( 🧡 ) content warnings : pairing : jinx 𝔁 girly ! reader ; established relationship ; pda ; nsfw content ; exhibitionism ; fingering ; dacryphilia ; public sex ; gp ! jinx ; ( bonus blurb at the end )
jinx ! who loves to watch you do your makeup. she’ll pull a chair aside and sit next to you and just look at your face in the mirror while you apply various products to your skin. at first, her undivided, almost laser focus attention on you, bothered you a little, especially because there was a voice in the back of your head that was constantly telling you, unwontedly so, that she was judging you, but once you realised that she genuinely just liked looking at you, and observing you through her dirty mirror, you stopped being bothered by your newfound spectator, plus audience during your mourning routine.
jinx ! who makes clothes for you to match her own, but in your style. for example, she’ll make a skirt version of her stripped purple pants or bedazzle a pair of boots that look like her own and gift them to you. jinx ! who loves dressing you up, like you’re her own personal doll. jinx ! who makes you twirl around and give her a show of the clothes she just made for you while she manspreads on a chair in front of you, staring at you with a look in her eyes that let’s you know, loud and clear with big neon flashing lights, that you look good enough to eat, and that she most definitely will.
jinx ! who loves messing around with your makeup. in the morning whenever you’re still asleep she’ll slip out of your shared bed, quietly, and go through your stuff, taking all your makeup out of your bag and spreading it all around her vanity. she tries to do her makeup like you, only to end up with a bunch of shades across her pale face that don’t match her complexion at all.
you wake up alone in jinx’s bed, or your bed at this point, given the fact that the two of you have been sharing it for months now, you feel around the covers for her, trying to find your blue haired girlfriend to no avail, she’s gone. something inside your head pings, like an alert or a trigger, jinx out of bed, by herself, without telling you anything or where she was going, that was never good, god knows what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into by now.
you sigh and step out of the bed, feeing the cold metal of the giant fan in which jinx’s room is situated, you were about to get dressed and hit silco’s office or maybe the last drop in search for her when you heard something metallic and round slide through the floor and in your feet’s direction. you bend down and pick it up, turning the object over in your hand, only to realise, that you’re holding your own lipstick. you follow the direction in which the product came from only to be met with jinx, sitting cross legged in front of your vanity holding three different eyeshadow palettes in her left hand and the wrong brush in her other one.
jinx turns around, smiling brightly, baring her teeth at you in a wide smile while continuing to play with your makeup. “heya there, toots.” she greets, spinning around in her chair.
“hey, what are you doing?” you question, raking your eyes over her face and her hands which are also covered in eyeshadow and lipstick.
“what’s it look like? i’m getting all pretty. like you.” she says, grabbing a lipstick and applying a generous amount while looking at her painted face in the mirror. “you don’t think i look pretty?” jinx asks, lifting off the chair with more force than necessary and walking towards you in slow, large steps, akin to a feline stalking its prey.
“I think you look gorgeous.” you admit, but then again, you always think that, she could be wearing a trash bag over her head and you’d still think that she was the prettiest girl in all of zaun.
jinx looks at you, a predatory look painted across her pale face, her arms, that were previously laced behind her back, come to rest on your waist before yanking you closer, making your chest bump against her own, before her lips are meeting yours in a frenzied kiss. jinx’s lips move against your own with the ferocity of a wild cat, claiming your mouth with her own like you’re about to disappear in between her fingers, her digits dig into your back, pulling you closer until there isn’t a single inch of space in between your bodies, jinx plunges her tongue in between your lips, swirling it around and taking what’s rightfully hers, the lipstick that previously coated her lips is now smudged around your mouth and hers, making you both look like a hot mess, you wondered which part of your body she’d be covering in lipstick next.
jinx ! who spoils you rotten, it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have the monetary means to do so because the five finger discount still exists in her books. you don’t even need to say anything, you can do something as little as look at a piece of clothing or a weapon for more than two seconds and she will be stealing it for you. jinx ! who loots the topside to get you the shiniest and most expensive jewellery in all of piltover.
jinx ! who loves to see you dolled up, but who loves to see your pretty makeup running down your cheeks even more, much more.
you were sitting in front of jinx’s dirty mirror, giving your makeup its final touches, jinx, like always, was sitting on the ground staring up at you, her pink eyes tracking your every move like you were some kind of threat, or something she wanted badly, you’d bet all your money on the second one. once you turn around to stand up jinx, with an impressive and definitely inhuman speed sits in the chair, that you were previously sat on, and pulls you into her lap.
you huff and stare down at her, rolling your eyes and adjusting your legs so they were in a less awkward position around her thighs. “jinx.” you reprimand, but the cut in your voice while you say her name makes your tone all the less intimidating.
“yeah…?” jinx asks, her tone sounded almost bored but her face told a different story, her eyes were laser focused on your skin while her index finger traced a perfect line down your chest.
“we have to go.” you remind her.
jinx scoffs and turns her gaze away from you for a moment, rolling her eyes before locking her pink tinted eyes on your face once again. “we don’t have to do anything.” she argues, defiantly.
“jinx—” you start again before you feel her hands lifting you up, from her lap and laying you atop the surface of her vanity slash work table. “what are you—” you try to get the sentence out, before you feel two of her fingers digging into your panties and playing with the wetness that had been gathering on your slit. “oh! mmmh.” you breathe out.
jinx lets out an almost maniacal cackle before plunging those same two digits inside of your hole, no preparation, no nothing, making you arch your back on the table and throw down some of your makeup items off the surface. jinx pistons her fingers in and out of your pussy, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that makes your vision go dark and your knees buckle, her piston like movements only become sloppy once she leans down to suck your clit in between her lips, making you trash on top of the smooth surface and throw your head back due to the overstimulation. jinx is relentless in her actions, hitting your cervix over and over again with the pads of her long fingers. your release washes over you in waves, quickly, making your body go numb and your mind go quiet. but, apparently, one round wasn’t enough for jinx, it never is, because jinx was only ever satisfied when you were a mess and begging her to stop due to the overstimulation.
“not so fast, toots.” jinx says, or demands, once she feels you try and fail to lift off the table. “i’m not done with ya yet.” she declares, forcing you back down on the surface and putting her left palm on top of your stomach to force you to stay down.
jinx’s free hand starts moving inside of you again, using your previous release as lube in order to go deeper inside you. it hurt, but it hurt so good, her fingers inside of you, her hand holding you down, you were trapped, but at the same time you were exactly where you wanted to be.
jinx leans down, her face inches from your own, before she tilts her head to the side and speaks against the shell of your ear. “what’s wrong, kitten?” she asks in faux concern, her fingers never faltering in their path in and out of your cunt. “can’t take it?” she mocks.
you could, you had to, but at the same time you couldn’t form a cohesive thought to save your life, so you bite down on your bottom lip and keep your mouth shut. your eyes tell a different story though, releasing salty proof of just how much jinx was wrecking you, just how much of an effect she had on you.
jinx hums, seemingly satisfied, as dark coloured tears form little trails across your cheeks, staining your face with mascara and eyeliner alike. jinx smirks while you writhe under her, trashing like a wild animal that had just been caught by its much larger prey. jinx leans down and licks your cheek, catching your stray tears in the process and a healthy dose of your makeup products before making you cum over her table, one more time.
jinx ! who is big on pda. she’s always holding your hand whenever the two of you go somewhere outside her hideout. her hand is constantly on your thigh whenever the two of you are sitting together, or her arm around your waist, pulling you in, possessively, while her eyes lock in with anyone in the room that might’ve had their eyes on you, that when your not on her lap, which is plenty of times, if you were being honest with yourself.
jinx ! who is super jealous and possessive of you, you were her favourite thing in the world and she knew that, you knew that, the problem is— so did everyone else, including the people who didn’t like her, and the people who worked for the people who didn’t like her. including those who wanted you for themselves, for whatever reason, or just to annoy the undercity’s princess.
you were sitting with jinx in the back of the last drop, jinx’s fingers drummed across the skin of your thigh, her face locked with a man across the two of you. tall, but it didn’t seem like he was particularly bright, one of smeech’s men for sure, he fit the profile and jinx wasn’t having it, she had been on edge, all day, and was one minor inconvenience away from losing it completely and bombing something… or everything.
the man kept eyeing you both, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before pursing his lips together and sending a kiss your away, gross.
jinx growled and stood up, reaching for her gun before you stopped her, just in time, and made her sit back down.
jinx eyed you furiously, her expression shifting from unfounded anger to something primal, hot and possessive. you had to think fast before she caused a havoc in the one place in all of zaun where it was semi peaceful, usually. so, you, impulsively, sit on top of her lap and start grinding your hips into her erection, making her back hit the cushions behind you both and her mouth open up in an ‘o’ shape. jinx sighs, her jaw locked in place, her eyes still fixed on the man in front of you both, but her body was starting to relax, her back curving against the sofa before she let go of her gun, dropping it to the floor and clutching your waist in between her nimble fingers. jinx was panting hard against your ear, her lips curling around your neck before biting down, claiming you in a possessive manner before her hips lift up and start grinding desperately into the curve of your ass.
you leaned back against her body, reaching behind your back and unzipping her pants, freeing her cock from its purple stripped cell. jinx let out a strangled noise into your ear before reaching between your legs and pulling your skirt up to your stomach and your panties to the side. jinx thrusted her cock into you in one swift motion, making you open your mouth in a silent moan and your back arch against her tits, taking her length deep inside of you. you leaned your head back against her shoulder, closing your eyes and savouring the fullness of jinx’s cock inside of you, unlike jinx, who maintained eye contact with smeech’s goon that was still in front of you both.
jinx’s hand curled around your waist while her hips jerked up and down, claiming you publicly and without shame, her face dropped to your shoulder while her hands squeezed your waist tightly, feeling for her erection beneath your skin, she pulled you impossibly close while drooling into your shoulder, her hips thrusting in and out of you while her eyes remained on him.
the man remained unmoved, his face a mix of uncomfortableness and something primal akin to lust, he shifted in his place, adjusting his cock that was protruding through the fabric of his pants, while jinx kept fucking into you right there, in the last drop, for everyone to see, because that’s what she wanted, for everyone to see that you were hers and hers alone.
jinx’s teeth sink into your neck, particularly hard, digging into your flesh while her cock stills inside of you, releasing her load into you while her hips keep jerking up and down, claiming you as her own. jinx’s eyes lock with the goon’s icy ones something dangerous flickering around her pink irises telling him wordlessly that he had seen enough. the man nods his head rapidly and skedaddles out of the place, leaving you and jinx alone in the corner booth.
jinx hums, clearly satisfied with her little show, and plays with your clit, bouncing you on her lap while circling the little bundle of nerves in tight, precise circles, making you cum around her cock, letting out a loud moan that echoed through the walls of the bar while her released seeped out of your pussy and into her lap.
jinx ! who dresses isha up in your clothes and uses your makeup on her to make her look like you. isha ! who runs up to you, smiles and twirls around to show you her new outfit and look.
you were sitting in jinx’s bed, messing around with one of her trinkets when you heard tiny and rapid footsteps echoing through the metallic floor of jinx’s bedroom. you didn’t even need to turn around to know exactly who was running up into the bedroom.
“hey, kid.” you say, absentmindedly, before lifting your gaze up and seeing isha’s new look. “oh, wow.” you say looking her up and down and taking in her outfit and makeup. she looked like a little miniature version of you. how cute.
slow, more relaxed and season footsteps follow isha’s rapid and thundering ones, revealing your blue haired girlfriend looking particularly proud of herself. “you like it?” she asks.
isha nods her head and twirls around, seemingly thrilled by the result of jinx’s little dress up game before jumping into your lap and nuzzling her little face into your neck. you giggle and hug her tightly, trying to calm the tiny ball of energy that was now perched atop your lap.
jinx joins in and sits next to you, ruffling isha’s newly died blue hair, she looked like a little miniature version of the both of you. “yea, i gotta admit, you do look pretty good.” jinx tells isha, twirling one of her short blue locks in between her fingers, making isha let out a soft and content noise.
jinx leans in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear, whispering her next words so isha wouldn’t hear. “almost as good as the original.”
jinx is for sure a clingy girlfriend, she gets attached incredibly quickly. she loves when you fuck her nice and deep with your strap, but her favourite part is when you have her on her back whilst you hover above her, grinding your hips against her, stretching her out around you while you admire each others expressions and pleasurable reactions; perfectly close as she clings onto you.
one day, you had her turn over, pushing your hand down onto her back as she arches wonderfully, her cute ass up in the air, slightly moving against you. her eager hips betray the words and whines slipping past her purple coated lips. you’ve told her it’ll feel amazing from behind; fuller, in a way. but jinx loves to cling to you during sex, gripping onto your arms, kissing you, staring at you, just having you as close as possible, and she can’t very well do that if you’re behind her, as she tells you through her many complaints and pleads.
jinx has never been one for patience, but you promised that you would hold her as you fuck her nice and slow afterwards, so she complied and remained on her knees before you. her back arched further as you pushed into her. her pretty eyes rolled back and she mostly remained silent, which was certainly a change. small whimpers and gasps would slip out amongst cut off quiet words of gratitude and encouragement, and you smiled from behind her, knowing that you were right as you imagined how amazingly full she must feel from this new angle.
though, after a small while as she began to grow used to the position, her grabby hands made their way to you. she desperately reached behind her to touch any part of you that she could, gripping onto your thigh, your hip, your wrist as you held onto her waist… you reminded her to be patient, praised her with how well she was doing, and how pretty she looked in this position. she would whine in reply, a mixture of restlessness and desperation to be close to you again, and sensitive satisfaction as her greedy cunt dripped onto her sheets, sucking your cock inside of her deeper with every movement.
once she came with a shocked and delighted squeal as you soothed the pale skin of her back and hip with your gentle hand, you kept your promise, delicately handling her as you lowered her down onto the mattress, turning her over to face you before you kissed her tenderly. you gave her a few seconds of rest before pushing into her once again, slow and deep, making her hum. she opened her tired eyes with a smile to look at you, cradling your face between her hands as you pushed her damp hair back from her forehead, filling her up nice and sweet as she cuddled against you.
read on archive | request received | content tags: roommate au, college au, jinx is older than you, financial talks (i know… very depressing), caitvi mentioned, sevika mentioned, comfort, fluffy, flustered roommate!jinxie, reader calls her “jinxie”, gentle smut, oral, top!jinx, bottom!reader
“You gotta take a break soon, y’know? Your head’s gonna explode!”
You looked over at Jinx who was stuffing her face with the freshly baked cookies your friend had sent over just to ensure you had enough sugar in your system to pull in another all-nighter.
Everybody knew how much grades meant to you.
So mostly during exam season, people tried to maintain their respectful distance from you while you allowed the load of studying to consume you entirely.
Jinx sat on the chair, pulling both knees to her chest and rocked, “you gotta get your nose outta that book…”
You looked up, “why?”
“You’ve been at it for hours!” She said, throwing her hands in the air exaggeratedly, “I mean, come on! How hard can it be?”
