deftones chloe price ꩜
got back into my drawing bag because i replayed lis and it changed my life again :p
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Kiana Khansmith
Today's Document
trying on a metaphor

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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
KIROKAZE

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occasionally subtle

if i look back, i am lost

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@vikabride
deftones chloe price ꩜
got back into my drawing bag because i replayed lis and it changed my life again :p
VENUS PART FIVE
description: apothecary! reader finds herself spiraling about her body's response to sevika and she doesn't know what to do.
warnings: emotional unavailability, stitches, blood, emotional vulnerability from sevika and reader? woah we're going places.
a/n: happy pride y'all omg i had to lock in and get this out :p
part four here
you stayed like that for some time, your chin rested against the expanse of your forearm in a feeble attempt to ground your racing mind. but your eyes just couldn't help but to flicker and flicker and flicker from sign to street to tank to the ant-sized people below you to the crown of piltover.
nothing was interesting enough, there was nothing you hadn’t seen. there was nothing here that could take your mind off of what just happened and how not okay it was. your heart was thrumming in your chest and you couldn’t help but to think. and think. and think.
you’d let her go, stayed behind even though your body ached for you to follow, and now you’ve been somewhere between kicking yourself and commending your strength for the past hour. eventually though, the unforgiving cold of the wind whipping through the overpass got to you no matter how unaffected you claim to be after all of these years.
and like sevika, it became impossible to ignore.
the overpass had a way of swallowing time whole. you had discovered that years ago. something about the height, or maybe it was because standing high enough above zaun gave the illusion that you had somehow escaped it. up here the city softened around the edges. the machinery below dulled into a distant mechanical pulse rather than an endless roar. violence became something abstract. further away.
you had leaned against the rusted railing long enough for the city beneath you to shift. somewhere during your self-inflicted spiral, bars had emptied and foot traffic through the lower lanes had thinned. steam still curled upward from refinery pipes and the fissures still glowed beneath the city like exposed veins, but everything had become softer somehow.
you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been standing there. long enough.
far too long, considering your thoughts had long since stopped being productive and instead begun circling themselves with enough repetition to qualify as psychological warfare.
because every road, every firing synapse, every lane… somehow led back to sevika.
not anything useful either, your brain offered you no clarity, no justification, no new information at all- just broken fragments.
the warmth of her hand at the small of your back on the stairs, the look in her lidded eyes when she stared down at your lips like she was in pain- like it hurt to not cover your lips with hers. you think about how it hurt you too.
the rough scrape of her angelic voice saying wouldn’t have climbed six flights bleeding if i wanted to be anywhere else.
the way her hand pressed into your skin with enough pressure to make you-
gods.
you physically squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed both hands over your face. humiliating. actually, genuinely, humiliating. because this was absurd. you had spent years carefully constructing a life that required very little from anyone. small routines. predictable spaces. work. music. ekko. aether.
then sevika had arrived at babettes and you thought you had it all under control, then she showed up at your shop with silco in tow and now suddenly your body had developed opinions.
eventually you pushed away from the railing with a long sigh and started toward the staircase. the old metal groaned beneath your boots as you descended through the refinery skeleton, exposed beams creaking overhead whenever the wind curled through them. gradually, the city climbed back around you with each flight. distant voices. machinery. music bleeding from somewhere lower in the lanes. a song you recognized but your brain was too exhausted to place the lyrics.
your thoughts had mostly exhausted themselves by now. or maybe just exhausted you.
either way you rounded the final turn expecting nothing more interesting than another flight of stairs. and then you got caught in between steps- stilled, despite yourself. you felt a million different emotions and thoughts wash over your body all at once, in an instant and you didn’t know how you felt or what to think.
your body simply forgot what it had been doing because sitting at the bottom of the staircase with her back propped against rusted railing- was sevika, sitting with their head tipped back and one knee bent loosely toward their chest.
your feet stopped moving entirely.
and immediately your eyes moved over her automatically because apparently some deeply irritating part of your brain had already developed habits. bandaging, posture, breathing, hands, no fresh blood. no visible strain. cool, good.
great.
your shoulders loosened and you let out a little sigh before you could stop yourself and sevika’s eyes opened instantly. like she’d been listening just for your sigh.
her lazy gaze found yours halfway up the stairs, up your body- shamelessly- and moved over your face once before the corner of her mouth lifted into something lazy and entirely too pleased with itself.
“there she is.” you stared at her, actually stared. dumbfounded.
because what exactly was the appropriate response to finding a woman you had watched leave over an hour ago sitting at the bottom of refinery stairs waiting for you?
your brows furrowed slowly. “...what happened?”
sevika blinked once.
“...what?”
you were already moving before she could answer. your eyes had dropped immediately toward the bandaging at her ribs and narrowed almost on instinct. she shifted slightly against the railing and your attention caught on it immediately, tracking movement before your thoughts could catch up.
“the wound?” a brief silence passed between you both and she furrowed her thick brows at you, unimpressed.
“...that’s your hello?”
you ignored her completely, for the first time tonight, and crouched in front of her- already reaching toward the edge of the bandaging beneath her shirt before you could stop yourself. you found your hand pressing into her abdomen, trying to see if the wound would react.
sevika, knowing she was completely fine, ignored your ministrations as much as her body could allow- just searching your beautiful face, brushing a windswept curl from your face so you can get a better look at her to ease your mind. and it’s not exactly like she dreaded you feeling her up.
very slowly something smug crossed her expression, she saw your concern, your fear. she felt you touching her like it was your gods-given right and she couldn’t help it. you were just so beautiful in her eyes. so funny, so interesting, someone that needed to be hers in ways she couldn’t even communicate to you. in ways that only made sense to her nervous system.
“missed you too.” your head snapped upward immediately.
“what?”
“the panic’s nice.”
you sat back on your heels, taking your hand back, and stared at her in complete disbelief. actual disbelief. because now that panic had receded enough for your brain to function properly, you realized not only was she not hurt- but she waited here for howeverfuckinglong you stayed up there for. sitting, idle.
you had watched her leave, you had listened for the sound of her boots disappearing beneath city noise. you had spent the last hour and a half trying very hard not to think about her, definitely not preparing yourself to come face to face with her for a second time tonight.
and meanwhile somehow, somehow, sevika had apparently spent that exact same hour sitting at the bottom of rusted refinery stairs. waiting for you. uninjured, not out of necessity- just waiting, relaxing?
your eyes moved over her again, the jacket folded beside her as she was unaffected by the winds wrecking havoc toward the top of the overpass where you were getting assaulted.
her hand was resting low against your bandaging, her arm was exposed and her muscles were relaxed revealing just how naturally strong her body was- definitely as a result of years and years of her job.
you see her posture and what unsettles you the most is the fact that she had gotten comfortable.
your brows knit tighter.
“...you just waited?” sevika shrugged one shoulder, and you took it that that was going to be her full response. casual, like this was somehow normal behavior.
“sevika.”
“mm.” she mimicked you, all too easy. you rolled your eyes but something- probably the amused gleam you catch in her eye- tells you she doesn't mind the sight.
“why.” the silence didn’t have time to sit, and sevika didn’t have any time to respond to you before-
“-did silco assign you to keep tabs on me or something?”
she looked at you then. really looked. the grin lingered at the edges of her mouth but something shifted beneath it, frustration maybe.
“you stayed up there for a while.”
you blinked. that wasn’t an answer, noted.
“...yes, i did.”
“tried watching you for a bit-” you glared at her voyeurism, feeling a heat you can’t describe crawl up your neck and settle at the tips of your ears.
“-you looked miserable.”
“do i normally look happy?” you asked her, sarcasm dripping as you play with the hem of your skirt pooled around your ankles. your chest felt tight with your knees pressed to it as you sat opposite her, you pretend it’s because of your position but you know the truth.
“how long did you watch?” you asked, softly. pretending that the answer doesn’t matter to you. that you don’t care. just pretending.
“not long, m’not a creep.” she finds it in herself to say.
you looked up at her from your position on the floor beneath the step she called home for the past hour or so.
