#on writing w/ mel

[lemongogo]

viktor prev 🤖

[bauliya]

Do you have any Jayvik fic recommendations that don’t hate Mel or minimize her contributions to their scientific ventures?

I’m going to be honest with you all the jayvik fic I read is omegaverse boypussy porn with zero plot because I find a lot of plotty jayvik fics to be very uh… juvenile. so no.

[melanirana]

Got inflicted with da tummy aches.

Damn, I forgot how much that shit hurts and how miserable it make you feel.

[ravens-dagger]

Writing this arcane fic has had the unexpected side-effect of me unironically falling for Jayce oh my god this man is such a sweetie pie. For a long time in my head he was Just A Guy™️

Also this is me saying I'm writing an arcane fic lmao. I looked at those cosmic soulmates and went "what if there was a third?" And now I'm nearly 10k words deep. This is how I cope with Viktor dying I am pathologically avoiding it no thank you what if the mere presence of a third person actually saved them from being destroyed by the acceleration rune? Hm? Did you ever consider that?

[relicsongmel]

Ok enough vague loredumping in tags it's time to properly introduce y'all to my wacky and wonderful crowd of non self-insert OCs (intro to my self-inserts and the basics of my OC canon can be found here).

So let's start with the Anderson sisters, aka Sylvia and Denise's moms!

(reference images made using Picrew and Love Nikki)

Martha Goldwood

Gender: female (she/her)

Orientation: pansexual

Birthday: June 25th

Height: 5'7

Hair color: light blonde

Eye color: green

Color scheme: wide variety but purples, greens, and blues are most common

Ethnicity: Unovan

Interests: Pokemon battling, traveling, skiing, photography, baking, gardening/botany, swimming*, boating

Fashion sense is similar to her daughters'—romantic and feminine but not overly elaborate or impractical. Almost always wears at least 1 clothing garment/accessory that has flowers or floral patterns

Born in Icirrus City to parents Rosemary and Henry Anderson; lived there until leaving to become a Pokemon Trainer in her late teens due to dissatisfaction with her quiet life at home

Met her husband Roger Goldwood (a musician and aspiring composer) while visiting Driftveil City and convinces him to take a journey of his own. The two travel to many regions together and grow quite close as a result

Married Roger at age 26 and moved with him to Nuvema Town; their daughter Sylvia was born when she was 27

When they were both 28 her husband passes away due to drowning in the Abyssal Ruins in search of clues pertaining to the Mythical Pokemon Meloetta. His partner Samurott swims back home from Undella Bay to bring his body to Martha, then passes away from grief a few days after. Martha is quite grief-stricken herself and traumatized to the point that she can no longer bring herself to swim in the sea anymore, but she doesn't want her daughter to grow up fearing the ocean he loved. She continues to take Sylvia to Nuvema's shoreline to swim and go on boating trips as he once dreamed of doing with her, but she keeps Roger's true cause of death hidden from her to shield her daughter from experiencing trauma where her father wanted her to experience joy. Sylvia spends two decades believing her father died when she was very young of a "mysterious illness."

Becomes a florist after her husband's passing after receiving many sympathy flowers from friends/neighbors and gaining an appreciation for how floral arrangements can convey emotion and meaning

Noticed Sylvia's interest in music at an early age and fostered it by signing her up for music lessons, initially piano and singing but this eventually expanded to multiple other instruments. She encouraged her musical development after she noticed how performing onstage helped her daughter become less shy and more confident, and was overjoyed that Roger's "little songbird" inherited his gift.

As Sylvia started to develop burnout from music Martha suggested she take a Pokemon journey for a change of pace, as she once did when she was her age, but not before much deliberation as raising Sylvia was one of her biggest solaces after losing her husband. Even though she expected it, she has to fight to suppress the rising wave of grief when her daughter chooses Oshawott as her first Pokemon.

Personality: introverted as a child/adolescent but grew up to be more ambiverted as an adult, nurturing, secretive, loyal to loved ones to the point of self-detriment

Notable Pokemon: Serperior, Florges

Jennifer Anderson-Hitoki

Gender: female (she/her)

Orientation: bisexual

Birthday: August 9th

Height: 5'5

Hair color: blonde

Eye color: green

Color scheme: mostly pinks, whites, and yellows with occasional oranges and reds

Ethnicity: Unovan

Interests: Pokemon nutrition and hygiene, traveling, hiking, biking, skiing, baking, mythology, teaching

Fashion is practical and upbeat, professional but with a bit of a sporty touch. Shares her daughter's distaste for unneeded flourish unless it's for a deliberate purpose

Born 4 years after Martha and raised in Icirrus City along with her; spent a lot of time at the local Pokemon Fan Club where she fell in love with the art of raising Pokemon. Left home at age 10 to become a professional Pokemon Breeder

Despite some setbacks she was quite successful and traveled the world competing in various events for Pokemon Breeders at the regional, national, and even worldwide level. Her biggest rival was Ryuji Hitoki from Goldenrod City, who outcompeted her every time they met until she finally triumphed over him in a competition known as the Pokemon Breeders' World Cup

Despite their rivalry Jen has a lot of respect for Ryu and vice versa; they fell in love slowly but surely and moved to Ecruteak City after their engagement. Jen was 23 on her wedding day and 25 when her daughter Denise was born

