finish, Sevika’s hand reached across the table, gently resting on top of yours. The touch was surprisingly tender, and it made your heart beat faster. There was no bravado, no guard up—just Sevika, as vulnerable as you had ever seen her.

“I like you, okay?” Her voice was low and rough, but it carried a softness that made your insides melt. “I think I’ve liked you for a while now. And I just… didn’t know how to say it.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. “I… I really like you too, Sevika.”

She let out a soft chuckle, pulling your hand closer and pressing her lips to your knuckles for a brief, gentle kiss. “Good,” she murmured, her voice rough with affection. “’Cause I don’t think I could handle you hiding behind all those drawings forever.”

In that moment, everything felt so simple. The unspoken words, the shared vulnerability, the way your hearts had finally come to the same conclusion. The distance between you two, once so large, melted away with that one soft kiss.

And as the sounds of the tavern buzzed in the background, you knew that this was only the beginning.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you

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deathbxnny · 5 months ago

Note

May I request some headcanons about Victor, selika, Vander and Vi about caring and being with a S/O with ADHD.

Please and thank you

Arcane characters with an s/o that has ADHD. | Viktor, Sevika, Vander and Vi

Thank you for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: No spoilers for season 2, season 1 Viktor, established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He was the first to notice and accommodate to your ADHD, mainly as he knew what it's like to live with something that makes life a little harder in general.

Viktor is very patient and gentle with you when you're having a hard time focusing on tasks or are procrastinating on projects. He understands it just fine and works with you to find strategies that make everything a bit easier. Whether it's studying with you or helping you out on research papers, you both spend a lot of time together, to say the least.

You two enjoy working on your own things in eachothers presence, as it helps you get over your lack of motivation and gives you a chance to talk his ear off freely. Thankfully, he's good at multitasking when it comes to you. Some may think your talking is excessive, but he finds it cute.

Whenever you're a bit more fidgety than usual, he'll hold your hand or give you a reassuring smile, yet doesn't stop your body from regulating itself naturally.

Viktor takes your diagnosis as a simple fact, nothing that defines or undermines your ability to be his s/o. If you need a little help, then he's very clearly okay with that.

》SEVIKA

She doesn't initially understand the concept of ADHD and doesn't care much about it either. Sure, she gets that it affects your day to day life, but she was going to help you out with anything either way even without the diagnosis. So, in other words, she's ready to learn and do as you please.

Your fidgety nature was something she definitely had to get used to, as she mistook it as fear or nervousness rather often. This typically meant that she'll ask you if you're alright a lot or if there was someone bothering you. Over time, she learns to look past it and see it as a natural part of you. If you can't sit still, then she'll let you roam around whilst her eyes watch you closely.

Your endless ramblings and deep interests about the most nichest topics also needed some time for her, but what got her the most was your procrastination issues. She did get not want to do things at all, but she would still attempt to make work as fun as possible in her own way. She'll accompany you everywhere and take care of the heavy lifting.

When she said that she was loyal, she was definitely not kidding around. Your ADHD changes nothing about the way she views you, and so she doesn't make a big deal out of it either.

》VANDER

Probably the most patient and understanding of your ADHD and its symptoms by far. He sees them as a part of you in a good way and simply accepts them as they are.

Whenever you procrastinate on chores or work, he'll try and make it more enjoyable by either helping out or promising you a nice treat after. If it's really bad, though, he'll just do things himself to not stress you out about them too much.

He's the same with your lack of focus, although he sometimes does get concerned about you zoning out when things get serious. Vander will still find his own innovative ideas on making you focus when he needs you to.

He loves listening to you talk to him about the most random things possible, mainly as it shows him that you're comfortable enough with the care he gives you. He also just enjoys weighing in with his own opinions about the many various topics you bring forth at rapid speed.

Either way, he skillfully navigates your diagnosis with ease and doesn't ever let you feel like you're burdening him with it.

》VI

Well, she certainly may have outlandish ideas at times when it comes to working with your ADHD, but she definitely at least has the spirit for it!

Your natural fidgeting and inability to stay still gets interpreted in you just needing to power yourself out. This makes you often find yourself in front of a punching bag with an excited Vi telling you to go ahead and let it alllll out. Whether it works or not is up to you, but you appreciate the effort even after you had explain it wasn't that easy.

Vi will make it her mission to help you out on projects or with work whenever the procrastination gets too bad. She'll also help you out with simpler tasks when she can but will otherwise try to make things fun, at least.

You two enjoy rambling away with each other, and it is her favorite thing. You're both bad at focusing on one topic at a time, so your talks can go on for hours, which she loves very much.

