#caitlyn's cheekbones
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the urge to do a Caitlyn cosplay is so real but the time and money?!?!?!!? 🤧
#i haven’t made a cosplay since 2017#i miss it but i never have time#but the updated caitlyn lol outfit is calling to me#and wondercon is right around the corner and only an hour from me#agskflffjlrghf#i have the cheekbones for this i just need to bite the bullet 😤
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Idol in Hiding
Summary: A new gorgeous employee starts at a small pizza place. His boss is having a hard time keeping her thoughts innocent and he isn’t exactly helping.
Pairing: Lee Know and Original female character
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, cursing, angst
Word count: 14 K
Minho takes a deep breath as he looks up at the faded sign above the door. It didn’t really matter what the place was just as long as he could earn some money and learn the ropes of working in an American kitchen, without being recognized. Since the group decided to not renew their contracts 2 years ago and each member went their separate ways, him and Jeongin were the only ones that took the drastic step by moving to the states and going to university. He knew he was done with the life of an idol and just wanted a normal life away from the spotlight. He knew he wanted to be a chef and knew the only way to try and live a normal life was to move to the states and start fresh. Deciding to go to a university in middle America gave him the best chance.
He opens the glass door noting the smudges on the glass. Just smile and act normal, nobody will know and you can exist without the weight of being an ex idol holding him back.
*************************************
“His name is Lino?” Devantrea asks with a grin.
“I don’t know, I haven’t really had a chance to look over his application yet….” I glance at the papers in front of me.
“Whoa! His last job was in Korea, I wonder how long he has been in the US?”
Devantrea snatches the papers from my hands, laughing
“Hey I need to look those over, he is going to be here any minute” I cry out while trying to grab the papers that he was holding above his head.
“Too bad you should have read them already Miss GM…you gotta be ready for this stuff” He laughs out.
“Hey you two!” Stephanie calls out from across the restaurant where she is attempting to vacuum the French fries that a kid had thrown on the floor just 30 minutes ago.
“I know I am just teasing her, Steph…its not my fault she is short” Devantrea quips while handing me back the application. I roll my eyes and read through the application.
“He actually does have quite a bit of experience in a kitchen, although it was in Korea, it’s still experience”
Devantrea nods as we hear the door opening.
All three of us look up to see an absolutely breathtaking man walk through the doors. He literally looked like he just stepped off the set of a K drama.
No way! That is not our guy? There is no way this man would want to work in some dingy pizza place.
I watch, trying to hold my jaw closed as this beautiful man walks up to the bar that I am standing behind. I look over at Devantrea who is looking about as dumbfounded as me.
“Excuse me, I am here for an interview…I am not sure who the name of the person I am interviewing with” K drama says with a bright smile. His accent is apparent, but not hard to understand.
I nod and smile, trying to gather myself. “That’s me, I am the general manager, my name is Caitlyn, but you can call me Cat”? he bows slightly and holds his hand out to shake mine. His hands are warm and rough, like maybe he has worked with his hands before.
“Oh um this is the kitchen manager Devantrea, he will be joining us” I add trying to stop myself from blushing.
“Nice to meet you… Lino is it?” Devantrea asks
He smiles the most beautiful smile I have ever seen reaching all the way to his eyes. It was slightly askew, but beautiful.
I didn’t care what his name is, he was K drama in my mind. That man was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t believe how flawless this man looked. His almond shaped amber eyes sparkled. With his high cheekbones and full lips, I was convinced that he was some actor sent here from Korea to research some part in a new drama or running from some scandal.
“Lets all go sit over here in one of our tall tops…follow me” Devantrea said while eyeing me suspiciously. I felt my cheeks grow hot, realizing I was lost in my own thoughts and forgot that I was supposed to be in charge.
“Yes lets, thank you Devantrea” I call out as I make my way from behind the bar.
We take a seat at the tall top closest to the window. I was now face to face with K drama and at a loss for words. I just couldn’t believe that this man actually wanted a job here.
He sat down appearing very relaxed, he had a soft smile on his face and his eyes were sparkling, like he knew I was a little bit flustered and was amused by it.
“So what made you want to work at a pizza place, Lino” Devantrea asks his tone serious.
“Well I am going to university for business and hotel/restaurant management. I want to get a feel for how American restaurants work, because it is my dream to open a Korean restaurant in the United States” Lino says confidently, not breaking eye contact with Devantrea.
“So your from Korea?” I say quickly and then realizing that his whole damn application was Korean restaurants in Korea, I not only made myself sound incompetent but also stupid. My face turned bright red and I felt Devantrea kick me gently under the table.
I realize I need to get it together and interview this guy. He is just a student that is studying business who happens to look like a damn model. I glance down at his application and realize he is thirty years old, but looks 22! I guess its never to late to get an education or possibly run to the US because of a scandal.
I clear my throat. “Ok can you expand a little bit on what you did at your past restaurants?” Lino turns his flawless face to me and smiles, I swear if I was standing, my knees would have buckled. I quickly compose myself and try to maintain normal, not creepy eye contact while he tells us about his past restaurant experience. I nod along and ask questions, trying to get a sense of why he would choose a little pizza joint instead of a chain or corporate restaurant. Devantrea must have been thinking the same thing since the next question he asked was why he didn’t choose a bigger restaurant. Lino explained that he wanted to start smaller, so he could learn more and not feel overwhelmed.
Ok that made sense!
Devantrea gives me a nudge under the table indicating to me that he approves and wants to hire him.
I turn and smile at Devantrea and then turn to Lino giving him a bright smile. “Ok Lino, you sound like you would be a great fit and we would like to offer you the job”
His face lights up and he reaches out to shake both of our hands. “Thank you so much! I feel like this is going to be a great experience, when do you want me to start?”
He was so enthusiastic about the job, it made my brain go back to my original theory that he is definitely running from some crazy scandal
We went over his availability and gathered his paperwork to take copies for the accountant. Since he has a student visa there was some different paperwork that I was not familiar with so I just took copies of everything, secretly hoping there wouldn’t be any issues to cause him to not be able to work here.
“So I think that Parker or Rex would be the best ones to train, they are both senior cooks and great on the pizza stations, so how about starting this weekend? Devantrea was speaking to both of us and I add “Yes, Parker can do the night training and Rex the afternoon training, I think we should start out in the afternoon, it isn’t as hectic as night shift is”
“I agree” Devantrea replies. He looks at Lino who is still beaming, “You good with starting Saturday morning? You can come in and help with prep, learn the layout and maybe make a few pizzas?”
“Yes! That works great! Lino exclaims.
**************************************
As they walk him out Minho couldn’t help but be intrigued with the beautiful GM that just interviewed him. Even though the guy did most of the talking, Minho couldn’t help but keep glancing at Cat throughout the whole interview, he was sure she noticed because she seemed to be getting a little flustered. Since being in the US he hadn’t thought much about dating or women in general, intent on focusing on getting through school, but this woman definitely caught his eye. She had to only be about 5 foot 4 inches, but carried herself like she was 6 foot, she had a confident, yet soft demeanor and she had the biggest blue eyes he has ever seen.
With a confident stride he makes his way back to his car, feeling much better about his situation. He is sure that this will be exactly what he needs to help him start fresh
**************************************
Once back inside Devantrea turns to me, “What the hell Cat! You looked like you were about to pass out the whole time”
“Did you see that beautiful man that we just interviewed?” I exclaim. Devantrea makes a face. “Ok…he is a bit of pretty boy….”
“No Devantrea! He looks like a K drama star! I yell
“What’s a K drama? He asks with a sour face.
Stephanie hears us and comes out of the kitchen. “Girl you are in trouble! He looks like one of those men you are always drooling over from those shows you watch” She laughs as she continues wiping down the bar.
“Wait wait, Cat is this going to be a problem?” Devantrea asks his tone serious.
“No no way! I am a professional, he is just really good looking that’s all, he will be nice to look at” I say with confidence even though I slowly realize I am going to be that beautiful man’s boss and I start to feel a little regret. Did I hire him because of his looks? Devantrea wanted to hire him too and its not like he isn’t qualified, actually he may be overqualified.
“Cat you are going to be his boss though….there isn’t going to be any issues?” Stephanie asks with a hint of a smile.
“You two are not serious right? You have known me for what 5 years, have I ever had an issue with inappropriate relationships here?”
“I know honey, we are just teasing you…it will be fine” Stephanie adds with a small smile.
“Yeah and if there is anything going on, I will just fire him and then problem solved” Devantrea says with a laugh.
My heart drops. I actually do feel a bit of regret. Is there going to be a problem, will I favor him? Will I be able to treat him like the rest of the crew? Will I pass out if I have to be next to him? I have never had an issue in all the years I was assistant manager or this last year of being general manager and I had no plans of starting now, so yeah I am good nothing is going to happen.
Even with all the big talk about not having issues I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of danger lurking around the corner, like I might be in for something I cannot be handle.
Part of me had a feeling that he wasn’t exactly who he said he was. I knew I should probably just leave it alone, but curiosity over ruled and I decided to do a little digging.
***************************************
One month later…..
I had known Lino’s identity for almost a month now and have been letting little hints slip, seeing if he would crack and tell me himself. I did feel some guilt, I am sure he chose to move to the US and basically create a new life for a reason. He probably doesn’t want people to know who he really is otherwise they may treat him differently or at worst stalk or hurt him. Another part of me, the selfish part felt some sort of thrill knowing who is when nobody else does. I also haven’t sat down to talk to him about it, because to be honest, that man intimidates the hell out of me. He also shamelessly flirts with me which baffles me, why would that gorgeous man want to flirt with me? The worst is that I have caught myself flirting back.
This could cost me my job if I don’t get it together.
Of course he fit right in, he was quiet but would still joke around with the other kitchen staff, he did a great job and was a fast learner. I mean with the life that he led, learning to make some pizzas was probably the easiest thing he has ever done. All the staff liked working with him and didn’t have any complaints.
Once I found out who he really was, I watched video after video and soon my little crush grew into some intense desire. The thing is, being around him I can tell he feels the same way, which again baffles me. The tension between us is palpable and I am positive other people are starting to notice.
On a random Wednesday I decide today is the day. I am going to get him to tell me his real identity.
I walk into the kitchen and stand next to him.
***************************************
Minho was mindlessly making pizzas, since it was a slow night he let his mind wander. Cat has been acting odd towards him the last month. We always flirt back and forth, but it always stops before anything gets weird or intense, she has made it known that her job is important to her and that she will not jeopardize it for anyone. Its also not like either of us has actually came out and said, “Hey wanna fuck?” But the tension has definitely been building and sometimes it is hard to concentrate when she is close and he isn’t going to deny that the desire to bend her over the pizza table and find out what pretty sounds she can make hasn’t crossed his mind.
He is snapped back to reality when he smells her perfume and feels her standing next to him.
“So I was watching one of my Korean dramas last night and this song came on at the end”
Minho nods. She has talked about how she enjoys Kdramas. He wasn’t too worried that she would find out his identity through those since he didn’t really have any connection to acting.
“I thought the song was pretty good, so I went on YouTube to see if I could find it and I started getting all these kpop songs in my recommended”
Minho nods, but no other reaction
“The music is actually pretty good! I was surprised I just assumed it was just like Korean Backstreet Boys, ya know”
That made him flinch a bit
Shit! Has she figured it out? Did she stumble across a picture of him, although he had cut his hair and bulked up a bit, if you were looking you could definitely tell who he was and also “Korean Backstreet Boys” what the fuck!
“I was wrong though…there is pretty great rapping and the music gets you like pumped up…not to mention the dancing oh my god!” I open up my phone and connect my Bluetooth to the speaker. “Also some songs are…..like sexual, but not in an obvious way”
Minho gulps. “Yeah a lot of kpop doesn’t openly have sexual lyrics….but yeah some of it can be”.
What is she getting at?
“Have you ever heard this song?” I ask him. I start playing Taste. “I am pretty sure this song is about sex!” I laugh “I also cannot figure out if he is saying “Don’t make me beg or Don’t make me bad” .
He stops and lays the sauce spoon down as he hears his voice playing loudly through the kitchen. She is hinting at something and he can slowly feel his ears get hot.
“Can I talk to you…privately Cat?” He says softly with a hint of a smirk.
I started feeling immediate regret. Fuck I should have just asked him, why did I need to go so far? Now I felt bad. what if I was wrong? What if I have been delusional this whole time and I just made him uncomfortable? I started doubting myself thinking that I wanted it to be true so badly that I made myself believe that he was some famous kpop idol.
“Oh uh of course…we can go to the office” I stammer out.
I watch as he starts walking out of the kitchen towards the office. I look at Parker, my eyes wide and he just shrugs his shoulders.
I follow along behind as he leads the way to my office. I couldn’t read his reaction. Was he embarrassed, or angry or was he just playing along to make me squirm?
*************************************
As he was leading the way to her office he was trying to decide how to play this. Should he just come out and ask or should he deny it and tell her she is crazy. He knew he needed to remain confident not letting her know that she had gotten to him. He decides to take a seat in her chair, giving off the impression that he holds the power and not her, knock her off her game, since she decided to almost out him to the entire kitchen staff.
He walks straight into my office and immediately sits in my chair as I stand awkwardly staring at him. I had no idea what to say. He was staring at me, his eyes squinted and his mouth a thin line.
“When did you figure it out Cat?” He says quietly
“About a month ago….” I reply my eyes downcast
“And instead of just pulling me aside and asking you decide to play one of my songs and ask if it is about sex?” He says while crossing his arms across his chest.
I could actually hear a bit of smile in his voice, so I lift my eyes. “Blowjobs specifically” I say quickly, my eyes not leaving his. I could feel the tension between us, so thick. His eyes were burning into me and this time I wasn’t relenting.
What was I doing? The power shift between us had thrown me for a loop and I could feel my entire body on fire. Our eyes unmoving from each other like we could both see what the other wanted, but still unwilling to give in. I could feel the coiling of desire in the pit of my stomach. I wanted him, I wanted him so fucking bad and I knew he was feeling it too.
“We need to sit down and talk…not at work….there are some things we need to discuss” he says firmly
“Yeah I guess we do” I whisper
He stands up slowly and moves to stand in front of me. I could feel the heat of his body and I was trembling.
“Lets go get a drink tonight?” he asks.
I nod.
“Its make me bad, by the way….but it does sound like I am singing make me beg, doesn’t it?” He smiles as he opens the door and walks out.
**************************************
Minho lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he shuts the door leaving you in the office . Fuck! He couldn’t decide whether he was angry that you didn’t just ask him who he was or if that scene in the office that made his dick hard under his chefs pants, just made him so flustered that he was angry. Either way, he was going to play it like it didn’t get to him, that the desire to push you against the desk and kiss you until you couldn’t remember his name consumed him and walking out of that office was one of the hardest things he had done. The fact that he knows you feel the same makes his dick even harder.
*************************************
I made it through the rest of work in a daze. My nerves frazzled. Not sure what his reaction meant. He seemed like he was playing with me, sitting in my chair, like a power play letting me know that what I found out did not bother him. When he looked at me with those eyes and full lips all I could think about is those lips on mine, his hands all over my body taking whatever he wants. I know he knows that, he knows that it takes everything in me to not give in and he relishes in it.
At close I went into the kitchen to check out all the stations. I meticulously checked each station purposely avoiding his station, not ready to face the tension and look into his eyes, but there he was leaning against the pizza station scrolling through his phone acting as if that scene in the office never happened. When he saw me he looked up and gave me a dazzling smile making my knees weak.
“I am all done boss, everything look good?” He says while grabbing his backpack and starts rummaging through it.I look around and see that everything was in order.
“Yep you are good” he nods and continues looking through his back pack. I check everyone else out and they start filing out of the kitchen. He is holding back, I know he is waiting for the others to leave before he approaches me. I stop to grab a few things that need to go back to the office and I feel him behind me.
**************************************
As she is checking all the other stations out he decides to play with her a little more once everyone else had left. He walks up behind her, making sure she knows that he is there, but not actually touching her. He wants to make her squirm, make her realize how badly she wants him.
“There is a bar up the street…its quiet we can meet there” he whispers, still standing behind me, I can feel his breath on the back of my ear, causing me to shiver. I swallow and nod slowly.
“See you there” he says while pivoting around me and tossing his backpack over his shoulder.
**************************************
I walk into the dimly lit bar and see him immediately, sitting by himself at a table in the corner. He has a drink in front of of him and is reading the menu. I take a deep breath and walk over to the table and sit down without saying a word. He looks up and flashes that smile.
“Hi boss” he says
“Ok enough of that, we are not at work” I scoff. He smiles and sets the menu down and leans forward on his elbows.
“Ask me anything I know you have questions” he says, his look turning serious.
I take a deep breath ready to just let out all the information I had found out, leaving out the details about how watching him dance did something to you, made you shiver thinking about how he would feel against your body. How those hips could grind against you or how his thighs would feel between your legs.
“So your name is Lee Minho, stage name Lee Know and you were the dance leader and a vocalist for the Stray Kids?” I say matter of factly
He nods. “How did you figure it out?”
“Honestly it wasn’t that difficult. When I first hired you I couldn’t believe someone that looks like you would want to work at some little pizza place and then when you said you were going to university, my first thought was 30 is late to start college, I had some theories and I started to do some research”
“What were your theories?” he says, scooting closer a mischievous smile on his handsome face.
“Well at first I thought you were some K drama actor who came to the United States to flee from some scandal….I watch a lot of dramas so I started going through You Tube and google trying to find something, but nothing turned up”
He is smiling. “So that’s why everybody started calling me Kdrama as a nickname?”
I blush. “I just told people you look like a K drama actor and I guess they just went with it and then you started answering to it…so I guess it stuck”
“Go on” He continues with a playful smile.
“I was researching so much stuff on kdramas that I started getting stuff about kpop on my recommended on you tube so I put the name you gave us and kpop in google and there was your face obviously with a different name, but sounds the same…..I did quite of bit of digging because I didn’t think that this could actually be possible, but the more I watched the videos and all the you tube stuff of you talking, walking, your mannerisms I was about 99 percent sure. Then I looked up information on stray kids and all the members were accounted for except for you and one other member, it said there was rumors that you had moved to America or Australia….I just put it all together”
He was listening intensely, not interrupting and he had an amused look on his face.
