#mel and sevika

[knightesspo]

Happy Black Visibility Month to everyone. Decided to simply combine two projects with amazing graphics.. Sooo

[words-and-yearning]

Tell Me

(I'm gonna post this on AO3, but I have to wait to get an invitation because I have never posted on there before. I hope to make more chapters of this fic).

(CW: light dub-con)

The bride-to-be dips her thin-pointed makeup brush into her small container of black eye paint, carefully applying a black line beginning at the edge of her eye near her tear duct and ending at the edge closest to her ear. She leaves a small empty column in the middle on both eyes. She picks up another small brush and dips it in a container of gold eye paint, filling in the empty column on both her top and bottom eyelid. If a mistake is made, she swiftly and neatly wipes it off with a makeup wipe and retries; always perfecting her second attempt.

“Now, that’s better,” satisfied with her work, she concludes her makeup routine with a layer of setting spray: exactly four spritz and approximately five inches from her face.

Mel regards herself in her vanity mirror, tilting her head to manipulate the light’s effect on her face. There are no imperfections: her contour is both perfectly blended and perfectly carved; her lipstick does not exceed past the lining of her lips; her eyeshadow color remains obedient at eyelids (unlike in her elementary years of applying makeup, where accidental specks of eyeshadow can be seen at cheeks and chin). After inspecting her manicured nails for any residue of dark brown foundation, she returns her engagement ring on the rightful finger.

“Hm. Perfect”, as it should be. As it is. Mel’s life should be perfect. She acquired the perfect job as the youngest CEO of Piltover Technologies. She’s acquired the perfect lifestyle; meaning while working full-time, she can also travel where she pleases on her own dime and on her own time. She’s acquired the perfect man; a humble beginner who’s proved himself time and time again at her company. It only makes sense for them to end up together. It only makes sense for them to marry.

Mel’s eyes move from her face to her hair and back up to face, as if something were missing.

Something has always been missing. Living to exceed the strict standards of her mother always left a gaping hole where the feeling of accomplishment should reside. Lucky for her, Mel’s mother loves Jayce, her soon-to-be husband. “He’s intelligent yet impressionable. Strong, but moldable. The perfect man, in my opinion.” Her mother then went on to ramble about how great of a father he would make, but Mel stopped listening from there. There was a time in which she wanted that from Jayce: marriage and children. But something within her shifted. Something that she cannot place.

Her friends have long realized her funk, as they could always read Mel like a book. “What’s troubling you, darling?”, Elora, her life-long friend asked one day as they sat in the balcony of a popular beachfront brunch spot.

At the time, Mel picked at her soup and lightly sipped her jasmine tea, “Promise me you won’t tell a soul.”

“Of course”, Elora promised. She was genuine, but she also leaned forward attentively, hungry for the details Mel was soon to relay to her.

“I can’t get married to Jayce”, Mel said, slowly. She looked up to see Elora’s jaw to the table. “Please don’t look at me like that! I don’t know what it is.”

“Mel, honey, please tell me you’re joking.”

“There’s no one else if that’s what you’re wondering”, Mel reassured. “I loved him at first, I really, really did. But something shifted, I don’t know how to explain it. Our love, now, seems… transactional…scripted… like a performance.”

“Mmmhmm”, Elora hummed, as if she successfully diagnosed her best friend’s problem. “You know what I think? I think you’ve spent too long being independent. Sure, you’ve had a fling with a guy here or a hookup with a girl there, but you’ve never truly given yourself to another person. Having Jayce is, honestly, a brand-new concept for you.”

Mel sighed, “We’ve been together for two years, the concept isn’t ‘brand new’”.

“Au contraire, my love. Dating is one thing, marriage is another. It is a ball game. An unfair, dangerous, and humbling ballgame.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

Elora laughed. “You know what you need? A bachelorette party! Just you, me, and the girls! We can take you to this place I’ve been eyeing and- oh Mel stop trying to cover my mouth! It’s a good idea!”

Now, as Mel awaits Elora’s text to meet her out at her front door, she wonders if it is a good idea. Although she doesn’t believe in the traditional meaning of a bachelorette party (the idea that it is your “last day of freedom” is appalling to her), it wouldn’t hurt her to step outside of her shell and into some nightlife.

Mel’s phone pings with Elora’s contact name in a little box on her home screen.

You ready, party girl? the message reads.

