▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]
If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!
Jayce:
- It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm
- But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different
- When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions
- It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look
- And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day
- It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts
- Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second
Viktor:
- For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one
- He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway
- That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet
- What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer
- The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you
- And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body
- Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them
- For the nights when he feels lonelier
Ekko:
- Communism
- There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore
- The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it
- But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes
- Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket
- It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it
- And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you
Vander:
- Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you
- When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by
- And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin
- “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else
- After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift
Silco:
- Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places
- Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them
- The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it
- Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his
- That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you
- But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe
- “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump
Jinx:
- Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare
- She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean
- It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it
- It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it
- Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable
Vi:
- Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed
- Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it
- That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month
- The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you
- When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt
- She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to
- But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others
- That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life
Caitlyn:
- Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need
- And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen
- So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform
- Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you
- It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you
- The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers
- There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often
Mel:
- For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you
- “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked
- It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body
- It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something
- But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless
- When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her
- And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects
- Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare
- Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had
Sevika:
- Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous
- But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders
- And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers
- It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do
- And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours
- But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it
- In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously
- And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable
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YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!
A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.
Powder/Jinx
“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”
Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.
Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.
Violet “Vi”
“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”
Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.
Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.
Ekko
“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”
Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.
Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night…
Caitlyn Kiramman
“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”
Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.
She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.
Viktor
“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”
At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.
He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.
Jayce Talis
“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”
Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.
Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.
Mel Medarda
“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”
Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.
Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.
Sevika
“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”
Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…
But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.
If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
♱ dom, sub, or switch? ft. sevika, vi, jinx, caitlyn, mel, ellie, and abby. ♱
syp. headcanons on whether they would dom, sub, or switch + how they’d do it.
cw: nsfw content!!, degradation, praise, dirty talk, teasing, mocking, dumbification, cursing (obv), daddy/mommy kink, mentions of tying up/gagging, strap-on sex, fingering, cunnilingus, handcuffs, slapping, spanking, pet names (baby, babe, doll, hon, toots, darling, pretty girl, etc.), mentions of soft sex/morning sex, breeding kink, possessive behavior, punishments, hair-pulling, tribbing, mentions of gunplay/knifeplay, just rough and nasty shit!! (+ more...)
disclaimer: this is just my opinion! (and maybe self-indulgent)
sevika: a mean service dom!! (subs very rarely)
♱ she loves to tease/mock/make fun of you during sex! it’s all love though, she knows you enjoy it.
♱ ex. of her teasing/mocking you: "you sound like a fuckin' porn star when you moan like that..." + "fuck, doll. you're suckin' me in that needy pussy. don't need any lube when you're already dripping all over the fuckin' sheets you slut."
♱ dirty talks you as though you’re just a slut that she’s using for her pleasure but her actions are the complete opposite of that! she thoroughly enjoys making you feel good in the way you want to!
♱ brat tamer! sevika will bend that ass over TRUST.
♱ if you like praise, she’s in your ear like, “yeah, baby. you like that shit, huh? makin’ those pretty noises for me.” + “love touchin’ on this wet fuckin’ pussy.”
♱ if you like degradation, she goes crazy. teasing you and belittling you makes her cunt throb, “look at you. you like getting fucked like a whore? fuckin’ pathetic.” + “jus’ wanna get fucked dumb, don’t you? brain gets real empty when you’re full of dick.”
♱ i’ve said this before but she prefers giving over receiving and being the one to make you fall apart. although she won’t deny you giving her pleasure as well, she just doesn’t prefer it.
♱ sevika likes strapping! no, she LOVES strapping. it makes her feel masculine in all the best ways and anything that makes you feel good, she LOVES!
♱ has a thing for titles during sex! or just you saying her name! do with that information what you will...
♱ if she were to sub, she’d lowkey be embarrassed and quiet compared to her talkative nature when she doms (lol).
…
vi: a switch with a SLIGHT preference for domming.
(soft service dom + obedient service(y) sub)
♱ vi has some similarities in the way sevika doms but vi is definitely less mean and prefers to praise you and lowkey baby you (unless you want to be degraded!) she just wants you to feel good + will do anything to achieve that.
♱ she likes using the strap but prefers to use her hands and mouth to make you cum. she loves seeing you cream, gush, & squirt up close.
♱ she NEEDS to see how good she makes you feel and will even ask/beg you to tell her, “c’mon baby, tell daddy how good she’s making you feel? need to hear you, sweetheart.” + “lemme hear you, please.”
♱ + yes!! she likes being called daddy (idc!!) but in a submissive context as well as when she doms. she loves it when you’re mocking her while you fuck her like, “aww. am i making daddy feel good?” and she’s like “fuck yeah, babe. gonna make me fuckin' cum.”
♱ vi likes her wrists cuffed and mouth tied when she’s getting fucked into the mattress + she loves the strap being used on her!!
♱ she just wants to be good for you! praise her! tell her she’s doing good!
♱ vi enjoys letting you stuff her face in your cunt and she likes it when you use her for your pleasure + also enjoys when you pin her down so she has no choice but to let you give her the sloppiest, messiest head imaginable, “oh fuck!! s-shit fuuuuck. right t-there”
♱ tribbing/scissoring with her is like pure heaven! nobody’s even subbing or domming in those moments, just pure desire, need. the feeling of your cunt on hers, the filthy wet noises, and your face make her cum so fast.
♱ chronic lover-girl through and through!! she’s always telling you how much she loves you when she’s in it (or when you’re in it), “love you so much, so perfect f’me, baby.” + “love you! feels s-so good”
…
jinx: a switch with a preference for subbing.
(bratty sub + playful mean-ish dom)
♱ jinx is the type to be sassy/bratty during sex whether she's domming or subbing! she's definitely always pulling your hips/hands towards her so you can fuck her deeper and she's so mean about it, "ughhh, toots, deeper! moreee!! you're not fucking me hard enough!"
♱ she always has that needy 'fuck me' look on her face--eyebrows furrowed and eyes glossed over as she bites her lower lip and tries to seduce you into doing whatever she wants. it works too.
♱ she gets carried away with the dirty talk. i mean CARRIED AWAY, "d'ya like the way my pussy feels against yours, baby? how wet 'n creamy i am? 'm all riled up for you, hon." + "wanna fuck ya next, make you gush all over 'n mess shit up!"
♱ wants to be put in her place deep down...
♱ jinx also loves soft sex; the feeling of you gently pinning her legs in the air when you both wake up in the morning and making out with her cunt + she's a head pusher LOL! as kinky as she is, it's your softness and willingness to please her that makes her truly feel good.
♱ a feen for sloppy sex. she loves it all and she's not afraid to get her hands dirty if it means she gets to get off and have fun! she'll have your fingers all pruned up and your mouth dripping wet by the time she's done with you.
♱ she likes to be marked up and claimed + will also mark you up so everybody knows you're hers.
♱ gunplay/knifeplay enthusiast.
♱ jinx loves it when you tell her how perfect 'n pretty she is when she's subbing... when she's domming, however... she's real mean!
♱ sits on your face and holds your head where her cunt is, "keep lickin', sweetness, don't stop until i cum! or else i'll have to hurt cha!"
...
caitlyn: a switch with no preference.
(soft-ish mommy dom + soft/obedient sub)
♱ caitlyn gives mommy dom because she definitely has specific rules for when you can touch yourself (if you're even allowed to) and she's big on manners and politeness. she wants you to be the best girl you can be and will reward you for doing so.
♱ she likes it when you call her mommy in and out of bed, only in private though.
♱ her definition of a 'reward' is plunging her long, thin fingers into your tight wet cunt as she rests her back against the headboard. your upper back is mirroring hers as it rests against her stomach and your lower back pressed plush up against her clothed pussy, "fuck, darling. you're such a little minx, being so good lately. you knew mommy would do this to you, didn't you?" + "good girl. you deserve this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers reach inside you, as deep as they can go.
♱ the type of dom to pick your clothes, shoes, and make-up out for you before special events; especially at fancy dinners and 'n rich piltover people shit. she wants everyone to see that you're hers; that she's got yet another thing for others to be jealous of.
♱ she hates to have to punish you! but she will! let's say you copped an attitude or got needy at one of those important fancy events... that soft mommy dom role that you know and love would come crashing down so fast. rather than comforting whispers of "good girl" near your ears, you hear "you've been such a bad girl. i've got to punish you now, love, i'm sorry." + "but, hey... it'll be over soon. maybe next time you'll think about being such a misbehaving little whore.”
♱ as punishment, she puts her strap on you and forces you to watch her ass jiggle and thighs shake as she bounces on the faux cock in reverse cowgirl. if you even think about touching her, you're in for it.
♱ queen of spanking your ass and rubbing a soothing hand over it when she's done, profusely apologizing for causing you pain. but she had to do it! or else you'd never learn.
♱ when she subs for you, she's so loud. not talkative, but loud. her moans echo through her private chambers as you pleasure her.
♱ your name is on repeat when she subs!! she's always saying it.
♱ she likes when you pull her ponytail and slap her ass when you hit it from the back, she's verbal then-- always urging you to "mmm, pull harder, yes!! like t-that..." + "s-shit, please make me cum, p-please."
...
mel: a controlling/power bottom sub.
♱ mel is the type of sub who has dom energy but channels that into being the most pleasure-seeking power bottom sub ever!! that doesn't mean she doesn't care about your pleasure, but she prefers receiving compared to giving when engaging in sex with you.
♱ she loves to grab at your ass when you're strapping her in missionary to force you to fuck into her deeper, harder, and faster, "more. give me more." + "are you going to fuck me? or slack off the entire time?"
♱ bratty asf!
♱ when you finally do put her in her place, she's speechless. you have her in doggy style, forcing her back into a painful arch as you manhandle her hips up and down on your strap--you unmoving as her warm walls slide smoothly along the thick ridges of the plastic dick. her eyes roll to the back of her head as her mouth forms a perfect O shape, "uh-uh-uhng fuck! mmph!" + "yes! yes! yes! f-fuck!"
