dreamscapefics-blog

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ARCANE, S02(E3-4)

| Sevika

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For all you horny toads

"Law and Desire" may have more than 2 parts lmao. Give me a day or two lol.

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Sevika: *walks into the house with a lump in her coat*

You: what are you hiding in your coat?

Sevika's coat: *meows*

Sevika: drugs

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Jinx: I dare you-

Sevika, casually, as she reads her book: my girlfriend is not allowed to accept dares.

Jinx: why not?

You, sadly: I have no regard for my own personal safety

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i love london

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When a fic doesn’t fit my head canons but it’s well-written

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salt and pepper haired butches please stay away from me i do NOT have enough clean underwear

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sweet dreams — part one

summary : your roommate sucks, but you sort of wanna fuck her, and that's just a terrible problem to have.

tags : nsfw! modern!au, sevika's huge butch cock, & mentions of masturbation.

wc : 1.1k

notes : for the precious anon that wanted more badroommate!sevika <3

Sevika was the worst roommate ever.

You’re going insane. You swear your lungs are turning black from all the second-hand smoke you’re inhaling. Sevika smokes inside the apartment constantly and she doesn’t listen to you when you yell at her to blow it out the window. You would really like your security deposit back, but at this point, you’re shit out of luck because the walls are definitely going to be stained yellow by the end of the lease.

You’re going insane. You get no sleep. She brings girls over every night and they’re always so damn loud when they’re going at it. You hate it. 

(“Oh Sevika!”

You’re on your stomach, biting into your pillow and trying to keep quiet as you rub furiously at your engorged clit. Unlike some people, you were considerate of the fact that your apartment had walls as thin as paper. Still, keeping quiet was difficult when your fingers felt so good against yourself.

“Fuck, you’re so big!”

You can’t help but whine at that. God, your mind drifts to Sevika, how insufferable she is and how deliciously her cock would fill you up. You’ve seen it, you work mornings and have seen the bulge she sports around in the early dawn when she’s half awake and still slightly hard from morning wood.

You think about how smug she would be, fucking you, how she could fold you in half and pound into you like you were meat and how you would thank her all the same. You think about how it would look to a third person, how her musclebound ass would clench with every thrust she makes into your cunt. You think about how you would come and whine for her to stop, saying it was too much and that you were too sensitive and how she would smirk and tell you that you could take more for her.

You think about Sevika, Sevika, Sevika. 

Your hips jerk sloppily to the rhythm of the fingers on your cunt. The noise it makes is delightfully sinful. You want Sevika to drink it all up, to tongue at it until you were writhing and screaming on her bed.

It isn’t long before you hear a moan that was louder than the rest and a low groan that definitely belonged to Sevika.

You come with them, your cunt squeezing and spasming against your hand. The orgasm has you struggling to breathe steadily as you flop onto your back. You’re too spent to get up to clean yourself, so you suck yourself off your fingers and wipe the spittle against your bedsheets. You let out a pleased sigh and fall headfirst into blissful sleep.

You can’t quite look Sevika in the eyes the next morning.)

You’re going insane. You’re annoyed all the time. She seemingly loves annoying the fuck of out of you because she teases you every time you walk out of your room. You’re trying to get used to it, the sexual innuendos (you always roll your eyes at those), the size jokes, (you’re really not that small, she’s just well built, alright?), and the fucking sex jokes, by god, the sex jokes at your expense. No, you aren’t a “prude,” you just… don’t have time for that.

(It started after the fifth girl she brought over. You confronted her, begged her to go to a damn hotel or something because it was getting ridiculous. You're probably only getting five hours of sleep a day and your clit really cannot take another night.

“I don’t really see the problem here,” she had said with her signature smirk.

“Sevika," you hissed, fuming, "You have these girls moaning like it’s their job!”

“Jealous?”

You had blushed at that and Sevika, observant as she was, did not miss the way your face turned tomato red.

“Wooow,” She draws the word out with the biggest grin on her face, amused to all hell, “you are!”

“Wh–” You wheezed, caught off guard, “No? I’m not!”

You sort of are. There’s no fucking way you’ll tell her that though.)

You’re going insane.