Your diagnosis is just a part of you that she very much loves, even when it gets difficult at times. She never wants you to feel left out or liked less because of it and does her best to never let you think that.

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slut4megantheestallion · 2 months ago

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⋆ ☆Arcane characters - with a big boob S/o Headcannons

Characters: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Vander, Sevika, Silco, Jayce, Viktor, Ekko.

Warnings ⚠️: Fluff, suggestive themes, slight nsfw, teasing, groping.

-Vi

●She's shameless about it. Vi is very handsy and loves to grab them whenever she gets the chance, especially when she's hugging you from behind. Loves laying on your chest after a long day, mumbling about how lucky she is. In public, she might sneak a hand around your waist and "accidentally" brush again your chest, just to see you squirm. "C'mon, babe, you can't blame me. They're right there."

-Jinx

●Absolute menace. She'll poke, squeeze, and jiggle them just to get a reaction out of you. Jinx loves burying her face between them, claiming it's her "stress relief." Will 100% use them as a pillow while lying on your lap. Loves making dirty jokes about them in front of people just to see you blush. "Damn, I could get lost in these - oh wait, I already did."

-Caitlyn

●At first, she tries to be polite about it, but she notices. Caitlyn enjoys resting her head on your chest when you’re alone, but she gets flustered when you tease her about it. Sometimes, she gets distracted during conversations, her eyes flickering down before quickly looking away. If you ever wear something revealing, she struggles not to stare. “Ahem… your outfit is quite—uh, nice today.”

-Mel

●Absolutely adores them. She loves luxury, and to her, your body is no exception. Mel enjoys dressing you in elegant, form-fitting outfits that accentuate your curves. She’ll trail her fingers down your cleavage absentmindedly while talking, making it seem so casual yet intimate. During private moments, she takes her time appreciating them, whispering sweet praises in your ear. “You truly are a masterpiece, my love.”

-Vander

●He’s a gentleman, but he appreciates them. He loves how soft and warm you are when he holds you. If you ever wear something revealing, he clears his throat and looks away, but his ears turn red. When cuddling, he rests his hand on your waist, but if they’re pressed against him? Yeah, he’s struggling. “Damn, sweetheart… you’re really testing my patience.”

-Sevika

●She’s dominant and makes it known. Loves grabbing them, especially when making out. She’ll tease you, squeezing and kneading them just to hear you whimper. If you wear something tight or low-cut, she’ll smirk and say, “You’re just begging to be touched, huh?” Definitely loves leaving marks on your chest. If you try to cover up, she’ll pin your hands away and make sure you don’t.

-Silco

●He acts composed, but your body is very distracting to him. His hands naturally gravitate towards your waist, but if they brush against your chest? He lingers. Silco enjoys seeing you in fine lingerie, admiring the way the fabric hugs your figure. When you sit on his lap, he lets his fingers ghost over your cleavage, his voice smooth and teasing. “You do enjoy testing my restraint, don’t you?”

-Jayce

●He’s a flustered mess. You’ll catch him staring, then immediately looking away like he wasn’t just ogling you. If you press up against him, he short-circuits, especially if it’s unintentional. Jayce enjoys holding you close, his hands tracing your curves as he whispers sweet compliments. If you ever tease him about it, his face turns bright red. “I—uh—I wasn’t looking! Okay, maybe I was, but can you blame me?”

-Viktor

●He’s subtle but so into it. Viktor loves resting his head against your chest when he’s tired, claiming it’s the “perfect pillow.” He’s usually focused on his work, but if you lean over his desk with a low-cut top, he notices. Will sometimes cup them absentmindedly while cuddling, but if you call him out on it, he coughs and mutters, “Ah, well… they’re quite… nice.”

-Ekko

●He tries to play it cool, but he gets flustered. Loves when you hug him because your chest is right there. He won’t make it obvious, but his hands always find their way to your waist. If you ever tease him about staring, he just grins and shrugs. “Hey, can you blame me? You’re kinda hard to ignore, babe.”

#fem!reader #vi x reader #arcane Headcannons #arcane fluff #arcane smut #jinx x reader #caitlyn kirraman x reader #mel medarda x reader #vander x reader #sevika x reader #silco x reader #jayce talis x reader #viktor x reader #ekko x reader

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xetlynn · 3 months ago

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arcane imagines- vander

it’s (no longer) quiet

pt 2, to this [it’s quiet]

prompt: :)

“Love, could you take that customer. Gotta open a new box.” Your husband passes you, give your thigh a light tap while doing so. You hum in response, nodding your head.

Lately you haven’t been feeling too well. Nausea hitting you like a truck. A lump constantly stuck in your throat.

