#mel fanfic

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hello! I adore your writing. Can I request a fic with female arcane characters when they have a touch starved gf? (Definitely asking for a friend ahah 😅)

RAHHH. ARCANE LADIES LETS GOOO. tbh, im not that in tune with Mel and Sevika as characters so they may be OOC. Thanks for requesting!

Arcane Ladies w/A Touch-Starved Reader | Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, and Sevika with a touch-starved lover and/or discovering said trait.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Lower Case Intended (Kinda?), Suggestive Themes (Mel/Sevika), Not Proofread, Short

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX ᝰ๋࣭𝜗᭡

- In a romantic setting (or really any setting), Jinx is touch-starved herself.

- when taking hostages or messing with those in her way, she will often touch them such as stroking her nail along their jawline or grabbing their chin when they're hurt and on their last limb.

- now she does this not because she's a bit insane and wants to add salt to their wounds but because she's curious. "What would this feel like?" "What would happen if I do this?"

- Much like most things in her life, curiosity is the main thing that gets her into trouble

- in terms of touching, you're not exempt from her touching curiosity.

- she'll drag her nails along your spine. cup your cheek and chin, and squeeze you like the baby you are to her.

- it's not until you linger after a hug that she notices your touch-starved like her

– since that moment, she made a mental note to cuddle you, kiss you, or poke at you more

– even if you tell her to stop annoying you or that she should focus on her work and not mess with you, she'll continue to poke and hold you.

– why? well because you're smiling through your complaints and she can't get over that smile you try to hide when you let yourself melt in her touch

–––

VI ﾒ

– much like her sister, Vi is touch-starved herself.

– y'all saw how she acted with Caitlyn and when she reunited with Jinx. She was all OVER them. With you, she's the exact same

– With her, you're more reluctant with touch. You want to hug her, cuddle with her, cling onto her like the clingy thing you are but you're scared to.

– you didn't grow up in an environment where that was normalized so it was out of your comfort zone to go out and cling to someone.

– in the beginning of your relationship, Vi was touchy until she noticed you weren't super comfortable with it.

– when she noticed, she had a discussion with you. – "Hey, are you comfortable with me hugging you 'n stuff? I noticed you get kinda tense when I first hug you." She'll ask you on a random night in the living room. You were hesitant at first, wanting to immediately ease her insecurities and tell her everything was fine.

– But if you lied, even if the lie was more a half-truth, your initial reaction to her touch would be the same. Tense at first then ease seconds into the touch.

– So, because you couldn't do anything but bite the bud, you told her

– Since telling, Vi said she'll help you work on getting more comfortable with touch.

– She'll even tease you when she notices you're more hesitant than normal.

– "Oh, come on," she'll tease you with her arms squeezing around your torso and your cheeks smushing to another. "You know you love it! Ease up, Mufifn."

–––

CAITLYN ᯓ

- With Caitlyn, you literally CANNOT get off of her. Can't blame you though.

- 6' foot something to cling onto? YUM.

- Caitlyn didn't mind your touchiness. She assumed you were that way so she didn't think anything of it.

- It wasn't until she met your family that she saw that your touchy side is something you keep hidden from your family, if not the world.

- You were so stiff around them, uncomfortable dare she say. You kept to yourself, restricted that pretty smile of yours, and you wouldn't let yourself ease into her touch.

- At home, she brought this up to you and you told her that being affectionate wasn't something your family did. To them, holding each other, hugging, expressing hellos and goodbyes with kisses was weird. Unfortunately for you, you're a naturally touchy person so you had to keep that part of you concealed.

- Caitlyn didn't like the thought of you hiding yourself from your blood kin. You didn't deserve that treatment so at home, after the event, Caitlyn went out of her way to be more touchy with you.

- she cradled your head when cuddling on the couch, gave you kisses on the cheek, and when she complimented you on something or congratulated you, she kissed the top of your head while giving you a polite squeeze.

– being super-duper-mushy-gushy-affectionate wasn't something she wasn't used to but she'll do anything for you. Plus, a couple extra kisses and squeezes haven't killed her yet.

–––

MEL౨ৎ

- You didn't care about touch all that much before your relationship with Mel. At the start of your relationship, you and Mel were younger so you had fewer responsibilities. All your free time, literally all of it, you guys spent with each other

- walking arm-in-arm while shopping, resting on each other on hot Summer days with your feet in a body of water, and mindlessly playing with each other's clothes or hair during late-night talks.

- but as she got busier, you saw her less, and seeing her less meant fewer touches.

- Mel wouldn't call herself touch-starved but starved for your touch.

– She'll miss your lingering touches on her fingers while you lay in bed, your lips on her back as you held each other, and your face in the crook of her neck.

– In a way, you both were touch-starved for each other. Maybe even a different word but this is a PG-13 space LMAO.

– at night, you would wrap your limbs around her tight and in the morning, you'd cling even tighter. What do you mean it's time for her to go already? She just got in bed!! (it's been 7 hours.)

– with Mel, your touch-starving-ness doesn't go unnoticed. In fact, whenever there's a time she notices you're more touchy than normal, she'll make it up to you

– And you never once complained about her way of making it up to you.

–––

SEVIKA ⚠︎

- oh lord, where do i start with this one, hm?

– One, Sevika loves the crap out of your touch-starved-ness. She won't admit this out loud but she thinks its the cutest thing in the world.

- She'll see you go in for a hug or maybe a wrap around her arm but then decide against it because of your own insecurities.

- Sometimes she'll take matters into her own hands and wrap her arm around you, pull you into her lap, or sneak a kiss on your cheek but other times she likes to make you suffer.

– "Mm, what was that?" she'll tease with a smirk on her lips. "Oh, did you want to hug me? Kiss me? Cling onto me or something?"

- Tbh, if you're with Sevika, you gotta be a little bit of a brat, right? right. So, you'll refuse the allegations she put on your name.

- That is until she pushes and pushes and boom. Like a perfectly boiled egg, your shell has been cracked and peeled, and the softness of your personality has been brought to light.

– with embarrassment plastered along your body and face, you'll do what you were too shy to before. (Cling, hug, kiss, etc).

- Sevika plays a big game but she loves it when you cling to her because just like you, she's a bit touch-starved too. The only touches she gets on a day-to-day basis are punches, kicks, etc.

- When you swallow your pride at home, you'll pull her down to your chest and hold her tight. She'll ask what's up but you'll just ignore her and she'll melt into your body like you intended.

WC: 1,229

[thesecondhandwoman]

Vi, Jinx, Sevika and Caitlyn (separate) with an s/o who self harms? I couldn't find any rules on your pinned page, so sorry if this violates anything!

SELF HARM CONFESSIONS

Arcane woman x f!reader

Synopsis: How arcane woman (Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa, Mel, Grayson) would react when they find out that you cope with your mental struggles through self-harm and respond with different types of comfort as a result.

Request: Anon 🤍

VI

Vi had always been observant. Her years in the Lanes taught her to read people, spot dangers, and sense when something wasn’t right. That’s why, as much as you tried to hide it, she noticed.

You were seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly picking at the hem of your sleeve unconsciously while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Her brows furrowed, her red hair glowing faintly under the warm kitchen light.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she started, her voice soft yet probing. “And don’t tell me you’re just tired, babe. Something’s up.”

You froze, keeping your eyes downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” she pushed, stepping closer. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her use of the pet name chipped away at your resolve, but you stayed silent. Then her hand was on yours, her calloused fingers tugging your sleeve up. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she was faster. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on the faint scars and fresh marks that littered your arm.

“Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked, breaking through your defenses. Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your arm away, hiding it in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I didn’t know how else to—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. She crouched in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Don’t apologize for this. Just why didn’t you tell me?”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Vi let out a shaky laugh, one filled with disbelief and heartbreak. “A burden? Babe, you’re my whole damn world. I’d carry whatever weight you’re holding if it meant you didn’t have to feel like this.”

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, her fingers running through your hair.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve got me, okay? You’re not alone, and I want you to know that.”

JINX

Jinx had been watching you closely for weeks. Her scatterbrained nature didn’t stop her from noticing the way you winced when she grabbed your arm or how you avoided her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

That night, she cornered you in her workshop. The dim lighting cast shadows across her face, her wide blue eyes boring into yours.

“Alright, spill it, toots,” she said, hands on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sidestep her. But Jinx wasn’t having it. She grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, and tugged you closer.

“Liar,” she teased, though there was no humor in her voice. “You’re hiding something.”

When she rolled up your sleeve and saw the faint scars, her playful demeanor evaporated. “What… what is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. Just forget it. I told you, it’s nothing.”

“No way,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s not nothing, sugarplum, and neither are you, because I know that you are probably thinking that right now to do this. You’re my favorite person.”

The sincerity in her voice made your tears spill over. “I’m sorry, Jinx. I didn’t mean—“

“Shh,” she cut you off, pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like that, okay? I’ll never judge you for something like this. We’ll figure it out together, step by step, even if they’re small.”

You nodded against her shoulder, her chaotic energy melting into a rare moment of calm as she held you, lightly rubbing your back.

CAITLYN

Caitlyn had always prided herself on her investigative skills. So when she started noticing the long sleeves you wore in the heat of summer and the distant look in your eyes, she knew something was wrong.

She confronted you one evening in the parlor, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched you fidget.

“Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, but her sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your hands gripped your sleeves. Without a word, she reached out, brushing her fingers over your wrist.

“Please,” she said softly. “Let me in, tell me what is wrong, dear.”

The tears came unbidden as you rolled up your sleeve, revealing the scars. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I was scared of how you might see me because of this.” you whispered.

Caitlyn shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. “You could never disappoint me. You’re the most important person in my life. Please, let me help you.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you like you might break. “We’ll get through this,” she promised, her voice steady. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like this for so long, my love.”

SEVIKA

Sevika wasn’t one to pry, but when she noticed the scars on your arms during a rare moment of intimacy, she couldn’t stay quiet.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and measured as she traced the faint lines with her prosthetic fingers.

You tried to pull away, but her flesh hand caught your wrist. “Don’t,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “Talk to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn’t hold it back anymore, knowing that you were already painted red, so you confessed, your voice shaky. “It’s just… sometimes it’s too much.”

Sevika didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes locked on yours. Then she pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Listen to me, doll,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t care how messy things get—I’m here for you. Always, mk?”

She lifted her hand and lightly cupped your cheek, her expression becoming even more sympathetic as your eyes swelled with unshed tears. “I’ve been through my own rough shit and I get how it is, all tiring, always frustrating, but I promise you aren’t alone.”

You cried into her chest as she stroked your back, murmuring soft reassurances. “You’re my girl,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not letting you go through this by yourself, doll. I promise.”

AMBESSA

The sound of the door opening made your heart drop into your stomach. You hadn’t expected Ambessa to return so soon. You froze, the small blade still clutched in your trembling hand, red droplets forming at the edges of the fresh cut on your arm.

“Dove?” Ambessa’s voice echoed through the room, low and firm, tinged with the warmth she reserved only for you. You scrambled to pull your sleeve down, your movements clumsy with panic, but it was too late.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you, taking in your pale face and the way you hastily tried to hide your arm. She stepped forward, her heavy boots thudding against the floor, and you instinctively backed up, bumping into the edge of the desk behind you.

When she saw how scared you were, skittish and small, she immediately looked confused and worried. “What were you doing?”

You stayed quiet, clenching the hem of your sleeve as you stared down. “Nothing, love, just waiting for you.”

“Let me see,” she said, her tone calm but commanding.

“No,” you stammered, clutching your arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes darted down to the faint stain of blood that had soaked through your sleeve. Her jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Dove,” she said again, softer this time, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me see.”

You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes as you slowly loosened your grip and allowed her to gently take your wrist. She pushed the fabric of your sleeve up with careful fingers, revealing the fresh cut alongside the faint scars of others that came before it. Her eyes moved over the marks, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your shallow breaths. Then Ambessa knelt before you, taking your hand in hers. Her usual unshakable confidence seemed to waver as she looked up at you, her golden eyes glistening.

“Why, dove?” she asked softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you whispered, barely able to meet her gaze.

Ambessa let out a low, shaky breath and reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand. Her palm was warm, grounding against your skin. “Weak?” she repeated, almost incredulous. “You’ve survived so much, little dove. There’s nothing weak about you. But this?” She gestured gently to your arm. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, nor do because it seems like the only reliever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you broke down, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Ambessa immediately pulled you into her arms, holding you close to her chest. Her embrace was firm but gentle, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, clutching at her shirt.

“No, dove,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Don’t apologize. Just let me help you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words wrapped around you like a safety net, her steady presence making the weight you’d been carrying just a little easier to bear. She rocked you gently, her strong hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“We’ll get through this together,” she whispered, her voice as steady as her resolve. “I’ll fight every battle with you, dove. You don’t have to bleed alone.”

You nodded weakly against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt as she continued to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because to her, you were.

MEL

Mel had a way of drawing the truth out of people, her natural elegance and empathy making it impossible to lie to her. When she first noticed the scars on your arm, a fleeting glimpse as you adjusted your sleeve, she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Instead, she observed, waiting for the right moment to approach you.

That moment came one quiet evening in her private study. You’d been sitting together in silence, the golden glow of the lamps illuminating her features as she worked on a painting.

“My love,” she began, her tone casual yet deliberate, “I’ve noticed something. Will you talk to me about it?”

You stiffened, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

She set her brush down, turning to face you fully. Her gaze was gentle, but it pierced through every wall you’d built. “I saw the scars, darling,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes but you held them back as you stammered, “I—I don’t know what you are talking about, love.”