“Ok well it sounds like you are quite the detective, I knew there would be a possibility of my identity being found out and I told myself I would deal with it when it happened. You need to promise that you will not tell anyone, I am enjoying my life right now” His voice sounding sad. But he quickly shakes his head and with a smile asks “What do you want to drink?” And motions for the server to come over.
The server basically runs over to our table. I noticed that she had been staring at him for the last few minutes. She starts smiling and fawning over him. I internally roll my eyes, but I understand he is drop dead gorgeous and has charisma and confidence, its hard to not be attracted to him. I feel a pang of jealousy when he starts flirting back with her, telling her he likes her earrings.
**************************************
Minho knew that flirting with the server would get Cat flustered and he glanced over to her while talking to the server and notices the soft blush on her cheeks and the glint of jealousy in her eyes. Seeing her like that sent him over the edge, how beautiful she looked when she was angry, but trying so hard to hide it. He wanted to see that pretty pink blush on her cheeks as he has her laid out in his bed, kissing every inch of her making her moan his name.
“So….what do you want to drink?” He smirks as if he knows that I was a little jealous at the attention he was giving the server.
“I am good” I say curtly.
He frowns. “Come on Cat you have to have at least one drink with me”
The server is looking down at me, I could see the annoyance in her eyes and I have to admit it felt pretty damn good to know that I am the one sitting here with literally the most gorgeous man in the room.
“Fine, dirty grey goose martini, three olives” I say with a smug smile.
She glances one more time at Minho as he raises his glass indicating he wants another one, she huffs turning and walking back to the bar.
“You fucking love the attention? You know they are all looking at you, flirting with you” I say while shaking my head in disbelief.
“Of course I do” he says while taking a sip of his drink. “I was an idol for years, I sometimes miss the attention”
“So why did you…just leave?”
“That…is a long story for another time, but I promise I will tell you all about it someday” He finishes his drink as the server brings our next round, all but slamming it down in front of me. I giggle a little as she walks away.
We sit and chat for a little while, sipping at our drinks. We don’t talk about anything important, I got the feeling he didn’t really want to talk about his past with me yet, so he asked me a lot of questions about my career.
After our drinks were almost empty he hits me with “Why don’t we go back to my place, we can finish talking”
“Uh you know that is not a good idea”
“Oh come on Cat! You found out who I really am…..you still don’t want me? I am getting impatient since I know you feel the same” He adds a little pout at the end of his sentence
Taken aback from his bluntness. “What? Lino of course I cannot be interested in you I am your boss…it’s inappropriate, I could lose my job”
“Your not interested at all?…. nobody will have to know” he says with a coy smile. That pretty pink blush had covered her whole face, he could practically feel the neediness radiating off of her, but still she holds back.
Fuck! His words go straight to my core. I was on the verge of quitting my job and just letting him have his way with me. Seeing him dance in the videos had me feeling something and if I didn’t have any will power at all I would have fucked that man a month ago.
He sighs deeply. “Ok fine, it can be completely innocent, I enjoy talking with you. I know you have more questions and I want to know more about you, plus you can meet my bratty roommate”
Should I? he had me questioning everything. Could I just go hang out with him in his apartment with him and his roommate and not have anything happen?
“Does…your roommate know who you are?” I ask shyly
His face lights up and he rolls his eyes a little. “Of course he does…my roommate is Jeongin”
“Oh” I say flatly
“Come on…you will love him, he is a fucking brat, but is super sweet and he already knows about you”
My mind keeps telling me no, this is not a good idea at all, but the thought of meeting the maknae who was honestly also gorgeous from the videos I watched. Also, I did really enjoy talking to him, the conversation flowed and it felt comfortable. I was also still curious and wanted to know more.
In my heart I knew this probably wasn’t going to be a good idea, but my body had me convinced and it was beginning to become very hard to resist what my body was telling me.
I sigh and I see him smile, knowing he has me convinced.
“Fine, but we are just going to talk and chill nothing else” I say
He puts his hands up. “Absolutely, I will in no way try to seduce you”
“I am serious, you could cost me my job” I say trying my best to look convincing
“Ok Ok I pinky promise” he holds out his pinky, grabbing my hand and forcing me to pinky promise him. I shake my head and laugh. “Ok give me your address” I grab my drink and quickly gulp it down, liquid courage I told myself.
My heart is racing as I set his address into my gps, my hands were shaking so bad that I had to type in the numbers three times before I got it right.
What was I doing?
I knew there was no way I would be able to stop if he starts something, my panties were already wet with just the thought of him and I knew if he touched me I would be a goner. Part of me thought, Ill just text him and tell him I changed my mind and it wasn’t a good idea, but a bigger part of me, obviously the horny and needy part of me told me to just go and deal with the consequences later. Of course that part won as I started pulling out of the parking lot heading in the direction of his apartment.
**************************************
Minho couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he quickly sent Jeongin a text letting him know they were having company and to be decent when they arrived. He responded with a thumbs up and that didn’t give him much hope, Jeongin had assimilated well into American society and has found a new hobby in video games and sex. Even though Minho isn’t an idol anymore he still tries to keep his body fit and still found time to dance, he didn’t want to lose that part of himself completely. Jeongin on the other hand although, still keeping his body fit he uses it to fuck anything with a pussy or an ass, he is not picky. He said that as an idol he never had the freedom to do what he wanted, so he is making up for lost time.
Minho will admit, Jeongin is sexy as fuck and knows how to flirt and get what he wants, he can definitely see why he has so much success in that department. Jeongin has offered to help Minho get laid, but up until now he hadn’t really had much desire, and of course Minho had plenty of girls he has slept with over the years in secret when he was an idol and of course the experimenting the group members they had all done over the years of training to let off some steam.
Jeongin was always there for him when Minho felt lonely and needy, many nights Jeongin letting Minho fuck him into the mattress always being so good for him, but Minho knew that him and jeongin were not a couple and never could be. Jeongin is in his playboy phase and wants to have fun, Minho wanting more and trying to find a intimate connection with someone.
He pulls into his parking lot, locking his car and walking up to your car with a smile on his face. You step out of your vehicle, still apprehensive about where this night is heading, your brain is clouded with curiosity and lust. You follow Minho as he leads you into the impressive apartment complex, you figure he still got that idol money. As you enter the elevator and Minho is telling you about his roommate, but your not really listening cause your brain is roaring with nerves and you cannot focus on anything except the fact that you are really going into this beautiful man’s apartment and absolutely nothing sexual can happen even though you know you both really want it to.
**************************************
Minho leads the way to his door and makes quick work of unlocking it, he steps inside and moves over gesturing with his hand to come in. You watch as he takes his shoes off and you realize that’s what you need to do also, you toe your shoes off and scoot them next to his on the mat. You are trying to focus on all of the little things, take shoes off, take coat off, hang on hook so you don’t have to look up at Minho who you know is staring at you and then you will have to think about the next step. Are we going into his room? Is is going to offer me alcohol? I can’t get drunk, Ill do something stupid. Your brain is malfunctioning and your hands are shaking. You finally get up the courage to look at Minho who is standing there with a soft smile of his face almost like he is amused by your emotional state right now. Is he going through the same thing I am right now? Is he just hiding it better?
“You want to meet my roommate? He says while turning towards the living room. You could hear the sound of a television, maybe a video game. You follow quietly as you hear Minho yell out something in Korean, you are taken aback for a second since you had yet to hear him speak in his native language in person, you almost forgot that he is in fact Korean and are also a bit surprised and embarrassed about how your body responded to his voice and the language. You would have never guessed that hearing his voice speak in his native tongue would make you feel even needier than you already felt. You had heard of people having voice or language kinks, but you never understood it until this very moment.
With your face red you follow him into the living room where another beautiful man was standing shirtless with almost a full sleeve of tattoos and just loose shorts on holding a game controller, his black hair pulled back into a short ponytail.
“Jeongin! I told you to be decent” Minho yells at the other man.
“I did…I put pants on” Jeongin responds as he turns to look at us, his face breaking out into a smile that reached his beautiful fox like eyes.
“Well Hello there, Min didn’t tell me that you were this pretty” he says with a wink. I of course blush, even though I didn’t think my face could possibly get any redder.
“Ok Innie chill out” Minho huffs. “Come on we can go in my room, do you want something to drink?” He looks to me smiling sweetly.
“Uh um do you think that’s a good idea?” I ask still very unsure of myself and the situation I had gotten myself into.
“You kids be good, keep the door open” Jeongin laughs. He had a cute giggle.
“Yeah yeah it will be fine, I promise Ill keep my hands to myself” Minho smirks as he motions for me to follow him.
My body follows him before my brain could react. Shit! If I don’t start thinking before I act this is not going to end well. I need to get it together otherwise I will let this man do whatever the hell he wants and if the other beautiful man wants to join I’d let him.
I was fucked.
**************************************
Minho smiles to himself as he leads her to his room. He promised he wouldn’t try anything, but his fingers were crossed in his mind. He knows she wants him as bad as he does, he just needs to convince her brain.
We enter his room, it is clean and tidy. He has some pictures hanging up so I walk over to examine them, trying so hard to not sit on his bed like I know he is going to ask. There were a mixture of obvious professional group pictures and some more casual pictures that probably one of the group members took. They were all so beautiful, it was crazy that there could be so many beautiful, sexy talented men in one group. They were all literally flawless, even in the amateur photos.
“Do you want to sit down” Minho asks while taking a seat on the bed.
“Nope” I say quickly and he huffs out a laugh, a laugh I recognize from some of the interviews and clips I watched.
“Ok well just stand there and look at the pictures then, I am going to get us something to drink….I have vodka I don’t know how to make a martini, but I can make a mean vodka orange juice” He quirks his eyebrow with a smile.
Oh he thinks he is so cute. Trying so hard to get my guard down, so he can swoop in and get me naked. Not gonna happen.
I am in control of this, I can control myself.
Minho could tell she was unsure. He needed to reassure her, make her feel comfortable. He really didn’t want her to leave so in order to get her to stay he was going to have to take a step back. He walks out to the kitchen to make the drinks.
Jeongin playing his game looks up “How’s it going Hyung….that was quick” He laughs his fox eyes twinkling.
“Shut it, its not like that…” Minho responds while pouring the drinks.
“Oh ok sure Hyung” Jeongin rolls his eyes and returns his attention back to his game.
Fucking brat. Minho walks back into the room and is happy to see that Cat had finally sat down, but she had her arms crossed in front of her, looking very stiff and kind of scared. Poor thing.
*************************************
Since Minho was out in the kitchen I realized that I am an adult and standing around trying to avoid him is not going to work. I am going to have to work through these inappropriate thoughts, because I still have to work with him.
He has a smile on his face when his walks in, holding two drinks in his hands. He hands me one and sits down on the bed, actually sitting farther away than what I thought he would. Maybe he is trying to play the long game. I take a sip of the drink he handed to me and was surprised it actually tasted nice, not too strong.
“Listen Cat, I am not going to try anything, you have made it very clear that your job is important to you and you don’t want to jeopardize that so I promise I will keep my distance and we can just talk, ok” He turns towards me, sitting fully on the bed with his legs crossed and I won’t lie it was difficult to not look at his thick thighs.
I nod and take a deep breath. “Ok Lino…” I say then trail off not knowing what to say next.
“When we aren’t at work you can call me Minho, Lino sounds too much like my stage name” He says with a smile
“So did you pick the name Lino?” I ask.
“Well kind of” He says scooting a little closer to me. It was fine, he was still keeping his distance.
After I started asking him questions about his life and career, the conversation flowed very easily. We were laughing and I didn’t even notice that he was sitting much closer, his knee almost touching mine. He was funny and had so many stories from his time as an idol and about the other group members. Some of the stories from his days as a trainee were actually heartbreaking. When he told the story about him being eliminated I was almost in tears and made a mental note to watch the clip later.
It was fun talking to Cat. She was sweet, but so sure of herself. He found himself scooting a little closer to her, but she didn’t seem to mind, he wasn’t even sure she noticed. He wanted so badly to be close to her, to touch her but she was still keeping her distance.
“You used to flirt with me all the time before you knew who I was, what changed?” Minho decided to just ask her.
I took a deep breath. Fuck here we go. “I don’t know why I was flirting, I shouldn’t have been, but it was hard, I mean I am attracted to you, I was before I knew and even more afterwards. I couldn’t believe a man that looks like you was interested in me” I finish and gulp down the rest of my second vodka orange juice and I could definitely feel the warmth of the liquor make its way to my brain.
“I am sorry for putting you in that position Cat and what do you mean someone like you? You are sexy and confident, its crazy attractive” He says while his eyes roam over my body.
I felt hot under his gaze, he was looking at me with such lust it was hard to not just jump in his lap and shove my tongue down his damn throat.
No! I was an adult and I was in control, but the boozy part of my brain was telling me that nobody has to know, we could easily sleep together and nobody would be none the wiser.
“Cat….you want another drink?” He asks taking the empty glass from my hand.
“Uh no where is your bathroom?” I blurt out, needing to get out the room, the tension is stifling. Everything was fine 20 minutes ago, we were talking, hanging out and then all that damn sexual tension happened again.
“Oh yeah its right out the door to your left” he says with a little half smirk
I jump up way too quickly, but pull myself together and walk to the bathroom. Once inside I stare at myself in the mirror. What are you doing? This is going to end badly, just leave, tell him the vodka is making you sick. Just come up with an excuse and leave. Of course my brain has almost totally shut off at this point and I let my body lead me out of the bathroom.
I open the door to the room and am met with Minho in a black tank top, he had obviously just taken off his hoody, but fuck. He was putting some clothes away so he didn’t turn to me right away. I just stood there watching him move, his arm muscles flexing. The tank top was stretched over his pecs. He had a few tattoos also, it looked like one on each of his biceps and one on his shoulder blade. He looked divine, like sex itself and it was then that I knew I was fucked.
I was most certainly not in control of this and I am most certainly not going to be able to control myself.
I had to stay now, I had to feel what his body felt like, I needed to hear his voice in my ear coaxing me to cum for him. I wanted his hands everywhere. He turns to look at me standing in the doorway my eyes probably glazed over.
“Hey” he says simply and he smiles a knowing smile. He knew he had me now.
“Hey” I breathe out. “You um lost your shirt” My voice was almost whiny at this point.
“Yeah I was hot” He says, still staring at me, a half smirk on his pretty face.
“I thought you didn’t show skin” I said not even sure what I was saying at this point.
He chuckles, that laugh that I was really starting to like. “Yeah, maybe”
“You coming back in?” He asks standing up straight holding his hand out to me. Then he gives me a direction in Korean and I swear my mind short circuits a little.
“What” I gasp
Now he almost laughs out loud. “You didn’t think I didn’t notice how you reacted when I spoke to Jeongin, it’s a voice kink a lot of people have it.” He is teasing now, but I felt hot all over, I could feel the wetness in my panties. What the fuck is happening to me, he like a drug that I am being peer pressured to try. But I want it so bad, I can literally feel it in my throbbing core.
“I-I don’t think I have that” I say, knowing I sound so stupid and I am literally trying everything to not rip the rest of his clothes off.
He walks closer to me. “Yeah, maybe…but I think I told you to shut the door” He says with a smirk.
I tilt my head in confusion. “You did?”
He quirks his eyebrow, “Yeah….”
“Oh” is all I could muster. I felt like I might faint, I was so hot all my nerves were on fire. I felt like one touch from this man in the right place I would be cumming harder than I have in my life.
“Now shut the door and come here” he says firmly.
And I do. I close the door, sealing my fate. I just stand there, not knowing what to do, where to put my hands except on him. He walks over to me, putting one arm on the wall next to me, almost caging me in but he still left an opening on the other side, but I wasn’t going to take it. I was in now, my decision was made, but it couldn’t hurt to not let him know that I wasn’t completely convinced.
He tilts his head and leans down. his lips are so close now, all I had to do was lean forward and our lips would be touching. Instead he turns his head and places a kiss on my neck, running his other hand down my arm, causing goosebumps to form.
I let out a shaky breath as he pulls back. “Tell me to stop and I will” he murmurs then leans forward again, hovering over my lips again, his eyes searching mine his lips parted. His pupils are blown and there is a hunger in his eyes. He slowly leans in and kisses me on the lips and I felt like my whole body was a live wire. He pulls back slowly, but I close the gap again and kiss him letting my tongue lick along the seam of his lips, he lets me in tilting his head deepening the kiss. I moan softly as I feel his hand squeeze my waist.
He pulls back and rests his forehead on mine, I am almost breathless at this point.
He smiles. “Finally….you really made me work for that”
“I could stop it all right now” I breath out unconvincingly
“Do you want to stop” his lips ghost over my neck again and I couldn’t help the gasp I let out, shutting my eyes as his lips roam over my exposed neck.
“All those pretty sounds your making……doesn’t sound like you want me to stop” he says and I can feel him smile against my skin.
I hear him whispering to me again in Korean, making my breath hitch and my chest heave. How the fuck is this having this kind of effect on me? I could not wrap my head around it at all. He could literally be reciting his grocery list and I would not have a clue and it wouldn’t matter his voice sounded so smooth and silky causing goosebumps to form and wetness to pool in my panties.
His hand hand slides down my waist and settles on my hip, he slowly kneads the skin through my jeans and then goes down grabbing my thigh and lifting it up and pressing himself against me.
“Oh…fuck” I gasp when I feel him roll his hips into my clothed core, I could feel him rock hard under his joggers. He leans in again kissing me, we are both breathless, tilting our heads are tongues twisting together and another moan leaves my lips. Fuck! all those years of dancing coming in to play.
“Feel good?” He murmurs
I hum in response my brain not being able to form words at this point.
“I can make you feel even better….all you gotta do is say the word” He whispers and kisses the shell of my ear. He rolls his hips into me again, causing my head to fall back. He takes that opportunity to nip at my exposed throat.
“Tell me” He murmurs taking my mouth again, pressing into me. I almost felt like I was about to cum just like this
“Fuck! Minho….” I groan as those hips keep rolling into me, causing more wetness to pool, my panties had got to be soaked by this point.