Sweat also seems to be never ending in your pores. Giving you that awful oily look that you despised. Heading over to the lady sat at a table, peering over the drink menu. Swallowing down hard you force a smile upon your lips. “What can I get for ya, hun?” Your eye is slightly twitching. “What do you recommend?” She glances up to you and you don’t have the chance to hide the grimace that etched your facial expression.��

You try to play it off, covering it with a bigger smile. “I’d have to go with a plain ol’ Sazerac.” You tell her, which is truly one of your favorites and it’s quite easy to make. “I guess I’ll go with that then.” The lady grins, closing the menu and clasping her hands together. Your shoulders slump, grateful that she wasn’t a difficult customer. “Be right back with that then, my love.” You head back over to the bar.

As you make the simple drink, you open the absinthe and the smell of herbal like licorice hits your nose instantly. You gag, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Vander plops down a box of unopened alcohol, raising a brow over at you. Silently you excuse yourself, rushing to the bathroom. Pushing past two randoms. Shoving the stall door and falling to your knees as you throw up. The toast from this morning violently came up.

Vander went to follow after you but a customer stopped him from doing so, complaining about his drink order. He mentally curses but knows once you come back he can question you about what just happened.

You flush the toilet, huffing as you stand back up from the disgusting floor. Going to the sink and washing your face and hands. Staring in the broken mirror that you’ve had to replace multiple times already. You observe yourself, looking pale compared to your normal complexion. Your eyes sunken in. A hot mess.

Sighing you had an idea of what was happening but you plead that you were wrong. Your husband already explained how he felt, so if this was happening. You had no idea how to go about this. How to tell him. Another part of you secretly hoped that it was happening. That selfish part of you.

You snatch a paper towel, wiping off your hands and face before tossing it in the trash and leaving the bathroom. Fixing your posture. You go behind the counter, making a quick soda and downing it to get the wretched taste out of your mouth. The carbonation burning your throat as it seeps down. Slamming the cup down you go back to making that stupid drink. Holding your breath as you pour the absinthe this time.

Not noticing that your husband was watching you the entire time. How you didn’t make yourself your own sazerac like you normally did everytime a customer ordered one. Sipping on the drink throughout your shift.

And later that night after closing, you didn’t even take a shower. Going straight to bed and passing out as your body hits the mattress. Not even covering yourself with the blankets. Which was something that you strictly had to do every night. But fatigue got the better of you. Vander changed your clothes for you, knowing how much you hate outside clothes in your bed. He’s a little worried about your behavior. He hopes you’re not coming down with something.

Because when you’re sick, it hits you extremely hard and you don’t let anyone help you even though you obviously need someone to. His independent wife. He climbs into bed after his own shower, turning the lamp off and letting you curl into him. He feels your forehead and thankfully you’re not hot but you are sweating. A sign he still doesn’t like but much preferred over a scorching fever.

•••

You wake up in an empty bed, drenched in sweat. You gaze over to the clock beside your bed, tired. Your eyes widen once you see the time. Two hours past the time you were supposed to open the bar. You shoot up, grabbing clean clothes and heading to the shower. “I don’t even remember falling asleep last night.” You whisper to yourself, wracking your brain for the memory of the night before. As you take your clothes off, clothes you again don’t remember even putting on, you grow irritated with yourself.

“I need to get a test.” You murmur, climbing into the shower and taking a swift, quick shower. Washing off the disgusting sheen of sweat that covered your skin.

You throw your clothes on, attempting to look as presentable as possible, rushing to the front of your house. You don’t even see the figure standing in your doorway as you try to find your shoes. “Mom, if you’re looking for your shoes you should give up.” The voice startles you, your heart beating through your chest as your glare up at your eldest daughter. “Vi,” You puff, clenching at your heart. “Gonna give your old woman a heart attack.” You pout.

She apologizes through a laugh. “Dad said you were sick, so he opened with Claggor’s help. Go back to bed.” She crosses her arms and you raise a brow. “He turned my alarm off.” You state, clearly upset with Vander.

“You’re sick, of course he did.” Violet steps over to you and you roll your eyes. “I’m not sick.” You disagree and she gives you a look. “What? You don’t believe your own mother?” You point a finger at her. “Calling her a liar? Cause if you are you got another thing comin’-”

“Mom.” She puts her hands on your shoulders and you slump down. “Okay, fine. I’m possibly coming down with something.” Your head falls as you lie. You couldn’t tell her that it’s actually, probably from being pregnant. How do you tell your daughter that? “Go lie down, dad sent me to take care of you for the day.” She shoos you back to your bedroom and your jaw slacks as your feet move underneath you. “I’m not a child!” You exclaim.

