AyaDurable

Lesbian smut fics (Arcane) she/they, over 30, AO3:AyaDurable 18+ mdni

[ayadurable]

Still figuring Tumblr out…

I’ve casually lurked for a while but don’t know anyone. Just trying to post my stories and see what happens. Everything’s also on AO3 under the same name AyaDurable.

I write some fluff but mostly lesbian smut fics with emotions and maybe an actual story. Power dynamics, kinks, want, love. Different Arcane ships and reader-inserts. Women, transmasc and afab nonbinary characters. No g!p. No cis men.

Everyone usually receives. Especially Sevika. Not an agenda, I just think it’s hot when doms receive too, and there aren’t enough fics like that. But I write different dynamics, certainly not all versatile switchy. Hopefully I’ll surprise myself too!

Would love to interact, but I’m over 30 and not here for romance, so please don’t make it weird. Writing, fandom talk, Sevika worship.

Been writing for a while without posting. Lots of half-finished things waiting.

Sevika/Ran/Reader

Heatwave AO3 Tumblr (domestic fluff and humor, suggestive but no smut)

Sevika/Ran

The Monster and the Chaos AO3 Tumblr (backstory+smut)

The Showbox AO3 Tumblr (filthy smut)

Grayson/Reader

Welcome to the Cities AO3 Tumblr (soft dom smut)

Jinx/transmasc Ekko

Just Scars AO3 Tumblr (just fluff)

[ayadurable]

Domestic fluff and humor are stronger than any heatwave…. Modern setting, slice of life, established relationship, suggestive but no smut.

Heatwave

SEVIKA x RAN x READER = ♡♡♡

SUMMARY: You’re trying to work. Sevika’s trying to pretend the heat isn’t getting to her. Ran’s just happy with a freezer full of ice pops.

NOTES: I was all set to write something else, but this just happened. Blame the heat. Or the soda.

AO3 link • 800 words

The heatwave is excruciating. You’ve moved to the coolest room in the house to work on your laptop, the kitchen with the north-facing window. But still, sitting in just your undies, your sweaty thighs stick to the chair, and your laptop is making that low humming sound, the fan trying to keep it from overheating. Your brain is probably very close to overheated too, since you’ve been staring at the same sentence you wrote who knows how long ago, without getting anywhere with the next one.

Ran’s been helpful. Their perpetual good mood hasn’t suffered much, even now. They have half the freezer stocked with towels, which they toss over your or Sevika’s shoulders, then loop back to put the warmed ones back in the freezer. The other half is an impressive variety of ice pops, from which they choose one, humming happily every time they open the thing.

You have to admit, Ran’s devotion actually works, at least somewhat. Without them, you probably would’ve already given up on even trying to work, and gone down the cranky road, too hot to even whine properly, like some tragic heroine.

Sevika’s actually been less grumpy than usual the past few days, mostly because she’s so determined to prove the heat isn’t getting to her. She can handle anything, and this is just heat. But it is getting to her.

She wanders into the kitchen, scowling but silent. You let her be, but you can’t help staring. Just her and those loose summer boxers. She’s not wearing her prosthetic, because she’s not about to drag that thing around in this heat. She opens the fridge, grabs another soda, and sticks it between her bare tits. The way she sighs, you want to become that cold can of soda.

Then she just drops. Sprawls flat on her back across the cool tile, like she’s claiming territory under the slow-turning ceiling fan. Sweat glistens in the dip between her abs. Dark hair damp at the temples. She closes her eyes and mutters, “If anyone even talks to me right now, I swear to gods…” You hum an acknowledgment, content to just look at her, like the biggest cat sprawled across the floor beside you, trying to cool down.

Ran is smirking from the doorway and whispers, “You want a cold soda too?” But they don’t look away from the can Sevika is still keeping pressed to her chest. You don’t actually notice that, because you’re just as fixated on the can, whispering, “Yes please.” Sevika chuffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh.

Since Sevika has fully claimed the entire kitchen floor, Ran carefully maneuvers to the fridge, stepping over her without touching. They grab a soda for you, then another ice pop from the freezer.

They maneuver back over Sevika to get to you, open the soda, and hand it over with a kiss on the top of your head. Then they peel the wrapper from the ice pop and stick it in their mouth with a happy sigh.

You lean back in your chair, giving up on work for a while, and glance at Ran, who’s still smirking, staring at Sevika. You realize what they’re about to do a moment too late to warn her.

Ran crouches down slowly, then presses their ice pop to her belly button.

The way Sevika jerks and growls? It’s like thunder cracking.

Ran cackles but has already jumped out of the kitchen, so the soda can Sevika throws hits the doorframe with a bang and a fizz. You know she wouldn’t actually aim at them, but the whole commotion, Ran’s laughter still echoing from the other room, snaps you out of your heatwave stupor, and you have to bite back a laugh.

“Dumbass,” Sevika grumbles after Ran, but she takes the ice pop from her belly and, before getting up, bites off half of it. Then she grabs a kitchen towel and starts cleaning up the soda mess.

Ran comes back with an offering, another towel, and takes the one from Sevika’s hand.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, babe,” they say, trying to apologize through the chuckling they can’t seem to stop. “I’ll clean it up. You go take a cool shower.”

Sevika lifts one eyebrow and chuffs, giving them a half-hearted shove on the shoulder.

“Want any help in the shower?” Ran calls after her, unable to resist flirting.

And you shout, “I can help too…”

You hear Sevika growl, “No! You idiots…” right before the bathroom door slams.

You try to chide Ran, “Now that was playing with fire…” but you’re laughing too hard for it to land.

“Worth it!” Ran sighs, kissing your cheek on the way to the sink with the towels, damp from the soda cleanup.

You hear the bathroom door open, and Sevika tries to sound gruff, “Fine… You two get over here.”

And somehow, the heat doesn’t slow you, or Ran, down one bit on your way to share a shower with her.

♡

[ayadurable]

Jinx x transmasc Ekko

& grumpy aunt Sevika • Top surgery scars, trans-affirming, he/him pronouns, best friends to maybe something more, broom closet, topless fluff.

SUMMARY: Ekko comes back to the Last Drop after top surgery. Jinx has a plan. It’s about scars, equality, and maybe something more she doesn’t have words for yet. Grumpy Sevika begrudgingly listens to awkward youth. This is fluff ♡

AO3 link • 1.9k words

Just Scars

Jinx has always known to call Ekko he. At least since he told her, and she was the first person he ever told.

That was years ago, back when he first said he, and she just nodded and kept walking, like it was obvious. It was. It is. Ekko is Ekko. 

It’s been like that for a long time, and it’s easy. Jinx just started saying he instead of she, and things kept going like always. Best friends.

But now, at eighteen, things are… different, somehow. He started T. Started changing. His voice is lower. He stands taller and prouder, stronger, like his body’s finally caught up to who he’s always been. And Jinx, well… she notices. But they’re friends. Still best friends.

And now Ekko’s had top surgery. She hasn’t seen him since. Just once, right after, when he was still foggy and hurting, saying he’d see her when the bandages came off.

That was over two weeks ago.

Today he’s coming to the Last Drop. Finally. And Jinx is buzzing, nervous and restless. She doesn’t know why, not really.

She’s sitting next to Sevika, rambling about Ekko, because she can’t talk about anything else since she can’t think about anything else.

“So I was thinking maybe he’d show me his new scars. Scars are cool, right?”

Sevika huffs through her nose. She’s definitely going to need another drink soon. “You can’t just go lifting people’s shirts, dumbass.”

Jinx thinks it over. It’s Ekko, so she’s sure he’ll show her. But Sevika is right. It has to be equal. “Right. Not weirdly. Just like, normal. And if I lift my top too, so it’s fair. Like, emotional equality or whatever.”

Sevika tries not to chuckle. “There is no way that wouldn’t be weird.”

But Jinx is sure. “It’s not weird when it’s Ekko! He’ll let me see. It’s fine.”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “Right. Better do that somewhere private, ‘cause I don’t need to see that awkward shit, kid.”

Jinx has a plan in seconds. “Okay, so he’s gonna be here soon. Perfect time. I’ll just catch him in the bathroom. That’s private.”

Sevika snorts. “You’re gonna ambush someone? In a bathroom?” 

Jinx nods. “Storage room, then. Just lift my top, lift his shirt, and it’s all equal and private and cool. Scars are cool.”

Sevika takes the slowest sip imaginable, the liquor burning just enough to keep her from cracking up. “You can’t just corner someone with your tits out.”

But Jinx isn’t one to give up a plan. “It’s not like that! I’ll be normal. Just, you know… hey, scars, friendship, vulnerability twins, blah blah. Then shirts. He’ll get it.”

Sevika shakes her head. “You ever consider asking?”

“I am! In a visual kind of way! And if I go first, it’s totally no pressure. I’m making it safe!”

Sevika groans like she’s aged ten years. “I don’t wanna hear the moans if this gets awkward.”

Jinx pauses. “You think there’ll be moaning?”

Sevika says it flat. “This plan of yours sucks.”

But Jinx is already halfway to the hallway, grinning and muttering, “There’s not gonna be moaning. It’s just Ekko.”

* * *

That’s when the door opens, and Ekko walks in.

He’s broad-shouldered now. He’s been working out a lot but he still has that familiar wild spark in his eyes when he scans a room. And he’s scanning now, searching for Jinx. He’s always searching for Jinx.

When he doesn’t see her, he buys a drink from the bar, nods at Sevika, and heads toward her booth. He walks like the leader he is, nothing unsure about him.

Sevika watches him approach, brows crunched together, like she’s deciding how much emotional labor she owes the youth of Zaun tonight. When he sits, she sighs and grunts a warning. “She’s gonna ambush you and drag you into the storage room.”

Ekko blinks. “What?”

Sevika gestures vaguely toward the hallway. “Storage room. The new scars. She’s gonna show you her tits and lift your shirt. Says it’s ‘equal sharing’ or some shit.”