Retained influence in the Pokemon Breeder scene even after leaving the world stage—she opened a store to sell her original blend of Pokemon food and other care products, and does occasional traveling to give seminars to aspiring Trainers/Breeders

Her marriage grew unstable throughout Denise's childhood, initially due to differing opinions on how to raise her/her future (particularly whether she would follow in her parents' footsteps), but the arguments escalated and started to extend to other things as well. Eventually Ryuji had enough and left on another journey without a word, effectively abandoning his wife and daughter. 35 year-old Jen is heartbroken, confused and angry but tries to keep up a cheerful facade for her daughter's sake (and because she blames her temperamental side for driving her husband away). Unfortunately this only serves to infuriate Denise, then 10 years old, because she perceives it as her mother lying to her/denying reality, is biased toward Ryu because he was her primary caregiver and thus she won't blame him (well. not yet at least) and is also too young and hurt to blame herself. Jen spends the next 3 years struggling to navigate a strained relationship with her daughter and the new challenges of single motherhood while desperately trying to manage her own grief.

After giving up hope for Ryu's return she decides to move to Aspertia City to start a new life without him and to be a little closer to her older sister and niece, taking her daughter with her. Denise is once again furious because she sprung this on her without warning and views it as her mother taking her away from her friends/home for her own selfish reasons. Jen initially tries to rectify things but due to repeatedly trying and failing to effectively communicate with her daughter, she instead decides it's best to give Denise the space she needs to adjust and hope she eventually comes around (even if it means she spends 5 years barely leaving her room and basically only leaving the house to go to the library). They only interact when necessary, and when they do it usually ends with Denise getting angry and Jen feeling guilty and doubting her capabilities as a parent. This pattern continues up until Denise leaves on her own journey after turning 18.

After moving to Aspertia City she gets a job teaching at the city's Pokemon Trainers' School. Teaching the young students about Pokemon and helping them grow was a large source of comfort for her in the wake of her rather bleak family situation.

Personality: charmingly extroverted, tenacious, impatient, very blunt about her likes and dislikes

Notable Pokemon: Ninetales, Zebstrika

Random fun facts/lore

Due to Icirrus' City's close proximity to Dragonspiral Tower, a place of great importance in Unovan myth, Martha and Jennifer grew up listening to their parents retelling stories of the legendary Reshiram and Zekrom and the twin heroes that wielded their power; whenever they return to their hometown for holidays/festivals their daughters hear the same tales. As such all four have at least a mild interest in mythology; Jen loved Ecruteak because its reverence for its legendary Pokemon felt familiar to her and the myths surrounding them piqued her interest.

I shorten Jennifer to "Jen" a lot because it's convenient it's the name she asks most people call her; however, Martha and Martha alone has the privilege of calling her little sister "Jenny." Jen calls her older sister "Marthie."

Cedric Juniper was neighbors with Rosemary and Henry, and he was the one who gave the Anderson sisters their starter Pokemon. His daughter Aurea was also very good friends with the girls; Martha and Roger moved to Nuvema partly because it was just after she had established her laboratory there as Unova's new Pokemon Professor (the other reason was that Roger wanted to move somewhere near the ocean so he could have easy access to his father's old boat). Aurea was also the one who suggested to Jen that Denise go on a Pokemon journey to ease her depression and get to know Unova a little better.

Martha met her Florges—then a Flabébé—a few weeks after she started working at Nuvema's flower shop, where she walked to work one day to find a Pokemon she had never seen before admiring the store's outdoor floral displays. The Pokemon came back to visit multiple times before Martha eventually befriended and caught her; she's now her partner who keeps all her flowers vibrant and healthy. Flabébé took a shine to baby Sylvia and grew up alongside her, and it was through their relationship that Martha taught Sylvia how to look after Pokemon. Little Sylvia also loved to visit them at work and often bombarded her mom with questions about plants, which Martha always thought was adorable (though a little distracting).

Sylvia believing Roger died of a "mysterious illness" is actually a holdover from before I had figured out his true cause of death lmao. I wasn't nearly as meticulous with details about the girls' parents as I am now (they're a lot more interesting to me now that I'm older), but I knew I wanted him out of the picture for the Drama™ so I just made up an easy explanation and called it a day haha

Ninetales is Jennifer’s most prized and recognizable Pokemon, and the one that led her to victory in the Pokemon Breeders’ World Cup. She’s known Denise since she was born and has always been very close with her; Denise often stims by running her fingers through Ninetales’ fur. During Denise’s depressive period, Ninetales keeps her company up in her room and comforts her after she has fights with her mom. Jen's design and character is also loosely inspired by Ninetales with the pigtails and her "fiery" temperament.

Out of all the girls' parents Martha in her prime was the strongest Trainer, though Ryuji eventually reaches her level while being a deadbeat training to gain the strength to seek out Legendary Pokemon. She's strong enough to hold her own even against her daughter and niece and would be a strong contender for a Gym Leader if she battled more consistently, but she doesn't have much interest in doing so.

Jen is incredibly lucky that Team Plasma wasn't as prominent when she was a child because she would have been VERY susceptible to their propaganda—she loved Pokemon but used to hate Pokemon battles, as she couldn't stand seeing Pokemon in pain and with their fur all dirty from being repeatedly hit by moves. Even after she had Pokemon of her own, it took her quite a long time to accept that battling can be a source of joy and enrichment for them, and it's her responsibility as a Breeder to engage them with the activities they enjoy in order to raise them to be happy and healthy. She does come around eventually though, and she especially loves seeing a Pokemon's happy smile after winning a match.