“little creepy.” you smile, despite yourself. and she smiles back, like the smug asshole she is.
and then, because your body was actively conspiring against you now, your eyes drifted lower, back toward her ribs where you know her injury to be. sevika saw it, of course she did.
“there.” she says and you frown.
“what?.”
“that thing.”
“what thing?”
“y’keep doing that.” she gestures to you in the vaguest way possible. you stared.
“doing what, exactly?”
“checking me out.” immediately your eyes snapped to hers, and you find that shes already looking at you.
“excuse me! you’re injured, i’m checking on you. you sat here for an hour with fresh stitches- which is obviously not what i meant when i said go home and rest.”
“mhm.” she hums noncommittally and you roll your eyes so hard you think that maybe ekko was right when he told you one day your eyes would get stuck like that.
“fucking unbelievable.” you huff, standing to dust off your skirt and make distance from her and her stupid smirk and her poorly-healing stitches.
sevika looked at you for a second after that, really looked. and when she spoke again the teasing had softened around the edges.
“wanted to make sure you got down.”
just like that. simple. no grin attached to it.
you look down at her, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together in annoyance or contentment, neither of you knew which. it ultimately didn’t matter because regardless of how you felt- sevika was already pushing herself up with her mech hand and a small grunt to accompany it.
“c’mon.” she says, bending to grab her jacket off the step, shaking it off and throwing it over her shoulder. you look at her for a moment, considering questioning her or debating or being- in her words- difficult, but you land on a curt nod. following her. tired.
she reaches for you and her hand settles on the small of your back as she guides you through the lanes you’ve known and walked alone for years. you notice everything she does, even as tired as you are and as tired as your brain is- you notice her every move.
she walks on the more dangerous side of the street, always. she scans the lanes, above and below where you are- left and right. she towers you with her frame and all of her touches linger in ways that you know are intentional.
“sevika.” you taste her name on your tongue, you say it cautiously as if not to scare her.
she looks at you from the corner of her eye, quickly and then back at the street. she grunts in response and you let out a small breathy laugh.
“i could’ve gotten home by myself just fine, you know.” you say, to which she hums in response.
“so why did you stay?” you ask, quieter. some part of you probably had hoped that the hissing of the fissures had covered the question.
“maybe silco sent me to keep tabs on you.” she said, flatly. in the dry way her humor tended to be.
“i’m serious.” you said. smaller still.
“i wanted to make sure you got home, my way of paying you for your services.” she said, with a sigh.
“so, it’s transactional then-” you observe, unhappily.
“why are you picking a fight with me right now?” she cuts you off almost immediately and you’re taken aback by her brashness.
“i’m not.” you say, defensiveness woven into your tone.
“you are and i don’t understand why.” she says, matter-of-factly.
she turns into your lane and you see the familiar sign of your shop dangling with the breeze of the wind- much softer than the wind on the overpass. you think on what she’s saying to you, you try to make it make sense but your brain is burnt out and your stomach is running on no food and your feet hurt and your satchel is weighing your shoulder down. and even worse- she’s not making sense right now. and you don’t know how to deal with something that doesn’t make sense, especially not right now.
before you know it, you’re stood in front of your shop with sevika beside you. she leans against the brick beside the door and you look at her with your tired eyes.
“what is that look for?” she asks, with the tilt of her head.
“you’re making my life very hard.” you blurt out, unbuttoning her coat to reach the satchel beneath for your keys to the shop, you fumble with the latch and huff in frustration.
“i just walked you home, and that’s making your life difficult?”
“yes-”
“how-”
“because, i don’t know what you want from me or why you’re here and it’s stressing me out. what is it? what are you doing?” you question her aggressively, trying and failing to shove your key into the lock embarrassingly, several times before sevika grabs them and does it for you. her fingers are rough and calloused when they cover your smaller fingers.
“i don’t need help.” you snapped at her. and you definitely notice that she used that act to side-step your questions.
“y’sure looked like you needed my-” she begins to joke with you but you feel a flush creeping up your face as your mind can’t seem to get past the lingering sensation of her rough hands touching your hand.
“gods. you’re being impossible.” you groan and push the door open with your hip as you begin to take off your coat and boots at the door. aether is waiting, judgementally, on your workbench. hissing to show her disapproval.
“can you not?” you rhetorically ask her. and you see sevika out of the corner of your eye, taking the key out of the door, closing it and bolting it behind herself.
the lock slid home with finality, and sevika discarded her jacket on the hook by the door and started moving though the shop like she belonged here. looking around, dragging her hand across the leather of the couch, over the wood of the tables and shelves.
you regulate yourself, breathing quietly but deeply and cracking your knuckles as you move over to your worktable. as you do, aether leaps down and goes to sniff at sevika’s ankles as she moves through the shop. she rubs her head against her boot and that gets sevika to look down at her. she smiles, amused and looks up at you.
looks at you with a crooked grin and gestures to your traitorous cat. she’s amused until she sees you reach for a jar of moss- then nothing’s funny and an incredulous expression finds itself covering her features.
“don’t you think it’s a little late to work?” she asks and you scoff. not even dignifying it with a response because when has she ever seen you not working. when has anybody ever seen you not working? and, more importantly, everybody benefits from your work so they should really stop acting like they want you to stop. they don’t.
“hello? venus?” she says, crossing the distance between you both with a few strides, coming up on your side. you press your lips together and keep your eyes trained on the moss in the jar as you prep the worktable with your disinfectant. like you don’t smell her, or feel the heat of her body or the way her thigh brushes against yours.
she takes the rag right out of your hand.
you jerk your head to face her, expression stormy and mouth open to speak. but then you take her in, her arm raised with your rag above her head- muscles taut and pulled tight with the motion. the low light of the shop in all it’s nightly glory cutting across her face making it as angular as possible and you look at her lowly lidded eyes, unhappy with you. but she looks so good and before you can think-
your lips crash against hers, sudden and jolting. your eyes are pressed close with the grace of a hormonal teenager and your fingers are curled around the collar of her shirt and you can’t help but sigh in sheer relief. you feel the scar on her lip against yours, and finally you know what she feels like- lips pressed against yours.
sevikas as still as stone, and you see her frozen in place when you pull back and let your eyes flutter open. she’s wearing an expression of pure shock and her arm is lowered from where it was holding your rag.
just when the reality of what you’ve done becomes to weigh down on you and your brows draw together in concern and confusion- she crashes back into you with a groan. the rag is long forgotten and her hands come to grab at your waist pulling you closer until your chests are pressed up against one another.
its hungry, restless and intense like both of you have spent far too long pretending there wasn't something here. all of that patience, snapping like a wire before either of you can think better of it.
the force of it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.
and it’s not just the kiss, it’s the certainty. because sevika doesn't hesitate.
one moment she's staring at you like you've lost your mind and the next she's pulling you closer with a low sound of disbelief, as if she can't quite believe you've done this either. but the disbelief is not enough to begin to outweigh the need.
your worktable presses into the back of your hips. and glass rattles softly somewhere behind you. neither of you cares.
your hands migrate from their place on her collar and find themselves tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her ever closer with a sigh spilling from her lips in the microsecond that you two aren’t connected.
her body is oppressive against yours, and you really get to feel her against you for the first time- like this. you crane your neck up to meet her lips and kisses you like she has something to prove to you. her teeth nip at your lower lip and it’s like you’ve finally found something that can shut your brain up. you think of nothing, nothing but her lips and her hands.
and when you finally pull back for air, it's only by an inch.
her forehead drops against yours and her eyes stay closed. but you, you’re searching for anything on her face. contentment, bliss, confusion… regret?
you stare at her, and your fingers work at the hair on the back of her neck, twirling the hair there. when she doesn’t make a face you find your head dropping, eyes closing. your foreheads stay pressed, and you feel her tighten her grip on your waist holding you tightly to her chest. it feels like a hug, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve really felt that.
you feel a wave of…sadness…start in the center of your chest and spill outward at the realization. she has a way of making you think, not that you aren’t always thinking, but she has a way of making you feel and think things that you haven’t spared a thought for in years. it’s annoying.
“i can hear you thinking.” she says, her voice is breathy in a way that you’ve not heard her even after she was freshly stabbed.
“what am i thinking then?” you say softly,
“that i’m annoying.” she said, and you could hear the self-satisfied smile in her voice.