♱ when you're eating her out, she's much like jinx, tangling her hands in your hair while grinding her messy cunt along your mouth.
♱ wants to be filled up. (chronic breeding kink)
♱ to add to that, mel ikes to roleplay as if she's forcing you to cum inside her, wrapping her legs around your waist, strong grip trapping you. her voice is dripping with desire, a need to be claimed--taken, "yes, my sweet. cum inside me. don't you fucking pull out."
♱ the times when she does touch you, she's looking deep into your eyes as she does so, needing to see the way she affects you.
♱ tribbing princess! she twerks her ass on your cunt like she's made for it, "yes, honey, i looove that... fucking cunt's so wet f'you, love."
♱ i have an inkling that mel likes being punished... she craves someone who will force her to take responsibility and accountability.
...
abby: a MEAN ass hard dom. just plain mean.
♱ abby is EVIL. like the meanest on this list. she FUCKS. HARD.
♱ she doesn't like subbing, i fear! she likes receiving but not subbing.
♱ if you thought sevika was mean, you've got another thing coming if you don't think abby is much worse. the way she taunts and borderline bullies you when she fucks you is criminal (criminally hot).
♱ ex. of "taunts and borderline bullies you": "take it. take this shit. why you runnin', huh? you were beggin' me to fuck this fuckin' cunt just a second ago, right, slut? so you'd better suck it up and just take it." + "yeeeahh, you nasty little whore. takin' daddy's dick sooo well, babe." + "mm, fuck!! you need this dick. you need this fuckin' shit."
♱ daddy is what she wants to be called. plain and simple. if you slip up and accidentally call her abby when she's in it, she's pressing herself deeper inside of you, thrusting in you painfully, "what did you say, bitch? what did you fuckin' say?!" + "not my name, baby. 's daddy to you. daddy's the one who makes this pussy gush."
♱ will fuck you in front of a mirror and force you to keep eye contact with her regardless of whether it's her cock or her fingers drilling your hole.
♱ eye contact is important for her, she's slapping you across the face if you divert your eyes away from her own after she specifically ordered you not to, "the fuck?! told you to look at me, princess. look at me when i'm fucking you, kay?"
♱ slaps you! chokes you! gags you! ties you up!
♱ her tough facade slightly cracks when she gets lost in the way you're rolling your hips in a circle, clit rubbing against hers, "s-shit's gonna make me nut, baby." + "fuuuck! that pussy's perfect, babe."
♱ yes, she says "nut" when talking about cumming unironically. sue me.
♱ the thought of breeding you, getting you pregnant has her FERAL. the first time she heard you mutter a quiet "cum in me, daddy." had her hips stuttering for a second, eyes flashing with feelings of an almost primal instinct. the only thought that was running through her mind at that moment was ‘breed. breed. breed’, "f-fuckin' hell, angel. do you want daddy to cum in you? put a baby inside you?" + "wanna get you fuckin' pregnant. gonna fuck you until my cum is spilling out."
♱ CEO of daddy kink and rough, nasty sex.
...
ellie: a switch with an unknown(?) preference.
(playful/chill dom + shy sub)
♱ ellie is a bit more laid back/chill when it comes to domming! she's not super big on punishments and rules and all that jazz (unless you asked her to be) and she enjoys you willingly submitting to her without having to do too much.
♱ an enjoyer of fun, and sometimes silly sex.
♱ she loves to talk to you and embarrass you a little bit! if you're noisy or audibly wet, you're not hearing the end of it from her, "daaamn, babe. you hear that? you hear that, huh? 's me making that pussy wet." + "you're so loud, baby, you like puttin' on a show, yeah?"
♱ (s)trap queen! she enjoys using it and having it used on her!
♱ she won't degrade you as much but she occasionally mixes it in with her usual praise, "fuck, pretty girl. you really are a slut but... just for me though, hmm?" + "you look so beautiful all exposed for me."
♱ ellie can get possessive when she's in it. she's always using "me" and "mine" to verbalize her claim on you.
♱ the best at fingering on this list...
♱ her favorite way to be dominated by you is when you flip her over and fuck her from the back. it's such a pretty sight; her bent over with her back arched fucking back on you while you pin her down, forcing her to just, take it.
♱ ellie likes it when you use her own words against her (from when she was dominant) and throw it in her face, "you hear that, ellie? you hear that little pussy getting wet for me, huh?" + "you're so loud, ellie. gonna wake up our neighbors."
♱ wants her ass slapped raw.
♱ she goes "uugh, uh, uh, ungnh, f-fuuck!!" when you fuck her. she gets very overwhelmed with how good she's feeling and blacks out.
arcane characters as sugar mommies/daddies ˚₊‧꒰ა $ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
been thinking about mel as a sugar mommy and decided to spread the joy to other characters >:)
haven’t proofread but i was obsessed with the idea and needed to get my thoughts out, hope you enjoy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
part 2.5
cw: don’t think gender is specified but i had a fem reader in mind so that might show, smut, degrading language used in a consensual manner, minors dni, 18+ only
Vi
the alluring one
you’re trying to buy a round of drinks when your card declines and just as you’re about to die from embarrassment, her warm hand settles on your shoulder as her scarred lip smirks down at you
she pays for multiple rounds of drinks and before you know it, you’re making out in the alleyway
the rest is history
you never thought you’d be in an arrangement like this but she had her ways of convincing you otherwise
has a bunch of different girls on her roster that she maybeeee doesn’t tell you about
don’t worry, you’re the only sugar baby she pays this much for
when you find out you can’t even be that mad about it - she’s so hot you’d let her get away with anything
you’re smart enough to be pouty around her and take advantage of the situation - get ready for the greatest apology of your life
she invites you to her place just for you to find thousands of roses in the foyer and a gift box with your name on the table
she has you follow a trail of clues until you end up in her bedroom, still juggling an armful of gifts, where vi is waiting for you with a hopeful look
she rushes over to take the boxes from you and smothers your face in feather light kisses before apologising for making you feel shitty
her apology doesn’t stop there though and carries on well into the night
you complain about your bus being late? she’s already sent an uber black to your location
you don’t know which gaming console you want? she’s got it covered - multiple packages with every console you mentioned are arriving by the next day
you’re at a party but you’re feeling needy? she’s already dragging you to a storage cupboard, crowd be damned, and eating you out with such fervour you think you might see heaven
pays for your gym membership at a place like equinox and makes sure you two take full advantage of the sauna - it might be warm in there, but you come out sweaty for a whole other reason
has a garage full of vintage motorbikes that cost a fortune and only she can touch
pays you your days salary (and then some) so you can take time off work just so you can visit her at her home gym
she uses you to show off her impressive strength by lifting you as if you weigh nothing in her arms
getting used as her personal gym equipment is a major turn on
lives to impress you with her physique, she gets so pleased with herself when she notices your eyes darken as they wander over her toned body
she definitely has mirror ceilings and she definitely makes you stare at yourself as she fucks you stupid underneath them
Jinx
the mischevious one
she’s the rich artsy kind and you’re her muse
this means she needs you around 24/7 in case creativity strikes her - naturally, this leads to her paying for your company
has you come over to the studio all the time
one time, she set down a canvas on the floor, told you to strip, covered you two in paint and fucked you right there and then
the rolling around, teeth bared, guttural moan, primal kind of fucking; she relished in the bruises that bloomed on your neck and chest as she sucked on your most sensitive spots
the resulting painting was quite impressive to look at, even if thinking about its creation made you more flustered than you’ve ever been
her hands aren’t only good for creating art pieces it seems
she’s one of the sugar mommy’s that pays you the most since she views your company as priceless when it comes to her work
you get anything you ask for, seriously
you’re decked head to toe and all of it is something jinx either gifted you or gave you the money to buy
if it’s something not available to buy, she buys luxurious materials that cost more than your salary just to craft it for you
takes you to the kind of stiff, fancy places she hates just to have you wear vibrating underwear which she has the controls for
sometimes it’s even the opening night of her art gallery
she makes it a challenge: how long can you go without drawing attention to yourself due to your moans - the longer, the more money you get
it’s downright obscene, the way she knowingly glances at you with subdued glee , your slight whimpers echoing as you try your best to muffle the sounds, tears welling up in your eyes
she goes back to chatting up art collectors and investors as she secretly turns up the power of the vibrations hitting you right to the core
she calls you her “sweet thing” when you get back to her penthouse and she makes it up to you by giving you her bank card
she likes to make you laugh during sex too, she doesn’t like if you try to make it too “dour”
Caitlyn
the inexperienced one
cait’s been single for a while and it’s obvious it’s taking its toll
her friends encourage her to go out and meet someone new but she’s too focused on work to waste time on someone she probably won’t like
one day she stumbles upon a sugar baby site and says fuck it
the first date is pretty awkward but after a couple drinks, you manage to loosen her up so she’s more free with you
she has no clue what her role in this kind of arrangement is so she goes all out from the get-go; she loves spending money on you to the point it’s a bit insane even if she tells you not to worry
has to ask her friends for advice on the group chat constantly (she has a history of fumbling attractive people and she’s not letting it happen again)
adds you to her country club membership so you two can play tennis on the weekends
this place is fancyyyyyy but she makes sure you feel comfortable
gets you a instructor if you don’t know how to play
this obviously means she buys you about ten different outfits with tennis bracelets to match each
buys you a penthouse in the best part of town, close to where she lives of course so she has easy access to you
you two christen every single room in your new place, no stone left unturned
scissoring in the large bedroom, head on the lavish kitchen countertops, taking turns fucking with the strap on the balcony with a breathtaking view, fingering in the living room - everything and anything you can think of
her job isn’t done until the two of you are exhausted and wailing loud enough that the neighbours 20 floors down are complaining
she is insatiable when it comes to you, it’s like you lit a fire within her that she can’t put out no matter how hard she tries
completely adores how cute you act when you try to deny her pricey gifts
even more so when she gifts you a first edition book and your demeanour turns more panicked by the second
really though, she’s freaking out more than you are although she doesn’t show it often
her biggest fear is gifting you something you hate which leads to you ending everything
you’ve never had a sugar mommy treat you like this
she gives her assistant special instructions to let you into her office at any time, a privilege only you’re blessed with
you manage to distract her and before she knows it, she’s forced to make herself look presentable in only five minutes despite having a smudge-proof lipstick mark on her cheek she can’t get off for the life of her
doesn’t want to admit that she wants more than a purely transactional relationship with you
Silco
the generous one
gives you an exorbitant amount of money every time you see him
like, a CRAZY amount
it barely registers for him though, he has more money than should be possible
he goes as far as to give you his black card even if you didn’t ask for it
goads you to max it out and somehow, despite spending so much, you’ve barely dented the thing which makes him laugh