This woman is fucking insufferable. You wouldn’t really call yourself a petty woman per se, but Sevika makes you that kind of person. The idiot leaves her prosthetic arm everywhere around the apartment and it brings you immense satisfaction to hide it —  just to see how panicked she gets when she has to tear the entire place apart to find it.

You do not know how you were going to survive sexual frustration without fucking your roommate, which would be very, very bad. Or without going completely bald from the stress. Baldness would be preferable, honestly.

//

You sigh as you fumbled with the old front door knob to your shared apartment. You really don’t understand why the fuck your landlord refuses to just replace this ancient thing — the prongs of your keys get stuck in the eroded hole on a regular basis and it is a pain in the ass to wrestle it out without breaking the metal.

After ten straight minutes of struggle, you finally get the door open, only to get hit in the face with the strong odor of cigarillo smoke. Fucking god.

“Sevika!” You snarl, ready to yell at her.

The woman in question is sitting by the window, cigarillo in hand while actively blowing the fumes outside. You blink and look up and down at her. Sevika has seemingly dressed down for the night, wearing only an undershirt and loose sweatpants. The bulge between her crotch is deliciously highlighted by how she’s manspreaded across the loveseat. 

She raises her eyebrows up at you expectantly. You swallow, your throat suddenly desert dry. 

“…Hi.”

Sevika chuckles lowly at that, “hello.”

“I was—” you cough, “—I was going to yell at you for, uh… smoking inside.”

Sevika nods along slowly, like you were the crazy one here and she wasn’t the woman sitting in the living room with a hard on and blowing her cigarette smoke out the window for the first time in the three months you’ve lived here.

She uses her muscular arms to brace against the loveseat in order to sit up properly on the couch. The cigarillo looks delicate in her calloused hands. The movement highlights the muscles in her biceps and forearms, but it also jostles her cock, making you swallow harshly. She has to be doing this on purpose, you think.

“I’ll just—” you squeak out, gesturing awkwardly towards your bedroom, “I’m going to my bedroom now.”

Sevika smiles at that and brings a hand up to wave condescendingly at you.

“Sweet dreams.”

At that, you run to your room, slamming the door so hard the walls around seemed to vibrate. You slump against the door frame, horny and sweating.

What the fuck.

those that wanted to be tagged : @sevikalover824 ; @sevikaswife135 ; @djstinkyfartz ; @carotenoidstereo

[dreamscapefics-blog]

Title: Law and Desire

Grayson x Femme Reader

---

The cool steel of the cuffs snapped shut around your wrists with a decisive click.

"You never learn, do you?" Grayson's voice was low, edged with something between amusement and exasperation as she secured your hands behind your back. The Enforcer captain loomed over you, sharp blue eyes flickering with something unreadable beneath the dim streetlamps.

You huffed, rolling your shoulders against the restraint. "Oh, come on, Grayson. You don’t really want to do this."

Her grip on your arm tightened. "I warned you the last time, didn’t I?" She leaned in, her breath warm against the shell of your ear. "Told you next time, I wouldn’t be so lenient."

A shiver ran down your spine at her tone—firm, unyielding. It was the same voice she used when she ordered her men around, but there was something else lurking beneath it. Something just for you.

Your lips curled into a slow smirk. "I remember," you murmured, shifting just enough so your shoulder brushed against her chest. "I also remember how that last time ended."

Grayson exhaled sharply through her nose, her grip like iron around your wrists. "Don’t test me."

You turned your head slightly, catching the flicker of something dangerous in her gaze. "Why not? You always did like it when I pushed your buttons."

The muscle in her jaw ticked, her fingers flexing against your arm. You knew exactly what you were doing—poking at the embers of something long unresolved, something that had simmered between you for years.

"Careful," she murmured, her voice dipping into something lower, more dangerous. "You keep pushing, and I might start thinking you want to get locked up."

You licked your lips, tilting your head toward her. "Depends. Would you be the one guarding my cell?"

For a moment, she just stared at you, the weight of unsaid things hanging heavy between you. Then, suddenly, she spun you around, pressing you against the cold brick of the alley wall.

The air left your lungs in a sharp gasp as her body pinned yours, her knee slipping between your thighs, keeping you trapped.