“thats a given.” you roll your eyes with a scoff and finally allow your eyes to make contact with hers.
“but what you’re really trying to figure out is what happens next.” she says. you avert your eyes immediately.
the words hit harder than expected, because they're true- painfully so.
you lean back just enough to look at her, taking your hands back to rest yourself on your worktable but sevika’s hands stay on you, moving from your waist to the curve of your hips. resting, casual.
her mech hand comes to grab your chin, tilting you back to face her. her eyes meet yours immediately, challenging you to look back.
there’s no teasing, no smug grin to hide behind. just honesty, she’s giving her all to you and you don’t know what to do with that. you never have.
you hate how quickly your chest tightens because the reality is that you've spent most of your life planning for things to end, for people to leave. one of the most important things that you’ve learned is to plan for disappointment before it can surprise you.
and now she's standing here looking at you like the possibility hasn't even occurred to her. like this doesn't have to be temporary. like she's sure.
your gaze drops briefly to her lips, to her jaw, her shirt all bunched up from where your hands were parched on her. anywhere but her eyes.
"i… don't like not knowing things." you admit with a kiss of your teeth. the admission escapes before you can stop it.
sevika scoffs, "yeah. i noticed."
you roll your eyes and she smiles. a new smile, it's quiet and unsure and you’re certain that nobody else has seen it.
"you know what's really irritating?" you furrow your brows and tilt your chin up at her.
"to you? lots of things, i’m sure." she quips.
"sevika."
"venus." you can't help the laugh that escapes you. you hate her, she’s difficult. she’s also probably thinking the same thing about you. sevika's smile only widens at the sound. she leans into you, crowding your space.
the sight does something deeply unfair to your nervous system.
"what's irritating?" she asks, with a tilt of her head and a furrowed brow in a show of mock pity, messing with you.
you stare at her for a moment and your brain plays that game where you have a whole conversation in your head in a split second on whether or not you should be sincere or not. then you answer honestly.
"you…stayed." the words leave you before you can dress them up, and you wince at the sappiness of what you just allowed to come out of your mouth.
"yeah." she agrees. doesn’t push or argue.
your throat tightens.
"you just..." you struggle for the words, it’s embarrassing and you hate that anybody has the ability to see you like this.
"i kept trying to figure out what you… wanted."
sevika's brows pull together slightly, confused.
as if the answer has been obvious this entire time. as if you've somehow, despite all of your brain and analysis and observation, still missed it. and maybe you have.
because when she speaks, it sounds legitimately ridiculous.
"i wanted to spend time with you."
the room goes as silent as it can with all of the noise of the lanes outside and the shop's steady humidified breaths. you stare at her, eyes shifting back and forth, scanning her eyes for a hidden answer that you’re so sure is there beneath it all.
she says it like it's obvious.
like waiting beneath a staircase for over an hour is a perfectly normal thing to do when you like someone. your laugh escapes before you can stop it, disbelieving, a little broken around the edges.
sevika's expression softens immediately and for the first time all evening, you don't look away.
you just stand there, held against her chest, looking at her.
and allowing yourself, however briefly, however ill-advised, to believe her.
taglist: @dumb-pup-slut @vxtanne31 @madame-midnight @poeticpulses @djena1d @whotfisthatsblog
If Shoko and Gojo had noticed Geto spiralling.
Sort of a rough continuation of the previous set of drawings on what would have happened had Geto called them.
FUCCKCKKKKKKK
While I'm finishing the brothel piece.... Here you go! Another Sevika sketch >:) Should I render it??? Also if I can at last understand how patreon works I'll be opening NSFW comms there next month!!!
BROOKLYN BABY
Everyone outside the hotel thinks they know you. They know the stage persona, the voice, the eyeliner, the way you destroy yourself on stage night after night. But only Vi knows what happens after the lights go out—how your hands shake after concerts, how exhausted you really are, how badly you need someone to hold you together before you completely fall apart.
tags: explicit sexual content (18+), rockstar au, singer!reader, guitarist!Vi, tribbing, pussy grinding, clit stimulation, nipple play, biting, spitting, finger sucking, weed smoking, praise and teasing, emotional intimacy, soft dom Vi.
The bathroom in your hotel room smells like weed, steam, and your shampoo. The hot water runs down your body like punishment, barely any pressure behind it, but you’re grateful for every drop anyway because tonight’s show was a slaughterhouse, too many people, too much noise, too much of everything. The microphone still vibrates in your hands even though it’s been two hours since you walked offstage, your throat feels scraped raw from screaming down to your guts, your makeup running because you couldn’t even bother taking it off before the shower, and your thighs ache from jumping under the stage lights. Nobody prepared you for this, for this animal devotion, the roar, the pressure of being the band’s singer, of making every show more epic than the last even while you’re falling apart inside. Outside the hotel there are probably another hundred, another thousand fans, all convinced you’re some untouchable goddess and not a wreck of a human being who hasn’t slept properly in six months.
The only thing you have is Vi. Vi, with her razor-cut hair dyed by you, tattooed arms and easy laugh, waiting for you in bed like you’re the center of gravity of the whole fucking universe. She’s completely naked, legs spread, with that hungry look she never loses. There’s a joint between her teeth and she watches you, impatient and amused, while you walk out of the bathroom, barely drying yourself off, naked all the way to the bed where she’s already turned the lights off. Without saying anything, you throw yourself on top of her, crush her under your wet body, and she takes you in laughing, kissing you slow enough that it feels like slow motion. Vi holds the back of your neck, plays with your lips while her hands slide down your back to your ass, squeezing you and pulling you higher against her.
“You know what killed me today?” Vi asks, pulling back from the kiss, voice rough from cigarettes and screaming.
“What?”
“When you hit that high note a few hours ago. I thought your throat was gonna split in half.”
“I almost threw up,” you answer with a laugh, pressing your forehead to hers. “How’s your hand holding up?”
Vi lifts it, flexing her knuckles, all bruised and dry-skinned from the chords. “It’ll fall off on its own eventually. I’m letting it.”
You kiss her hand and look back up at her eyes, not before stopping at her lips first, of course. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t stop you. Vi is always willing when it comes to you, no matter how crazy or ridiculously romantic it is. Taking advantage of that, you keep kissing lower, tracing a path to her middle finger, sucking it gently. Vi sighs at the heat of your mouth, your tongue around her finger, and decides to push her ring finger in too, grabbing your chin so she can talk.
・𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋・
SUMMARY: You are Fratboy!Vi’s girl and she makes it very well known to everyone and yourself that you are hers.
CONTENTS: Nsfw, mdni, headcanons + smut scenes, modern au, college au, vaginal fingering, marking, finger sucking, semi public sex, partying, possessiveness, established relationship, oral sex, strap-on’s.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Merri’s Notes. . . Vi art is by @/blkfairyy0 on x !!
FRATBOY!VI who comes up to you the second she sees you arrive at a party. Hugging you from behind, a red cup in one hand and her other sliding around your waist to rest on your stomach. Who kisses the side of your jaw, your neck, your cheek—you know she’s drunk but you can’t help but smile and lean into her.
FRATBOY!VI who tries to act cool when the others tease her about being a softy for you but can’t help but blush because they’re right, she is. 99 out of 100 percent of the time you are wearing her jacket, but that’s mostly because she likes seeing you in it. And totally not because she likes seeing other people see you in it.