Mel crossed the room and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “Y/N, my love, you do know that you don’t have to hide this from me, yes? I know it may be a sensitive topic, and I get if you are not ready to fully talk about it, but I hate to see you hurt yourself.”

You stared down at her as the tears stung to far and started trailing down your cheeks, causing you to choke on a sob. “I—I just didn’t want to see how weak I am, especially if it makes me do this.”

Mel paused, looking at you with a look of disbelief and love. “Weak? My love, you are not weak for surviving through the pain in your own way. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone, not anymore atleast.”

She brought your hands to her lips, kissing them tenderly. “I want to help you, however I can. You are everything to me.”

Her words broke through the dam, and you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “Always.”

GRAYSON

Grayson was the epitome of calm and collected, especially due to being an enforcer. Her steady presence made you feel safe, but it also made it hard to open up about the pain you carried. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore when someone she loved was struggling.

She first noticed when she brushed against your arm during a casual hug, her keen eyes catching the slight flinch you tried to hide. Grayson didn’t say anything then, but later that evening, right after shift as you sat together on the couch with a cup of tea, she addressed it.

“Darling,” she began, setting her tea aside. “I’ve noticed something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

You froze, your cup trembling in your hands. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out, placing a hand over yours. “I saw the marks, love. You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you glanced at her before looking down at your wrists. You could feel the pain rise just from looking at the area, but the reminder that it helped.

Slowly, you took a breath and whispered, “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re always so strong, and I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Grayson’s expression shifted, a flicker of heartbreak crossing her face. She set your cup aside and pulled you into her arms, her embrace gentle yet firm.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re never a bother to me. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Her calm voice washed over you like a balm. “Whatever’s hurting you, I want to be here. Whether it’s listening or talking with you about other options, I couldn’t care less, as long as you know that we are doing it together.”

You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady. “More than anything. And I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N: I honestly got a lot of requests for this, and I know that it might be a very sensitive topic for some people. However, for however it touches on a more personal level, I hope that you guys are okay and know that you are enough (and hoping this was able to comfort you a little).

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Paid the Price

|| Mel x Jayce x nonbinary!enforcer!reader

|| Warnings; concussed reader, explosion, hospital, worried Mel and Jayce, mention of Mel feeling guilt, brief season two spoilers, comfort/fluff

|| Summary; when the Council building explodes, reader makes it out... mostly alright.

Requests closed!