Denise was in a very precarious position mental health-wise after her confrontation with Team Plasma (re: almost being frozen to death twice and developing PTSD after the Opelucid City attack), and she spent a few months back home to stabilize a little before resuming her travels. Jen put in a lot of effort to help her get back on her feet; she did lots of searching to help her daughter find a therapist she liked, particularly one who could help her repair her relationship with her Glaceon (who evolved in Opelucid City due to the freezing energy of the indestructible ice and Dena couldn't even look at her without suffering painful flashbacks). Their mother-daughter relationship was starting to heal by this point but Jen called Martha for backup just in case. She visited Aspertia City for a few weeks to help look after her niece while her sister was at work, and was someone Denise could talk to about things she didn't feel comfortable telling her mom yet. They had many conversations about grief, depression, and feeling overshadowed by family members (Jen was more spoiled than her older sister and grew up to be quite successful, while Sylvia was a musical prodigy who became Unova's hero and Denise has mixed feelings on being compared to her so often; she adores Syl but wants to be recognized as her own person rather than "Sylvia's cousin" or someone who reminds people of "that Trainer from two years ago"). Denise was very grateful for Martha's guidance/support and gave her a Shiny Stone as thanks, which is how she was able to evolve her Floette into Florges.

The scenario for how Ryu re-enters Jen and Denise's life keeps getting reworked because his character has evolved a lot over the years and I am an indecisive bitch so idk exactly how he returns, but I can say that Jennifer is rightfully furious with him for how his leaving nearly drove a permanent wedge between her and her daughter, and how much he hurt both of them (especially Denise). Jen wouldn't cut him off completely because Denise, despite her own anger (which is a whole other can of worms but that's another post for another day), just wants to heal her broken family for the sake of the little girl who wanted her dad back, but she would make it quite clear that she wants to file for divorce because she can't love him the same way after what he's done. She'd likely also change her last name back to just "Anderson."

Speaking of things that are a work in progress, sometime post-BW2 arc Martha gets remarried to a woman named Laurel Gropius, who's N's long-lost mother and a new-ish OC of mine (she's also briefly mentioned in what is currently the only fic on my AO3 which can be found here). The funny thing though is that since N is also Sylvia's love interest in my canon, Laurel is technically both her stepmom AND mother in law but don't worry about it (this family tree is far from the weirdest in fiction but it has some pretty funny quirks to it. Like Ghetsis being N's Actual Biological Father due to an incredibly Specific and Convoluted and Altogether Fucked Up Series Of Events but again. Another post)

Currently Jen does not have any other romantic partners after divorcing Ryu in the canon timeline, but in my Paldea AU she has a bit of a Situationship with Raifort. I really really want it to end wholesomely because the idea of Raifort as Denise's stepmom brings me SO much joy but I'm also addicted to the Toxic Yuri of it all soooo. Inconclusive but I do have a little ramble about them here for those interested.

And that's all for now! If you made it this far thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading about The Moms Ever <3333

[ruthiesrambles2]

Sharing clothes: re: the hospitality uniforms.

"Melanie?" Ruth begins, a little out breath.

None of the passengers she had passed on the way to the hospitality office would have seen anything amiss, a pleasant smile on her face and walking, never running, with purpose. The breathlessness the only sign thst Ruth had been rushing.

"What's the emergency? Tristan said-" she stopped as Melanie turned to face her. "Oh."

Melanie's face was serious as Ruth held back a laugh. Melanie's jacket lay discarded on the desk, evidently removed to assess the full damage of the large dark stain on an otherwise crisp white blouse.

"it's not funny, Ruth. This is my last shirt, laundry are days behind with uniforms and I was minding my own business when that - that - boy barrelled into me and sent my coffee flying! The next thing I know he's running out the door talking about how you'll know how to fix it and I -" Melanie let out a frustrated noise, "- I haven't got time for this!"

"Now Melanie, Tristan is a very nice young man and I'm sure he didn't -"

"Ruth!" Melanie gestured wildly at the still wet shirt that was now sticking to the skin below.

"Okay, okay!" Ruth conceded, marching to the drawers at the back of the room. "Let me think. Coffee... We need to blot it as much as we can. Draw out as much liquid as possible... Aha!"

With a triumphant smile she turned back to Melanie, holding out the large stack of napkins she had been searching for.

"The batch we recalled for the W being upside down. I guess we never got them restitched."

Melanie took one of the proffered pieces of cloth and dabbed at the large damp area on her chest.

"Be easier with it on a flat surface," Ruth mused. "And anyway, we'll need to run it under cold water next."

Melanie just stared in response.

"What? It'll be harder to get out if we leave it," Ruth offered.

"What am I supposed to wear in the meantime? I've got that meeting with the catering team about - oh god, and then Lilah Folger is expecting me to discuss LJ's birthday -"

Melanie's speech was rapid, verging into panicked. Ruth had seen her handle many a crisis, and felt a twinge of discomfort watching the unflappable head of hospitality, well, flapping.