he expects you to spend most of the money he gives you on luxuries you wouldn’t normal buy and asks you to do a haul and model it all for him in his office
behind the scenes, he’s busy paying off your any debts you might have, setting up a trust fund for you, looking for houses you would like
wants you to be set up for life
showers you in decadent lingerie that fits you perfectly from boutiques like la perla, agent provocateur and honey birdette - only the best for his girl
has to replace your lingerie quite often though, he goes feral when he sees you all dolled up just for him
even more so if you were good and listened to his demands, buying the exact lingerie he wanted to see you in
has you sign a detailed contract before the arrangement begins since he wants to make sure you’re comfortable with everything
also wants to make sure you follow his rules
wants you to only refer to him using “sir” when it’s just the two of you
i see him as the kind of sugar daddy that does expect some sugar in return
he’s very abrasive in bed, and calls you all types of degrading names which only serves to turn you both on further
has some…curious interests that he pays you more for indulging in - he is a gentleman after all
“my money hungry slut” and “little whore” are his favourites
takes you on shopping sprees for aftercare (and maybe he does cuddle too but you can’t let anyone else know that) - he doesn’t want you to think he views you a less than just because of the life path you’ve chosen
his idea of pillow talk is giving you tips on the stock market and trading
Sevika
the brusque one
she has commitment issues, is afraid of vulnerability and has a high sex drive
this has led her romantic relationships to fail in one way or another, which is where you come in
she sees it as a simple business transaction - nothing more, nothing less
she likes having you around but don’t get confused: she doesn’t want a real relationship with you
doesn’t sugar coat her words around you and while it might make anyone else run for the hills, you appreciate her honesty
having someone as gorgeous as you coo and hang onto her every word does inflate her ego
everyone wants you, eyes appraising you up and down, but they can’t have you - only she can
so punctual with her payments that it genuinely feels like any other regular job
she looks down on those so called sugar mommies that skimp out of paying a fair rate - you don’t need to worry with her, you’ll be getting more than you ever really needed
despite presenting a stoic image, she can’t help but give in to your every whim
all you have to do is glance at a display window with even a hint of longing and she’s immediately rolling her eyes, dragging you into the shop to buy it for you
if you get tired walking around and ask her to carry you she will huff and puff but that doesn’t stop her from scooping you up anyway
she has a strap on AND it’s the kind that ejaculates too
you two go to luxury toy makers and get straps custom made to tailor to both of your wants and desires
she perhaps gets attachments for her mechanical arm too…
she doesn’t skimp out on the good stuff when it comes to you
her hot grunts ring in your ears as she grinds into you, her body seemingly encompassing your entire body and mind
creampies you every time and fucks the cum back inside of your dripping hole just to watch it leak back out and repeat the cycle again until you’re begging out for her
you’re in a daze for a good ten minutes after and she can’t help but snort at the faces you make
maybe this isn’t just a simple transaction to her
Vander
the hesitant one
vander feels icky about the relationship he has with you at the start
he’s much older than you and you’re still in university, it makes him feel like such a bad person who’s preying on your vulnerability
you make sure to always remind him that he’s single-handedly paying for your tuition
you love what he does for you!
once he gets past that hurdle though, god have mercy on your soul, you will be ruined for other people
he basically acts as your mentor just with some extra benefits on the side
loves to hear you yap about any projects you’re working on and does his best to help with any issues at university
he’s the type to text you good morning and good night every single day without fail
even gives you a bigger allowance if you wake up early and reply to his good morning texts quickly
what? it’s an incentive to get you to attend your lectures
likes to be called daddy even if it does make him blush intensely
he gets off on the idea of being your protector and the only one to provide for you
cockwarms you when you’re working on assignments and it turns your brain to mush every time
spanks you when you stop paying attention
honestly it feels like he’s working against you whenever he does this
also gets jealous when you talk about dates you had with other people
he never made the relationship an official one, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking you hard, his hand prints left on your hips to mark his territory
definitely can’t walk the next day and he’s so smug
down BAD
Ambessa
the teasing one
ambessa has play things in every city; you name a place, odds are she’s got a hook up there
you’re no exception of course
in fact, you’re her favourite out of them all
whenever ambessa calls, you run to be at her service
L O A D E D
exposes you to experiences you never even knew existed, i’m talking about things only the upper 1% can do
she’s the kind of sugar mommy that likes to hear about your day over a glass of wine
the mundanity helps her calm down from her hectic life
she will hold the things she does for you over your head
it’s mean but she views it as her right considering all the luxuries she gives you access to
jokes she’s going to go to a perfumer and get the scent of your sex turned into a perfume
when you accept a surprise gift from her, it turns out it was not a joke - you should’ve known something was up the second her wicked smile made an appearance
actually doesn’t smell too bad
has you use it every single time you’re around her and only then
she’s a FREAK what can i say
whisks you off to couple spa days; you both deserve a little rest and relaxation every now and then
speaking of spa days, she often asks you to massage her which usually ends with your large hands pawing all over your body
she likes receiving more than giving but she still prioritises giving you plenty of orgasms through the night
what kind of sugar mommy would she be without ensuring you’re also satisfied with your arrangement?
you’re worn out from what she considers foreplay
still, you need to make sure you’re being as thoughtful as she is otherwise you’re getting kicked down the rungs of her sugar baby ladder
Mel
the cunning one
mel is the best sugar mommy around i know it
doesn’t do it often - she tries to limit herself to one sugar baby every once in a while
she sees them as worthwhile investments
if you want to be her sugar baby, you need to bring something useful to the table
she meets you at a science exhibition and is thoroughly impressed with your work
you need funding to complete your research and she needs relief from her stressful life as a counsellor
a win-win situation if you ask her
you don’t see her often, she’s too busy solving problems with the council, but when you do, she makes sure it’s worth your time
expensive dinner dates, surprise weekend get-aways, opera concerts - anything you ask for, it’s yours
not only is she funding all of your research, she takes you to galas where you can mingle with the elites you need to win over to achieve more exposure for your research
she usually sends boxes full of clothes and shoes to your house for you to wear to these outings, and picks you up fancy black car with a chauffeur and bottles of wine in coolers
she has her hand on your leg the entire journey there, a faint smirk on her lips when she notices how hot and bothered you are
in a relationship like this, she likes to be the dominant one in bed
she doesn’t expect anything sexual in return but if you’re willing she’s more than happy to fulfill those needs too
leans towards being sensual and romantic but that doesn’t mean she won’t make sure to fuck you thoroughly
heavy on foreplay to the point you think you’re going to pass out from the pent up energy in you
has lots of toys she likes to use on you, she’s very experimental and wants to test which one you respond to the most
also likes you to use the toys on her too and when she sees you suck her wetness off the toy you just used on her, she melts into a puddle
yeah, you’re getting an instant increase on your allowance and you’re getting a new custom wardrobe
Jayce
the proud one
jayce comes from a relatively well-off family, but his inventions launched him into stardom and left him with more money than he knew what to do with
he decides the best thing he can do is spread the love
he finds you on a site for this kind of stuff, something he would rather die than admit, and knew he had to get you on a date with him
makes you custom jewellery set with the most unique stones you’ve ever seen and loves when you wear them out on dates with him
you probably have the entire gdp of a small country just on your wrist alone
wants a play-by-play of all the things you bought that week, he’s lowkey into hearing how much of his money you spent on treating yourself
he wants you to buy even more things with his money than you already do which flusters you but you give in every time
he’s another one that wants a fashion show where you try on everything you bought
he just likes to sit and clap with a smile as you twirl for him
loves to show you off at all the balls and galas he’s invited to
takes you on late night drives in his alpine a110 r-turini and he always has one arm, big with straining muscles, around your headrest which never fails to make your heart flutter
oh i can see him being into role play
maybe he’s your boss and you’re the maid he just caught stealing from him lmao
he loves to get sloppy head from you and offers you all sorts of gifts in return
talking, or helplessly groaning in this situation, about all the ways you can drain his money is his form of dirty talk, “yeah, just like that babe. you want me to buy that new phone don’t you? well, take me like the good girl i know you are and work for it.”
he’s so whipped for you it borders on quite cute imo
Viktor
the cocky one
viktor came into new money after selling the patent for one of his inventions
he is well aware that he’s an attractive guy and could have pretty much anyone he wants, but his long work hours aren’t conducive to healthy relationships
so he takes it upon himself to get a sugar baby, no strings attached
has you stay with him in his lab to keep him company - he loves listening to your idle chatter about things he has no interest in
but when it’s you talking about them he’s captivated by every word
likes to call you his “cute lab assistant” and tries to hide how much he likes it when you call him your “handsome scientist”
he fails obviously
he explains extremely complicated topics in a very contrived way, even when he knows he can simplify it for the average person, because seeing the dumbfounded look on your face gets him going
closes down a whole shopping mall just so you can frolic about and shop to your hearts content; oh, don’t worry about all those bags, he has a guy to carry them all so you two can focus on having a nice date ^^
gonna be real, he’s the kind of guy to fuck you against the wall of the changing room, not caring that the bashful shop assistants can hear every single clap of skin slapping against each other and the strangled moans you both let out
buys all the clothes you tried on, you’re too fucked out to notice the looks you get from the workers, and the fact that the clothes might be a bit…dirty 😭
at least he tips them enough to make up for it
sprays his designer cologne on your gifts so you remember who you belong to
playfully suggests you give him a lap dance so he gets his money worth but you both know it was anything but a joke
good thing you love putting on a show for him!
this guy is such a troll, he literally throws money on you and slips bills in between the straps of your underwear as you sensually dance for him in the lingerie he paid for
has to control himself from pouncing on you then and there
he really enjoys the way you can both tease each other and not take things too seriously
Okay omg hi! this is actually my first kinktober, even if im on the writing side of social since ever oops. As you can see, its only based on arcane female characters, every prompt is wlw! i based the prompt on this post, so credit to the creator!! of course, you can make some requests based on the prompt in the comments or in my inbox, you can ask some change if you want!!