She picked up one of your books, and opened it, flipping through the pages aimlessly. Then tossed it back to you.
“Hell no.”
You snorted softly.
“How about you go make me another coffee?”
Jinx raised a brow.
“How about no? Your heart is running on a prayer and a thousand dreams.”
You rolled your eyes so hard they almost flew out of orbit.
“Sure.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be dry with me now,” Jinx leaned closer, “I can go get you a very diluted coffee.”
You tried not to smile at that.
“I’d rather die.”
A moment of silence passed.
“Y’know, you could just drop out,” Jinx offered.
“No, that’s not on the table and you know that.”
“Who’s to say you’re gonna, like, make six figures after you graduate anyway?”
“A degree is still worth somethin’.”
You looked back at your notes, quietly focusing your brain there. Jinx didn’t retaliate, didn’t throw an insult at you like she’d initially wanted to do so.
She knew this was important to you and although she couldn’t see the necessity in it, she respected it.
Ever since Jinx had been young, she’d lived on scrapes so she was no stranger to poverty. Once she’d gotten a little older and worked a couple odd jobs, she managed to get herself a stabilised financial footing, and that’s how she was now here—your roommate.
You didn’t know about half the jobs she did.
It didn’t matter.
She was looking for a roommate and you were too, and one thing happened after another and before you knew it—you were sharing a room with an older girl who acted half your age and had hair that could compete with Rapunzel’s (which had quickly become your subject of amusement, much to Jinx’s dismay).
You sighed and leaned your head back, running a hand over your face. At this rate, you were never going to finish up with revision.
And that sucked because you’d actually been looking forward to this test.
You got up, and grabbed your jacket from the coat hanger.
“Hey, I’m going out for a walk,” you said, voice low and tired.
“Mmm’kay!”
You didn’t wait for further conversation and walked towards the door. The weather outside was as gloomy as you felt—dark clouds drifting through the depressed blue sky. You walked with both hands stuffed in your jacket.
You knew Jinx was sort of right—an undergraduate degree wouldn’t really help a lot in this economy especially when people with even a master’s degree struggle to get a job. What even were the odds that you would land a good paying job?
You knew Jinx never made that much—she relied partially on her older sister Vi for money… but you had no family you could turn to. It was just you.
Currently, you were working odd jobs with your roommate—but you made only enough to get sucked dry every time you went grocery shopping. You didn’t remember the last time you treated yourself with something good and you relied fully on your scholarship for college.
Somehow, you were keeping your head above water but you didn’t know what you wanted to do after this. It had taken you a long time to figure out what to do after prep-school and now that you were in college—suddenly the challenges of the real world started to weigh down on you harder than it did when you were a rebellious teenager with a backup plan of getting a sugar daddy.
Hah, sugar daddy.
The thought made you smile to yourself—you were stupid back then to think you could land yourself a sugar daddy without having to sell your body to him for money. You kicked a rock and watched it roll down the pavement.
Life was weird in a way—right when you’d thought nothing would work out and you were going to have to live in a dinky old apartment by yourself, you’d found Jinx.
She was… friendly. Although she laughed at your expense a lot, she was very warm when she welcomed you in and helped you get your first ever roommate experience. Your smile widened a little. You felt embarrassed admitting—but if it weren’t for the people Jinx introduced you to, you’d probably think you had nobody in this world to turn to.
But there were plenty of people now.
There’s Vi. There’s Sevika. And to Jinx’s utter discomfort, there’s Caitlyn.
You knew even if things went down to hell after university, they would all have your back. Atleast, that part of everything felt comforting.
“I’m back home,” you announced, opening the door and kicking your shoes off.
“Wash up for dinner!” Jinx’s voice called.
You looked up, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
Since when did Jinx become housewife material?
You walked to the kitchen, and saw Jinx carefully throwing away takeout containers, two full plates sitting on the kitchen counter. You stood silently and waited until she put them in the trash.
“You cooked?”
“Yeah.”
“Jinx.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I ordered takeout…”
“With what money?”
“Well, technically—Vi ordered takeout—”
You smiled despite yourself. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”
“Okay, okay, whatever, you wanna eat or wait til the food’s all cold?”
“Let’s eat.”
You both sat in front of the TV, setting the plates down on the table as you both got comfortable on the couch. You watched Jinx picking out a movie.
“I feel bad sometimes… I’ll reimburse you for the—”
“Nah, don’t bother.”
“Jinx—
“Hush. Just eat.” She paused. “You deserve to be taken care of, y’know?”
You stared at her. That’s the first time she’d spoken to you in a voice that soft and genuine, and didn’t joke about it right after.
“Don’t make me get all sappy now,” she said, elbowing you gently, “eat.”
---
Jinx was there for you more than you’d like to admit. More than she’d like to admit either because in a world where everyone only looked out for themselves, she looked out for you and took care of you in more ways than one.
She was messy herself—laundry barely ever done and sketching paper all over the floor of her room but whenever she saw you were too stressed out to bother cleaning your room out, she stepped up and had everything under control.
It was like.. whenever she needed to be the emotional anchor for both of you, she willingly stepped up to be that without you having to ask for it. That meant more to you than any extravagantly rich older roommate could ever.
“How was the test!?” Jinx asked the moment she saw you walk to the parking lot.
“It was good,” you said, smiling brightly, “how come you’re here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“What work?” Jinx asked with a tilt of her head, “oh, work! Yeah, I work flexible hours.”
“Okay…”
“What? I came because my roomie has finally given the exam that’s been wrecking her in a not-so-pleasurable way.”
You swatted her playfully, “goodness.”
“Get in the car, princess,” she opened the passenger side door for you.
“Oh, aren’t you so chivalrous?”
You got inside and Jinx got in the driver’s side, revving out of the parking spot and driving onto the road.
“So, was the paper hard or worth all that revision?”
“It was okay, actually. I think I’ll do good.”
“See, you stress yourself out for nothin’!”
You looked at her—even in that stupid baseball cap and denim jacket, Jinx looked good. She looked at you, catching you staring.
“What? Fallin’ in love?” She teased.
Your cheeks flushed, “oh, fuck you.”
“You wish you could, baby.”
Damn right. You did wish that.
The rest of the drive was silent. Once you’d both gotten home, you walked inside and taken your jacket off, looking around.
“Oh, you cleaned up while I was gone?”
“Yeah, figured you’d wanna come back and relax, not get your hands dirty.” Jinx closed the door behind you both.
“That’s so sweet of you.”
“Don’t—I ain’t ever cleanin’ again.”
Jinx looked away, clearly a little flustered, not that she’d ever admit to that.
“Aww, don’t be like that, Jinxie.” you kissed her cheek just to watch her blush more, “I just appreciate you.”
Jinx’s face turned hotter and redder.
“As you should! I’m gonna—... Be in my room if you need me…”
You watched her march to her room and close the door with more force than necessary, and smiled. If you weren’t wrong, she definitely was very much into this.
---
It didn’t take long.
You were on her lap, legs on either side of her body as you kissed her. The kiss was something desperate like you both had been waiting for this very moment to pour all your love into this one kiss. You held both sides of Jinx’s face and she had her hands on your waist and lower back as she guided you on top of her.
The couch creaked ominously but you both ignored it.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.”
You kissed her again. This time it was sloppier.
Filled with more sensual need.
She moved you onto the couch, seating you and reversing positions—she knelt between your legs.
“You wanna do this?”
You nodded, helping her get your panties off. She tossed them to the side carelessly and groaned at the side of your soaked folds staring back at her. She used one hand to part your lips, and just admired it for a few seconds.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“I have too…”
You watched with half-lidded eyes as Jinx squeezed your thigh with her free hand, her tongue lapping at your juices first. She kissed your inner thighs when she moved closer, her nose probing against your throbbing clit.
“Oh… Jinx…”
“Moan my name,” she licked a bold stripe over your cunt.
She was obsessed with your taste before she even had it properly. She delved her tongue inside, moaning herself when she got a proper taste of you. Both her hands wrapped around your waist and she tugged you closer, smothering her face with your cunt.
You fisted her hair, grabbing the couch with your other hand.
“Jinx— fuck!”
Your moans got her wet and needier, her pace speeding up as she tongue-fucked you. You tugged at her hair lightly, whimpering and moaning her name.
Your clit twitched with the need to be stimulated. That’s when her tongue circled it.
She could read your body effortlessly, and she cared about you genuinely.
And that made you feel safer than anything else in the world.
Would you do arcane Women X pregnant reader!?? Xxxxxcxx
of course! thank you for the request <3 i swear i got another request that was the same but with postpartum care, i can't find it though?? anyways i'll include postpartum with them as well
❥・summary; arcane women (jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn) with pregnant reader, and how they'd care for her postpartum.
❥・tags/warnings; fluff, domesticity, pregnancy duh.., emeto warning, baby is an unnamed girl! so that you can choose your own name!, some hurt/comfort, some medical talk, mentions of pp depression, overall very happy and sweet though.
❥・wc; 11.1k
── .✦ jinx;
₊˚ෆ when you find out, you’re not sure how jinx is going to react. you haven’t really talked about the possibility of kids beyond “our kids will think we’re so embarrassing” jokes or “one day, if we have kids..”, nothing actually concrete about it. and knowing how unpredictable she can be, you’re not sure how you should go about it, either.
₊˚ෆ you go through all of the options in your head. there’s the ‘bun in the oven’ schtick, there’s showing her the tests you have lined up like christmas lights, or giving her a onesie.. but you decide on going simple. you’re in her hideout, taking notes for one of her experiments. you can barely hear your own voice over the sound of her blowtorch. “jinx?”
₊˚ෆ she doesn’t hear you the first time, so you try again, louder. “jinx? i need to talk to you about something.” she purses her lips, rotating the device she has in her hand, “can it wait? i just need another minute-” but the second the girl sees your face, she drops what she’s doing. “..baby, what’s up?”
₊˚ෆ your heart feels like it might leap out through your throat. you press your lips into a thin line, meeting her eyes, knowing that this conversation is going to change everything. there’s no embellishments, just a simple, whispered, “..i’m pregnant.”
₊˚ෆ jinx doesn’t react at first. just stares at you, face unmoving. “..you’re serious?” she asks, and all you can do is nod. then it’s like a flip switches- the girl jumps out of her chair, wide smile breaking out, and runs to take you in her arms. “holy shit, holyshitholyshit- you’re pregnant!” she peppers kisses on your cheeks, nose, jawline, forehead, lips, anywhere she can reach while holding you in a vice grip. the nerves you had before melt away, taken by a fit of giggles as your girlfriend positively smothers you.
₊˚ෆ “jinx, i can’t breathe!” you laugh, and she pulls back- only for a second, buzzing with excitement before she presses another flurry of kisses to your face. “but i just- oh my god, we’re having a baby!”
₊˚ෆ jinx has always been fiercely protective, but that increases tenfold. to start off, you’re not allowed in the workshop anymore. she cuts down on how many explosives she makes, but regardless, she’s using blowtorches, gunpowder, toxic chemicals, and working around sharp objects. despite the fact that you’ve never injured yourself there, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, especially now.
₊˚ෆ that, and she’s very insistent on getting the right amount of sleep, making sure you eat (and eat healthy), and aren’t doing too many strenuous things. is it a bit overbearing? maybe sometimes, but you recognize that it’s jinx’s way of showing she cares. it’s sweet. she’s there to hold your hair back when you’re puking your guts out, and she’s holding down the fort when you’re dead asleep (which is more often than not during the first trimester).
₊˚ෆ jinx is a mess when you start showing, oh my god. you’re brushing your teeth together after having just rolled out of bed- which jinx was very vocally against, but you managed to convince her to get up- when you spit out your toothpaste and rinse out your mouth. then you take a step back and stretch your arms above your head, releasing all the tension, but your shirt lifts. and there’s an unmistakable little curve there.
₊˚ෆ “toots, you’re-” “huh?” she drops her toothbrush immediately and drops to her knees in front of you. jinx lifts your shirt up, eyes flitting between you and your bump as if asking for permission. “go ahead. it’s your baby, too,” you murmur. jinx shudders at those words. it’s her baby, too. she places a trembling hand over your stomach, and tears start falling as her hand flattens. your fingers start combing through her hair as you try to keep from crying yourself.
₊˚ෆ jinx will drop anything she’s doing for you. she was like that before, but gods. she can be in the middle of making something incredibly important, and the second she hears her name called, she’s by your side. holding you, or making those abominations of cravings you have, or eating them with you. she can be out running errands and she just gets a feeling that you need her, and she’s running back to the hideout.
₊˚ෆ jinx starts finally making safe things :’) lots of toys! she makes rattles, shakers, little pianos, and lots of interactive light-up toys. she makes a few block puzzles. playing is lots of fun, but she wants your baby to be able to learn from the toys, as well! and of course they’re all brightly colored. some even play music.
₊˚ෆ jinx might’ve been a mess when you started showing, but when she feels the baby kick for the first time? she’s a wreck. beyond saving. you’re sitting together, watching some trashy reality show on tv, when you feel it. like a little thump-thump from inside. you gasp, and jinx is immediately on alert- “everything okay, trinket?” you nod, quickly grabbing jinx’s hand and placing it flat over your belly.
₊˚ෆ her expression falters in confusion at first, and then she feels it. a little kick underneath her hand. and jinx crumbles. tears roll down her face while she blubbers something about “holy shit, that’s them, that’s our baby,” and she keeps her hand there in hopes of feeling another.
₊˚ෆ after that, jinx very frequently does poke around to try and coax the baby to kick, she’s just amazed by the feeling every time. but after she gets one or two she tells them to stop so you can catch a break lol.
₊˚ෆ she loves going to your appointments and hearing that the baby is doing well, but she likes seeing them the best. even though they’re tiny and blurry right now, that’s your baby. it’s so bizarre to her, in the best way.
₊˚ෆ jinx, the woman who isn’t scared of enforcers, heights, or explosions, is genuinely afraid of a hormonal you. when you start cussing her out and saying you hate her because she accidentally left the cupboard open, or because you’re sore and “you did this to me, you asshole,” she’s doing everything in her power to try and keep you happy. and when you’re on the other side, crying over the littlest things- she doesn’t mock you, or think twice about whatever it is that’s so upsetting to you. she’s just there to comfort you.
₊˚ෆ “toots, please, just tell me what’s wrong,” she murmurs, thumbs brushing under your eyes to collect your tears. you sniffle, gesturing toward the bag of baby carrots you were just eating- “i can’t- i can’t eat that one! it’s so little and innocent, and oh god, if i eat them all there’ll be one that’s left alone, that’s so mean-” she gently shushes you as you collapse into her arms, her hands running up and down your back.
₊˚ෆ when you both find out it’s a girl, jinx is so excited :( she loves you so much, and she imagines your baby as a mini-you. doesn’t even consider the possibility of her bearing any resemblance to herself.