“Just go rest.” She orders and you let out a breath in disbelief by the treatment you were receiving. You kick off your work pants, changing into sweatpants and you lay down in your bed. Glaring at nothing, annoyed with your loving family. But as you calm down you realize you can take today to get that pregnancy test from the store. You’d just have to figure out how to get Violet to leave to do so.

Thirty minutes pass and Violet comes into your room with a steaming bowl, she hands it to you and you stare down at it. Tears threaten the brim of your eyes immediately. “Is this-” You choke on your own words and Violet stands there awkwardly. “It’s your old recipe, the soup you made us as kids.” She finishes your sentence and tears stream down your face as you start to eat it. “Uh… why are you crying?”

“You’re so cute, oh my gosh.” You sniffle, shoving spoonfuls in your mouth dramatically. “I can’t be-believe you remembered!” You sob and Violet starts to panic. She didn’t know what to do at that moment. She’s rarely ever seen you cry before. “Sit down with me.” You tell her and she hesitantly listens.

“I have to tell you something.” You wipe your tears away. She nervously looks around the room, wondering what the next words out of your mouth are going to be. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Even Cait.” You stick a pinky out to her and she smirks down at your hand. You taught them what pinky promises were, using it as more of a “promise to behave.” type of thing. Not to promise to keep a secret. That was something you were heavily against.

“No secrets in this household.” You’d all point to them as they lined up in shame after you figured them out for the umpteenth time. “A secret, mom?” Violet tilts her head to the side and you shush her.

“Don’t think of it as a secret… think of it as… a uh something kept between you and I. Our little thing.” You smile softly and she deadpans at you. “That’s a secret.”

Your face falls. “Whatever, nevermind. Leave me and my soup.” You shrivel in place, now eating with a frown. Eyebrows furrowed as you do so. “Fine, fine, I promise.” Your daughter sticks her pinky out and you take it with a mouth full of the food she made. Shaking her pinky before letting go. “Okay.” You sit back up.

“Wow, okay. I don’t know how to say this.” You chew at your bottom lip, thinking this through. “I uh, I think. That doesn’t sound right. Um…” You stammer helplessly, Violet was beginning to get antsy. Staring at you. “Mom.” She places a hand on your knee and you sheepishly grin. “Sorry.”

“I think I’m pregnant.” You blurt out and Violet sits there silently. Her eyes widened, her mouth open in shock. “I don’t know for sure. I just, I’m having all the symptoms you know. My boobs are quite sore. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?” You ramble on to your daughter who can’t even comprehend what she was just told. “Are you going to say something or am I going to keep talking like an idiot? I just told you, you might have another sibling.” You blink at her, slurping on the soup once again, acting incredibly nonchalant.

Violet seems to have snapped out of her chance as she closes her mouth and then opens it back up to speak. “You and dad still do it?” She asks and you look taken aback. “Still? What?” You place the bowl on your nightstand. “I mean, like you guys are kind of older… I didn’t know you could still get pregnant. I don’t actually want to know that you and dad do it. That’s gross.” She says, grimacing in disgust and your face twitches downward. “Old!? I’m 38! And it’s perfectly natural! I walked in on you and Caitlyn so let's not forget that.” You throw your hands up, shoving a finger in her face. Her face turns red at your words. “Oh my god.” She covers her face and you laugh. “You promised you wouldn’t bring it up!” She cries out and you bear your teeth, giving a small apology.

“Anyways… are you sure?” She grabs your now empty hands and you take a deep breath. “I don’t know, I need to take a test. Make an appointment with a doctor.” You tell her truthfully. “I can go get you one, if you want?” She offers and you shake your head. “Nah, I’m gonna go. If you want to come with you can, though.” You say, standing up from the bed. Taking your dirty dish with you.

“Does dad have any idea?” Violet asks, walking beside you as you guys head into the store. “No, I don’t even know how he’s going to react.” You press your lips together.

•••

Getting back to your house you notice the lights are on in the living room, your face falls. Violet goes to open the door but you stop her. “Your dad’s home, hold on.” You mutter, shoving the pregnancy test in your pocket. As you do so the door opens loudly. Vander standing there with a disappointed expression. “Love, why can’t you just rest.” He grumbles. You grin up at him, your face turning warm by the fact that you were almost caught. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Vi, I got it covered. You can go.” He exasperates and she glances over to you. You nod your head, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll tell you later.” Side hugging her as you whispered into her ear. “Tell Cait I said hi.” You wave her off as she walks away. “Will do!”