"You really think you can tease me like this?" she murmured, her lips ghosting over your jaw. "That I’ll just let you get away with it?"

You sucked in a breath, your pulse hammering. "You never did like letting me go, Grayson."

Her fingers curled at your hip, pressing just hard enough to make you squirm. "No, I didn’t," she admitted, her voice husky. "And maybe this time, I won’t."

She was so close—so tempting. The familiar scent of whiskey and steel clung to her, a scent you knew all too well. A scent you had missed.

"I should throw you in a cell," she murmured, her lips barely brushing over the corner of your mouth. "Teach you some patience."

"Or," you whispered, shifting just enough to let your body align against hers, "you could take me somewhere more private and teach me properly."

Grayson exhaled, her breath shaky, but her hands never wavered.

"Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," she said, voice like gravel.

Your smirk widened. "Oh, I’m counting on it."

The corner of her mouth twitched—half amusement, half something darker. Then, with a sharp tug on the chain of your cuffs, she pulled you forward.

"Come on," she murmured. "Let’s finish what we started."

And this time, you knew neither of you would walk away unscathed.

---

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⋅˚.⋆☾⁺ SUPERCHARGED // g!psevika x reader

this is pure filth be advised. 18+ mdni, dirty talk, jealously, free-use reader, pet names, choking, dub-con, blood kink, dumbification, overstimulation, kinda made this with wolverine!sevika on my mind, but i kinda get carried away and it ended also being g!psevika, english is not my first language, any mistake i’m sorry in advance — literally 1.5k of porn without plot, reblogs, comments and likes are loved!

she has always been bad news.

her mechanic arm has no trouble in holding both hands behind your back, like you don’t already know she has triple the force you’ll ever have.

fucking show-off.

the room is hot, spinning around as your cheek is buried in the mattress, the cold surface of the unused red sheets as a throaty whine comes out of your mouth — “sev,” you breathe out like a curse, yet it’s not enough to make her stop nor listen to you — she’s pretty mad so you doubt she’s going to listen to any of your whimpers.

“ngh- sev,” you call her again, yet she’s grunting beneath you, always choosing rather a poor amount of words to communicate as lewd sounds fill the air everytime her cock slides inside of your drenched cunt. “fuck- baby please.”

you always give in in the end, as her flesh hand close around your waist to move you at her will against her hard dick. she’s been like that for a while, almost as a way to remind you who you belong to, to show everyone who you belong to.

she’s not really that jealous normally, but there was something with the way you leaned against the bar, short skirt raising to the point she could see your black underwear, a dumb-ass-limp-dick trying to get under your skin like she does, and it’s enough to make her leave the stool she’s in, cigarette on her lips as she drags her glass of whiskey to sit next to you, cold hand dragging the stool you’re seated in next to her side, making you sit between her open legs.

she always does that. play poker while you’re drinking happily in the bar, keeping an eye on you like a product she can use.

it’s all sevika needs to do, not even looking at the guy who’s so invested in talking to you that’s now turning his back around to leave you alone — who’s going to mess with what’s her’s anyway? nobody is that dumb to have a deathwish.

“you’re doing this on purpose, princess” she says, flesh hand squeezing your leg as she towers over you, her smell is strong as she blows the smoke of the tobacco in your face, nonchalant as ever when the flesh one is grabbing you by the jaw, making you look at her as her fingers dig on your skin like a reminder she owns you, that there’s no limit with her.

her claws are well hidden in the mechanic arm, yet you can feel them peeking out when she’s petting you like a fucking dog, the metal knifes against your skin, breaking the fabric of your dark blue skirt without caring who’s looking before saying — “move. let’s go.”

“sev-”

“i said move” she says, serious now — “or do you want me to fuck you right over this stool in front of the whole bar?”

a shiver goes down your spine at her words, and it explains soon after why you’re crashing her place, the messy interior of the room she’s staying that used to be silko’s place, the red sheets against your skin as her cock forces past your entrance without a previous warning, already leaking when she’s spanking you, full force as red marks appear in your butt-cheeks, making you open yourself for her.

fuck — she’s jealous. jealous as her hips piston against your ass, balls slapping against your clit as she becomes messy, messy fucker, messy eater, messy lover, fucking you cruelly as her metal arm reaches for a fistful of your hair just to pull your head backwards, presenting your ass like a fucking gift to her eyes only.

the smell of the smoke is on the air, the dim light of the tobacco consuming between her lips with each inhale she gives, and you swear, fucking swear you can feel her in your belly, the pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure as your face contorts in pleasure, pure need.