With one last look over and a nod to the mirror, Mel sets off into the night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going”, Mel asks the group as she applies another layer of lipstick after determining that the color was not bold enough to her liking.

“Hush, hush, we’ll be there moment”, Elora laughs the laugh of a person who has had too many shots of tequila.

“How are you already drunk at my bachelorette party?”

“Me? Drunk? Noooooooo”, Elora and the rest of the girls (around six girls in the limousine in total) cackle in unison. Mel predicts that tonight will not be short-lived.

The limousine turns right into the parking lot of a small but vibrant building. A sign just beside the building labels it “The Black Rose”, with each letter except the assumed “O” in neon, dark purple. A neon pink rose replaced the missing letter “O”.

“Where are we?”, Mel has never heard of this place, but judging from the packed parking lot and the countless shadows of bodies within the grandiose windows, she could see that it was fairly popular.

The women are dropped off towards the front of the line. Mel flashes her I.D. to the bouncer, and they are allowed in with zero questions. Immediately, Mel realizes that this club is different from the others around the city. For one, the bouncer was a tall woman with pale skin, dark tattoos, and brazing red hair pulled back into a tight bun. Although she wasn’t the normal bulky man that Mel was used to seeing guarding the entrances of nightclubs, she was just as intimidating. Within the club, there is a grand stage that takes up one third of the floor. Mel watches as numerous female dancers dressed in erotic clothing spin on poles located on the sides of the stage, while numerous others are dancing in chairs towards the front. This is where she notices the primary demographic of the nightclub: women. Butch women. Feminine women. Young women. Older women. Every variation of woman is both the provider of entertainment and the recipient.

“A lesbian nightclub?”, Mel shoves Elora, but she can’t say that she’s angry.

“Surprise!” Elora throws up her arms and performs exaggerated jazz hands. “This place is golden! I promise, there’s no way for you to get bored here!” She leads the group to the right side of the stage—to the left side houses the bar and a mysterious hallway leading to a secret backstage—which holds several chairs with a piece of paper taped to the back, curtly reading “reserved: “Mel bach party”. The women sit and watch as various dancers take the stage and captivate their audience with erotic performance.

After two margaritas (and several cowgirl acts), Mel could finally say she was having fun. Cheering on the performers, slipping five-dollar bills into their waistbands, and singing along to their chosen playlist. She understands Elora’s intention to bring her out into the world of looser rules, but how is this supposed to fix Mel’s most pressing problem?

Before she can ask, a voice—the host—bellows from the speakers: “Ladies and gentle-ladies, we didn’t think she’d show tonight, but you know she can’t stay away from y’all for too long! Please welcome to the stage Sevika!”

To say that the crowd is roaring is an understatement.

As the performer takes the stage, Mel notices that she is not like the others. While the other dancers flaunt revealing, feminine, and sparkling outfits, this one sports only a brown cropped tank top, cargo shorts that are ruffled at the edges, and faux combat boots. Usually, an outfit combination like this would make Mel gag in disgust, but the performer absolutely owned the look. The bronze lighting above the stage created perfect shadows that contoured her well-sculpted shoulders and arms (her left arm a visible, metal prosthetic). Her hair is short and straight, but thick; and it is pulled into a half up half down style. The woman’s head is held high; her jaw tight and well-defined; her facial features broad and stern yet seductive and genial.

The performer scans the make-up of her audience, then thrusts her hips towards them, revealing a happy trail that Mel’s eyes gladly follow. Sultry music gradually fills the room as the performer sets herself on the chair, legs spread open as if waiting for someone to crawl on their knees and take their chance with her. Mel is unable to hear the music over her racing heart. For some reason, this woman is making her body react in ways that should only be reserved for her future husband. Mel watches the performer’s lips closely as she mouths to the words of a Bobby Valentino song, heat rising from her chest to her ears. She crosses her legs as if to avoid an intense urge but makes the sensation more diabolical.

“Mel! Mel”, how long has Elora been calling her name, Mel doesn’t know. Elora gives Mel a confused glare then follows her eyes to the performer, then looks back at Mel, then gasps. “No way! Oh, fuck yeah, we’re doing it! Hey, Sevika!” Mel’s best friend since childhood, who has definitely never done anything to intentionally embarrass her, waves down the performer.

Sevika turns her head towards the group. Mel covers her face in shame.