Zuko
VENUS PART FOUR
description: apothecary!reader is finding it harder and harder to stay impartial to sevika. outside of just business, sevika keeps finding her way into your life. and you…want her to stay?
warnings: fluff in the zaun way, blood, violence, slowest burn you know, emotionallystunted!reader, whipped!sevika
a/n: been fighting for my life but here i am y’all
part three here
the lock slid into place behind sevika with a soft metallic click, the door shut in its finality that would normally have had you exhaling a bidden breath. a sigh of relief, a release of tension.
you stood still for a moment after it, definitely not listening for the sound of her footsteps. definitely not overconcerned to see if she was quick or slow to leave, absolutely not curious at all to hear if she was lingering in the way that your mind is..
but your body, nevertheless, tracked the sound anyway. heavy boots against metal grating. slower now than when she had arrived. measured. reluctant almost.
and then there was silence.
the absence settled strangely through the shop, it was tangible and uncomfortable. you already found yourself missing her commentary, feeling her eyes on you whenever you spoke.
the humidifiers still hissed softly in the corners. the kettle murmured low over its perpetual flame. somewhere overhead old pipes knocked through the walls in uneven rhythm. the record player crackled beneath a low guitar line while candlelight climbed lazily across hanging herbs and glass bottles. and suddenly the space felt intimate and you realized just how comfortable you let yourself be mere minutes ago.
you turned back toward the worktable before the feeling could root itself properly, and you resumed your dissections.
ekko was still standing near the center of the room watching you. thinking. it was irritating and grating because you could practically hear the gears turning and you knew you weren’t going to like whatever it was that his brain conjured up.
one hand rubbed absently against the inside of his elbow while the other stayed tucked beneath his arm. restless. unsure. he only got still like this when something genuinely bothered him, and you could literally hear his mouth opening and closing periodically.
you continued your ministrations, almost absentmindedly.
“you’re staring,” you remarked mildly.
“you’re acting weird.”
you scoffed softly. “how unlike me.”
normally that would’ve earned an immediate grin from him, this time his mouth only twitched faintly before flattening again.
“…what was she still doing here?” he asked.
direct.
you kept your attention on the mushroom beneath your blade. pale blue spores dusted across your fingertips as you sliced cleanly through the stem. you feel yourself trying to explain in your mind before you open your mouth. because really, why was she still there?
“having tea.” you tersely decide on saying.
“with you.” he prods with every word he speaks.
“generally how tea works.” and you step back with every sentence you speak.
“venus.”
there it was, the tone that meant he was trying very hard not to push too hard. you sighed softly through your nose because whenever he took up this tone it did mean that he would eventually poke too far and test your restraint.
“she stayed after silco left.” you said.
“silco?”
“work.” you dismissed, definitely holding that as close as you can, the sharpness slipped out before you could smooth it over.
ekko noticed immediately, his shoulders tightened slightly beneath his jacket before easing again and now he’s being careful and that irritated you more than it should have. you knew how he felt about silco, but if he could forgive jinx- he would have to find it in his heart to tolerate you.
“we had tea, thats all.” you said softly, focusing back on your work.
“she doesn’t exactly seem like the lingering-over-tea type,” he said and there goes that fucking tone again.
“maybe she was captivated by my hospitality, would that be so hard to believe?” you joked, smiling ever so slightly but when you flick your eyes over at him you find the same overly pensive stare that he’s apparently dedicated to giving you.
“she looked at you like she wanted to bite you.” he says, and you roll your eyes but you can’t ignore the heat that prickled beneath your skin.
“she’s expressive,” you said mildly.
ekko barked out a laugh. “no, she isn’t.”
“…fair.”
that finally pulled a brief grin from him before concern settled back over his face and he started watching you too carefully.
you became abruptly aware of yourself in deeply irritating ways. the looseness still lingering in your shoulders from earlier. the warmth beneath your ribs where sevika’s hands had rested against your waist. the phantom memory of her laugh vibrating low through the room. it was a betrayal, the awareness that your body had before your thoughts managed to catch up.
you hated involuntary things. ekko’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…you’re frowning.”
your knife paused. barely but enough. you resumed immediately, expression flattening smooth again.
“is that out of the ordinary?”
“are you upset?” your stomach tightened and you finally gave up on what you were doing. you leaned back against the counter loosely, crossing your arms.
“i’m just thinking, that's all.”
“about her?” he asked and you cut him a look of exhaustion.
“yeah, she’s interesting. is it wrong for me to think about what you’re insinuating?” he pulls his lips into a thin line, and shakes his head no at you while you talk. he stared at you, like he was watching a train crash and you hated it.
ekko exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers dragging over the back of his neck.
“she’s spent twenty years inside silco’s camp,” he said carefully. “you know what survival turns people like that into.” he lectures, as he does, and you largely try to tune it out but it is irritating all the same. you hated your inability to pass on conversation. anything said is interesting and worthy of your ear, even in times like this where it really, really pisses you off.
“you say that like zaun happened to her and not to me.” a silence passes between you two and this is why you hate conversations like this. ekko was bad at masking his disappointment in you. and yes, you were detached and aloof or whatever reductive word he could use to make it seem like it’s not a big deal- but it hurt.
in his mind, you were wasting your prowess on “bad” things. he thought you could heal zaun if you wanted to and that you chose to do this instead. and you knew there was a part of him that would always resent you for what you could have been.
“she became hard because she survived?” you asked softly. “what exactly do you think happened to me?”
“that’s not what I meant.” he says, and you believe him. but he’s still wrong. he thinks that you and sevika are different because he doesn’t like her and he finds himself liking you. he needs to make that make sense and you know, unfortunately, that it just doesn’t make sense.
your fingers moved automatically now, needing something to do, you wipe the blade clean despite the fact that it already was.
“sevika’s violence is visible,” you continued quietly. “mine isn’t. that doesn't make me a saint, ekko. it makes me underhanded.” you set the knife down again and try your absolute hardest to be still and focus on the conversation that you’re having but it’s like your body is protecting you.
“i know what you’ve done.”
“yes,” you murmured. “intellectually.” that made him look at you.
“you still look at me and see someone separate from people like her, and i’m really not.”
“that’s not true.”
“which part?”
ekko rubbed both hands over his face before looking back at you. he’s always had a little bit of a short fuse. not in any meaningful way, but he was stubborn.
“i don’t even know why i bother to have these conversations with you, you always think you’re smarter than everybody else in the room.” it comes out rude and abrasive in a way that you’ve never been to him, in a way that you wish he wouldn’t be to you. but zaun affects everyone.
and that’s what it took for your body to finally go still. withdrawn.
ekko regretted it instantly. you saw it happen across his face in real time. but you just looked on, waited for the retraction you knew was coming. and that’s the worst part about arguing with ekko- there’s nothing to argue. he’d go too far and then he’d retract it and leave you with no basis to be mad.
“venus-”
“that’s a deeply unfair thing to say to somebody who survived by needing to be.” your voice stayed calm, but your body jolted to action. you made your way to the kettle and busied yourself with making a fresh cup of tea. that made it worse, you watched ekko shift on his feet.
finally, he started pacing, unable to stay still anymore.
“you think understanding something means you can control it,” he said. “you think because you can predict danger you’re somehow above consequence.”
“…nothing’s happening between us, and i’m not going to argue with you about it.” you say and continue what you’re doing.
“-she’s like twice your age!” he blurts out and you actually look over your shoulder in genuine shock.
“...that’s your issue…seriously?” you find yourself wanting to laugh, partly because boy is he desperate to change your mind but also because its…not true…?
“i dont know!” he yelps practically.
“she has a decade on me at most, gods.” you giggle despite yourself.
“do you even know how old she i-”
“she's thirty three!” you find yourself yelling back, face twisted in amusement and completely incredulous. the second the words left your mouth, ekkos eyes closed.
“oh, you’re already in trouble.” you groaned softly and covered your face with one hand.
“please leave my establishment.” that startled a real laugh out of him. it was warm. familiar and fond despite everything.
“there she is.”
“i’m going to poison you.” ekko grinned faintly before it softened again, it reminded you of when you were both a little younger. you might even be able to credit him for teaching you how to smile and laugh. you feel your smile in your eyes
“just be careful, okay?” you lowered your hand slowly, and for a second neither of you spoke. part of you was frustrated, as you tended to be, but the smarter part was intact enough to realize that he was expressing his care in the wrong way.
because beneath all the frustration and teasing sat the real thing neither of you wanted to say aloud: he was afraid of losing you to something ugly. and you were afraid he still didn’t understand you enough to realize you’d been ugly for years.