Ekko fumbles with his drink, nearly spills it. The only one who can really unsettle him is Jinx.

“Wait, what? She’s gonna… Why would…? Now? Her top too…?”

His voice cracks at the last part, but he’s pretty sure it’s not the T. It’s just… Jinx. Anyone’s voice would crack if Jinx was gonna do that, right? He tries to hide it, clearing his throat and slumping into the seat, manspreading with fervor.

Sevika smirks and raises her glass. “You’re here. She’s been waiting. Figured you deserved a head start with this particular game.”

Ekko swallows. He wouldn’t want anyone just lifting his shirt right now. Except Jinx. Fuck, he even likes the idea. He rubs the back of his neck, then mutters, “Okay. Okay. I can handle this. I think.”

It’s not like he’s not going to see her. It’s Jinx. He’s here for her, and for this, in a way. He just never thought anything like this would really happen.

Sevika snickers into her drink. “Said she’d be normal about it.”

Ekko stands up so fast he bumps the table, drinks sloshing in their glasses. Better do it now. His heart’s going a mile a minute, but his legs already know where they’re headed. 

He’s absolutely going to find her right now.

Sevika watches him go with that tired, amused look of a grump who pretends not to care about young love, but soft in a way she’d never admit to. Before he’s out of earshot, she calls after him, voice flat, 

“Good luck.”

* * *

Ekko walks the hallway like it’s rigged to explode under the wrong step.

He’s not nervous, exactly. Well. Of course he is. He doesn’t get nervous about many things, but lately, when Jinx looks at him longer than before, he really has been. On edge and hopeful, about things he shouldn’t be thinking about. It’s just Jinx.

So when a blur of blue hair and a manic grin darts out from behind him, like she’s dropped from the sky, he almost jumps.

He’s trying to breathe slow, hands shoved deep in his pockets, feet planted like roots.

She looks so happy to see him he almost sighs.

Jinx rocks on her toes. “Hi!”

“Jinx,” he says carefully. “Hi.”

Then, without pause, she starts talking fast. “You know, we’ve always shared everything. Like, everything. You and me. Secrets, ideas, explosives... why not scars?”

Ekko nods like that makes complete sense. Like he’s cool. Totally normal. “Right. Of course. Makes sense.”

Jinx grabs his wrist, opens the broom closet door, and pulls him inside. He doesn’t protest, just takes a deep breath when her braid brushes his arm.

Jinx giggles, slamming the door shut behind them with her boot. Ekko stands under the one dim light overhead, in the way-too-close, or maybe wonderful, proximity. The broom closet is a lot smaller than the storage room would’ve been. He can feel the heat of her skin radiating, as she’s jiggling like a sparkling fuse. 

She grins. “You look good. Broad. Voice-y. Hot.” She says it like a checklist she’s been keeping. “Also, you didn’t die on the table. Good job!”

“I, uh… Thanks?”

“Cool. Okay. Shirt off.”

Ekko blinks. “What?”

She’s already reaching for the hem of her top. “It’s the plan! I show mine, you show yours. Fairness, vulnerability, friendship, scars, art, blah blah blah.”

Ekko knew this was coming, but he still feels completely unprepared. “Right now?” But this is how it is with Jinx half the time anyway. And he kind of likes it. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jinx smiles. It’s sweet, like she knew it would be okay. “I mean, it’s not a big deal, right? Scars are just scars. And we both have a lot of them.”

She pulls her top off.

Ekko’s mouth opens, then closes again. His heart’s crashing into his ribs. He’s never seen her like this, half-naked and still entirely herself. And she’s looking at him like she really wants to see him, too.

Then she frowns. “You’re just gonna stand there? Not fair. This was supposed to be equal.”

And then, gently, she leans forward and lifts the hem of his shirt.

It’s almost normal. Jinx has always touched him, arms around his shoulders, climbed on his back, grabbed his hand without asking. But never like this. With careful hands, she looks at him, waiting to see if she can continue.

Ekko nods.

Jinx lifts his shirt and looks. Pushes it a little higher, then goes still, just looking.

Ekko feels like his chest, scarred and new, exposed all the way through.

Jinx wants to touch. He’s lean and tight in a new way, handsome. The scars somehow make him more him, more lived-in, and even more like Ekko, who’s always been kind of hers.

But it has to be equal, in Jinx’s head. So she grabs his hand and shoves it up against her breast.

Ekko breathes deep and just stands there. Oh, gods. Like if he moves, all this will vanish. And all he can think is, he’s touching her. She is so beautiful, he almost moans. 

But Jinx doesn’t notice that, because she’s focused on him. She moves her hand and softly touches his chest, tracing the long scars with her fingertips.

“Does it hurt?” she whispers.

The way she says it, with real worry, aches in his chest. She’s chaos and light and always alive like an explosion. But right now, she’s just gently touching him, like this broom closet is the only world.

Jinx is trying to decode her own chest. Her heart’s gone weird. Not fast, but just… full. And it’s almost too much.

Her voice comes out hoarse. “Huh.”

Ekko doesn’t move, just blinks again. “Huh?”

She’s still touching him, but waves with her other hand and lets the edge of his shirt fall. “I just… I dunno. I like it. You. Like this.”

She inhales fast and deep. Confused. Steps back a little but doesn’t let go.  She looks him in the eyes, and Ekko sees her start spinning, so he just keeps still and steady. Trying to be a rock she can hold on to. 

And Jinx does hold on. She throws her arms around him, careful not to squeeze too hard and hurt him, but grabbing him like he might disappear if she doesn’t. Ekko puts his arms around her and pulls her tight against his chest. This is the first hug, after. And it feels incredible. She’s so close, like touching his heart. And Jinx calms down, the way only Ekko can help her calm down. 

Jinx breaths him in, how he smells now, and holds on tighter before finally letting go.

“Okay! That was… that. Cool. Scars seen. You hungry? I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten since… ever. Wanna see the new plans I made for a smoke bomb? Figured out how to make it even more dense, no one’ll see which way you run.”

She fumbles her top back on and Ekko scrambles to straighten his shirt. He just nods, can’t find his voice yet. And when Jinx speeds up, you just follow.

In moments, he’s trailing after her, back into the Drop, into the noise, into people living like nothing’s changed.

But his hand still tingles.

She was there with him.

That happened.

It really happened. 

♡

[owlpip]

[dawnatlas]

sorry for no art recently I've been fighting my computer and uni... here's a yuribomb wip

[chickensoup1025]

"So..." Ao3 grinned, their nerves buzzing. "There's only one bed."

Tumblr didn't waste any time in shoving them onto it, straddling their hips. "Seems there is..."

"I-" They couldn't help but notice the empty space in their two twin hotel room and the suspicious burn mark on the open floor. "Wait why is there only one-"

"Shut up and kiss me." Tumblr ran their hands over Ao3 frame, taking in and admiring it. "This is a crack fic, okay?"

Ao3 turned their head away a moment, embarrassed under the gaze and touch. "S-...stop looking at me like that. I know you don't mean it."

"Don't mean what?" They took Ao3's hand into their own and kissed up it.

"I know I've got a reputation... and, well, being in this bed right now isn't really helping that-" They couldn't help but snort. Tumblr smiled. Ao3 continued, "But with all those bookmarks... I know I've gotten big-"

"And you don't think I'd want you because you've got some extra fat on your bones?" Tumblr asked bluntly.

"I- w- some is understating it-"

"I love you, Ao3." Tumblr looked right in their eyes. "No matter how big you get, no matter how many times you even go down. You're mine."

"Oh..." An adorable red blush spread over their cheeks.

[ayadurable]

18+ MDNI . Lesbian sex, cunnilingus, fingering, power exchange, soft control, tender dom/sub, voice kink, uniform kink, holding, kissing, praise kink, “good girl”, adult age gap (reader-insert is capable in life but decides to give that up for the day).

Welcome to the Cities

GRAYSON x READER = Gentle Power Exchange ♡

SUMMARY: You’ve stepped off the ship to begin your new life in the twin cities. Your friend was supposed to meet you, but she hasn’t shown. Luckily, you meet Grayson, worn from her rough life as the sheriff of enforcers. She takes good care of you: finds you food, helps you settle in, and then she takes really good care of you…

NOTES: Slow and caring dommy smut, and falling asleep curled up together. Grayson stays clothed, but you do give a little too.

AO3 link • 4.6k words

Chapter 1: Lost

The sun is searing, even in the shade of the harbor buildings. You’ve got one huge, heavy bag, packed with what you decided was worth carrying from your old life. You stepped off the ship hours ago and waited. Loud, rough people pass too close, and you’re getting anxious.

Your friend isn’t coming. The only contact here hasn’t shown up.

You can handle yourself, you’re a grown-ass woman, from a tough enough town. But this harbor is strange and harsh, the twin cities unreliable, and you’re tired of rescuing yourself. You grit your teeth. You’ve been in far worse trouble. Like the mess that brought you here. No one’s following, no debts, a clean start. But you’ve never been here before, and it makes you queasy.

A deep and resonant voice wakes you from your thoughts. It’s edged with a subtle rasp that strokes something low in your spine.

“Evening. You seem a bit lost. Is there something I can help you with?”

You hardly understand the words, wrapped in that warm timbre, as you turn toward it.

Not a disappointment.

She’s tall and broad-shouldered beneath the authority of her enforcer’s uniform. Older, but strong in a robust way, and carries herself like someone who knows exactly where she stands in the world. No need to prove herself. She doesn’t have to.

“Sweetheart? Do you know where you’re going?”

An admiring look slips out before you can catch it. “No… but I’ll manage,” you murmur, trying for casual.

The corner of her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t let you get away with it. “You do need help. Tell me, pretty girl.”

You’re clearly older than ‘girl,’ and definitely no innocent. The top you’re wearing shows more skin than it needs to, and not by accident. But you like the way she says it, like the way she talks to you.