“Hey, Sevika! We have a bride-to-be over here!”, Elora is now standing in her chair pointing to Mel for the performer—and every person in the club—to see. With a coy smirk on her face, Sevika rises from her performance chair and strolls towards the edge of the stage, the shrieks of the girls around her grow louder as Sevika moves closer to the group.

With her hands still cupping her face, Mel hopes that Sevika realizes the amount of social pain that she is in and searches for another victim. But she instead looms over the group, her confident gaze meeting Mel’s. The bronze and pink lighting creates a halo around her as she holds her hand out in invitation.  

Dear god… Mel knows she shouldn’t, but how can she say no?

As Mel takes Sevika’s hand, she realizes hers are far more damp and shaky in comparison. Nonetheless, the performer leads her new catch to the chair in the middle of the stage. The crowd screams, but Mel’s group can be heard above them all. Mel slowly settles into the chair. Sevika then leans over her, their faces mere centimeters apart. Mel’s deep browns focus on Sevika’s clear greys. She’s never seen eyes so intense yet so beautiful. The performer brings Mel’s hand to her lips and places a shy kiss on her knuckle.

“May I have this dance, Princess?”, she says.

How is every part of this woman sexy?

Mel realizes she may have spoken too soon as the music shifts from Bobby Valentino to Fergie. In an instant, Sevika slams one muscular leg on the arm of the chair and makes exaggerated hip-thrusts towards Mel, poking out her butt extra hard for the crowd behind her. Mel shrieks and covers her face, which she bets has gone dark purple from sheer embarrassment. Sevika then turns around, grabs either side of the chair, and proceeds to give Mel a lap dance. The word “princess” has never suited her so perfectly, as Mel had no idea what to do with her hands or her body. How are you supposed to behave when someone is shaking their ass on your midriff?

Mel chooses to shriek louder, spurts of laughter interrupting her screams of shock.

By the time the performer finishes. Mel is crying with laughter and waving her hands in front of her face. She can hear Elora shouting “Get it, Mel!” over the applause of the audience. One large hand grabs Mel’s waist as another grabs her hand. Before she is led off the stage, the performer turns Mel around to face her. The woman, Mel now notices, stands a head taller than her. With a gaze of genuine concern, Sevika asks “You’re good, right?”.

“Y-yes”, Mel doesn’t know why she stutters. “I’m okay, I had fun.”

“Good,” Sevika’s eyes takes in the entirety of Mel’s face, as if there weren’t one hundred other people in the room. “Room 17.”

And with that, Mel is led off the stage.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Any other day, Mel would think throwing back shot after shot would be brash and messy. She prefers to lightly sip on something sweet to allow for the gradual, methodical effects of alcohol to swoon her mind and body. But this isn’t any other day and she doesn’t have time for gradual or methodical; so she throws back at least 5 shots of tequila. Her face sours as she sucks on the provided lime slice, not at the flavor, but at what she is about to do.

“Girls, I’m going to be gone for a while, but I’ll come back… soon… probably”, Mel looks over to her group, and they’re giving her suggestive looks back. “Oh, come on, don’t judge! I’m not gonna do anything, I’m just having some fun!”

Nobody says a word.

“And she’s the one that invited me, so—”

One of her friends cackle, “Go ahead and have your fun, babe!” Mel searches for Elora to provide an opinion, but she is already on the dance floor back against the pelvis of the muscular, red-headed security guard.

Past the bar and to the left of the stage is the dimly lit hallway that Mel noticed when she first entered the club. Although the entrance sported translucent curtains, there was nothing substantial to bar anyone from entry. Mel parts the soft fabric and searches the plaques above the doors—which were merely beads hanging from a doorframe-- for her destination.

4…

6…

12…

16…

She turns her body to the left. 17.

As Mel stood in front of the doorway of temptation, she was hit with a sudden reality: What the fuck am I doing? Before she can turn on her heels and rejoin her party, a low voice calls from within the room: “Come in, Princess.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Hardly matters, does it?” Mel is already five steps in the room, so obviously it doesn’t matter.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Why did you come?” Sevika pulls a drag from a cigar Mel did not notice until now. Mel usually hates the smell of tobacco, but this scent was less aversive and more sweet.

“To…um… talk I guess”

“Talk?” Sevika laughs. “Well, come talk over here, darling”. She pats the empty space next to her on the sofa.