“I can’t hear you” He chuckles
“Y-yes…please keep going” I groan
“Good girl” He says as he turns me, leading me towards the bed, our mouths still moving against each other. I feel the bed behind me so I sit down pulling him with me. He giggles as he pulls away to pull his tank top off. I stare up at him, admiring his hard pecs and firm six pack.
“Damn” I whisper
“Yeah…just wait” he chuckles
He makes quick work of pulling my jeans off and then pulling my shirt over my head and unsnapping my bra with ease. It was a whirlwind and within seconds I was almost completely naked, except for my panties. His fingers find my soaking slit, pulling my panties to the side he runs his fingers through my wet folds, eliciting a moan from me.
“You are so wet, probably been like this the whole time” he says while pulling my panties down over my ass and down my legs. He begins kissing my inner thighs, my clit throbbing for attention. I felt like one touch, one lick and I would be cumming all over his face.
He doesn’t touch though, he goes straight in moaning into my pussy. Devouring it, sucking my clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the swollen nub, once he enters two fingers into my dripping hole I was careening towards an orgasm. I don’t think I had ever cum this fast before. I was grinding on his fingers and he was moaning like this was the best meal he had ever had. My legs start shaking as everything goes white and my eyes roll back arching off the bed, white hot heat envelopes my whole body.
He licks me through my orgasm until I am squirming with over stimulation.
“Fuuuck Minho, that was insane” I cry out and I hear him chuckle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He begins kissing up my body, stopping at my nipples and swirling his tongue around the pebbled peaks.
“That was quick” he murmurs as his mouth finds mine, I could taste myself on him. “You taste just as sweet as I thought you would”
“Please just fuck me Minho” I whine out
“Of course baby, wouldn’t dream of making you wait any longer” he reaches over to his night stand grabbing a condom out of the drawer. I am laying on my back, holding myself up with my arms behind me. I have never felt the need to be fucked as I felt at that moment. He is standing on his knees between my legs, he carefully pulls his pants off while barely moving off the bed. His coordination was really mind blowing. His erection springs forward and my eyes widen. I honestly didn’t expect him to be that big, he definitely had big dick energy, but damn.
“I told you to just wait and see” he smirks as he rolls the condom over his impressive length.
“You ready” He says as he hovers over my hole. Suddenly I got a little gun shy. He was pretty big, I don’t think I had ever had one that big.
He leans down to kiss me. Pulling back to smooth my hair out of my face. “I will go slow…..until you tell me not too, ok”
He actually was pretty cocky, but in a confident sexy way. He knew who he was and was proud of it.
I nod and he lines himself up with my soaking hole. He enters me slowly and the stretch took me by surprise and caused me to gasp a little.
“Just breathe ok, I got you” He murmurs while placing soft kisses along my neck.
He slowly pushes forward until he is finally fully seated inside of me and I could feel every vein in that cock.
“Fuck…you are tight” He groans. “Tell me when your ready”
I nod and when he rolls his hips I swear I could see stars, there was some pain but it was subsiding to a intense pleasure and I could feel more wetness leak out of me.
I am a moaning mess under him as he rolls his hips over and over. I wrap my legs around his back as his arms go under my shoulders using them as leverage. He continues those slow steady strokes, while kissing me and dipping down to pull a nipple in his mouth. I needed more, I was grinding up to meet his thrusts.
“You can go harder” I whisper.
“Are you sure” he murmurs back.
I nod my head.
He huffs out that adorable chuckle. “Ok, but when you start screaming I might have to muffle you”
I kind of roll my eyes, but once he puts my leg over his shoulder and pulls all the way out and slams back in and I could feel him in my guts I did scream, loudly.
He begins a relentless pounding that had my eyes rolling back and I couldn’t stop the whines and moans that came out of my mouth. My hands clawing at his back as his cock hit that special spot, making my mind go blank. I was getting close again. “M-minho…getting close” I moan out
“Ok baby” he reaches between us as he roughly rubs my clit and I felt my body go taut.
“That’s right baby, just like that…let go for me….you can be as loud as you want”
The orgasm that washes over me, was one that I have never felt before. I was shaking underneath him and moaning his name like a prayer. The aftershocks seem to be never ending
“God you feel so good…clenching me so good….. getting so close” He groans gripping my hips tightly as he buries himself deep in me, I feel him throb inside of me, he groans into my neck as he shoots his release into the condom.
I was literally shaking as he held me. I had never had sex like that before and when his face came into my view and leaned in to kiss me softly.
“Are you ok?” He whispers
“Yeah…I um think I am good” I say quietly
“You wont be in a minute” He murmurs
“Huh? What do you mean?” I ask squinting my eyes
He takes a deep breath. “We were just consumed with a lot of need and desire and as you come down from that high that sex takes you to, you will feel guilty for doing this”
“No I wont” I say firmly
“Ok…I believe you” He whispers. Rolling over and standing up to get a towel.
After a few minutes I realized he was right. Fuck! What did we just do? I am going to lose my job. Anxiety rattled my brain.
I knew I should have left when I went to the bathroom.
***************************************
���Just spend the night” Minho whines into my mouth.
“No I have to work early in the morning” I say back as I push away from him to find my clothes.
“Come on I can make you cum all night, just stay…please” He was almost begging at this point.
“No” I say firmly as I pull on my pants.
“You just gonna let me blow your mind and then leave me” he says with a smile.
I roll my eyes, “You really are kind of cocky aren’t you?”
“Yeah a little, but I know you blew my mind so I am assuming I did too”
“it doesn’t matter, I have to work…..um is your roommate still out there?” Suddenly feeling shy at my previous ministrations, he definitely heard us.
“Nah he is probably asleep by now, he usually passes out on the couch while playing video games. Come on I will walk you out” He says while taking my hand.
I let him lead me towards the door. I glance over and see Jeongin asleep on the couch, still in only shorts. He has his arm over his face. Kind of adorable.
“See told you, sound asleep” he whispers pulling me closer to him and leaning down to kiss me deeply. I melt into the kiss and let him run his hands along my sides.
I giggle as I pull away, “Ok Minho I need to go” I gasp
He pouts a little, but lets me go. As I am walking to the elevator he blows me a kiss and then makes one of those finger hearts and I roll my eyes at his cuteness.
**************************************
Minho stood at the doorway watching her step into the elevator. He turns back into his apartment and softly closing the door.
“Sounds like you had fun” Jeongins voice cuts through the quiet
“Fuck Innie! I thought you were asleep” Minho yelps
“Nope just a little warn out” he smirks
That is when Minho notices the Kleenex laying on the floor.
“Eeew! Did you seriously jack off to us fucking” Minho cries out. “Unbelievable”
“What can I say you still sound so pretty…I miss you sometimes” Jeongin says with a pout
“Jesus Innie, you really are such a little slut” Minho laughs as he pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“You have no problem getting laid pretty much on the daily” Minho takes a big gulp of his water
“Yeah I know, but sometimes I like what is familiar” Innie says softly
Minho laughs out loud. “You are just wanting what you cant have especially since I am getting laid now”
“hey that’s not fair, when were debuting, training touring working our asses off you were fucking all the time, I was a good little idol and didn’t do anything I wasn’t supposed to” Innie says standing up to head to his room.
“I Know Innie, I am sorry but what we were doing is in the past, you know it couldn’t work and that is why we came to the agreement we did”
“I know…I just miss you sometimes” Innies says quietly and then shuts his door.
Minho takes a deep breath, the last thing I need right now is Jeongin getting all emotional. I just fucked my boss and it was amazing and now I have no idea how to go about this. She is probably going to hate me now, I guess I can’t blame her I was blinded by my desire and now all I feel is guilt.
He lays down on his bed, her smell still lingering and images of what just happened just 20 minutes ago, running through his head. That was so amazing and it is going to be so hard to not want to do it again.
**************************************
I sat down in my car, pounding my fists into the steering wheel. “Ugh why did I just do that” I scream out to nothing.
I am so screwed how am I going to go about this? This cannot happen again, if anybody finds out I would be in so much trouble. I am just going to have to avoid him, pretend it never happened. Fuck! There is no way I could pretend that didn’t happen, that was the best sex I had ever had and I am going to probably get wet the minute I see him again, probably beg him to fuck me over the desk at work. No way! I cannot not let that happen. I work mostly days this week, so I shouldn’t work with him until the weekend. It will be fine, by the time I see him the desire will wear off. I put my car in gear and make the drive back to my apartment.
That is what I did for the next two weeks, avoid and hide. I would leave before he got to work. I even switched a shift on the weekend so I didn’t have to work with him. Thankfully he didn’t have any of my contact information so the only way to talk with me was at work. It was working, I was fine and when I did finally have to see him it would be out of my system.
**************************************
Chan answered on the second ring. Minho rarely face timed anyone, so Chan was surprised to hear from him. Chan was greeted by a sad Minho who needed to shave.
“Damn Min what the hell happened to you”
“My fucking boss happened to me” Minho spits out.
“Oh yeah that one you had a crush on, right?”
“Yeah that one, well two weeks ago we finally hooked up and man it was fucking amazing. I knew that she could get in trouble, but the tension was just so intense, it just happened”
“Ok…so it sounds like you got what you wanted”
“No Hyung! She hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks! She avoids me and I am pretty sure she switched a shift so she didn’t have to work with me. I think I fucked up Hyung! She is driving me fucking crazy, I can’t stop thinking about her, the way she looks, the way she smells, the way she looked underneath me when I fucked her” Minho is babbling, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t talk to Jeongin about it because he would get all mopey and weird and the feelings have been consuming him.
“Ok so make her talk to you” Chan clears his throat. “Just pull her aside and make her talk to you, no matter what you guys need to talk about what happened, right?”
“Yeah….but what do I do just pull her into a closet, wait for her to get to work or something” Minho asks
“Well….yeah but not like creepy or stalkerish.” Chan laughs
“Ok I guess I can try, I think we work together tomorrow unless she switches shifts again”
“Ok well there you go, just talk to her”
“Thanks Hyung” Minho averts his eyes
“Aww our little devil is in love” Chan coos
“Shut up, Hyung” Minho bites back, but smiles knowing that Chan is probably right.
**************************************
I sat in the office and looked at the schedule and see that Minho is scheduled tonight, he will be here at 4. No more avoiding, I guess I am going to have to face him.
Devontrae walks into the office. “What’s up Cat?”
“Uh not much, hey does the other location need cooks?”
“Maybe, why?” Devontrae continues rifling through the file cabinets.
“Just wondering, could we get someone transferred there if needed”
With that he looks up giving me a curious expression. “Who?”
“Lino” I say simply
“Kdrama? I thought he was doing a good job here?” He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes questioning, I almost could feel like he knew what I had done.
“Yeah I just don’t like him, he is kind of cocky and I feel like he would fit in better there”
He laughs. “Come on you know we cant just send someone over to our other location because we don’t like them, plus it has to be something that he wants. Has he asked to be transferred?”
“No” I say staring at the ceiling, not wanting him to see my face.
“Is there something I need to know, Cat?”
“No! I just don’t like him I think he is a jerk, but whatever I will make it work, it will be fine” I stand up quickly and walk out the door before he could say another word.
Good job Cat! You weren’t obvious or anything. I check the time and realize Minho will be here in 20 mins. Fuck! I need to hide. God I sound like a fucking middle schooler, I duck into the women’s bathroom anyway to hide in my shame.
After about 30 minutes of sitting in the stall on my phone, doing what? Of course watching fucking videos of Minho. God I was seriously pathetic. I am actively trying to avoid this dude, who was famous in another life, but I am watching him dance on screen and with every hip roll I am brought back to that night.
This is ok, I can lust for him from afar, nobody needs to know, this is my secret, this is my shame. I emerged from the bathroom after I knew Minho would arrive and be tucked back into the kitchen.
Of course I run into Stephanie, “Hey girl, where have you been hiding?”
“I wasn’t hiding! Why would I hide?” I say this way too quickly and Stephanie gives me a weird look.
“Ok…can you cash me out I gotta get outta here”
I didn’t have any friends outside of work, I had my sisters, but they were way older than me and we were not really close. Stephanie was the closest friend I had and I couldn’t talk to her, since she worked here. How badly I wanted to blurt out that I banged Minho and confess to her that I can’t look at him again, because I might lose my job. I couldn’t, so I just buried my secret and went about my day.
Once the shift began and dinner rush came I was able to focus on work, since it was a Saturday, Samantha managed with me, so I told her to take care of any kitchen issues and I will stay up front. She was fine with this, since the kitchen was where she thrived. Minho wasn’t closing so I didn’t have to worry about that, he would be long gone before I needed to be back in the kitchen. I felt ok about it, another day was a successful attempt at avoidance.
Around 8 pm the dinner rush was winding down and Samantha came to me letting me know she was going to start phasing the kitchen.
“So I am going to phase, Minho is closing for Parker. I guess he has a date or something” She says this as she is wiping off the server board. I felt the icy fear in my veins and I felt like all color drained from my face.
“Um….so Minho is closing?” I say nervously
“Yeah, Parker has a date. Its fine, its not like he will get overtime or anything. You still got Ace and David closing with him”
“Yeah of course, its fine, all good” I say while turning on my heel and running to the office.
Should I fake sick? Tell Samantha I needed to leave and she would have to close. I sat down on the chair, staring off into space. I am going to have to face him. There was no helping it now, my attempts at avoiding were no more. I am going to have to just tell him that what we did was amazing, but a one time thing that could never happen again and move on with my life.
I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, I had successfully avoided seeing him all night. I stayed away from the bar so I couldn’t even see him through the window and he couldn’t see me. I refused to look at the pizza station when I went to the expo window, but I swear I could feel his eyes on me. Now sitting in the office watching the cameras and seeing the guys finishing up their closing work I knew any minute now they would be coming to get me to check them out and I would have to see him and undoubtedly talk to him.
I felt sick to my stomach. Was I having a panic attack? My heart was racing, I felt a lump in my throat and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I watched David on the camera walking towards the office. I felt like I was walking into a vat of lava, but I stood up to meet him at the door.
“Oh ok Cat we are all ready, except Minho is dragging his feet” David says while clocking out.
Fuck! Of course he was. He is trying to get me alone I know it, he is probably hurt possibly a little pissed since I pretty much ghosted him and a drop dead gorgeous guy like him has probably never been ghosted before.
“Ok sounds good David, I am sure your stuff is fine I trust you” I say nervously
“You don’t want to go check” He responds with a confused head tilt.
“Nah I am sure you are good, I have some stuff I need to get done in here”
“Ok well then have a good night”
“You too David”
I don’t know what I accomplished doing that. Either way I was now alone in the damn building with the man that I have been avoiding and I just put us basically in the plot of a cheesy porn. I had to wait, I couldn’t leave before him, I had to set the alarms and lock the doors, he will be in this office any second.
I watch the cameras as Minho turns off the light and glances up at the camera, winking. I duck down thinking he could see me, Oh my god I am losing my fucking mind. How the in the hell did he know I was watching? I am so fucked, I take deep breath. Maybe I could hide in the bathroom and just tell him to just go ahead and leave, he wouldn’t walk into the bathroom would he? I stand up quickly making the decision to run to the bathroom, but of course as soon as I open the door I crash right into Minho’s hard chest.
“Woah” he says with a little giggle. “You running again”
“Fuck! you scared me Minho!” I cry out backing away from him like he has a contagious disease.
“No I didn’t…. you knew I was coming, I am sure you were watching the cameras” he says with a little smirk.
I couldn ‘t run out the door, he was blocking it. I had no choice, I was stuck in this office with this man. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks, but he was just as stunning as he was when I saw him last. He is always one of the best dressed cooks back there, always wearing clean chef pants, his hair always perfect. Beautiful as always. I take a ragged breath and back up against the desk, while he leans on the door frame.
“Why have you been avoiding me Cat?” Minho asks his voice sounding sad
“I haven’t….” I trail off, knowing that he absolutely knows I was avoiding him.
“Cat…”he begins. He comes a little closer and I inch away, afraid if he gets close enough for me to smell him I might give in to those primal urges that has me touching myself almost every night since our night together.
“Please don’t hide from me, I know that what we did wasn’t a good idea and I am sorry that I pushed you, but I wanted you so bad. I still want you, I cannot stop thinking about you, but I understand that no matter how I feel or how you feel, we cannot do that again I don’t want you to lose your job”
I sigh. “Minho you didn’t push me, I gave in I shouldn’t have it was wrong of me, what we did was amazing I have…..never felt like that before, the setting just sucks and the timing is all off” I drop my head and he moves a little closer, I can smell him I could reach out and touch him.
“Do you believe in the alternate universe theory” Minho asks with a little smile
I look up and give him a look of confusion. “Huh? What’s that?”
“It is a theory that there are different realities, where you are the same person, but you exist in a different time, place things like that”
“Oh…I mean probably not”
“I do……I believe that in another universe me and you are fucking right now”
I feel my face get hot and I feel the heat rush to my core. Shit, why does he have to go around saying shit like that.
“Oh um….” I was flustered and he knew it, he is looking at me, a half smirk on his face. He takes another step towards me and then he was right in front of me, I stand up from my slouching position on the desk. My mouth is dry and my heart is racing again.
I am in control, I can control myself.
“Well…” but the words get lost in my throat when I feel his hand on my waist. His touch was like fire and even through my clothes I could feel his hand pressing into me.
“Minho….we can’t…. we have to….” I was losing the fight. His eyes were boring into me, he wasn’t saying anything but his eyes were telling me everything I needed to know.
“One more time jagi” he murmurs.
Fuck there it is again, he must have called me some pet name in Korean.
“T-that isn’t fair Minho…” I whisper
“I know, but playing fair really isn’t my thing and I might have to cheat a little to get you bent over this desk”
He comes a little closer, I can feel his hardness against me.
“Is there cameras in here” He ask while glancing up at the ceiling”
“Uh not right now, the one in here is broken” I whisper looking at his plump lips. Why did I just tell him that?
“I guess its our lucky day” He quirks his eyebrow. Then before I could mutter a word, his lips are crashing into mine, I immediately kiss him back, he lifts me up and sets me on the desk and slots himself between my legs. We are kissing like our life depends on it, like we need each other to breath.