Started; December 22nd

Finished; December 22nd

HurtCember2024; Day 17, Concussion

~~~

The meeting was going smoothly. Jayce had gotten all of the Council to agree and you couldn't help feeling proud of your boyfriend. Mel had posted you just by the door, trusting you above all other enforcers. So, you had the privilege of watching your partners work. It was always your favourite shifts to be on, whenever you got to be their guard for something. Made the whole enforcer gig worth it.

Everything happened fast. You barely even had the chance to react before the Council room was exploded, you had just enough time to shout," Mel! Jayce!" They had time to turn their attention to you. Seeing the panic in your eyes.

Then there was nothing. When you came to you were in what looked like some private hospital room, with Mel pacing the floor and Jayce trying to calm her down.

"They'll be alright," Jayce assured, you could faintly hear what he was saying. It still felt like there was a ringing in your ears, but you could tell. Even before opening your eyes. That he was just as worried as Mel," they're tough. Right? And stubborn. They wouldn't let a building be the reason they can't get up."

"I know, I just.." Mel groaned. The sound of her heels coming to halt, you could only guess she was looking at you," you're awake. Aren't you? I see you hiding that smirk."

You slowly opened your eyes, grinning just a bit. Mel really knew you like the back of her hand, didn't she? She could always call you out, Jayce however looked surprised as ever. But they both looked relieved. You were awake and that's all that mattered to them.

"You're awake!" Jayce smiled, the first he had since everything happened. By now, that was quite some hours ago. He rushed to your bedside, hands cupping you face. You winced at the fast movement and he immediately let go," sorry- sorry- are you.. feeling okay?"

"Give them space to breathe, Jayce," Mel was smiling too when she joined his side. Hand carefully placed to your knee.

"Like you said, a building won't take me down. I'm fine. Mostly," you looked at Jayce with knowing eyes and his cheeks flushed. Mel held back a laugh.

"You heard all that?" Jayce asked.

"The important stuff," you poked his stomach.

"Are you sure you feel fine? The doctor informed us you had a concussion," Mel explained. Your face fell, a concussion? You'd be out of work for at least a week with that. Probably more if it were up to Mel.

Mel couldn't help looking at you with guilt hidden behind her worry. She had tried to protect the both of you, you were just.. too far away from her to fully protect you. Jayce she had been able to reach no problem, but she was still getting the hang of her abilities and you'd paid the price.

"I will be... little bummed I'm going to be off work," you huffed. Jayce couldn't help but laugh.

"It's always work with you, isn't it?" He asked.

"Hey, you two are just as bad!" You folded your arms over your chest, they shared a look with each other. Silently agreeing with you on that.

"Yeah okay, you got us there," Jayce replied.

The rest of the evening was relaxed, filled with easy conversations. Jayce and Mel tried to both be by your side the whole night, but they were needed for one thing or another. However one was always by your side, they didn't want you to be alone and you greatly appreciated them for it. You loved them just as deeply as they loved you.

[tiyawnyana]

So this is a special request sent in by @reader210 , thank you for the request! I loved your idea and want to turn it into a multi-chapter story so this is chapter one!

A/N: I actually had so much fun creating this story because the characterization was a blast

Characters: Mel Medarda x Fem!Doctor!Reader

Warnings: nothing explicit, brief swearing, general confusion

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

An Apple a Day

Chapter 1

Synopsis:

Everything was normal- everything was starting to become better, pieces falling into place. You got your new position within the hospital secured, you were thinking about getting a dog, maybe even a cat. Life was beginning to make sense.

Until you end up in an entirely new world, apparently.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Footsteps echo through the halls, a soft sound in these vacant cells as you munch on the fruit given to you a Iittle while ago.

You huff, annoyed and tired with this insane situation.

You didn't expect this- to be somehow spawned into another world. One minute, you're in your office finishing some paperwork for a patient, the next, you're collapsing in the middle of a huge room, seemingly a meeting of elites to some sort.

You remember the shrieks of surprise, the throbbing in your skull as you weakly pushed yourself up with your palms. Your glasses had flung off in the events, nowhere to be found so now you're stuck with fuzzy vision and locked away while whoever figures out who and what you were.

You lean against the cold wall, huffing softly as you rub your fingers into your temple, feeling another headache brewing.

Footsteps get closer, entering the cell hallway and you sigh, rolling your eyes as they get nearer.

You see the fuzzy outline of someone, squinting to try and make them out but no such luck.

You groan as they stop at your cell and you decide to get up, pacing closer to the bars.

“Well? Figure me out yet?” You sass sarcastically.

“I don't think you're in a position to be sarcastic,” the woman murmurs, and you're almost convinced you hear a smirk in her tone.

“I don't think I'm in a position to do anything, I'm afraid, but here we are,” you smirk, leaning against the bars.

She's silent for a moment, gaze seemingly boring into you and you feel heat creeping up your neck in embarrassment. You avert your gaze, huffing softly.

“The Counsel hasn't figured out the cause of your appearance.. Where are you from? Noxus?”

You raise a brow in confusion and question, turning your gaze back to her,”Where the hell is Noxus? I'm from Chicago-”

“Chicago?” She echoes, bewildered,”I don't recognize your accent-”

“Typical brit, huh?” You try to joke but it falls flat. You swallow, looking away again.

“What is your position? Status?”

“Uh- what?”

“Your title,” she speaks firmly.

You look back at her despite her still blurry form,”Uh.. Doctor?”

“You're a Doctor?” She echoes, seemingly surprised,”In that uniform?”

“What's wrong with my uniform?” You look down at the white doctors coat with your soft navy cardigan underneath.

“I've never seen that kind of uniform on a doctor- seems unfitting-”

“Okay-”

“That- is not the main focus of my visit,” she sighs, before lifting her hand and handing you something.

“What's that-”

“Your glasses.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you grab them from her hand and quickly put them on, wincing at the slight blur before your vision comes back into focus and redirecting your gaze back to the woman before you.

Jesus- this woman is gorgeous. Unlike anyone you've ever seen- what?

“Uh- wow,” you murmur, eyes wide as you take her in.

“What?” She tilts her head in confusion.

You figure you must be dreaming. Some drug induced coma, for sure.

“You're stunning,” you say smoothly, uncaring for any embarrassment you'd surely feel if this was real life.

Her gaze widens in surprise, before she quickly masks over it.

“The counsel wishes to conduct an interview, an investigation of sorts to understand your appearance,” she speaks smoothly, bringing keys forward before hesitating,”I trust you'll behave?”

You snort, giving her a nod,”Yes, I'll behave. I'm just as curious as you all are.”

She eyes you for a moment before unlocking the cell, sliding the bars open and beckoning you forward.

You step out, stretching your arms above your head before inhaling sharply in surprise when a guard approaches quickly, cuffs on display.

“Those won't be necessary,” the woman speaks firmly, brushing her hand to signal the guard.

You eye her carefully,”Thank you.”

She nods in silence.

“What's your name?”

She rolls her eyes, ushering you to walk out and you huff a soft laugh.

She walks beside you, leading you through halls with the guard following behind. You can't take your eyes off of your surroundings, enthralled with the architecture and some paintings on the walls.

“This is one insane dream,” you murmur to yourself.

“A dream?” The woman echoes, shaking her head,”How interesting.”

You remember these doors, suddenly nervous at the sight of the giant, overly designed wood as you recall being dragged out of the room behind them.

They open, revealing that those same people from before are seated in their same chairs.

You're pushed forward by the guard and you out of reflex turn to smack at his hand but the woman waves the guard off as she beckons you to follow.

“In the center, if you will,” she murmurs, walking away for circle the table back to her own seat.

You listen as requested, hands clasped together at your front as you stand in the center, feeling as if you were under a microscope.

“Uh.. hi,” you wave awkwardly with a sheepish smile.

The doors open again, a higher pitched voice gaining everyone's attention and you turn to look, only for you to find nothing. They're still talking, though, and you follow the sound to the head of the table when a small person? Seats themselves down.

“It's about time we figured out this anomaly!” He grins through quirked ears and a bushy mustache.

Your head tilts, confusion etched into your face.

“Counselor Medarda, have you found out any new information about our guest?”

The woman, you learn now is something Medarda, turns to nod in his direction.

“Our guest is from what you called Chicago? I am unfamiliar with it-” she turns to look at you.

“Yes- Uh, Chicago, Illinois, to be exact.”

“Illinois-?” A man echoes, and you turn before stifling a smirk.

The blonde man was the definition of a twink back home.

You shake your head, refocusing as you face the head counselor,”Yes, in America?”

His ears perk, eyes narrowed as he peers back at you,”We don't know what you're talking about, this America- there's no lands here by that name.”

“What now?”

Counselor Medarda sighs in defeat,”I truly don't believe we'll find anything of ill intent here,” she speaks smoothly,”Counselor Heimerdinger?”

Your head turns to the head counselor- Heimerdinger, as he furrows his thick brows.

“You don't look of Noxus style,” he huffs,”Nor any other land I've ventured through. I'm curious, what was your occupation?”

“Oh- I'm a Doctor, sir,” you respond sheepishly.

“A Doctor! Impressive,” he smiles genuinely and you're surprised to find delight in that,”I think we could find use of you while keeping an eye on your movements.”

“Use of me-?” You echo in confusion.

“Oh, yes! I believe we could very well use your talents,” he looks to the other counselors.

Some honestly look as if they care less, that one twink in particular, but as your gaze flicks back toward him, you catch onto Ms. Medarda.

She's looking at you with a certain look, a glint to her eye, like she found something worth investing in.

Heat creeps up your cheeks and you don't hear anything else, too occupied with the golden freckles dusting her cheeks and her near hypnotizing eyes.

“Then it's settled!”

You whip your head back to Heimerdinger, expecting the worst but he's got a genuine, friendly smile on his face.

“You'll be under surveillance, of course, but we want to understand your form of healing- perhaps it is different in this.. Chicago?”

You nod in understanding, smiling shakily,”Of- of course, uh-”

“Counselor Medarda and Shoola will lead you around, you will have a stationed enforcer keeping an eye on you until we can determine that you are not a threat.”

You nod again, hands tightening at your front out of nerves.

“I expect weekly reports, have them set up the east wing for board and the first floor for an office for her,” he grins back at you,”I do hope to see good things from you.”

He calls the meeting to an end, hopping down from his chair and exiting the room with a few of the counselors following behind you.

Counselor Medardo waves off Shoola, approaching you from behind before stopping.

“Doctor?”

You snap back into focus, turning to look at her.

“Ready to go?” She beckons toward the door.

You take a moment to reply, nodding in confusion.

“What the hell was that?” You manage to say, following her out of the room.

“That was your interview, investigation, call it what you wish,” she waves it off.

You look at her in bewilderment,”Was that counselor made of metal?”

“Counselor Bolbok?” She side eyes you in confusion.

“Sure, whatever-”

“Hold on.. you've been looking confused,” she turns to you, stopping in the hallway.

“No shit, Sherlock, I’m confused-”

“Sherlock?” She questions, face scrunched in confusion.

Your eyes go wide, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, stressed,“Ok- what is happening.”

She just raises a brow, that confused look still on her face.

“What was that!” You huff,”Counselor Heim..”

“Counselor Heimerdinger,” she finishes.

“Yes- what?” You laugh in surprise,”What.. is he? In the least disrespectful way possible.”

She's quiet for a moment before sighing in defeat,”You really aren't from here.. are you?”

“That's what I've been telling you-” a headache begins to form,”Did I somehow end up in an entirely new universe? Huh?”

She covers her mouth, hiding the small laugh at your expense.

“Heimerdinger is a Yordle,” she murmurs with a grin,”Bolbok is a gaseous being- he controls his metal exterior.”

You look at her as if she'd grown a second head,“What the hell is a yordle?”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: I just needed an excuse to describe Salo as a twink sorry not sorry

[kirammanswifey]

《The Heart That Couldn't Stay》

Mel Medarda

writer's note: i can only say that i love sad endings. so anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested ;)

link:

warnings: smut, fingering, angst, kinda fluff, sad ending, mel's such a love bird, reader can be a little mean but she has her reasons.

The Greek sky burned with the colors of sunset, a palette that seemed plucked straight from an Impressionist painting. The spiritual retreat Mel had chosen was nestled between mountains and the Aegean Sea, a sanctuary designed to unburden the mind. Yet, in hers, only chaos reigned. Her work as an international consultant had been relentlessly demanding, draining her creative energy for strategy and art alike. Inspiration, the elusive muse she sought, had vanished entirely.

That evening, a local collector had organized a dinner at his villa—an event brimming with artists and influential figures in the art world. Mel attended more out of obligation than genuine interest. She wandered through the private collection, examining sculptures with a detached gaze, her wine glass resting lightly in her hand. Everything around her felt hollow, devoid of meaning, until she heard a voice behind her—clear, melodic, and disarmingly self-assured.

"Did you know this sculptor worked blindfolded? He believed his hands understood form better than his eyes."

Startled, Mel turned. There you were. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She had always considered herself striking, a vision of exotic elegance, but your beauty defied comparison. It was surreal, almost otherworldly. Perhaps it was the way your eyes shimmered as if they'd stolen the light of distant stars or how your smile radiated an effortless confidence that drew others in. Whatever it was, you were magnetic, a living paradox that demanded attention.

You wore a sheer white dress that contrasted beautifully with your skin, revealing more than it concealed, yet you seemed unbothered—on the contrary, you reveled in the freedom it afforded.

"That sounds... contradictory," Mel responded, intrigued, though she fought to keep her gaze from lingering on the tantalizing curve of your barely covered form.

"Isn’t all art a contradiction?" you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

For the first time in days, Mel felt her mind stir from its slumber. "You seem well-versed in contradictions."

"Perhaps because I am one," you said with a playful tilt of your head, extending your hand toward her. "Call me Zephyr."

Mel took your hand, noting the silky softness of your skin. "Zephyr? I assume that’s not your real name." Her elegant brow arched inquisitively as she studied you. It was as though you held all the secrets of the cosmos, and she longed to unravel them.

You let out a soft laugh, a sound as entrancing as a siren’s song. "It isn’t, but I prefer it. It suits me better."

Mel’s curiosity sharpened. She needed to know more, to hear every syllable that fell from your captivating lips. "Why Zephyr?"

"Because it’s beautiful," you said simply. "Like a gentle breeze—it doesn’t disrupt or intrude, only graces you with its presence. And as quickly as it comes, it’s gone." You gestured with your hand, mimicking the delicate path of the wind, even blowing softly as if to give life to your words.

Mel smiled, entertained by your theatrics. She studied you intently, capturing every nuance of your expression. She could tell she wasn’t the first to be enchanted by your enigmatic charm. And yet, she found herself wanting to be the one exception—the one to see beyond your veil of mystery.

"Zephyr, then," Mel murmured, setting her wine glass on a nearby table. "Do you always make it a habit to bewilder strangers in galleries?" There was a playful edge to her tone, a subtle challenge laced with flirtation.

"Only those who seem to need it," you replied, circling her with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers.

"And what makes you think I’m in need?" Mel hated to admit it, but she was spellbound. Each word you spoke felt more fascinating than the last. For someone as difficult to impress as Mel Medarda, this was no small feat.

You met her gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce her flawless exterior. "Because you’re here, surrounded by art, but not feeling it. It’s as if you’re searching for something… yet you don’t know what it is." Your knack for reading people was uncanny, a skill you wielded like an artist’s brush to paint reactions as vivid as your observations.

Mel was momentarily speechless. Rarely did anyone manage to see through her polished façade. "Perhaps you’re right. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here."

"I’m a model," you said casually. "I work with painters, sculptors… I enjoy being part of their creations. And I like meeting intriguing people." Your voice carried an honesty that made it impossible to doubt you. Art wasn’t just a part of your life—it was the lens through which you viewed the world.

"Does that mean you find me intriguing?" Mel’s amusement was evident, but so was the faint undercurrent of seduction in her voice.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting against her ear, deliberate and tantalizing. "I’m giving you the chance to prove it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you explored the villa together. Mel couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with someone like this. The way you spoke about art and life was intoxicating—each idea fresh, bold, and delivered with a passion that reignited something dormant within her.

When the dinner concluded, you invited her for a walk through the gardens. Under the starlit sky, Mel realized the Greek breeze bore a whisper of your essence: gentle yet unforgettable.

"What do you do when you’re not modeling for artists?" Mel asked as they strolled past ancient olive trees.

"I live," you said simply, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "I don’t make plans or tie myself down. I savor whatever comes my way. And you?"

"I live to work," Mel confessed with a hint of irony.

You stopped and turned to face her, your gaze filled with quiet compassion. "How tragic. I hope that changes one day."

Something shifted inside Mel at that moment, a spark she hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just attraction—it was curiosity, inspiration. She wanted to know more about you, the enigma who seemed to defy all her carefully constructed rules.

When you finally said goodbye, you offered her one last, enigmatic smile before vanishing into the night.

Mel remained rooted to the spot, the breeze playing with her hair. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, her mind was alive with possibilities, her thoughts consumed by the living mystery that you were.

The days following your encounter at the villa became a blend of shared moments between Mel and you. It was as if the gentle breeze you had spoken of that night had decided to linger, wrapping both of you in an air of discovery and unspoken wishes. The connection between you was subtle, like an invisible thread that neither of you could ignore, yet neither dared to name.

You found yourself taking her to places even the locals didn’t know existed. First, a hidden beach nestled between cliffs, where the water was so clear that you could see every pebble resting on the seabed. As you walked along the shore, the ocean breeze played with your hair, and Mel watched you as though you were part of the landscape, as if you belonged to that place as much as the sand and waves.

"How did you find this spot?" Mel finally asked, breaking the silence that had reigned for several minutes.

"It’s easier to find what others overlook when you’re not searching for anything," you replied with a smile that she was beginning to recognize as your signature—an enigmatic gesture that spoke volumes while revealing nothing at all.

Mel laughed softly. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"I do," you said, winking before stepping closer to the water, letting the waves kiss your feet.

Another day, you took her to an art studio tucked away in a narrow city alley. The walls were covered in paintings, some completed, others barely begun. Sculptures and scattered tools filled the space, and the air smelled of paint and freshly carved wood.

"Is this place yours?" Mel asked, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"It belongs to a friend," you explained. "He lets me come here when I need to remember that chaos can also be beautiful."

Mel watched as you moved through the canvases, brushing your fingertips lightly over a few of them, as though you were reading them rather than touching them. You stopped in front of an unfinished painting and gestured toward it with your chin.

"What do you see?" you asked.

Mel squinted, trying to decipher the shapes and colors. "It’s hard to say... It looks like a landscape, but there’s something more abstract about it. As if the artist is searching for something they haven’t found yet."

"Exactly," you said, turning to face her. "Sometimes art is just that—a search with no end."