Mel sits and she finds the sofa dangerously too small. There is no avoiding Sevika’s intense eye-contact. Her palms begin to sweat, and her heart quickens in pace, but she forces herself to not show any outward emotions. Sevika looks comfortable, actually, more than comfortable as her eyes travel across Mel’s frozen body like a novel map; her eyes lingering at destinations she would love to explore.

“I’m getting married soon”, Mel says as more of a reminder for herself rather than a direct statement to Sevika.

“So I’ve heard,” Sevika flicks ash off the edge of her cigar. “Come here.”

Mel reluctantly obeys, curling herself to fit in between Sevika’s legs. “Are you happy”, Sevika asks through a puff of smoke.

“Of course I’m happy.”

“I don’t know a lot of happy women that accepts invitations from a dancer,” Sevika chuckles. Mel’s grows hot. “But, hey, we don’t have to think about it.” The hand that wasn’t holding the cigar moves from the back of the sofa to Mel’s knee, and from Mel’s knee to her inner thigh below her dress; her thumb caressing the bit of space leading to her vaginal folds.

Mel reacts in a way that she shouldn’t. Her breathing hitches as her heart skips several beats. Her hips jerk slightly upwards, as if reaching for a certain sensation from Sevika’s touch. Her hand rushes to Sevika’s to move her hand away, but Sevika remains firm in her position.

“I invited you back here, because I thought you were interesting”, the daring woman stifles what’s left of her cigar in the ashtray on the adjacent table. She brings that metallic hand to rest on Mel’s arm as her other hand moves closer to a dangerous zone.  “Out of every woman I’ve seen pass through this place, you’re the most beautiful.” Her thumb lightly presses at Mel’s clit, still hidden behind the thin fabric of her underwear. “You’re the most polished. What are you doing in a place like this?”

Mel struggles to catch her breath but manages to find her voice, “I-um-my friends brought me here. For fun.”

Sevika’s lips trail Mel’s ear. Her breath breezes her cheeks, doing very little to dissipate the burning beneath Mel’s skin. “Is this fun?” Sevika is now palming at Mel’s core, causing her to gasp in both surprise and relief.

“Huh? I asked you a question.” The edge of her palm rubs harder. Mel presses her body further against Sevika’s, one hand instinctively anchoring the back of the stronger woman’s neck. Sevika breathes a laugh in Mel’s ear sending a ripple effect to her clit. “Come on, Princess. Tell me what you want.”

Mel’s grip tightens and her body presses further into Sevika, her ass creating friction at Sevika’s sensitive area. Sevika groans. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers breach the lining of her panties and slowly fingers at Mel’s clit. Mel’s eyes flutter shut and a moan escapes from her mouth.

She knows this is wrong. She needs to stop. We need to stop.

“We can’t…” Mel’s voice is barely above a whisper.

 “What?” Sevika’s finger continues to rub at a breathtaking pace, barely allowing time for Mel to produce a full sentence. The smaller woman attempts to find her voice, but she’s too far gone in the sea of pleasure and desire. She knows she needs to stop, but she wants a release. She wants Sevika to fill the gaping hole in her life that’s been aching to be filled.

Mel grabs Sevika’s wrist. Sevika teeth grips her earlobe. She grunts, “Let go, Princess. This is what you came here for.” Mel’s ashamed of the noise that she makes.

“Mel?”

Both women spring from their positions, as if they were caught in a crime. Mel rises from the sofa and looks to the doorway. Luckily, the familiar voice did not enter the room but instead called from the hallway.

“Hey, Mel. Anteria just threw up and uh… yeah we gotta go… she’s not doing too well”, Elora is still drunk, but from what Mel can tell she is still the most responsible one of the group.

“Alright. I’ll be there, in a moment.” Mel brushes the guilt from her pure white dress and leaves Sevika on the sofa. The other woman doesn’t seem bothered; she’s already lit another cigar and is leaning so far back that her head almost hangs upside down on the edge of the sofa. Before she can leave, without thinking properly, Mel turns around and says, “It was… fun.”

Sevika pulls a long drag from her cigar and expends a cumulus cloud of smoke. “You know where to find me, Mel.”

And with that, the so-called princess follows her best friend to retrieve the rest of her group, temporarily discarding the potential key to her life’s dilemma.