DAY 1 .ᐟ .ᐟ Sweat ── Sevika ᝰ
DAY 2 .ᐟ .ᐟ Masks ── Ambessa
DAY 3 .ᐟ .ᐟ Feminization ── Ambessa
DAY 4 .ᐟ .ᐟ Mutual masturbation ── Violet ᝰ
DAY 5 .ᐟ .ᐟ Hands ── Violet
DAY 6 .ᐟ .ᐟ Thigh riding ── Sevika ᝰ
DAY 7 .ᐟ .ᐟ Public sex ── Jinx ᝰ
DAY 8 .ᐟ .ᐟ Sex toys ── Sevika
DAY 9 .ᐟ .ᐟ Cockwarming ── Caitlyn ᝰ
DAY 10 .ᐟ .ᐟ Scent kink ── Mel
DAY 11 .ᐟ .ᐟ Service top ── Violet
DAY 12 .ᐟ .ᐟ First time ── Caitlyn ᝰ
DAY 13 .ᐟ .ᐟ Hate sex ── Ambessa
DAY 14 .ᐟ .ᐟ Camera ── Sevika
DAY 15 .ᐟ .ᐟ Uniform ── Caitlyn
DAY 16 .ᐟ .ᐟ Pearl necklace ── Ambessa ᝰ
DAY 17 .ᐟ .ᐟ Flexible ── Violet
DAY 18 .ᐟ .ᐟ Knive play ── Jinx ᝰ
DAY 19 .ᐟ .ᐟ Begging ── Caitlyn
DAY 20 .ᐟ .ᐟ Choking ── Sevika
DAY 21 .ᐟ .ᐟ Nude modeling ── Mel ᝰ
DAY 22 .ᐟ .ᐟ Dacryphilia (crying) ── Ambessa ᝰ
DAY 23 .ᐟ .ᐟ Cum play ── Jinx
DAY 24 .ᐟ .ᐟ Overstimulation ── Sevika
DAY 25 .ᐟ .ᐟ Sensory deprivation ── Mel ᝰ
DAY 26 .ᐟ .ᐟ Spit ── Sevika
DAY 27 .ᐟ .ᐟ Chest play ── Caitlyn
DAY 28 .ᐟ .ᐟ Orgasm control ── Caitlyn
DAY 29 .ᐟ .ᐟ Praise ── Violet ᝰ
DAY 30 .ᐟ .ᐟ Ball gag ── Ambessa
DAY 31 .ᐟ .ᐟ Double penetration ── Violet and Caitlyn
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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.
༘⋆♡ Arcane characters reacting to having you be a vs bombshell model
featuring: vi, sevika, mel, cait, ekko, viktor and ambessa
warnings: kissing, heavy touching, implied nsfw themes
inspired by my fic XOXO w/ jinx (which is why she isn’t included)
a/n: might of went overboard with some (let me know if there any mistakes)
Sevika
Sevika leaned against the wall, her eyes sweeping over you as you entered the room, the curves of your body accentuated by the form-fitting outfit you were wearing. She didn't say anything at first, her gaze intense as if she were appraising you, testing you. "You look good," she finally said, her voice husky. "But l've got a better idea.
Want to show me just how good?" She stepped closer, her hand grazing the side of your cheek as her fingers gently trailed down your neck. "I want to see you in that lingerie of yours-the one you always wear when you want to really make an impression. The one that drives me wild," she added, her lips curling into a half-smile.
You swallowed, feeling the heat rise between you both. She didn't need to say it twice. The way her eyes burned into you told you everything.
As you slipped out of your clothes and into the requested set, she took a slow, appreciative breath. "Damn... Now that's what I'm talking about." The hunger in her eyes was unmistakable, and you could tell she was ready to claim this moment as hers.
Sevika leaned back in her chair, the low light of her quarters casting sharp shadows across her face as her piercing gaze locked onto you. Her usually composed demeanor faltered slightly as you stepped closer, the lingerie she had insisted on seeing clinging to your figure in all the right ways. She let out a low hum of approval, her scarred lip quirking into a smirk as she rested her elbow on the armrest, her metal fingers tapping rhythmically against her knuckles.
“You’re gonna kill me one of these days, y’know that?” she drawled, her voice husky as her eyes roamed over you, lingering on every detail of the delicate lace and silk.
“You said you wanted to see it,” you teased, stepping between her legs, your confidence wavering slightly under her intense scrutiny.
Sevika’s smirk widened as she reached out, her human hand brushing over your hip while the cool metal of her prosthetic traced your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “Didn’t think you’d actually listen,” she admitted, her tone rough but tinged with amusement. “But damn, you wear it better than I imagined.”
Her grip tightened, and in one swift motion, she pulled you onto her lap, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. Her hands roamed boldly, one sliding to your waist to pull you closer while the other cupped the back of your neck, anchoring you to her.
“You’re mine tonight,” she growled against your lips, her voice low and possessive. “Every damn inch of you.”
The tension in the air was electric, her touch igniting a fire under your skin as she kissed down your neck, her sharp teeth grazing your skin playfully. You could feel her smirk against your collarbone as her hands continued their exploration, leaving no part of you untouched.
“Sevika,” you gasped, your voice trembling as her lips and and hands sent your senses into overdrive.
She chuckled, the sound rumbling through her chest as she leaned back slightly to admire the effect she had on you. "Relax," she murmured, her thumb brushing over your cheek as her eyes softened ever so slightly. "We've got all night." And knowing who sevika is with you, you knew that she was telling the truth. It was going to be a rough night.
Vi
Vi was already leaning against the wall when you stepped off the stage, her arms crossed and a cocky grin plastered across her face. The moment she saw you in your intricate wings and delicate lingerie, she couldn't hide her pride-or the heat in her gaze.
"Damn," she drawled as you approached, her eyes shamelessly raking over you. "How am I supposed to share you with the whole world when you look like that?" Your cheeks warmed as you stepped closer, unable to keep the smile off your face. "You like it?" you teased, spinning slowly to give her the full view.
"Like it?" she repeated, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you. Her hands found your waist, pulling you flush against her. "Babe, I love it. But now I can't stop thinking about getting you out of it." She whispered, her breath warm against your ear, the promise of more heat to come in her voice.
Before you could answer, she reached out, pulling you toward her with a strength that made your heart skip a beat. Her lips found yours, firm and passionate, a kiss that left no room for hesitation. Her hands slipped down your back, pressing you flush against her, grinding your hips together for just a moment, enough to send a thrill through both of you. Hands roaming from the soft silk of your waist to the small of your back, where she hooked her fingers over the straps of the wings.
"You're incredible up there," she murmured against your lips, her voice husky. "But I think I prefer this view with just you and me."
You laughed softly, your hands sliding up her chest and locking behind her neck. "So, no complaints about my job, then?"
She smirked, leaning down to nip at your jawline. "None. As long as I'm the only one who gets the private shows."
"Jealous much?" Her grip tightened slightly on your hips as she kissed a trail down your neck.
"Nah," she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. "Just possessive." Your breath hitched as her hands dipped lower, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What do you say we head home? I wanna see you take this off."
Mel Merdarda
The evening air was heavy with the scent of candles and sweet perfume as you stepped into Mel Medarda’s private quarters. Her golden eyes lifted from the glass of wine in her hand, and the moment they landed on you, the room seemed to still. She was lounging on a chaise, her regal posture radiating authority, but the flicker of surprise and desire in her gaze softened her otherwise impenetrable demeanor.
“You’ve outdone yourself tonight,” she murmured, her voice like velvet, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She set her glass down and stood, her silk gown cascading around her as she crossed the room with an elegance only she could command.
Her hands reached out, brushing against the edges of your robe. Slowly, she pulled it aside to reveal the intricate lingerie beneath. The golden embroidery glimmered in the candlelight, hugging your figure perfectly. Mel’s fingers grazed your bare shoulder, her touch light but electrifying.
“You’re a vision,” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave as her lips found yours in a kiss that was both reverent and insistent. Her hands traced your waist, pulling you closer as her warmth enveloped you.
Breaking the kiss, she looked into your eyes, her smile soft yet mischievous. “Tonight, you’re not just mine to admire,” she said, her voice sultry as she led you toward the chaise. “You’re mine to worship.” And worship you, she did, with all the precision and devotion you’d come to expect from her.
Caitlyn Kiramman
Caitlyn had always been composed, but the moment you entered her bedroom, the shift in her demeanor was undeniable. She stood by the bed, her eyes never leaving you as she slowly approached.
"You're looking stunning, as always," she said softly, but there was something more to her words— something loaded with desire.
Before you could respond, she moved quickly, her hand finding the back of your neck, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Her lips were gentle at first, almost hesitant, but that hesitation faded quickly as she pinned you to the bed, her body pressing you down.
Her hands roamed, tracing the curve of your body as her lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, each kiss leaving you breathless. "You're mine now," Caitlyn murmured, her voice filled with possessiveness and longing, as she kissed you with renewed fervor.