It was then, as she observed you surrounded by art and mystery, that Mel said it.

"I want you to be my muse."

You turned to her, not so much surprised as flattered. "Your muse?"

Mel nodded, crossing her arms as she tried to maintain a serious expression. "I have a painting I can’t finish. I’ve tried everything, but... I feel like something’s missing. And I think that something is you."

Your enigmatic smile appeared once more, though your eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Are you sure? Being your muse comes with risks."

"What risks?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow—a gesture you had noticed she often made when nervous.

You stepped closer to her, the space between you diminishing, and whispered, "That you might fall in love with me. Promise me you won’t fall in love with me." Your expression was tinged with sadness; you didn’t want Mel to make the same mistake others had. You liked her too much for that.

Mel’s laughter filled the studio, but you noticed the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think I can handle it," she finally said, though you weren’t entirely convinced.

The first painting session took place the following day in Mel’s studio, where she had set up a large canvas in the center of the room. The golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that made your skin shimmer as though you were made of light.

You sat gracefully on a stool, crossing your legs, while Mel prepared her brushes and paints. You watched her in silence, captivated by the intensity of her focus.

"Ready?" she asked, glancing up at you.

"I was born ready," you replied with a smile that seemed to challenge her.

As Mel began to paint, the tension in the room became palpable. Her eyes flicked between the canvas and you, as though each brushstroke was a confession. For your part, you remained still, though inside you could feel the energy building between you, like an electric current threatening to spark.

"I can’t figure you out," Mel murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Why would you want to?" you asked reflexively, though you already knew the answer. You were used to this—people becoming obsessed with the idea of unraveling you, of discovering why you were the way you were, instead of simply accepting you as you were. But no, humans were selfish; they always wanted more.

"Because I feel like there are so many layers to you... and I want to see them all," Mel said, speaking as though she were discovering a new world, an uncharted planet yet to be named by scientists.

You allowed yourself a soft laugh, though there was a hint of melancholy in it. "Perhaps some things are more beautiful when they remain hidden."

Hours later, just as Mel was about to add the finishing touches, the rain began. The storm arrived abruptly, with heavy drops pelting the windows and wind howling to break in.

"We should stop," Mel said, but you were already on your feet.

You stepped outside without a word, letting the rain soak your dress and hair. Instead of seeking shelter, you began to dance, spinning with your arms outstretched, as though celebrating the storm’s arrival.

Mel watched you from the doorway, utterly captivated. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so pure. Finally, she couldn’t resist and stepped out after you, ignoring the rain drenching her clothes.

When she reached you, you stopped and looked her directly in the eyes. The starry sky seemed to reflect in your gaze, and Mel felt everything else fade away.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed her. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with every unsaid word and every promise yet to be made. Promises that would never be kept.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but neither the rain nor the cold seemed to matter.

"Come with me," Mel said, taking your hand.

You followed her inside, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your soaked shoes. Rainwater drips from your hair, tracing rivulets down the curve of your neck and between the valley of your breasts, visible through the drenched fabric of your black dress. The cool air pebbles your nipples, making them strain against the damp material.

Mel closes the door behind you, the click echoing in the tranquil space. Shadows dance across the whitewashed walls, cast by the flickering candlelight illuminating an array of paintings - vibrant splashes of color amidst the neutral tones. The scent of rain mingles with the earthy aroma of oil paints and turpentine.

"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment," Mel murmurs, her voice low and sultry. She reaches out, trailing a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up gently. Her touch is cool from the rain, sending shivers down your spine. You laughed softly, enjoying the moment. Her desperation for you was entertaining.

You lean into her hand, your own coming up to cover hers. Your fingers intertwine, thumbs brushing against each other in a intimate caress. Mel's skin is soft, yet calloused from hours spent holding a paintbrush. You bring her hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to her palm, feeling her pulse flutter beneath your touch.

"I've been waiting for this too, Mel,"

Mel's breath hitches, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. She takes another step closer, until your bodies are a mere whisper apart. You can feel the heat radiating off her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain. Her eyes never leave yours as she reaches for the hem of your dress, slowly, teasingly, peeling the drenched fabric up and over your head.

Cool air kisses your newly exposed skin, making your nipples tighten further. Mel's gaze drops to your chest, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She leans in, her breath ghosting over the swell of your breasts. Your heart pounds, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You help her shrug out of her own shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Beneath, she wears a lacy bra and a pair of matching panties, both a shade darker than the candlelit room. The damp fabric clings to her curves, hinting at the supple flesh beneath. You reach out, tracing the lace along her collarbone, feeling the heat of her skin through the delicate material.

Mel shivers at your touch, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the flimsy lace. She takes your hand, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breasts, down her taut stomach. Stopping just above the waistband of her panties, she looks up at you through hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with unspoken desires.

Leaning in, you capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up longing into the embrace. Mel responds hungrily, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, pulling you closer. Your bodies mold together, the coolness of your rain-soaked skin contrasting with the heat building between you. It was so stimulating.

You walk backwards until your legs hit the edge of the paint-splattered drop cloth draped across the center of the room. Mel's hands roam over your naked back, nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. She pushes you gently, urging you to sit on the edge of the canvas.

Falling back onto the soft fabric, you watch as Mel unhooks her bra, letting it slip down her arms and onto the floor. Her breasts are full and perfect, topped with chocolate nipples that beg to be tasted. She leans over you, hair falling like a curtain around you both as she takes your hands, placing them on her breasts.

You knead the soft flesh, feeling the weight of her in your palms. Mel arches into your touch, a breathy moan escaping her lips. You roll her nipples between your fingers, feeling them stiffen and peak. Mel's hips undulate against yours, the heat of her core evident even through the layers separating you.

Sitting up, you hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down her long, toned legs. She lifts her hips, helping you remove the last barrier between you. Now, she's bare before you, all smooth skin and tempting curves, illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

She takes your hand, guiding it to the small of her back as she presses herself against you, your hands roaming the curves of her damp dark skin.

"Touch me," Mel breathes, her voice husky with desire. "Feel how much I crave you. My body and my soul needs you."

Your fingers trace her chest, feeling her heart racing beneath your touch. She shivers as your hand cups the soft swell of her breast, your thumb brushing against the hardened peak. A soft moan escapes her lips, her head falling back as she arches into your caress.

You lean in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. You can taste the rain on her skin, the salt of her desire. "I want you to touch every inch of my body," you murmur, your voice low and filled with want. "To explore the canvas of my body with your hands, your mouth, until you have mapped every curve and hollow."

Mel's hand slides down your back, her nails raking lightly against your skin. She cups your rear, pulling your hips flush against hers. You can feel the heat of her core, even through the layers of your clothing. "Oh, I'll. There's nothing that i crave more than that," she breathes, her lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "I'll taste all of you."

You capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire and longing into the embrace. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue plundering your mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands roam her body, squeezing the firm globes of her ass, the soft give of her thighs, the delicate bones of her ribs.

Mel’s hands are just as busy, sliding under your dress. Pulling it down and pushing it off your hips. You kick it off and are left in nothing but a pair of soaked panties. The cool air kisses your hot skin, making you shiver. But then Mel’s hands are on you again, sliding under the damp fabric to cup your most intimate place. Her fingers find your center, caressing the slick folds, eliciting all sorts of reactions from you.

You gasp as Mel’s fingers find your slick heat, your hips bucking at her touch. She caresses your folds, teasing your entrance, feeling your arousal coat her fingers. “You’re so wet,” she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder and desire. “So ready for me.”

You can only moan in response, your head falling back as she circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Your hands grip her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin as the pleasure builds.

Mel leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "I want to taste your pleasure," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I want to feel you come undone in my mouth, on my tongue."

Before you can respond, she's lowering herself to her knees, her face level with your aching core. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. You lift your hips, helping her remove the last barrier between you.

Now you're bare before her, exposed and wanting. Mel looks up at you, her eyes dark with lust as she takes in the sight of your glistening folds. "Beautiful," she breathes. "Absolutely gorgeous. You are a goddess on earth. I'm sure Aphrodite envies every inch of your perfection. The perfect muse. The best work of art."

You smiled at her, pleased. That was why you liked to get involved with artists, their compliments were on another level.

You watch, heart pounding, as she leans in and inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Then, slowly, teasingly, she leans in and drags the flat of her tongue along your slit, from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, your hands fisting in her hair as bolts of electricity shoot through your body.

Mel hums against your flesh, the vibrations adding to the intense sensation. She licks you again, slower this time, savoring your taste. Her tongue delves between your folds, stroking your walls, feeling your silken heat. She laps at your essence, drinking it down like a woman thirsting.

Your hips undulate against her face, seeking more of her touch. She gives you what you crave, sealing her lips around your clit and suckling gently. The dual sensations of her lips and tongue working in tandem has you seeing stars, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

As she suckles, her fingers find your entrance, plunging inside. She pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that secret spot deep within you. The pleasure builds.

Mel's fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping core as she suckles your clit with increasing fervor. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the studio, mingling with your wanton moans and cries. She can feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your climax approaches.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, Mel looks up at you, her lips glistening with your essence. "Come for me," she commands, her voice rough with lust. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue."

She seals her lips around your clit once more and suckles hard, two fingers pumping relentlessly into your weeping core. That's all it takes to send you flying over the edge. Your body goes rigid, back arching as a scream of ecstasy tears from your throat.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching and spasming around Mel's fingers. She works you through your climax, her tongue and fingers never stilling until the last aftershock subsides. As you come down, she gentles her touch, bringing you back to earth.

Finally, she withdraws her fingers, bringing them to her lips to lick them clean. "Delicious," she purrs, her gaze never leaving yours. "I could feast on you for hours."

Once you've regained some composure, you reach out and take Mel's hands, gently tugging her up until she's sitting beside you on the sofa. She comes willingly, a playful smirk on her face. You pull her into a deep, sensual kiss, tasting yourself on her lips and tongue.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own filled with a new kind of hunger. "Now it's my turn to worship you," you murmur, your voice low and filled with desire. I'm going to make you discover new sensations. "I'll take you to heaven and bring you down to hell. At the same time. You won't know what's happening, you won't remember anything. You'll only remember me and the pleasure I'll give you."

You guide Mel to lie back against the sofa cushions, her dark hair fanning out around her head like a halo. She complies, her eyes never leaving yours as you settle between her spread thighs. You can see the anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

Starting at her ankles, you begin your exploration, trailing your fingers slowly up her calves. Her skin is soft and smooth. You caress her knees, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath the skin.

Higher you go, skimming your hands along her thighs. Her skin is warm and slightly damp from the rain, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air. You can see the way her muscles tense and flutter beneath your touch, reacting to your every caress.

At the apex of her thighs, you pause, your gaze locked with hers. She's watching you intently, her lips parted slightly, her chest heaving. You can feel the heat radiating off her core, see the damp patch darkening the fabric of her panties.

Unable to resist, you lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her clothed sex. She gasps, her hips jerking up slightly at the contact. The kiss deepens, your lips moving against her, feeling the shape of her beneath the thin material.

You slowly peel Mel's panties down her legs, revealing her glistening folds to your hungry gaze. She lifts her hips to help you remove the last barrier between you and her aching desire. As you toss the soaked fabric aside, you settle between her thighs, your face mere inches from her dripping sex.

Mel's scent fills your nostrils, the heady aroma of her arousal making your head spin with want. You breathe in deeply, relishing her intoxicating essence. She watches you, her eyes hooded and darkened with lust, as you lean in and extend your tongue.

Slowly, teasingly, you drag your tongue along her slit, feeling her slick arousal coat your taste buds. Mel shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips as your mouth makes contact with her most sensitive flesh. You can feel her walls fluttering, reacting to your touch.

Encouraged by her response, you delve deeper, your tongue plunging into her hot, tight channel. You stroke her walls, feeling the silken texture, tasting her ambrosia. Mel's fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as you feast on her sex.

You lave attention on every inch of her glistening folds, your tongue swirling around her throbbing clit before suckling gently on the sensitive bud. Mel writhes beneath you, her thighs clenching around your head as she grinds her hips against your face.

"Don't stop," she pleads, her voice ragged and breathless. "Please don't stop. I need... I need..."

Her words dissolve into a low moan as you double your efforts, your fingers joining your tongue in pleasuring her. You plunge two digits into her dripping core, pumping them in and out, stroking her walls in time with the strokes of your tongue against her clit.

Mel's grip on your hair tightens, her back arching off the sofa cushions as her climax builds rapidly. You can feel her walls starting to clench, her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

With a final, hard suckle to her clit and a curl of your fingers deep inside her, you send Mel flying over the edge. She cries out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave.

As Mel's climax subsides, her body goes limp against the sofa, chest heaving as she catches her breath. You place a final, gentle kiss on her sensitive flesh before slowly crawling up her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin like the perfect lover you were.

Reaching her lips, you capture them in a searing, passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into the embrace. Mel kisses you back fiercely, tasting herself on your mouth, moaning softly as her fingers caress your face.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own shining with adoration and a deep sense of satisfaction. "That was incredible," you whisper, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You're incredible."

Mel smiles, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss. "I could say the same to you," she murmurs, pulling you down for another tender kiss. "Never in my life have I felt so... complete. So utterly satisfied."

You settle beside her on the sofa, your bodies pressed close, legs entwined. The candlelight flickers over your naked forms, casting a warm, intimate glow. You trace patterns on her skin, marveling at the softness, the smoothness, the way she shivers at your touch.

Mel nestles closer, resting her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. Your fingers comb through her dark hair, gently disentangling the damp locks. She sighs contentedly, her hand resting on your stomach, her thumb tracing idle circles on your skin.

In the comfortable silence, you both bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the intimacy of the moment. The studio, once filled with the sounds of your passion, now holds a serene, tranquil atmosphere.

Outside, the rain continues to patter against the window panes, the wind whispering through the trees.

Mel quickly fell asleep on your shoulder, you smiled at the tenderness. You adjusted her to a better position and remained silent with your thoughts. You stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you had made another mistake.

The morning after that night under the rain, Mel woke up with a calmness she couldn’t recall feeling before. She turned toward your side of the sofá, and there you were, eyes closed, your head slightly tilted to one side, as if sleep had found you in the middle of a deep thought. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that scene repeating every day: you, her, the intimacy of dawn.

But when you opened your eyes, the warmth Mel had hoped for wasn’t there. A polite smile, nothing more. Your movements were gentle yet distant, as if you were preparing for a farewell you hadn’t yet spoken.

“Will you stay for breakfast?” she asked, trying to conceal the vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“I can’t. There are things I need to do,” you replied as you got out of the furniture, dressing at a pace neither hurried nor inviting, leaving no room for Mel to insist.

And so began the days that followed. Mel, eager to draw closer to you, and you, keeping your distance, though you occasionally let glimpses of a deeper connection shine through. Each time she thought she’d breached your walls, you rebuilt them with a coldness that left her unsettled.

Your relationship became a whirlwind of intense, conflicting emotions. On one hand, there were moments when Mel felt you were entirely hers: your touches, your kisses, the overwhelming passion you shared when together. But then came the silences, the averted gazes, the evasive answers that left Mel feeling hollow.

One night, after one of those breathtakingly passionate encounters, Mel finally dared to ask what had been weighing on her for weeks.

“Why do you do this?”

You turned to look at her, your eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and caution. “Do what?”

“Be so close to me… and then so far away,” Mel said, her voice trembling slightly. “I feel like every time I think I know you, you pull away. As if you want to keep me at arm’s length.”

You sighed, averting your gaze toward the window, as though you wished to escape both her and the conversation. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” Mel pressed. “Let me understand you.”

For a moment, you seemed torn between the instinct to flee and the possibility of opening up. Finally, you rose from the bed, walking toward the window, wrapping yourself in a sheet. From there, you stared out at the city, your thoughts warring within you.

“There was someone before you, before anyone else,” you began, your voice a mere whisper. “Someone who taught me that you can’t love without losing a part of yourself.” You closed your eyes for a moment, blocking out memories that still stung.

Mel sat up, hugging her knees, waiting for you to continue. She didn’t dare interrupt, fearing any word might make you retreat.

“Her name was Caitlyn,” you said at last, her name still difficult to speak. “She was… perfect. Or at least, that’s what I believed. She was everything I’m not: just, noble, constant. And I… I was her opposite. We were like night and day, but somehow, we worked. Or so I thought.”