“I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, Cat” he murmurs as his mouth finds my neck sucking little love bits along my skin.
I moan as his hands roam under my shirt, his hands cupping my breasts through my bra, thumb dragging along my nipple. I can feel it harden under his touch.
He begins whispering in my ear, a dirty mix of Korean and English, switching between the two with ease. The pool of desire in the pit of my stomach was consuming me.
He flips me around effortlessly and begins kissing the back of my neck, one hand cupping my breast and the other hand unbuttoning my pants.
“Fuck…Minho” I moan “why are you doing this to me? How are you having this effect on me”
“You did it to me first….its not my fault that we are drawn to each other” His hand slips down over the wet patch on my panties, his fingers slowly start massaging the bundle of nerves.
“I want to hear all those pretty sounds you make again, I want it to echo in this office while I am fucking you until you scream my name” His fingers keep working on my clothed clit. I feel the heat start building in my body.
“Fuck me Minho…” I moan as I arch back into him.
He squats down to pull my pants off, only pulling them off one leg. He just pushes my panties off to the side as he runs his hardness in my wet folds.
“Want to make you mine, all mine” He whispers.
He then stops. “Fuck!”
“What?” I could barely catch my breath, I just wanted him inside, stretching me out
“I-I don’t have a condom I forgot to grab one” He says sheepishly
“Your joking right? You wouldn’t start all this, get me worked up and then walk away just to get back at me for ghosting you for two weeks?”
My pussy is throbbing I am about to lose my mind if he doesn’t put it in.
“Fuck…just put it in” I cry out
I hear him chuckle, that beautiful chuckle. “You wouldn’t be begging for my cock now would you?”
“Is that what you want Minho? You want to hear me beg for you? Bend me over this desk and fuck me stupid, tell you how badly I need you to fill me up” I pant as he resumes rubbing his cock on my folds.
“Careful baby….I do like it when you beg, you can’t go around saying shit like that”
“Yeah what are you going to do about it” I shoot back
“Fucking brat” He grunts as he shoves his entire length inside of me. I gasp loudly as the stretch takes my breath away. He doesn’t go slow this time, pulling me so I am flush with his chest as he pounds into me. I couldn’t make a sound, the feeling of his cock basically in my throat, my brain unable to form words.
“What the matter, jagi? My cock got you speechless” He groans as he reaches around to rub my bundle of nerves.
“Y-your so fucking big” I gasp
“Yep and your so fucking tight, now cum on my cock”
It doesn’t take long, a few more deep thrusts and his steady rubbing on my clit and I am cumming hard all over him. He wraps his arm around my stomach to keep me from collapsing.
“Close…can I cum inside of you?” He groans
“Y-yes” I moan as my body shakes from my release.
He holds me around my middle tight as he releases into me, with a loud moan. “Fuuuckkk…that is too fucking good” I let myself fall forward my hands flat on the desk. I could feel his chest heaving against me.
“Please don’t run Cat….we can figure it out, this can’t be the last time” He pants out
“Would you be willing to transfer to the other location?” I say quietly
“Is that all I would have to do?” He lifts his head
“I am not sure….I think it would be a start, I wouldn’t be your direct boss. I will have to talk to Devontrae”
He squeezes me around my stomach with both arms and kisses me sloppily on my cheek. “Whatever we need to do, lets do it. You are driving me fucking crazy and these last two weeks you have been avoiding me, honestly impressive, but hurtful”
I sigh and turn around putting my arms around his neck. “I am sorry I have been acting like a fool, I cannot believe that I let myself get that way. I really am sorry. I promise I won’t do it this time”
“Promise?” He asks kissing me on my nose and putting his pinky up
I giggle. “Promise” I say and wrap my pinky around his.
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Sheriff Caitlyn Kiramman is nothing if not committed to her work. This goes equally for the stacks of paperwork as it does for undercover missions.
This professionalism is, of course, why she finds herself pushing her coworker against the wall behind a seedy nightclub, thumb brushing over the line of a cheekbone where the makeup has rubbed off to reveal a very distinctive face tattoo. It simply wouldn't do for their cover to be blown here after all, she thinks, leaning in.
#caitvi#vi#piltover's finest#caitlyn kiramman#violyn#obligatory highly professional undercover makeout scene#look i think the trope is kinda dumb but i still like it
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Saltwater
Rated: M
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Slow Burn
Summary:
"'Oil and water'...and what? She's the oil?" Ekko laughed. "Bullshit. She's salt. Stir her up and she'll melt right into you."
[Immediately following the end of Arcane Ep 9. As the cities descend into war, Caitlyn and Vi seek refuge, grappling with the aftermath.]
Words: 86,966 || Chapters: 15/? || Kudos: 2,094 || Hits: 66,144
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Midnight Oil
Rated: G
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
"Read to me?"
She was tentative. Quiet. Eyes downcast. She pressed into sore places on her wrist.
Caitlyn studied her.
"...read to you?"
A nod.
Caitlyn let silence ask for an explanation.
Vi lifted a shoulder.
"Bad day. Can't focus. And…your voice, you know?"
—"Keeps me here."
That's how it started.
Words: 1,671 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 571 || Hits: 6,425
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Pen and Ink
Rated: T
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Summary:
Vi is on the broad windowsill, tucked behind her knees, sketchpad open against her legs. The breeze from outside is easy, the light is soft and just right. Its angle cuts across the floor and hits Cait like it should—like she's the reason the sun rose that morning.
Vi's hand tightens around charcoal again. It starts to move.
Words: 1,219 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 236 || Hits: 2,679
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Meno Mosso
Rated: T
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Summary:
"So," she began.
"So," Vi echoed, eyes already seeking purchase elsewhere.
Caitlyn stepped into her line of sight.
"May I have this dance?"
Words: 2,992 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 328 || Hits: 4,685
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Sunkissed
Rated: G
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Summary:
"I was just wondering how many you had."
Vi blinks open her other eye.
"How many of what?"
Caitlyn's finger brushes with purpose against a point high on her cheekbone.
"Freckles."
Words: 808 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 425 || Hits: 3,739
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Diffuse
Rated: M
Genre: Romance
Summary:
Anticipation always wrecked her.
Words: 390 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 181 || Hits: 3,594
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Bow and Arrow
Rated: M
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Summary:
It's a pleasure to see her this way, like a bow unstrung.
Still curved and strong, but without all the strain.
Words: 950 || Chapters: 1/1 || Kudos: 152 || Hits: 1,705
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One Slow Turn
Rated: E
Genre: Romance
Summary:
"...I've got news for you."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
Caitlyn kissed her.
"It only gets better from here."
Words: 2,244 || Chapters: 2/2 || Kudos: 447 || Hits: 8,133
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Ebb and Flow
Rated: E
Genre: Romance
Summary:
"You're thirsty as hell, y'know that?"
Cait doffed the pillow, beaming.
"Are you complaining?"
Vi sniffed. "Uh. No. Absolutely not."
Words: 3,078 || Chapters: 2/2 || Kudos: 207 || Hits: 3,415
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Simple Things
Rated: T+ [Rating subject to change]
Genre: Romance
Summary:
Caitlyn broached the subject one night in late winter.
"For as long as you can stand it, let me spoil you."
"Simple Things" is a "Saltwater" compliant anthology.
Over time, this fic will evolve into a small compendium of "Saltwater" compliant one-shots, vignettes, and drabbles-short-and-long. Some may start as Twitter threads, others will be pulled from my stack of WIPs. All will fit with this anthology's main theme of Intentional Love. Particularly, Caitlyn's intentional acts of love towards Vi (as the opening scene suggests).
Words: 2,397 || Chapters: 2/2 || Kudos: 202 || Hits: 1,405
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Note: all statistics are current as of Feb 9, 2023.
Before reading any fanfiction on AO3, be sure to carefully review all tags, warnings, and supplements the author provides. I personally am extremely careful in my tagging to ensure a safe reading experience, and I do not tag idly. If you see a warning, please take it seriously and check in with yourself before proceeding. This is especially important in my main multi-chapter fic, Saltwater.
#arcane#arcane fanart#arcane fanfic#piltoversfinest#violyn#caitvi#caitlyn kiramman#vi#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#SaltwaterAO3
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The Living Sculptures
by Luna_Monroe
“Does the lady know Miss Kiramman?” Mrs. Reynolds' voice sounds so pleasantly surprised at the notion. Vi hums, her eyes never leaving the sculpture. She can imagine her now, her sharp cheekbones, full lips and the bluest eyes Vi had ever seen. In the privacy of her own mind, Vi wishes she could see her again. To apologize. To say thank you for sending Luxanna back to Zaun. Caitlyn hadn’t accompanied Luxanna, but Vi knew she was the culprit. Who else could it have been?
Looking at the statue now, Vi feels like she’s both gazing upon a stranger and a long lost friend. Someone she has admittedly found herself missing and thinking about constantly, wondering what her life would look like if she had answered differently all those months ago. The statue, while beautiful, doesn’t do Caitlyn justice. It doesn’t show the little furrow in her brow when she’s focused, the small, hard fought crinkles in her eyes when Vi had finally managed to get a laugh. It doesn’t show the lines of her face that scream nothing short of crestfallen heartbreak at Vi’s own hand.
“Only a little,” Vi finally replies.
“Do you not think she’s beautiful?” Mrs Reynolds asks.
Vi doesn’t look away from the statue. “She’s stunning.”
Words: 11196, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/F
Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends), Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard, Cassandra Kiramman, Miss Sarah Fortune, Viktor (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Claggor (Arcane: League of Legends), Mylo (Arcane: League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends)
Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard/Jinx
Additional Tags: Inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Soft Caitlyn (League of Legends), POV Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn and Vi are in Love (League of Legends), Angst with a Happy Ending, 2005 pride and prejudice inspired, I saw fan art and here is the result, Vi Needs a Hug (League of Legends), Good Sibling Vi (League of Legends), Soft Vi (League of Legends), I can't stop seeing Cait/Vi in everything I love, Cait/Vi, Vicait
Read on A03.
from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’
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uhm hi, if the requests are still open, could you please make a vi x reader when reader is feeling down about their weight (they’re on the chubby side) and vi comforts them?
(sorry, english isn’t my first language 🥲)
↞Vi with a chubby S/O↠
【Requests are open! Can I say that of all the requests, this is my favorite? I’m curvy too and I was going to write something with the arcane characters with a curvy/chubby s/o. Plus I cosplay Caitlyn, and just yesterday a Vi cosplayer picked me up when I said I was insecure about my weight </3.
I hope the request will live up to your expectations <3】
▶Soft belly [Vi]
↠Type: [Headcanon/ask/request]
↠TW: mention of weight struggles
↠Character/s: gn reader, Vi
↠If you have any requests, 𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕝 ↞
Complexes on your body are a very normal thing, especially when you live in a city where most people are thin or muscular due to poor living conditions.
And spending time in front of the mirror looking at your own body is something equally normal, even if your thighs today seem softer than usual.
In these moments you don’t want to be perceived, but at the same time you feel the need to be hugged, to feel loved and valid even if you are struggling to accept yourself.
When you approach Vi you feel almost guilty
She looks up from her knuckles, clumsily wrapped in clean gauze
"Hey honey, why this sad face?"
Her voice is sweet as she searches for your gaze, and when she notices that your eyes are shiny, she immediately rises and approaches you.
she takes your face in her hands just lifting it, her thumbs -rough and ruined by calluses and scars- gently caressing your cheekbones.
"I put on weight" you whispers with broken voice, you can not look into her eyes because of the growing sense of shame
That’s why you don’t know exactly how to react when her lips stretch in the softest smile you’ve ever seen.
"Is that what bothers you, honey? It’s because I’m a magnificent cook. I learned directly from Jericho, but my father was also good at cooking" she whispers, leaning her forehead against yours, and gradually synchronizing her breath to calm you.
her tone is calm, sweet but also playful, and this is enough to tear you a smile despite the eyes are still wet
"idiot" you whisper when she leaves you a soft kiss on the lips before bringing her hands to your hips, squeezing not too hard on the softest points.
"It’s all mine" she says proudly as her fingers start tickling you until you forget she was sad a moments before.
When she sees you’re on the edge of tears, she stops to fill your face with kisses before bending over and effortlessly pulling you into her arms.
No matter how much you weigh, that girl’s arms are ready to support you without any difficulty. Years and years of fighting in the lanes have not been in vain.
absolutely necessary to add how deeply she loves your body: she makes you understand it constantly pinching gently your cheeks, resting with her head on your lap when you are on the couch, pulling your legs on hers to caress them carelessly when you talk, kissing every inch of your skin when you’re laying in the blankets.
but on those days where you are more insecure she says it aloud, if necessary she does not have a problem doing the small house chores holding you in her arms.
The odds of her making you sit on the table and telling you how much she loves everything about your between kisses are so high that they’re a certainty.
runs all over your body with her lips in a single path of kisses and compliments whispered against the skin, leaving occasionally small marks that can remind you, when you look in the mirror, how much she loves that body.
she won’t invalidate your insecurities for even a second, she’ll always take time for you until you start to smile again.
#arcane#arcane headcanon#arcane headcanons#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane x female reader#arcane x male reader#arcane requests#league of legends#arcane violet#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi x you
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Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 14 - Primal Scene
Summary: Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.
AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO
FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)
Playlist on Youtube
Fanart, Meta, Snippets
Chapters: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |8 | 9 | 10 |11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54
CH 14: Vi makes plans. So does Silco.
Cw: for rough sex with multiple partners in Silco's PoV. There are also brief mentions of underage sex in Vi's PoV. Nothing is graphic, and the activity takes place with a peer, but if such content offends you, please be warned!
Separate tw: for bloodplay, dubious consent, biting, mistreatment of sex workers, and violence/bloodshed. On top of that, another tw: for mentions of mental illness, panic attacks, PTSD and abandonment issues.
Step inside my heart, broken up
Show you what it's like, only for the night
~ "Empty Love" – Tech Thieves
"It adds up," Vi says.
The drumroll of rain is swallowed up by her flat's old architecture. It is a two-story townhouse at Sapphilite Row: all folio-colored stucco walls and faded blue windows, calligraphed with marks of age. The place is simply furnished: a tiny livingroom, and an equally tiny bedroom. A colonial-style doorway leads to a balcony, its eaves dripping rain down into the cozy bakery below, where bready scents waft deliciously.
There is an earthiness to the neighborhood that appeals to Vi. Downtown is the curated surface of Piltover: glitzy and modern. But these districts hold a gritty pulsebeat similar to the Undercity. Generations of families living in the same block since the mercantile era.
Inside, the lights are off. A luminous streak glows through the bathroom's half-open door. In the clawfoot tub, Vi lays in the steaming water. Her hair clings wetly to her scalp. Her body, all taut muscle and whorling gearwork tattoos, feels pummeled from top to toe.
Thank Janna for Piltover’s water.
Clean, hot, unspoiled water.
In the past, baths were never Vi’s thing. Give her a hot blast under a shower any day. At the Drop, they'd had no bathtub. Just a rusty spray-hose with no pressure, and yet she and Powder had to jockey with Mylo and Claggor for its use anyway.
But in winters, Vander let the girls haul down the giant metal tub into the basement. They'd boil water and carry it downstairs in big pots. Then she and Powder would lock the door, strip right there on the cold tiles, and slither inside with happy shrieks. Vi still remembers Powder's blue hair plastered to her skull and crowned with bubbles. Her sister loved the sounds they'd make, tiny planets popping in her ears.
Buoyed by the water, her small body would float into Vi's lap. She'd let Vi check her hair for lice, then wash it and wring it out until it squeaked. Sometimes, Vi would sing to her—old ballads half-remembered from childhood. Powder was especially fond of The Wave-Soaked Maiden. Her eyes would go round and shiny, and she’d barely breathe for fear of missing her favorite lyric:
Behind her lips, her teeth were sharp/Much sharper than his knives/She said to him, "Come closer, sir/And I'll eat you alive.”
Each time Vi hit that part, her sister would kick her feet through the suds, squealing.
Powder was happiest in water.
Vi's eyes burn.
Caitlyn sits at the tub's lip. She is in a linen robe of the palest blue, the fabric sticking heavily to her skin in the bathroom's swelter. Her hair is twisted up off her neck; wisps float around her face. Earlier, she'd helped Vi to disinfect and re-bandage the cut on her cheekbone. It is minor, only three stitches necessary. Vi was told the scars will fade in time.
Caitlyn's fingertips trace the bandage on Vi's cheek. Her eyes are troubled. More than that—sorrowful. And that sorrow is hard for Vi to bear.
Six months without bloodshed. What a sweet six months they were.
"The whole thing felt preplanned," Vi says. "The Council greenlighting my visit to the Lanes. Silco agreeing to let me see Powder. I figured it was a trap to draw me out and start trouble. Then Silco sent his blackguards after me, and I lured myself out. I gave him the trouble he wanted." She scrubs the back of her head. "Silco knew I'd take the bait, too. He was ready. The blackguards, the rotties, the spiel. Everything."
Caitlyn's bitten lip telegraphs concern. "Now he's using your sister as leverage?"
"Leverage for something bigger."
"Three jobs, he said?"
Vi grimaces. "Vander always said bad things come in threes."
No way to determine what the jobs are. Vi doubts they consist of anything pleasant. She wishes she'd pressed for details. But getting brained with a tray did a number on a girl's conversational skills. No concussion. But the throb is her skull is like the mother of all hangovers.
She feels drunk. Worse than drunk. Stoned. Too full of thoughts she cannot digest.
Not all of them are hers.
After Vi was transferred from Silco's chopper to Piltover's yacht, she'd had a short exchange with the Councilor on board. Medarda. Even growing up in the cesspit of poverty, Vi knows that family name. The woman herself was polished in every sense: skin, hair, accent. Not beautiful like Caitlyn; she had the fascination of a piece of art. Stylized—that was the word.
Like all Piltovans, she'd made Vi feel like an unwashed monster.
You're safe now, she'd said, in affectedly soothing tones. In a spot of trouble—but safe.
My sister isn't safe! Vi snapped. I need help her!
You feel she is in danger?
I know so!