You then face back to your husband who’s facial expression never falters. “Get back to bed, please.” He gives you space to move past him. “I gotta go pee first, am I allowed to do that?” You ask him in a smart tone. He runs a hand through his long hair, shaking his head. You stress him out. “I guess.” He gruffs, and you hurriedly rush into the tiny room. Slamming the door behind you.

Vander patiently waits for you, leaning against the couch. After about ten minutes he begins to wonder what you’re actually doing in there. He goes up to the door and as he lifts his fist to knock he hears you sniffling. “Love?” He speaks worriedly. You clear your throat, “yes?” Trying to hide the wavering in your voice. “You okay in there, didn’t fall in, did ya?” He jokes and you let out a small giggle through the tears. ��No, I didn’t fall in.” You almost inaudibly say before opening the door.

Showing the two tests that sit on the counter. His eyes automatically flicker over to them. It was quiet between the both of you as he picked them up. “I peed on those.” You warn him. He ignores you though. Staring at the bright double lines that show on the plastic sticks. “You’re pregnant?” He doesn’t look at you, still kept on what's in his hand.

“Yeah… I’m sorry.” You whisper, letting shame engulf you. His head snaps in your direction, dropping the tests. “You have nothing to be sorry for, [Name]. What are you on about?” He forces you to look up at him.

“I know you don’t want this.” You shutter, crying for the third time that day. His face softens. “Love, why would you say that?” He asks you. “You said it, you said we don’t have the time for a baby. And we agreed a long time ago we wouldn’t have biological children. That our four we had were enough!” Your body wracked with sobs as you explained. He thinks back to the conversation in the bar before… your fun activities. He bites his bottom lip, looking down at you.

“Well, we kind of didn’t do anything to prevent that from happening these last two months.” He scratches the back of his head. Ever since that night 60 days ago, the two of you had been going at it like teenagers. “B-but-”

“[Name], my love, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.” He brings you into an embrace. “You want to keep it?” You peep up at him from his chest as his large arms engulf you. He smiles. “Of course,” he cranes his neck down to peck your lips. One of his hands going up and wiping your tears.

“We’ll make an appointment for next week.” He says, still holding you close to him.

He stares down at the pregnancy tests, it wasn’t ideal for sure, not exactly planned but he knows the both of you will be okay. This baby will be loved just as much as your other children. He grows excited to see what the mix of the two will look like. Also thinking about how plump you’re going to get. Your stomach that will grow round with him. Your breasts that he remembered you said were already tender the other day.

You admire him, pondering what his thoughts could be. That gets cut off by getting poked in your stomach and your lips etch upward. Your eyes innocently peering up at him. “You like the fact that I’m pregnant?” You tease him and he scoffs. “That your seed took and I’m going to have your baby.” You purr in a sultry tone, pulling away from him and reaching up. Grabbing his face and making him look down at you.

“Hm, my dear husband?” You ask and his heart skips a beat. Your tear stained face smirks up at him. “Keep talking like that and you won’t be leaving the house for a while.” He grunts, you take that as a challenge.

“Like what?” You ask, a hand going to your stomach. “I’m just stating the fact that you impregnated me… fucked me so good while doing so.” Your eyes don’t leave his, watching his facial expressions. How his eyes dilate and go dark with lust.

Abruptly he lifts you in the air, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Gonna keep you on bed rest this wwwhhoolee pregnancy, my love.” He growls in your ear and you giggle excitedly. Attacking his neck with kisses.

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beskars · 17 days ago

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If you haven't gotten too many requests yet... a short drabble where reader gets a sneaky squeeze on Vander's butt in behind the bar and he immediately retaliates

long night

The Last Drop is packed tonight. You've been working in tandem for hours, sliding past each other with barely a breath between you, the dance of service requiring constant awareness of each other's movements.

When Vander reaches past you for a bottle on the high shelf, his substantial frame temporarily boxing you against the counter, an impulsive thought becomes action before you can reconsider. Your hand drops briefly, giving his backside a quick, teasing squeeze before attempting to duck away to serve another customer.

You don't make it two steps.

His large hand catches your wrist, deftly spinning you back toward him. Before you can register what's happening, his mouth is at your ear, beard tickling your skin as his deep voice rumbles low enough for only you to hear.

"If you wanted to touch me that badly, love, you should have just asked. I'd be happy to give you much more to hold onto later."

Heat floods your face immediately, spreading down your neck as you register his words. When he pulls back, the dark promise in his eyes combined with the slight curve of his mouth—that rare hint of a smile—only intensifies your reaction.

He releases you then, returning to service with his usual composed demeanor while you remain momentarily frozen, your mind racing with implications that have nothing to do with the drinks waiting to be prepared.