-
the shop felt too small after ekko left. not physically, just suddenly too full of yourself. and if there's one thing you hated, it was thinking about yourself. every single one of your thoughts, for the past half an hour have been about yourself and you could feel the thrum of your pulse in your stupid chest.
the lingering flush of your cheeks every time your mind caught on the memory of sevika’s hands at your waist, the thought of her strength and…ability.
annoying.
you moved through the shop resetting things that did not need resetting. straightening bottles. re-folding already folded cloth. reorganizing dried herbs by absolutely meaningless distinctions. you tried to sketch, listen to music, concoct new things and none of it was silencing you.
aether watched from atop the worktable with visible judgment.
“don’t,” you muttered to her.
she blinked slowly and stupidly, undoubtedly unburdened by the stress you certainly were. she meowed at you, again, in an incredibly judgemental tone.
“i am not arguing with you, cat.” you grumbled, blowing a tray hair from your face.
you sighed. the record player crackled softly behind you. low guitar. familiar. usually comforting, but tonight it just made the room feel crowded.
eventually, unable to stand yourself any longer, you reached for your coat. because in your time of need, you knew zaun would be there for you. to swallow you and your problems whole and give you something else to ponder in a way that only zaun could.
the path you took was different every time, because you were smart enough to know that predictable paths are dangerous. and for what its worth, you didn't really go outside much. at the risk of sounding pathetic, you worked, listened to music and visited ekko. occasionally you danced at babettes to keep up appearances but shit- you loved your shop. you barely even went home.
zaun was never safe, but you found it peaceful when you were in the right and you were in the right mood tonight.
the air outside hits cool against your face, carrying the familiar undercity blend of chemical runoff, rust, smoke and distant food stalls closing for the night. neon shimmered wetly across puddles beneath your feet as you walked. your boots made the smallest most imperceptible sound, and somehow it’s all you could hear.
you wandered aimless at first, letting your mind drift as you basked in your anonymity. your satchel swung by your side underneath your coat, hidden from the countless thieves you knew lurked from the shadows.
there was an overlook near the older refinery district you liked when your thoughts became too loud. half-collapsed scaffolding wrapped around an abandoned processing tower, high enough to catch the glow of the fissures below without drawing much traffic.
nobody ever bothered you there, and it was one of the only places you could see a place that wasn’t zaun..
your boots echoed softly against old, damp metal as you cut through a narrower side lane toward it.
and then-
“…you think i’m fuckin’ stupid?”
you stopped immediately, not because of the words, but the voice. sevika.
low and rough in a way you had never heard her be, not that you’ve known her particularly long. it was controlled in that particular way that meant violence was already happening, and that was a tone you were familiar with.
your body reacted before your thoughts did. pulse tightening once beneath your throat. then instinct followed just as quickly: keep walking.
zaun taught that lesson early: don’t look, don’t linger.
you did not involve yourself in sounds coming from dark alleys after midnight unless you were prepared to become part of them. and you never were, you were adamant about that. you never wandered into trouble, but it always found you. on your terms, on your turf.
so you kept moving.
three steps. and then you heard a crack. it was a sickening sound, gross even. you preferred more quiet ways of harm. but your preference was of no importance as the sound of meat against metal followed by a choked sound that barely qualified as human rang out through the lanes.
your pace slowed despite yourself. annoying, again.
the mouth of the alley sat partially obscured ahead between two rusted support beams leaking steam into the dark. shimmerlight bled faintly across wet concrete inside.
you should’ve kept walking.
instead your eyes lifted, just briefly. enough to see three men. two of them were standing, watching in the way that everybody in zaun did. call it casually cruel or survival instinct but there they stood and sevika, sevika stood over a man bloodied and mangled on the floor.
blood streaked across the knuckles of her good hand. her mechanical arm whirred low beside her, wet at the joints with something dark and slick. one of the standing men looked pale beneath the refinery light, posture rigid in the unmistakable stance of somebody trying very hard not to be a victim.
the man on the ground coughed wetly, she no doubt cracked his nose and now the blood was trying to escape from his mouth.
sevika crouched slowly in front of him. not rushed and not emotional but controlled.
“you sold shimmer through my routes,” she said with an even voice.
that was the thing your body recognized immediately.
efficiency.
the man tried to speak through blood.
“i-i didn’t know-” sevika grabbed him by the jaw before he could finish and sue you, you found yourself looking at the curve of her muscles as she exerted that amount of force. she was so irritatingly beautiful and the neon lights cast a purple hue over her that caught on every curve and swell of her muscles in a really unfair way.
her fingers locked against his face hard enough to force a sharp cry from his throat.
“you knew enough to hide it.”
the alley stayed silent after that, not because nobody was afraid.
because everyone was.
you watched her carefully now despite yourself. the precision of her movements, the restraint. the way she escalated deliberately instead of impulsively.
there was no performance in it, no real enjoyment either. just function.
something cold moved quietly through your chest, recognition. then the man spit blood onto the concrete near her boot. bad decision. you felt yourself leaning in to watch more, like a trainwreck almost.
sevika hit him once. so fast that if you had blinked you fully believed you would have missed it. and it was ugly and violent enough that his head cracked sharply against the pavement. a part of you wanted to laugh, its almost like the universe was on ekko’s side. see y/n, look at her. look what she does.
one of the other men flinched as the sound echoed unpleasantly through the alley.
you should definitely leave.
but instead, you found yourself watching the aftermath.
the way sevika’s shoulders rose once with breath, the subtle instability when she straightened afterward, the sweat on her brow, the rise and fall of her chest and you let your eyes roam down, down… down to the blood running darker down one side of her shirt beneath the leather.
definitely not his blood.
your eyes narrowed slightly.
one of the standing men finally muttered:
“…that’s enough.”
sevika turned her head toward him slowly and the man immediately went quiet. then her eyes caught yours. you wonder how long she had known you were there for, if she had even known at all.
she went almost completely still. and the shift in her expression was almost imperceptible if you didn’t know how to look for those things. but you knew.
her posture tightened first, then her jaw and then something colder flickered behind her eyes.
awareness. you had seen her.
for a second neither of you moved. and honestly, you didn’t know what to do. you had just been caught in your voyeurism, should you wave?
the man at her feet groaned weakly, having you tear your eyes from her and onto him. he was going to die soon if he didn’t get patched up. and even if he did get patched up his life is forever changed now, you knew that. sevika knew that you knew that.
sevika stepped back from him immediately. too immediately and of course you noticed. maybe she thought you were pulled to help him by some medical oath you never took.
one of the chemrunners followed her gaze toward you, visibly startled.
“you know her?”
sevika didn’t answer him, her eyes stayed on yours instead.
you felt strangely visible beneath that stare now, because suddenly she looked almost braced for something. disgust maybe. definitely judgment.
you weren’t entirely sure.
your gaze drifted lower briefly at the blood soaked through the fabric beneath sevika’s ribs in slow dark saturation. the source.
not at all deep enough to kill quickly. but absolutely deep enough to become a problem if ignored. when your eyes lifted back to her face, sevika’s expression had hardened completely again.
“you shouldn’t be here,” she said.
your brows lifted faintly, “i was under the impression zaun lacked curfews.”
one of the men nearby shifted awkwardly, sevika tried to ignore him but decided on, “you can go.”
your gaze dropped once more to the blood at her side, and as the patch grows darker and darker your brows furrowed more and more and your concern deepened in the pit of your stomach.
“you’re injured.” the words slipped out before you consciously decided to say them.
sevika stilled and the reaction was immediate enough to almost feel physical. not because you’d seen her violent but because you’d noticed she was hurt instead. for a moment the alley went completely quiet, like even the refinery pipes overhead seemed to dull into the background.
sevika just stared at you. like you were bothering her almost, her gaze didn’t soften at all. it wasn’t hard or threatening but definitely thrown, maybe even irritated.
like she had prepared herself for disgust and instead received assessment instead and she couldn’t tell if she liked that or hated it..
your gaze stayed fixed on the blood soaking steadily through the fabric at her side. dark saturation spreading beneath leather. the wound had happened earlier, you thought. before this. her breathing was too measured now, too practiced around the pain. she’d been functioning through it.
of course she had. one of the chemrunners looked uneasily between the two of you.
“…sevika?”
“get him out of here,” she muttered without looking away from you.
the man on the ground groaned weakly. the others hauled him upright quickly, disappearing deeper into the refinery district with hurried footsteps and lowered heads. then the alley emptied.
leaving only you and sevika beneath the purple hue of the shimmerlight.
water dripped somewhere overhead and your eyes moved once more to the blood at her side.