[coatsinkleaf]

[jollymalt]

some arcane pirate au sketches

[lettuccine]

in another, another universe

im gonna call this arcane no angst universe

[hadesisqueer]

Caitlyn: My sister in law killed my mom and I'm in my lesbian dictator era

Vi: My girlfriend broke up with me right after we kissed

Jinx: I got reversed adopted by a random kid

Ambessa: *manipulating Caitlyn*

Sevika: *gambling with her new arm*

Viktor: *is Yaoi Jesus*

Jayce, Ekko and Heimerdinger: What the fuck is going on

Mel's subplot:

[pignk]

I had a lot of fun with this work😖

[irisbart]

They are cool....

Mel drops Jayce and runs away with the hot lesbian from undercity

[bluestrawberry7]

I will not be taking criticism thanks

[g-vlssz]

Melvika - Mel Medarda and Sevika (Arcane)

You can't tell me they didn't f*cked at least 10 times

[roastedoatmilk]

Arcane Women Strap Hcs

characters: sevika, vi, caitlyn, mel, ambessa

A/N barely proofread sorry, also my first time writing for arcane please be kind 🙈 i hope y’all enjoy lmk your thoughts :)

Sevika

first things first she has a dark purple strap i’m talking almost the same color that shimmer is and boy does she know how to use it

whenever she pulls the strap out be prepared to not be able to walk the next day

she prefers to fuck you in missionary but if she had to choose a different position it would be fucking you from the bottom, she just loves to be able to see your face while she pleasures you

her strap game is DIABOLICAL, she always makes sure to hit that spot inside you that makes you let out a squeal and causes your toes to curl

honestly she could just cum from fucking you alone but if you feel up to it once she’s done with you she loves when you eat her out after

“that’s it baby, you’re taking me so well just a little more”

Vi

vi screams black strap to me like it just makes sense

she prefers to fuck you slow and DEEP, i’m talking girly lifts your hips off the bed and grips them so hard that you can feel bruises form

shes so cocky about it too like she knows she’s good

vi’s another one that could cum from pleasuring you alone and 9/10 times she does, however the one time she doesn’t she will literally sit on your face once you’re well enough to take care of her

“that feel good pretty girl ? yeah i know it does, you’re always so good for me”

Caitlyn

dark blue strap sorry yall i don’t make the rules

caitlyn loves when you’re on top and she’s fucking you from below

she revels in the sight of you falling apart above her while she’s gripping your hips guiding you

she’s 100% a brat tamer and you can’t tell me any different

“oh darling is it too much ? you shouldn’t have behaved like that if you didn’t want me to fuck you like this”

Mel

HEAR YE HEAR YE she has a gold strap idc idc

mel also likes it when you’re on top however she prefers to gently guide your movements while she praises you

don’t let that mislead you tho shes a HUGE tease

she can and will make you edge yourself until you’re literally crying begging her to let you cum

“ my love you look so beautiful when you ask nicely like that, go ahead and take what you need”

Ambessa

ruby red strap that’s all imma say

the cruelest of the bunch, she’s not afraid to leave you dry while she takes what she needs

another brat tamer yall you love to see it

she doesn’t make love she FUCKS, be prepared to constantly be buying new headboards

she makes you suck on her strap NEXTTTTT

“sweet girl did you think i’m finished with you ? no no we aren’t done until you can’t remember anything but my name”

[aurelion-solar]

ARCANE SEASON 2 - PROMO POSTERS BY STUDIO FORTICHE

[xremus-is-deadx]

I just want appreciate the posters all together. Look at these!!! Look how Jinx is in some way a part of every single one. I couldn't find the one of Vi with Jinx's think on her jacket but omg, she's gonna be such a problem for everyone I love that. Vi and Jinx are starting to mirror Vander and Silco so much, it's so, I don't know, cool?

I love it.

UPDATING THIS WITH VI'S POSTER AS WELL

UPDATING THIS AGAIN WITH AMBESSA'S POSTER THAT JUST DROPPED

AND ANOTHER UPDATE FOR VIKTOR'S POSTER THAT WAS JUST RELEASED

I need there to be one more, just to make it even-

AND AS IF BY FUCKING MAGIC, WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE, FOR JAYCE THIS TIME

OKAY I THINK THIS MAY BE THE FINAL UPDATE, BUT MEL NOW HAS ONE AS WELL

I really want to print all of these out but I need to make sure there won't be any more first

NEVERMIND SEVIKA GOT ONE TOO IM GOING INSANE SHE LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD HOLY SHIT GUYS

(There is also a Heimerdinger one in the reblogs, I can't have more than 10 pictures)

[honey-tongued-devil]

▶[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  

[fleurvi]

Big Chested S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with big titty gfs

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader, big chested!reader, titty play, titty sucking, marking (vi), titty slapping (grayson), strap on sex (grayson, sevika)

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa cannot keep her hands to herself. She had invited you to soak in the bath with her and cleared the attendants and guards from the room when you first entered, leaving the two of you alone. You're sitting between her legs with your head against her chest.