You paused, and Mel could see the tension in your shoulders, as if the weight of your memories was too much to bear.

“At first, it was exhilarating. She made me feel alive, like I’d finally found a place where I belonged. But then… the differences began to show. Caitlyn wanted order, rules, a clear purpose. And I… I’m chaos. I’ve always been. I tried to be what she needed, I tried to change, but it was never enough. To Caitlyn, I was always a problem to solve, a piece that didn’t fit into her perfect world.”

Mel edged closer to you but didn’t dare touch you. “What happened to her?”

“She left,” you said, your voice steady but laden with pain. “She left because she couldn’t handle what I am. She left because she couldn’t endure the chaos. And I… well, I learned not to expect anything from anyone.”

You turned to Mel, and your eyes held something she hadn’t seen before: vulnerability. “That’s what I am, Mel. Chaos. I’m not constant, I’m not someone you can understand or fix. And I’m certainly not someone you can save.”

Mel shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to save you. I just want… to be with you. I want you to let me try.”

You smiled sadly, stepping closer and cupping her face in your hands. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” you whispered before kissing her with an intensity that seemed to etch your words into her heart.

That night, while Mel slept, her breathing soft and steady, you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts oscillating between the serenity of the moment and the storm raging in your mind. Her presence beside you, her gentle warmth, was a constant reminder of what she offered and what you could never fully give back.

Your gaze drifted to her face. In the faint light streaming through the window, she looked angelic—lips slightly parted, hair tousled yet perfect. Her softness, the way her body relaxed under the sheets, radiated a warmth that felt foreign to you.

But it wasn’t her you were thinking of. Unbidden, your mind wandered to Caitlyn. Mel’s face blurred, morphing for an instant into Caitlyn’s, and the echoes of nights spent with her stirred in your chest.

You remembered how Caitlyn used to sleep differently—more composed, her movements deliberate, even in the vulnerability of rest. The contrast with Mel was stark. Caitlyn had never been as open, as vulnerable as Mel. Her love had been stern, unyielding, and what hurt the most was that what you had felt for Caitlyn was nothing like what you felt now for Mel.

You wondered if, deep down, you wished Caitlyn were the one beside you now, holding you, breathing softly by your side. Sometimes, the thought of Caitlyn drew a sigh from your lips, and you couldn’t tell if you lamented it or longed for it with every fiber of your being. Perhaps, you thought, if Caitlyn had been there, things would have been different. She wouldn’t have allowed you to pull away. She would have fought for you, for your love.

But Caitlyn was gone. Caitlyn had left you, taking with her the chance to experience what a genuine, albeit imperfect, love could be. And now, here you were, with Mel, who, without intending to, was overwhelming you with her boundless love and expectations. A love so pure yet too much for someone like you, who had grown used to the emptiness, the cold that kept you safe.

As your eyes traced Mel’s peaceful features, you realized that while your body was here, beside her, your heart, no matter how much you tried to deny it, still sought Caitlyn. It was as if her image was etched into your mind, haunting every corner of your life.

“Why aren’t you her?” you whispered in your thoughts, wishing Mel’s presence could replace what you had lost. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t fair. Not to Mel, and not to yourself.

Caitlyn had been a part of you that you could never reclaim, and maybe—just maybe—that was why you kept your distance. For fear that Mel would become the next victim of a wound that had never truly healed.

You knew Mel was beginning to idealize you, to believe she could change you, as if love alone could mend the cracks in your soul. But you had learned the hard way that it couldn’t. Love doesn’t save; it transforms. And sometimes, those transformations left more scars than they healed.

You promised yourself that, for her sake, you wouldn’t let her get too close. Yet part of you—that small, fractured part that still yearned to feel something other than emptiness—hoped she wouldn’t give up. Yes. You were human, and you were selfish too.

Though your days unfolded with the tranquility of routine, your heart beat in chaotic disarray. At times, you couldn't help but think that Mel was an illusion—a figure too radiant, too intense. And yet, when you looked at her, you knew she was real. She was there, always, her eyes shining with a love so profound and genuine it seemed to consume you, leaving no room to escape.

You kept your distance, of course, because you couldn’t give her what she wanted—what she longed for. Deep down, you knew you’d never be the woman she believed you could become.

Mel was entirely devoted to you, and you were painfully aware of it. To her, you were the muse of her dreams, the missing piece in her life. Her art, her world—everything revolved around you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew you had become the center of her existence.

In her infinite passion, she had finished the painting she had been tirelessly working on. Each brushstroke was a silent cry from her heart—a tapestry woven from emotion and anguish, love and despair. The canvas now hanging in her studio captured the magnitude of what you shared but also the boundaries of what you were willing to give. The painting was beautiful, no doubt, but it was also a mirror reflecting all you could never be for her.

The city’s cultural showcase arrived, and as expected, Mel invited you. You felt at ease in the spotlight—you were born for it. The world around you was like a stage you commanded effortlessly. It was so easy, in fact, that it often bored you, driving you to seek novelty, to avoid stagnation at any cost.

You moved through the crowd, flirting shamelessly, aware that Mel couldn’t take her eyes off you. You found it amusing, you had to admit, but you didn’t care about her opinion or her feelings. You had learned to live only for yourself, as everyone should.

The painting was there, standing as a silent declaration of what had been between you. People gathered around it, observing, commenting, admiring. They all said the same things: “It’s stunning.” “A masterpiece.” But you knew that, for Mel, the painting wasn’t just a piece of art. It was a testament to what she felt for you. And that realization stung more than you had expected.

At the end of the night, as the crowd thinned, Mel took your hand with an expression of pride and vulnerability.

“You’ve charmed everyone tonight. Do you realize what you’ve done?” she said, her voice soft but brimming with emotion. “You helped me break through. My work is a success because of you.”

The light in her eyes reflected an uncomfortable truth. She wasn’t just talking about the painting. She didn’t see you merely as a muse for her art. She saw you as something more—something you didn’t know how to handle.

Mel wrapped her arms around you, her body pressing against yours with a familiarity that unsettled you. But when her lips moved closer, when she tried to kiss you, something inside you shattered. You turned your face away abruptly, rejecting her without hesitation.

Her expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to frustration. It seemed as though she couldn’t comprehend what she had done wrong. It didn’t matter how much she tried; you didn’t feel the same, and you never would, no matter how many gestures of love or tender words she offered.

Your gaze drifted back to the painting—a portrait of you that seemed to delve far beyond the surface. Who were you in that painting? Who were you to Mel? A muse? A perfect image in her mind? A fantasy she could never fulfill?

Before you could speak, Mel broke the silence, her tone urgent, almost desperate.

“I need you to know how I feel,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, as if each word cost her a great effort. “I need more from you. I want you to be mine—entirely. Not just your body, but your soul.”

Her words hit you like a crashing wave against an immovable stone. You felt trapped, as though you were being pulled into something you couldn’t control. But you couldn’t give her what she was asking for. You couldn’t promise her a future that didn’t exist.

“I’ve given you everything I have,” Mel continued, her voice softer now, fragile, like glass on the verge of breaking. “I’ve opened my heart, my mind, my art. But there’s still something missing. Something I don’t want to ask for, but I can’t stop longing for.”

The air in the room grew thick, suffocating. You could hardly breathe, as though an invisible force was tightening around your chest. The weight of her gaze, the intensity of her desire, crushed you.

“Mel…” you finally said, your voice cold, almost detached—a wall you had built to protect yourself. “I’ve been clear from the start. You’ll never be Caitlyn. No one ever will.”

Mel recoiled slightly, as if your words had struck her like a physical blow. Her eyes shimmered with pain, but she said nothing. She simply stared at you, searching for solace, for some sliver of hope. But there was nothing you could give her.

“You’ve fallen in love with an idea that isn’t real,” you said firmly, each word leaving your lips like a dagger. “No one will ever make me love again the way I loved her. I’m not a hero. I’m not a savior. I’m not what you’re looking for. What I can give you will never be enough.”

Mel opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She was processing, grasping for a way to undo what had just been said, to rewrite your words, to make them her own. But the words were already spoken. There was no turning back.

At last, the chill of your voice broke her.

“Then… what are we? What have I been to you?” she asked, her voice trembling, her body rigid, as though she wanted to run but couldn’t.

You stepped closer, though you made sure to keep an emotional distance. She needed to understand, no matter how much it hurt.

“What we are is nothing, Mel,” you said with unflinching resolve. “You and I are nothing. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

The air between you grew heavier, almost unbearable. The words hung in the room like a dense fog, enveloping everything around you. Mel stood frozen, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. It seemed she couldn’t fully process what you had just told her.

You knew those words were the cruelest you’d ever spoken, but they were also the most necessary. You couldn’t keep dragging Mel into a love you couldn’t reciprocate, and you couldn’t keep seeing her as someone she wasn’t.

She could never replace what you had lost with Caitlyn, and you couldn’t keep fooling yourself—or her.

Turning away, you let the silence between you grow. As you walked toward the exit, a knot tightened in your stomach. The words exchanged between you wouldn’t change anything. Perhaps the chasm between you was deeper than either of you had ever imagined.

Mel would never fully understand what you had lost or what it had cost you to get here. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t give her more.

The silence of those three days was torment itself. The gallery room, the paintings, the space you shared—it all remained, untouched, like an open wound refusing to heal. Time crept by sluggishly, as though the world itself had come to a halt. Mel didn’t seek you out. She had been shattered, and the image of her face—confused, hurt, and broken—lingered in your mind like a ghost. You knew what you’d said had been necessary, but you also knew it had fractured something deep within her. You never intended to hurt her, but some truths, no matter how cruel, serve as shields. And this wall you had built was meant to protect you both.

By the third day, when you thought you might finally begin to breathe without the weight of her gaze, she appeared.

Mel stood at the door of your apartment. Her eyes were red, swollen from what must have been hours—perhaps days—of crying. Her face was drawn, and when she finally spoke, her voice was as fractured as her composure, trembling under the weight of words that seemed to cost her everything.

"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You simply looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, the world vanished. There was only her—the woman who had stormed into your life with all the force of a tempest, leaving you unsteady in her wake. And now, that tempest seemed extinguished, leaving behind nothing but the vulnerability you had feared seeing.

"I know I overstepped—I didn’t respect your space when you needed it, I know that," she began, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, as though bracing herself. "But I can do better. I can’t let this end like this, Zephyr. I can’t let us hang in this void."

Her eyes glistened with a determination that made you hesitate. It was as if she was clawing for a lifeline, pleading silently for forgiveness—for the chance to undo what had already been done. Yet, instead of retreating, she stepped closer, her words growing more desperate, more raw.

"I—I love you. Do you understand? I love you," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the confession. "I’ve tried, but I can’t live without you. I’ve thought about it, over and over, and I can’t leave this unfinished. I need us to matter."

You stood frozen, her words hanging in the air like shards of glass. Part of you wanted to reach for her, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But fear—fear of causing her more pain—anchored you to the spot.

"Mel..." you whispered finally, your voice soft, yet laced with a coldness you couldn’t suppress. "I warned you from the start—not to fall in love with me."

The words lingered in the space between you, and for a moment, you thought she might not understand. But the light in her eyes didn’t fade. Instead, her gaze grew more intense, as though she were searching for a crack, a weakness, a way to prove you wrong.

"But why? Why not?" she pressed, her hands now reaching out to you, as if trying to pull you back to her, back to the love she so desperately clung to. "We can go to London. We can start fresh, together. I need to return to my work there, but I won’t leave you behind. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Come with me—everything will change. I’ll make sure you never regret it. Please, just say yes. Say yes to me."

Her words hung in the air, shimmering with promises of a future that felt more like a dream than reality. London, a fresh start, a new chapter—it all sounded so perfect, as though the past could be erased with one step forward. But you knew better. You knew you couldn’t escape the truth of what you felt—or didn’t feel.

"Mel," you sighed, letting the carefully built walls around your heart crumble. "It’s not about any of that. I don’t care if you leave or stay. I have my life here, and I’m happy in my own way. I don’t need you, Mel—I never did. And you don’t need me either. No one needs someone else to survive. It feels that way now, but in time, you’ll see I was right."

She took another step toward you, her eyes searching yours desperately, as if willing you to change your mind. But all you could do was hold her gaze, unable to offer the solace she craved.

"I care about you, Mel," you continued, your voice heavy with sorrow, "but not the way you care about me. Not the way you need me to. I can’t keep being the lifeline you’re grasping at. I told you not to fall for me because I knew I couldn’t be what you wanted."

Her breath hitched, and the raw anguish in her eyes was almost unbearable.

"Then what am I to you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper. "What have I been to you, if not what I hoped?"

You held her gaze, searching for the right words, but none would come. You couldn’t tell her she had been nothing more than an illusion—a reflection of what she wanted to see. And yet, you knew you couldn’t keep pretending to be something you weren’t.

"You are someone who brought light into my life," you said at last, your tone as heavy as hers. "Someone who gave me moments of joy, of companionship. I’ve learned from you, Mel. But that’s not enough. I can’t be what you’re looking for. I’m not who you think I am."

Her expression shattered further, the pale mask of her face cracking under the weight of your words. Her lips trembled as she struggled to respond, to find some ground to stand on in the midst of your rejection.

"What do you want from me?" she asked finally, her voice breaking. "What can I do to make you see how much I love you? What more can I give?"

"Let me go," you replied softly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid truths. "Let me go, so you can find what you truly need. It isn’t me."

The silence between you became suffocating. The air itself felt heavier, the moment unbearable in its finality. She stood frozen, as though the world had stopped around her, unable to process what you had just said.

You took a slow breath, knowing what you had to do next.

"Tell me," you said, your voice steady, though tinged with sadness, "what’s my favorite color?"

She blinked, stunned by the question. Her gaze flitted across your face, searching for an answer, for some clue. But you both knew she didn’t know.

The silence stretched, and finally, she admitted it. She didn’t know.

That was all the proof you needed.

You smiled softly, the gesture laced with sorrow.

"You don’t know me, Mel," you said gently. "You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with the idea of me—the version of me you’ve created in your mind. Not the real me."

Before her, your figure stood firm, distant—a shadow fading slowly into the past.

No more words were needed. Everything had already been said, each syllable carving the path to this inevitable moment. The goodbye had been silently written long before, and now the last chapter was closing. Mel’s heart thundered in her chest, a pain blossoming within her that defied words. So much remained unspoken, so many pleas hovered on her lips, yet none escaped. She knew the truth—this ending was already written, and no force in the world could rewrite it.

You stepped toward her, and though the storm inside threatened to consume her, Mel didn’t move, didn’t speak. How she wished for simplicity, for perfection—for you to look at her with the same love that she had poured into you endlessly. But reality painted a different picture.

With a gentleness that was almost cruel in its tenderness, you kissed her cheek. The touch, fleeting as it was, carried the weight of an eternity. Mel closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the gesture seep into her skin. But it wasn’t the kiss itself that shattered her—it was the sadness behind it, the resignation of a love that had never flourished the way she had dreamed.

“Thank you for everything,” you said, your voice steady yet distant. “For all that we shared. But this... it can’t continue.”

Mel’s eyes searched yours, desperate for a flicker of doubt, a hint that perhaps this wasn’t final. But all she found was determination—unyielding and absolute—lodging itself into her chest like a dagger.

She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t accept it.

“Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of her anguish.

You hesitated, your gaze softening momentarily. Then, stepping back, you looked at her with a bittersweet blend of sorrow and resolve. It was as if everything Mel had ever sought in you, every piece of the connection she had tried to weave, was now slipping through her fingers like sand.

“I don’t want you to keep waiting for something I can’t give,” you began, your tone firm but tinged with regret. “I don’t want you to waste your time. Time is precious, Mel. And I can’t change who I am, nor do I want to. Not for you, not for anyone. The healthiest thing for both of us is to say goodbye and move on with our lives—as we were always meant to.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave, the air rushing from her lungs as though the ground had been pulled out from under her. Goodbye? Was this truly it? Could everything they had built, everything they had shared, crumble so easily in a single breath?

“No!” she cried out, her voice rising involuntarily, as if sheer desperation could bend fate. But the plea felt hollow, echoing in the void between them. There was nothing left to salvage.

You studied her for a long moment, your expression unreadable. There was no anger in your eyes, only the quiet sorrow of someone bidding farewell to a dream that had never truly been theirs. Mel’s tear-filled gaze searched for answers, for something—anything—that could stop this unraveling. But all she found was silence.

It was over.

Mel swallowed hard, feeling a fracture deep within her soul. She couldn’t let the despair consume her, couldn’t let the pain define her. And yet, it did. It was as if the weight of the universe had descended upon her, every emotion—grief, abandonment, inadequacy—crashing over her all at once.

You turned away, your steps carrying you toward the door. The finality of it hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mel remained frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. She could only watch as the last vestiges of what she had cherished slipped away.

At the threshold, you paused. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though you might turn back, as though the story might still change. But you didn’t. Instead, you sighed softly, your back to her, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the space between you.

“Goodbye, Mel,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. And with that final whisper, you disappeared, leaving her alone with the emptiness, the ache, and the reality that nothing could be undone.

Mel stood there in the stillness, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. Minutes passed before she finally moved, retreating into the solitude of her home. The quiet enveloped her, and the weight of your absence pressed down with unbearable force. Something inside her had shattered, something she knew could never be made whole again.

By the next morning, Mel was at the airport, her ticket to London clutched tightly in her hand. The cold city air greeted her as she stepped off the plane, biting against her skin as if to remind her she was still alive. But inside, she felt hollow.