Caitlyn's weight pressed you gently into the soft mattress as her lips moved hungrily against yours, her usually refined and composed demeanor unraveling in the privacy of her dimly lit bedroom. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silver glow over her tousled hair and sharp features as she kissed you with an intensity that sent heat rushing through your veins.
Her hands roamed your sides, her touch firm but reverent, like she was mapping every inch of your body for the first time. As her lips left yours, you barely had a moment to catch your breath before they found their way to your jaw, then lower, to the delicate skin of your neck.
"You're incredible," Caitlyn murmured against your skin, her voice husky and filled with awe. Her hands slid under the hem of your shirt, her fingers grazing your bare skin as she drew closer, her hips flush against yours. "How did I get so lucky?"
Your breath hitched as she grabbed your wrists harder above your head with one hand. She tilted her head up, her sapphire eyes locking onto yours, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. "Do you want me to continue?" she asked, her tone soft but teasing as her free hand traced lazy patterns down your torso.
You nodded, unable to form words under the weight of her gaze, and she leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Good," she whispered before trailing kisses down your neck, her hand releasing your wrists to cup your cheek.
Her kisses became slower, more deliberate as she moved lower, her touch grounding and unhurried, savoring every reaction she pulled from you. You arched into her, your fingers tangling in her hair as she found the sensitive spot just below your collarbone.
"You're breathtaking," Caitlyn said softly, her voice raw with emotion as she pulled back for a moment to admire you. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss before she smiled, her thumb stroking your cheek. "And you're mine."
It wasn't just the passion in her touches or the hunger in her kisses that left you breathless, it was the way Caitlyn held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. The quiet devotion in her every move.
Ekko
Ekko was nervously tapping his fingers against his leg as he watched you enter, his eyes wide. He'd always admired you from afar, but seeing you now in that revealing outfit-it was too much for him to handle.
"U-uh... can we... can we do a private show? Just for me?" he stammered, his cheeks flushed. His fingers fidgeted as he tried to gather the courage to ask, his voice full of a mix of excitement and nerves. You could tell he was flustered, and a smile crept onto your face. You approached him slowly, giving him a teasing wink.
"Of course," you said softly. "Just for you, Ekko." His eyes lit up, and the look of wonder on his face made your heart flutter. You moved into the center of the room, giving him a slow, sensual dance, letting the rhythm flow through you.
Every movement you made seemed to take his breath away, and when you finished, he was speechless, his eyes wide and full of admiration. "That... was amazing," he whispered. "I-I can't believe you did that for me."
Ekko leaned against the wall of the hideout, his face still flushed from your impromptu “fashion show.” His wide eyes darted between you and the floor, his words stumbling over themselves.
“I-I didn’t think you’d actually—”
“You asked for a private fashion show,” you teased, stepping closer, the soft fabric of your robe brushing against your legs. “I just delivered.”
Ekko swallowed hard, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually…” His voice trailed off as he gestured vaguely toward you, his fingers twitching.
“You didn’t think I’d wear something like this for you?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “You really underestimate me, Ekko.”
His gaze flickered to yours, the usual sharp confidence in his eyes softened by his clear awe. “No, it’s not that,” he muttered, his voice dropping. “I just didn’t think I deserved to see you like this.”
That caught you off guard. You stepped closer, reaching out to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his warm skin. “Ekko,” you said softly, “you’ve done so much for me. For everyone here. You deserve a lot more than just this.”
His hand came up to cover yours, his touch steady despite his flustered demeanor. “You don’t have to do anything special for me, you know?” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “Just… you being you is enough.”
You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. His breath hitched, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his hands hesitantly finding your waist. The tension in the air shifted, the nervous energy giving way to something warmer, more intimate.
As your fingers threaded through his hair, Ekko pulled you closer, his grip firm but gentle. The kiss deepened, and you felt his heart pounding against yours, fast and steady like the rhythm of a drum.
When you finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were slightly swollen. “You’re really trying to kill me here,” he joked breathlessly, his hands still resting on your waist.
“Not at all,” you teased, trailing a finger along his jawline. “But I do like seeing you flustered. It’s cute.”
He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassment. “You’re such a tease.”
“And you love it,” you quipped, wrapping your arms around his neck. Ekko chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “Yeah,” he admitted softly, his arms tightening around you. “I really do.”
The moment lingered, the hum of the hideout fading into the background as the two of you held each other. For all the chaos and danger in your lives, this was a rare moment of peace. And neither of you wanted to let it go.
Viktor
Viktor's lab was cluttered with papers and equipment, but as soon as you stepped in, the clutter seemed to disappear. All he could focus on was you. You stood before him, your usual elegance replaced by an undeniable confidence, as you slowly peeled back the layers of your clothing. Viktor's breath caught in his throat as you revealed what lay beneath. The way your eyes met his, made his pulse race.
You leaned casually against the counter, but the smirk playing on your lips betrayed how much you enjoyed his reaction.
"Well?" you teased, your voice soft yet challenging. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to say something?"
Viktor blinked, his lips parting as if to form words, but they didn't come. His gaze flickered downward to the lingerie you wore, all delicate lace and sheer fabric, a stark contrast to the sterile and utilitarian environment of his workspace. "You're... truly something," he finally managed, his accent curling around the words.
You tilted your head playfully. “Something good, I hope?"
He took a cautious step closer, his cane clicking softly against the floor. "You know exactly what I mean," he murmured, his voice lower now, tinged with awe. His hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before his fingers brushed the fabric at your hips. "You've outdone yourself."
Your heart skipped at the reverence in his tone. "I thought l'd surprise you," you said softly, leaning into his touch.
"You've done more than surprise me," Viktor admitted, his golden-brown eyes locking onto yours. "You've... completely distracted me."
You chuckled, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. "Is that such a bad thing?"
Before he could answer, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Viktor stiffened at first, clearly caught off guard, but then his hands found their way to your hips, hesitant yet firm. He kissed you back, slow and deliberate, as though trying to savor every moment. When you deepened the kiss, sliding your fingers into his hair, Viktor groaned softly against your lips. His grip tightened, his fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath the lace. The cool touch of his metal prosthetic sent a shiver down your spine, and he immediately stilled. "Did I hurt you?" he asked quickly, his brows furrowing in concern.
You shook your head, smiling up at him. “No. You could never hurt me."
Relief washed over his face, and his grip on you grew more confident. He leaned in again, this time guiding you backward until the edge of the counter pressed into your lower back. The hard surface contrasted sharply with the warmth of his body as he kissed you again, more fervently now.
His hand roamed upward, tracing the delicate straps on your shoulder before cupping your jaw, tilting your face so he could explore the curve of your neck.
You gasped as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
"I have a pretty good idea," you teased, your hands slipping under his shirt to trace the lines of his torso.
He groaned again, his lips finding yours once more. The lab faded away, the hum of the equipment replaced by the sound of your shared breaths and the soft clink of his cane as he shifted to pull you impossibly closer.
For once, Viktor allowed himself to forget his work, his experiments, and the ever-looming weight of his ambition. In this moment, all that mattered was you-and the way you made him feel alive.
Ambessa Merdarda
Ambessa reclined back in her chair, her gaze heavy and consuming as you finished your slow, deliberate movements across the room. The rich velvet curtains framing her private quarters swayed slightly with the night's breeze, though the air felt anything but cold under her watchful eyes. You stood before her in the intricate lingerie she had requested, the delicate pink fabric accentuating every curve of your body in the flickering firelight.
Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, the powerful general seemed at a loss for words, a rare vulnerability slipping through her commanding exterior. At nearly twice your height and with shoulders that could carry entire armies, Ambessa always made you feel small in the best way. A stark contrast that clearly did something to her now as her gaze grew darker.
"You've outdone yourself," she finally said, her voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I knew you'd be breathtaking, but this..." Her words trailed off as her golden eyes roamed over you. Feeling emboldened, you tilted your head with a playful smile. "Is it everything you imagined, General?" you teased, your voice soft yet sultry.
Ambessa smirked, the slight twitch of her lips only emphasizing her predatory demeanor. "More," she admitted, rising from her chair with a deliberate slowness that made her seem even larger. She approached with the precision of a lion stalking prey, her heavy boots clicking against the polished wood floor. When she stood before you, the top of your head barely reached her chest.
Her broad shoulders eclipsed the firelight behind her, casting you in her shadow as she placed her massive hands on your hips. She pulled you forward effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing to her, the size of her hands spanning nearly your entire waist.
"You've got my attention," she murmured, her voice rumbling against your smaller frame as her fingers traced the delicate diamond straps of your lingerie. Looping it around her fingers, letting it fall off your shoulder.
"Now, what will you do with it?" Your breath hitched as her lips brushed the shell of your ear, her warm breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. Her hands roamed your body, the stark contrast of her rough, calloused touch against the soft silk of your lingerie making you tremble.
"Ambessa," you whispered, your voice trembling as her kisses moved lower, trailing along your neck and collarbone with an intensity that left you breathless.
She chuckled softly, her hands tightening their grip on your waist, her fingers brushing against your lower back as she pulled you impossibly closer. The difference in your size only seemed to spur her on, her gaze filled with an almost possessive hunger as she loomed over you. "Careful," she teased, her tone a mix of amusement and warning. "I might start thinking you enjoy being at my mercy."
Then ambessa made her way back to her chair, sitting down while manspreading, with her arms laying of the arm rest. Looking at you with a feverish expression. "Come here," she commanded softly, her voice velvet. "Since you're looking even more irresistible than usual."
You hesitated for just a moment, the air thick with unspoken desires, before walking towards her.
"Dance for me, darling," Ambessa purred, eyes darkened with intent. "Let me see you move."
With a small smirk, you began to dance, slow and seductive, your body swaying to an invisible rhythm. Her gaze followed every movement, and you could feel her heat from across the room.