₊˚ෆ if you ever express any insecurity about how you look, whether that be hormonal acne, or weight gain, or just the bump, jinx is so quick to reassure you and kiss all of your worries away. “you have no idea how gorgeous you look right now, trinket,” she huffs, saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean, you’re all glow-y and stuff! and you’re growing a whole person! how cool is that?!”
₊˚ෆ also talks to the baby fairly often! she calls her ‘princess,’ and often lays face-to-face with your stomach with a fond little smile on her lips. talking about her daily adventures, bragging about how incredible you are and how lucky your baby is to have you for a mom- but mostly just how excited she is to meet her.
₊˚ෆ “y’know, princess, i keep counting down the days until mama’s due date,” she says, poking around in hopes of feeling movement. “i can’t wait to see your little face, and hold you.. woah!” she gasps, breaking into a wide smile as she feels a particularly strong kick (which you let out a little ‘oof’ at). “you’re getting really strong, huh? settle down, though. don’t go hurting your mom.”
₊˚ෆ jinx does tend to overthink, though, and she gets in her head about so many things. she can barely take care of herself most days, how the hell is she gonna be a mother? she worries that she’ll jinx your baby, she’ll accidentally hurt her somehow, that she’s not good enough of a person to have this- but you’re always there to wipe her tears and reassure her. cradling her face in your hands, you tell her, “this?” you nod towards your bump. “she’s proof of you doing something good. she doesn’t know any of the things you’ve done, she just knows that you’re her mom and you love her.” cue jinx sobbing and soaking your hands.
₊˚ෆ as you enter your third trimester and start becoming less mobile, jinx picks up a lot more of the slack. she handles all of the laundry, cooking (she’s forced to get good at it rather quickly), cleaning, etc, where you two evenly split those tasks before. she’s also even more protective over you- constantly helping you up when you’re having a hard time, helping you get from one place to another when you’re sore. she’s given more back massages and foot rubs than she can count.
₊˚ෆ she’s fussing over you just as much during labor. whether you want to do it with or without medication is up to you, but she’s bossing the nurses around constantly and doesn’t leave your side for a second. even though she’s panicking, and it breaks her heart clean in half to see you in so much pain, she has to hold herself together for you. she presses firm kisses to your forehead while telling you over and over again how strong you are, and that it’ll be over soon.
₊˚ෆ when she hears that first piercing cry.. oh jinx is gone. she gasps, tears immediately pooling in her eyes as the doctors hold up what looks like a squirming, wet blob and announces that it’s a healthy baby girl. while they get her cleaned up, jinx quickly asks how you’re doing, to which you tell her, “i’m fine. just tired. so fucking tired.”
₊˚ෆ you’re in tears the entire time you hold your little one, and even more of a wreck when you see jinx holding her. most of her features mirror yours, except for those big eyes of jinx’s and blue hair. the girl holds your baby with such reverence, so gently, it makes you ache.
₊˚ෆ after you’re allowed to come home, jinx makes sure the transition is as easy as possible for both of you. she makes sure that you’re resting enough after literally pushing a human out of you, while she cradles your daughter close and comforts her through her tears.
₊˚ෆ she’s up late with your baby just as many nights as you are. you split the responsibility, but some nights she insists on you getting your rest- she’ll take care of whatever it is. and jinx is so loving throughout all of it, she’s become an expert at changing diapers and she holds your baby so sweetly when she just needs some mommy cuddles :(
₊˚ෆ when you’re allowed back into her workshop, you see all of your ultrasound photos framed on her workbench.
₊˚ෆ jinx knows postpartum depression is a possibility, she wants to make sure you feel cared for through this beautiful yet rough transition. she’ll take care of your hair while you’re feeding your baby, hold you close and kiss you while she naps, and engage in your favorite hobbies with you when she’s put to bed for the night. you’re a mother, but that’s not all you are either.
₊˚ෆ she takes the six-week rule very seriously, and extends it to ten weeks at the very least. while usually she’d indulge you whenever you wanted, your body has gone through something incredibly traumatic and she couldn’t live with herself if she did anything while there was a chance of you getting hurt. even if you insist that you’re fine, the farthest jinx will go is some making out with heavy petting until your doctor gives you the go-ahead. she makes sure that you’ll feel loved in other ways, don’t worry <3
₊˚ෆ and omg.. seeing jinx with your baby is the cutest thing ever :’) she loves holding her, sometimes more for her comfort than the baby’s. she’s always kissing her little cheeks, and cooing at her- “you’re the cutest thing i’ve ever seen! yes you are, you little angel,” between kisses. playing with her and seeing that little gummy smile. “there’s that smile, princess..”
₊˚ෆ jinx is amazing at calming her down, and often can do it just by talking to her. it’s no doubt due to how much she talked to her while she was in the womb. your baby has always known jinx’s voice as a source of comfort.
₊˚ෆ as your daughter gets a little older, you’re starting to see more of jinx in her. not in her features, those are still all you. but in her personality. gods help you all.
── .✦ vi;
₊˚ෆ you and vi have talked about kids, albeit briefly. you know that vi would like kids one day, but she doesn’t have a concrete plan. you’re on the same page, and you’ve agreed that you don’t want a big family. but there haven’t been any in-depth conversations about when that’ll happen, and under what circumstances.
₊˚ෆ when you find out you’re pregnant, you’re at a bit of a standstill. this wasn’t planned at all, and you’re not sure how to tell vi. do you go the simple route? do you do something a little more out there? when do you even tell her? after some time, though, you hide the tests and devise a plan.
₊˚ෆ after going out to some shops, making a few arrangements, and sleeping on it, you sit vi down with a little smile. you’ve told her that you have a gift, sitting beside her and putting a box on her lap. she returns your smile, giving a modest “oh, you shouldn’t have.” the woman lifts the lid, and immediately frowns slightly in confusion. she holds up a onesie, and tilts her head, like she’s studying it.
₊˚ෆ “a.. a onesie? what’s this f-ohmygodyou’repregnant.” she drops the box like its burned her and throws her arms around you, burying her head in the crook of your neck and placing a flurry of kisses there. it tickles, and your laughter proves contagious.
₊˚ෆ “we’re really- oh, fuck,” she laughs,
pressing one final kiss to your lips. vi pulls back, and her eyes flicker to your stomach. “can i..?” you blink, still getting used to how real all of this is, but you nod. vi slowly reaches out to flatten her hand over your still-flat middle, and gasps. there’s really nothing to feel yet, but the fact that there will be soon makes vi so weak.
₊˚ෆ she already is such a natural provider and takes such good care of you, but gods, those tendencies multiply now. she keeps track of how much sleep you’re getting, helps you through all of your bouts of morning sickness, makes sure you’re getting enough water (even though it just makes you have to pee 100x more).. sometimes you have to tell her that you’re grown and can handle yourself, but you know that she cares and worries.
₊˚ෆ makes sure that you have all of your cravings, even if they’re the most disgusting things she’s ever seen and even if they’re from a restaurant that’s closed. don’t ask how she got those noodles you were craving from a very specific place at 2am, vi has her ways.
₊˚ෆ when you start showing vi is soooo in awe, she knew that you were pregnant but seeing physical proof is truly something else. her hands are constantly somewhere on the bump, she loves just feeling your baby and seeing them grow :’) also constantly telling you how beautiful you are. vi will have you in front of a full-length mirror, arms around you while her lips brush your jawline. “you’re so pretty, cupcake, y’know that?” another kiss to your cheek. “you’re amazing. the strongest woman i know.”
₊˚ෆ if you start expressing any insecurity, vi is nipping it right in the bud. “hey, listen to me,” she says, holding your face in both of her hands. “i don’t care how many zits you get, or how much your body changes, or how sweaty or ‘gross’ or whatever you call it you get. i love you, i think you’re the most gorgeous woman in the entire world-“ you let out a shaky laugh through tears. “-and i’ll never stop thinking that.”
₊˚ෆ vi comes to all of your appointments of course, and makes sure you’re taking all of your prenatals- she’s fussing over you and asking the doctors a million questions. she goes speechless every time she sees your baby on the ultrasound screen, and fawns over how cute they are even while they’re the size of a mango and don’t have any discernible features :’)
₊˚ෆ when you two find out it’s a girl, vi cries. she’s just happy that the two of you have a healthy baby, but she loves the idea of having a mini you.. and of course, she gets started on the nursery very quickly. vi builds a crib, she paints the room- you insisted you could help, but she shooed you out because the fumes aren’t good for you or the baby.
₊˚ෆ while you handle a lot of the shopping for clothes, toys, baby supplies, vi handles manual labor. especially as you get further into the pregnancy, vi picks up a lot of the work around the house.
₊˚ෆ your first time feeling the baby kick together, both of you cry. you’re out together, shopping for newborn clothes, when you feel a little movement- and you think you’re imagining things at first. but then you feel it again, firmer this time, and you stop dead in your tracks. vi turns to you with a concerned expression, “is everything okay, honey?” she murmurs. you nod, a little smile tugging at your lips. “more than okay. here, here, feel.”
₊˚ෆ you take vi’s hand and guide it to your bump, looking down and whispering, “come on, let mom feel. give her a kick.” it takes a moment, but eventually, there’s a kick right under vi’s palm. she gasps and pulls back, but her hand is back there just as quickly. “oh my god,” she breathes out, voice shaky and tears welling in her eyes- “that’s her. that’s really her, she’s moving..”
₊˚ෆ within seconds, she’s bawling in the middle of the store, and you’re right there with her.
₊˚ෆ while vi is constantly worrying about you and hovering over you, she also really wants to make sure that you don’t lose yourself in pregnancy and oncoming motherhood. she’s still constantly taking you on dates, spoiling you, making you feel special. because you are!!
₊˚ෆ you stay up for hours on end talking about possible names. vi really wants to leave the decision to you (of course she’ll tell you if she really doesn’t like a name, though) since you’re the one carrying the baby, but you insist on her opinion too. “come on, you’re her mom, too!” she rolls her eyes affectionately, and turns the book of names in front of you to to face her. “alright, alright.. i mean, i like this one, but it’s really up to you, babe.”
₊˚ෆ an absolute saint when it comes to dealing with your hormones. she doesn’t care that you’re laughing one second and sobbing into her arms the next, or yelling at her because she put your favorite sweater in the dryer and it shrunk.. sometimes you’ve got such severe pregnancy brain and you cry because you can’t remember anything. vi’s there every step of the way. calming you down, holding you, gently swaying you through everything. you always ask how she puts up with you, and she tells you that there is no ‘putting up’ with you. it’s just what you do when you love someone.
₊˚ෆ like i’ve said in previous posts, vi doesn’t have much in the way of money, but she’s very good with budgeting and saving. she saves enough that she can take off work to stay with you in the final stretch of pregnancy, making the final preparations for your baby and making sure you’re comfortable.
₊˚ෆ “she’s getting so heavy,” you whine, rubbing at your lower back with a wince. vi’s hand replaces yours, guiding you to the couch and helping you sit so that your back is facing her. she gives what’s probably the tenth massage of the day, while singing your praises and simultaneously (playfully) scolding your baby for giving you so much trouble.
₊˚ෆ vi gets you one of those pregnancy pillows and you just about sob from the relief it gives you. you’re living in that thing the last two months, and vi is often holding you from behind, one hand splayed across your stomach. she talks to the baby frequently, too, usually just about her day or whatever’s on her mind. but also a lot about how much she already loves her.
₊˚ෆ “mommy and i didn’t do much today, we stayed in and rested.. cause she’s working real hard to grow you. you oughta be a little nicer to her,” she chuckles, her thumb stroking the skin as she feels a little movement. “we’re so excited to meet you. i know i’ve told you that a million times, but i really can’t wait to just hold you, and love you.. i’ve loved you since the minute your mommy told me about you.”
₊˚ෆ vi is so supportive throughout the whole labor process. she drives you to the hospital, keeps a steady hand on your knee while you bite back tears and groan of pain. she’s knelt by your bed, lovingly cradling your face and whispering soft praises to you.
₊˚ෆ the decision is ultimately up to you in terms of whether or not you want to get the epidural, but vi strongly encourages you to get at least some kind of pain medication. she can’t stand seeing you in such excruciating pain, and if there’s anything that can be done to help you, she wants to take full advantage.
₊˚ෆ it’s a long and difficult process, but it’s so worth it once you hear that first cry. loud, unabashed. vi gasps, and your eyes stay fixed on your squirming daughter while she’s cleaned up. all of the pain and exhaustion melts away the second she’s placed on your chest- running the back of her hand against her little cheek while vi kisses your forehead. “she’s so perfect, i’m so fucking proud of you.”
₊˚ෆ your baby bears a lot of resemblance to vi, with her eyes and lips, as well as face shape. but she has your nose and hair color :) a perfect mix of the two of you!
₊˚ෆ thankfully, vi gets paid maternity leave for a few months after your daughter is born. shes brought home in the same onesie you gave vi when you announced your pregnancy. vi is constantly by both of your sides- she loves holding your baby and baby-wearing. she insists that you rest the first couple of weeks, focus on your health and bonding with your daughter, vi can take care of everything else.
₊˚ෆ oh my god she’s so in love with your daughter. she feels terrible whenever she has to put her down for a nap, she wishes she could just hold her forever :( and seeing you settling into motherhood makes vi fall in love with you all over again.
₊˚ෆ vi helps you shower during the first few days postpartum, washes your hair for you, cooks for you. she makes sure that while your baby is sleeping, you can watch the movies you like together and play games, or you can ramble about whatever book you’ve been reading.. you might not be able to go outside much, though she still wants to make sure you feel loved and cared for. “hey. she’s sleeping, you wanna get the switch and load up animal crossing?”
₊˚ෆ vi takes you to all of your checkups and plays with the baby while you’re being seen. she helps you pump, rubs ointments on your chapped nipples and stretch marks, helps you with any bleeding you may have following the birth. the woman is incredibly affectionate, as always, but she holds a firm line on how far she’ll go because just the thought of hurting you makes her sick.
₊˚ෆ vi is up with your daughter just as much as you are, and doesn’t complain about being tired once. she’s exhausted, honestly, but more than happy to comfort her, give her one of the bottles you’ve pumped.. a lot of the times, you’ll wake up in the morning alone, and when you walk into the nursery, you see vi and your daughter asleep together on the rocking chair.
₊˚ෆ your baby loves her so much, loves being in her strong arms and feeling her mom kiss her tiny forehead <3 and once she’s old enough to start playing more, her personality showing, a lot of it comes from you! which vi is ecstatic about. as far as she’s concerned, she got the mini-you that she hoped for.
── .✦ mel;
₊˚ෆ you’ve talked about kids before, in-depth. you want children, but you also both wanted to make sure that everything was done when both of you are ready. no surprises or coincidences. you’ve been together for four years, married for one, when you start experiencing the symptoms.
₊˚ෆ you’re exhausted all day, every day. you wake up often before sunrise to throw up, your mood has been erratic. and most of all, your period’s late. all signs point to one answer.
₊˚ෆ five positive pregnancy tests prove that true. you’re happy, truly- you and mel have both wanted this for a while. still, it’s nerve-wracking trying to figure out how you’re going to tell her. what your next steps will be.