"Oh!" she interjected, cutting off Melanie's to do list. "I've got a - hang on -"

Ruth returned to the drawers, pulling open the one marked 'Misc. Supplies' in perfect script.

"I almost forgot this was here. It's probably a bit creased, but it's clean. I stashed one away for - well for this really. Only for me, obviously. It might come up a little big but I'm sure we can tuck it in..."

Now it was Ruth's turn to ramble, but she stopped as she saw Melanie's eyes widen in surprise at the shirt in her hands.

"Ruth, I could kiss you!" she exclaimed.

Ruth barely had time to register the blush rising to her cheeks before it rose again. She swallowed harshly as Melanie began to pull up her coffee stained shirt.

"I-" she spluttered, quickly turning away.

She fiddled with her W pin as she stared at the wall, her own pulse loud in her ears. She must have really been rushing around, she thought. Just not got her breath back...

"Come help me zip?" she heard Melanie ask over the roar of her heartbeat.

She swallowed again.

Slowly turning back, she saw Melanie unsuccessfully reaching for the zipper halfway down her spine, arms contorted. The shirt was a little big, but Ruth couldn't help but think it looked good. Not that Melanie ever looked bad in anything ever but...

Ruth shook herself back out of her head, stepping forwards as Melanie turned her back towards her.

Carefully reaching for the zipper, she pulled it up slowly, careful not to catch any skin.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, only she must have been too close when she did so, as the skin on Melanie's neck rose up in goosebumps.

"Thanks," Melanie said, uncharacteristically softly, as she turned back to Ruth.

Tucking the shirt tightly into her skirt, her eyes flicked up to the clock.

"I've got to go, is there any chance you could -" she gestured to the discarded shirt on the desk.

"I've got it. Don't worry."

Melanie smiled warmly, and Ruth felt that damn blush again. She handed Melanie her jacket.

"I'll swing by the laundry car too, and see if we can't do something about your uniform being expedited," she offered.

"I owe you one, Ruth," Melanie said genuinely, touching her hand to Ruth's arm for just a second.

And then she was out the door, leaving Ruth with the crumpled up shirt, and the blood rushing in her ears again.

[a-so-called-person]

Man I'm gonna miss Piltover and Zaun so much and I'm really scared they ate gonna fumble Noxus

[lemongogo]

is this the part where i say i like jaymel . bc i do

[ivyglow]

It’s been forever, I miss hockeyblr and tumblr in general 🥺

[neomel]

Knuckles is Sonic's inverse in lifestyle and personality. Knuckles is alone, steadfast, isolated and on a one-track mind. Sonic loves making friends, is always on the move, surrounded by community and loves to crack jokes.

Metal is an attempt to replicate WHAT Sonic is without capturing WHO Sonic is; he is, in Sonic CD terms, the "Bad Future" Sonic. He has the same superficial look and powers as Sonic does, yet on every deeper level he's twisted and wrong. What makes Sonic great runs deeper than going fast, being powerful and being blue, and Metal's struggle through Heroes/IDW is failing to recognize the deeper reasons that make Sonic who he is

Shadow is like an amplified version of Sonic's core traits, sharing them on a surface level, yet different to an almost hostile degree in execution. Sonic fights humanity whenever it tries to harm nature; Shadow (in SA2) outright believes ALL of humanity is better off dead. Sonic is inexplicably fast and powerful as a marvel of nature; Shadow was CREATED to be a marvel of nature. Both Sonic and Shadow will do whatever they think is right, but Shadow extends that philosophy to borderline disregard for any other factors; and while both Sonic and Shadow are cocky and confident, they obviously express it in incredibly different ways.

Jet, not mentioned in the post above, is a similar idea to Shadow but on more of a satirical, caricature-type level than of a reimagining. Take everything that defines who Sonic is – Speed, cockiness, freedom, self-driven lifestyle – and imagine making the absolute worst of them. That's Jet; a boastful, prideful thief who does what he wants and gloats about how great he is.

Surge then, finally, is someone who serves as the ideological opposite to Sonic, as opposed to opposite him in personality. The core to Sonic's ideals is that of freedom, both for himself and for others. It means that he will live however he sees fit and believes that anyone else has the right to that freedom; everyone has the right to live, and only if that freedom is used to oppress and hurt others will he act to stop them, yet rarely in a way that would inhibit said freedom. Surge on the other hand is someone who's yet to be capable of being truly free, first working as a tool under the brainwashing control of Dr. Starline who continues to haunt her to date, and then being forced to obey the orders of Clutch during Misadventures/Phantom Riders. She doesn't know what to do with her life, and she believes that those who have hurt her – Dr. Starline, Dr. Eggman and indeed Sonic himself – don't deserve the freedom to keep living either.

TL;DR: They're all twisted versions of Sonic in their own distinctly different ways which the original tweet fails to rly capture imo

[relicsongmel]

Currently crying in the club on a Wednesday afternoon over this journal entry from my mom’s camera roll

[eritvita]

The Orneriness bleeds out again, threaded like gold throughout Roland's entire marrow, and he bids her to gush around his palm if only for a little more; e'en as his cock smears along her thigh, kisses sweetly that damp place where hip meets groin. He lavs dutiful Love with his opened tongue along her throat, releasing her ass to grasp at the back of her head so tenderly; holding her thus.