She looks worn, like someone who’s had a long day, or a hundred. There’s a smudge of dirt on her cuff and a bruise along her jaw, but the uniform is otherwise flawless. This city isn’t kind to enforcers. Especially not the ones who wear a badge like hers.

She lifts her brows questioningly. You’ve been staring too long. But gods, it’s not your fault she looks like that, not your fault she sounds like that.

A flicker of amusement tugs at her lips again, eyes drifting down your body like a slow, silent compliment in return, lingering at your hips, your bare waist. Her gaze flicks to your mouth before meeting your eyes again.

You bite your lip.

There’s no innocence in these cities, and she’s no exception. But the boldness feels honest. No pretense, no performance, just the game you both know how to play. She likes what she sees, and she knows you do too.

You turn slightly, trying to focus on your troubles, not her.

“My friend was supposed to meet me, but she’s not here. Her work can be unpredictable, but still… I don’t know… I need a room nearby so she can find me tomorrow. I’ve got the money, I just don’t know where to go.”

She nods slowly. “Will you let me help you find a place? …Take care of you?”

Her voice soothes you, but you don’t miss the two questions. The first one is easy. “I really do need help finding a place to stay.”

You breathe in as she waits. She’s letting you choose whether this is just kindness, or something more. What do you want this to be?

And gods, you naughty thing… You do want to surrender. You’ve already been brave enough to get here, and it’s been hard for so long. Letting her hold you up for a moment wouldn’t be weak or wrong, not if you both want it. She’s solid. And from somewhere deep inside you, something tries to loosen. Not peace, just less weight, for once.

You look down, thinking, and she doesn’t rush you. But the decision isn’t hard with the flutter low in your belly. Tomorrow, you’ll take it all back. The stress of life, difficult choices, the fight to survive. You’ll do it alone again. But tonight, just for a moment, you want to be held and let someone else steady you. She’s here, and if you keep your eyes on hers, maybe you can give in a little.

Her gaze is calm as you give your answer the way she must want it. Offered, certain, and willing. And a little breathless.

“And I am in need of care.”

Her smile stays composed, but there’s more focus in her eyes. Like she’s locking in now that you’ve said yes. And she steps a little closer. Just close enough that you feel her presence settle around you.

“Baby girl, call me Grayson.”

No titles. Just her name.

You smile softly.

“Grayson.”

And breath by breath, you let your usual mustered confidence fall away, getting ready to lean into her.

But Grayson just picks up your bag and starts walking. You have no choice but to follow. She doesn’t touch you, only stays close. Her strong, steady arm is right there, near enough to reach, and for a long moment, you don’t touch either, but just ache, being that close. She’s so there. Maybe she’s testing you.

Carefully, you reach out and brush the sturdy fabric of her uniform sleeve. Grayson glances at you with a teasing twinkle that leaves you a little dizzy. So you slip your hand around her forearm, like it’s nothing. But of course it isn’t nothing. It’s everything. You’re holding on. Letting her lead.

And you imagine that if she weren’t carrying your bag, she’d pat your hand where it rests.

“Have you eaten?” Grayson asks. Her voice is grounding, not really a question, like she already knows the answer.

Caught off guard, you blink. You hadn’t thought about it, too wrapped up in waiting, in managing, but now that she’s said it, the hunger hits. You’re starving.

Grayson of course sees it. “Thought so,” she says, already turning down a quieter side street. “Come on. We’ll get you something decent to eat before anything else.”

You follow. There’s no room to argue, and honestly, you don’t want to. This is what you need. To be taken care of.

* * *

The café is tucked away. It’s quiet and cozy, and in the air there’s fresh bread, strong tea, and sweet spices. The owner greets Grayson with a knowing nod. This is her city. 

Grayson orders for both of you without hesitation, glancing your way, not really asking, just confirming what she already knows will be fine.

You nod, not wanting to question it. It’s nice, not having to figure out what’s good or think too hard about what you want.

And now you know exactly what she is. The look and feel of her. The way she leans down to hear what you think you need, just to decide for you. She wants to take care of you as much as you want her to. 

You try not to think about what you’re doing. Right off the ship. But changing cities doesn’t change you, and she’s unusually unshakable. It makes you want to fall.

“You’ll feel better after this,” she says, taking the seat across from you. And, oh, the way she says that like something absolute, something you’re just meant to accept.

You sink into your sandwich to keep your hands busy, mumbling, “Thank you,” softer than you meant.

Grayson smiles, tearing her bread. “What brings you to the cities, besides the missing friend?”

You swallow. “I work with gear. Combat gear. Design, repairs, special mods. Had a business back home before…” You trail off. She doesn’t need the whole story yet.

She lifts a brow, approving. “Useful work. This place eats that up. If it doesn’t eat you first.”

You smirk. “I’m not easy to chew.”

Grayson chuckles, low and scratchy. “You picked a hell of a time to show up. It’s been rough lately. But then again, it often is. These cities together like this… A couple of weeks of really ugly messes, and the last few days have been the worst of it.” 

She’s tired. It wears her down, like she needs a break from life just as much as you do. You can be that for her.

Glancing at the bruise along her jaw you say, “Looks like a hard job.”

She shrugs, but it’s heavy. “Comes with the badge. I didn’t use to mind. Thought I’d do this until I dropped. But lately… I don’t know.  Just wish the cities would take a breath sometimes.”

You eye her uniform, the shoulder armor. It’s beautifully and well made. You want to inspect the protective layers beneath, but the fact that she needs it? That unsettles you. What kind of place is this?

Without thinking, you reach out and touch the back of her hand where it rests on the table. Grayson stills. You get a glimpse of something vulnerable in her, but it only makes her feel more real, safer. You smile, and she turns her large hand to hold yours, thumb brushing across your skin.

“Ready to go find you a place for the night?”

You squeeze her hand and nod.

* * *

As you leave the café, you take her arm again. It means more now, but somehow, it’s not enough. You stop walking, unsure what’s wrong with you, what you need.

You look at Grayson. She  sets your bag down, because she already knows.

Slowly, she touches your cheek, your lower lip. Her other arm wraps steadily around your waist, waiting. When you lean in, press close, she lifts your chin and kisses you.

It’s a rush you don’t expect. Maybe it’s the way she pulls you out of the world, holds you in just this moment, maybe that’s what gives her power. But deep down you know it’s because she can take care of you. Take care of anything.

Her mouth is gentle on yours. The kiss is sure and patient, and you open to her without thinking. She feels you melt, the way you cling, the way you give in, and pulls you closer.

One hand settles behind your neck, fingers soft and firm, holding you here. The other drifts lower, and her wide palm finds the base of your spine, anchoring you with the quiet weight of certain control.

Grayson kisses you like she already knows you’ll fall apart for her. She devours you carefully, without hurry, knowing just how much to take. Just enough to leave you trembling.

Your thoughts scatter. There’s only her. Her strong arms. Her soft mouth. The way your body yields so perfectly into hers.

When she finally pulls back, it’s not all calm. Her breath stutters against your cheek, and she tenses for a moment, like you just loosened something in her. She looks at you like she just found something she didn’t foresee.

Then she leans in, her voice charming at your ear, and just the right kind of suggestive. “You like giving in, don’t you? Come on. Let’s get you settled.”

You shiver and hum, barely there.

She picks up your bag again, but this time, her hand finds yours. And this time, she’s the one who holds on.

You feel like Grayson just caught you mid-fall.

* * *

The harbor hotel lobby is quiet, with dim lighting and worn velvet chairs. It’s not fancy, but it feels safe. The woman at the desk is polite and welcoming.

Grayson moves like she belongs here, but you are certain now she belongs everywhere in this city.

“Room,” she says. You wonder if the woman behind the desk feels her voice like you do, humming inside you, the way it settles low.

She straightens at once. “Of course. Name?”

Grayson turns to you. You lean on her arm. She’s still holding your hand, so you squeeze and nod, giving silent permission.

She turns back. “For two.”

The words travel through you like heat.  Your breath catches, and she hears it. Her shoulders tense, like keeping herself from doing more.

The woman doesn’t ask questions. Just hands over the key with a courteous smile. Grayson thanks her, then picks up your bag again. Grip on your hand tightens slightly as she pulls you toward the stairs.

* * *

Chapter 2: Touch Me

Grayson opens the door but then just stands there, hand still on the handle, watching you walk into the room. You pause and realize that in her honorable way, she might not come in unless you ask her to. What if she doesn’t come in at all? The thought cuts cold through your want.

So, you walk back to the door and carefully touch the collar of her jacket. Lifting your gaze to meet hers you brush fingertips along the lapel of the uniform, then slightly tug it. 

Your voice wavers. “Grayson, please… touch me.”

The corner of her lip lifts up and her eyes crinkle as she draws a slow deep breath. Her hand wraps around your wrist, just to hold it against her chest, like she’s saying she heard you. The door clicks shut behind her.

She touches your jaw, thumb brushing lightly, fingers trailing the curve of your throat, watching you need her.

Then she guides you to hold on to her, cling to her shoulders. You feel her want in her movements. It’s quiet and restrained, but undeniably there, as she pulls you from your waist against her. She feels so solid, and at the same time hard and soft against you.

“I’ll touch you,” she says low, kissing you, “as much as you want.”

You exhale in such relief that she smiles, and the next kiss is deeper, claiming not just your mouth, but you. Tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking to be let in, and your spine tingles as you do.

One hand trails down your side, until she holds you at your lower back, fingers spread wide, keeping you close. The other slips into your hair, holds you in place, and you melt into that control.

Her mouth moves lightly along your jaw. You tilt your head to give her room, and a soft whine escapes from your throat.

She hums and nuzzles beneath your ear, breathes you in, as her fingers slide up your back, under your top, like testing you.

Pushing into her, you try to move her, to do something more, to hurry her. But she doesn’t hurry. You feel her grin against your neck, amused by your impatience, as she takes her time taking your top off, pulling it over your head. 

You try not to look too eager when you help your arms out of the short sleeves. She sets it on the couch next to you.