₊˚ෆ you don’t want to do anything too simple, but you don’t feel the need to throw a party and announce it to the whole of piltover either. what you settle on is ordering something that’ll tell her, in a sweet but relaxed way.
₊˚ෆ you and mel have your tea together most days, and you brew hers just the way she likes. she always kisses your cheek with a sweet “thank you, beautiful,” sighing at the taste of her tea. today, you’ve decided to bring out new mugs that are heat-reactive.
₊˚ෆ you brewed the tea as usual, giving mel just the amount of sugar she likes- greeted with the same kiss and ‘thank you’ as always. your heart is beating so fast you can feel it in your fingertips, trembling as you try to drink. mel seems none the wiser, which you thank the gods for, considering how observant she usually is.
₊˚ෆ she places the mug on the table briefly, opening her mouth as if to say something, but the woman’s eyes go wide as she registers the mug. it was white, just a minute ago, but now reads ‘MOM.’ and yours mirrors it.
₊˚ෆ “you’re.. this isn’t a joke, is it?” mel asks, breathless. you shake your head, a small yet nervous smile on your lips. “it’s not. we’re.. i’m pregnant.” the woman is silent for a moment, simply taking it all in, and you’re about to ask her to say something when she turns and wraps you in one of the tightest hugs she’s ever given you. she presses firm kisses to your cheeks, your jawline, your nose, before finally claiming your lips.
₊˚ෆ mel sounds near the point of tears. “you’re incredible. amazing. i.. wow, you’re really pregnant..”
₊˚ෆ mel has always been protective over you, but not to the extent someone like jinx or vi would be. she’s very adamant on letting you hold your ground as she doesn’t want to smother you. since finding out that you’re pregnant, though, she’s gotten significantly more protective. she makes sure that you’re not going out alone if you don’t have to, you’re getting the right amount of food, sleep, and water. she also tries not to talk to you too much about her council duties, it’s not out of wanting to be secretive but rather not wanting to put too much stress on you or the baby.
₊˚ෆ she’s constantly spoiling you and making sure you feel beautiful and loved, because you are!! mel regularly brings flowers home for you, she holds your hair back when you get sick and then fixes it up for you. she’s constantly kissing your cheeks, whispering soft words like, “you’re like an angel. truly, i can’t take my eyes off of you,” and “you’ve never glowed like this. it’s captivating.”
₊˚ෆ omg when you’re starting to show mel is in awe. she doesn’t want to smother you by constantly touching your bump, but she is looking more often than not. during the first few months, you occasionally guide her hand to your stomach when you see her looking for a little longer than usual and reassure her that she doesn’t need to be afraid or ask.
₊˚ෆ mel makes sure that you don’t have to work or do anything too strenuous during your pregnancy, she’ll take care of it. of course she makes sure that you can still engage in the things you love, like your hobbies and passions so that you’re still keeping busy, just not in that way.
₊˚ෆ finds you the best OBGYN piltover has to offer and gets you in immediately. if you decide you don’t like them? she’s finding you another- only the best and most comfortable for her love. and she comes along to every single appointment, in awe of seeing your baby during the ultrasounds. both of you cried the first time you heard their heartbeat. of course she asks a million and one questions about yours and baby’s health, she just cares a lot.
₊˚ෆ she frames and hangs all of the ultrasound pictures on the walls, they’re so dear to her <3
₊˚ෆ mel was so ecstatic when you two found out you were having a girl, that way you two can start properly discussing names (although there’s a few neutral contenders too)! she always refers to your daughter as ‘princess’ or ‘beautiful’
₊˚ෆ mel reads up on all of the parenting books, and even takes the liberty to go to a few parenting classes. she’s had children under her care before, but only for brief periods. and of course, they weren’t hers. she really does want to make sure that she’s prepared as best she can be, and she knows how to help you.
₊˚ෆ mel was beyond words the first time you felt your baby kick, right as you were about to go to sleep. bracketed in her arms, mel spooning you from behind with one hand cradling your belly, you both felt that first little kick. “is that..?” “yeah, that’s her,” you whisper, and the woman presses her hand a little firmer in hopes of feeling another. she’s hooked on the feeling, as physical proof that your child is healthy and growing. as it gets later in the pregnancy, mel finally gets it in her head that she doesn’t have to ask to feel her kick.
₊˚ෆ she loves talking to the baby too! makes it a point to do so first thing every morning, and right before bed, as well as several times in between. she likes to tell her about her days, but she mostly brags about you and tells her how much she loves her already. “you have the most incredible mother in the world, you’re a lucky one,” she presses a little kiss over the bump- “i love you more every day, angel, and you’re not even out here with us yet..”
₊˚ෆ when hormones start to hit full-force, mel is there every second. you need space? you’ve got it. collapsing into tears because you accidentally spilled some detergent? mel is on her way, holding you and rocking you side to side while she whispers sweet nothings. she knows that your mood can swing from one extreme to another, and she’s become a professional at handling it.
₊˚ෆ mel’s also become a pro at giving massages and helping you feel comfortable as you get more and more sore, and less mobile. she frequently runs hot baths and will sit by the edge of the tub to just talk to you, and she helps you adjust positions while trying to sleep when it gets too difficult. also playfully, but sweetly pleads with your daughter to ease up on you.
₊˚ෆ she does get in her head, though, because of her own difficult relationship with her late mother. late at night, after all of piltover’s gone to sleep, she tells you her deepest fears- that she’ll end up exactly like her mom. that your baby deserves so much better than her. that she’ll inevitably damage your baby. every time, you’re there to kiss the tears from the corners of her eyes and reassure her that she’s the best mom this baby could have. she’s going to be perfect, hell, she already is.
₊˚ෆ mel gets the best possible baby clothes for her. not flashy, but cute and high quality.. even though you tell her that your daughter will grow out of the clothes sooner than she can actually wear them, mel insists on her having options. she has lots of cute onesies that’ll keep her warm, a few dresses, some headbands, lots of cute socks and booties too!
₊˚ෆ naturally gets you lots of gorgeous maternity clothes as well. a lot of maternity clothes you see are.. boring, for lack of a better word, and she does a great job at finding things that make you feel cute <3
₊˚ෆ she lets you paint and help with some of the organizing of the nursery, but mel insists on handling all of the heavy lifting. when you pout and insist you can do it, mel gives a soft smile and brushes her lips against your forehead. “i know you can, but you shouldn’t,” she murmurs. “it’s only for a little while longer, love. i’m only trying to look out for you,” a pause, as her hand trails down to your bump. “and her.”
₊˚ෆ takes off work during your last two months. thankfully, there’s not much (if any) pushback from the council. however, there is a bit of fascination with the fact that mel medarda is having a child, and she often has to tell people off for asking too many questions. while she’s gotten used to a life in the spotlight, all of piltover’s eyes on her, that’s the last thing she wants for you or your baby. mel is very protective over your privacy in particular.
₊˚ෆ as your due date approaches, mel finds you a midwife that’s renowned across the city. although the OBGYN was perfect, she wanted something different for the actual birth.mel figured it’d be easier for you to deliver your baby in the comfort of your home, yet still under the care of a professional. she does have the OBGYN call in case anything goes awry, but thankfully, it doesn’t.
₊˚ෆ the woman strongly encourages you to get some kind of pain relief. just seeing you wince at strong kicks or struggle to get off the couch is hard enough, but this is another level. while you’re doing something wonderful, mel wishes she could take all of your pain. she does end up being able to talk you into some medication, but anything more than that is up to you.
₊˚ෆ she’s right by your side the entire time. standing over you, brushing sweaty hair back from your forehead, wiping your tears. “you’re so strong, darling, so strong,” she whispers. “she’s almost here. come on, just a little more.
₊˚ෆ it’s a long night of screaming and pushing, but the midwife and mel are both your rocks. and all of that pain is long forgotten when your daughter is placed on your chest, wailing and squirming- but settling down the second she hears your voice. her little eyes blink up at you, then fix on mel, and it takes everything in your wife to not crumble on the spot.
₊˚ෆ “she’s beautiful,” she whispers, placing the softest kiss on your baby’s forehead. “you were incredible, love. thank you. thank you.” her voice falters at the end. tears prick the corners of her eyes, and you have to ask, “for what?” “for giving us this. her.”
₊˚ෆ she has an even mix of your features- with mel’s nose, your eyes, your lips, mel’s face shape, your cheekbones. mel would’ve been ecstatic either way (especially if she came out looking exactly like you), but seeing her own features mirrored in her daughter is so special to her.
₊˚ෆ when you’re allowed to come home, mel is pampering the both of you like no tomorrow. not only is she so in awe of your baby, but she sees to making sure you’re taken care of. especially during the first few weeks, she’s insistent on you getting more rest than her (even though most nights are sleepless anyways) since, in her words, “you just pushed a human being out of you.”
₊˚ෆ mel holds your daughter while you shower, she helps you pump, she often takes her while you’re eating and slowly getting back to your hobbies. finding yourself within motherhood.
₊˚ෆ she’s such a sweet mother. sometimes, mel holds your daughter more for her comfort than the baby’s. she’s constantly kissing her little chubby cheeks, kissing her tiny fists, telling her after every nap that she’s “mommy’s little sweetheart..” she falls into the role so naturally.
₊˚ෆ and with that, she falls in love with you all over again seeing you settle into motherhood. that sweet smile on your face every time that your baby wiggles in your grasp, the way you rock her to sleep. how you stroke her wispy, curly hairs while she feeds. even while you’re covered in spit-up and heavy bags are clinging to your undereyes, you both are the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.
₊˚ෆ makes sure that you feel loved on your own, especially with a newborn. mel is super adamant about the six-week (which she extends to at least nine/ten) rule, but she’s constantly showing her love in other ways. kissing you until you’re both breathless, talking about your recent reads with you, cradling you in her arms, kissing each of your stretch marks.
₊˚ෆ she’s very aware of the possibility of postpartum depression, which is why she also secures a therapist for you pretty early on. even if you’re not showing signs of ppd, she wants you to be able to have a healthy and clinical setting to be able to work out all of the stresses of being a new mother.
₊˚ෆ baby’s personality is also a pretty clean blend of the two of you. she has mel’s sweetness, her kind laugh, but your temper and smile.
── .✦ sevika;
₊˚ෆ sevika never saw herself wanting kids. she’s always had a bit of a soft spot, truly, even though she’d never admit it- seeing a smiling baby or a kid holding their parents’ hands could always brighten her day even if just a little bit. but for her? sevika doesn’t see herself as someone fit to be a mother. especially not a good mother.
₊˚ෆ she doesn’t let herself think about the idea much more than that until she meets you, and she realizes that she could see that for herself. if, and only if, it was with you. but how does she bring that up? especially when she’s so used to having walls miles high, and she’s only just starting to tell you about her feelings. surface-level feelings.
₊˚ෆ all of that to say, you haven’t properly talked about kids. so when you found out that you were pregnant, you were terrified. you know sevika, that she isn’t just the tough, brash woman she presents to the world, but you have no idea how she’s going to react to being told you’re pregnant. you take test after test, figuring it might be a false positive, but each test is the same. it’s not that you don’t want this baby, you want it more than you can express. it’s all just.. scary.
₊˚ෆ you debate how you’re going to tell sevika. a grand announcement with poppers and loud music doesn’t seem fitting, neither does a surprise of something for a baby.. you go through a lot of options in your head, but decide that simply telling her straight-up is the best option.
₊˚ෆ so you sit her down. she’s across from you, lighting up a cigar, while you have your hands folded in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. working up the nerve. “everything alright?” she asks, and you slowly nod. “you don’t sit me down to talk when things are alright.”
₊˚ෆ and sevika’s right, for the most part. you pinch the bridge of your nose, sigh, and finally bring your eyes to the woman. “sevika, look- i’m..” you sigh, and she looks at you with a cocked brow. “pregnant. here.” you hand her a folded-up strip of ultrasound pictures, which she slowly accepts and unfolds. sevika’s expressions don’t tell you much, which heightens your anxiety even more.
₊˚ෆ but slowly, sevika rises and takes you into her arms- burying her head in the crook of your neck. you sink into her embrace, needing it much more than she does- “..baby? what are you thinking?” you whisper. “i’m happy.” “you’re happy?” she pulls back, just to press her lips to yours again, and again, “of course i am. look, that’s.. our baby.”
₊˚ෆ sevika is in full mama bear mode from the beginning. she gets enough prenatals to last you the entire pregnancy, and probably have some left over. she makes sure that you’re getting all the food you should, all the sleep you should- while still being able to keep occupied with the things that make you happy. sevika often brings you things like books, video games, or embroidery kits- whatever it is you like that’ll keep your mind and hands busy, but won’t be physically stressful.
₊˚ෆ sevika’s always keeping you close while out together, not to an overbearing degree- but now, it does get a little overbearing. not in a way that’s suffocating, but just shows how much the woman cares. she glares down anyone whose eyes linger on you for too long, she keeps a hand curled tight around your waist. if anyone tries reaching out for your stomach, they’re about as good as dead.
₊˚ෆ during your first trimester, you’re just so tired. so she doesn’t wake you for anything, stays as quiet as humanly possible to let you get your rest even if you never feel rested these days. she’ll ease you through bouts of morning sickness, and comfort you when you say you feel gross :(
₊˚ෆ “god, i’m disgusting right now,” you scoff, slowly rising to your feet. sevika steadies you with her prosthetic, you go over to the sink to rinse your mouth out and brush your teeth and feel the woman’s arms wrap around you from behind. “you’re anything but disgusting,” she mutters. “your body’s just goin’ through a lot right now.”
₊˚ෆ when you start showing, sevika is so in awe. she’s constantly touching your belly throughout the pregnancy, it’s just so fascinating to her. and when she can see the physical proof of your baby, it just makes something in her melt. sevika isn’t used to soft, or vulnerable, but she’ll do her damndest to be that for your baby.
₊˚ෆ and of course, she won’t let any insecurity slip by. she kisses each blooming stretch mark, lovingly calls them your baby’s ‘first drawings.’ she whispers soft reassurances to you in the night, when you feel the most down about yourself. “you’re still the beautiful, badass woman i fell in love with,” she presses a firm yet tender kiss to your jawline. “no amount of stretch marks, or size change, or any of that bullshit could ever change how i see you.”
₊˚ෆ sevika was in awe the first time that she felt your baby kick. she had her flesh hand on your bump, talking to them about a (safe) adventure she’d had that day, when she feels a little thump against her hand. and she gasps.
₊˚ෆ “holy shit, did you feel that?” you giggle and nod, placing your hand over hers. “yeah, they’re inside me,” she huffs a laugh, but keeps her hand there and eyes focused on your stomach in hopes of feeling another kick.