Art her braids loosened, unkempt, mussed from this tryst of Truest Love. "I hath thee, I hath thee," chants he, mimicking that sudden throb of her sobbing throat. Dost his fingers sweetly remove from her with a precious, sucking sound; that audible crinkle, that fold of wet skin, to draw his skin tight, his naked belly taut, his teeth hungry for her. Doth Roland lowfully hum. "Darling, My Treasured, the Flame of my beating Heart," sings he; reaching betwixt them, taking his cock in his practiced hand.

He teases her, and plays with her: touching the fat, weeping head of his cock along her drawn-tight clit, guiding her wet up and down, making himself beautifully shine, smelling of her.

He breathes raggedly near her temple; watching them, nudging her red cheek with his nose. "Dost thou see us, my Wife? Dost thou see how gloriously our skin kisses? How our red flushes shalt meet each other Forever Onward?" He bids her thighs to rise, woefully releasing her head to grasp at her hip, beneath her gauzy gown onto bare skin; lifting her, aiding this carnivorous slide as he prepares himself and her to sink back Home.

The Fae-Prince is a sight in overripen begging. A new crown of febrile glow to ring a mark around his devoting forehead. He still has new tricks in the pocket firm to his chestplate. Still new ways to wet. She squeezes around the band rubbing her senseless — it is the very token of what they are.

With her pearl pinched, she's a mouth in a halo-grab. All gasps, tilted to the heavens. She'd be fall-off if he weren't holding her upright. As her throat aligns with the sky more and more, her eyes roll into her head, and her lap presses sharper into is.

She tilts in. Feels the outline of him through it all. His cock wets her thigh. Twitches and pokes for entry. She fills with his want. Her hand, that had paused upon her own need engulfing, strokes from the base down to the tip once more before releasing him entirely.

She licks her fingers before combing her them through his hair.

❛ Tip me over and pour into me, sweet Roland. Prends-moi, prends-moi…❜

[deltamel]

i wanna write SO. BAD. but my dissertation is due in 2 weeks 😭😭😭 i absolutely adore my research but i miss writing silly, horny fanfic very much!

[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

[cowboyishbabe]

WAIT.. this supposed to be the last season???????

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 3.6K

Synopsis: Your best friend has invited you to a Piltover Gala. You wouldn't be so worried if the guest list didn't include Ambessa Medarda: the woman you've been seeing secretly for months, and, of course, your best friend's mother...

Content/Warnings: slight divergence from canon (i guess piltover and noxus are cool w each other now), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, reader has hair long enough to pull, jealous!ambessa, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, bondage, spanking, vibrator use, strap use, reader gives ambessa head mhmmm, consent checks bc ambessa is a good dom, mel stop meddling in your best friend's love life challenge failed, jayce stop being sassy challenge failed, sappho exists in this universe bc she exists in every universe I write sorry not sorry

A/N: i just realized that anon asked for the reader's relationship to be exposed and I totally forgot to incorporate that aspect, but i was thinking i might do a little drabble soon of mel's reaction to the reader's relationship with her mom... what do you guys think? anywho... for now, i hope i did this request justice and that you enjoy! based on this ask (thank you anon!)

𝐋𝐨𝐯����, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“This is bad, Jayce.”

You’re staring at yourself in the lighted full-length mirror in Mel’s bedroom-sized closet, hands nervously running up and down the tulle skirt of your dress; one of five that Mel had custom made for you to choose from for tomorrow’s gala.

You should be ecstatic. Who wouldn’t love the chance to dress up in Piltover’s finest garments, playing pretend with the nobles while you gorge yourself on fancy hors d'oeuvres and drown yourself in free champagne with your best friend?  

You would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that on the guest list was Ambessa Medarda: Noxian warrior by day, your secret lover by night. 

Oh, and lest you forget: your best friend’s mother.

“So, so bad…” you mutter, stepping off of the circular podium and plopping down in the velvet chaise beside it. 

“Really? You know, I was gonna say the color really brings out your eyes-”

Jayce is cut off by a mouthful of the gown that you throw at him from across the room.

“Not the dress, Jayce!”

Reading the room was not his forte. 

“Hey, watch it,” he scolds, “this is Noxian silk! Be delicate!”

Case and point. You roll your eyes at him as he fumbles to place the gown back on its hanger. 

“Listen,” he sighs, walking over to where you're sprawled out helplessly on the chaise. He lifts your leaden legs, sits down beside you, and places them on his lap. “It’s going to be fine. Ambessa knows the two of you are keeping things… you know… on the low,”

You cringe at his attempted use of slang. 

“Yeah, I didn’t like that either, didn’t feel natural at all- anyway! Ambessa knows you aren’t ready to tell Mel about the two of you. She’ll keep her distance, you’ll keep yours, and you’ll get to have a fun night with your best friend. Don’t overthink it.” 

You nod slowly, bottom lip between your teeth as you mull over his words. 

“You’re right,” you say with a soft smile. “you’re right. It’ll be fine.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

What you had not accounted for was that Mel had been plotting to set you up with an acquaintance of hers, and she figured, what better night to introduce the two of you than at an event such as this?

“What the hell?” You whisper-scream, pulling Mel into a secluded corner of the beautiful ballroom. 

“What?” She asks, feining innocence; although, she knew entirely well that the reason she’d chosen to give you no notice of this potential suitor was because you would have enthusiastically declined, as you always did. 