Stepping back a little she looks at you, thumb brushing across your nipple. “You’re so beautiful in my hands.”

She captures your mouth again, then starts kissing lower. There’s hurry in it now, maybe for your sake. Restraint breaking on your behalf.

Sitting down on the couch, she pulls you to stand between her knees, mapping her way down your body, taking time at your breasts. You sink your fingers into the shorter hairs at the nape of her neck as her tongue circles, then soft lips on your nipple, as her hands move to the waistband of your pants.  You fist her hair lightly when she opens the front.

Then she looks up at you. Lips parted, your answering gaze is all she needs to be sure. She slides your pants down and you step off them. 

Your underwear is the only thing left as she rises to stand, hands tracing the lines of your body.

You reach to brush along the edges of her uniform jacket. There is so much armor on it. It looks so handsome on her, but you need it off. 

She unbuckles the heavy belt herself and places it on the couch. You open the metal clasps of her jacket, fingers trembling and fumbling. She doesn’t rush you, but watches you, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with you wanting her, if she’s allowed to have that.

Sliding your hands beneath the open jacket, your palms smooth over the white shirt. Between the jacket and her robust strength there is safety. 

Your arms wind around her middle, into the soft warmth, like trying to fit inside the jacket with her. She holds her breath and kisses the top of your head, wraps her arms around you and closes her eyes for a moment. 

Then she shrugs out of the jacket and drapes it across the back of the couch. 

Keeping palms flat on her belly, you watch her turn her sleeves up between you with efficient movements. Strong hands and arms used to handling weapons and criminals, that surely know how to hold someone still just right.

She pulls you with her backing toward the bed, sits at the edge, and draws into her lap. You straddle her, knees against the mattress. Strong thighs are under yours, legs spread wide, in a stance for stability. Your bare chest is against the crisp fabric of her shirt, her breath hot on your neck.

And then she tugs you further in, right against her, gripping your hips. And thank gods, you’re still in your underwear, because without that last scrap of fabric, you’d be soaking the front of her trousers. A low grunt as she feels the heat of you so close.

And then, without meaning to, or maybe because you mean to, you rock your hips against her.

It sends a pulse through both of you. Your gasp is airy, her groan low.

Then she gives up some restraint. Says nothing and just moves.

Hands slide under your thighs, and in one seamless shift, she lifts you off her lap.

You grab on, legs wrapping around her. But she wouldn’t drop you. On her knees, she places you in the middle of the bed. Lays you down like you belong there. Belong to her.

Your back to the bed, Grayson over you, you feel content, breathing her scent in, before remembering your need. It hits like a wave. But Grayson is ahead of you, thigh pushing between yours, pressing against your core. 

You rock your hips up gently and she lets you have your way, watching your ache, before pressing herself against you. The sensation of her weight ripples through your body.

But she doesn’t move, only whispers, “Let’s not hurry this.” 

You give a small sound of protest. “Please, Grayson…” 

She chuckles low, one hand already finding its way down your body. When you whine for more, she follows the line lower. Kissing your throat, sucking your nipple, mouthing your belly. You lift toward her, but she doesn’t go straight to where you need her, lips brushing your hip, your thigh. You can’t wait much longer.

Your panties are damp and show just how much she affects you. She hums, then curls her fingers around the waistband and pulls them off. 

Her gaze drags slowly from your legs to your sex, your stomach, your chest, and finally, to your face. You see she likes it. Still, you feel a little self-concious and involuntarily shift. Catching it, she leans down to kiss your hip again,

“Shh, you’re perfect.” And something in her sure voice makes you believe her.

Hands return, delicately touching first, then pressing your thighs wider. Nothing in you resists opening up to her. She settles there, arms wrapping beneath your thighs. One hand resting on your belly, the other keeping your thigh tight to her shoulder.

Her mouth touches the crease of your thigh, then the other. Then again, but with her tongue, until you soften completely in her arms.

And finally, no more detours.

Flat tongue, light, slow stroke, all along your folds.

You gasp, hips twitching, and grasp her hand on your abdomen. Holding you firmly open, she groans into you. The sound vibrates through your skin.

No flicking or teasing. She presses her tongue softly at first, then in firm, long stripes, sinking between your folds until you’re clutching her hand.

Against your skin, it’s warm and perfectly clear. “Stay still, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You try your best to stay still for her, as that tongue carefully learns you. 

And at last, your clit. She doesn’t just lick one way, she tries to find what you like. The tip of her tongue dragging, swiping different directions, mouth surrounding and gently sucking, until she finds your way. You pant and whimper, let her hear everything, moans starting to tremble, until she finds the rhythm that makes your hips lift and your whole body shake. 

Her eyes don’t leave your face, like she’s not just devouring your body, but everything you’re giving her, your surrender. She grabs tight around both your thighs and holds you still, tongue never faltering.

“Grayson…” you whisper, just before you come, sudden and unbounded. She holds you through it. Her mouth doesn’t leave you. Not until you’re done. Not until you tug her up to you.

She pulls you into her arms, and you hold on tight, tucking your face into her shoulder, heart still pounding.

One hand cups the back of your head, lips brushing your temple. Her voice is husky in your ear. 

“Good girl. You did so good for me. Just like I wanted you.” 

You shudder as she whispers, “Let’s not end yet.”

Her hand slides down, and somehow, you still want more. She explores you first, tracing the slick between your folds with her strong fingers, then gently presses one in. Then two, deep and assured. You arch into it, breath catching.

She shifts lower, just enough to sink them to the knuckle and curl just right. Her hands don’t hesitate and you pant short, little breaths. 

A soft kiss at your jaw. “So sweet. So open.” Pressing to that spot inside on every stroke. You whine and bury your face in her hair. She holds you close. Lets you hide for a moment. Lets you feel her steady.

But then, still low but firmer now, “Look at me.”

You don’t move, eyes closed, thoughts only on feeling.

“Baby,” she murmurs, fingers still moving inside you, “let me see you.” The hand at your back presses just slightly. A nudge.

She doesn’t just want to give you this. She wants to share it. To watch you take it. To witness what it does to you.

“Sweet thing…” Her lips brush your jaw, coaxing you back. You turn, breathing hard. And gods, the way she looks at you, like you’re the only thing she wants to see.

Her thumb brushes gently over your clit, syncing with the curl of her fingers inside you. You’re so close.

Her gravelly voice sinks into you. 

“That’s it. Just let it happen.”

Her rhythm never falters. Looking into her sure eyes, you hold on to her.

“There she is…” she murmurs. “Let me feel you fall apart for me.”

And you do fall apart for her. Whimpering her name again.

When you come, it’s not just her fingers, or her gaze, or her heavy body steady against you, it’s also her deep voice,

“That’s it. My girl. Good girl.”

Hips trembling, thighs shaking, your eyes blur, but you keep looking at her. Sobbing, maybe. Moaning her name. You don’t know. But she does, because she watches you the whole time, fingers working, holding you together through it.

“You’re doing so good, darling”

And when your body stills, she cradles your head to her neck. Her hand stays between your thighs, not inside or moving anymore, just resting there.

You’re curled against her as your breathing evens. Her solid body surrounds you, and you feel so safe and wanted, cared for. 

She hums softly.

You’re not sure how to offer it, but you want to give something back. To touch her, if she wants it.

So, gingerly, your hand trails down. Across her stomach, still covered by her shirt. Then lower, to the waistband of her trousers.

Your fingers dip there, offering to give.

Turning your face from her neck you peek up at her, a silent question.

She exhales slowly through her nose. Looks into your eyes like she’s searching for something. Then the arm around your back tightens, nudges, gives permission.

So you go further. Warmth. Heat. Wet. All because of you.

She moans quietly into your hair.

You find her with your fingers. She’s tense, but bit by bit, she relaxes into your touch. She doesn’t guide you, doesn’t speak. Just holds you, face buried in your hair, breath stuttering at your ear.

You worry whether you’re doing it right for her, fingers moving carefully. She doesn’t buck or writhe. But when she presses in, hips pushing subtly into your hand, you start to feel more confident, and quicken your pace.

You feel her start to shake before she makes a sound.

And when she comes, she comes into your hand like she can’t help it. A broken groan. Arms lock around you, holding you to her chest as her body tenses, then shudders apart. For a moment, she is yours.

She doesn’t let go. Even when her breath steadies. Even when your hand stills and slips back up to her waist. She just holds you there, tight in her arms, mouth pressed to your temple.

Her voice, when it comes, is ragged. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum to her, glad to have taken care of her too.

She feels close, not just in body, but in everything.

Grayson shifts first. One hand smooths up your back, the other slides beneath your thigh as she adjusts you, so you’re both comfortable, your weight resting fully against her.

A rumble from her chest. “You okay?”

You nod against her. “Yeah… Are you?”

She exhales and rests her head against yours.

“Now I am.”

Eventually, your breaths even together. Your eyes flutter shut.

Just before you drift to sleep, she murmurs, “Baby girl.”

You whisper back, “Grayson.”

Then, silence.

And sleep.

* * *

That’s how you wake the next morning. Your hand resting over her belly, snuggled up against her.

Voices drift in from outside, and you can recognize one of them. You don’t want to move, but life is waiting, and it’s time to return to it.

Grayson watches as you peek out the window, wrapped in a blanket. To your relief, it’s your friend chatting with the hotel concierge. She found you.

You crack the window open, call to her and wave, promising to come down once you’re dressed. She gets the hint not to come up, and makes a questioning gesture at the blanket you’re wearing, and laughs. You bite your lip and shut the window quickly.

Grayson is already up, standing in the middle of the room, pulling on her uniform jacket. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles wide, clearly well-rested.

You walk over, uncertain, but she’s as calm and steady as ever. She pulls you close and leans down to kiss you.

Then says in her grounding voice, maybe as much to herself as to you,

“You’re going to be alright now.”

And you know you will be.

♡

[miracleboylene]

OH MY GOSH, SELE! I have a silly little request for you from an Australian lass (me) who's lived in fearful awe of this creature since she was educated on it in childhood...