₊˚ෆ sevika finds a good midwife in the undercity. one of the perks of being silco’s left hand is that she has connections, and she was able to get you in with someone fairly quickly. you got your own ultrasounds at first, but she wants you to have someone who’ll give you better individual care. of course sevika accompanies you to every appointment, sometimes even bosses the doctors around because she wants to know more or for them to be quicker.. you have to tell her to shush and let them do their job lol
₊˚ෆ she’s ecstatic when she finds out that you’re having a girl. she has to hold back tears- and from then on refers to your baby as her ‘princess.’ that soft spot in her that wanted kids and was afraid to tell you had yearned for a daughter, one who takes after you and reminds her of all the reasons she fell for you.
₊˚ෆ sevika is incredibly anxious, honestly. seeing as she only wanted kids recently, as she’s only allowed herself to love recently, it’s hard to picture herself as a mother. she’s caused so much tragedy and destruction in zaun, how can she be what a baby needs? she doesn’t voice all of these thoughts to you, but you know when she goes all quiet at night and holds you extra close, whispering to your baby that she deserves ‘so much better than me.’ you kiss her cheeks, nose, lips, whispering again and again that she has everything it takes to be a mom. the love she already has for your daughter and how dedicated she is to caring for you proves that.
₊˚ෆ makes all of your cravings for you, even if it’s some ungodly hour of night and it’s the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen. sometimes will even eat them with you so that she can see you smile, and pretend they’re delicious (she immediately rinses her mouth out afterward). anything to keep her love happy.
₊˚ෆ sevika does a lot of work for your baby, she built her crib by hand and bought her plenty of wooden toys. some puzzles and games for when she’s a little older. she wants your daughter to have the best of the best, and that’s exactly what she’ll get.
₊˚ෆ even if you ask, sevika won’t tell you anything about her work days. she didn’t like telling you anyways, because she likes to keep work separate from her personal life, but now? she has a better reason. two reasons. hearing about all of the dirty work she does while away and all of the people keeping close eyes on her, looking for the right moment to strike, will only stress you out. and by extension, will stress the baby out. whenever you ask how her day was, she just says “fine,” and changes the subject to ask how you’re doing.
₊˚ෆ she’s a professional at handling your hormones and takes it all in stride, bless her honestly. she’s holding you and gently shushing you if you’re crying because you can’t see your feet and you miss them or you saw something really cute online. she’s consoling you and gently calming you down if you’re angry over something as simple as dishes left in the sink. it’s hard and unpredictable, like a hurricane, but sevika has weathered storms before.
₊˚ෆ so good at pampering you. she helps you tie your shoes when you can’t see your feet any longer, helps you get off the couch when it’s too difficult to pull yourself up, helps you get things on the lowest shelves. also gives more massages to your back, feet, and ankles than she can count. runs you warm baths, always makes you tea in the mornings.. i could go on.
₊˚ෆ nearing the end of your pregnancy, you’re not allowed to lift a finger. again, of course you can hold onto the things that aren’t too strenuous and make you happy- but sevika is handling all of the housework. she’s going all of the heavy-lifting for the nursery. and if you try to protest, she’ll give you that look. you know the one.
₊˚ෆ she reads all of the pregnancy and parenting books. reads articles on her phone, too, even though she rarely uses the thing. sevika wants to be prepared to best help you and your baby, and honestly, she’s doing a wonderful job. you might be carrying your daughter, but sevika is carrying you through this.
₊˚ෆ sevika also does dial back her work. before, she would rarely ever take breaks (although she never misses your birthday or anniversary), but now, she has a pregnant partner and child to consider. during your last two months, she’s only working two days a week at most, silco and the chembarons be damned.
₊˚ෆ like i said, she loves feeling your baby kick. sometimes she’ll encourage her to give a kick or two, but quickly urges her to stop. especially when you complain or wince. “alright, princess, that’s enough,” she chuckles, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “mommy’s ribs aren’t a xylophone.”
₊˚ෆ sevika is so attentive during the entire process of birth- reminding you to breathe, with a steady hand on your shoulder and her lips brushing against your sweaty forehead. “breathe, sweetheart. hard part’s almost over.”
₊˚ෆ pain medication is up to you entirely, she won’t provide her input. though, it’s hard to tell on the outside that seeing you in so much pain is killing sevika. even if you’re doing something incredible.
₊˚ෆ when you hear that first shrill cry, the room goes still. sevika’s eyes are fixed on the wiggling, slimy little thing that is your daughter, yours follow the baby to watch as she’s quickly cleaned off and swaddled. the second she’s placed on your chest, you feel tears stinging your eyes, slowly falling.
₊˚ෆ she looks a lot like sevika, but still has a vague resemblance to you. she’s got sevika’s nose, her eye color, but your eye shape. your lips, and sevika’s face shape. her tiny hand grips your finger, and you choke a sob.
₊˚ෆ holding your baby is such a cathartic moment for her. she doesn’t think she’s ever actually held a newborn, and this baby is yours- a product of your love. she’s so perfect she could about cry, and she does when her little fingers curl into her shirt.
₊˚ෆ when you’re allowed to come home, sevika is constantly keeping supplies stocked to help with the bleeding that comes after birth. she rubs creams on your stretch marks and dry skin, and does chores while you’re napping. neither of you are getting much sleep these days, but she always insists on letting you nap. “you’re the one who went through hell.” “but-“ “i’ll manage. Sleep.”
₊˚ෆ constantly reminding you how beautiful and incredible you are despite changes. she isn’t loud about it, but she keeps an eye on your emotions to watch for any signs of postpartum depression. she’s already looked into a counselor if she needs to call one.
₊˚ෆ sevika is huge on skin-to-skin. you often find her laid down with your daughter on her chest, sevika’s top off while she rubs slow circles into her little back. and she coos soft words at her, gentleness still foreign to her. “you’re perfect. so perfect, i don’t know what to do with myself.”
₊˚ෆ sevika also really loves seeing you coming back into yourself, albeit slowly. picking up your old hobbies when you have the time, watching those stupid romcoms you like again and catching up with old friends. you’re a damn good mother, and an incredible person.
── .✦ caitlyn;
₊˚ෆ you and caitlyn have discussed children relatively in-depth. you know that you both would like them at some point, and you want to be in a good state financially and emotionally before you have them. so when you fall pregnant, you are in a good state- but finding the courage to tell caitlyn is a challenge regardless.
₊˚ෆ do you just tell her straight-up? is there supposed to be some big surprise and celebration? you’re not sure, and it leads you to telling her you’re pregnant by total accident.
₊˚ෆ you and caitlyn switch making meals, alternating what you’ll do each day, and today is caitlyn’s turn to make lunch. your appetite has increased with pregnancy, even if you can’t keep it down most mornings. how she hasn’t noticed that, you’re not sure.
₊˚ෆ she makes your favorite, which you appreciate more than you can put into words. but as it’s placed in front of you, you frown a bit seeing the plate. normally, this would be more than enough, but.. “could i have a little more, please, babe? since i’m eating for two now?”
₊˚ෆ caitlyn gives a little nod and smile. “of course, darling,” turning her back to get you a bigger portion, and then stops dead in her tracks. slowly turning back to face you, her mouth agape. “..eating for two?” it finally sinks in what you’ve said. your eyes blow wide, opening and closing your mouth. shit, what do you say?
₊˚ෆ “yes,” comes as a whisper, the only thing you can muster. your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest waiting for caitlyn’s reaction, but she puts your plate down on the counter to walk back over to you and wrap you in a tight embrace. she peppers soft kisses into the crook of your neck, “oh, darling,” she breathes out. “you’re serious? you’re pregnant?”
₊˚ෆ you nod against the woman, arms winding around her middle as you tilt your head back for her kisses. “i only took a million tests,” caitlyn giggles against your skin, and finally lifts her head to press a firm, yet tender kiss to your lips. “you’re amazing. so amazing, love.”
₊˚ෆ granted, caitlyn doesn’t know much about pregnancy, but she changes that very quickly. stops at piltover’s public library and checks out all of the books she can get her hands on. she reads them cover to cover, and is able to help you much better, but a lot of it also comes from just.. experiencing. caitlyn is learning alongside you.
₊˚ෆ she helps you through your bouts of morning sickness and makes sure that you’re at least hydrated when you can’t keep food down. she’s often at work during the times you’re napping, which works out, but when she’s home and you’re exhausted, she’ll shut herself in another room so there’s no chance of her accidentally waking you.
₊˚ෆ except you start getting a lot more clingy as the pregnancy progresses. caitlyn’s got no problems with that, she’s all too happy to hold you close to her chest and stroke your back while you sleep.
₊˚ෆ she’s ecstatic when you start showing. of course there’s been a baby there, but seeing physical proof of their growth is so incredible to caitlyn. she doesn’t want to overwhelm you with touch, but she does love to feel the bump. you have to tell the woman over and over again, “you don’t need to ask, okay? i don’t mind. touch all you want.”
₊˚ෆ she finds you one of the best doctors piltover has. you get your scans, ultrasounds, all of which show a healthy baby and show that your health is also where it should be.
₊˚ෆ she’s speechless the entire time you’re listening to your baby’s heartbeat for the first time. rhythmic and strong, it might be the best thing she’s ever heard- alongside your voice.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn doesn’t tell many people that you’re expecting. she keeps her circle small, preferring her privacy even under the scrutiny of piltover. that extends to you and your baby, especially you and your baby. she only told tobias and her supervisors, so that she could have the time off work when she needs it. but if there’s anyone else who knows, it’s because you told them.
₊˚ෆ the first time you felt your baby kick, you and caitlyn were laid in bed. you were curled up with a book, while caitlyn laid her head on your shoulder, her warm breath tickling the skin. you felt it then- a little push from inside you. and you felt it again, your eyes widening as you slowly put down the book. “is everything alright?” caitlyn immediately asks, but you nod and gently take her hand to guide it over your bump. you press down on the spot you just felt your baby kick. “here, cait. Feel.”
₊˚ෆ she gasps when she feels it. that sign of life, right underneath her palm. she tries to push down to coax a few more little movements, but to no avail. even so, that first kick is enough to make her entire night.
₊˚ෆ omg when she finds out it’s a girl she’s so excited.. caitlyn doesn’t have a preference anyway, she just wants a healthy child. but the thought of passing on her own clothes from when she was a little girl, getting to have lots of mommy-daughter time.. she’s just in awe. she can’t wait.
₊˚ෆ the naming is ultimately up to you. “your body is growing her, so you should name our little one,” as she puts it. but she does want to contribute to her middle name, or possibly influence the first name a little bit. caitlyn really does just want to honor her late mother, so if not her first name, your daughter ends up with ‘cassandra’ as a middle name.
₊˚ෆ additionally, she isn’t worried so much about how she’ll be as a mother (though she absolutely is worried about that, don’t get me wrong) as she is about the absence of cassandra. she wishes more than anything that your daughter could grow up knowing the warmth of her grandmother. you reassure her again and again how proud cassandra would be of caitlyn, and that your baby will know how much her grandmother would’ve loved her.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn is constantly touching your bump and whispering to it. sometimes even while you’re sleeping- but when you’re later into your pregnancy and the movements are enough to wake you, she limits this to while you’re awake.
₊˚ෆ “your mama and i went out to a bookstore today- she picked out some new stories, and we both looked at books for you. you’re gonna be a smart one, i can already tell.” and when caitlyn feels a kick to her palm, she gives a small chuckle, an unmoving smile on her face. “oh, is that your way of telling me i’m right, love?”
₊˚ෆ she doesn’t tell you much about her work. it’s already stressful and worrying to hear about, but while you’re pregnant? not good for you or the baby. so if you ask about her work day, she’ll likely tell you if it was good/bad/okay, but omits the details.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn is an expert at reassurance. you might feel insecure at some points because you look different, you’re a little more sweaty, hormonal acne, but she’s never noticed any of that and is devastated if you feel insecure about it. “darling, listen to me,” she says, voice firm yet soft as she cups your cheeks. “you’re doing something amazing. you’re so beautiful, so strong, and i just wish that you could see yourself through my eyes.”
₊˚ෆ very patient with you throughout pregnancy brain and hormones. she doesn’t question anything when you’re crying- she doesn’t flinch when you get irritated or angry. it’s a little hard sometimes to figure out where your anger is coming from, and that part frustrates her, but never you. sometimes you just cry because of pregnancy brain, and she’s always there to comfort you.
₊˚ෆ “i just- i can’t remember anything, and i feel like i can’t do anything, and i can’t focus! i hate it so much, i just wanna do things like normal,” you’re collapsing into a fit of sobs, tears streaming down your face. caitlyn is quick to take your trembling form into her arms, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. “shh, shh,” she whispers. “it’s okay. you’ll be back to yourself soon, i promise. i know it’s frustrating.”
₊˚ෆ also a master at helping you through pain and stiffness. she massages your feet, calves, back, anywhere that’s hurting, and encourages you to get some movement in when the pain isn’t unbearable. it’s good for both you and baby!
₊˚ෆ to add onto relief, caitlyn loves lifting up the underside of your belly. she holds you from behind, places her hands underneath and lifts, taking all of the pressure off your back and making you near groan in relief. you lean back into her so sweetly, the look of pure bliss on your face always makes caitlyn smile. and in a way, she’s holding your daughter before she’s out of the womb, which is so incredible to caitlyn. it’s a win-win.
₊˚ෆ she takes off of work for your entire third trimester. although she doesn’t like not working, she puts that aside so that she can take care of both you and your baby. even when you don’t need ‘caring for,’ simply keeping you company, discussing your future and how excited you both are makes everything worth it.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn found you the best doctors in the area for the birth. a team that specializes in labor and delivery with raving reviews.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn strongly encourages you to get the epidural. seeing you in pain feels like a dagger through her chest, and this is the worst pain you’ve ever felt. the final decision is up to you, but she’s happy when you decide to get at least some pain relief. she’s kissing your forehead, whispering soft reassurances to you the entire time.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn gives you her hand while you push, and you hold onto it like it’s your lifeline. “i know it hurts, love. gods, you’re amazing- squeeze my hand. break it if you need to. i’m not leaving.”
₊˚ෆ all of the difficulties are wiped from your memory when your daughter is placed on your chest, wiggling her tiny fingers and looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes of caitlyn’s. she takes a lot after caitlyn in terms of looks. her eyes, your nose, her lips, her face shape. she’s beautiful.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn takes care of the baby in the first 24 hours after she’s born, aside from when she needs feeding. after all your body’s been through, the woman just wants you to rest. you’ve more than earned it.
₊˚ෆ seeing her with the baby, they start to bond instantly. it’s the sweetest thing, seeing her cradle her and kiss her tiny forehead, coo at her in a soft tone. “you’re so perfect. i love you, you know? don’t ever forget that.”
₊˚ෆ she gets you a counselor immediately. postpartum depression is a possibility, she wants to address any possible issues immediately. but she also wants you to have a professional to lean on during this transitional period- while caitlyn is your rock, she’s aware that she isn’t the end all be all.
₊˚ෆ caitlyn kisses each one of your stretch marks. helps wash your hair when you’re too tired to do it yourself, and makes you tea while you feed your daughter.