Without quite meaning to, Vi ended up giving the older woman the low-down on everything she'd seen. She'd told her about Powder. How her sister was stolen and warped by Silco. How the warping went beyond war or weapons.
Medarda's expression stayed inscrutable as a Sphynx.
I will see what can be done, she'd said.
That was the last Vi saw of her.
They'd remained docked at Zaun for an hour. Vi wonders what negotiations took place abovedeck. She imagines Silco and Medarda in a dialogue like a dance, each one jockeying for the upper-hand. Vi doesn't trust Silco. But she has no reason to trust the Councilors either. They are birds of a feather: all glittering masks to conceal their sharp-edged manipulations, and unless you learn to master their doublespeak, they'll slice you to ribbons.
The Pilties are just like Silco. Under their suave veneers, there is nothing but selfish spite.
Except Caitlyn.
Sweet Caitlyn. Straight-shooting as a rifle.
Since Stillwater, Vi thought of herself, in a ferociously single-minded way, as never needing anybody. She'd never, in her twenty-three years, had much trouble getting out of whatever trouble she'd gotten into. But with Caitlyn, there is no trouble.
Only a profound sense of sanctuary.
When the yacht docked back in Piltover, Caitlyn was waiting at the gangplank. She'd looked as ragged as Vi felt. They hadn't touched. But Vi felt something light her up softly from inside. The late hours of stress dropped away, the muscles locked into tightness loosened, and she felt himself melding back into the living world.
When they were alone, Caitlyn snatched her up in a hug that just about crushed the life out of Vi.
Or shocked it back into her.
Later in bed, they’d made love: slow, syrupy, breathless. But it was a struggle for Vi to stay present. Her pleasure was a clammy shiver, skimming her surface so she barely felt it, so intent was she on not thinking of everything else. Caitlyn held her close and smoothed her hair, whispering comfort. But Vi couldn't hear anything except the nauseous beating of her own heart.
That's when the shakes began. Her palms sweating. Her heart thumping in her chest. Figments of the past tapped Vi on the shoulder, clouding her mind with memories of Stillwater. Not even seventeen years old, chains clanking on her wrists, her feet marching in single file, disembodied voices dictating when to sleep, when to shit, when to shower. And the screams, too many to count. Screams from the midnight assaults, when inmates cornered each other in the shadows to settle a score or satisfy an itch. Screams from before that. The cannery doused in flames. Vander a slab of motionless meat on the pavement. Blood on Powder's elbows and knees. Powder's blood on Vi's knuckles, and the distress in her sister's cries—please Vi please don't go I need you!
She'd started hyperventilating in Caitlyn's arms. Had to wrench herself away and slam into the bathroom. She'd not realized she was going to be sick until the puke boiled out to splatter the toilet. Shivering, she'd knelt there, and begun to cry, one palm pressed to her mouth.
She didn't want Caitlyn to hear her. She didn't want Powder to think she wasn't strong enough. She didn't want Silco to know how thoroughly he'd rattled her.
Ironic.
Powder and Silco weren't there. She was all alone.
In the morning, headsore and heartsick, she couldn't meet Caitlyn's eyes. Instead, she'd asked about the Council. Were they angry? Was Vi going to lose her job as Peacekeeper? Or get tossed out of Piltover altogether?
Caitlyn informed Vi that they'd both been placed on formal three-month suspension. There would be an inquest into the blackguard’s death. Charges could follow if the investigation proved Vi had acted with malice aforethought. If found guilty, she faced termination from her position. If innocent, she'd return to work.
All told, Vi had expected worse. A boot to the rear rather than a slap on the wrist.
Yet beneath her relief sat an unease.
The Council should've been angrier with her for jeopardizing the Peace Treaty. Unless they'd anticipated this outcome. Planned for it.
Just like Silco.
At the Kiramman estate, Caitlyn's mother was furious. She'd called Vi a ruinous influence. She tried to talk Caitlyn into breaking it off with Vi.
It hadn't gone down well. Bypassing a number of smaller spats between the mother and daughter, it had escalated into a championship match, plenty of ammo on both sides. The mansion's elegant halls echoed with screeching female voices. Some of the words would've made a Demacian dowager drop dead in a swoon.
Vi stood frozen halfway up the stairs, with Mister Kiramman paralyzed at the bottom. Their glances narrowly swerved off each other like a car crash.
In the end, Caitlyn had left the estate hand-in-hand with Vi, a bag slung over her shoulder. It was heavier than her typical overnighter. An unquestionable symbol of moving out of one home and into another. Just her and Vi—a fact that had sent Councilor Kiramman into a secondary meltdown. It was disgraceful—Caitlyn was aristocracy—they weren't married—she should be focusing on her career and not playing around with a Fissure-bred girl.
Yet the more they had argued about it, the more Violet realized that Caitlyn had been building up to this move for weeks. The fight was just the well-timed shove out the door. And Mister Kiramman was surprisingly supportive; between the two of them, the Councilor had to pipe down.
Vi should've felt guilty. She'd never meant to wedge herself between Caitlyn and her family. But she was mostly grateful.
She'd wanted to ask Caitlyn to move in for a while. She'd just never plucked up the courage.
She could face down opponents twice her size. But how did you ask the sweetest girl in Topside to abandon her deluxe digs and cohabit with you in a one-bedroom flat? She could only interiorize it with a soapy, tongue-in-cheek narration. Share my creaky mattress and my messed-up life, Cupcake. Forget the riches. I'll take care of you.
Each time, she'd snorted it off as insanity.
Now, Vi glances at Caitlyn. Beautiful, kind Caitlyn. What if her mother is right? What if Vi is a ruinous influence? What if she's dragged her into something shady—again? What if she's safer far away from Vi, back in the comfort of her mother's home, and her lifestyle of immaculately tidy order?
Questions with no answer. Plenty of guilt, though. The familiar stew that nourishes Vi's deepest insecurities.
Her worst self.
"What are we going to do?" Caitlyn whispers.
Vi's guilt curdles into shame.
We.
Already, Caitlyn is making Vi's problem hers.
She whispers back, "If I do the jobs, I see Powder. That's the short and long of it."
"It's a lot of short, and not enough long, Vi. Silco is probably—"
"Lying?" Vi exhales. "I know. It's what he's good at."
"It's not just that." Her fingertips retrace Vi's bandaged cheekbone. "He might have worse plans than blackmail."
Vi’s jaw hardens. "I know. But I need to know if the Council is in on it too."
Caitlyn's fingertips go still. "You think they'd go that far?"
"They had no issues using me as bait." A rottweiler set loose, as Silco described her. "They've got their own agenda. Same as Silco."
Caitlyn doesn't argue. But her voice is halting. "I don't think Jayce would condone it. Not to the point of Silco harming you as part of a larger bargain."
"It might not be Pretty Boy pulling the strings."
"The others, then?"
"The fancy one. The Noxian princess."
"Councilor Medarda?" A gentle smile tugs at Caitlyn's mouth. "She's not a princess, silly. Her family are warrior class. Nobility."
"Whichever."
Vi lolls back against the curved tub. Beads of moisture roll down her jaw.
"My point is," she says, "I don't buy her story about collecting me for cross-border security. Her yacht was anchored in Zaun for a full hour. I saw Silco's chopper through the porthole. Before Medarda saw Silco off, they shook hands. I'm positive they've made some sort of deal."
"You think you're a pawn in it?"
"Or Powder is."
Caitlyn falls silent. Her soft hands curve over Vi’s shoulders, fingers kneading, heels strong. There are knots the size of marbles buried there. The rest of Vi feels the same: a giant knot of tension.
In her mind's eye, dream-shocked, she can still see Powder's curled-up shape in the burning alleyway. Silco's silhouette looming over her with a knife. Then the scene recoalesces, not fire and filth, but liquid luxury. The skyscraper suite. The blue pool. Powder perched on the diving board, swinging a pair of doll-legs. Then diving into the water and climbing out, artfully gleaming, right into Silco's arms.
Her smile for Silco's safekeeping. Her needlework on Silco's handkerchief. Her art decorating his butterfly knife.
All wrong.
In Silco's tent, Vi was ready to kill him. For touching Powder. For taking her away. Taking Vi away from her, and locking her up in Stillwater. Her rage had filled the air. A haze that was nearly alcoholic—or its opposite. Alcoholics needed treatment for their binges. Vi needed to put a monster like Silco behind bars.
Or—if worst came to worst—put him in the ground.
She tries to dispel the thought. She isn't ready to go there.
Not yet.
Deliberately, she puts out her hand and squeezes Caitlyn's kneecap. The furor in her mind softens, a cleansing sort of calm. She relaxes beneath the waterline and Caitlyn's kneading hands. Her eyelids droop, growing heavier as the seconds tick by…
Caitlyn says, "Would it be better if—?"
"Huh?"
"Wouldn't it be better if you refused Silco?"
"It would."
"But you're not going to?"
"I'm not abandoning Powder again," Vi says sharply. "That's why I need to gather my own information. Find out if I can get close to Powder. Get her away from Silco. There's no other way she's coming out of this with her mind intact."
Caitlyn's mouth compresses. "You saw her at his headquarters?"
"In a pool."
"How did she look?"
Vi's gut aches in remembrance. "Like the usual."
"The usual? Violent? Manic?"
Vi shakes her head. "No, she—" She catches herself with a frown. "She looked more like Powder than Jinx. Older, but somehow... younger too."
"You're convinced Silco is hurting her."
For a shuddery second, Vi shuts her eyes.
"He has to be," she says. "He hurts everyone around him."
"He's kept your sister since she was a child." Caitlyn's voice is perturbed. "If that was... the nature of their relationship... surely our investigations would have turned up evidence of abuse?"
Vi opens her burning eyes.
"Same way the investigations turned up evidence he was a Shimmer-baron?" she retorts. "Silco has sneaky down to a science."
Caitlyn considers this. Then—"Have you considered a different possibility?"
"What?"
"That she and Silco see each other as family?"
A chill runs down Vi's spine.
Family.
Like Vander. Like Mylo and Claggor.
"He's going to great lengths to keep her close. It might be an ego thing. A way to assert control. Or it could be—in his own mind—justified. Jayce told me, during the parley, Silco seemed ready to yield to Piltover's demands. Then Jayce asked for Jinx, and he refused point-black. A week later, the Fissures declared war." A beat. "Maybe Silco believes she belongs with him."
Repulsed, Vi shudders. "A matched pair, huh?"
Caitlyn shakes her head. "Just... complicated. This whole mess started when you were children, didn't it? When she set off a bomb to save you all?"
Vi nods.
The memory of that night slices through her chest. Its mere mention is a minefield. She's shielded Caitlyn from all but the barest shrapnel of details. Caitlyn, in turn, has kept a strategic distance: part-concern, part-consideration.
Now she says something unexpected: "Maybe Silco sees himself as her rescuer?"
Vi recoils. "You mean kidnapper!"
"What matters is what he thinks," Caitlyn says, "not what you or I believe." Her palms curve over Vi's shoulders. "You know, when I was a girl, my family would go up to our summer home in the countryside. For me, it was bliss. I'd spend hours outdoors with my rifle, practicing on the posts around the grounds. By evening, I'd stumble back indoors, happy and absolutely filthy. My mother would lock me in the bath, and warn I'd not be allowed downstairs until I'd washed off every speck of dirt."
"A hard-knock life," Vi says, having a halfhearted go.
"One afternoon," Caitlyn goes on, undeterred, "I stumbled on the groundskeeper in the forest. I'd known him for years. We were like family." Her tone tempers. "He was... rogering one of the maids. They'd slipped out by the hothouses for more privacy. A countryside pastime, or so I gathered when older. Back then, I'd no idea what I was seeing. I was absolutely horrified." She sighs. "The Psychickers call it The Primal Scene."
Vi wavers a short laugh. "That's a Friday night in the Lanes."
"What?"
"Privacy's not a thing belowground. We grow up watching plenty of um. Primal Scenes."
Caitlyn is taken aback. It happens sometimes. She'll share an anecdote from her gilded girlhood, with the shyness of a child offering a glimpse into a box of trinkets. In return, Vi will offer anecdotes of her own: heavy as a block of lead clapped in her palm.
But not in retrospect.
Miserable as life in the Undercity was, Vi's times with her family still hold a rosy hue. Maybe because the way things ended was so much worse?
She still remembers being thirteen and vaulting rooftops back to the Drop with Mylo and Claggor and Powder, carried on a flying carpet of adrenaline. She remembers the first time she'd spotted two silhouettes in the ginnel near their home—Vander with one of the barflies. She remembers staring, bewildered, before her mind connected their shadowy movements to the act of sex.
She remembers recoiling, not in shock, but because Powder might glimpse something she shouldn't see.
Casually, she'd chivvied her sister and the boys away from the spot. They'd gotten cherry sodas and gone to the arcade. Later that evening, she'd been unable to look Vander in the eye, nearly to the point where he began to suspect she'd done something awful, and was terrified of spilling the beans. Of course, Vander being Vander, it wasn't long before he'd cornered her and forced out a confession.
They'd had The Talk soon after.
Not that Vi needed it. Most sumpsnipes picked up the facts of life early in the streets. By age eleven, Vi already knew all about fucking. All the ways to do it. How to make it good, how to fake it if you couldn't pull it off. But Vander's advice, imparted with a matter-of-fact intimacy, was different. He'd educated her, not about sex, but its consequence.
To this day, his words linger:
Never touch someone unless they've given permission. Otherwise, you're stealing their dignity. Never string someone along or play 'em for a fool. Always tell 'em straight. And most important: if you're going at it with a lad, always pay the Protection Racket. If he's not keen on paying, then he's not worth messing around with. You don't owe anyone your body. About the only thing you owe is the truth.
His parting shot was ambiguous: Be smarter than I was, yeah?
Vi had barely, at that stage, traded more than a few gropes with the girls in the neighborhood. But Vander's advice proved sound. She'd put it to use, two years later, when sneaking out of the Drop in the heat-shimmer of summertime, to meet Nao, an older cat-eyed girl with a lithe stride and a slow smile. She was a dancer at Babette’s. Spoke barely any Standard, but her coy aloofness made her wildly popular with the clientele.
To Vi, though, she was just plain sweet. In the evenings, she'd take up to her attic by the Old Hungry: a workshop full of sawdust and the slanting red rays from a neon signboard. She'd taught Vi all about kissing; how to coax the lips apart, how to tease with tongues. They’d practice and practice until the very air between them turned electric with sighs.
Two months in, they’d traded a whole lot more than kisses.
Vi remembers how she’d lost her virginity in that attic. Only it hadn't felt like losing anything. It had tasted sweet as candy and shocky as a thousand volts, but afterward somehow lonely too, like the world had gotten bigger and Vi's own place in it full of riskier twists.
Consequences.
Afterward, though she'd stayed sweet, Nao made it plain she wasn't looking for anything serious. She had plans to move to Bilgewater. Sooner rather than later. The Undercity's brothels were a dying breed. The tarts, even the most talented, had a short shelf life. Stop tricking and they'd be swallowed by the grime. But dare to dream big, and the gangs would come knocking.
Nao had ambitions, and a survivor's streak. As far as she was concerned, Vi was only a fun fling. Love was never even a question.
Keeping Vander’s advice in mind, Vi had played their parting cool. But her heart had felt like a bruised slab in her chest. She'd wept afterwards, alone in bed, having learned since childhood to do so in silence. Then she'd felt Powder's small body burrowing under the sheets, her big blue eyes seeing Vi's distress and understanding none of it—though now Vi thinks Powder might've understood more than she realized.
"Did you go someplace scary?" she'd whispered.
"No, Pow. Not scary."
"So why're you crying?"
"Just... missing mom and dad."
It wasn't remotely true. But it wasn't a lie, either.
Powder went quiet. Her small arms passed around Vi's ribcage, squeezing. "I'll always love you, Vi. Even if stuff gets scary."
Another wave of tears surfaced. Vi swallowed them. "Me too, Pow."
"To the moon and back."
Vi gathered Powder closer. "'Cause you're my little star."
Powder nestled her cheek on Vi's shoulder. "And this is our safe spot."
They fell asleep cozied together. And the world still felt too big, full of the twists and tumbles. Full of consequence.
But Vi had Powder.
Someone she could always hide under the blankets with. Someone whose love never had to leave town. Someone who she'd protect at all costs.
Her Safe Spot.
Caitlyn's fingers skim along Vi's jaw. "Perhaps you'll tell me sometime?"
The reminiscing must've shown on her face. Vi blinks. “About what?”
“Growing up in the Lanes.”
"You mean with the drunks rutting in the alleys?" Vi rears away in mock-alarm. "Dirty cupcake! No wonder you got locked up in the bath!"
"Ha ha."
She tickles Vi’s doubled-up right knee—a secret weak-spot. Vi ripples and torques away. Caitlyn’s impish fingers become a caress. Her thumb traces the birthmark there; a red splotch that Powder used to call a Bunny Mark, because it resembled the rabbit on the moon.
"Back to what I was saying..." Caitlyn says.
"Your sex-fiend groundskeeper."
"I certainly thought so. I ran to my father's study. I usually went to him first with trouble. My mother was always busy with social engagements. And she could be rather... reactive… if she felt I was in danger."
Vi tactfully says nothing.
"I'm not sure what I told my father. But he got the gist. He questioned the maid on whether foul play had occurred. She swore it was purely consensual. Afterward, my father requested she and the groundskeeper confine their extracurriculars to the staff quarters. I couldn't understand why he hadn't dismissed the man. I thought—he'd been attacking the maid. Hurting her. Afterward, I saw them laughing together. Like they'd been playing a game."
Vi makes a thoughtful noise.
"'Don't judge, Cait,' my father said. 'Grown-ups are complicated.' True enough, though it wasn't much comfort to me. Anyway, the groundskeeper retired soon after. My modesty was spared further outrage."
There is a beat.
Vi asks, "How's this relate to Silco?"
Caitlyn hesitates. "What I'm trying to say is... I grew up in a bubble of ignorance. You grew up surrounded by adults doing grown-up things. It's natural for both of us to fall back on what we know. To assume we understand who people are. Or why they do what they do."
Vi grunts.