“such a good cocksleeve,” sevika groans, a smile of victory curving on her lips as she can feel you clenching around her cock, and god she can feel it all — the way your breathing becomes shallow, the whispers of need, the warmth of your pussy as the friction becomes unbearable. “gonna mould this pussy to the shape of my dick, what do you think of that, doll?”

“sev- i can’t- i can’t s’too much,” you whine sooner than later at the verge of tears, but its not enough to make her stop, to make her slow down, in all contrary, it only serves to make sevika pick up her pace, making you stand on your knees as she keeps you in the edge of the king sized bed, pumping her painfully hard cock behind you in a new position, starved as she bites you, marks on your shoulder when she’s close to reach her high. good fuck.

“you like to flirt in the bar huh? using this tiny shit you call a skirt- fucking take it like a big girl” her metal hand close against your throat to push her cold fingers right against your pulse point “you like being all needy?, asking for attention? fucking take my cock like you were begging for, whore. don’t be pathetic.”

the metal claws suddenly appears on your vision as she takes you by the waist, and the complex mechanism of her arm sounds each time she makes you move, vapor filling the air just slightly for a couple of seconds: you know what she’s doing.

the cold metal roams against your skin, trailing against your side cause she knows you love it quite a lot, that you’re a sick who loves the thrill of being hurt, the need of pain as she applies just enough pressure to make a small wound over your tight she’ll be taking care of later, making you shake as the blood drips down your tight to loose itself of her bed.

you’re a babbling mess and shit- she fucking loves it. she loves making you drunk on her cock, making you cry as thick tears leave your pretty eyes when the pleassure becomes unbearable, seeking out for more always greedy.

“atta girl,” she says, and her voice gives you goosebumps, the deep sound that comes from her chest when she’s laughing at you, half dizzy as she chokes you harder, making you lightheaded— “now you like it huh? wasnt it too much? filthy girl.”

“please- m’gonna cum” you beg, and she gets off from the sound of your strained voice, how you beg when her slightly curved dick rubs on your cervix, shoving her fingers inside your mouth just to muffle the sounds you are making.

“shut up,” she mutters, taking one of your legs in her arms to lift it in the air, angling herself better until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking when the orgasm pours over you; and sevika keeps on fucking you, even when you’re spasming over her dick, sucking her in — she cares about her release now, the load she discharges over your back, staining the fabric of your skirt as she keeps on stroking herself.

“no,” she warns you when your body becomes limp and you fall against the mattress, pulling you up again — “did i say we were going to stop? lift your ass up, doll. i’m cleaning up the mess you made.”

weird thing? you’re craving anything she can give you, so when her tongue is slipping between your soaked folds, she hums hungrily while you’re there, thinking that’s what heaven should feel like.

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ARCANE, S02(E2)

| Sevika

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Title: Possessive

Sevika x femme reader

The smell of something sweet lingered in the air, blending with the rich aroma of spice and seared meat. The tiny apartment was warm from the stove’s heat, and the golden light of the setting sun filtered through the old curtains. You stood at the kitchen counter, your sleeves rolled up, stirring a pot of stew with methodical precision.

Behind you, Sevika leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, an unmistakable scowl on her face.

“This again?” she grumbled.

You didn’t even turn around. “I told you, I needed flour.”

“We had flour.”

“It was old.”

“It was fine.”

You sighed, stirring a little harder than necessary. “Sevika, I’m not using flour that smells weird in my cooking. I ran to the market, I was gone maybe fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fifteen minutes where I didn’t know where the hell you were,” she snapped, pushing off the doorframe and stepping toward you. “Anything could’ve happened. You could’ve been robbed. Or worse.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was two blocks away. I think I can handle myself.”

Sevika exhaled sharply, running a hand down her face. She was still in her work clothes, the scent of smoke and metal clinging to her like a second skin. Her metal arm flexed, the plates shifting as her fist clenched.