As you moved closer to her, her hands caught your waist, pulling you in for a slow, deliberate kiss. "You going to kill me with the way you move," she murmured against your lips, and you couldn't help but smile at her words, feeling the tension between you both become even more palpable. “How about you use those skills for a different purpose.”
Since you've started working at the Pitt, Mel’s been completely confused as to why you’ve been cold towards her. You went to med school together? ...turns out she has no idea you’re holding onto one-sided tension and competition from med school.
summary: eventual smut (service top!mel), friends w/ interest to "enemies" to dating, hurt/comfort, slow-burn tension, denying feelings, r overthinks/has one sided slight competetion/drama
She lit up the moment you walked in, recognizing you instantly.
Your name slipped from her lips almost before she realized it. Her chest tightened with the urge to run over, to throw her arms around you, to close the distance that suddenly felt impossibly wide. But all she got was a passing glance—cool, distant—before you walked away.
Her smile faltered, fading into confusion. Her brows knitted as a strange unease settled in her stomach. Maybe her mind was playing tricks after the long shift, imagining you, misreading the moment. The you she knew would have been excited to see her… unless she had been wrong all along.
She hadn’t even realized her hands were clenched together, eyes fixed on where she’d just seen you.
“You ok, kid?” Dana Evans asked as she stepped up beside her, sharp-eyed and steady like she always was. Even after all the chaos at the Pitt, Dana could tell when someone was off. “Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Her voice, practical, no-nonsense, just what every resident needed after a long shift. It pulled her out of that daze. And somehow… that made it sting even more.
"Yeah, fine.. I'm fine."
The Pittsburgh General ER wasn’t far from your apartment, close enough that your morning commute was more coffee and half-listening to the radio than a slog through traffic. After years of med school, late nights, and endless exams, you’d landed a job.
And then you walked in.
The world seemed to collide in front of you. Her face—bright, expectant, entirely unaware—made your chest tighten in ways you hadn’t prepared for. Your heart clenched, emotions twisting and sparking like static, and for a moment, you froze.
You had no idea she’d be here, working here. Every instinct screamed at you, overwhelming in an already overstimulating space. So you spun on your heel, forcing yourself another way. Your heart raced in anger, feeling frustrated seeing her. Feeling enraged, why would she be that happy to see you. Not after what happened.
Senior Year, 2019
You and Mel King shared a class, and from the start, a quiet friendship formed.
You helped each other study for the smaller quizes, pored over assignments together, spent long nights in dorm rooms or the campus library. Sometimes, it wasn’t about school at all. Sitting on a bench late at night, leaning against the stairwell in a quiet building, talking about your life, her sister, where you both wanted to go after you graduated..
When finals rolled around, the late nights and endless problems consumed you. You stayed up helping her, sharing notes, quizzing each other until your brain felt fried. But it wasn’t just academics that kept you close, it was her presence. The way she leaned into explanations, the way her laughter made your chest tighten, the subtle brush of her hand over yours. You told yourself it was just friendship. Just studying.
It all ended when the finals seasons ended.
Because you failed.
Failed to the point of having to retake the classes.
She passed—easily, brilliantly.
It was all you heard from her, a single text, before the line went radio silent. You two didn't have to be friends after studying together, but it felt she was genuinely interested.
Every memory replayed in your mind like a cruel loop. Her awkward laughter across the table in the library, the way she leaned closer when something was complicated, the quiet late-night study sessions that had felt like they meant something more.
The contrast of your life full of her to the silence that now fills the air sits heavy in your chest, impossible to ignore. Slowly, the questions began to creep in, unwelcome but persistent. The reason you tried to come up with turned into cruel overthinking. How had it happened? You studied the same material, spent the same hours preparing. How did she walk away brilliant while you were left starting over?
Your mind turned it over again and again, searching for something that made sense. At your lowest moments, darker thoughts slipped in—maybe she had focused on the right material while letting you spend your time on the wrong things. Maybe you had only learned the parts that helped her pass.
You hated thinking that way. Hated the way suspicion crept into memories that had once felt warm.
But the silence made it worse. Each day that passed with silence, each text left unanswered.
The first few nights were the hardest. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the reality settled in piece by piece. You would have to do it all again. Retake the classes. Relearn the material. And you would be doing it alone.
Each quiet night gave your mind too much space. You dissected every interaction, replayed every conversation, every shared study session, every lingering glance. The what-ifs piled up until they blurred together, and slowly, almost without you noticing, the bitterness took root.
At some point, the questions stopped being questions. Your initial hurt, fresh and barren has contorted into anger, resentment almost. Your mind settled on an answer instead.
She must have done it on purpose.
The thought slid into place quietly, turning every memory on its head. All those nights studying, all the time you spent explaining things while she listened, maybe it had never been equal. Maybe she had known exactly what she was doing. And you had been too trusting to see it.
Each time you passed by, she lifted a hand in a small wave, only for it to go unnoticed by you. After a moment she would lower it again, the gesture shrinking back into something awkward as uncertainty crept onto her face.
She still greeted you in the mornings, offering the same warm smile she always had. A quiet “morning” here, a hopeful glance there.
Every time, she was met with silence.
You never returned the smile. Never slowed down. Never even looked her way. Your chest was too full of old hurt, old hurt had hardened into pure anger. About a month had flown by and you kept up the facade, ignoring her truly. You stuck to your trainer at first, but once you were allowed alone, you took each case that set you far away from her.
You glance up at the board, fingers resting lightly on the stethoscope hanging around your neck as you scan the list of incoming patients.
Dr. Robby steps up beside you, arms already crossed as he looks over the screen.
He doesn’t even have to ask.
“I’ll take the broken arm in—”
“I’d like you to take the road rash instead.”
You follow his gaze toward the room assignment and immediately spot that familiar fuckass braid.
Your jaw tightens.
“Looks like she’s already got it,” you mutter, nodding toward the room. “I can go to—”
Dr. Robinavitch says your name, stopping you mid-sentence. He tilts his head slightly toward the hallway. “Can we talk for a moment?”
His tone is calm, but the tension in his jaw makes it clear this isn’t optional. You nod once and follow him toward a quieter corner of the ER, far enough from the nurses’ station that the constant noise dulls into background hum.
He turns to face you.
“You need to cut it out,” he says plainly.
Your brows knit together.
“It’s obvious,” he continues, voice low but firm. “It’s unprofessional, and it’s starting to disrupt the team. Fix it. I don't care what you do, but fix whatever is going on. I don't want or need people here on this staff who'll treat others this way, okay...? Especially, not her."
The words land heavier than you expected. He's blunt, you've been told so by the others. Says it how it is, but damn.
He raises his eyebrows, awaiting an answer and you give a brainless nod, "I'll go to case road rash..."
God, it was everything terrible. Working alongside her.
She talked the whole time. Rambling, really. Filling the space with easy commentary while the patient sat stiff in the chair, eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling as she carefully wiped the blood away and began picking small stones out of his leg.
Her hands were steady. Gentle, even. Like she’d done this a thousand times before.
“You’re gonna feel a little pressure here,” she said softly to the patient, her voice calm in that effortless way that made people listen. You stood beside her, passing gauze when she asked, trying to focus on the procedure instead of the sound of her voice.
But she kept talking.
Not just to the patient—sometimes to you, too. Little observations, quiet jokes meant to ease the tension. Like the years between you hadn’t happened at all. Like you weren’t standing there with your chest tight and your patience worn thin. She sounded comfortable, natural. Like this was exactly where she belonged.
You do respond—but only when you have to.
Short answers. Curt. Just enough to keep things professional.
You can feel the weight of Robby’s eyes through the glass of the room, watching the interaction unfold, and that alone keeps you from snapping completely. So you force it. You nod when necessary, pass the gauze when she asks, murmur the occasional yeah or right.
You even manage to mask a smile once or twice.
The whole interaction feels fabricated, like you’re playing a version of yourself that doesn’t actually exist.
Mel keeps talking, steady hands working as she wipes away the blood and picks the small stones from the patient’s leg. Eventually she finishes, wrapping the bandage snug around his calf.
Just as she ties it off, she turns toward you with a small smile, but you’re already gone. The patient shifts awkwardly on the bed, looking between the empty space you’d been standing in and Mel.
“So… when can I go home?”
Mel blinks, a little thrown off.
“Um… yeah. We’ll, uh…”
You peel the gloves from your hands with a tired sigh, snapping them off and tossing them into the trash. You barely have a second to breathe before Santos appears around the corner, practically sing-songing your name. She’s already posted against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a look that means she’s been waiting to corner you.
“So,” she starts slowly, tilting her head, “you and Mel…?”
You cut her off immediately.
“So nothing. Drop it… please,” you say, already turning slightly away.
You cut her off before she can finish, pulling your locker open and reaching inside.
“Nothing,” you say flatly.
Santos doesn’t buy it. She stays there, arms still crossed, waiting. You grab what you need and shut the locker.
“We studied together all the time,” you say, not looking at her. “Shared notes, studied for the same exams. I spent half that semester helping her get through the material.”
You pause, jaw tightening.
“Then finals came. She passed. I didn’t.”
Santos shifts slightly but stays quiet.
Santos shifts slightly but stays quiet.
“That’s why I’m a year behind her.”
She huffs, "or you’re just stupid.”
You shoot her a glare. Instead of backing off, Santos lifts her hands in surrender, the teasing grin still hanging on her face.
“Hey, hey—relax. I'm teasing.”
She tilts her head, thinking it over.
“Mel?” she says slowly, her brows knitting together. “Sweet, awkward Mel?”
Her brows knit together.
“That’s… not really the vibe I get from her. Being resourceful enough to use someone like that? Kind of diabolical.”
You roll your eyes, turning away to shove something back into your locker. Santos watches you for another second before the corner of her mouth curls again.
“Huh,” she says. Then she gestures vaguely toward you. “So what does that make you?”
A beat passes as she considers it.
"Grudge."