The irukandji jellyfish...

1cm bell, long-ass tentacles, actively hunts, costs the government $3 billion each year in management and medical, with a sting it can fire out from its tentacles AND bell which can cause an apocalyptic sense of doom and fatal brain haemorrhages if you don't get to hospital in half an hour (it's sting symptoms show in 20mins at the minimum ffs) and is 100x more potent than a cobra as it is one of the most venomous jellies in the world!!!

I will hand it reverently to Sevika in a mason jar with a ribbon and shell tied around the rim as a gift. I would just LOVE to see her reaction!!!

one thing marine biologist sevika is gonna do is ✨stress her interns out✨

featuring Vi and also Ran this time!

au taglist:

@lilredbird101

@lanternfeather

[maezanilla]

I miss her……..

[interneteclipse]

SO. Grayson 🤍

she's my american dream you don't get it. so sad she didn't get a flashback

[arcane-aesthetics]

[abitohoney]

Lessons in BDSM

Chapter 1 of 4 - Curiosity

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4

AO3 link

Sevika x f!reader x Ran

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags:  Established Relationship, Humor, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Threesome, Smut, Porn with Feelings, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, Dom Ran, Sub Reader, Tension, Sexual Tension, just lots of tension, Safewords, Teasing, Bondage, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Impact Play, Consent, Begging, Praise Kink, mild degradation kink, Vaginal Fingering, Aftercare, Fluff, more tags will be added (to cover the entier series)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary:  They say curiosity killed the cat. Well, you may not be a cat, but your curiosity might just lead to something far worse than death.

Or

Curious to see what fun tricks and toys Ran has up their sleeves, you manage to convince a very possessive Sevika to bring a very flirty Ran to the bedroom for a few lessons in BDSM. What could possibly go wrong?

AN: Already started on AO3, but posting the existing chapters here in anticipation of me FINALLY releasing the 3rd chapter later this week.

The air in the Last Drop was thicker than usual. Cigar smoke and shimmer vapor created a smog so dense it blurred your vision of anything beyond a few feet in front of you.

You sat at the bar with Ran, sipping on drink number... you weren't even sure. You'd lost track after your second. Apparently that night Theiram had decided to be quite generous with the liquor. Or at least yours, as Ran seemed to be perfectly cool as a cucumber- as always.

"So besides plugs, what other stuff do you have for the bedroom?" You blurted out, oblivious to the awkward looks from both Theiram and the random patron beside you.

The corner of Ran's mouth curled into a smirk. "Quite a lot."

"Like what?" You asked with genuine curiosity.

Ran leaned towards you and you leaned in as well. "Like paddles, clamps, restraints, knives-"

You sat up, eyes wide. "Knives?!"

Smirk still in place, Ran nodded. They bent down, eyes on yours as they slipped a hand down the inside one of your boots to pull out a dagger.

You watched, transfixed, as Ran twirled it between their fingers several times before suddenly gripping it by the handle and pressing the blade to your throat.

You froze, breath held, You didn't dare swallow.

Ran's smirk widened, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. They ran the tip of the blade along the soft flesh beneath your chin.

Pupils blown wide, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat when Ran finally pulled the dagger away.

They slipped it back inside your boot and sat up, silently waiting for you to speak.

"So what exactly do you do with that?" You asked in awe.

"Could show you," Ran offered. "Anything you want."

"I don't think Sevika would like that."

"She could watch. Participate. Maybe learn a thing or two," Ran added.

You bit your bottom lip, the offer tempting. Curiosity and inebriation affected your better judgment.

"I'm not so sure she'd be game for that either, but…" you trailed off, seriously considering Ran's proposition.

"Well now's your chance to ask her."

"Wha-" your question stalled as you turned to peer at whatever Ran was looking at over your shoulder, only to find Sevika standing there.

"Ask me what?" She drawled, eyes drifting suspiciously between you and Ran.

"Princess has something to ask you," Ran answered with an impish grin.

Your heart sank into your stomach and suddenly the air became downright suffocating.

Sevika raised a single brow, then turned to you, gray eyes locked onto yours in obvious suspicion.

"Uhm- I-" you stammered, suddenly feeling entirely too sober for this conversation. "Can- can we talk in private?"

Sevika's narrowed gaze drifted to Ran's still smirking face, then back to your nervous one. "C'mon," she growled as she grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards the restroom.

The moment you two were inside, Sevika kicked out two poor unsuspecting women chatting by one of the sinks with a gruff, "Get out."

The women's gazes flicked between Sevika's angry expression and her metal fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist before scurrying out the door.

Sevika released your arm, then spun to face you, towering over you. "Spill it, Princess ,"

"Why are you so mad?" You demanded, though your tone gave away just how nervous you were.

"I can't ever trust you two alone. Especially not when drinks are involved."

"It's nothing bad!" You insisted.

Sevika deadpanned.

"We just- Ran and I were talking about-" you stammered. No matter how you played the conversation out in your head, there was no nice way to get it out. So you just jumped straight to the finale. "I want a threesome with Ran!"

Sevika's brows damn near flew right off her forehead. "You what?" She asked, taking a step closer.

Oh shit.

"Well, not really a- a threesome. M-More like a- uhm- a lesson. From Ran."

"A lesson?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna elaborate?"

"A- A lesson- in the bedroom."

Sevika arched a single brow. "In the bedroom?"

You nodded slowly.

"You think I need lessons in the bedroom?"

Your eyes went wide. "No! I- I didn't mean it like that. It's just- Ran and I were talking about what types of things they use in the bedroom and-" You paused your nervous rambling for a moment, attempting to clear the lump that had formed in your throat. Sevika's heated gaze only served to make your explanation more difficult.

"And?" Sevika pushed, her patience clearly running lower and lower by the second.

You averted your eyes from hers. "And they offered to show me- to show us- some of the things they use and- and how to use them."

"So Ran put you up to this?"

Your eyes darted back to hers. "No! Not at all. They just offered. No pressure or anything. I- I'm just genuinely curious, but I- want you with me of course. If- if you're okay with it."

Sevika said nothing, just regarded you with that damn unreadable, stoic expression of hers. She looked irritated. Probably was, but there was always something else behind that look. You just didn't know what.

"This is something you really want?" She finally asked.

Your heart leapt. Was she really considering it?

"Yes," you replied softly.

Then she was the one to look away, and with a heavy sigh. "Fine."

You were about to thank her, but then she turned back to you again, eyes narrowed. "But Ran does not directly touch you. No kissing, no touching your breasts, no touching your cunt. They want to use their stupid toys on you, fine, but no hands and no mouth."

"Of course!" You agreed immediately. "Understood."

Sevika released another deep sigh, nostrils flaring.

Guilt started to really weigh heavy when her demands finally sank in. She was acting… jealous?  Possessive? Whatever it was, she clearly didn't want to share you. Despite how flattering that was, you didn't want her to think you weren't satisfied with her. Because you most certainly were very satisfied.

Hesitantly, you stepped closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head above her chest. “You don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m very satisfied with you. This is just for my curiosity.”

You tilted your head back, peering up at Sevika. She was watching you from down her pronounced nose, eyes narrowed.

“I said fine.”

Her tone sounded anything but fine, but you weren’t about to push it any further. “Thank you,” you said softly before stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss her scarred cheek.

She slipped her prosthetic hand behind your back, hesitating for a moment before gently guiding you back out of the bathroom.

The moment you two exited, it was as if the smoke and vapors had cleared a path straight to where Ran sat at the bar. Sevika and Ran made eye contact and then the next thing you knew, Sevika had spun you around and pulled you against her body. Your hands flew up to her chest to brace yourself. Her human hand wrapped around your throat, just beneath your chin, forcing your head to tilt back. The gasp that pulled from your throat melted into a soft moan when Sevika’s lips crashed into yours. Her tongue probed at your lips, to which you immediately granted her access. She damn near shoved it down your throat. Her metal hand fell to grasp your ass, squeezing it possessively. She pressed her knee between your legs, using her grip on your ass to drag you along it.

You released another moan, only for it to be swallowed by her mouth messily moving against yours.

When she finally broke the kiss, you were left stunned. Stunned and horny as high hell. That was not typical behavior of hers. Not in public at least.

You peered up at her through half-lidded eyes. Gods the things she did to you with just a fucking kiss. If she’d asked you to get on your knees right there in front of everyone you gladly would have.

Then you saw her eyes dart back over to where you knew Ran sat at the bar. Her brows furrowed, eyes narrowed threateningly.

Fuuuuuck.

She was being so goddam possessive.

That sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your lower half, damn near taking you out at the knees.

Her intense gaze dropped back to you. “Be back at our place in half an hour.”

“O-Okay,” you stammered.

She gave your ass one more hard squeeze before storming off towards the back of the bar.

Oh boy.

You stood there for a moment in shock, sweat already forming around your hairline. After collecting as much of your sanity and ability to think, you slowly made your way back to Ran.

Ran, still sipping on their drink, watched you with an impish grin and a sparkle in their eyes.

“How’d it go?” they asked.

You blinked a few times. “Uh… She agreed.”

Ran arched a brow.

“Under some specific conditions.”

Ran’s lips pulled higher.

“You can’t- uhm- kiss or touch me. Directly. No hands. Just your ‘toys’.”

And for the first time ever in the history of your friendship- or whatever the fuck you two had- Ran threw their head back and released the most startling belly laugh.

God, this was going to be interesting.

Yeah.

Interesting.

next chapter >

[ayadurable]

18+ MDNI . Lesbian sex in a peep show booth, voyerism, mutual masturbation, fingering, hard fingerfucking, dom top Sevika but also power bottom Sevika, they/them character, everyone is afab.

The Showbox

SEVIKA x RAN = friends-with-benefits and more ♡

SUMMARY: Ran drags Sevika into a grimy little peep show, thinking she’ll enjoy the view. She does, with Ran’s handsy assistance. And then she takes care of Ran too.