Within minutes, her hands reach around to your chest. She squeezes roughly; she treasures you, but you're a grown woman and can take some rough handling.

“Touch yourself for me”, she all but orders, and you listen, hand slipping beneath the warm water to play with your slit while she gropes your tits and rolls your nipples between her fingers. “Does that feel good?”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

DIABOLICAL ORAL FIXATION.

Cait finally comes to bed and finds you lying awake with a book. “You didn't have to wait for me,” she says, crawling over to your lap instead of her own side of the bed.

“I'll always wait for you, you know that”, you sigh in response. She pulls you into a kiss to show appreciation before trailing her lips down your neck and collarbone. When she gets to your chest, She lifts her head to look you in the eyes before leaning down again to take one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it. She presses a finger to your hole as she pulls away from your chest.

“Can I touch you while I suck on these gorgeous tits?” she asks, smile splitting into a grin as she lowers her head back down.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

She likes to watch them bounce as you ride her strap.

“Yeah, just like that”, she grunts as you bounce on the toy. She calls it training. She knows it's not right to engage with a subordinate in this way, but when you make such a pretty picture to look at, who is she to deny herself? She's not making eye contact with you though, focused on your chest in her face. When you slow down a little, thighs burning with the ache of riding, she brings a hand up to harshly slap them. “Why are you slowing down? I'm not finished with your training,” she says, hands gripping your hips to assist you in gaining back your pace. “If you keep up just like that, I'll give you a reward.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

Mel asks you to model topless for her so she can paint you. You have to get her back on course multiple times because she keeps getting distracted by your tits.

“I thought you were a woman of composure”, you tease as she gets caught staring again. She rolls her eyes in response.

“I've been finished for five minutes; I just wanted extra time to stare at them,” Mel says matter of factly. You get up from where you've been posing, engulfing her in a back hug as you examine her artwork. It's impressive. She paints you in such a sensual light. Your hands drop from her hips to her thighs. “While I was painting your chest, I was thinking about having them as my next canvas.”

“Yeah? If you show me how much you like them, I'll think about it,” you say as she turns in your arms, ready to walk you over to her bed and worship your chest with her mouth.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika likes to feel them rub against yours as she fucks you nice and deep. She thrusts her hips, grinding her cock inside you. You'd been begging for her to get the strap and fuck you, and now that she's inside, you're a drooling mess. She's completely covering you, pressing her muscular body on top of yours. The way your sensitive nipples rub against her chest as she rocks against you makes her eyes roll to the back of her head. Skin-on-skin contact is Sevika's weakness.

Sevika has a very short list of things that get her going, and your tits are top of that list.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

After a rough fight, Vi will find an empty room, back you up against the wall and let out all her pent-up energy on your tits. She loves to leave marks, decorating your chest with hickies and bite marks. She's enthusiastic, letting her actions tell you how she feels. She's desperate with how her tongue drags along your skin, and her teeth sink in. Her mouth is too occupied to speak, but you can hear the curses she grits out between biting and sucking on your precious skin. She's also a proud woman, and knowing you have her marks on you fuels her to do more. Your boobs are the perfect destresser for her.

“Fuck, look at you”, she growls, admiring her dirty work. “Always so fucking pretty.”

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Thank you so much for requesting, I'm so abnormal about the arcane ladies, I need to write more for them. I hope you enjoyed!!

[hadesisqueer]

Mel being alive, Jayce and Viktor having a dramatic breakup without even dating, Jinx adopting a random child, Caitlyn losing herself in her grief and anger, Jinx blasting Get Jinxed in the speakers she put on Sevika's arm while they kill some people, Sevika acting like a mama bear with Jinx like she didn't hate her guts last season, Ambessa fucking manipulating everyone, Viktor becoming Twink Jesus, Mel being kidnapped, Jinx losing her finger, Caitlyn and Vi kissing and then breaking up not even half an hour later, Vi taking L's over and over again, whatever the fuck was happening to Ekko, Jayce and Heimerdinger-- bruh