“it’s not superficial, and you need help.”
sevika’s jaw flexed faintly.
“i’ll live.”
“mm. probably. but you could definitely live if you let the literal apothecary at your service help you.”
that earned the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth before it disappeared again, and you took that as an invitation to step closer. sevika stiffened immediately, the alley suddenly felt too narrow.
“you don’t have to look at me like that,” she muttered.
your brows knit faintly. “like what?”
“like you’re figuring me out.”
you almost smiled, a little too late for concern there.
instead you tilted your head slightly. “i’m always figuring something out. but give me some grace, you're literally bleeding through your shirt.”
“i noticed.”
“and yet you remain here.”
her eyes narrowed faintly at your tone.
“you always this irritating after midnight?”
“usually worse.” a rough laugh escaped her before she could stop it. low. brief. warm enough to hit you physically. annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying.
your body consistently reacted to her in ways that increasingly felt like betrayal.
“you’re losing blood at a steady enough rate to become stupid within the hour,” you said mildly. “which for you would probably present subtly.”
sevika barked another laugh, “you flirt like a real asshole, you know that?”
“well, aren’t you lucky to know that about me?” you smiled at her through your lashes, tilting your head back enough to get a good look at her face up close. clinically, you couldn’t help yourself from scanning for more superficial injuries but what you wouldn’t admit to her is that you just love looking at her face.
her eyes lingered on your face too long after that. heavy. you felt it settle low beneath your ribs.
“…shop?” she asked finally.
the answer should have been yes. instead your eyes drifted upward toward the refinery scaffolding towering above the lanes. the overpass.
quiet.
empty.
yours.
your brother used to take you there when the city became too loud. the memory arrived suddenly enough to make your chest tighten, and it caught you off guard. you shake your head, too jerky and too unlike yourself.
you buried it immediately.
“…not the shop,” you said.
that visibly surprised her.
“you go other places?”
you smiled and shrugged one shoulder lightly. “when i can’t stand to be there, yeah i do.”
sevika looked at you strangely after that. like she understood there was another answer beneath the one you gave her but knew better than to pull at it. you gestured vaguely upward instead.
“there’s a place nearby.”
-
the climb was quiet.
metal stairs groaned beneath your combined weight while the lanes fell away beneath you in fractured neon and steam. wind curled cold through the old refinery skeleton, carrying less chemical stink the higher you climbed. you felt yourself breathing easier, and your shoulders dropped with this new weight lifted. it was dangerous up here, you could almost forget what lurked below.
sevika stayed half a step behind you, close enough that you could feel her there constantly. her hand came up to rest at the small of your back when she was anticipating a shaky step and you absolutely ignored the feeling it stirred in your stomach.
and you hated how aware your body remained of her presence, and how stupidly concerned she was with you when she was in obvious pain.
by the time you reached the overpass, zaun glowed beneath you like exposed circuitry.
the platform jutted crookedly out over the fissures below, one side half-collapsed into darkness. wind moved sharper here, tugging loose strands of your hair free from their tie. your skirt whipped around you violently in the wind, exposing the skin you only exposed at babettes.
you moved immediately toward the far wall.
“sit.”
sevika lowered herself onto an old metal crate with a grunt.
“you bring all your alleyway victims here?”
“you’re hardly a victim of me-”
“indulge me.” she cuts you off with a smile as she sat on an abandoned crate, huffing on her way down.
“well…you’re special. you look… nice hurt.” that startled a real laugh out of her.
longer this time. her head tipped back slightly when she laughed, eyes closing for half a second. you watched her jaw and the curve of her neck as the sound rolled low out of her chest and settled somewhere hot inside you before you could stop it.
you hated that immediately. you knelt in front of her before your thoughts could become inconvenient. settling between her legs, that were so unfortunately spread on either side of you. which you knew she knew was attractive. that made it so much worse.
the second your fingers brushed the hem of her shirt though, sevika went completely still. at least it wasn’t just you.
she was focused, she watched you carefully. she watched as your hands slid beneath torn fabric carefully, pushing leather and blood-soaked cloth aside. her warm skin met your fingertips and the heat bloomed from your fingers, up your arm and settled in your chest.
sevika inhaled sharply through her nose. not from pain, you noted.
the wound sat low along her ribs. knife. deep enough to matter. blood welled sluggishly along the edges when you pressed lightly around it. the only thing holding the wound was a now completely blood- damped napkin that stuck to her shirt when you peeled it back.
“mm,” you murmured softly. “sloppy.”
“was busy.”
“with what?”
“getting stabbed apparently.”
you snorted quietly despite yourself. your hands moved automatically now. cleaning first. pressure second. assessment third. but the intimacy of it settled slowly between you anyway, no matter how hard you tried to separate your stupid chest from your brain.
the wind was blowing in her hair, exposing the curve of her cheekbones. the city below was a distant thought. it didn’t matter. not when your knees were slotted between hers. not when you could smell her underneath all of the blood, unmuddied by the herbs of your shop. not when your fingers danced against her skin, maybe lingering where they didn't need to.
sevika watched you the entire time, you could feel it. her gaze was always heavy. intent.
your own breathing had become irritatingly shallow.
“do you just walk around with these supplies?,” she questioned suddenly.
“you’d be pretty fucked if i didn’t, but yes. you never know. i also walk around with poison, and medicine.” you said softly, pressing your lips together in concentration and annoyance at the swell in your chest. the wind was actively working against you, constantly blowing your hair in your face and just when you found yourself inclined to complain-
sevika brushed it behind your ear, seemingly without thought and your brain short-circuited right then and there. you tilted your head up to meet her gaze, and thanked her in the silent way that thanks passes between two people hell bent on not acknowledging something. the cool of her metal finger settled behind your ear and you snapped your focus back to her wound.
you heard her exhale a laugh more to herself than anything and you chewed the inside of your lip to maintain the concentration you need to have in order to do what you need to do. her hand fell back limp onto her lap.
your fingers paused briefly against her ribs, feeling the hard muscle there and you breath out slow as heat pooled in your stomach.
“you weren’t scared?” she asked, obviously referencing her earlier fight.
“should I have been?”
“i hit him pretty hard.”
“you seemed like you were making a point. who am i to judge, i almost poisoned your boss.”
that seemed to catch her off guard. most people probably saw brutality first when they looked at sevika, you figured- you saw restraint. she could have definitively killed him, but she didn’t. she exercises more restraint than you. you ponder as your hands move absentmindedly, stitching, dabbing alcohol.
sevika’s eyes dragged slowly over your face now, searching for something there. and you felt yourself fixing your face under her gaze. trying to i dont know…look…nicer? less scowly.
“you always understand things this easily?”
“no,” you said softly. “just ugly things, i guess.”
something shifted in her expression at that. recognition.
the wind curled cold around the overpass but heat radiated steadily from sevika beneath your hands.
you reached for clean bandages from your satchel, letting your other hand rest on the expanse of her thigh and sevika’s hand moved suddenly- fast- catching your wrist before you could pull away. your breath hitched before you could stop it.
sevika seemed to have surprised herself too, catching you before she seemed to know what to do with the power. her grip wasn’t rough, just firm. warm fingers wrapped around your pulse.
the both of you seemed abruptly aware of that fact at the same time.
your eyes lifted slowly to hers. the city noise below faded into something distant and meaningless.
she looked at you strangely now. not teasing in the way that she tended to be- not hungry exactly.
worse, careful.
“i didn’t want you to see that.” she had said, letting go of your wrist. you tilted your head at her, trying to understand. she busied her hands, one of them tracing the stitches. unfortunately it drew your attention back to a part of her body you really needed to ignore right now.
“if i didn’t see it, we wouldn’t be here. don’t tell me you’d rather be somewhere else…”
sevika’s expression changed instantly.
small, but real.
you watched it happen in the space between breaths. the carefulness remained, but something beneath it loosened slightly. something warmer. more dangerous.