“You don’t get it,” she muttered. “Every time you leave without telling me, I start thinking the worst. I can’t—” She cut herself off, jaw tightening.

You softened. You knew Sevika well enough to understand what she wasn’t saying. That she worried. That Zaun was dangerous. That she’d lost too many people before.

You turned, wooden spoon still in hand, and met her gaze. “I get it,” you said gently. “But I also need to be able to grab flour without causing an argument.”

Sevika took another step closer, her body pressing against yours. “I don’t like when people look at what’s mine.”

Heat flared in your chest. “Oh?” you mused, tilting your head up. “And who exactly was looking at me?”

She growled low in her throat. “Some bastard at the market. Didn’t like the way he was eyeing you.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smirk. “And what would you have done if you were there?”

Her hand shot out, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against her. Her metal fingers were cool, contrasting with the heat of her body. “I’d have made sure he knew who you belonged to.”

Your breath hitched. The air between you thickened, tension shifting from frustration to something else entirely.

Sevika’s lips brushed against your ear. “Maybe I should remind you now.”

The wooden spoon clattered to the counter as her mouth met yours, the argument forgotten, the heat between you turning into something far more intoxicating.

Dinner could wait.

---

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Title : Let’s Play

OC Characters

Older Butch x Homemaker Femme

Des had barely stepped through the front door before she smelled it—vanilla and cinnamon, warm sugar baking in the oven...

Her little brat had been busy.

She shook off her jacket, rolling her shoulders. The long day weighed heavy on her muscles, but the thought of her girl waiting inside sent a slow, easy smirk to her lips.

"Baby, I'm home," Des called, voice deep and rough from the cold.

Silence.

Then, the distinct clatter of dishes.

Des arched a brow. "Andy," she tried again, slower this time.

Still no answer.

Des exhaled through her nose, smirking. So this was the game they were playing.

She stepped into the kitchen, arms crossed. There, Andy stood in a little sundress—one of Des’s favorites—fluttering around the kitchen, pretending not to notice her.

The kitchen was a mess. Flour dusted the counters, cinnamon sprinkled in haphazard trails, and the sink overflowed with dishes.

Andy hummed to herself, opening the oven with a deliberate sway of her hips. "Oh, didn't hear you come in," she said innocently.

Des leaned against the doorway, watching. "Mm-hmm."

Andy peeked over her shoulder, big blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "You must be tired, Daddy. Long day?"

Des licked her lips, looking her up and down. "Long. And you’ve been real busy, I see."

Andy waved a flour-covered hand. "Oh, just baking for you, of course." She smiled mischievously.

Des stepped forward, slow and deliberate, boots clicking against the tile. "Really? That why you didn’t hear me calling for you?"

Andy bit her lip, eyes darting away. "Maybe I was... distracted."

Des crowded in behind her, big hands resting on the counter on either side of Andy’s waist. She leaned in, inhaling the scent of vanilla, sugar, and her girl’s perfume.

“You made a mess,” Des murmured, lips brushing against the curve of Andy's ear. “And you didn’t come greet me like a good girl.”

Andy's breath hitched, but she tilted her chin up, defiant. “I was busy, Daddy.”

Des’s fingers trailed up her arm, slow and teasing. “You want to say that again, sweetheart?”

Andy shivered. “I was busy.”

Des chuckled low, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. “Mm. Sounds like my little brat needs a reminder about manners.”

Andy barely had time to gasp before Des spun her around, lifting her onto the messy counter. Flour puffed into the air, cinnamon spilling onto Andy’s thighs, but Des didn’t care.

Her hands settled on either side of Andy’s hips, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles against the soft pale skin. “You gonna be good for me now, baby?”

Andy’s lips curled, still teasing, still testing. “Depends,” she whispered, dragging her fingers along the back of her neck.

Des grinned, tilting her head. “Oh, you really want to play tonight, huh?”

Andy nodded, all wide eyes and daring smirks.

Des leaned in, lips ghosting over hers. “Then let’s play.”

---

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would your dude get mad if he knew we were talking?

I don't know, but if he did, that sounds like a him problem. Lucky for me, I’m only into women. ;)