"Everything alright?" he asks after a moment, that hint of satisfaction in his tone making it clear he knows exactly what effect his words have had on you.

"Fine," you manage, voice embarrassingly unsteady as you try to recollect your scattered composure.

"Good," he replies, brushing deliberately against you as he passes. "Because we've got a long night ahead of us."

masterlist | drabble requests

#ik i have only posted vander ones today sorrrryyyy #i will work on some silco drabbles tomorrow cause i have some great requests!#but this one was too fun to resist #vander x reader #vander arcane #beskarsfics

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 5 months ago

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Arcane Musings: Vander (NSFW)

A/N: This will be a new series where I just ramble about characters!! I'll do it for different series and whoever I'm brainrotting about at the moment <3

Warnings: NSFW, sex, mentions of breeding, marking

Ask Box: Open

Vander is such a sweet man. It shows through his tender kisses, the way his hand is always on the small of your back. His touch is comforting and warm. The way he always tilts your neck to the side, his arms pulling you into him as he silently asks for more.

He isn't rough during sex. He hates to be rough with you. His calloused hands will run along your body as your legs wrap around him. He whispers sweet nothings into your ears as he preps you with his fingers. You’re practically whining the whole time, wanting to feel him, needing to feel him.

When he finally presses the tip of his dick into you, you’re in heaven. God, you love him so much. You love the way he stretches you out so deliciously good, your back is already arching. Vander doesn’t say it, but he’s prideful of the fact he can make you come undone so easily.

His cock hits you so deep. Slow, languid thrusts combined with him saying how much he loves you, how you feel so tight around him make you buck your hips desperately against his. It’s almost frustrating how he’s never rough, always takes things slow.

If you’re lucky and needy enough, Vander will let out a small huff and go harder. Just for you. He’ll switch positions, angling so he hits you deep. And fuck, does it hit deep. Your mind will start spiraling and going off the rails.

You don't want kids. The thought fills you with anxiety but oh god when Vander has you pressed deep against the bed, his cock hitting parts you didn't even know possible, all you can think about is how much you want him to breed you. How you want to feel his hot seed deep inside of you, to fill you up until you're overflowing. It drives you crazy.

By the time you two are finished, his body is riddled in marks. Bright red scratches on his back, bite marks on his shoulders, and hickeys on his neck. God, you loved when he looked like that. He loved the feeling of the marks. He loved you so much.

#x reader #fanfic #arcane #arcane x reader #vander #vander x reader #arcane vander #arcane vander x reader #vander arcane

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justgrey · 1 year ago

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I have something worse up my sleeve on Vander that idk if im gonna post that includes the shimmered up version of him we see for 10 seconds before he dies and some bussy gobbling if yk what i mean 😈🥱🔥

Vander x Reader - General Relationship HC's

Warnings: Swearing cuz we fukin' balling

Beefy

b e e f y

He gives really great hugs, obviously. He's got so much meat on him that he feels like a really large pillow, and I'm here for it. And if you're reading this, I guess you're for it too 🤷‍♂️

Crazy protective, too. Man doesn't love easily after what happened with Silco, but when he does, mwah, you are not leaving his sight for longer than an hour before someone on his side is just "keeping an eye on you"

Vander loves jokes. Especially dad jokes. Because he's a dad. Please joke with him. Please, his kids always respond with "ughghh" and all he wants is an adoring audience. Please be that for him.

"What's the time?"

"It's... time to get a watch!" *big goofy grin*

"Hah- hahahahhahahahhaahhaahhaha please, Vander."

"Right, sorry. It's a quarter past seven, love."

👉👈

Anyway, Vander loves nicknames. Like, a lot a lot. He loves nicknames. What one's? Great question. Take a guess. He loves playing games with you and this is one of those games

Guess.

If you said anything along the lines of sweetheart, love, sweetie, or honey. You'd be right. He loves using generic nicknames with you because he wants to be as domestic as possible.

He likes to feel like his life is as normal as can be despite it being absolutely the opposite of that. He loves his children, and he loves you, so why not make the most of it? At least, that's what he figures.

The wackiest shit happens sometimes. There's a real mix of interactions in his little family and we living for all of them.

"Can you pass the sa-?"

*glitter bomb explosion from Powder's bunk*

"Oh, for the love of- POWDER, ARE YOU OKAY?!?"

His kids are all extraordinary. Mylo is very charismatic and is able to talk his way out of a lot of trouble, Claggor is great at lifting heavy shit, Vi can punch the daylights out of everyone, and Powder has the potential to be a great inventor someday. His goal is to inspire them all to be the best versions of themselves and to always be kind when they're able to despite living in the meanest area around.