“Mel,” you scold, “why did you not tell me I’d have some date entertain? One has to prepare herself for these things!”

“Oh, come on, you make it sound like you’re on babysitting duty. She’s perfectly pleasant! A little bit older- just as you like-” 

Your face heats up,

“And very kind! Brilliant, too; we’re in a book club together and her analysis each week is thoroughly impressive.”

Wariness is still written all over your face.

“Please, Y/n?” Mel pleads, “Just give her tonight. See how it goes. If you don’t click, you never have to see her again.” 

You sigh. It isn’t the clicking you’re worried about; you’re sure she is “perfectly pleasant,” and she is easy on the eyes. You might have even been interested if it weren’t for the woman in red across the room whose eyes were already on you like a hawk. At times, you couldn’t even see that she was staring; you simply felt it. The invisible pull, tantalizing and thick with tension…

And gods, here was her daughter in front of you. You’re nearly mortified at the circumstance.

Nevertheless, you’d need to play it off. If you were too averse to the idea of spending time with this suitor- Clara, was it?- Mel would want to know why, and her prying was relentless. 

“Fine,” you resign with a sigh, “I will entertain her-and you- just this once.”

The woman in front of you squeals in excitement. You feign amusement, but deep down, you know: if Ambessa sees you humoring this woman, you’re screwed.

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“Ah, yes; the poems of Sappho. Some of my favorites,” Clara muses. 

The two of you have taken to discussing your favorite authors and works of literature, unsurprisingly, considering that Mel mentioned meeting Clara at her book club. This was a good topic, you thought. Pleasant enough to stay engaged, but not so engaging that she’d get the chance for her to make any moves. 

Clara moves in closer, lowering her voice to speak to you. 

“Mel mentioned you were a big fan of her work,” she says with a coy smile.

Damn it, you think, I should have stayed away from Sappho!

“She also mentioned that you were very bright, and I must admit,” 

She leans down to whisper into your ear, 

“You’ve got beauty to match your brains.”

“O-oh,” you stutter with an awkward laugh, “Thanks.” 

Clara gives you an amused smirk. She must think she’s flustered you, and not that you’ve just caught sight of Ambessa glaring at her.

“Your drink is empty,” she observes. 

“Oh! Yes... it is.”

“Allow me.” 

Clara takes the empty glass from your hands, sauntering over to the bar and leaving you alone… finally, until,

“How’s it going?”

You jump at the sound of Mel’s voice in your ear from behind you.

“Gods, Mel! You scared me!”

“Oh, pfft. I didn’t mean to; but tell me! Are the two of you getting on alright?”

You give her a shrug and a half-hearted smile. 

“We both like Sappho…”

“Wonderful! I knew the two of you would have so much in common, I simply-”

The rest of Mel’s match-maker ramble fades to white noise when suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you see Ambessa approaching. 

“...and the two of you- are you listening?!”

Your wide eyes snap back to her. “Sorry! It’s just-”

Her gaze follows yours, and her eyes land on her mother.

“Gods, Y/n. She isn’t that intimidating, you know.”

“Right,” you exhale. 

Right. Intimidated of the renowned Noxian warrior in front of you. That’s what you were. Not terrified of her daughter finding out you were sleeping with her, not bewildered at the fact that you’re sleeping with her in the first place, and certainly not a little turned on by the glare she just gave you…

“Enjoying the party, mother?” Mel greets.

“Only as much as I typically enjoy these sorts of events, dear,” she sighs, adjusting the ornate gold jewelry circling her bicep in a practiced movement. 

“You’re bored out of your mind and ready to go home to your library,” Mel deadpans.

“Precisely.”

You let out a chuckle at the interaction. Ambessa’s attention is back on you.

“How are you, Y/n?”

You short circuit for a moment, not expecting her to address you directly. 

“Oh! I- I’m fine. Same as you. Ready to curl up with a good book.”

Her gaze softens for a moment. She knows how much you love to read; you’ve spent hours upon hours tackling her personal collection. 

Mel sighs with a roll of her eyes. “She’s not enjoying her company.” 

You glare at Mel, cursing her mouthiness.

“I try so hard to set her up people- who I believe are perfectly good matches, by the way- but she’s quite picky, this one.” 

Ambessa knows this, too.

You let out an incredulous scoff. 

“Mel!” 

Ambessa smiles again. This time, there’s something else to it. Something mischievous… calculated. 

“Not to worry, dear,” she begins, looking at you, “there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

You’re glad you aren’t nursing champagne at the moment, or you might have choked on it. 

“Oh! There’s Jayce,” Mel excitedly begins, sights set on the double doors at the front of the room. “I’ll be back in a moment. Mother, do try not to scare my guest.”

You watch in poorly concealed horror as Mel prances off, leaving you along with Ambessa. 

When you finally dare to look at her, she’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes and a set jaw. 

“So-”

She cuts you off with a hum. 

You sigh, eyebrows furrowing as you begin to plead with her. 

“Ambessa, I can explain,”

“No need.” 

Your stomach drops. She’s pissed, and there’s not shit you can do about it. 

She walks forward, leaning down to whisper in your ear just as Clara had moments ago. 

“Tonight, half-past 10. My quarters.”

With that, she walks away, shoulder brushing yours as she leaves to stand there with you face running pale. 