You look up sharply. “Excuse me?”
Santos is already pushing off the wall, that same amused smirk tugging at her mouth.
“See ya, Grudge.”
It’s becoming obvious to everyone in the ER.
The break room fills with quiet speculation, pieces of gossip stitched together as people try to figure out the story between the two of you. No one knows the full picture, but everyone has noticed the tension.
Mel had tried, at first. The bright greetings in the morning. The small waves when you passed. The easy friendliness she offered like nothing had changed.
But that excitement had faded into something quieter now. Something hesitant. Confused. A little hurt. In her mind, the explanation had always been simple. People drift after med school. Life moves on. She had messaged you back then, tried to keep in touch, but when no response came she assumed that was that. Friends sometimes fade in and out of each other’s lives.
She had no idea there was anything deeper than that.
Now she sits at the computer typing up a report, her fingers moving automatically across the keyboard as you pass behind her. Her eyes lift without thinking, following you as you walk by. You don’t look at her.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
A few feet away, Dr. Robby stands talking with Dana, but his attention drifts the moment he catches Mel watching you walk past. He sighs, rubbing a hand across his forehead.
Mel’s expression—those quiet, wounded puppy eyes—and your cold, deliberate distance have been grinding on his patience for days.
Dana notices too. She huffs, lightly shoving his shoulder.
“Give it time,” she says. “They’ll work it out.”
“No,” Robby mutters, shaking his head. “No, I’m not going to. This needs to stop now."
His voice carries just enough. He calls both of your names. You stop mid-step, shoulders stiffening, and Mel’s gaze snaps away from you.
Robby gestures toward the incoming trauma bay just as the ER doors burst open and a stretcher is wheeled inside. The EMT launches straight into the report as you and Mel fall into step beside the gurney, moving automatically into place.
Male, mid-thirties. Motorcycle accident. Conscious but disoriented. You help guide the stretcher into an open room, grabbing the rails as the EMTs maneuver it beside the bed.
“On three,” someone says.
You and Mel lift together with the others, transferring the patient carefully onto the mattress as the EMT continues explaining the injuries.
“Thirty-four-year-old male,” the EMT says, stepping back. “Motorcycle collision. Thrown from the bike. Helmet cracked but stayed on. Complaining of chest pain and left leg pain. Vitals were stable in transport but he’s getting more confused.”
Robby moves to the side of the bed immediately, already assessing.
“Alright,” he says calmly. “Let’s get a quick look. What are we seeing?”
Mel leans slightly closer to the patient, eyes scanning the injuries.
“Looks like—”
“Possible rib fractures,” you cut in, already reaching for gauze to press against the abrasion on the patient’s shoulder. “Breathing’s shallow.”
It’s a strange sense of satisfaction, being the one to answer first. Especially when the questions drift into topics the two of you had once studied side by side. For a moment, it feels like something small but meaningful—like reclaiming ground you’d lost. Like proving to yourself and those in the room, if only in passing, that you hadn’t been the weak link after all..
Mel’s mouth closes. Robby glances between the two of you but continues.
“Any obvious deformities?”
Mel shifts toward the patient’s leg.
“The left—”
“Left leg,” you say again, already lifting the sheet slightly. “Swelling near the tibia.”
Mel exhales quietly through her nose. Robby’s eyes flick up again.
“Okay,” he says. “Mel, what do you think we should do for imaging?”
She opens her mouth.
“X-ray on the leg and chest,” you answer, adjusting the blood pressure cuff as the machine begins to inflate.
Robby responds almost immediately. Arms crossed, head tilted.
“Are you Mel, doctor? Because I'm pretty sure I said Mel."
You only let out a small groan under your breath, like the correction is more annoying than anything, and keep moving. Checking the IV line, adjusting the monitor leads. Mel steps in again anyway, steady voice cutting through the moment.
“Chest X-ray and tib-fib X-ray,” she says, repeating it calmly.
The patient groans as you shift his leg slightly and you focus back on him instead of the tension building behind you. Vitals stabilize. The bleeding is controlled. Orders are placed. Within minutes the room settles into the quieter rhythm that comes after the initial rush.
You step away first. Peeling off your gloves, you drop them in the trash and push through the door before anyone can stop you.
Behind you, Robby follows almost immediately.
Mel lingers only a moment longer with the patient before stepping out as well, trailing a few paces behind the two of you.
“Doctor," he starts.
You keep walking.
“Hey.”
His voice sharpens. Your name. You stop.
When you turn, he’s already gesturing for you to come back toward him, motioning you a few steps down the hallway away from the room.
Over his shoulder you can see Mel stepping out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her. She slows when she notices the two of you standing there.
Her eyes flick between you and Robby.
“I’ve already talked to you about this,” he says quietly, but entirely firm. “This shouldn’t have gotten to a second conversation like we're having right now.”
Your jaw tightens, hands clenching at your side before you start to bring one up to point at her.
“Dr. Robby. You don’t understand, she—”
“I don’t give a shit,” he cuts in immediately.
The words are low but sharp enough that they stop you cold.
“You come here, you do your work, and you leave,” he continues, voice firm. “You don’t point fingers, and you don’t drag your baggage in here and ruin the ER.”
Your jaw clenches harder.
“I’m getting a breath of air.”
You don’t wait for a response. You spin on your heel and start toward the exit, the doors sliding open as you push through them and step outside, leaving the noise of the ER behind you.
The door stays open a second longer before it swings shut again. You’re barely two steps away from the entrance when it opens once more. Dana steps out, already fishing a cigarette from the pack in her pocket.
She pauses when she notices you standing there.
“What’re you doing out here, kid?” she asks, slipping the cigarette between her lips. “You smoke too?”
“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’m just… taking a moment.”
Dana hums in understanding, leaning against the wall as she lights it.
“Hey, I get you,” she says after the first drag. “After being here long enough, you start learning when you need to step away for a minute.”
Smoke curls into the cool air between you. For a moment neither of you says anything. Then Dana glances sideways at you.
“So,” she says, voice quieter now. “What’s really going on, kid?”
Your shoulders stiffen. Dana taps the ash from her cigarette.
“Because whatever that is between you and Mel,” she adds, nodding back toward the doors, “it’s loud enough the whole floor can hear it.”
You groan, "we went to med school together. She passed, I didn't."
"So are you mad she did and you didn't?"
No... that's not really the main reason. "Yes."
Dana watches you for a second after that answer. Not buying it. She takes another slow drag from the cigarette, eyes narrowing slightly as she studies your face.
“Yeah,” she says after a moment. “That sounded real convincing.”
You sigh, rubbing a hand over your forehead. Dana flicks ash to the pavement.
“So try again,” she says. “What actually happened?”
Your shoulders tense.
“We went to med school together,” you say finally. “Senior year. We studied together all the time.”
Dana nods once for you to keep going.
“She passed. I didn’t.”
“And?”
You hesitate. Because that’s the part that sounds ridiculous out loud.
“She told me she passed,” you continue, staring at the pavement instead of Dana. “And then she just… disappeared. No calls. No texts. Nothing.”
Dana tilts her head slightly.
“So you think she ditched you after finals.”
You shrug stiffly.
“What else was I supposed to think?”
Dana exhales smoke through her nose, unimpressed.
“Kid, people lose touch after school all the time.”
“That’s not what this was.”
She raises an eyebrow. You shake your head, frustration rising again.
“We studied the same material. Same nights. Same practice exams. And somehow she walks out of that test fine and I fail bad enough to retake the whole thing.”
Dana’s gaze sharpens a little.
“And that means she sabotaged you?”
You shrug, bitterness twisting in your chest. But it’s more than that. You’d felt something between you two. Something subtle, almost electric. Those late-night study sessions, the quiet jokes, the way she leaned in when you explained something, it felt real.
And then she passed, and you didn’t. And it hit you like a gut punch: maybe she’d used that closeness to get what she needed, to pass, while you were left behind. That shift, the one you’d convinced yourself was friendship, suddenly felt hollow, manipulated.
“It means something didn’t add up,” you admit, jaw tight, shoulders stiff. "That she had other intentions."
Dana taps her cigarette against the wall beside her, the ash falling to the pavement.
“Kid,” she says finally, her voice quieter now, serious, almost gentle. “Mel’s been looking at you like a kicked puppy since you walked in that building.”
She nods toward the ER doors again.
“You sure you’re not fighting a war she doesn’t even know exists?”
You stare at her for a beat before finally starting back toward the doors. As the two of you step inside, Dana casts a glance toward Dr. Robby—one of those sly, triumphant looks that makes it clear she feels like she just won some small battle. Robby just rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly. A raspy, amused cackle escapes her.
Trinity Santos had been up to something. Head propped on her hand, she’d been watching the two of you all shift long enough to know this tension had gone on way too long. Your sharp, cold walks past Mel. Mel’s quiet, confused glances. The whole floor had been buzzing about it, but no one was doing anything.
Santos had decided there was only one way to fix it. And if nobody else would step in, she’d have to.
She caught you first, stepping up with a sly grin.
“Hey, Grudge” she said casually. “Can you help me find something in the med closet?”
The closet no one checks often, perfectly chosen. You glance at her, suspicion flickering, but nod. “Sure.”
Then she caught Mel’s attention. Same line, same grin.
“Can you come help me find something in the med closet?”
Mel had already been walked inside, Santos waving her off with a casual, “I just need to grab something—give me a minute.” She hadn’t thought much of it, sitting down on a box in the room as she waits.
Then Santos appeared beside you, same grin, same line. You stepped in, following her, and as soon as you were inside, she quietly stepped back and, without a word, locked the door.
You were scanning the shelves, rifling through supplies, completely unaware of Mel standing just a few feet away—or of Santos lingering outside, smirking.
The click of the lock echoes in the small room. You freeze.
“Santos…?”
Nothing.
You rush to the door, yanking at the handle. Locked.
“Santos!” you call again, louder this time.