"I'm not denying Silco is a terrible influence on your sister." Caitlyn takes a breath. "But if he does have genuine affection for her... you're in twice the danger."
"He'll do everything possible to keep her," Vi says. "And get rid of me."
"But you're still going after him?"
"Yes."
Silence drips between them.
Caitlyn swallows. "I don't want to see you hurt, Vi."
Vi scrubs a hand across her cheeks. They are tearless, but she feels the burn of chagrin.
"Look," she whispers, "I know it's a risky deal. Even if I get to see Powder, she might not want to see me. Or she might attack me. Janna knows, she's killed plenty of people. I know that. But I can't leave her, Caitlyn. She's—"
Caitlyn squeezes Vi's shoulder. "She's your sister."
Vi cranes her neck to stare. There is a gravity in Caitlyn's voice that matches the twist of her brows. Like she is acknowledging something she'd not fully come to grips with before, a deeper truth emerging out of the cracked shell of the old. Something beyond Piltover's and Zaun's binaries of good and bad, but belonging to a gray-zone of hellish difficulty.
Vi whispers, "My sister."
Caitlyn rubs her fingers together. They are already tired from massaging Vi's tension-packed muscles. She looks tired too. But her downturned eyes suggest more than the stress of last night's hide-and-seek, or the dressing-down from the Council, or the blow-up with her mother. The sight makes something tighten in Vi's chest.
Gently, she gathers Caitlyn's hands in hers.
"I'm sorry," she says. "This wasn't in the cards."
"'This'?"
"You moving in with me." Vi inhales in the clouded air. "I wanted to celebrate if it ever happened. Go someplace nice. Us together."
Caitlyn shakes her head. "I'm here because I'm glad to be, Vi. No celebrations needed."
Vi forces down a reflexive lump of stubbornness. "You deserve them."
"So do you."
She is still holding Caitlyn's hands. Now the delicate bones twist out of her grip, so Caitlyn is clasping Vi's. Her eyes are lit with a fevery glow.
"You deserve to have your family," she says. "Same way you deserved safety, and shelter, and a childhood."
Her voice seems to come from far-off, waterlogged and wavery. It echoes the sensation sluicing in Vi's chest.
"I'm so sorry," Caitlyn says. "I'm sorry for everything you went through. I'm sorry for everything you're going through now. It just… scares me when you keep it all bottled up. I understand there are parts of your life that you don't want to talk about. Parts of you that you're reticent about sharing. But I do feel they're the most important parts." She squeezes Vi's hands. "Your sister is tied up in all that. Or better put? She's the most important tie of all."
Vi's eyes sting. Twisting around, droplets skittering down her spine, she meets Caitlyn face-to-face. Precludes her own messy outpouring, or more of Caitlyn's gentle words, by pulling her close. The familiar smell of jasmine clings to Caitlyn's skin. Vi breathes it in, her heart throbbing in its cage.
Caitlyn's fingers brush the soft hairs at the base of Vi's neck. "I meant to ask you..."
Vi shivers. "Yeah?"
"The blackguard." Caitlyn falters. "You don't honestly believe—?"
"I killed him."
"You're not a killer, Vi."
Now the tears spill. Vi squeezes her eyes shut, cheek resting on Caitlyn's shoulder.
"I don't know what to think," she rasps. "I don't know who to believe. I know there's always accidents in a brawl. Hell, no one knows that better than me. But I also know Silco is a liar. He always has a line of shit." Her throat is a knot. "If he's lying about the—the blackguard—then it's just to knock me off-balance. And if he's telling the truth—" A gust of emotion shakes through her. "I need to take him down, Caitlyn. For everyone he's hurt with his games. Me. Vander. Benzo. Ekko. Especially Powder. I need to get her away from him."
Caitlyn startles her by slipping off her robe and into the tub. Water sloshes the tiles. Her bare arms enfold Vi, and their foreheads touch. Every time she does this, with that look of pure love on her face, Vi's doubts fade into the background.
"We'll find a way," Caitlyn says.
Vi nods, their heads together.
"Whatever Silco is planning against you…"
"I won't let it get that far." Resolve makes a bludgeon of Vi's voice. "I'm going to get Powder first."
"I'll help you."
"Help…?"
"I'll talk to Jayce. See if he can learn more about the blackguard's death. See if Silco is hiding anything."
"You don't need to—"
"Yes, I do," Caitlyn cuts in. "You don't deserve this on your conscience. Not after everything else. Let me help, Vi. However I can."
"You always do, Cupcake. I'm thankful—and so fucking sorry."
"Sssh."
Caitlyn tips her head down and kisses Vi. Her lips are pure warmth and her breath envelops Vi with a sigh that makes her dizzy with the sweetness of it, her whole body attuned to Caitlyn and nothing else.
Twilight glows through the rain-speckled window. Dust motes float around their twined bodies.
All those years Vi had never dwelt on comfort for herself. She was better at giving it to others. Reassuring Powder. Reaming Mylo and Claggor's asses. Rallying behind Vander. She never considered asking for the same, not from her family, not from any of her girlfriends. Not since she'd been a little girl, encircled by her mother's arms.
Home.
Shivering, Vi holds on to Caitlyn as long as she can.
It's where she's happiest, in the end.
***
Of all the nooks in his headquarters, Silco has taken a fancy to the Laguna Lounge.
It is on the twelfth floor: a cantilevered section that angles out from the skyscraper, all chrome and double-glazed glass. It is fitted with aluminum oxynitride. Sleeker and less heavyweight than traditional bulletproof glass, but twice as effective at preventing explosives.
The rest of the rooms on the floor are too barren. Too different from the neon-lit secrecy of the Last Drop. Only this chamber, with its glazed twilit eeriness, feels tolerable.
It is spacious: a lounge, a bar, a bedroom. The interior is an Art Noveau wonderland—ribbons of wallpaper in faded gold-on-blue damask, wooden floors glowing beneath a crystalline chandelier, and intricately carved furniture of black-and-gilt. Like most architecture in the Undercity, it's antique: installed around the turn of the century, and never upgraded since. But it's a good place to hold a private meeting, to fix a solitary drink, or to catch a cat-nap.
He's especially partial to the bath: a vast chamber that holds a seashell's inner-echo, all pearlescent green ceramic and bronze fittings. There is a glassed-in rainfall shower at one end, and a huge sunken-in tub at the other.
And, of course, water.
Clean, hot, unspoiled water.
After a long week, it's Silco's habit to decompress here. He's from a time when running water was a luxury. Now he indulges as he pleases. The steam makes a satisfied haze of his thoughts. The hot soak loosens his muscles. Under his breath, he hums The Wave-Soaked Maiden, his voice a languid glide:
Behind her lips, her teeth were sharp/Much sharper than his knives/She said to him, "Come closer, sir/And I'll eat you alive."
Silco is happiest in water.
In boyhood, he and Vander sometimes slipped off to the oxbow near the mines. Together, they'd climb the creaky train-ties of the broken trestle, and plunge in feet-first. They'd dunk each other with hooting glee, racing from one end of the shore to the other. Afterward, Vander would drift along the shallows, with broad strokes of his arms and legs. Silco would arrow gracefully to the deep end, transfixed by the psychedelic shapes at the bottom.
Take care, Blut, Vander would tease. Mermaids might snatch ya!
Silco nearly smiles.
Memory tightens like a chokehold around his neck. Vi's fist explodes across his retinas before it distorts into Vander's, the scarred ridge of knuckles wrapping around Silco's neck.
Except Vander is dead.
Vi will follow—once she's served her use.
Idly, Silco traces the mottling of bruises on his chest. His expression doesn't change as he contemplates his plans—or Medarda's attempt to blockade them. She's proven quite the chess-queen. In her natural milieu, she’s doubtless a social mastermind; plucking other’s desires like harpstrings.
Doubtless, too, she imagines their blood bargain the same. She’ll play Silco, not as a partner, but a proxy from the shadows. A cipher to keep her family matter from catalyzing a war. If there’s a screw-up, Silco will take a fall; if it goes smoothly, she’ll terminate their arrangement. In the first instance, she keeps her impunity; in the second, she severs the connection.
Silco is ready to play. Not play ball—play along. Her means will serve his ends. For Zaun, and its coffers.
But the real jackpot is Medarda.
On the yacht, he'd seen past her armature of glossy poise into a nucleus of raw neuroses. All the world's wealth at her fingertips, and yet her conflict is base. Mother versus motherland. Silco has known his share of outcasts. One of their most enduring pathologies is the breakage of identity, as war breaks a map.
At Piltover's zenith politically, Medarda is still, at her core, the daughter discarded. So much of her choices stem from proving her mother wrong. On being everything her mother is, and is not. That's why she backed Talis' Hex-tech; that's why she took the boy as a protégé. The Hex-Gates have transcended barriers. They have reshaped history. They have lent Piltover a touch of immortality.
Power in the guise of progress.
But power, on its own, is an incomplete identity. Negation of the inner-wound fills the true void.
Silco’s good eye narrows. He’s glimpsed the wound. He’ll trace it painstakingly to its root. Then all he needs is an opening. Something to slice through decades of emotional callus, so he can access the human beneath. And all humans are fallible.
Unlike monsters.
Shaking out a cigarette from the silver cigar case at the tub's edge, Silco lights up. His body in the fogged-up mirror is utilitarian. Taut and tapered, sinews visible under scarred flesh. A pared-down body, he thinks of it—everything superfluous sliced away. From time to time, he misses the spryness of his youth. But this is the cost of survival, and Silco wears it like a badge of honor.
Like the shrapnel wounds from the Day of Ash. Like the razor cuts from a Stillwater ambush. Like the chemical splatters from the mines.
Like the black-pitted ruin of his left eye.
From behind the half-open bedroom door, low sobbing ebbs. Silco's vantagepoint offers him a narrow vignette of crisp white sheets. Two bodies occupy his bed. One half is dark skin and sultry curves. A young woman; fast asleep. The other half is sun-freckled muscle and red curlicues of hair. A young man; weeping facedown in the pillows.
Both are Silco's regulars.
Not from the brothels, but his own network.
The Undercity is a hotbed of prostitution. In the mercantile era, the illicit trade thrived on the backs of boys and girls trafficked into slavery. Then came the Void Wars, and a never-ending crawl of bodies seeking sanctuary from the horrors of sorcery. Piltover became a magnet for well-to-do emigres. Their social shadows, the refugees, circled down the drain into the Fissures. In time, they became their own social strata: perpetual outsiders caught in a continuum of servitude.
Most fell back on the oldest profession of all.
By Vander's heyday, most Trenchers were hardened to the sight of naked bodies on display in the neon glare of brothel lanterns. For some, it was an attractive career choice—an alternative to the drudgery of factorywork or menial labor. For others, it was an escape hatch from the misery of living hand-to-mouth. They dressed the service up with pretty euphemisms: pleasure parlors, love menageries, botanical gardens.
The bottom line was human bondage.
By the time the Hex-Gates opened, the Undercity's sex industry had begun cooking itself down under the pressures of breakneck progress. Bodies were pushed beyond any semblance of desirability into the walking equivalent of meat-suits. In the clubs, girls ejected pingpong balls from their cunts, and boys shot high-velocity jism down their throats. In the street-corners, they descended on lone strollers like mosquitoes, a desensualized horde of high-heeled boots and leather-studded jackets whipped open to flaunt wares decked in piercings, needle marks and scars.
There was commerce but no carnal desire. Only the perversity of market forces; the insatiable appetite of capital. Nobody was getting off, but everyone was hustling to get ahead, get paid, get out.
There was no way out.
As the Hex-Gates yawned wide, the Undercity's future shrank, choking on Topside's hubris. By the time Silco took control of the Lanes, the sex trade had reached saturation point. If not for his commandeering of the criminal underbelly, the brothels would've gone belly up. Instead, through foreign business-deals and local back-alley bargains, Silco leveraged his influence to transform them into exclusive enterprises.
Today, every tart—whether lounging in the high-end saloons at the Promenade or plying trade in the slush-filled alleyways of Factorywood—belongs to a particular house. They are of varying quality, but each one has been remodeled from a den of insalubrious sleaze into a boutique establishment catering to a different niche.
From ale-house beer to vintage wine, as the Undercity saying goes.
There is Babette's, the oldest brothel in town, whose madam maintains cordial ties with every crime syndicate. There is The Vyx, the luxurious pleasure-house run by Margot, where local chem-royalty rub shoulders with foreign potentates. There is The Cream, which caters to tastes on the farthest edge of forbidden, its workers as talented as they are transgressive.
Each house has a unique flavor—like a slice of pie. Some offer only the tenderest morsels. Others serve a variety of platters. The dishes go by names that tie them to each establishment. Babette's workers have monikers like Sweetmeat or Angel Puff. The Vyx prefers tongue-in-cheek designations like Chastity and Prudence. The Cream has no names, only numbers—Six, Ten, Twenty.
There are many flavors of tart—but few who are truly exceptional. Those rarities are from Silco's own ranks.
The Eye of Zaun owns a share in every brothel, and a piece of every vice imaginable. And yet, he solicits no services from the establishments themselves. No pets or playmates. Not even rumors of a mistress.
Predictability leads to patterns. Men with patterns are targets.
Rather, Silco prefers a totem pole of trophies. None are locals. His talent is imported from Ionia or the allied continents. At the bottom are his Tarts on a Tea Tray. Floozies, flunkies and flings. Higher up, his Fleeting Fancies. Boys and girls game for a dirty weekend or two. Directly above are his Assets. Promising individuals groomed to serve his needs—businesswise and in the bedroom.
He runs them like his factory foremen. Staying apprised on their performances, paying their expenses, cultivating their skills—then dispatching them for special jobs. Some employ their talents in blackmail. Others infiltrate rival gangs. The cleverest spy on foreign powers. They pry political tidbits from Piltovan lips, glean shipping intel from Ionian diplomats, finesse battle strategies from Noxian warmasons.
For their loyalty, Silco grants protection.
And, for the right cost?
Freedom.
His latest Asset goes by The Maven. A former tart from Babette's, she'd left for Bilgewater’s brighter shores. There, she'd been a pirate lord's paramour for seven years, until he'd jettisoned her. She'd ended up back in Zaun: plying her trade as a lowly barmaid under the Vyx’s indenture.
Sevika had pointed her out to Silco at one of Margot's bashes. She had a good eye for pretty girls. She knew what Silco liked. She also knew how he operated. In the guise of kindness, Sevika offered to pay off the girl's debt. She'd been too ecstatic to question whose pockets were deep enough to cover the cost.
Until Sevika introduced her to Silco.
The girl had been petrified. But Silco was faultlessly polite—unlike most chem-barons who were content to win favors by force. The first week, he took her out to the Blue Note for drinks. She'd been braced for sexual demands, but he treated her as any woman whose company he was enjoying. The following week, he invited her to an exhibition of deadly orchids at Chross' hothouse. By the third date, she'd met half the Undercity's chem-royalty. By the fourth, she'd been gifted jewelry: an old-fashioned clasp necklace that stored vials of poison. By the fifth, she'd discreetly dispatched a shipping tycoon who was holding up Silco's Shimmer-cargo.
By the month's end, she'd moved into a penthouse suite near the Skylight Commercia.
On Silco's payroll full-time.
Tonight, she lolls splendidly nude in his bed. A siren's body: breasts to kill for, legs to die for. Long black hair and smooth skin have always done a number on Silco. No piercings: his distaste for body-art is well known. No tattoos, either; he reserves those for his war-dogs in the trenches.
The only marks on her skin are red crescents from Silco’s teeth.
Next to her, the boy sports the same marks. A brazen thing. He'd been a farmhand from the azure fields of Navori. After crossing a feudal lord in a rigged game of cards, he’d fled to Zaun. Silco had taken a shine to him right off. Big strapping hulks are always worth the taming.
He’d put the lad in charge of running errands for favored clientele. Before long, he was working security at the Vyx, and reporting directly to Silco on its goings-on. But a year of the good life spoiled him. He'd developed a habit of dipping into Silco’s coffers for petty cash. Silco had hoped he might be smarter. He keeps hoping one of them will possess a modicum of loyalty.
But no. He’s like the rest—and must pay the cost.
Now the boy sprawls facedown in bed. Sweat glistens down the undulant gradation of his spine and gleams off the curve of his reddened buttocks. His thighs and biceps are stamped with oozing red half-moons. Wounded pride is writ large across his features. He'd fought Silco every inch of the way, defiant and smart-mouthed—right until his mouth was too full of anything but cries and cock.
A tall silhouette appears in the bathroom door.
"In a mood, sir?"
Silco takes a drag from the cigarette, smoke pouring insinuatingly from his lips. "Past tense."
"Never past tense with you."
Sevika leans against the doorjamb. The carpet behind her is a war-path of debauchery: curls of used condoms, the butt of a half-smoked cigarillo, the gleaming curvature of a strap-on. Folded into a white robe, she resembles nothing so much as a goddess in a hellscape.
There is nothing holy about Sevika’s eyes. Only a gleam of half-lidded menace.
She dons the same look during the games with his whores. She goes at them without mercy—a dragon on a leash. That is part of the game too. Once Silco is done playing master-of-ceremonies, she retreats to the background, watching him savage his prey. Sharper teeth than hers; a more slowly savored cruelty. Yet all throughout, she keeps her distance, and her silence.
Only in the aftermath does she transition from one absolute to the other.
Sevika's eyes trace the bruises on his chest. Her expression shades a degree. "Hurts?"
Silco shrugs.
"I know goading Vi into an attack was the plan. But did you need to play it that close?"
"Best way to determine if she's worth the investment."
"Ever heard of keeping a mad dog on a short leash?"
Silco's smile is a flash of jagged bone. "What good's a dog that can't bite?"
A private joke; no joke at all.
Sevika smiles back, but her shadows don't dispel. Last night with Vi, he'd cut it close. Now, with Medarda, he's skating dangerously thin. Sevika is no stranger to his schemes. She also knows that in the act of laying each piece on the gameboard, he can veer from ruthless pragmatism to reckless ambition, so focused on success that he can overlook anything extraneous to the long-term goal.
Part of Sevika's duty as XO is to keep him grounded. Physical stimuli worked best once: a fight, a suckjob, a fuck. It did the trick years ago, when he was just Sil from the Lanes. Sensation had kept him steady; no time to think. Afterwards, played out, he'd actually sleep through the night.