Your eyes are trained on the flickering candles adorning the table in front of you as you imagine what she has planned, what she might say to you, what she might do to you-

“Your champagne, miss.”

Clara interrupts your train of thought with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

You turn to her, forcing a smile. 

“Might we get something stronger?”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’s 10:29 when you arrive at the intricately carved wooden door to Ambessa’s room. She was already upset; you wouldn't dare have her wait on top of it.  

You raise your hand to knock on the solid wood, hand pausing in the air. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and leave a soft knock on the door.

It opens in an instant, Ambessa peering down at you with an icy glint in her eyes. 

She takes a deep breath of her own, gaze unyielding as she cocks her head to the side, motioning towards the room behind her and stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you step over the threshold, the door slams behind you, and you, into it.

Ambessa’s hold is firm on your hips, pressing you into the door. 

“Have fun tonight, darling?”

Her breath fans your face. You look up at her with wide eyes and racing heart. 

“It was… fine,” you whisper, breath shaky. 

She pulls her head back with an cocked brow. 

“Shared a few drinks with her, hm?” 

“It was just… courtesy.” 

Her hands drop from your waist, and she walks away with a scoff and a crooked smile.

“A flute of champagne is courtesy. Liquor denotes something else entirely.” 

Your shoulders sag in defeat. “I just-” 

you sigh, 

“I just wanted to take the edge off a bit. You made me nervous.” 

She smirks. 

“Aw,” she croons, strolling back over to you. She stops in front of you, lifting your chin with her forefinger and thumb and demanding your eyes meet hers. 

“I make you nervous?” 

Your eyes flick down to her soft lips, then back up to her eyes. 

“You know you make me nervous.”

You dare to raise a brow at her.

“You like it.” 

Her smirk drops. 

“You've been playing with fire tonight, dear.”

Her hand moves to hold the back of your neck, and she pulls you in until your lips barely touch hers.

“I don't want to hear you complain that you got burned.”

Her lips slam into yours. You gasp when the hand on the back of your head weaves into your hair and tugs; she uses the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. 

Ambessa does everything with intent-with purpose- kisses included. There was no such thing as a haste peck on the lips, a fleeting kiss on the forehead; each and every touch she delivered to you said something.

Tonight, her touch says, “You're mine. No one else’s.”

She finally pulls away, leaving you breathless under her composed gaze. The corner of her lips pull up into a smirk. She always got a kick out of this; slowly unraveling you while she remained entirely unphased. 

You should feel embarrassed. You love it. 

“On the bed,” she commands, releasing her grip on your hair, “and strip- that’s Noxian silk. We can't have you ruining it.” 

You can't help but chuckle- remembering Jayce’s own comment about the luxurious material- as you lean down to take your heels off. Normally, she'd do this for you; kneeling down to undo the tiny buckle on the straps of your heels before sliding them off of your feet, moving up to pull the zipper of dress down while planting a kiss on your shoulder, asking you to give her twirl when you're finally left barren except for the delicate lingerie she would have gifted you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you won't be allowed the luxury of her delicateness.

Goosebumps appear on your skin as you make your way to the bed, knowing you're in for one hell of a ride. Ambessa could be so gentle with you, but she could be equally as rough and unforgiving, and as she pulls a vibrator out from the drawer next to her bed, you know you're about to find out just how unforgiving she can be. 

“A-Ambessa…” you stutter, crawling back against the pillows against the headboard. 

She didn't usually start with a vibrator. She knew the immediate intensity of its stimulation was often too much to begin with, so she'd spend her time working you up before she thought about retrieving it. 

She didn't give a damn about that tonight. 

“What's the matter, dear? Regretting your bad behavior already?” 

“Ambessa, it really wasn't what you-” 

“Truthfully,” she cuts you off with a glare, “I don't really care to hear any excuses.” 

She places the vibrator next to you. She's also gathered a few restraints: two to tie your hands to the headboard, and two to tie your ankles to the footboard. 

“You know that I've never been fond of sharing my possessions, dear,” she begins, tying your first hand to a rung. “Surely, this isn't news to you.” 

She restrains the other, then moves down to restrain your feet.

You're starfished on the soft comforter now, rendered completely helpless and at her disposal. 

Just as she wanted you.

She climbs onto the bed, running a hand up your leg. 

“Surely, you knew what would happen if you decided to test me as you did,” she muses.

She runs a finger through the slick that's already begun to collect in between your legs. A shiver courses through you again.

“Or was this your plan all along? Hm?”

Her hand trails up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts, and stops around your throat. She leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You wanted to be fucked like a common whore tonight, didn't you?” 

You don’t have time to respond before she turns on the vibrator, pressing it to the swollen bud of nerves at your center. You yelp as your body betrays you, hips bucking up into the already overstimulating sensation.

“Shit, Bessa, ‘m sorry,” you cry out, looking up at her with pleasing eyes. 

Of course, her only response is a maniacal laugh. 

“Begging for me to go easy on you already? My darling,” she croons, leaning down to place a kiss on your jaw, “we’ve only just begun.”

She turns the vibrator up to the next setting. Tears have already begun to prick your eyes. 

Yeah. You were screwed alright. Royally screwed. 