NOTES: Pure filth that turns from seedy to intimate. Emotional smut with even a touch of Sevika-style aftercare. ♡

A03 link • 2.4k words

Zaun’s nights never go quiet. Neon flickers, steam hisses, boots hit the ground steady. Sevika’s pace is unbothered. Ran’s is loose-limbed and swaggering. They’re a little drunk. The world spins just enough to feel fun, not fucked.

Ran nudges Sevika. “C’mon,” shoulder bumping her side. “Let’s look at something pretty.”

“You’ve got a mirror at home,” Sevika mutters.

Ran snorts, grabs her sleeve, and drags her in under a sign that says Showbox.

The place is seedy. Posters of tits and heels are peeling off the walls, and everything stinks of syrupy perfume. It’s a sleazy little peep show joint. Booths behind curtains, coins, glass.

They drop into a booth together, barely wide enough to sit side by side. Ran slouches low, legs spread like they own the place, already sliding coins into the slot. Sevika leans back, arms folded. In the small space, her presence is heavier than the stale air.

The glass hums on. Girls move slowly on the other side. Pink lights, glitter, and sweat.

Sevika casually knocks on the glass.

One of the girls looks up. The glass should be one-way, but it clearly isn’t. She smiles when she recognizes Sevika and walks over, bare and confident. Then she turns and bends low. Her ass spreads lush against the glass, pussy open and shining where it smears the pane.

Ran chuckles. “Holy shit. Do they always do that for you?”

Sevika doesn’t answer. Just shifts her jaw like it’s nothing, like this happens all the time.

Because it does.

The girl flips onto her back, legs up the glass, fingers slow and light between her thighs, putting on a show just for them. She quickly glances at Sevika like she knows exactly who’s watching, then looks away like she’s supposed to.

Ran groans. “You’ve got fans.”

Sevika opens her pants like it’s nothing new. She’s smug and laid-back, like she’s done this a hundred times.

Ran glances over, eyes flicking to her hand sliding into her pants.

“You really just gonna…?” They grin.

Sevika doesn’t answer. She never does when she’s already doing it.

Ran groans softly and shifts in their seat, acting tough, but heat pooling too fast to ignore. They drag their hand down the front of their pants, cocky voice gone a little huskier. “You’re such a fuckin’ show-off.”

Sevika huffs. “You’re the one that brought me here.”

“Yeah, ’cause I knew you’d act like this.” Ran says, hand now dipping lower. “Like it’s no big deal that she’s creaming on the glass for you.”

“She does good work,” Sevika says dryly.

Ran chortles. “Gods. You’re unreal.”

The glass fogs under the girl’s thighs. She spreads herself wider, fingers slipping between her folds now.

Sevika strokes herself slow and lazy, like this is a smoke break.

Ran pretends to only look at the girl, but they keep glancing at Sevika’s hand, the rhythm of it, the calm control in the way she touches herself. Their own finger making fidgety circles.

“You gonna come before me?” they tease. “Or you making this a contest?”

Sevika grunts. “No contest.”

Ran’s wrist is jerking just a little faster. “Fuck, that’s hot.” Unclear if they mean Sevika or the girl behind the glass. Their breath is uneven now, hand slowing again, trying not to come too fast, as their eyes keep dragging back to Sevika.

The leisurely way her fingers stroke. The angle of her wrist. The steady pressure of her body next to them, like nothing about this could rattle her. Ran bites their lip, watching her like they’re trying not to beg.

Sevika smirks, but doesn’t look over, just pulls her hand back out of her pants. Then spreads her thighs a little wider, knee knocking into Ran’s leg deliberately.

Ran stills.

Sevika finally glances at them, calm as ever. Her voice is gruff. “You gonna watch, or you gonna do something about it?”

Ran swallows. “Yeah?”

A small lift of Sevika’s chin, that smirk deepening, “You wanted a show.”

Ran shakily exhales, “Fuck.”

They shift, turning toward her in the cramped booth, hand inching over Sevika’s thigh. Worshipful without meaning to.

Sevika doesn’t move, doesn’t stop them, so Ran goes on. Warm hand slips inside Sevika’s pants, the metal one braces on her hip.

Their fingers find her slick and hot, and Ran holds off a moan. Sevika’s breath barely stutters.

The girl on the other side of the glass keeps putting on her show as Ran’s hand starts careful. Sevika exhales. She doesn’t close her eyes. Doesn’t let herself lean back.

She watches Ran.

Watches how they work their hand slowly, fingers focused. Ran keeps glancing up at her, lips parted like they want to say something but can’t get the words out.

Sevika lets her thighs spread just a little wider, metal arm resting easy over the back of the booth.

Ran’s voice quivers, “You’re so fucking wet…”

Sevika huffs. “You gonna keep talking, or do something about it?”

Ran swears under their breath, and their hand starts to move for real.

A low groan escapes Sevika. She grabs the back of Ran’s neck, pulling them close, pressing their cheek down to her chest. Ran closes their eyes, face against her breast under the rough leather of the armored vest. Their fingers slip and glide through her heat, then center on her clit. Two fingers rolling over it.

Sevika starts to grind down on their hand, panting now, the weight of her body shifting.

Ran gets brash, giving her just enough pressure to make her shudder but not fall.

Sevika grips Ran’s neck harder. Ran tries to tease her, to make this last longer, jerking her off now with fingers on either side of her clit. They’ve touched her like this before, but tonight something’s different.

Her hips are chasing it. Grinding hard, like there’s something she can’t quite reach. And Ran can feel it. That edge of frustration, that need. It prickles in their spine when she growls low in her throat.

Then she does something new.

Sevika grabs their wrist, but not to stop them. To guide them.

There is no warning. 

She roughly shoves Ran’s hand further down, then curls her hips forward and forces their two fingers inside her.

No words. Just a raw, guttural sound and a full-body jolt like she needed it more than air.

Ran freezes from the weight of it.

They’re inside her.

For the first time.

Their breath catches, then shudders out. Grateful they’re not up against an alley wall this time, because their legs might give out.

They flex their fingers slowly. In so deep. Feeling how open she is around them. How hot. How soft.

Maybe the only place soft in her.

Sevika’s breaths come out deep and broken. Her metal arm seizes their hair, yanking their face harder into her chest.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

Ran doesn’t. Can’t.

All they can do is think, they’d do this for her any time. Even if they never get anything more than alleys and showboxes. Even if they’re nothing but her hand.

They press in deeper, curl their fingers until she moans, working hard now, hand wet from her slick. Sevika’s buckling, gasping, every muscle strung tight.

She’s not performing for Ran. She’s not putting on a show. She’s taking, raw and real. And Ran wants to give her all of it.

Sevika fists their hair, yanking rough enough to make them wince.

“Harder,” she growls.

Ran gasps, then obeys, pressing their palm down on her clit, thrusting as deep and hard as they can. The fingers buried inside her squelching with every move.

They try to say it cocky, like they’re in control, but it comes out almost begging.

“That’s it, big girl. Let me make you feel good.”

Sevika snarls.

Her hips jerk, pushing hard down onto Ran’s hand like it’s not enough, like she needs more, deeper, harder, now.

Ran holds their ground, wrist straining, fingers pounding to the knuckle, palm tight against her clit.

“Come on,” they murmur, voice cracking with it, “give it to me.”

And Sevika does.

Her hips lock. Her body shudders. She comes hard and rough, still grinding down on Ran’s hand and chasing it to the very end.

The sound is a ragged half-growl, half-moan, as she swears, clenches around their fingers, thighs flexing hard. Her body leans forward, and Ran presses back, riding every last wave of it with her.

After, Ran can barely breathe. Can’t move. Their hand still deep inside her, fingers caught in the aftershocks. Holding her. Wrist throbbing, face buried against her chest, dizzy with how hard she just came.

Sevika’s breath stutters, then drags in. Her grip on their hair loosens, but she doesn’t let go, just shifts her hips with a soft, involuntary move. Her voice is gravel when it lands.

“…fuck.”

Ran feels the thump of her heartbeat under the leather. They lightly flex their fingers, feeling the last flutter of her muscles. Then slowly, slowly, they pull out, dragging their soaked, trembling hand free.

They grin into her chest before lifting up. Press a soft, smug kiss just above the line of her vest.

“You’re welcome,” they murmur, cocky again. Trying not to sound breathless, but utterly failing.

Sevika lets out a long exhale.

Ran isn’t sure when, but the coins have run out and the window has gone dark. It’s just the two of them in the dim light.

Then, without a word, Sevika shifts. One hand slides to Ran’s hip. The other grips under their thigh.

“Hey…” Ran starts, surprised but not pulling back.

Sevika lifts them smoothly, turning their body in the tight booth. She doesn’t throw them or wrestle or force. She unhurriedly guides until Ran’s straddling her lap, back pressed to her chest, knees spread over Sevika’s thighs.

“Comfortable?” Sevika asks, voice still graveled.

Ran nods, heart thudding. “You’re gonna make it about me now?”

Sevika huffs a soft laugh into their shoulder. Her metal hand braces against their thigh calmly. The other slides warmly across their stomach.

“I’m not the only one who looked good tonight.”

Her palm presses low and Ran whispers, “Fuck.”

Sevika kisses their neck, then bites softly. “You got me good. Now it’s your turn.”

Her hand slips under their briefs.

She doesn’t tease or rush. She touches Ran like she knows them, like she’s not proving anything. For once, this isn’t really about power.

Eyes fluttering Ran lets their head fall back onto her shoulder.

And Sevika just keeps touching. She doesn’t say anything, but smiles against Ran’s shoulder when she finds them so wet, it’s like they already came in their pants.

Ran’s hips twitch when Sevika’s hand glides lower. Their hand shoots down fast, gripping her wrist.

But Sevika’s already there. She knows what they need, and what not. She isn’t trying to fuck them like she just got fucked. She’s just gathering slick to keep her coarse fingers wet.

Her fingers slide back up, circling slow over their swollen clit.

