Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

she teases you

The Last Drop is crowded, dimly lit, the usual mix of smoke and spilled liquor thick in the air. You’re perched on a barstool, sipping your drink, when you feel it—a warm, familiar presence behind you.

Sevika doesn’t announce herself, doesn’t need to. The weight of her metal arm rests on the counter beside you, the scent of whiskey and something undeniably her wrapping around you.

She leans in, her breath ghosting against your ear, voice low and knowing. “You been starin’, sugar.”

Heat creeps up your neck. You haven’t—at least, not more than usual. Not more than anyone else does when she walks into a room like she owns it.

You roll your eyes, take another sip of your drink. “I have not.”

She chuckles, deep and amused, the sound vibrating through your spine as she moves even closer. “No? Thought I caught you eyein’ me like you wanna eat me alive.”

Your grip on the glass tightens. She’s doing this on purpose, dragging out each word just enough to make your stomach flip.

Her fingers trail along the back of your neck, slow, teasing, the callouses rough against your skin. It’s barely a touch, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

She notices. Of course she does. She always does.

“That’s cute, princess.” The smirk in her voice is undeniable. She’s enjoying this.

You huff, trying (and failing) to act unaffected. “You’re insufferable.”

She grins against your temple, presses a slow, deliberate kiss there. “Mm. And yet, here you are.”

You shove her lightly, but it only makes her laugh, her arm sliding around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Don’t pout, sugar. It’s adorable.” Her fingers tap against your ribs, playful, and you feel your resolve crack just a little.

You glare at her, but it’s weak, ruined by the way your lips twitch at the corners. “You’re the worst.”

She smirks, leans in like she’s about to kiss you, only to pull back at the last second. Just to watch you chase after it.

“Nah. I’m your worst.”