As soon as your hips stop spasming on the the vibrator placed at your core- as soon as you start to catch your breath- she turns up the intensity, until she’s tortured you through all of its seven settings. She doesn’t bother letting up after you come, just watches you pull and flail against your restraints as your pussy clenches around nothing.

The line between needing her inside of you and needing her to stop all together is starting to blur like your teary vision. Your breath comes out in fast pants, eyebrows furrowed as the pleasure bleeds into pain. 

Her commanding voice pulls you out of your daze.

“Color?” 

When you don’t respond quickly enough- too busy trying to come back to earth just long enough to find your words- she pulls the toy away. 

As unrelenting as she could be, Ambessa was never cruel with you; she’d never cross a line or cause harm to you. 

Her hand comes to rest on your cheek, wiping away stray tears as your breath begins to even.

“Green,” you finally exhale with a crooked smile.

She gives you a smirk of her own. “Dirty girl.”

She reaches up to loosen the restraints on your wrists, fingers tracing the delicate skin to be sure it isn’t too irritated. She moves down to your ankles to do the same, but you’re too tired to change your positions, limbs still splayed out for her. 

“Have I tired you, dear?” She coos. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, hand finally coming down to brush a stray hair from your face. Your eyes flutter closed, the world around you becoming fuzzy. You hear the faint sound of her drawer opening and closing- she’s putting the restraints away, you presume- before the weight of her knees on either side of your hips presses into to mattress. 

“You’ve done so good,” she praises, pressing kisses to your face. The touch is a stark contrast to the hands that suddenly grip your sides, flipping you to lay on your stomach. Your eyes fly open, and roll right back into your head when she grabs a handful of your hair, yanking you flush against her chest. Your hands reach out to the headboard, stabilizing you as she delivers a smack to the swell of your ass.

“It’s such a shame when good girls misbehave.”

You hadn’t realized all the rummaging she’d been doing was her putting the strap on, until you feel the dull head of the silicone press against your entrance. 

You hiss, still all too sensitive from your first punishment.

“Ambessa, I c-”

“Do not tell me that isn’t exactly what you anticipated when you decided to thow yourself onto another woman while I was a mere 30 feet away.”

You don’t respond. You knew better than to lie. 

“Color,” she demands.

“Green,” you whine. 

She presses your head into the pillow below you, and your hips arch up into her own. She guides the toy into your sopping walls, slow and careful to be sure you adjust to her length.

The pace she sets is anything but. Both hands find your hips as her own snap into you. She pulls you back to meet each thrust, the tip of her cock brushing your cervix each time.

You're a babbling, drooling mess underneath her. 

“B-Bessa… ‘s so deep… fuck, you're deep…”

A hand moves up to splay across your back, deepening your arch so that she can fuck into you further.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, a headboard slamming into the wall, your moans and mewls, her grunts and groans. She had no shame in claiming what was hers. 

She leans over, heavy breaths fanning your ear. 

“Remind me who you belong to.”

Your eyes roll back in your head again, pussy clenching around her in response to the question. She delivers another slap to your ass. 

“Speak when you are spoken to, girl.”

“Y-you!” you finally cry out. “I belong to you, I’m yours, ‘m all yours…”

She pulls back with a chuckle before pulling out of you, ripping the harness off of her waist and thighs. She crawls beside you, laying on back with her arms behind her head on the plush pillows. 

“You know what to do. Put that pretty mouth to good use.”

You scramble to place yourself in between her legs and bury yourself into her sweet musk. Your tongue darts out to draw slow circles on her clit, nose resting on the mound of curls adorning her. 

Her scent is intoxicating, her taste is ambrosia; you moan into her, and she moans back, hand flying to your head to keep you in place. 

“Your fingers,” she instructs, and you slip into her, meeting no resistance. You lap at her eagerly, fingers pumping in and out in tandem with the flick of your tongue on her clit. It isn't long before her burly thighs tighten around your head, and her release coats your chin. 

You pull away once she relaxes, staring down starry-eyed at the mess she's made. 

“Have some decorum,” she scolds; but when your eyes snap up to her face, she sports that lazy grin you can't get enough of. 

She beckons you to sit in between her legs, and you happily oblige with a chuckle. You lean against her strong chest, and she leans down to press a kiss against your temple. A comfortable silence settles over the room as her fingers trace up and down your arm. 

“I'm aware that you had no true interest in that woman,” she says softly. 

You hum in amusement.

“I’m also aware,” she continues, “That if you had been interested, it'd be none of my concern.”

You crane your head up to give her a confused look.

She shrugs. “You haven't been made mine. Not officially.”

You pause for a moment, reading her expression. If the longing you think you see in her eyes is really there, then it's about time you two had this conversation. 

“I want to be yours,” you whisper. “If you'll have me.”

“Don't be ridiculous,”

and your heart drops, until, 

“Of course, I'll have you. It'd be an honor to call you mine.” 

A wide smile stretches across your face, and her large hand cups your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss, tender and loving.

You pull away, lips still gracing her own. 

“We’ll have to tell Mel…” you dare to whisper.

She scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes before her lips begin to trail down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. She plants a hand on your thigh, grabbing at the plush before snaking it toward your heat. 

“Let me give you one more before we think about that.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Taglist: @kierancaust, @langedelalune, @vii-v, @genderfluidlesbain999, @sevikasrightboob, @leone007, @femliyah, @tojisbestslut, @vyvvycg