Ran exhales hard, head tipping back onto her shoulder. Their body arches into the rhythm.

“You gonna make me beg, big girl?” they ask, half-mocking, half-strained.

Sevika’s mouth brushes under their ear. “No,” she murmurs. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

Ran shivers. They soften against her chest, shoulders loose now, thighs spread open, letting her have them.

Sevika feels the weight of the trust. Presses her mouth to their ear and grunts an approval.

“Good boy.”

Ran moans quietly, forgetting to be brash for a moment. Their hips begin to rock, chasing the rhythm she sets.

Sevika adjusts her metal arm across Ran’s ribs to hold them better, and just keeps steadily going with the unrelenting care of her fingers, like it’s her job now. She doesn’t change much how she brushes over their clit, doesn’t tease, just picks up speed a little, keeping Ran right where she wants them, thighs trembling, holding to her arms.

Ran’s breath stutters, but they grin through it.

“You getting soft on me?” they ask, voice pitched low and joking. “Should I be worried?”

Sevika doesn’t answer, her fingers are already saying everything. She just keeps rubbing firm circles.

Ran shifts, trying not to move too much, not to give it away. But their thighs shake.

“Shit,” they whisper. “This really how you’re gonna play it?”

Sevika hums against their neck, the weight of her arm over their ribs keeping them steady.

“You wanna squirm, or you wanna come?”

Ran huffs a shaky breath, almost a laugh. “Cocky.”

But their body’s already giving them up, hips bearing down in desperate rolls. Their grip on Sevika’s arm tightens, not to stop her, but to just keep holding on.

“Good boy,” Sevika’s warm breath touching their ear.

That one hits hard and Ran shudders.

They try to breathe through it, try to keep up the act, but it feels too good. Her fingers too sure. Her presence too much.

Their head tilts, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck, Sev…” It comes out quiet and real.

And Sevika’s voice is low with certainty.

“Go ahead.”

And Ran does.

Right there on her lap.

Pressing into her hand, mouth open, body shaking, coming with a whimper that they love and hate she hears.

And Sevika just holds them through it. Still languidly rubbing, until they’re done twitching. Until they slump full weight against her chest, worn out and warm.

Sevika presses her face to their hair, and closes her eyes.

Ran shudders, like they’re trying to get their spine back in order, whole body soaked in afterglow.

Then they shift, still half-melted, and hum smugly.

“Well,” they say, voice a little wrecked but working its way back to cocksure, “Think we should tip the girl?”

“She was working,” Sevika huffs. “And you weren’t even watching.”

Ran chuckles. “I was very busy. You were moaning.”

“I growled.”

“You moaned, big girl.”

Sevika glares at them.

Ran just grins wider. “It was hot.”

She tries to nudge them off her lap. “Get up.”

“Nah,” Ran says, snuggling in harder. “Feels nice. Just gonna watch the girls from here.”

“We’re out of coins.”

“Damn.” Ran replies, but there’s no weight in it.

Sevika lets them stay. Just adjusts her arm around them and reaches for a cigarette with the other.

And Ran stays quiet the whole time she smokes.

♡

[ayadurable]

18+ MDNI . Lesbian sex in an alley, post-fight adrenaline sex, mutual fingering, (pining, mentions of canon violence and fucking girls, voyerism), they/them character, everyone is afab.

The Monster and the Chaos

SEVIKA x RAN = friends-with-benefits loyalty kink ♡

SUMMARY: The history of how Ran grew up to burn through Zaun alongside Sevika. The work, the fucking around, the loyalty. Up until five years ago, when finally, just fucking. It took Ran until 24 before Sevika could see it. (Age gap 24/36.)

NOTES: First half backstory, or scroll down to ✿✿✿ for the alley smut scene. Start of a series, which is somewhere between friends-with-benefits porn and a rough-edged love story.

AO3 link • 3.1k words

~20 years ago: Sevika 21 | Ran 9

The first memory Sevika has of Ran is from the days when she is still clawing her way up the ranks of some gang.

Sevika is already capable of being a mean, dangerous thing when the city turns bad, and in Zaun, things always do. She smokes too much, fights too much, and fucks pretty girls like it’s a way to stay alive. Clearly not someone a kid should idolize.

But one does.

This scrawny, relentless kid from the Lanes keeps showing up. They are never scared of her, which she finds surprising. They also never shut up.

This kid trails after her, talking about street rumors, Zaunite music, pitfights, the weird glowing moss and insects in the old mines, and how they’re going to fix everything wrong with the city. The kid asks questions or lectures her. 

“Did you know that if you tap the pipes, you can tell what’s in them? The ones with air hum and clang, kind of like music. Waste pipes go dull, and sometimes gurgle, like they don’t like you touching them.”

“If you stab the joint here, they can’t lift their arm again.”

Sevika mostly grunts and smokes, and pretends not to listen. The kid is annoying and loud, but also sharp and sometimes funny. And since they don’t expect her to say too much, she often lets the kid hang around a while and talk.

Without meaning to, Sevika learns their name.

Ran.

* * *

~16 years ago: Sevika 25 | Ran 13

This one night Ran is just pacing. They slip through the back halls of the gang they so want to be part of, not wanting to go home yet. It’s one of those nights when half the crew is too drunk to stand, and Ran maybe just wants to watch and learn. Not quite sure what, really.

And that’s when they see Sevika with the girl.

Sevika is pressed into a corner in the hallways with some beautiful woman clinging to her. Sevika is young, tall, and handsome, and in Zaun strength is a currency. She’s used to getting offers. But this is something more. So Ran freezes without meaning to, half-hidden behind a doorway, holding their breath.

The girl is soft and so graceful. Eyes wide and clutching Sevika’s neck like she really cares.

Then Sevika kisses her. Hard, yes. Demanding, yes. But gentle too, with hands steady at the girl’s waist, not groping. Sevika is careful, like holding something breakable. Ran has never seen her like that. In Zaun you’re supposed to be only tough.

The kiss is slow, long and unbroken. Something clearly meaningful, not stolen or bought.

Heart hammering, Ran watches as the girl slips her fingers into Sevika’s hair, the short ones at the nape of her neck, and they can feel how Sevika relaxes into the touch.

Without thinking, Ran touches their own neck. Then slips away into the shadows.

They never forget.

* * *

~13 years ago: Sevika 28 | Ran 16

Sevika is in Vander’s crew, moving up, trusted with important, mean work suited to her, when Ran grows into a reckless, cocky teenager.

Ran is always getting into fights, pulling scams, flirting with the wrong people, but still showing up all the time to talk to her. Still moving like they can’t stop. Still grinning like nothing can touch them.

One month Ran shows up with a buzzcut, running their hand over it again and again. Next month it’s bleached hair and a bigger grin.

Sevika actually bursts out laughing, that rough, crackling sound, when Ran offers to do her piercings with a block of ice and a needle, like they pierce themselves. Ran is pleased. It doesn’t matter if it’s the piercings or the laugh. Either one feels like winning.

Sevika suspects a crush once or twice, but Ran never flirts with her. They flirt with everyone else though. And they are shameless about it, with an endless supply of one-liners and praises.

Ran is constantly talking about kissing girls in alleys. Only girls. Soft girls, wide-eyed girls with easy smiles. They have that half-cocky, half-insecure bravado teenagers wear like armor.

“You hear about me and that girl from Greyrat Street?”

“She said my mouth was a problem. Still kissed me though. You think she’s hot? She laughs nice. I think she really likes me.”

Sevika mostly huffs, lets Ran talk and tries not to smile. Just another damn kid trying to survive the only way they know how.

Ran’s always getting into trouble. Sometimes Sevika grabs them by the back of the collar, hauls them out of a fight, and shoves them toward safety. Gruff orders and rough hands holding them still until they settle enough not to go right back in.

“Get your shit together.”

* * *

~10 years ago: Sevika 31 | Ran 19

Sevika moves up to become a solid core fighter under Vander’s leadership. The streets are tense but organized. She’s known for her power, and her readiness to do whatever needs to be done for Zaun. 

Ran finally narrows their chaos into something sharper. They train constantly, and their energy gives them an edge. They’re still not as big as Sevika and never will be, so they learn to be fast, smart, and tactical.

It’s Sevika who suggests the two blades and it suits them. Hit fast. Move faster. Cut deep. Disappear.

They’re good. Good enough that Sevika starts letting them tag along on real work. Good enough that Ran slides into the crew like they were always meant to be there.

Always near Sevika.

Sevika doesn’t think about it much. Just figures Ran is loyal and dependable.

Ran still talks about girls too much. Constant stories that are often true, if you believe them.

“She had this tattoo here, and when I got her shirt off, just had to trail it with my tongue.”

“She laughed like I was trouble, then whispered if I’d ever been with a cop’s daughter.”

“Told her so many times she was cute, she wouldn’t let go. She bit my lip, so I think it counts as a date.”

It’s partly a smokescreen. Sevika doesn’t notice, genuinely doesn’t. Ran’s been around so long they’re just part of the background now. The familiar chatterbox handy with the blades. They’re still that damn kid in the back of her mind, now grown up enough to be useful.

And there’s this one girl Ran can’t shut up about for weeks. The one who first kissed them for making her laugh. Ran babbles about a breakfast in bed, even though it’s a mess of crumbs, jam, and juice spilling over. Every time Ran talks about it, it’s with this stupid, wide grin, like they can’t believe it keeps happening. Like they’re a little bit afraid if they stop talking about it, it might stop being real.

* * *

~8 years ago: Sevika 33 | Ran 21

Then things start going bad.

Sevika grows frustrated with Vander’s pacifist stance toward Piltover. Vander promised change, but it’s not happening. The city rots slower, but that’s all.

Sevika starts to believe any cost is acceptable if it means freeing Zaun. So she leaves Vander’s crew for Silco’s, and many follow her. Ran, of course, is one of them.