₊˚ෆ there are several family heirlooms that tobias wants your granddaughter to have, when she’s old enough. but he did keep several of caitlyn’s baby clothes, so it isn’t rare for her to be dressed up in one of the onesies or dresses caitlyn once wore.
₊˚ෆ all of caitlyn’s coworkers wanna meet the baby so badly, they love her already :’) caitlyn has to gently tell them that for the first few months, before she can safely get her vaccines, it isn’t very safe for her to be going out much
₊˚ෆ spoons you at night and just.. talks to you. about everything and everything. what’s on her mind, that book you’ve been reading. something funny you saw on tv. it’s nice to unwind together, while your baby is asleep (and she inevitably wakes up in 2 hours for food).
₊˚ෆ caitlyn loves taking pictures of your baby, and she’s organizing a baby book for her <3 mementos from the hospital, ultrasound pictures, and printouts of the pictures she’s taken.
₊˚ෆ and gods, does she love holding her. seeing her wide, gummy smile. caitlyn’s often napping with your baby on her chest or back, or holding the little one between the two of you.
₊˚ෆ she falls in love all over again as you adjust to motherhood. you’re incredible at it, that much is clear- she watches from afar as you play with the baby, clothe her, bathe her. play peekaboo and help her with her rubber ducks in the bath. she doesn’t say anything, but she notices.
₊˚ෆ your baby reaches a few months old, and you start to see early parts of her personality forming. she takes a lot after you- your diligence and kindness, but caitlyn's patience. a baby, being patient? who would've thought.
cw: fluff content and smut content. very pervert jinx.
🫧 bestfriend!jinx that always picks you up. she won't take no for an answer, always arriving with her old Ford in front of your house, windows down while she grins at you “heeeyy, toots! took you long enough”. her smile brightening the second her nose smells your perfume. she categorized all of them by now.
🫧 bestfriend!jinx that alternates between driving slowly and careful so you can finish your makeup or sleep if the trip is too long and driving fast and kinda dangerously just to hear your little squirms and laughs, finding it adorable when you hit her arm telling her to stop. you don't really get nervous because you know there's no better driver than her.
🫧 bestfriend!jinx who is always finding ways to play online games with you, going as far as playing the ones she would never by herself… those cute and silly ones that you like, opposite to her taste, just to have you in her ear non-stop. of course she does all the hard work while you play with the customizations.
🫧 bestfriend!jinx who "unintentionally" sexualizes everything you do. everytime you touch her arm, her body shivers. when you two share a milkshake, she makes sure to spend extra time with her tongue on the straw. knowing she's getting your saliva and that you're getting hers darkens her eyes no matter how hard she tries to mask it. always taking extra time to look at your lips, your neck. she isn't subtle at all, anyone that would look from afar would see she's head over heels about you.
🫧 bestfriend!jinx who touches herself almost every night thinking of you… she tries to feel guilty about it, really. but you just looked so adorable today… your outfit matching, your pretty smile… and when you touched her waist so she could make way.. you know what that does to her. or at least you should. because now your best friend is fucking herself deeply and as hard as she can, her eyes rolling while she bites her lip to not make that much noise. you are sleeping in the other room with your boyfriend and she wouldn't want to raise suspicion.
Hi! It's me again. I was wondering if you could do a Vampire Reader x Arcane Women. Ambessa included, with their first encounter with us being when they find us feasting on someone, when we notice them, the encounter ends with some flirty banter and possibly a date.
Hiiiii!! Thank you for your request!🫶 i love this idea!!!! I love vampire stuff🤭💕🧛♀️ I hope you’ll enjoy!
Not human
Arcane ladies x Vampire! Reader
Characters: Vi | Caitlyn | Jinx | Sevika | Ambessa
Vi
The alley is narrow and dim, lit only by a flickering lantern and the distant glow of Zaun’s lower streets. The air smells faintly of rust and rain, sharp against your senses.
You have the man pinned carefully against the brick wall, one hand braced at his shoulder, the other steady at his jaw. His heartbeat stutters beneath your mouth, fast at first, then slower as you take only what you need. You are not reckless. You never take enough to kill.
When you finally pull back, you do so with measured control, catching the last trace of red with your thumb before it can stain your chin. The man slumps gently to the ground, unconscious but alive.
You are about to disappear into the shadows when you feel it.
The unmistakable sensation of being watched.
You turn your head.
And there she is.
Vi stands at the mouth of the alley, leaning casually against the wall as though she’s stumbled onto a street performance instead of something that should terrify her. Her arms are crossed over her chest, boots planted solidly against the ground.
Her gaze moves from the body at your feet to the faint smear of blood at the corner of your mouth, and then back to your eyes.
“…Well,” she says after a beat, voice even. “That’s new.”
You straighten slowly, the movement deliberate rather than defensive. “You’re early,” you reply.
“For what?”
“For your mistake.”
Her lips twitch.
“And what mistake would that be?”
“Coming alone.”
She pushes off the wall at that, stepping fully into the alley. There is no hesitation in her movement, no tremor in her stance. If anything, she looks faintly amused.
“You think I’m scared?” she asks.
You tilt your head slightly, studying her. Her pulse is steady. Strong. Not the frantic rhythm of prey, the controlled beat of someone who’s chosen to stay.
“You should be,” you say softly.
Instead of retreating, she closes the distance further, stopping only a few feet away. “I’ve seen worse,” she replies. “And if you were planning to kill me, you wouldn’t be talking.”
Silence stretches between you.
She’s right.
If you’d wanted her dead, she would already be on the ground.
You glance down briefly at the man you’ve left behind. “I don’t kill indiscriminately,” you say, almost casually.
“Good,” she answers. “I’d hate to have to punch a vampire tonight.”
The word lingers between you.
You raise an eyebrow. “Vampire.”
She gestures vaguely at you. “Pointed teeth. Dramatic alley. Blood. I’m connecting dots.”
A faint smile curves at your mouth despite yourself. You take a slow step forward, testing her, watching for any sign of retreat.
There is none.
She stands her ground.
Now you’re close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Close enough to hear her heartbeat clearly without straining. It would be so easy to lean in, to let instinct take over.
Instead, you hover just inside her space.
“You’re remarkably calm,” you murmur.
She shrugs lightly. “If you wanted me dead, I already would be.”
There it is again , that steady certainty.
You search her expression for bravado and find only confidence. It is not ignorance that keeps her here. It is choice.
“You’re bold,” you say.
“You’re messy,” she counters, nodding toward the body behind you.
You glance back briefly, then meet her gaze again. “I was hungry.”
“And now?” she asks.
You hold her eyes a moment longer than necessary.
“Now,” you reply slowly, “I’m curious.”
The air shifts. Not violent, but charged.
Her smirk deepens slightly. “About what?”
“About why you’re still standing there.”
She steps closer again, not enough to touch, but enough to erase the last of the distance.
“Maybe I wanted to see what you’d do.”
Your lips curve faintly. “Disappointed?”
“Not yet.”
You exhale a quiet laugh. It has been a long time since someone reacted to you like this, without screaming, without running, without the sharp metallic scent of fear.
“You owe me an explanation,” she says after a moment, jerking her chin toward the street.
“And if I decline?”
She shrugs. “Then I’ll follow you until you don’t.”
The confidence in her tone makes something warm flicker beneath your ribs.
“Persistent,” you observe.
“Curious,” she corrects.
You study her one last time, the solid set of her shoulders, the way her stance never wavers, the faint challenge in her eyes.
“Fine,” you say at last. “One drink.”
Her gaze drops pointedly to your mouth.
“Not that kind.”
You grin, slower this time. “Relax. I don’t mix meals with dates.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Date?”
“You approached me,” you reply smoothly. “Seems intentional.”
She rolls her eyes, but she falls into step beside you as you leave the alley, the unconscious man already forgotten behind you.
The night air feels different now.
Less predatory.
More… promising.
And for the first time in a long while, you walk through the shadows with someone at your side who does not fear the dark.
caitlyn
You knew you were being followed long before she chambered the round.
Not because she was careless, she wasn’t. Her steps were disciplined, evenly spaced, boots landing with deliberate control. But human hearts are loud to you, and hers had been steady and focused for the last three streets.
Not fear. Purpose.
You could have disappeared at any point. A shift into shadow, a blur across rooftops, a moment too fast for mortal eyes to track.
Instead, you let her follow.
The warehouse you chose was quiet, hollowed out by years of neglect. Rusted beams stretched overhead, and the air tasted faintly of damp iron. The man who had run here moments before had not been quiet. He’d stumbled, pulse racing wildly, desperation thick in the air.
You caught him easily.
Pinned him with one hand against the wall, the other steady at his jaw. You took what you required, no more. You never took more.
When you pulled back, you let him slide carefully to the ground. His heartbeat remained. Weak, but present. He would wake.
Only then did you speak.
“You may lower the rifle.”
The silence that followed was controlled, not startled.
“I would prefer not to,” came the reply.
You turned slowly.
Caitlyn stood near the entrance, rifle leveled with immaculate precision. Her posture was flawless, shoulders squared, chin slightly lifted, finger resting close to the trigger but not yet committing.
She was not trembling.
You appreciated that.
“You’ve been investigating,” you observed.
“And you’ve been leaving a pattern,” she replied calmly.
Her eyes flicked once to the man at your feet, then back to you. There was no panic in her gaze, only assessment.
“You are not human,” she said, not as accusation but conclusion.
“No.”
“And yet you do not kill them.”
“Not unless necessary.”
Her jaw tightened faintly. “That is not your decision to make.”
“No,” you agreed evenly. “But it is mine.”
The space between you hummed with restrained tension. Not chaos. Not the frantic energy of prey and predator. Something quieter. Measured.
You stepped forward.
The rifle did not waver.
“You followed me alone,” you said softly. “That was deliberate.”
“I prefer to assess threats personally.”
“You consider me a threat.”
“I consider you unknown.”
You closed the distance by another step. Close enough now that you could see the controlled rhythm of her breathing. Close enough that the barrel of her rifle hovered just inches from your chest.
“If I intended to shoot,” she said evenly, “I would have done so already.”
“Correct.”
“You allowed me to track you.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
You held her gaze. “Because you were interesting.”
The faintest shift crossed her expression. Not flustered. Not embarrassed. Something sharper.
“You are aware,” she said carefully, “that I cannot condone what you are.”
“And yet you have not fired.”
Her silence was not indecision. It was calculation.
“You select your victims,” she said after a moment.
“Yes.”
“Criminals.”
“Yes.”
“That does not make you judge and executioner.”
“No,” you replied. “It makes me hungry.”
The words did not carry threat. Only fact.
Her grip on the rifle loosened slightly, not lowered, but adjusted. The weapon remained between you, but the space felt different now. Less defensive. More… conversational.
“You do not run,” she observed.
“From you?” A faint smile curved at your mouth. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are not afraid.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You mistake composure for a lack of fear.”
“Perhaps,” you murmured. “But fear does not smell like this.”
A beat of silence followed.
Then, deliberately, she lowered the rifle.
Not out of trust.
Out of choice.
“If I determine that you pose a danger to innocents,” she said, voice steady as ever, “I will not hesitate.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
She stepped closer now that the weapon no longer divided the space. Not recklessly. Measured. Her gaze searched your face as though she were examining evidence for cracks.
“You could have vanished,” she said.
“Yes.”
“But you stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
You allowed yourself a small pause before answering.
“Because you intrigue me.”
The honesty settled between you, unadorned.
“You are remarkably forward,” she said.
“You tracked a vampire alone into a warehouse,” you replied. “So are you.”
That almost drew a smile from her, almost.
“What precisely are you proposing?” she asked.
“Dinner,” you said lightly.
Her eyes flicked once to the man on the ground. “You have already eaten.”
You inclined your head. “I was referring to something warmer.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, though she quickly suppressed it.
“One hour,” she said after a moment. “Public location.”
“Of course.”
“And if I find your answers unsatisfactory—”
“You will reconsider your assessment.”
Her gaze locked onto yours again, steady and unyielding.
“Yes,” she said. “I will.”
You stepped past her toward the warehouse exit. She hesitated only briefly before falling into step beside you, rifle now resting against her shoulder instead of aimed at your heart.
The night air outside felt sharp and clean.
For the first time in a long while, you were not walking alone through it.
And as Caitlyn adjusted her gloves and glanced at you from the corner of her eye, you realized something quietly amusing.
You may have allowed yourself to be tracked.
But she had chosen to follow.
Jinx
You smell the smoke before you hear her.
Gunpowder. Oil. A faint sweetness beneath it, something electric and unstable. But you’re busy.
The man beneath your grip is shaking violently, pulse hammering so loud it nearly drowns out the rest of the world. You have him pinned gently against a wall on the rooftop, one hand at his throat, not crushing, simply steady. Your teeth press against skin just long enough to break it.
Warmth floods your mouth.
You close your eyes for a moment, controlled, measured. You never take too much. Never let instinct override discipline.
That’s when the giggling starts.
Not panicked.
Delighted.
Your eyes open slowly.
“Well,” a voice sings from somewhere behind you, “that’s new.”
You don’t turn immediately. You finish, carefully, pulling back just as the man’s knees give out. He collapses in a heap, alive but deeply unconscious.
Only then do you glance over your shoulder.
Jinx is perched on a metal beam above you, legs swinging lazily, bright blue braids catching the neon glow of Zaun’s lights. She’s watching you like someone watching fireworks.
“You’re messy,” she comments cheerfully, tilting her head.
You wipe the faint line of red from your mouth with your thumb.
“You’re loud.”
She gasps dramatically. “Rude.”
You turn fully now, studying her. No fear. No trembling. Just wide-eyed interest and something dangerously close to excitement.
“You were watching,” you say.
“Uh huh.”
“And you didn’t run.”
She kicks her heels lightly against the beam. “Why would I?”
You take a slow step forward, testing her reaction.
She leans forward instead.
“Ooo,” she hums. “Are you gonna do the creepy eye thing?”
You blink once.
“My eyes do not—”
“They totally did,” she interrupts. “Very glowy. Very dramatic. Ten outta ten.”
A faint smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself.
“You should be afraid.”
She drops from the beam without warning, landing lightly in front of you. Too close. Far too close for someone who just witnessed you feed.
Her head tilts, studying your face like you’re an interesting gadget.
“You’re not foaming at the mouth,” she notes. “And you didn’t kill him.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t need to.”
Her grin widens.
“So you just… snack?”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Essentially.”
She circles you slowly, boots scraping against rooftop gravel. You can feel her heartbeat, fast, but not from fear. It’s exhilaration.
“You’re like a walking urban legend,” she muses. “People have been talking about the drained guys for weeks. I thought it was boring.”
Her eyes flick to the unconscious man.
“This is way better.”
You step into her path, stopping her circle.
“And you followed me.”
She shrugs.
“I follow interesting things.”
Her gaze drifts briefly to your mouth again, then back to your eyes.
“Do the teeth again.”
You stare at her.
“…Excuse me?”
“The fangs!” she insists. “I barely saw them. You gotta commit to the aesthetic.”
Despite yourself, you let them show, just slightly.
Her eyes light up like you’ve handed her a new weapon prototype.