“wouldn’t have climbed six flights bleeding if i wanted to be anywhere else,” she muttered.
the wind curled sharply around the overpass, catching loose strands of your hair and throwing them across your face. below you zaun glowed in fractured neon and refinery haze, all rust-red lights and chemical blue shimmer bleeding through the dark. you became abruptly aware of your position then. still kneeling between her knees. still close enough to feel the heat coming off her body through the cold night air. still touching her.
stupid.
you looked back down at the wound immediately, focusing on the fresh bandage wrapped low around her ribs and making sure that your eyes didn’t drift too low.
“try not to romanticize medical treatment,” you murmured. “it encourages me.”
a rough laugh slipped out of her. low. warm. dangerously pleased with itself, dangerously pleasing to you.
“you always talk this much when you’re nervous?”
“i don’t get nervous.”
“right.” she hummed.
the sound alone felt smug. you tightened the wrap around her ribs perhaps a little more aggressively than necessary and sevika grunted softly beneath her breath.
“there she is.”
you frowned faintly, smoothing the edge of the bandage flat against the hard plane of her stomach. your fingertips brushed warm skin in the process and immediately your body betrayed you again. you could feel her breathing beneath your hands now. slow. controlled. the steady rise and fall shifting lightly against your fingertips every few seconds.
her breaths were coming out with more…sound… than before. shallow little sighs at the pressure you were applying. maybe you’re crazy, but something about her injured was really doing something for you right now that you needed. to. stop.
your own breathing had become frustratingly uneven.
the silence stretched between you after that, and it wasn’t awkward. it was worse than awkward. the wind hissed through broken scaffolding overhead while somewhere far below machinery groaned through the lower lanes, but up here the city felt distant. swallowed beneath height and darkness and the low mechanical whir of sevika’s arm resting against her thigh.
you became aware of her watching you again.
“you have a staring problem.”
“so you keep telling me.”
your eyes lifted despite yourself and immediately you regretted it, sevika was already looking at your mouth.
the realization hit hard enough to make your pulse stumble and you looked away immediately, but that only made you more aware of everything else. the heat of her body. your sides caged in between her muscular thighs. the smell of blood and smoke and metal beneath the cleaner scent of your herbs.
your thoughts stalled abruptly. sevika’s hand moved first.
her fingers closed slowly around your wrist where it rested against her side, giving you more than enough time to pull away if you wanted to.
you didn’t.
your breath caught softly anyway and you saw the moment she noticed. her thumb shifted once against the inside of your wrist, directly over your pulse.
tiny movement. devastating. now she knows exactly how affected you are. the both of you went still after that. not frozen exactly but focused.
your pulse beat traitorously hard beneath her fingers and you hated that she could probably feel it. sevika’s eyes remained fixed on your face now, searching it with an intensity that made your skin feel too tight.
“you keep looking at me so pretty,” she said quietly. your throat tightened unexpectedly.
your body leaned back automatically before the rest of you could follow. only an inch. enough that sevika absolutely noticed. something flickered briefly across her face at that, not irritation but awareness. the more time you spend around her the more you hated how attentive she was.
“you should probably let go of me,” you murmured.
“should i ?” the question immediately settled low in your stomach.
you finally looked at her again, which was another mistake entirely.
the city lights cut sharp lines across her face up here. the scar through her brow. the bruising beginning dark along her jaw. blood still streaked across the knuckles of her good hand where she’d split someone open less than an hour ago. everything was highlighted in clarity that you’ve never had before and there is not a single flaw on her face
you should have found her frightening but instead your body reacted with terrible, instinctive recognition.
sevika’s fingers tightened once around your wrist. a question.
that somehow made it infinitely worse.
the space between you narrowed slowly after that. almost unconsciously. neither of you seem entirely certain who moved first. you noticed the warmth of her breath before anything else, then the scrape of metal when her prosthetic shifted slightly against the crate beneath her.
your own breathing had almost ceased completely, and you waited with bated breath. she leaned closer and closer and her eyes, devastatingly, could not stay on yours. she was entranced by your lips and you couldn’t stop searching her face for something. she moved slow enough to stop herself and more importantly- slow enough for you to stop her.
you didn’t. not immediately.
your pulse hammered violently beneath your skin now. you could feel it in your throat, in your wrists, somewhere deep beneath your ribs. you could kiss her.
the realization arrived suddenly enough to feel catastrophic, not because you didn’t want to because you really, really did. but she wasn’t stable, or safe and neither were you and neither was zaun.
love leaves, love dies.
and one thing you know for certain is that love destroys what’s left behind.
your body pulled back before your mind fully caught up. small movement. enough to break the moment cleanly in half.
you looked down immediately, fingers fumbling with the edge of the cloth covering her stitches, flattening what was already flat. making sure it stayed in place. removing the blood soaked rag she used prior and discarding it on the floor.
“you’re going to tear the stitches,” you said quietly.
silence. complete. sevika went very still. you squeezed your eyes shut and reached for your satchel to organize your things as your work here was done.
heat crawled hot and humiliating up your throat and you focused aggressively on adjusting the already perfectly secured bandage just to have something to do with your hands.
finally sevika leaned back slightly, releasing your wrist. the absence of warmth felt immediate and you know she was disappointed, even if she would never show it on her face.
“what are we doing?” she asked quietly.
the question wasn’t mocking, or teasing and there was no smile on her face or in her voice. that made it infinitely worse and your jaw tightened in complete upset- remorse, guilt?
“you were stabbed less than an hour ago. i hardly think this qualifies as ideal timing.” it was a poor attempt at a joke. you obviously knew that but the absence of a laugh made your head swim.
when you flickered your gaze over to her face, she was looking at you. concerned.
you shake your head once and tied off the final bandage and sat back on your heels, finally putting actual distance between your bodies. cold air rushed into the space immediately and neither of you seemed particularly pleased about it.
“you should avoid heavy lifting for a few days,” you said clinically.
“i throw grown men for work.”
“unfortunate.”
“and if I ignore you?”
“you’ll bleed again.”
sevika hummed softly, eyes still fixed on you.
“because you definitely wouldn’t enjoy patching me up. right?”
your stomach flipped hard enough to irritate you and you stood abruptly before the feeling could settle deeper.
“you are deeply insufferable while injured.” you brushed your hands clean against the excess of your skirt, no doubt leaving streaks of blood down your sides.
“and you get weird when people look at you too long.”
“just you.” you spoke too freely.
something softer flickered briefly across her face after that. not triumph. not amusement.
understanding. which somehow felt far more dangerous.
the wind tugged sharply at your coat again, cold against overheated skin. sevika stood slowly after a moment, one hand pressing briefly against her side and you immediately tracked the movement automatically. the pressure. the pain level. the blood loss.
sevika caught you doing it and her mouth twitched faintly.
“see?” she murmured. “there you go again.”
you frowned slightly. “what am i doing?”
“looking at me all pretty, like i matter.” your eyes search each other, she’s prodding to get you to say something she knows you won't say without any encouragement and you’re looking in her eyes trying to find somebody safe enough to say it to. you looked away first, because you’re a coward.
“don’t you?” you replied evenly. she moves closer to you and for one terrible second you thought she might try again.
and the awful thing was, you weren’t entirely sure you would be able to stop her this time. that realization unsettled you enough that you stepped back first. tiny movement. still obvious.
sevika noticed, of course she did.
but instead of looking irritated, she looked almost patient which was so much worse.
“you should head back home to get some rest, i’m sure silco would understand.” you said quietly. you grab her hand and unfold her palm facing upward and place a small vial in her hand and close her fingers gently around it, feeling her gaze on the profile of your face, “for the pain.”
a rough laugh escaped her.
“you kick all your patients out this fast?”
“only the difficult ones.”
“thought i was special?”
you ignored the warmth that sentence caused entirely on principle, but found yourself trying to smile despite it. sevika lingered another second before finally nodding once. then she turned toward the stairs.
halfway there, she stopped.
she didn’t look back when she spoke.
“i’ll see you?”
“yes.”
then she disappeared down the metal staircase before you could decide whether you wanted to follow her or stay here, alone.
so you stayed alone, propping your head on your arms crossed over the railing. looking out below at the shitty city you call your home. and then you look up, at piltover.
wondering who you and sevika could have been if you had been born anywhere else.
taglist: @dumb-pup-slut @vxtanne31 @madame-midnight @poeticpulses @djena1d
a/n: okay the GOOD NEWS is that the next chapter is already almost done AND my semester is almost over so i’m locked in!! ty for reading <3
Internet Girl - C.K.