You are also very intertwined with his children's lives to the point where they're basically your kids as well. If you didn't want that, break up with him. He's a package deal. All or nothing.

"Hey... what's that you're tinkering with, Pow Pow?"

"It's a bomb."

"It's a what."

"She means- uhm- it's full of confetti...? For... For Mylo's birthday! Y'know, that's totally coming up soon."

"Wait, my birthday isn't-"

"Yeah, yeah... for Mylo's birthday!" *innocent smile*

"For some reason... i d o n ' t b e l i e v e t h a t . . . Just... just stay out of trouble. As much as possible."

The kids treat you like a member of the family as well if you couldn't tell. They latch onto you, some take longer than others but they all eventually view you as their other parent.

First it was Powder, then it was Claggor, followed by Vi and then Mylo a little later on.

Vander actually wants to make it official with you someday and make you stay with him and his family forever by proposing to you, but with the current state of the Undercity, he may never get to. He's a busy, busy man, trying to hold the Lanes together. Sometimes, he gets too focused on that and forgets to share his attention around when crime is really bad.

But even just being around helps him out 🫡

Thanks gang 👍

#vander x reader #arcane #arcane vander #vander arcane #arcane vander x reader #arcane x reader #i love men #big beefy men #i need a big beefy man #where da bears at #jinx #powder #arcane jinx #arcane vi #arcane mylo #arcane claggor

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waerwena · 4 months ago

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so, i miss vander so much i decided to write something to let it out/// i usually dont write so sorry if there're any mistakes///

this is just a little sketch about if reader (you) meet vander once again in an alternative universe///

vanderxfem!reader song by Mako & Grey – What Have They Done to Us (I love it I love it I love it, it soo perfect for this, it so matches the characters, I cry every time I hear it)

"as you wake up in a cold sweat"

It was dark all around, too dark. The body wouldn’t obey, and the mind kept shutting down; it felt as if consciousness was floating somewhere in weightlessness, far, far away from you. Then there was a voice calling you by name. “Professor?” A sudden flash of bright colors rushed before your eyes, and the darkness around you began to gradually dissipate. You were lying on the ground, and the professor, with a worried expression, leaned over you; for a moment, it seemed like he was smiling. Your mind was still resisting, and the bright light began to make you feel nauseous.

My dear, you scared me a bit when you passed out; I was already thinking about running for help. And I did warn you that lifting such heavy things all at once is not advisable and...

You tried to sit up. "Professor... what... where are we?" The professor, too engrossed in his chatter, turned and looked at you intently. "Where are we...?" he echoed, "what... oh!" Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "My dear, you’re back! After we were consumed by Hexgate I was just waiting for you both to appear here." You grabbed your forehead in a sudden bout of pain. The professor's words once again dissolved in a whirlwind of colorful spots and dots. "Ekko still hasn’t woken up yet," you heard him say, "but I think he will be soon..."

You couldn't remember anything after you descended to the gates, only a bright flash and then darkness.

"You know," the professor continued, "I think we should go back. He will be worried."

"He? Ekko?" You rubbed your forehead with your palm; the pain began to subside, and your senses started to return to you.

"little girl what goes on in your head"

In the distance, you could hear muffled children's laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the hissing of air. You looked around; you were in an alley of The Undercity, but it felt like something had changed. Nearby, there were boxes scattered with shards of glass. Apparently, when you felt unwell, you had dropped them from your hands. The professor approached and placed a hand on your shoulder, as if he were gathering his thoughts to say something. His gaze reminded you of that day when you were told that Vander had died, and the professor had carefully chosen his words to comfort you. As if words could heal a broken heart.

"all this hatred in your heart, yet i mourn the most for all the things that i never said"

“We really need to go back,” he finally said after a long silence that was unusual for him.

“Back where?” You were still struggling to perceive your surroundings, but it was undoubtedly one of the alleys in the Undercity. The professor approached a side door of the building you were near and, after a brief hesitation, opened it and gestured inside: “Back to the bar.”

"Bar???” There was only one bar in the Zaun – “The Last Drop,” but after Vander’s death, it had become more like a tomb, filled not with ghosts but with memories. After a bit of effort, you got to your feet and leaned against the doorframe. You could hear laughter and music coming from inside. You were surprised; it seemed crowded in there, which felt so strange to you. You looked at the professor, but he just smirked conspiratorially and soon disappeared down the corridor. You sighed and followed him, trying not to trip in the dim light among the numerous boxes. Reaching the door to the main hall, you reached for the handle, but suddenly the door swung open, nearly hitting you in the face.