In her hand, she held a postcard—a picture of the Greek isles, the sea and mountains stretching endlessly. It was one of the few remnants of you she still possessed, a fragment of the life you had once shared. Staring at it, a phrase echoed in her mind, as clear as if you had whispered it in her ear:

“Promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.”

And in that moment, something broke entirely. It was the hardest truth she had ever faced, the truth she had buried deep within her heart. She had never been enough. She would never be enough.

But she accepted it. With a heart fractured but resolute, she accepted it. And as she stepped into the crowd, she understood a lesson she had always known: some stories do not end happily. Peace is not always attainable. But at least the love she had felt was real, even if it had not been returned.

[carame1bunny]

Hi! ⋆˚✿˖°

I do hope that someone still sees the posts on this account!

I plan on writing again!!! I am awfully sorry for my disappearance, it was due to the fact that I’m currently a high school senior and I’m getting my ass kicked by existential crisis•_•

I am currently very into Arcane (okay, maybe the word “obsessed” is more fitting) and I would happily take requests about:

𐙚Mel Medarda x Reader

𐙚Viktor x Reader

𐙚Jayce Talis x Reader

𐙚Jayvik x Reader

𐙚Meljayvik x Reader

Requests could be anything! Angst, fluff, smut or any combination of these!

(Please, keep in mind that I only write for fem!Reader! It’s what I know and what I’m comfortable with. Thank you for understanding<3)

I hope you have a lovely day! xoxo Bunny ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

[local-crying-boy]

🄼🄴🄻 🄼🄴🄳🄰🅁🄳🄰

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝕀 𝕤𝕡𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕖𝕪𝕖, 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕩𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕝𝕗

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚎𝚕 𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝…?

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>> 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚎𝚕 𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙼𝚎𝚕, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜! 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 875

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Despite not being a councillor yourself, you still ended up finding yourself buying gifts for each of them. By being involved with a certain Councillor Medarda, meant that each action had to be taken cautiously, even by you.

Even in such a joyous holiday, there were still political actions to be taken. You found yourself, indirectly, helping Mel with such actions. You thought, one day, about how your being involved with Mel somewhat helped her to make connections even she wasn't doing it herself.

So, there you were, a few days before Christmas, delivering presents to the other Councillors, after delivering presents to your friends and family. It was tiring, of course, but a part of you felt an obligation to help Mel out with gaining favour with the Councillors, despite having favour with some already.

It was a well thought-out political action, in a way: Buttering them up so that they would have more of a chance to listen to any ideas Mel had in those meetings.

You were still tired, though. Exhausted, really.

You eventually crept into Mel's room, like both of you had done on numerous occasions. The light was still on, you knew that Mel would stay up a little later for you so that she could see that you came back unharmed. She was in her bed with a lavish nightgown, sitting on top of her covers with a book in her lap.

Her head turned up to you when she heard the door creak open, a smile pulling on her lips as she put aside her book. "You took your time."

You let out a scoff, though there was no malice behind the noise. You tiredly waddled over to her bed, slumping into her bed, laying far away from her for a few moments, before you started to inch closer to her.

You series of actions only caused her to let out a little laugh, wrapping an arm around you once you were close enough. Once you were close enough to feel her warmth, you leaned your head on her lap, an act done by you several times before.

"I have been..." You paused for a moment, letting out a dramatic sigh. "All over the city."

"Well, aren't you a little elf?" She mused with a giggle, her fingers brushing away some of the hair that fell in front of your face.

"Next year, I might just send it in the post." You muttered quietly, your arms wrapping around her waist so that you could manoeuvre yourself to comfortably cuddle her. "Being an elf is tiring."

You could sense the amusement radiating off of Mel as much as the warmth that did as well, you've known her long enough to know that she would have a certain smile on her face as she shook her head.

"Then, rest up, my little elf." She said gently, kissing the top of her head, before moving herself, and you, to lay down in bed. "I'll even let you sleep in tomorrow morning."

"You're the best, Mel." You chuckled quietly, looking up at her with a sleepy gaze. "Actually, that reminds me."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as you, seemingly, got over your tiredness to sit up for a moment. You leaned over to the bedside table on the left side of the bed, your, recently, designated storage for whenever you slept over.

You reached into one of the draws, pulling out a little box wrapped in wrapping paper. "Since you're busy with Councillor-ing duties this Christmas and I'm away for family-ing duties, I thought I'd give this you before I left tomorrow evening."

You moved back over to Mel, presenting her with the neatly wrapped gift, but before you could reach out for it, you pulled away for a moment. "You have to wait for Christmas, though."

She laughed once more, rolling her eyes at your insistence, but she agreed. "Yes, yes, of course."

As you passed her the little box, she looked over at you with a joyful expression. "Thank you, my love."

"Not a problem, my Darling." You replied with, taking her hand and kissing the back of it gently. "What elf would I be if I couldn't even deliver a gift to my own light?"

She rolled her eyes at you again, leaning over to her bedside table to place her gift on the top of it, then returning to how she was previously sitting. "Shut up."

You chuckled alongside her, the two of you soon getting under the covers and returning to the position you were both in before you gave Mel her gift.

"I'm going to wait to give you your present." Mel decided softly, her smile still present on her face. "I want to see the look on your face when you open it."

"Hm, okay." You hummed gently, nodding. "Even though we're both back after Christmas?"

"Oh, it's not like it's a week after Christmas." She chuckled out, "It's only the next day, <<Reader>>."

"Okay, okay. Fair enough." You laughed out once again, your thumb tenderly rubbing circles into her thigh.

There was a few moments of silence, Mel decided it was late enough, but your eyes already shut before she turned off the lights. A quiet 'goodnight' being heard from your lips as you felt your mind go blank with sleep.

"Goodnight, my love." She muttered back to you.

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Masterlist

[jitarossun]

Smoke and Sparks

CHAPTER TWO

Summary : Several weeks have passed since the last incident at the council, but as you were walking through the corridors of the academy, you came across Mel, who gave you an interesting piece of information.

TW : Salo being an asshole (again), use of y/n

Pairing : Jayce x fem!reader (platonic) / Salo x fem!reader / Mel x fem!reader (platonic)

Words count : 3.3k

A/N : Just a little message to thank you for the support for the first chapter, I honestly wasn't expecting that (especially knowing that salo is not a much loved character) and just know my requests are open ! Enjoy !

-> Previous chapter

It's been several weeks since the incident, and you've had time to digest your rage, although there's still a small feeling of resentment deep inside you that you're trying as hard as you can to keep quiet.

Jayce had kept his promise and hadn't asked you to go back to the council with him, so you were happy, but at the same time you felt bad. Even though he reassured you that there was no problem and that “we all have a meltdown”, you couldn't help feeling that you'd let him down and that you'd lost some of the trust he'd had in you.

It wasn't just that he'd stopped asking you to go with him, it was that he didn't mention the council at all. Previously, he would have just said as you were writing his notes that they would be read for the council, so all the words had to be chosen carefully. Well, that's not the case anymore. He'd let you write and then readjust it later when he thought you'd left the workshop. 

It made you sad, but at the same time you thought he was doing it for your own good, and that made you happy.

As you were walking through the corridors towards the classroom where you were due to give your lesson, you came across the councilor Mel Medarda. A feeling of unease overcame you the moment your eyes met and this feeling turned to fear when she stopped in front of you, clearly intending to talk to you. 

You stopped in your turn and looked at her, those few seconds of silence were long, you couldn't help but admire her. Her slender figure was covered with a long white dress with black collar and large slits that highlighted her long legs, her brown and soft skin, her hazel eyes, her beautiful coily braids hair and these jewelries attached on her skin, making her shine even more.

And if that wasn't enough, her voice sounded like a perfect melody. “Good morning (Y/N).”

“Good morning…” You answered back as she looked up and down at you with a gentle smile that made that uneasy feeling go away. You gulped and managed to say a bit more. “I think I need to apologize for the last time…” She raised a hand to cut you off and it worked, you look at her hand then at her eyes. “No need to apologize, Salo can be… irritating sometimes”. You blinked, you were expecting her to scold you like “nothing gives you the right to disrespect any councillors like you did, what you did is unacceptable” and yet accept your apologies. But no, she agreed with you and was understanding, more than you imagined. 

She then placed a hand on your arm as a gesture of reassurance. “Jayce made up all the work the next time, so there's nothing to worry about”. You finally smiled and nodded, feeling much better about Jayce, the council and even yourself, but not for too long. 

“Are you coming to the gala tonight?” and your smile faded immediately. “The gala?” You asked, confused and she nodded at that. “Yes, as his business is doing very well at the moment following the construction of the Hexgates, councilor Hoskel organises a gala to which he's invited Jayce and told him he's free to invite whoever he wants. I thought you'd come, but it seems you don't even know about it, am I wrong?” She retracted her hand and you shook your head. 

“Umh... No indeed... He didn't tell me about it…” Mel raised an eyebrow as you looked away, and that feeling of guilt was back. Was it because you'd ruined his presentation? Was he angry with you? disappointed? Was he going to tell you soon that he didn't want to work with you any more? You start to overthink, dozens of questions spinning around in your head as the clock ticks down to the lecture you're about to give. You took a deep breath and looked at Mel again. “Forgive me, councilor, I have to go, I've got a lesson to give this morning, it's been a pleasure talking to you”. Mel grinned and walked away, probably having more important matters to take care of. “Have a nice day (Y/N)”. 

Once in the classroom, your body was there, but not your mind, your thoughts were elsewhere. You overthink again and again, unable to stop yourself, your thoughts spinning in all directions, between your studies, your work, Jayce, what happened at the council, Salo, that bloody man.

It was a long hour, but fortunately the course was simple, the students had no questions and left quickly. As you put your things away, you wondered if you really wanted to go back to the workshop to confront Jayce. But in the end you had no choice, you were bound to have this conversation at some point, and you're curious anyway. Admittedly, it was a councilor who organised the gala, and he promised not to broach the subject again, but it's not just the council over there, and to be honest, you're fond of this kind of event, so you felt a bit sorry that he hadn't told you about it. 

Once back at the workshop, you entered and your eyes fell on Jayce, who was standing in front of the chalkboard, tapping the chalk against his chin, contemplating the lines of calculations in front of him. You looked around the lab, expecting to see Viktor around, but no, surprisingly he wasn't, which wasn't like him. But on the one hand, it was convenient, because it gave you a good excuse to start a conversation.

“Viktor's not here today?” Jayce froze before turning back to you, obviously he hadn't heard you arrive. “No, he's gone to see Heimerdinger or something…” He turned back to his blackboard, seemingly focused on what was in front of him. 

You put your notebook down on the desk while humming, thinking about your next words. You'd never had any trouble talking to him, but since the incident it's been different. You turn to him, resting your hands on the desk behind you, deciding to be blunt.

“You didn't tell me there was a gala tonight.” And at that moment, you mentally facepalmed. After all, he didn't have to tell you, he could very well have chosen not to invite you if he didn't want to. He didn't look away from his blackboard when he answered you with a simple “Indeed”. You were expecting him to go into more detail, but he just started writing on the board. 

A short moment of silence before you decide to speak again. “Are you going to go?” You asked, and he hummed a barely audible “probably”. 

Alright, this time you felt there was a problem, so rather than beating around the bush, you might as well be even more blunt.

“Are you mad at me?” Those words tipped Jayce's head towards you, looking at you incredulously and confused. “Mad at you? Why?”

It's your turn to look at him incredulously, as if the answer were more than obvious. “For what happened at the council.”

He then laughed, rolling his eyes before putting a hand on his hips. "Still on that?" He grinned at you. You rubbed your arm, a bit embarrassed before cracking a small whimpered "Yes"

“I've already told you that everything is fine, that you don't have to feel bad or apologise. How many times have I told you that over the last few weeks, seriously?” 

You sigh, realizing that maybe you've overthink too much. Again. You rubbed your forehead with your middle finger and your thumb. “But why didn't you tell me about tonight's gala then?”

He raised an eyebrow “I thought you wanted me to stop bothering you with all this council stuff.. so a gala organised by a councilor, I thought you'd obv-..” he cuts himself off, crossing his arms, smirking. “You wanna come to the gala?”

You blushed a bit, you hated being predictable, so when people managed to read you like an open book, you felt vulnerable and suddenly shy. “Does this mean you're inviting me?” You chuckled through a clenched jaw to mask your discomfort.

He laughed again, that attitude, he has seen it a few times in months working with you, and each time, it made him laugh a lot. "Sure i'm inviting you but..." His expression softened as he continued “You know the whole council will be there? Including Salo…” 

You tensed up a bit at the name, but you try to reassure yourself as best you can. Salo will be there, but he's just one of many guests, you'll just have to avoid him and everything will be fine, you don't have any problems with the other councillors, at least that's what you hope, because apart from Mel, you hadn't spoken to any of the others. Would they have any preconceptions about you after seeing and hearing you speak for just a few minutes? You shake your head, stopping yourself once again from falling into a whirlwind of questions. “Salo won't be a problem, at least I don't think so…” You chuckled. “I mean, last time I had no choice but to talk to him as it was a small gathering, but this time there'll probably be a crowd, I could talk to other people and who knows? find myself a prince to make me dance?” you smirked, making Jayce chuckled. “Maybe yes... but you know (Y/N), there might be a lot of people there but you'll soon be doing the rounds of the guests, believe me. Besides, what will you do if Salo strikes up another conversation with you despite the fact that you've been avoiding him? Mh?”

He wasn't wrong, and you knew it, but you certainly weren't going to start basing your life on Salo. You like galas, you want to go, and this idiot isn't going to stop you, so you try as hard as you can to reassure Jayce, or at least that's what you're trying to make yourself believe, the reality is that these words were more for you than for Jayce. “Don't worry, I've got this one under control, I promise I won't get into trouble and lose my cool.” And Jayce looked at you suspiciously, probably not believing you but he shrugged. “Well, come to the gala then, if that's what you're after, I'd be delighted to invite you”. 

You couldn’t help but smile widely, already walking to the doors of the workshop as you were already on the case of choosing a dress for tonight, but in the back of your mind, there were still Salo’s words at the meeting, and whatever you were doing, you couldn’t shake off that bitterness feeling you had.

The gala itself wasn't too bad. Everyone was well-dressed, there were lots of wines served, and so far you've tasted two and they were excellent, even though you're not a wine lover.

You spoke to a few people from time to time, mainly professors from the academy that you knew, although one moment you found yourself in the middle of a conversation with some rich investors from Noxus. You were feeling a bit out of place at the gala, Viktor obviously wasn't there, Sky hadn't turned up and Jayce was nowhere to be found.

A third glass of wine, this one sweeter, something you enjoyed, a change from the piquette of the workshop or the suspicious beverages of the undercity.

Music was coming from a phonograph, giving a light, relaxed atmosphere to the huge room, some people were engaged in a slow dance, others a waltz. You looked around to potentially dance with someone, but no one seemed to be alone.

Suddenly, you caught sight of Salo, chatting to Hoskel, for once they weren't arguing. You clutched your glass a bit tighter, looking at him in disgust.

But he suddenly turned his head and he saw you looking at him like this. He looked you up and down also in disgust before rolling his eyes and turning back to Hoskel.

Gritting your teeth, you couldn't believe what had just happened. You were the one who was supposed to roll your eyes at him, you were the one who was supposed to ignore him and yet here he was the one who had been able to afford to do so.

You tap your glass with your index, taking a big gulp that burns your throat slightly. Even though wine is good, you have to admit that champagne was something you preferred.

"Already trying to get drunk?" 

A voice spoke behind you and a big hand landed on your shoulder. You turn your head to meet Jayce's hazel eyes, staring at you with a smirk.

"Very funny" you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, a grumpy Y/N... what happened this time?"

You didn't answer, gesturing with your head towards Salo without a word, Jayce followed your movement and saw what you wanted to show him, making him wince. "Oh, I warned you, didn’t I ?"

“Yes, I know, but just before you arrived…” you sigh, not finishing your sentence, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There was some weird eye contact... Anyway, never mind…” and another big gulp to finish that sentence, just before Jayce takes your drink.

“What you-”

“I didn't invite you here to get drunk, you said you weren't going to get into into trouble with him”

“I'm not going to get into trouble with him!” You replied instantly, raising your voice a little, causing a few heads to turn towards you. Shamefully, you cleared your throat and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, a faint red pigment reaching your cheeks as you spoke softer and lower. “I was saying... I'm not getting in trouble with him, it's just that I spotted him and we made eye contact”.

Jayce shrugged, sipping his wine, moving his hand in a circle to make the wine waves in the glass as he's looking at it. “You should go out a bit”.

“Go out ? I arrived less than two hours ago”

“I'm not asking you to leave, I'm asking you to go and get some fresh air and come back afterwards”

You think about it a little, but it's true that you weren't doing much anyway. Talking was fine for thirty minutes but it was getting boring, there was no one to dance with and you weren't going to prove Jayce right by drinking too much and end up drunk.

In a groan, you give in, “well, you're probably right…”. Jayce smiled and pointed at two large french windows. “I'll probably see you later anyway”.

You nodded, smiling one last time at Jayce before heading for the backyard. As you stepped out, a soft, if slightly cold, air settled on your skin, but you didn't mind, it was quite pleasant at the moment. Hoskel's estate had a small garden that separated from the vines that surrounded his home. It wasn't far from the academy, but you still found it hard to believe that you were still at Piltover. And it was even harder to believe that Zaun wasn't that far away either.

Spotting a small scrap metal table surrounded by garden chairs, you decide to sit down at one of them, your elbow on the table, your chin in the palm of your hand, you close your eyes a little, enjoying this little moment of calm, very different from the atmosphere you had just left.

This silence allows you to plunge into your thoughts, or rather your memories. All those moments when, for a moment's respite like this one, you left the undercity during the night to sit on the edge of the bridge separating Zaun and Piltover, the only thing in common that unites the cities. All those nights just watching the waving water, the background noises coming from both towns, your pencil scratching the paper you were writing on when sometimes you decided to bring a notebook to draw, to write or even to make swan origami that you had fun throwing into the water until one floated up.

A slight smile lit up your face, but suddenly one of the french windows opened and you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes and saw Salo approaching with a smug smirk. 