But Sil is long dead, and with him the stupid simplicity of the mind-body dichotomy. Silco has resurfaced with different appetites entirely. Sensation lends no sense of splitting. More a depthless hollow space, that can never be filled. That space being his mind.
It's taken Sevika time to understand what’s returned wearing half Sil's face—and to suit his desires accordingly.
Flesh isn't enough. He needs to taste blood.
"If it were me in that tent—" she warns.
"You'd have tried killing me straight off," Silco finishes. "Fortunately, we've passed that stage."
"And Vi?"
"She's passed too." A shadow-smile. "With flying colors."
One-handed, he beckons. An old shorthand: Time for business.
Cued, Sevika perches on the tub's edge. Her robe is half-open. He can see the curve of one breast, the groove of muscle down her stomach. Unlike the whores, her skin is unmarked by bites. But he knows exactly where the scars sit on smooth bronze skin.
Ownership has different modes. So do secrets.
He and Sevika don't speak. They sign. In mixed company, the Eye of Zaun prefers his language clean. Not in the sense of no profanity, but in the sense of direct orders. Everything is subtext; everything is between the lines.
All the better to strangle loose ends with.
Sevika warns, You're taking a lot of risks.
Playing nursemaid again?
Just reminding you of limits.
Silco draws on his cigarette. The ember flares in the steam like his bad eye.
Limits are a byword for denial, he signs back. Zaun's had its fill of that.
Zaun's had its fill of corpses too.
He nixes this with a jet of smoke. The blackguard’s death was unfortunate. But consider the payout. His family will receive lifelong compensation from Topside. Meanwhile, we now have the Council's ear—and our demands squarely addressed. The next step is securing the means to make them stick.
Through this bargain with Medarda.
And Vi. Silco lolls back in the tub, watching her through the glitter of mismatched eyes. She will remain in Piltover for three months. The administrative suspension will keep her out of Zaun's borders.
What if she stirs up trouble off-duty?
The Council will hold an inquest into the blackguard's death. The runaround will keep her busy.
And the Noxian warmason?
Three months will give our Maven enough time to learn his patterns. She'll pass his progress on to Lock. But I need you to keep her focused. This man and his cadre are a brutal bunch. If she falters, they will kill her without hesitation.
Sevika's jaw grits.
Silco knows she would prefer a simpler problem set. Something more straightforward than a tangled network of intrigue. There are too many variables when spinning a circle dance.
But that's the price with a nation stake.
Sevika signs, You think Vi will be useful?
She's the right resource. Unattached. Neither ours, nor truly the Council's. Swain is clever. If we use our own men to pick his agents off, he will notice a pattern. A wild card like Vi will keep him guessing. We want him focused on what's happening on their side—while we work to obscure what's happening on ours.
Lots of costs to consider.
If we play this right, so are the rewards.
He proffers his cigarette. Sevika accepts a drag. She smells of him, in his robe, and underneath she smells of sex. But her stare is devoid of the usual post-fuck glow. Only wariness inhabits the darkness. His XO can go months on an even keel. But all the while that streak of stubborn good sense simmers away.
No choleric displays, but if she's got a point to make, then she'll be hell-bent on making it.
She's dangerous, she signs, You realize that, right?
She's reckless. She has so much rage, she can't control it. Even if it's in her best interests.
I mean Medarda.
Silco crooks one eyebrow.
That's twice she's trapped you into doing what she wants. Now she's even drawn you into this business with Swain.
Their business benefits Zaun.
But do you need her alliance more, or does she need yours?
The cigarette dangles from Silco's fingers, smoke spindling in the steam. What are you implying?
Sevika is quiet for a moment. They’ve shared all the flavors of hell together. But their roles remain ironclad. Her territory is the brass tacks, and he seldom encroaches it. Likewise the big picture remains shadowy, even to her.
That is Silco's sole domain.
Sevika's eyes consult his face; she takes the gamble. You've made a killing out of getting people to work for you. But the Medardas are in a league of their own. They've finessed deals between nations while we were struggling with gang warfare. They don't kill for real things like territory or survival, either. They kill for status. I'm not saying you can't handle her. But it's worth considering whether you should.
You think I'll lose my grip?
Try your head.
Silco takes a lungful of smoke, and with the same hand reaches over Sevika's left shoulder—the cigarette’s ember sings perilously close to her temple—and balances it on the ashtray by the sink. Their eyes meet. Sevika's body-language speaks sparingly. But her frown is always frank. She's frowned a lot these last six months.
Gratitude is not in Silco's vocabulary. Everything comes down to cost and reward. But Sevika deserves a modicum all the same.
His palm aligns with her jaw. She meets his stare steadily. But he feels the kick of her pulse. It's a soft touch; an IOU for acts and words not soft at all.
"The day I give them a chance to take my head," he says, "is the day you make Zaun's bed in the next fresh grave."
"I hope that's not the end-game, sir."
"It's a starting point."
"Meaning?"
"Means what it means."
His thumb strokes her mouth, copping a feel. Sevika's sigh becomes a hum. Her own shorthand: Yes.
They don't kiss. Still balanced on the tub, Sevika leans in. Her black locks disentwine from her top-knot. Damp tangles unravel around Silco's face, doused with the aroma of smoke and sweat and brightleaf. She presents her breasts. Her nipples are tight rosettes. The left shows a faint calligraphy of Shimmer-veins, luminous in the half-light.
Silco cups the breast in his hand, feeling its soft heat. Takes the nipple between his teeth. She shudders as his tongue whorls along its pebbled surface. She likes it rough, but only if he lets her choose how hard. In that, she has nothing in common with his whores. Her body doesn't cater to his tastes. Her desires aren't tailored to his.
Right now, that's what Silco needs.
With the other wet spidering hand, he traces the inside of her thigh. His palm grasps her cunt—a tender pooch hidden in dark fleece. She is burning-hot and sopping-wet. The sensation startles him every time. She is everywhere scarred and solid. But between her thighs is a dirtysweet secret of purest silk.
Sevika's lips part; she expels a low hoarse moan. Her breath comes with small catches, like beads through a string. Watching her come is always intriguing. It starts with the same brute intensity as when she is slamming down foes. It ends with the softest rippling tremors, like when she is falling asleep. The sharp topography of her face melts. Her eyes go half-lidded: from ready to fight to dreaming of sunlight.
And when she turns her head six degrees to the right, she becomes almost beautiful. Full of tiny tells of truth in a business of its opposite.
Right now, Silco needs that, too.
Sevika gives a sharp cry as she convulses, thighs clamping around his rigid hand; her second cry is softer, her body unraveling into relaxation.
Silco withdraws his fingers. They are dripping wet.
"Better?"
Snorting, she shakes her head.
"Still?"
"Gets this way before the curse hits," she says. "Every nut makes it worse."
“Poor you.”
"Or them."
In the bedroom, the boy and girl lay curled together. The disturbed silence in the bathroom has roused them.
Sevika signs, Time to send 'em off?
A not-quite-smile twists Silco's lips.
He nods.
Sevika cracks a sharp whistle. The whores jerk. The Maven sits up, pushing the dark hair out of her face. Her drowsy demeanor morphs into an enchanting smile.
In Va-Nox, she calls out, "War das genug oder willst du mehr?"
Lazily, Silco crooks a finger.
She obeys. Her long legs sashay-stagger toward the bath. She kneels by the tub, hands in her lap, demure as a pussycat. Between her breasts, a pendant gleams. Silco’s gift; bearing the Eye’s insignia. She is seldom without it except when undercover. In the lamplight, it becomes a sly erotic adornment.
"Du hast mir so gut getan," she purrs, "dass ich Monatelang krumm herumlaufen wird."
Whore-bluff, but she says it with such sincerity. Silco’s lessons have worked wonders.
Playing along, he tips his chin toward Sevika. "Wer ist besser," he asks, "sie oder ich?"
"Wenn ich mich für einen entscheide," Maven rejoins smoothly, "verliere ich den anderen."
Silco's notched lip curls. A good answer.
That's why he keeps her around.
Gracefully, Maven joins Sevika on the tub's edge. Her hands span the breadth of Silco’s shoulders, expertly kneading. She knows well enough to avoid his neck. In a wrong mood, he can invert from stillness to savagery. But not here. Here, no inch of Silco's skin counts as a vulnerable spot.
These nights are about a different need entirely.
In Standard, Maven asks: "Shall you have my report?"
Silco nods.
She is a polyglot both off and on her feet. Fluent in the arts of Demacian, Shuriman and Piltovan—i.e. in the cunt, up the arse, down the throat. The latter two are Silco's favorites of long-standing: less mess, and more peace of mind. But Maven speaks real languages too. Her Va-Nox is impeccable. So is her Efric.
It's a convenience for Silco: pleasure and practice in one place. It also makes her a useful scenery prop during meetings with foreign envoys. Her pretty ears stay pricked for exchanges in the background.
"Our Noxian warmason," Silco says. "Is he enjoying the scenery?"
She nods. "He visit the Vyx. I service him with another girl."
"Serviced. Anything of interest to share?"
"He write a letter."
"To?"
"His wife. To tell her he will be… be away."
"Why to his wife of all people?"
"She is... she is... Wie sagt man schwanger?"
"Pregnant."
"She is pregnant. He will be a father. Five years."
"Months."
"Month bedeutet Monat?"
"Hm."
"Oh, das ist leicht zu merken." She smiles a little. "He will be a father. Five months. So he write a letter in Efric. He write second letter in Va-Nox, with address to Piltover."
"Where in Piltover?"
"Bluewind Court."
"Their diplomatic quarters?" Silco muses. "Interesting."
"I made copy of both letters. I already gave to Lock."
Satisfied, Silco nods. The plan is in motion. The variables are volatile, but their motivations are predictable. In that predictability, Silco can employ safeguards.
And for the rest?
Wildcards.
Coyly, Maven whispers, "Soll ich den Jungen wecken?"
Silco glances back at the doorway. The boy lays still, framed by the oblong glow from the bedroom lanterns.
Silco's smile shows the barest bite.
"Noch lebt?" he calls out.
The boy shudders. His eye, red-rimmed, peeps out from a disorder of curls. Silco brings the cigarette to his lips and takes a drag, but never removes his own his eye off the boy's. Watches the flush creep up his face, a rising tide of adrenaline.
He's always relished the effect his mismatched stare has. How it can turn a burly swain into a jellified mannequin.
Hoarsely, the boy says, "What—what d'you want?"
"You. At my own time."
The boy is too petrified to move. None of the Eye of Zaun's playthings are under illusions of his compassionate nature. But they are paid to take him as he is—a monster with a penchant for pain.
Silco snaps his fingers. Reflexively, the boy jerks to his feet.
He crosses over, with an inebriated side-to side that echoes the Maven's stagger. Silco smiles grimly. He's had them both every way to Sunday, but his body's no musket. He's got a spare round left. Blame a three-week deficit paired with the side-effects of the new Shimmer-strain.
He'll reload, discharge, and get back to work.
That's another reason the Laguna Lounge is convenient. His toys are delivered ribbon-wrapped to his doorstep. His crew stand guard outside. They escort the guests in and out at a moment's notice.
No imposters stealing in. No assassins sneaking out.
His office at the Last Drop was less ideal for assignations. Especially with Jinx skulking in the rafters. Or hiding under his desk. Or stealing into his closet.
His child was naturally gifted at spy games. Silco's lessons had perfected the rest. The problem was that once Jinx became adept at spying, she weaponized it for her own ends. During wharfside negotiations with rival gangs, she'd creep along the rooftops to eavesdrop. During his meetings with Marcus, she'd hang from the rafters. During her Night Stalker phases, she'd even pounce on unsuspecting guests in the VIP lounges.
It could be quite inconvenient, as when someone would lean in to speak with Silco—only to leap away in a shrieking apoplexy when sludge dripped from the vents to splatter their heads, while a disembodied voice boomed—"Keep your cooties to yourself!"
Sevika branded Jinx a possessive freak. Silco begs to differ.
Deep down, his child is a sensitive little body. Vi's abandonment left her fearful of a reprise. In the early days, Silco had to finesse his way around Jinx's moods before even contemplating a block of uninterrupted adult-time. He still remembers the first—and only—time she'd caught him in bed with one of his whores. Eleven years old and honing her skills at sneaking about (the girl crept like a phantom!) to pop up at his door with a cry of "Boo!"
When she realized what she'd stumbled upon, her face cycled through a dozen shades of scarlet.
The Psychickers call it The Primal Scene.
Silco calls it a bloody nuisance.
Girding his hips with a sheet, he'd primly escorted Jinx to her own room. In the morning, he'd found her cross-legged with a pile of trinkets. She'd X'd out all of their eyes with tape, and refused to meet Silco's own. It was mystifying. She wasn't an ignoramus—by eleven most sumpsnipes knew all about the bats and bees.
So why was she so silent?
Later, Silco heard that someone had dumped a bucket of corrosive chemicals on the whore. The boy leapt out of the way—barely. His hair was badly scalded. On the rooftop, the perpetrator had left a calling card. A monkey-face spray-painted in neon green.
Jinx never hid her handiwork.
Sevika told Silco to punish the brat by lopping her hair off. She needed to be taught that actions had consequences. Except there seemed no bigger consequence than Jinx herself. Later that day, Silco found her in their quarters, gripped by a fit. That was the only way to describe it—a fit. Mother had them from time to time. Her eyes would darken into black-noise. She'd start throwing books and glasses and candles. She wouldn't speak except in garbled shrieks.
In those moments, she was a stranger. Nobody Silco knew at all.
Jinx's fit was different. A dirge of despair so pure it couldn't survive except as rage. A rage so familiar it was like a cracked mirror. A reflection of all Silco’s old cuts. She didn't respond when he called her name. She threw toys and trinkets helter-skelter. She thrashed and snarled when he grabbed her. Her sharp little teeth sank into his wrist.
Flesh wasn't enough. She'd needed to taste blood.
It took hours to calm her down. She'd wept and babbled and wept, before subsiding into exhaustion. In the morning, Silco opted to stay at their quarters. He'd made Jinx's favorite confetti-sprinkled waffles. Handled her gently, using soothing tones. At last, between cheerless bites of breakfast, Jinx had at first evaded, then equivocated, then yielded the truth.
Was she frightened by what she'd walked in on last night? Nope. Upset? Ummm... maybe. Why? 'Cause Vander never had anyone over. Correction, child. Vander had plenty of boys and girls over. They just handled their business in the ginnel. Well—why do you have boys over? Grown-ups have needs. I'll be grown up soon. So you will. So you won't need more friends, right? My lovely, you misunderstand... Will you leave me? Why would I do that? 'Cause he slept there. Slept where? My Safe Spot.
Jinx's Safe Spot.
The three-quarters of mattress Silco had allotted for her nightmares.
Oh, Silco realized.
She'd had a bad dream, and he wasn't there. She'd wanted comfort, and he'd shut her out. An unfamiliar emotion—remorse?—curdled his gut.
Under a gentle palm, Silco smoothed her hair.
That spot is yours, he said. For as long as you want it.
And you—?
Me? A bittersweet smile touched his lips. Always.
Jinx pounced tearfully into his arms. But he still remembers the look on her face. The dread that he'd turn her away. Abandon her altogether. To Silco it verged on unthinkable. Yet it was also a reminder of Jinx's fragility. Like all fragilities, it must be handled with care.
Afterward, he'd never allowed a stranger into his and Jinx's quarters again.
So: yes.
The Laguna Lounge is convenient.
Nearly as convenient as the tub, large enough for four heat-slicked bodies. Nearly as convenient as the buoyancy of mass in water; effortlessly malleable. Nearly as convenient as the soundproofed tiles, absorbing the reverberations of the boy's and girl's cries.
Water sloshes everywhere. Their shapes are joined in a twisting chimera. The boy is trapped between Silco and Sevika. Two dark bookends with his body like a pale parenthesis in between. Silco grips him back-to-front, shoving slowly up the boy's ass. It's a doddle: a lubricated sheath, and he is already nicely loosened up.
Silco isn't particularly gentle about it. Just steady. The boy begs and bleats through every inch of it. His spasming shoulderblades cut into Silco's chest. Hips jerking forward, grinding back, again and again. Meanwhile, the Maven guides the boy's pretty wrapped prick between Sevika's splayed thighs. It's only sporting. All evening Silco left it untouched, even as it stood stiffly upright against its owner's belly. Twice, it had splattered the sheets with spunk from everything Silco was subjecting him to—ever the bridesmaid; never the bride.
Now its patience has paid off.
Silco feels the moment Sevika takes the boy in—a subvocal tremor through his chest and out of her mouth. Bracing her strong elbows against his shoulders, she rolls her hips, a hypnotic sway. She knows exactly how to move, how to match the changing rhythm. A born fighter; just one syllable short of a natural dancer. Meanwhile the Maven displays her specialty, slithering frictionlessly in between bodies, soft fingers here, softer tongue there. Everything she does is slow, deliberate, exquisite. Eager to earn her tip.
That's another reason Silco keeps her around.
Lazily, he withdraws, all that hot flesh slipsliding, only the flared head clutched by the taut ring of muscle. The boy makes a begging sound, swaying backwards instead of forwards—and Silco knows he has him. He slams back in, a snapping swivel that makes the poor bastard shudder all over, mouth loosing delirious croons.
The rhythm is all Silco's now. He rides into the boy from behind with rapid, brutal, merciless thrusts—every upstroke shoving the boy's cock deeper into Sevika, knocking sharp cries from both their throats, a jittery tenor to a jarred contralto. They are each in a zone of single-minded greed now. The boy scrabbles frantically at the tub's surface, bracing himself. Sevika grinds back against him without mercy, taking what she needs. She is rigid from top to toe, a dark flush blotching her skin, hands clutching at the boy's shoulders, before reaching across to reflexively pluck at Silco's.
Silco shoves in deeper—the boy howls—and reels Sevika in by a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck. Again, they don’t kiss. He bites her throat, gnaws the humid crook where her pulse throbs. Between them, the boy is already starting to spend, with breathy helpless sounds like a virgin overcome.