“Oh, sorry, I thought no one was here. But, by the way, since I found you, I want to ask you something.” In the doorway stood a girl with blue hair; she reminded you of Vi when you last saw her. “Powder. Jinx?”

“What?” The words slipped from your lips as you stared at each other. The blue-haired girl beamed at you with a wide smile: “You have to help me sew a dress to wear for the contest! Just imagine, when we take first place, I have to look awesome!”

You were still processing her words as if they were in another language: “A-a dress…?” “Why is she here? Didn’t Silco take her? Isn’t she a criminal now?” Powder leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest: “What’s wrong with you? Did you hit your head? Remember, Vander brought a bunch of fabric from somewhere and told us to ‘have fun’ and…”

You weren’t listening to her anymore; at the sound of his name, everything around you began to plunge back into darkness, your heart seemed to leap to your throat, cutting off your breath. “Vander. Did she say Vander?”

"dont make me go through this again"

You looked over Powder's shoulder. The spacious hall was filled with people; they were laughing, drinking, and some were swaying to the music. Streams of light poured through the glass ceiling, creating whimsical patterns of light among the crowd. Your heart was pounding so fast that it felt like it would break through your ribcage and then shatter into tiny pieces. “Sorry,” you whispered to Powder, gently pushing her aside. Your gaze darted around the hall, as if searching for something, and then you turned it toward the bar. There were quite a few people around it too, and at one point, the thought that he might be there seemed absurd. “He’s dead.” At those words, old pain surged like a wave, piercing through you, and your insides clenched from an invisible blow. “He’s gone.”

You pushed your way to the bar, nearly elbowing patrons in the stomachs. The last person you bumped into on your way to your goal was Benzo, who was peacefully sipping a drink.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” he grunted, and you froze in confusion. “Benzo killed the monster Silco.”

“I…” you managed to squeeze out, “sorry, I… I…” You no longer looked at him; your gaze was fixed on the man standing with his back to everyone, polishing a glass. “No, no, no… what?” Your thoughts tangled, the ground seemed to disappear beneath your feet. “This is some kind of joke. It can’t be him.”

"you’re not real and i can’t pretend"

“Hey, Vander, something’s going on with your girl” Benzo coughed and buried his face in his glass, taking a noisy gulp. The man behind the bar turned around, giving you a warm smile.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? " His voice was deep, warm, and soothing, and you suddenly realized how much you had missed him. The pain again pierced sharply somewhere in your chest, and you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. The man's expression immediately turned worried. "Dear, what happened? " Still gasping from tears, you went around the bar and clung to the stunned man with both hands. Burying your face in his broad chest, you whispered: "Vander!" He hugged you in return; his large hands enveloped you completely. "Whoa, what’s going on? You heard his laughter rumble inside him, "We saw each other just five minutes ago, not that I’m complaining…" You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, still not believing that it was really him. He cupped your chin with his fingers, pulling you closer to his face and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. "I can close up early today if you want." He ran his thumb across your cheek, his eyes watching you closely. You shook your head, still pressing against him with your whole body. "It's okay, I wouldn't mind watching you work. Just don't go." Vander looked at you confused. "I wasn't planning to." You let out a quiet sob. "I know, but..." You fell silent as the man brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. "You know I would never leave you. You, Powder, and the boys. Never." You smiled sadly; you didn't want to let him go right now. You don’t know where the Hexgate sent you but you were happy to see him again. Alive.

"I miss you so much, Vander, if only you knew."

#im so ashamed of this smh #my friend said its fine you should post it #i died #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #vander x reader #arcane vander x reader #vander x you #my gifs

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honey-tongued-devil · 7 months ago

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▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]

If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!

Jayce:

- It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm

- But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different

- When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions

- It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look

- And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day

- It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts

- Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second

Viktor:

- For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one

- He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway

- That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet

- What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer

- The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you

- And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body

- Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them

- For the nights when he feels lonelier

Ekko:

- Communism

- There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore

- The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it

- But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes

- Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket

- It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it

- And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you

Vander:

- Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you

- When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by

- And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin

- “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else

- After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift

Silco:

- Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places

- Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them

- The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it

- Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his

- That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you

- But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe

- “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump

Jinx:

- Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare

- She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean

- It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it

- It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it

- Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable

Vi:

- Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed

- Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it

- That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month

- The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you

- When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt

- She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to

- But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others

- That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life

Caitlyn:

- Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need

- And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen

- So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform

- Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you

- It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you

- The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers

- There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often

Mel:

- For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you

- “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked

- It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body

- It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something

- But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless

- When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her

- And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects

- Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare

- Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had

Sevika:

- Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous

- But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders

- And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers

- It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do

- And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours

- But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it

- In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously

- And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable

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