“Look who's settling in here like it's her own home…”

“I'm not doing anything wrong.” you reply coldly, you couldn't believe he'd come here just to talk to you. Or rather pissing you off. “If you've come to annoy me you can leave.”

He sat in front of you, arms and legs crossed, keeping that smile that you'd currently love to slap out of his face. “To allow yourself to leave a gala to go to the back court and sit without permission at a councilor's table, that's what I call… Disrespectful.”

You rolled your eyes, wondering if he was really serious. “As if that's not what you're doing.”

He laughed, his smirk widening, resting his forearm on the table, leaning a bit towards you, his voice a bit lower. “I’m a friend of Hoskel… And by the way, I'm not the one who stood out 3 weeks ago in front of this same councillor.”

Of course he’d remind you that, you clenched your fists and your jaw, you had nothing to respond to and he knew it. “What do you want.”

“Oh darling don’t be angry” he answered, leaning back in his chair. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just waiting for the good time.”

“So you waited until I was alone to come and talk to me? I find that rather cowardly.” You retorted sharply, trying to regain control of the situation.

“Aren’t you a feisty little Zaunite ?”

You narrow your eyes, not a fan of that nickname, you cross your legs and arms defensively, gripping tightly both of your biceps, and you repeat yourself. “Just tell me what you want from me and let's leave it at that”

Once again, Salo leaned slightly towards you, his chin on his knuckles, his elbows on the table. “I said I need to talk to you. But not here, not now.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side, an expression of both curiosity and suspicion on your face, waiting for him to continue.

“It's not the right time and it's certainly not the right place. No, I'd rather you came to see me at my office, it would be more private.”

Your jaw almost dropped. That man that looks down on you every chance he gets wants you to come and see him in his office without even telling you why.

“And what makes you think I'll accept?”

Salo chuckled, that smirk returning to his face. “It's not as if you had a choice, do I really have to remind you that I'm a councilor? That if I demand you come, you must obey? that I have the necessary and sufficient powers to send you back across the bridge in that damn city of yours?”

You remained silent. It's true that you didn't really have a choice, there was nothing you could do but accept if you wanted to keep your place here.

“You see Heimerdinger's laboratory ? My office isn't far, just a few corridors away”

On a bluff, you try one last time not to let him have the advantage on you. “Do you really think I care? Send me back to Zaun if you want.”

Salo rose from his chair, turning back to the french window where the gala was still taking place behind, he spoke without turning around. ”Maybe you don't care about your future, but I think Talis would be very disappointed to see his plans cancelled.” He opened the door, the music filling the heavy atmosphere that was between the two of you, he turned his head slightly, his gaze piercing yours. “And all because of you. But you're going to do the right thing, aren't you?”

-> Next chapter

[sukiyurii]

my last poll didn't get enough traction bc the app glitched my shit out 💔 ANYWAY

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hii, i just read all and i mean ALL of ur fics, but i saw you wrote for arcane women and was wondering if you could write headcanons abt them with a socially awkward/anxious reader?? If not thats A-Ok 👌 with me

Sure! How is everyone doing after the first three eps? I still haven't seen it but the edits I've seen... oh boy.

"I Got You." | Arcane Ladies Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: How the ladies of Arcane(Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel) act with a socially awkward and/or anxious partner

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Spoiler Free, On The Shorter Side, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX

– At first, Jinx didn't get that you were socially awkward. She was used to people being awkward or even scared around her so she thought it was the same case with you until you two got closer.

– After knowing that your awkwardness was just you and not your fear of her, she observed you in social situations and noted what made you more anxious than normal.

– For example, she noticed you're more anxious and timid in bigger, louder spaces but if a space was quiet and quaint, you would be just fine so she often took you to quiet places for dates.

– If Jinx notices you're anxious in places you typically aren't, without a doubt she's removing you from the situation and taking you home where you can relax. No words, just grabs and tugs.

– She's tried the pep talk route before but it ended up in her rambling and somehow planning a terrorist scheme aloud... (yeah, a few patrons quickly left the area after hearing that), so she decided to scrap that idea altogether.

– At home though she would prepare what she calls, "A Safety Nest". It was a place in your shared space that had all your favorite things and trinkets, and she usually kept the space dimly lit and played your favorite music to calm you down.

– In social interactions where you take the lead in conversation, Jinx would quietly encourage you with big, almost alarming smiles and "gentle" pats on your back. Let's face it, Jinx can be socially awkward herself.

– Once the conversation concludes, she'll jump on you proudly, ruffle up your clothing, and pinch your cheeks endearingly all while calling you weird nicknames and quoting what you said while mimicking your tone and cadence.

––

VI

– Before you've had your first real conversation together, Vi could sense that you were an anxious individual.

– You fidgeted with your body while speaking, didn't hold eye contact long, and used a decent amount of filler words to casualize your sentences.

– She thought it was endearing to watch you act and move as if you thought no one truly cared about what you were saying or were afraid of boring others but you never bored her. She didn't think it was possible.

– You had tells and quips that revealed themselves with each conversation you two had. You showed more and more of your personality the more you got comfortable with her too. Vi loved it.

– When you spoke to her, especially when you went on tangents about things you were interested in, she always showed signs of active listening by nodding and asking follow-up questions. Even days later, she'll bring up the topic again to see if you have any updates.

– She made you feel seen and heard, something you've subconsciously craved. And when you went on your worry rambles, she consoled you and tried her best to stop you from spiraling.

– You thought about a lot of things and oftentimes about things no one else thought about. Vi thought your brain must've been exhausted with all the worries, doubts, and judgments that were usually wrapped up as others' but were truly your own; it was a lot for one person to handle so she strove to let you know that you were not alone.

– Is there a night you can't sleep because of your racing mind? Vi is there, holding you or reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. She can't sleep until you do anyway so why not speed the process along?

– You often had yourself stuck with your head stressing and worrying about multiple things at once and Vi was always there to bring you down to Earth.

__

CAITLYN

– Caitlyn's an encourager and a comforter with you.

– She's patient and silently allows you to take your time when gathering your thoughts midconversation but she'll also be the one to say, "It's okay, take your time," in the sweetest way possible.

– If there's an instance when you two are out and about and you really want something but are too scared to get it, she'll spring into action and get that thing for you. (Even if it was just a napkin).

– The only time she's frazzled socially is when you both are in an unfamiliar area and need to ask for directions. She'll stumble over her words and try to get someone's attention but they're moving too fast to hear her soft words.

– She'll get frustrated and you end up comforting her, but after a few backrubs, she's ready to try again. Her voice is strong and powerful, and people have no problem hearing her.

– You secretly thank whomever you have to for her determination but there was no way in hell you were going to walk up to a stranger and ask for directions like a tourist... which you were.

– Since Caitlyn's job has her socializing with a lot of people, she can get burnt out easily. Especially if work hasn't been going her way lately but even if she's burnt out and tired, if you seem to be more awkward or anxious than her, she's more than happy to step up socially.

– When you both have someplace to attend to or some event that holds significance, Caitlyn will not hesitate to stage a "social rehearsal" with you. She'll make flashcards of topics you could bring up, you'll both dress accordingly for the event in her living room, and she'll pretend to be an assortment of people so you can get used to different personalities all at once.

– It may seem like this is all for you, but honestly it helps her too. Sometimes she misses the personal cues of conversation leading the other to think she's a black-and-white thinking who has no time for pleasanties. Not true! She's very pleasant... sometimes she's just shy.

– Shyness is not a crime!

– After talking with the host and a few others she has to talk to due to her job, her social battery is depleted. She's extremely thankful you're able to recognize this and suggest leaving early. What would you two do without each other?

––

SEVIKA

– Oh, man. This lady found your awkwardness charming as hell.

– Your awkwardness was different than all the nerds and scaly-beings she's forced to be around. You were cute, looked perfect sitting next to her, and your awkwardness, as mentioned before, had a certain charming quality she can't quite place.

– She'll see you in your workplace trying to make casual conversation or small talk but none of your topics seemed to be landing. Your coworkers would give you a thin pressed-lips smile that she wanted to strike off of them to your attempts and then scoff at you behind your back.

– You were authentically yourself and those bastards didn't know what to do with it. They were scared, not her though.

– When you two got closer and comfortable enough with each other that you could tease one another or make playful jabs at the other's expense, no doubt she would tease you about your awkwardness.

– With those gorgeous eyes of yours, you would look everywhere else but her own, prompting her to say, "You know you can look me in the eyes, right? I won't bite", with the stupidest most shit-eating smirk on her face. And then when you look at her, a bit shocked and playfully annoyed, her smirk would only grow. "Unless you want me to."

– Sevika never made your awkwardness seem like a flaw. Your awkwardness came with you and she wanted all of you so she often encouraged your awkwardness.

– If she caught you trying to "reel" it in or realizing that you've talked for a few seconds too long, she'll playfully scold you and tell you to continue or to "let it out". Y'know. As someone who seethes dominance does.

– There would be an instance in which you go to Sevika asking for advice to be "less awkward" and her only response would be, "Why? I like your awkwardness, you don't need to change it. Anyone else who thinks otherwise is a sad loser and don't deserve to be in your life anyways."

– like damnnnn, okay!

– Safe to say you never asked her a question like that again.

--

MEL

– Mel understands your worries about what others think and the awkwardness that can come with it so she likes to help you in any way she can.

– If you're stressed about a council meeting and afraid of what everyone's going to think about the new perspective you'd like to bring to the table, she'll reassure you and tell you she's right by your side.

– If she can't physically with her hand on the small of your back, she give you nods of encouragement, raise her brows proudly, and look at you with that sense of pride and admiration in her golden eyes.

– After the meeting goes well, which she knew would, she'll congratulate you with your favorite drink and a night in doing all your favorite things.

– Even if there were parts in the meeting that were rocky, like the council people asking questions you weren't prepared for or getting rowdy, she'll say you did an excellent job and what you presented will help the people of Piltover.

– Oh, and don't think for a second that she wasn't sending glares and daggers to those who stirred up your anxiety even more. If looks could kill.

– Mel sees that sometimes your awkwardness and anxiety result in people-pleasing and she would shut that down real quick. She's fallen into that dangerous pool before and knows how hard it feels when you disappoint others and how much harder it is to get out of that mindset.

– She can get quite spirited with her encouragement...

– "Well, if they don't like it, that's on them! They don't know something good when they see it." "I've learned that hard way that you can't please everyone. You might as well say what you have to now. They can get over themselves later."

– It's actually quite attractive to see her stand up for you, even if she was standing up for the possibility.

– Always keeping her words in your mind, you find yourself navigating through life easier and you only have her to thank.

WC: 1,705

[thesecondhandwoman]

BETWEEN SILK AND STEAL

Mel x f!reader x Sevika

Synopsis: After a night with your two girlfriends, Mel and Sevika, you get to experience another morning or love and care with light banter.

The first sensation you registered was warmth. It wasn’t the warmth of blankets or the sun creeping through silk curtains — it was the kind that radiated from bare skin pressed against yours. One side of you was wrapped in firm muscle, all sharp edges and strength. The other was decadence itself: smooth, soft skin that smelled of honeyed oils and wealth.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, vision greeted by tousled golden curls. Mel Medarda lay on your left, one hand tucked under her cheek, her lashes long and resting gently against her skin. She slept like a painting — too perfect to be real, her lips slightly parted in serene stillness.

On your right, Sevika snored softly, one arm slung possessively over your waist. Her calloused fingers pressed into your side, anchoring you as if you’d disappear if she let go. Her jawline looked even sharper in the gentle morning glow, a slight frown etched into her features as if she were annoyed by the very concept of “rest.”

Two absolute beauties at your side.

If heaven existed, you had found it.

You tried to shift, but the weight of Sevika’s arm pinned you. You wiggled, but her grip only tightened, pulling you flush against her chest.

“Don’t,” she grumbled, voice thick with sleep. Her eyes didn’t even open. “Stay still, doll.”

Heat rushed to your face at the nickname. You didn’t know if it was endearing or possessive, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

“Let her breathe, Sevika,” Mel murmured, her voice like silk dragging across bare skin. Her eyes remained closed, but her lips curled into a smile. “We wouldn’t want her to suffocate after last night.”

Your heart did a full flip. She knew exactly what she was doing — the smugness in her voice was unmistakable.

“Tch, she’s fine,” Sevika muttered, but she begrudgingly loosened her grip. Her fingers still brushed along your side as if reminding you who had you first.

You sighed in relief, stretching your arms above your head. Your muscles ached in that deliciously earned way. Every movement tugged at the phantom echoes of last night. Memories of hands, mouths, and tangled sheets flashed in your mind, your cheeks growing hotter by the second.

Yeah, that happened.

“Someone’s thinking too hard,” Mel teased, propping herself up on one elbow. She reached out, fingers trailing from your shoulder to your wrist. Her touch was featherlight, deliberate. “Regret something, darling?”

The way she purred that last word was borderline criminal.

You turned your face into the pillow to hide the grin that fought its way to your lips. “No, not even a little...”

“Good answer.” Her nails grazed the back of your neck, sending goosebumps trailing down your spine. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “We don’t like regrets here.”

Sevika snorted, half amused, half awake. “Speak for yourself, princess. I’ve got plenty.”

Mel arched a brow at her. “A list, I’m sure. But I doubt she’s on it.”

Sevika’s gaze finally cracked open. Her steel-gray eyes shifted toward you, sharp and assessing, but there was something softer there too. She grunted, clearly too tired to argue. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Yet?” you gasped, mock-offended. “I thought I was perfect.”

“Perfect is temporary,” Sevika smirked, eyes already closing again. “You’re a mess. But you’re our mess now, so quit whining.”

Your heart thudded hard against your ribcage. The weight of that statement lingered longer than expected, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Careful, Sev,” Mel said, her golden eyes meeting yours with that knowing look she always wore. “Say things like that, and she might think you’re catching feelings.”

Sevika’s response was a sharp, dismissive snort, but the arm around your waist tightened just a little. You felt the contradiction in her. She didn’t say anything more, and that silence spoke louder than any words.

Time slipped away lazily, like honey poured from a spoon. The three of you lingered in bed longer than any of you probably should have. For Mel, mornings were typically scheduled to the second, and Sevika, well, she was usually the first to leave. But this morning was different.

Mel eventually rose with an exaggerated sigh. She tossed the sheets off with an elegance you’d never master, slipping out of bed in one fluid movement. Her silk robe was draped over a chair, and she pulled it around her shoulders, tying it at the waist with a grace that made you feel under-dressed despite being completely naked.

“Breakfast?” she offered, glancing over her shoulder as she walked toward the door. Her gaze lingered on you longer than necessary, her smile slow and knowing. “Or shall I leave you two to… entertain yourselves?”

You felt Sevika shift behind you. Her breath tickled the back of your neck, and her voice was low in your ear. “We could stay here a little longer, baby.” Her lips brushed against the nape of your neck, just enough to make you shiver.

“Don’t start without me,” Mel warned, not even looking back as she exited the room. Her tone was playful, but something about it was also serious. You didn’t doubt for a second that she’d be back sooner than expected.

The door clicked shut.

Sevika huffed a laugh into your hair. “Bossy, isn’t she?”

“The line of Medardas usually are,” you murmured, tilting your head to glance back at her. Her face was barely an inch away from yours, eyes sharp but drowsy, her hair disheveled from sleep.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but you like it.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Her fingers brushed the side of your face, rough but careful, like she was afraid you’d break if she applied too much pressure. You leaned into her touch, letting yourself have the softness of the moment. It wasn’t often Sevika let herself be like this. Her guard was always up, always ready to fight, but here, she was simply here.

Her fingers traced along your jaw, her eyes focused on you with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t before. “Did you mean it?” she asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

“Not regretting it.” Her gaze didn’t waver, and suddenly, you felt like you were standing on the edge of something.

You reached up, placing your hand on top of hers. “I meant it,” you said, and you meant it with your whole chest. “No regrets.”

Something in her face shifted. It wasn’t much, just the tiniest crease in her brow relaxing, but you knew her well enough by now to know what that meant.

“Good,” she said, like that one word was the answer to everything.

Her lips were on yours a second later. Not rough, not rushed — slow, deliberate, like she was taking her time tasting every part of you. Her hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking along your cheek, her warmth seeping into you until you could feel it in your chest.

The kiss deepened, and you gasped against her mouth as she pulled you tighter against her. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a soft whimper that you immediately regretted because—

Click.

The door opened, and Mel’s voice floated in, a touch too amused. “I knew you wouldn’t wait.”

Sevika pulled back just enough to smirk against your lips, her eyes still half-lidded. “Took you long enough, princess.”

“Patience, darling,” Mel replied, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She approached with a tray of fruit, cheese, and bread, the kind of breakfast that looked too pretty to eat. Her eyes met yours, warm and sharp all at once.

“Hungry?” she asked, setting the tray down beside you. Her gaze flickered to Sevika, and her smile curled at the edges. “For food, I mean.”

Your stomach growled in response, and all three of you burst into laughter.

Yeah. No regrets.

A/N: I have seen so much about Melvika that I hard to write something about it (and now I’m wondering if I should do something with Sevika and Ambessa or Sevika, Mel, and Lest with f!reader).

[violetscowgirl]

bed time snack for u little horny freaks ;)

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Soothing Lullaby

|| Mel Medarda x fem!reader

|| Warnings; slight season two spoilers about Mel, injured reader, blood mentions, Mel takes care of reader, brief mentions of death but nobody dies, you decide why reader was in Zaun, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader returns from a trip down to Zaun with an injury, Mel helps her out.

Requests closed!

Started; December 15th

Finished; December 15th

HurtCember2024; Day 11, Caretaking

Author Note; firstly, sorry about how long all my fics have been taking me. I haven't had a writing mindset and I wanted the fics to be good so I haven't been writing. Secondly, thank you for 900 followers!! Love all of you 🫶 I wonder if we can hit 1,000 before the new year?

Also; don't know if Mel's magic can heal, but for the sake of this fic yes she can lmao