“Oh that is so cool.”
“You are remarkably calm,” you murmur.
“You’re remarkably hot for someone covered in blood.”
Silence.
You did not expect that.
She leans in closer, invading your space without hesitation.
“You gonna bite me?” she asks brightly.
You hold her gaze.
“If I wanted to, you wouldn’t have time to ask.”
She grins wider.
“That wasn’t a no.”
You exhale slowly. You’ve encountered fear, hysteria, righteous anger. You’ve never encountered this.
“I do not feed indiscriminately,” you say evenly.
“Good,” she replies immediately. “I taste like explosives anyway.”
That almost makes you laugh.
“You are not disturbed by what you saw?”
She gestures vaguely toward the unconscious man. “He’s breathing. You didn’t drain him like a juice box. I’ve done worse.”
There’s no flinch in her voice.
Just truth.
“You intrigue me,” you admit quietly.
She beams.
“I know.”
“You assume much.”
“You didn’t run when you smelled me either,” she counters.
That’s when you realize she’s right.
You sensed her long before she spoke.
And you stayed.
She steps back suddenly, spinning once on her heel.
“Okay! Field trip.”
“To where?”
“You said you snack. So that means you’ve got rules. I wanna see the rules.”
“That is not—”
“Relax,” she cuts in, pointing at you. “Not like right now. But maybe later. You can show me your spooky vampire routine.”
Her grin turns sharp.
“And then we get drinks.”
“You cannot be serious.”
She leans in one last time, close enough that her voice drops slightly.
“Oh, I’m very serious.”
A pause.
“You buy.”
You look at her for a long moment.
Chaotic. Bright. Fearless.
Dangerous in an entirely different way.
“Fine,” you say at last. “One drink.”
She claps her hands together excitedly.
“And if you try to eat me—”
“I won’t.”
“—at least make it dramatic,” she finishes anyway.
You shake your head faintly as she skips ahead toward the edge of the rooftop.
“For the record,” she calls over her shoulder, “this is the coolest thing that’s happened all week.”
You glance once more at the man on the ground, ensuring his pulse is steady.
Then you follow her into the neon lit night.
And for the first time in a long while, you’re not the most dangerous thing on the rooftop.
Sevika
The alley behind the Last Drop smells like cheap liquor, rusted metal, and something sour that never quite leaves the stone.
Tonight, it smells like blood.
You have the man pressed against the wall, one hand braced at his collar, the other steady at his jaw. His pulse is erratic beneath your mouth, not innocent, not clean. You chose him carefully. You always do.
You take only what you need.
Warmth spreads through you, slow and controlled, and when you pull back, you make sure his heartbeat is still there. Weak. But steady enough to survive the night.
A match strikes in the darkness.
You don’t startle.
Smoke curls through the air before you turn your head.
Sevika stands a few paces away, leaning against the brick wall like she’s been there the entire time. One arm crossed over her chest, the other lifting a cigarette to her lips. The glow at its tip flares briefly, illuminating sharp features and unreadable eyes.
She takes a slow drag.
Then exhales.
“You’re wasting it,” she says.
You straighten, letting the man slump carefully to the ground.
“I beg your pardon?”
She nods toward the thin line of blood trailing down his neck. “Could’ve taken more.”
“I don’t need more.”
Her gaze drifts over you, slow and deliberate. Not fearful. Not even surprised.
Assessing.
“You’re new,” she says.
“I’ve been here longer than you think.”
She hums faintly at that, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. Boots scrape lightly against gravel, unhurried. The air between you shifts, not frantic like prey and predator.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“You’re not concerned,” you observe.
She shrugs. “You didn’t kill him.”
“No.”
“If you were going to kill me, you wouldn’t be standing there talking.”
A faint smile curves at your mouth.
“You assume confidence.”
“I assume pattern.”
She stops only a few feet away now. Close enough that you can see the faint scar cutting across her brow, the quiet tension coiled in her stance. Her organic hand rests casually near her hip. Her metal one hangs heavy and ready.
“You feed on the ones who won’t be missed,” she says, more statement than question.
“Yes.”
“And you think that makes you different from the rest of us?”
There’s no judgment in her tone.
Just curiosity.
“I think it makes me selective.”
She studies you for a long moment, cigarette smoke drifting between you like a thin veil.
“You’re not shaking,” you murmur.
“Why would I be?”
“Most people run.”
“I’m not most people.”
That much is obvious.
You take a slow step forward.
She doesn’t retreat.
You’re close enough now to hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Slower than most. Controlled. Strong.
“You smell like blood,” she says quietly.
“You smell like smoke.”
Her lips twitch faintly.
“Fair.”
Silence lingers, thick and deliberate.
“You don’t belong to anyone,” she says after a moment.
It’s not a question.
“No.”
“And you’re not looking to.”
“No.”
Another slow drag from her cigarette. She drops it, crushes it beneath her boot without breaking eye contact.
“You’re bold,” she says.
“You watched.”
“You were interesting.”
The corner of her mouth lifts just slightly.
“That so?”
You step closer, close enough now that if she wanted, she could grab you.
“If I intended to harm you,” you murmur, “you would not have had time to light that cigarette.”
Her metal hand flexes faintly.
“If I intended to stop you,” she replies evenly, “you wouldn’t have finished your meal.”
You tilt your head slightly. “You’re not disturbed.”
“I’ve done worse,” she says simply.
You believe her.
The man at your feet groans faintly, still breathing. Sevika glances down at him, unimpressed.
“You’re careful,” she observes.
“I don’t waste resources.”
Her gaze returns to you.
“And what am I?”
The question hangs there, sharp and deliberate.
You hold her eyes.
“Not prey.”
That earns you the faintest smirk.
“Good answer.”
A beat of silence.
Then she jerks her chin toward the street.
“Walk.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“You said you’re selective,” she replies. “So explain the criteria.”
You consider her for a long moment.
“You’re inviting me to justify myself.”
“I’m inviting you for a drink.”
There’s no softness in it. No flirtatious tone.
Just a challenge.
“And if I decline?”
She shrugs, turning toward the mouth of the alley. “Then you walk away.”
You glance once more at the man on the ground, ensuring his pulse is steady.
Then you follow her.
“You’re remarkably calm for someone who just watched me feed,” you say.
She doesn’t look at you as she answers.
“You’re remarkably calm for someone who just got invited out by a woman who could crush your throat.”
A faint smile pulls at your mouth.
“Is that a threat?”
“Depends how the night goes.”
The neon lights of the Last Drop spill across the pavement as you step into the street beside her.
You are both predators in different ways.
Neither of you flinches.
And as Sevika pushes open the bar door and glances back at you briefly, you realize, this is not a hunt. It’s a negotiation.
Ambessa
The courtyard is quiet at this hour.
Noxian stone still holds the warmth of the day, and the torches along the walls burn low, casting long, deliberate shadows across marble and iron. The man you have pressed against the column smells of fear and old corruption. You did not choose him at random. You never do.
His pulse races wildly beneath your fingers as you steady him in place, one hand braced at his collar, the other firm at his jaw. When your teeth break skin, it is not frantic. It is precise. Measured. You take only what you require, feeling the slow transfer of warmth, the steady fading of strength.
You stop before it turns fatal.
You always stop.
When you pull back, you make certain his heartbeat remains, weak but present, before allowing him to slide to the ground. He will wake with a headache and little else.
It is then that you feel it.
Not footsteps. Not the scrape of armor.
Presence.
You turn.
Ambessa Medarda stands beneath the torchlight as though she has always belonged there. Hands clasped loosely behind her back. Posture unyielding. Her armor gleams softly in the firelight, and her gaze is steady, unhurried, entirely unimpressed.
She has been watching.
She does not call for guards.
She does not reach for a blade.
Her eyes move from the man at your feet to the faint smear of red at the corner of your mouth.
“…Efficient,” she says at last.
You wipe the blood away with calm deliberation. “You are not disturbed.”
“I have seen worse,” she replies evenly.
There is no bravado in it. No attempt at intimidation. Simply fact.
She steps forward, boots echoing lightly against stone. The distance between you closes gradually, not rushed, not tentative. Her gaze drops briefly to the unconscious man, studying the rise and fall of his chest.
“You chose him,” she observes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He will not be missed.”
Her eyes sharpen slightly at that.
“You presume to judge.”
“I select carefully,” you answer. “Indiscretion invites chaos.”
A quiet stillness settles between you, not tension in the frantic sense, but the slow hum of two beings assessing one another without flinching.
“You could have killed him,” she says.
“Yes.”
“But you did not.”
“No.”
She takes another step forward, close enough now that the heat from the torches catches along the edges of her armor and reflects faintly in her eyes.
“You are not human,” she states.
“No.”
“And yet you exercise restraint.”
“I do not waste what I do not require.”
A faint shift touches her expression, not quite approval, not quite amusement.
“Discipline,” she murmurs. “Rare.”
You meet her gaze without lowering yours.
“You approached alone.”
“I do not delegate what I wish to see for myself.”
“You are aware I could have vanished.”
“I am aware,” she says calmly. “You did not.”
The words are not accusatory. They are analytical.
“You remained,” she continues. “That was deliberate.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
You consider her for a moment, the steadiness of her stance, the absence of fear in her scent, the deliberate patience in her posture.
“Because you were not afraid,” you say.
A faint pause follows.
“I do not fear what I can understand,” she replies.
“And do you understand me?”
Her gaze travels over you once, not with desire, not with revulsion, but calculation. Your stillness. Your control. The fact that you did not attempt escape.
“You are selective,” she says slowly. “Capable. Controlled. You eliminate problems quietly.”
Her eyes return to yours.
“You are useful.”
The word lands without ornament.
Not flirtation.
Appraisal.
“And if I refuse to be used?” you ask.
“Then you walk away,” she says.
There is no threat in her voice. No command.
Only choice.
You take a slow step forward, narrowing the remaining space between you until only inches remain. You can feel the warmth of her presence now, solid and unyielding.
“If I had intended harm,” you murmur, “you would not be standing here.”
Her chin lifts slightly.
“If I had intended to stop you, you would not have finished.”
There is no hostility in it. Only acknowledgment.
Power recognizes power.
“You watched,” you say quietly.
“You were worth watching.”
The faintest curve touches your mouth.
“And now?”
She turns slightly, gesturing toward the archway that leads deeper into the courtyard.
“Now we speak.”
“Of what?”
“Terms.”
The word is deliberate.
“You assume I am interested in alliance.”
“I assume you are intelligent,” she replies. “And intelligent beings prefer arrangement over unnecessary conflict.”
Your gaze flicks once more to the man at your feet, still breathing, still alive.
“And what arrangement do you propose?”
She steps closer, not enough to invade, but enough to signal intent.
“Dinner.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“You disapprove of my methods.”
“I disapprove of unpredictability,” she corrects. “If I understand you, you cease to be a variable.”
“And if I decline?”
Her voice lowers slightly, not threatening, simply certain.
“Then you remain unknown.”
A pause.
“I prefer clarity.”
You study her for a long moment. She does not flinch beneath your scrutiny. She does not reach for a weapon. She does not retreat.
She stands as though she has already calculated every possible outcome.
“Very well,” you say at last. “One dinner.”
A subtle satisfaction settles into her expression, restrained but unmistakable.
“Good.”
She turns without checking whether you follow.
You do.
Not because you are commanded.
Because you are curious.
And as the courtyard falls quiet behind you, torches flickering against stone, you realize something quietly dangerous, this was never prey meeting predator.
It was power, recognizing power, and choosing to sit at the same table.
☆ ◞ summary: when they get jealous at someone trying to make a move at you.
△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Fluff kinda angst idk
Jayce Talis.
The night had started out normal enough. A quick stop at a Piltover lounge, a few drinks, good company—it was supposed to be relaxing. Jayce had been looking forward to it all week, especially since he finally got to spend time with you outside of work.
And then he showed up.
Some random, smooth-talking socialite, flashing a charming smile and leaning just a little too close to you at the bar. Jayce had been mid-sip of his drink when he first noticed it—the way the guy’s hand subtly brushed against yours as he laughed at something you said.
Jayce didn’t consider himself a jealous person. He really didn’t.
But he also didn’t like the way this guy was looking at you.
At first, he tried to play it cool, sipping his drink, pretending not to pay attention. You were perfectly capable of handling yourself, and it wasn’t like Jayce had any claim over you.
Except… maybe he wanted one.
His grip tightened around his glass as he watched the guy lean in again, this time saying something low and smooth. You chuckled—polite, but dismissive. Jayce knew that laugh. It was the one you used when you were humoring someone you had zero interest in.
Still, the guy wasn’t getting the message.
Alright. That was enough.
Jayce pushed off his seat and strode toward you, placing a casual—but firm—hand on your lower back as he slid beside you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice deliberately warm. “Sorry I took so long. Did I miss anything?”
You blinked up at him, immediately catching on. “Oh, not much. Just some small talk.”
The guy’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between you and Jayce. “And you are…?”
Jayce grinned, though there was something unmistakably sharp beneath it. “Jayce Talis.” He extended his hand, his grip just a little too firm when the guy shook it. “And you?”
The guy shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, just a friend.”
Jayce’s grin widened. “Oh, just a friend?” His hand on your back subtly pulled you a fraction closer. “That’s funny. See, I thought you were hitting on my partner.”
You choked slightly, eyes widening as Jayce looked at the guy with a perfectly polite expression—like he hadn’t just dropped that word so casually.
The guy’s confidence wavered, and he let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh, no offense, man. Didn’t realize.”
Jayce’s smile stayed in place, but his eyes gleamed with something dangerously smug. “Yeah? You do now.”
The guy mumbled some excuse and quickly retreated, disappearing into the crowd.
As soon as he was gone, you turned to Jayce with an amused smirk. “Partner, huh?”
Jayce coughed into his drink. “I panicked.”
You raised a brow. “Seemed pretty smooth for a panic move.”
“…Okay, maybe not panicked exactly.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
You tilted your head, enjoying watching him squirm. “Jealous?”
Jayce scoffed. “What? Me? Nooo.” Then, after a pause, he sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay, maybe a little.”
You grinned, reaching up to straighten the lapel of his coat. “You’re cute when you get possessive.”
Jayce groaned. “Great. Now you’re never gonna let me live this down, huh?”
“Nope.”
But even as you teased him, Jayce couldn’t help the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Because you were still here—with him. And that’s all that really mattered.
------------------------------------------------
Mel Medarda.
Mel Medarda was not the type to get jealous.
She was confident, poised, and completely in control at all times. If someone wanted to flirt with you in front of her, well—let them. She knew where you would be going home at the end of the night.
That being said… she did have her limits.
The evening had been going smoothly—an elegant Piltover gala, golden lights reflecting off the crystal chandeliers, the air buzzing with soft music and hushed conversations. You had accompanied Mel as her guest, and while she was busy entertaining council members and diplomats, you had wandered to the refreshment table.
That’s when he appeared.