Still nothing. It’s like she’s vanished, disappeared into thin air. Meanwhile, outside, Santos walks back toward the main area, that teasing smile still on her face. Dr. Robby notices her and frowns.
“Have you seen them? Either of them?” he asks, suspicion clear in his tone.
Santos shrugs, casual as ever.
“They’re probably with patients. Far away from each other,” she says with a little smirk, hiding perfectly the fact that she knows exactly what’s going on.
You let out a long, frustrated sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door. You stop tugging at the handle, realizing it’s pointless. Locked. Completely.
Then you hear footsteps behind you.
“Oh, hey.”
Your heart drops.
You twist, and there’s Mel, standing there with that unmistakable tilt of her head—curious, cautious, unaware of the tension coiled inside you.
“Santos asked me if I’d help her find something… what brings you here?” she asks, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Nothing,” you mutter, voice tight. “Just looking for an item.”
Mel nods slowly, eyes dropping to your hand resting lazily on the door handle.
“Is the door okay?” she asks, a slight frown knitting her brows.
“No… no,” you admit, jaw tight. “It’s locked.”
Her gaze lifts, meeting yours, and for a second, the tension in the room feels almost unbearable. You can feel the weight of your old hurt mixing with the frustration of the moment.
The room falls quiet.
You lean back against the wall, letting your shoulders sag. Mel hesitates, then slides down across from you, settling onto the floor. After a long moment, she breaks the silence.
“So… what did you do this past year?” Her voice is soft, tentative, almost careful, like she’s testing the waters.
You shrug, staring at your hands resting in your lap.
“School,” you mutter. Short. Flat. Nothing more.
Mel nods slowly, chewing the inside of her cheek. Another pause stretches between you, the quiet of the med closet filling the space in a way that’s almost… intimate, if you ignore the tension.
Neither of you speaks for a while, the only sounds the distant hum of the ER beyond the locked door and the faint shuffle of your own breathing.
Your answer then truly settles in Mels mind...
Mel blinks at you, brow furrowing.
“School?” she repeats, voice unsure. “Like… extra classes? Or…?”
You snap your head up, irritation cutting through the quiet.
“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” you ask, tone sharper than intended.
You feel heat rise in your chest, and your hands curl into fists in your lap.
“What…?” Mel echoes, her eyes wide, confused at the edge in your voice.
You grit your teeth, letting your frustration spill. “You messaged me once that you passed. And I heard nothing after that!”
Mel flinches at your words, and you can see the hurt flicker across her face.
“I… I did message you after,” she stammers, voice small, “I—”
You throw your hands up, exasperation breaking through. “God, you’re such a manipulator. I don’t know how you do it so well!”
Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t speak at first. Confusion, hurt, and disbelief mix on her face.
“Finals,” you continue, your voice tightening, almost like you’re explaining to yourself. “The test… I failed. You passed. And then… never contacted me again. Yeah… great friend you are.”
Mel sits back a little, looking down, silent for a second as if trying to gather herself.
“What…?” she finally whispers, voice barely audible.
“My phone broke,” she admits quickly, voice quivering. “I had to get a new one… I messaged you many times… I… I didn’t know you failed…”
“Then… if you messaged me like you said, where did they go?” you demand, voice tight, chest still burning from the old frustration.
Mel fumbles slightly, eyes widening, then quickly grabs her phone from her pocket.
“Wait—let me show you,” she says, her hands shaking just a little as she scrolls through her messages. “I… I—”
You lean back against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at the screen like it holds all the answers to a year’s worth of misunderstandings.
She hesitates for a second, then tilts the phone toward you. “See? I tried. I messaged you right after finals, and again when I got my new phone…”
You lean forward slightly, squinting at the screen, the knot in your chest loosening just a fraction.
Then you stop, staring at the phone, and blurt out, “Oh, you dork. That’s not my number.”
Mel freezes. “What…?”
“You put a 9 where the 6 goes,” you say, voice tight with disbelief and a flicker of exasperated humor.
Her eyes go wide, and she gasps softly, realization dawning. “Wait… what? Oh… I… I didn’t know…”
The tension in the room shifts just slightly, a mixture of relief, disbelief, and the absurdity of it all settling over you both.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost foreign in the quiet of the closet.
Mel looks at you, wide-eyed, caught somewhere between confusion and relief.
“I… wow,” she whispers, shaking her head, a small, nervous smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t believe… all this time…”
You rub the back of your neck, exhaling slowly. “All this time… for a mistyped number.”
She swallows, looking down at her hands, then back up at you. The weight of the misunderstanding, the hurt, the tension—it all suddenly feels smaller, though the awkwardness still hums between you.
You both slump against opposite walls of the cramped closet, the quiet stretching between you. You lean back against the shelves while she presses herself lightly against the opposite wall. The air is thick with unspoken words, tension, and relief all tangled together.
After a long pause, she murmurs, almost to herself, “Was it just me then…?”
You don’t answer right away. You just wait, listening, letting her voice fill the silence.
“I… I thought you’d just moved on,” she continues, her tone hesitant, small. “And I kept thinking… that I might've read things wrong between us."
The vulnerability in her voice hits you like a weight. Your chest tightens. “It wasn’t just you,” you finally reply, voice low but steady. “It wasn’t one-sided.”
Another long silence falls. You both just look at each other, really look. The quiet hum of the ER outside fades away. You notice the subtle strength in her arms, the curve of her neck, the way her lips press together, unknowing.
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. The tension, the hurt, the months of miscommunication. All of it boils down to this moment. Slowly, deliberately, you crawl across the floor toward her, eyes never leaving hers.
When you’re close enough, your hand finds her jaw, fingers pressing gently but insistently as you tilt your head and lean in.
Her lips meet yours, and it’s messy. Urgent, hungry, full of months of tension and misunderstanding. Your free hand brushes against her hair, trying to steady the whirlwind, but she doesn’t let you take control for long.
As the kiss deepens, she shifts, guiding both of your movements. You find yourself sitting back against the shelf, her body sliding in front of you, pressing close, pressing harder. She kisses you with a mix of tenderness and command, letting you get swept away in the sensation.
Small gasps escape both of you, filling the cramped closet with the sound of something that’s been held in too long finally breaking free. Her hands travel along your shoulders, your arms winding around her waist, both of you lost in the messy, desperate heat of the moment.
As your bodies press closer, the confined space of the closet becomes a world of its own, filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the rustle of fabric. Mel's fingers trace the curve of your neck, her touch igniting sparks that race down your spine. Her glasses fog up, a testament to the heat building between you, as she kisses along your jawline, her breath hot on your skin.
Your hands roam over her back, feeling the muscles tense and release with each movement. She shifts, her knee nudging your legs apart, and you comply, a soft moan escaping your lips as she settles between your thighs. Her fingers trail down your chest, tracing the V-neck of your scrubs, before dipping lower, seeking the hem.
You arch into her touch as her hand slips under your clothes, her fingers skimming over your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She pauses at the waistband of your scrub pants, her gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission. You nod, your breath hitching in anticipation.
Her hand slides lower, slipping under the elastic of your panties, her fingers finding your center. She strokes you, her touch gentle yet firm, exploring your folds, learning your responses. You gasp, your hips bucking slightly, as she finds your clit, rubbing circles that send jolts of pleasure through you.
Your fingers dig into her shoulders, your body tensing as she continues her ministrations. She leans in, her lips capturing yours in a fierce, demanding kiss, swallowing your moans. Her fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance, before moving back up to your clit, rubbing with increasing pressure.
The world narrows down to the sensation of her touch, the sound of your ragged breaths echoing in the small space. She slides your panties to the side, her fingers slipping inside you, filling you, stretching you. You cry out, your body clenching around her, as she begins to move, her fingers pumping in and out, her thumb rubbing your clit in time.
Your body tenses, your muscles coiling tight as the pleasure builds. She feels it, her movements becoming more insistent, her touch more urgent. She kisses you again, her tongue sliding against yours, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Feel good?" she whispers against your lips, her voice ragged, her fingers moving faster, pushing you closer to the edge. "Come for me..."
Your body obeys her command, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cry out, your body convulsing, your fingers digging into her arms as you ride out the pleasure. She slows her movements, her touch gentling, drawing out your orgasm until you're left boneless and breathless in her arms.
She pulls back, her glasses askew, her hair disheveled, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. You reach up, gently pushing her glasses back into place, your fingers brushing against her cheek. She leans into your touch, her eyes never leaving yours.
The world outside the closet fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, hearts racing, breaths coming in uneven pants.
She pulls back just slightly, resting her forehead against yours, lips brushing yours one more, soft peck after the messy, urgent kiss. Air hitches between you as you both try to catch your breath.
“Can… we start over?” she murmurs, voice shaky but hopeful.
You nod, the knot of old hurt finally loosening as a small smile tugs at your lips.
Her grin deepens, mischief flickering in her eyes despite the heaviness of the moment. “Also… you can stop putting your name at the top of every employee chart,” she teases, brushing a hand along your chest. “We’re not in med school anymore—you don’t have to be so competitive with me all the time.”
You laugh softly, the tension finally breaking. The small closet feels lighter now, the knot of months-old hurt unraveling between you two. For a few minutes, it’s just normal—just quiet, easy breathing and the faint hum of the ER beyond the door.
Then you hear footsteps approaching.
Before anyone reaches the door, you both scramble a little, straightening up, trying to look like nothing ever happened.
Dr. Garcia arrives first, pulling on the handle only to find it locked. She frowns, muttering under her breath, and finally pushes it open, stepping inside. Relief washes over you both as she looks around, sees nothing out of the ordinary, and leaves, satisfied.
“Uh…” she starts, pausing mid-step, eyes flicking between you two.
You mutter a single word, voice low but full of mock exasperation, “Santos.”
Without another glance, you push past her, heading to find Trinity, ready to give her the exact combination of gratitude—and slight threat—that she deserves for orchestrating all of this.