~~~

It was late afternoon when you'd stumbled into Mel's room after having gone down to Zaun. Looking for something. Mel, of course, hadn't been aware of your little adventure. So, when she saw you her eyes widened with worry.

"Y/N? What happened to you?" Mel forgot all about the clothes she was previously looking through. There was a party tonight; Mel was looking for an outfit to wear. But now, she was looking at you. More specifically the wound that traveled up your leg. It cut through the fabric of your pants. Stretching from the start of your heel, just above the edge of your shoe line, and twisted up to behind your knee cap. Blood dripping down from the deeper parts of the cut.

"Um... ran into a Zaunite," you explained. Tone a bit sheepish. Mel's eyes narrowed in confusion. A Zaunite? Why were you in Zaun? Or had the Zaunite come to the surface? Her mind buzzed with a million questions. Questions that she would ask once she's helped you.

Mel knelt down, taking your leg into her hands. With her magic, caretaking was a pretty easy thing for her to do. You winced as your leg was moved and Mel looked into your eyes. Her gaze soft, full of nothing but worry and sympathy for you," shh. You're okay," her voice feels like a soothing lullaby. One that makes your shoulders ease the moment it reaches your ears. You gave her a nod.

Her fingers danced along your injury. A light golden glow seeping through the tips of her fingers and into the wound. Closing it with a golden shimmer that marked the line of where it once was. The pain had left you the moment her fingers touched you. Feeling a sense of ease. You had to admit, Mel's magic was a handy little trick. It's helped you lots before.

"Better?" Mel asked, gently letting go of your leg. Allowing you to rest your foot to the floor again. You have your leg a little shake, testing if there was any lingering pain. A smile crossed your lips when there wasn't any.

"Yep! Thank you, Mel," you thanked her. She stood, hands gently caressing your cheeks while she looked into your eyes. Your own eyes locked with hers, those absolutely stunning eyes... you could stare into them all day without getting bored. They were just memorizing.

"You truly need to be more careful. What ever will I do with you, hm?" Mel met your smile with her own. She loved you, but you were always getting yourself into trouble that she had to drag you out of. Honestly you'd probably be dead if not for her. She didn't mind, though. You and your shenanigans were just free entertainment for her.

"Maybe kiss me?" You suggested shamelessly, earning yourself a laugh from your girlfriend.

"Is that all you want? Well, I think we can make that happen," her lips latched to yours. Dancing in soft rhythms. Your arms wrapped around Mel's neck loosely. Bringing her in closer to you.

The kiss lasted as long as it could before Mel's focus was back to your leg, frowning again at the blood that still lingered," let's get you into the shower." You weren't about to argue with that. Perhaps you could convince her to join.

[maxivstappen]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝟏 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

featuring ; max verstappen , lando norris , oscar piastri , charles leclerc , carlos sainz , lewis hamilton , george russel , daniel ricciardo , franco colapinto

🎙️ :: this is nasty and the guys are horny. have fun (this is really smutty pls beware)

SUGGESTIVE !! TEXT MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

🎙️:: reblogs are heavily appreciated as always, thanks for reading !

taglist :: @norrisdriver <3

[scftangl]

Me, getting distracted for a moment in just in smut and now I don't know what position they are in:

[skarpetaspodnapleta]

Oh.. the things we would do..