Synopsis. On campus? Choso Kamo’s the sweet, shy nerd you share film class with - the one who can barely meet your eyes without blushing. Online? Choso Kamo is really @cursed(your)wombz—the #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends with 820k followers to see his…nine inches. And he might just be looking for a partner.
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, streamer!Choso, (sort of) B́J Alex AU, cámboy!Choso, college AU, he’s a nerd, film nerd!Choso, secret identities, masks, píercings (ears, tóngue, D), tattoos, chat, streaming, you’re a fan, identity reveal, exhíbitíonism, oraI (fem rec.), again PlERCINGS, tongue f, spítting, p sIapping, p talking, letting the viewers choose, fíngering with rings, overstím, dúmbifícation, Jacob’s Ladder, rough s, fiIthy s, he’s sIightly mean, tummy buIges, making it fit, pressing down, talking you through it, cIit pinching, pússydrúnk Choso, matíng presses, chokíng, manhandIing, mocking, sIight níppIe stim, creampíes, chat Iove you, cúmpIay, getting together, Phantom of the Opera references, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.9k
A/N. Hehehehehe-
Sunday was the night you’d found him; sprawled out on your bed and thumbing through the Internet. Some glitzy pop song you couldn’t name blasted from your speakers, and the room was saturated in the tingly excitement of having speedy Wi-Fi, no assignments, and the night to yourself. LED lights pink.
You’re checking some of your messages - doling out a few hearts, a few reposts - when that bell-shaped button bursts in blue. A new notification.
@cursed(your)wombz liked your repost.
It was on a photograph of the Sun—big and yellow, seemingly melting over a grey horizon.
Which was perfectly ordinary- this was the Internet, after all. And though your list of followers was modest, of course you’d interact with a stranger here and there.
The problem was in the way the notification disappeared as soon as it came.
An…accident maybe? This person had liked and unliked your repost. And without a second thought, you’re typing their username into the search bar.
And clicking on their profile.
emo!choso who’s so down bad for the most popular girl on campus.
everyone knows you.
you're the girl half the campus wants to get with, the entire campus wants to befriend. you're known. laughter trails behind you like glitter when you talk to people, and your name floats through conversations even when you're not there.
you're all smiles and pretty hair and these eyes. they're so captivating. you're hard to miss. choso doesn't miss you.
he notices you every day. you're everywhere in his head. you ruined his life the first time he saw you walking with your friend, sunlight catching in your hair and wearing a top in the prettiest shade of pink he'd ever seen.
choso watches you in class, hoodie pulled low, thumb tracing over his snakebite piercings. the way you tap your pen against your notebook, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're trying to concentrate.
sometimes your eyes flick over to him when the prof calls on him, just a second longer than necessary. those moments keep him up until late at night, one hand holding his phone, scrolling through your instagram highlights, the other wrapped tightly around his cock.
and god, does he wish he had the courage to talk to you. he's seen the guys you're around - the frat types, the confident ones. not him, with his dark hair and sunken eyes and tattoos.
you've got his mind in a loop, all over again, and he tries to put his mind off while heading to the campus convenience store.
the bell over the door chimes. he doesn't even have to look.
"do they still have the good iced coffees here?"
you’re talking to the cashier, but it might as well be aimed straight at choso. every word lands somewhere too close.
when he turns, he holds back a breath because wow, you're even prettier up close, and wow he's scared he's standing too close to you.
you notice him noticing. your eyes meet his. "hey," you say like it's the most normal thing in the world.
choso forgets how to exist.
“…hi.” it comes out rough, his voice gone dry.
you smile softly. "i've seen you around."
his brain fully short-circuits. "you...have?" smooth. nice one.
you tilt your head slightly. "yeah. you're in my psych class, right? you always sit at the back."
“yeah.” brilliant conversationalist. truly.
but you don't seem put off. if anything, your smile deepens. "i always wondered why you look so intense all the time," you add, almost teasing.
if only you knew. he swallows. "i, uh...just thinking about class. i guess."
"cool," you say after a pause. "i don't really pay attention in class."
choso holds himself back before he says ' i know '.
"well, i'm glad i finally talked to you," you say lightly.
finally? the word echoes in choso's brain, electric.
"me too," he says before he can stop the words from coming out.
your expression flickers, and you say, "maybe you should sit closer next class. so you don't have to stare from the back."
choso's heart does something violent in his chest. “i—yeah. maybe.”
you nod, satisfied, like a decision’s been made. "perfect."
you grab your drink, give a quick goodbye to the cashier, and head for the door.
right before you leave, you glance back. "see you, choso."
the bell chimes as you leave.
you know his name.
made a lis edit and said let me share this w my people !!
ᕱᕱ ྀི. making out with choso
you sat against the headboard on your nintendo, humming to the cheery background tune in the new tomodachi life demo. you were customizing you and your boyfriend into the game, so there choso lied on your chest, messing with one of the many scattered plushies on the bed and listening to your mindless commentary on the game.
“i completely forgot our heights sh– ohmigosh, i'm dancing. wait, stop, stop dancing. i can’t do the heights, tell her to stop what the hell.”
but choso wasn’t fully there. his bare chest was flushed against your waist, his cheek against your rising and falling chest, and your bare legs were entangled with his as if you were one. of course he was turned on right now. he couldn’t help it when he’s so close to you.
he wanted your hands in his hair, your gaze upon him, your attention solely his—safe to say he was needy. he was restless, taking staggering breaths as he tried to allow the feeling to pass. his efforts were obviously futile, as his cock was hard against the bed, throbbing at every shift. his hand left the plushie, grazing over your thigh, watching the goosebumps appear across your skin. he could hear your breath hitch, your finger twitching, but your eyes stayed glued to the game.
“baby,” he murmured softly, barely above a whisper. he rose, hovering over your body, his brows furrowed with pleading eyes. his hands trailed up your arms, intertwining his fingers with yours before slowly removing the nintendo from your hands.
his lips pecked your cheek, traveling to the corners of your lips, “can’t you put this down for a second?”
your protests were weak( if there was any tbh) , “cho, i was making you…”
“but i’m right here?”
“smartass, i mean-“
before you knew it, his lips greedily latched onto yours, pulling you into a deep and desperate kiss. his tongue immediately slid into your mouth, twirling around yours.
he lifted your leg, resting it on his hip and placing a knee between them. you could feel his erection pulsating against you, teasing the inner corners of your thighs. you ate up his eager whimpers as his hands trekked up your thighs, slipping under your shorts and gripping your ass, leaving the area aching and red. his other hand found its way under your shirt, groping your breasts, rolling your buds between his two fingers. you squirmed under his touch, hands clinging to and scratching his biceps as you moaned pathetically into his mouth.
he broke this kiss for barely a second before swooping back in, devouring you whole, completely drunk of your taste. his hands left your nipple, instead holding the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the kiss. slick built up in your panties, soaking through and leaving a wet patch. lewd, wet smacking sounds filled the room as salvia dripped down his chin.
you could feel yourself growing hotter at the moment, feeling sweat build up between you two. before you died of overheating, he broke the kiss. a sinful string of salvia between your tongues followed for a split second before detaching.
both of your pupils were blown out, heaving and panting like dogs in heat. your fingers grew weak against his arms. “mm...ok, i’ll put the game down.”
7x7=49 walks in and genuinely mogs choso
i need to be reminded that im writing shitty fanfic for fun. and it doesn't need to be perfect and I don't need to worry about everyone seeing it and hating it and no super serious editor man is gonna read it and tell me my effort needs to be thrown away and it really doesn't have to even be good and it definitely doesn't have to bend over backward to avoid every cliche that exists................... it's easier said than done
i will draw women exclusively for the rest of my life cause why on earth would i draw a man
I genuinely cannot express how bad I need this woman (plss someone give me some good fanfics to read)
LIFE IS STRANGE (2015) ↳ dev. Dontnod Entertainment
he'll warm up soon it's okay