The night Vander’s kids try to get him back from Silco’s hold, Jinx’s bomb explodes. When Sevika is in, she’s all in, so she loses her arm saving Silco.

She doesn’t remember much after the blast. Just pain.

But Ran is there. Wrecked inside but strangely calm, they keep talking through it.

“This’ll turn out fine.”

“The mechanical arm’s gonna make you even stronger.”

“You’re still the biggest bitch in the streets.”

Ran stays close through the whole messy recovery, even when Sevika is an ass, lashing out from the anger of her loss. They spar with her endlessly. Help her force the new mechanical arm into something fierce and useful. 

They also make sure everyone on the streets knows she’ll be back soon, and worse for it. Sevika tells herself it’s loyalty and friendship. She won’t forget it. Not ever. Trust is the most important thing in the world to her.

And the arm? She really is a weapon now.

* * *

~7 years ago: Sevika 34 | Ran 22

A year after losing her arm, Sevika is Silco’s second when Ran loses their hand. It’s nothing extraordinary, only bad odds on one bad job. One bad move, and the fingers are gone.

Ran doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry. Just stares at Sevika in the bloody street, bites down, and survives it the same way she did. Refusing to fall.

Sevika sticks close this time. She makes sure Ran gets fitted with the best mechanical replacement and they spar through the pain and the frustration. Ran gets faster, smarter, and meaner. Gets back to work.

But sometimes, after jobs that should’ve killed them both but didn’t, they make it back laughing. Sevika buys the first drinks. Ran steals the seconds. And for a while, Zaun doesn’t feel like it’s trying to kill them.

Somewhere in the middle of it, Ran starts flirting with Sevika. Very casual, like it’s nothing. Just their usual grin and swagger.

“You know, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were my type too. Big, mean, and hard to get.”

Sevika laughs it off. It’s entirely Ran. They’ve survived too much together for it to mean anything. That’s what they are. Banter, loyalty and familiar heat. 

They know each other’s bodies well from fighting side by side, from bandaging each other’s hard-to-reach cuts, and from sparring between jobs. Ran clinks their metal fingers against Sevika’s arm.

“Together, we’re a full set.”

Sevika huffs, and pushes them harder in the next sparring round. She doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see that Ran isn’t quite kidding.

Anyway, she figures they both just want to burn through reckless girls. Women who want Sevika to do whatever she wants to them. And she wants control, without question. Lovers who want Ran to play games, talk shit, tease and touch until they are begging Ran for more. Same needs, different styles.

No reason to look closer.

* * *

~6 years ago: Sevika 35 | Ran 23

It’s a messy couple of years.

They work well together, but it’s cruel work in a cruel world, and they’re built for it. Both of them survive by distracting themselves. Too much drinking and too many girls, but slowly, they settle into what they are.

Crew is the only home they have. Zaun is the only cause that matters. Work is a shitty means to an end they’re not sure will ever come.

Women come to Sevika, looking for safety in her gruff demeanor and status. They say they like the scars at first, and listen to the gravel in her voice. They want the weight of her body in bed, the way she takes control. But then they start asking for softness, expecting her to sweet-talk and make grand promises. Sevika doesn’t have that. Not in her nature. Soon they can’t accept the monster she carries in her, even though it was the monster that first drew them in. The monster she looks more and more like with every year.

Ran, meanwhile, enters full fuckboy mode. All swagger and smirks. A blade on each shoulder and a pretty thing on every street. They want Ran’s touches, the teasing whispers, the fast hands. But then they try to slow them down. Try to handle Ran’s chaos. Their constant need for action, movement, shit talking, the heat they thrive in. But Ran isn’t built for slowing down.

So, fuck feelings.

Fuck romance.

Just fuck.

Sevika stops even pretending to date. It’s easier to pay. No mind games or pretending. No asking for things she doesn’t have. No heart left to try for real. She needs the quiet more too.

But Ran can’t stand the thought of not being really wanted. They never pay. Ran teases, dares, and wins pretty things over with a charming smile and a filthy mouth.

And what Ran really wants is different. 

They find girls who want the danger of Sevika and them both. The wild ones. The brave ones.

Ran smoothtalks pairs of pretty girls. Picks the bold one who doesn’t flinch from Sevika and presses her under Sevika’s arm with a smirk. Then kisses the other girl until nobody is breathing evenly. So they end up in the same rooms fucking different girls. 

Ran watches, when they think Sevika won’t notice. Watches Sevika kiss a girl slow. Watches her pin wrists back against a wall. Watches the brave one cling, asking for it, until Sevika fucks her hard enough to make her cry out. Watches the way Sevika steadies the girl’s hips after. Not sweet, but something close to careful. There’s still something careful left in Sevika.

And Ran listens. Listens for the low rough sound Sevika makes when a girl touches her, makes her come.

But Sevika knows.

Neither of them says anything. Not ever.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

CHAPTER 2: The First Time

~5 years ago: Sevika 36 | Ran 24

Sevika is thirty-six and the scariest monster on the streets. Ran is twenty-four, the fast, deadly, unstoppable chaos. Zaun isn’t a nice place. It respects them.

A moment ago, things almost went bad. It was just the two of them, and a lot more of some rogue chemlord’s gang than there was supposed to be. Now it’s the familiar taste of blood in the air. All that blood under their boots, soaking the alley. Those bodies will never move again.

Ran paces. Too much adrenaline. Laughing too loud.

“Fucking hell… did you see that? Did you see that one with the mask?” They ramble. “I thought I was dead. I thought you were dead. Shit, you’re not dead, right?”

“Still moving,” Sevika grunts and shrugs.

Ran stops and looks at Sevika. At her steadiness and realness. Her power.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” they go on. “Thought you were done for, with so many closing in. Thought I was gonna finally die.”

Sevika stays calm, like she always does. The worse it gets, the tighter her control. “You hurt?” she asks.

Ran keeps on rambling, wild-eyed, unable to stop moving. “The size of that guy, probably on shimmer, and you just…”

”I asked if you’re hurt?” Sevika huffs, annoyed.

Ran glances at her and breathes out hard. “No. Don’t think so.”

They stop pacing, lean their forehead against the brick wall and kick it hard.

“Shit. Damn, I need to get off,” Ran mutters. “Need to fuck something.”

It’s not a flirtation, just true, the way Ran works shit out. It’s just fuckboy logic.

Sevika grumbles under her breath. Ran’s clearly bleeding. She grabs their shoulder, turns them around, checks the bruises and cuts quickly and roughly. She takes Ran’s chin in her hand and tilts their head, checking the cut above their ear on the shaved side.

“Looks nasty,” she says. “But it’s not deep. You’ll live.”

Ran chuckles, voice still shaky. “Always do.”

They’re both raw and ragged and have that burning under the skin they always carry after a kill.

With the adrenaline, Ran is even cockier than usual. They are pushed against the wall from Sevika’s rough medical check, so they take hold of her waist, running their thumb under the waistband of those low-slung pants, tracing the line that always drives them crazy, whether Sevika knows it or not.

And like always, there are the jokes. “You gonna take care of me, nurse?”

Sevika huffs but for some reason she doesn’t let go. She keeps Ran pinned against the wall and looks at them. Such a pretty fuckboy. What would be the harm, right? They both need to burn off the adrenaline anyway. Wouldn’t mean anything.

Ran sees the look and almost manages to hide the way their breath catches.

They risk it.

They hold her waist tighter and pull her ever so slightly closer. Ran slips their thumb a little lower, following that deep crease at her hip.

Sevika presses in, heavy and hard, bracing her metal arm beside Ran’s head, chest to chest. She’s bigger, older, meaner, and testing if Ran will flinch. But the noise Ran makes isn’t protest.

It’s want.

They grin like a challenge. Ran’s cold metal fingers dig into her hip. Warm fingers slide even deeper under her waistband.

“Knew you had something special under here,” they whisper.

No kisses. No stripping. Just a scramble of belts and tight pants shoved down far enough.

Sevika’s fingers find Ran’s clit first.

They moan, trying to hold down a shiver, and Sevika smiles crooked, already rubbing tight, brutal little circles.

Ran gets to her right after.

Sevika growls down against their neck, breath hot, voice wrecked,

“Fuck. There. Stay still.”

But Ran doesn’t.

Sliding two fingers down, one on either side of her clit, up and down, jerking her off rough and fast, grinding into her hand at the same time. Both of them are pushing, chasing that burn.

Ran knows exactly what Sevika needs. They’ve strapped girls in the same rooms when drunk so many times. They’ve seen Sevika shove girls’ hands into her own pants after. Heard her giving orders, gruff and direct. And Ran has listened every time.

And Sevika’s fingers, fuck, her fingers have the experience. She knows exactly how to respond to every hitch of Ran’s breath.

It’s rough. No rhythm. And all drive.

They come nearly at the same time. Growling, shaking, panting. 

Sevika swears, like she always does when it’s good.

Time stills for a while.

Ran’s face presses into Sevika’s shoulder, hand still shoved in her pants, not wanting to let go. Sevika’s head drops against theirs, mind blank for a rare, relieving moment. The air stinks of sweat and blood and sex.

And for a few seconds, they just breathe together.

Then it’s Sevika grunting, “Fuck.”

Ran chuckles, like it’s nothing. 

Both of them shove their pants back up, buckling belts with hands still shaking from it. Sevika lights up a cig, sticks it between Ran’s fingers. They take a deep drag. Neither of them looks at each other, but it’s not uncomfortable. Not really.

When they walk out of the alley, Sevika goes first, broad shoulders cutting through the ever-burning lights of Zaun. Ran follows a step behind.

Right before they hit the street, Ran lifts their fingers, inhales deeply. Just in case this was a one-time thing. They want to remember what she smells like.

Sevika tries not to think.

She liked it. 

She liked it too much.

They never talk about it. But the next time, it’s easy. Like it’s supposed to happen.

♡

[red-enby]

i drew ran again :)

[arcanecitizens]

Ran - The Aura

[raphaellearp]

Sketchy Ran

bc they’re hot af