Some overly ambitious noble, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He was all charm and slick words, flashing you a practiced smile as he poured you a glass of wine, his hand lingering a bit too long as he passed it to you.
Mel had been watching from across the room, her expression unreadable as she sipped her champagne.
She gave him a chance. One.
And then she saw it—the way his fingers barely grazed your wrist as he leaned in, whispering something undoubtedly bold.
Mel hummed, swirling her glass lightly before making her move.
With effortless grace, she glided through the room, her golden gown shimmering under the chandeliers. By the time she reached you, her presence was undeniable—the noble stiffened slightly as she placed a hand lightly on your arm, her touch as soft as silk.
"Darling," she purred, her voice smooth as honey, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."
Your eyes flickered with amusement as you caught the subtle edge beneath her words. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or nervous for the poor fool beside you.
The noble, to his credit, tried to play it cool. "Ah, Councilor Medarda. I was just getting to know your lovely companion."
Mel smiled—slow, dangerous. "Were you?"
There was no sharpness in her tone, no outright hostility. And yet, the noble swallowed thickly, suddenly aware that he had overstepped.
She turned to you, her fingers trailing lightly down your wrist before intertwining with yours. "I do hope they haven't been bothering you," she mused, brushing a stray hair from your face as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.
You smirked. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
Mel let out a soft, knowing hum. "Of course not." Then, without another glance at the noble, she gently tugged you away, her grip light yet undeniable.
As you walked off together, you leaned in slightly. "You know, I think you scared him."
Mel arched a brow, amusement dancing in her golden eyes. "Good. He was getting on my nerves."
You chuckled. "Jealous?"
Mel merely smiled, raising your hand to her lips and pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. "Jealousy is such a petty thing."
But the way her fingers tightened slightly around yours told a different story.
------------------------------------------------
Viktor.
Viktor didn’t get jealous—or at least, that’s what he liked to tell himself.
He was logical, rational. Petty emotions like envy were for people who had time to waste. He had work to do—innovations to create, problems to solve.
And yet.
He had been going over blueprints at your shared worktable in the lab, completely immersed in his notes, when he heard it—someone else’s laughter mixed with yours.
His pen stopped mid-scratch.
Looking up, he found you standing by the doorway, engaged in a conversation with some bright-eyed researcher. They were laughing, gesturing animatedly, clearly trying to impress you. And what was worse? You were actually smiling at them.
Viktor felt a twinge in his chest, something unpleasant curling in his gut. He frowned, tapping his pen against the desk. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.
But then the researcher leaned in just a little too close, and Viktor’s patience snapped like a frayed wire.
He pushed himself up with his cane, making his way toward you at an unhurried pace. The clack of his cane against the floor was rhythmic, steady—an unmistakable presence approaching.
The researcher caught sight of him and faltered slightly. “Oh—Viktor! I was just talking to—”
“Yes, I noticed.” Viktor’s tone was light, almost pleasant, but there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. His golden eyes flickered between you and the researcher before landing on you entirely, his focus unwavering. “You’ve been gone quite a while. I was beginning to wonder if I had lost my most valuable assistant.”
You raised a brow at his pointed wording, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track of my time, Vik.”
Viktor tilted his head slightly, his gaze assessing. “I keep track of all important things.”
You felt warmth rise to your cheeks at the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The researcher, now clearly uncomfortable, cleared their throat. “Well, I should—um—get back to work.” And with that, they all but scurried away.
The moment they were gone, you turned to Viktor, arms crossed. “That was subtle.”
Viktor sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Ah, my deepest apologies. I had no idea my mere presence would cause such a reaction.”
You chuckled. “So, are you going to admit you were jealous, or should I just assume?”
Viktor scoffed, but there was the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. “Jealousy is irrational. I was simply…” He searched for the right words, tapping his cane idly against the floor. “…reminding them of their place.”
You grinned. “And my place is?”
Viktor leaned in slightly, his voice lower, softer. “Right here. With me.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
For someone who claimed not to get jealous, he certainly had a way of making it very clear.
Caitlyn Kiramman was not the type to get openly jealous. She prided herself on her composure, her ability to remain level-headed even in high-pressure situations.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it.
You had been at a local café in Piltover, waiting for Caitlyn to finish up her rounds so the two of you could grab lunch together. While you were minding your own business, some overconfident merchant had slid into the seat across from you, flashing you a way too eager grin.
Caitlyn spotted it the moment she stepped onto the street.
At first, she hesitated, watching from a short distance. She wanted to trust you to handle it—but then the merchant leaned in, their hand brushing against yours on the table, and Caitlyn felt a prickle of irritation rise in her chest.
Alright. That was enough.
With long, purposeful strides, she approached the table, her blue eyes cool and calculating. “Excuse me,” she said smoothly, her voice polite but firm.
Both you and the merchant turned toward her. You instantly perked up. “Cait! There you are.”
The merchant, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “Ah, and who might you be?”
Caitlyn’s smile was razor-sharp as she placed a gloved hand on the back of your chair, her presence undeniable. “Captain Caitlyn Kiramman of the Piltover Enforcers,” she replied smoothly. “And the person they’ve been waiting for.”
That got the merchant to stiffen slightly. “Oh—my apologies, I didn’t realize…”
Caitlyn arched a brow. “Didn’t realize what? That they were already spoken for?” She leaned in slightly, tilting her head. “Or that you were wasting your time?”
The merchant let out an awkward chuckle, making some excuse before quickly retreating.
Once they were gone, you turned to Caitlyn with an amused smirk. “That was almost scary.”
Caitlyn huffed, finally slipping into the seat across from you. “I simply dislike people who overstep boundaries.”
You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
Caitlyn scoffed, lifting her tea to her lips. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”
“Really?” You grinned. “Because that looked a lot like jealousy.”
Caitlyn gave you an unimpressed look, but the faint pink at the tips of her ears gave her away.
You chuckled, reaching across the table to brush your fingers against hers. “You could’ve just told them I was yours, you know.”
Caitlyn exhaled softly, her expression finally softening. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
Your heart fluttered at the undeniable certainty in her voice.
Because, jealous or not—she knew exactly where you belonged.
------------------------------------------------
Vi.
Vi wasn’t the type to subtly get jealous. If she was annoyed, you knew it.
And right now? She was definitely annoyed.
You were both at Jericho’s bar, just grabbing drinks and unwinding after a long week. Vi had left your side for two minutes—just to talk to the bartender about another round—when she turned back and saw some cocky Zaunite leaning way too close to you.
Her eyes narrowed.
At first, she just watched, arms crossed, observing how the guy was grinning at you, clearly testing his luck. He was laying it on thick, too, his hand resting on the bar near yours, body language screaming overconfidence.
Vi cracked her knuckles.
Taking her time, she sauntered back over, sliding onto the stool beside you and draping an arm over your shoulders in one smooth motion. “Hey, babe,” she said casually, ignoring the guy entirely as she leaned in, pressing a kiss against your temple.
You blinked up at her, amused. “Vi?”
She hummed, finally turning her attention to the guy. “And who are you?”
The man, now clearly realizing who he had just been flirting with, hesitated. “Uh—just talking to your friend here.”
Vi’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly. “Yeah? Looked like you were talking to my partner.” Her voice was deceptively light, but there was an unmistakable warning beneath it.
The guy held his hands up, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t know they were taken.”
Vi arched a brow. “Well, you do now.”
The guy muttered a quick apology and made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowd.
Once he was gone, you smirked, tilting your head toward Vi. “That was subtle.”
Vi scoffed, picking up her drink. “Please. If I really wanted to make a scene, he wouldn’t have walked out of here with both legs working.”
You chuckled, leaning against her. “So… jealous?”
Vi huffed, taking a sip of her drink before muttering, “Whatever.”
You grinned, nudging her side. “You so were.”
Vi sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. Maybe a little. But can you blame me?” She leaned in, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. “You are kinda irresistible.”
Your breath hitched slightly, and Vi grinned, clearly pleased with herself.
“Now,” she said, finishing her drink, “how about we really make it obvious who you belong to?”
The playful challenge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.
Yeah. Vi might not do subtle jealousy—but you weren’t complaining.
------------------------------------------------
Jinx.
Jinx wasn’t just jealous—she was possessive.
She didn’t do subtle. If someone was getting too close to you, you bet she was gonna make a scene about it.
It started when the two of you were wandering around Zaun, just minding your business when some overly confident guy swaggered up to you, flashing a grin that instantly irritated Jinx.
She didn’t immediately do anything, though. No, she wanted to see just how far this guy would push his luck. So she crossed her arms, leaned against a nearby crate, and watched.
And, oh boy, was this guy an idiot.
“Didn’t think I’d run into someone as good-looking as you in a place like this,” he purred, clearly thinking he was smooth.
Jinx’s fingers twitched.
You, clearly aware of the tension building beside you, gave an awkward chuckle. “Uh, thanks?”
The guy actually reached out, fingers just about to brush against your arm—
—and then BANG.
A single gunshot blasted the air, a bullet embedding itself right next to the guy’s hand on the wall.
You didn’t even flinch. But the guy? He jumped, whirling around to see Jinx casually twirling Fishbones in her hands, a manic grin stretched across her face.
“Oops,” she sing-songed, rocking on her heels. “My hand slipped.”
The guy paled. “What the hell—”
Jinx tilted her head. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Go on. Keep flirting. See what happens.”
He took one look at the absolute delight in her eyes—at how she was clearly enjoying this—and bolted.
Jinx cackled as he disappeared down the alley. “Coward!”
You sighed, shaking your head. “Jinx, really?”
She huffed, marching up to you and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “What? You’d rather I let that slimeball run his mouth?”
“I could’ve handled it,” you teased, leaning into her.
Jinx squinted at you, poking your cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But I wanted to handle it.”
You smirked. “Jealous?”
Jinx gasped dramatically. “Me? Jealous?” She clutched her chest. “Pffft, please. I just really like scaring people.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Mhm, sure.”
Jinx pouted before pulling you into a sudden, tight hug, her voice muffled against your neck. “Mine,” she mumbled.
Your heart skipped
------------------------------------------------
Sevika.
So when she saw some cocky guy chatting you up at the bar—leaning a little too close, looking a little too comfortable—she didn’t immediately react. She just leaned back in her seat, swirling her drink, watching.
Jealousy was for insecure people. For weak people. She was neither.
You weren’t encouraging it, but you were being polite, nodding along as the guy kept talking. That annoyed her.
He was still talking? Still standing there?
Sevika sighed, rolling her shoulders before finally deciding she had enough.
She pushed off the bar with her metal arm, the heavy clank of it hitting the counter making the guy flinch before she even reached you.
“Hey,” she drawled as she slid up behind you, pressing just close enough to make a statement. Her voice was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Didn’t realize we were making new friends tonight.”
The guy blinked, looking up at her—then immediately went pale when he realized who she was.
Sevika tilted her head, taking a slow drag of her cigar. “Something wrong?”
The guy took one last look at her—the sharp set of her jaw, the glow of her mechanical arm, the way she was clearly daring him to keep talking—before quickly muttering something about needing to be somewhere else and scurrying off.
Sevika exhaled a slow stream of smoke before looking down at you. “You just let anyone talk to you, huh?”
You smirked, leaning against the bar. “You jealous?”
She scoffed. “Please.”
You raised a brow. “Mhm. So you just casually felt like intimidating some random guy for no reason?”
Sevika rolled her eyes, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I don’t like interruptions.”
You chuckled, nudging her. “Right. Definitely not jealousy.”
She sighed, shaking her head before resting her metal arm against the bar beside you, effectively boxing you in. She leaned down just slightly, her voice lower now.
“You wanna test me?”
Your breath hitched.
Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Thought so.”
She didn’t say she was jealous.
But the way she made it very clear who you belonged to? Yeah. That said enough.
------------------------------------------------
Ekko.
Ekko wasn’t the type to immediately get jealous. He was pretty secure in himself and in your relationship. But that didn’t mean he was oblivious.
So when some guy at the Last Drop started flirting with you, he didn’t overreact. At first.
He had been talking to some of the Firelights, keeping an eye on you from across the room, when he noticed the guy leaning in a little too close. At first, Ekko just sighed, shaking his head. He figured you’d shut it down.
But then the guy touched your arm.
And suddenly, Ekko wasn’t feeling so chill anymore.
Taking a slow breath, he rolled his shoulders before pushing off the wall, walking toward you with the effortless confidence that only he could pull off.
The guy was still chatting you up, completely unaware as Ekko slid in behind you, looping an arm around your waist before leaning close, his lips brushing your ear.
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him. “Ekko?”
He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before looking at the guy in front of you. His usual laid-back demeanor was still there, but there was a new sharpness in his gaze.
“Who’s your friend?” Ekko asked, his voice smooth but unmistakably pointed.
The guy hesitated, clearly unsure how to react. “Uh, just—just talking.”
Ekko hummed, tilting his head. “Yeah? Funny, ‘cause my partner doesn’t really need company.”
The guy opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly second-guessing whether it was worth pushing his luck.
Ekko smirked, his grip on your waist just barely tightening. “You good, man? ‘Cause you’re looking a little nervous.”
The guy quickly muttered something about needing to leave and disappeared into the crowd.
Ekko exhaled through his nose, watching until the guy was definitely gone before turning back to you.
You crossed your arms, amused. “Jealous?”
He scoffed. “Me? Nah. Just don’t like watching idiots waste your time.”
You smirked, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mhm. Sure.”
Ekko sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe a little.”
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute.”
He groaned, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let it go to your head.”
jinx giving hickeys to her gf who she loves so much🥹
⠀⠀美丽. ♡ pairing. soft gf!jinx x 𝑓. reader. tw. kissing, skinship, etc.
jinx straddled your lap, her arms wrapped around your neck and her fingers tangled within your hair. her lips pressed against yours in a gentle rhythm, the kiss–a contrast of her usual, chaotic behaviour–slow and sweet, savouring the taste of you on her tongue. her hand grabbed your face softly, brushing your skin with delicate regard.
your face burned with affection, the tension between you growing quick as your hands tightened around her waist and pulled her closer. a hot mess of breathless murmurs, the mellifluous sound of her mouth on yours, and the gentle caress of her fingers. it was a heavenly sight to behold.
jinx began trailing down your jaw, her lips rough and warm. as she sucked on the soft skin of your throat, a light mark started to form against your complexion, slowly growing darker the longer she imprinted on you. as she lingered on your skin, you could hardly breathe, lost in the sensations she was creating, every part of you responding to her with an almost primal desire.
she pulled back, admiring her handiwork as a smirk crossed her face. the many marks on your skin, darkening as the seconds passed, covered your neck, symbolising you were hers. all hers.
“you look so pretty like this…” she whispered, her gaze falling back onto your crismson-glazed face. the sight beneath her was far too precious for her to comprehend, her heart blooming with pure adoration, enraptured by not only your beauty, but your entire being in of itself. now, with her markings casting your seraphic skin, she couldn’t get over the fact that you were truly hers.
♡ ──── @dizzy-dyke @fragilefreqs. send an ask or fill out form to join perm taglist.