Not that Silco gives a toss either way. He redoubles his thrusts. Slick skin on skin, the boy's crucified body just a proxy now. A meat puppet dragged along for the ride. Grunting with frustration, Sevika rocks against the softening heft of the boy’s cock. He’s finished, Silco is nearly there, but her own body is lagging behind. On a rare impulse of generosity, Silco reaches around the boy's torso and wedges a hand between her thighs. Her clit pulses between his pinching fingers. Her thighs spasm; she comes with a sharp oversensitized snarl.
A moment later Silco yanks the Maven in, sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She shrieks, the boy sobs—and Silco seizes up and spills.
Afterward, the whores lay sprawled like corpses in the tub. Their pretty faces are glassy-eyed; pretty bodies splay-limbed. The bite-marks turn the bathwater a delicate pink. Neither one is good as dead. But they are no longer good for much.
Idly, Silco gestures for a towel. Sevika obeys. Climbing out, he dries off, the water streaming off him. His movements are insouciant despite his nudity. Snipers in the shadows; assassins in the corners—these are seldom his preoccupations.
The deadliest killers lurk in plain sight.
Humming, Sevika comes out behind him. Devil’s Got the Blues. She still has license to touch him—but she won't. Once the games are done, they both expect permission for such things, unspoken but stark.
Instead, she relights his half-smoked cigarette, passing it over. Taking a lungful, Silco exhales a satisfied stream.
"Well done."
It's shorthand for: Get them out.
Fully-dressed, Sevika oversees the whores' departure. She rarely considers these tasks any different from patrolling the streets. Something done for the maintenance of order. Part of her role as XO. If she harbors any further complexity of judgement, Silco has never witnessed it.
And Silco, who has entirely too much complexity in his life, approves.
The Maven is seen off with an affectionate pat to the arse. Giggling, she kisses Sevika's cheek, then imparts a more respectful nod to Silco. His crew will keep him apprised on her progress with the warmasons.
Before the boy can follow her out, Sevika stops him.
"What now?" he asks, almost a whine.
Sevika replies, "The Boss wanted to tip you extra."
A glint of greed enters the boy's stare. Even without past misadventure to disqualify him, this barefaced show of self-interest is enough to pass the sentence.
In the corner, Silco snaps his fingers.
On Pavlovian reflex, the boy turns. The moment he does, Sevika seizes his arm, yanks it taut, and snaps. Howling, the boy drops to his knees.
Silco, calmly dressing, and preoccupied with locating a missing cufflink, spares the barest glance.
"Remind me," he says to Sevika, "what spoils a good fuck?"
"Dying," Sevika replies.
"And what's the reward for disloyalty."
"Dying," Sevika repeats, and gives the boy's arm a vicious twist.
He screams, a high keening wail.
Silco crooks a finger. Sevika desists.
Half-dressed—red shirt, black trousers—Silco threads gold cufflinks through the buttonholes. There is no anger in his movements, but that means nothing. The monster has stirred awake. It inhabits every lineament of Silco’s frame. It is in his body-language; slow, measured, precise. In his voice; the smoothness abraded down to a slither. In his eyes; with their dark gleam of ruminant bloodlust.
As he said—flesh isn't enough. He needs to taste blood.
"You," Silco says, "were skulking at the outpost near my suite yesterday."
"I-I was just—"
"Spying for someone. Your camera obscura is in our custody."
The boy's breath hitches. The exact sound he makes whenever Silco grips him by the bollocks.
"Can you say it?" Silco’s voice holds the softness of bloodstained velvet. "Can you give the name of the one who bribed you?"
“I—”
“Because I think you should say her name first. It makes matters simpler. Don’t you agree?"
Defeated, the boy says, "M-Margot."
“Dear Margot. What’s got her so curious about my private affairs?"
The boy swallows. His eyes pass over Silco's face, like fingertips tracing for seams in an impenetrable mask. There are none.
He dares, "Jinx."
The silence stretches tight as a noose.
Hastily, the boy says, "Margot and the—the chem-barons want to know her whereabouts. So do folks on the streets. They say—"
"Hm?"
A tiny vein beats at the side of the boy's neck. "They say she's dead. You hid her bones."
"To pick my teeth with?"
"In exchange for—for the Hex-gem."
Silco trades a glance with Sevika. Her expression shows disgust but no shock. Caught up in these infernal games with Piltover, Silco’s attention toward his inner-circle has been remiss. Now they're creeping in from the corners, eager for gaps in his armor. That's the trouble with politics. Every moment one faces a forked road; a choice between two theoretical extremes of risk.
Meanwhile, the real nuisances are closest to home.
In the mirror, Silco arranges his hair, slicking it back with pomade before shaping it with a comb. The routine task is a backdrop for black plans. When he's done, he resembles any well-heeled Topsider ready for a night out in town. Not that a Topsider could so much as knot his own cravat, let alone dress in a half-minute without a manservant's assistance.
Silco is no Topsider. Not even a pale imitation.
Zaun plays by different rules.
One-handed, Silco gestures. Sevika's blade juts out from her prosthetic arm, a glowing-hot flash. Before the boy can react, it cuts a lightning arc across his throat. There is a sound not unlike butter on a hot skillet. A gaping slash appears across the boy's throat. The torn edges sizzle.
His eyes widen in shock. Then they glaze over, and he slumps. Blood oozes from the gash. Not much. Sevika's blade was so superheated it cauterized the wound. She knows Silco's distaste for messes.
Pity the chem-barons missed the memo.
Sevika grabs a handful of tissues from a box on the sink. Kneeling, she wads them into the boy's seeping throat. Then she seizes him under the armpits and drags him away. Outside, Lock is waiting with a body-bag. The corpse will be delivered back to the Vyx—and straight to Margot's doorstep.
No shorthand necessary. The chem-barons will get the message.
Stay away from Jinx.
Jinx—who is asleep in Silco’s suite.
Nestled under the blanket, she is radiant in repose, girlish and soft-looking. In the old days, lamplit, she used to put Silco in mind of the Celestials from old myth. Real flesh; warm and living. And yet somehow otherworldly too.
Without sound, Silco glides past the bed and lays his silver smoking case on the dresser. He snaps it open, clicks the hidden compartment, and stares spellbound. Blue fractals of light suffuse the ambient dark. The Hex-gem glows like a stolen comet.
Glows like Jinx.
She's won him a nation—and this gem was merely a means to that end. The prism to channel the mad colors of Jinx's pure rage, and set Piltover ablaze. As if Jinx herself is the spark of magic; the gem only amplifies her power.
Power.
The word is Zaun's lifeblood, and Silco possesses it. Destruction incarnate. Beauty inviolate.
He holds it in his palms. And it thrills him.
Terrifies him.
Because when absolute power manifests, there are no ifs or Buts. It is all or nothing. That's why Piltover is eyeing up his affairs, while the chem-barons sniff after his secrets. That's why Noxus is angling for alliances in the guise of conquest. Same as Bilgewater. Same as Ionia. Same as every other bastard vying for a piece of the pie.
With two fingers, Silco rubs the skin at his left temple. His bad eye burns like fire.
Like rage.
A kingpin's throne isn't won with mercy. It is seized with savagery—in deed and reputation. For years, Silco has fed both with fresh blood. He is adept at playing his enemies, and preying on what they hold dear. In the Promenade, jukebox musicals play Mack the Knife to allude to his ruthless rise to the top. In the Sumps, they don't sing at all; they whisper from firsthand accounts.
He's never concerned himself with going too far. The essence of power is going further than anyone else dares.
Politics is different. One's sway must be more diffuse. For that, it's critical to keep a finger on the delicate pulse of his city. Silco's cadre of spies—tarts, pickpockets, hustlers—play a vital role.
But they aren't the crux of his success.
That is Jinx.
To Piltover, she is the catalyst of carnage. To Silco's network, a tool for chaos. But for Silco, she's been a prophetmaker. The girl who broke his empire, then resurrected it. Whose genius cracked the code of magic; whose artistry unlocked the secret of warfare.
She'd made the Eye of Zaun as much as he'd made her.
Same way she'd remade Zaun—from a slag-heap into a metropolis. Once, the Undercity’s social psyche was one of self-defeatist apathy. Chem-barons ruled the roost while Enforcers wielded the bullet, leaving the ordinary Fissurefolk in the cold. Their homes were cramped, their lives short. They scraped together enough coin to buy themselves a bell or two of relief each night. Some sold tools and trinkets. Others sold themselves. But each one coveted the rarest commodity of all: change.
Jinx is change.
For the commoners, she embodies decades of pent-up emotion run rampant. With every bomb, she knocked Piltover's pride down a peg. She unleashed hell above, and they cheered her to high heaven below. In the taverns, chem-punks even composed Get Jinxed with all the pathos of an anthem.
Jinx wasn't a hero so much as a daredevil. And they adored her for it.
Now Zaun is free.
And Jinx has vanished.
Silco has no right to mourn with the masses. And yet he does. Because Jinx isn't gone—and yet she remains so altered in herself, so discombobulated by everything she's endured. Almost six months, and Silco still isn't certain whether she is floating towards recovery, or going deeper around the bend.
Since Zaun's birth, she's gone from loose cannon to loose end in a single agonizing blast.
He stares at himself in the dresser mirror. His good eye is a black hole, the bad one a red pit glowing balefully. She's won him a nation—and broken herself in the bargain. Now Silco must keep his own end. Keep her safe. Safe from Vi, from Piltover, from the threats looming and the nuisances swarming.
Safe from herself?
"Silco?"
When he turns, Jinx has shifted up on one elbow. Neon beams slant from the blinds. Her heavy-lidded eyes hold a feline gloss. A pang goes through Silco. A night spent scheming, and yet the moment he enters the suite, his senses are so full of Jinx that he filters out almost everything else. As if the world, inside and outside, goes mute.
Sanctuary in the eye of chaos.
"Sssh," he soothes. "Go back to sleep."
Her gaze flickers from the smoking case to him. "Where’ve ya been?"
It is as if she knows.
(The Bilgewater dogfight to threaten Vi.)
(The Piltover yacht to bargain with Medarda.)
(The Laguna Lounge to sodomize a pair of whores.)
"Nowhere in particular."
"You smell like a cathouse."
As if she truly knows.
Except—no. It's just Jinx being Jinx. Irreverent, brash, bratty: a collection of volatile impulses distilled down into a fierce purity of heart. She's never, Silco thinks, known a moment's vice in her entire life. Even with blood on her hands. Her every desire is hers, and burns purer than any magic.
Whereas Silco is all vice. All secrets, shadows, scars.
All for her.
He smiles, barely. "How, child, are you so familiar with Eau de Cathouse?"
"Pffft. Like I've never been hit over the head with a fancy cologne bottle." She stares for another second, scrubbing the hair back from her slit-eyed face. Then as if she's flipped a switch, suddenly she is leaning forward, holding her arms out, hands starfished.
"Stay?" she whispers.
Silco hesitates. He is too wired to lay down. Dawn is creeping against a skyline whose contours shimmer. Zaun beckons. So much business left undone. Scores in need of settling and ledgers in need of balancing.
But Jinx...
She needs only him.
Without quite meaning to, Silco removes his coat and stretches out slowly on the bed next to her. Sighing, Jinx nestles closer. Foreheads together; fingers entwined. Her warmth spills like water into the parched dryness of his body. In the mattress's declivity, their shapes meld together.
"Stay," Jinx whispers.
"Always," he whispers back.
By degrees, Jinx drowses off. Her arm holds him in place; her breath makes a moist hot patch across the curve of his throat. On his feet, a touch that triggers nothing but a violent reflex. Here, it’s the most soothing sensation he's yet known. The only one he needs.
His and Jinx's Safe Spot.
Home.
It’s where he’s happiest in the end.
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane fanfic#arcane silco#arcane jinx#arcane vi#arcane caitlyn#arcane sevika#silco#jinx#caitlyn kiramman#sevika#vi#caitvi#vi x caitlyn#sevilco#silco x sevika#fanfic#forward (never forget)/xoxo#forward but never forget/xoxo
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☾ * ―― ᴄᴀɪᴛʟʏɴ & ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ 「 @musesbymarnie 」
≣ Random ask = ❝ okay, how old do you think i am? - from viktor ❞
The young child huffed, not sure why Viktor would ask her such a question, however, she turned her head and started to look at him. Her eyes focused first on his face, the structure of his cheekbones, the tightness of his skin. Taking time to focus on how he looked in age and form. At the same time, she started to walk around him, physically reading everything about him from head to toe. Her eyes keyed in on his hair, looking to see the coloration and structure of the follicles and if she saw anything off or different.
Observant eyes focused on everything she could see, ignoring the disability as it had no subject or view to his age. Despite what people think of her, she was a highly observant child, able to read and know more about people than they ever expected. Returning in front of Viktor, she had a proud smile on her lips as she finally figured out what she thought. "You look to be around your early 20s, I'm going to say maybe, 20 or 21," Caitlyn said, as she settled down in a chair with the interest on if she was right or not. "Am I close, Viktor?" she called him specifically by name, something she always liked that he didn't make her use proper titles or sounded stuffy in terms of positions.
#[muse] caitlyn — interactions.#[pre canon verse] — before the era of hextech.#BAM!#I LOVE OUR PLOTTING IDEA HERE#FSDJAKFL;SA#[muse] caitlyn — answers.#ofwaterandfire
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⌜ @freedomsbounty ⌟ ―― C a i t l y n . & . V i
tw: alcohol abuse
Caitlyn wasn't in a good place. After she visited with Jinx, and the steaming information in her head, she wasn't in a good space of mind. Vi still hadn't been back, and with little else to try and distract herself, she turned to the one thing she usually never did. She went down to the cellar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and then left back to her room. There weren't any glasses to be found, she had one in her room, but she simply undid the cork and lifted it to her mouth.
And chugged.
Two heavy swigs as she felt it burn down her throat, sheering against her skin as she closed her eyes and took a breath. Her fingers ran through her hair as she looked outside of her window. Despite it all, she reached over and locked it (like that would stop Jinx) and lifted the bottle to her lips once more, getting used to the burn. Her feet shifted, feeling the alcohol already starting to dull her senses. Eyes of cyan closed as she placed her hand against her forehead, feeling slightly lightheaded. "That's okay," She mumbled to herself, as she flicked on some music. The instrumental played, violins and unique instruments as she walked from that table over to another one. The bottle lifted to her lips again, ignoring any sort of indication that she should slow down and take it easy. No, she wanted to forget, she wanted to be drunk to the point she couldn't see or feel anything.
To have a moment where she didn't think about it. The problem was, the drunker she became, the more it was on her mind. Jinx was her half-sister. JINX! While she shared no blood relationship to Vi, she did with Jinx. Tobias was Jinx's father. After an hour of drinking, she stumbled back toward the bed, bare feet and the strap of her shirt slide down her shoulder that was slightly tinged in yellow from the small bruise. Glassy eyes struggled to focus to look in the mirror, the purple and black blotches over her cheekbone and down along her cheek, and the purple markings of fingers and a hand against her throat. Even her chest was lined with the same dark blue bruises, Jinx's parting gift from the evening. At least she had left Zaun alive while Jinx thought about the information she had given her.
"Not enough," Caitlyn whispered, lifting the bottle to her mouth again as she felt her ability to keep balance fading away and the clunk of a sound from the door. "Who… is it?" The slurred speech left her lips, turning away so that no one could see her physical appearance, though the yellow tint of her shoulder couldn't be hidden. "You know what… I don't give a fuck. Go. away," She mumbled, lifting the bottle of alcohol and seeing she had drank half of it already. "Hmm…" She hummed, the warmth spreading all over as she set the bottom of the bottle on the bed and just stared outside, looking at her visage through the misty window, the dark sky not having any stars or moon that even. The clouds covered it all, with a drizzle of rain. How ironic, that even the weather seem to reflect her current mood, and lifted the bottle toward it. "Keep on rainin'," She laughed and glanced back down.
"Ya gone yet? I do--don't want company,"
#freedomsbounty#[muse] caitlyn — interactions.#[wolf speaks] — tracker.#thread: truth without#au: half sister
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so a very very rough draft for a reference set of Caitlyn Post Arcane season 1. So some scars (right eyebrow and left jawline), some tattoos on her cheekbones under her eyes. She has sharper canine teeth (implants placed in) and her hair is a bit more 'fluffy' just because I want Caitlyn with fluffy hair XD It matches my other one I'm doing (the second image with color, still unfinished XD)
Anywho, yeah! gunna make it better later. this took me 4 hours just to sketch and figure out so XD
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I just came out as gay a few months ago and I've been seeing this girl who's just LOVELY and it's been so amazing. I didn't know it was possible to WANT to touch people and to want to BE touched. She has cute appley cheekbones and broad shoulders and she wears this bulky heavy leather jacket everywhere she goes. She has eyes like amber. Her favorite show is Arcane and she writes Vi/Caitlyn fanfic. She once took her pet snake to the vet in a baseball cap. She's a locksmith whose car is filled with all these weird, steam age looking contraptions with levers and cranks and shit. She cheated at arm wrestling so she could beat me and it was adorable. She lets me touch her boobs. It's an honor.
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◈ @arcanescion said: ❛ [ BATH ]: sender and receiver, while sharing a bath (either planned or spontaneously) proceed to have sex together while in it. - Vi ❜ // nsfw locations.
Violet had only ever seen herself in fragments. Snippets of flesh reflected in sheets of dark and dusty glass, or in small, cracked mirrors – a patchwork she stitched together in her mind.
Fragile things didn’t last long in Zaun, but in Piltover there were mirrors broad and towering enough to frame an entire person. Gilt-edged and ornate, one was propped in a corner of the marble-walled Kiramman bath chamber. In it, Vi had at last seen herself in her entirety. Bare-bodied, she was scarred and inked and lean, thickened with muscle, cynicism hardening the lines of her face and tightening her jaw. There was an almost-ugliness in residing in skin that was so telling, one that told a story of misfortune and necessity.
Her pale gaze drifted again to that tilted mirror. Now, it held a more distant snapshot. A bath, claw-footed and sloping, the pair entwined together in its enamel gut, lying back to belly. Vi’s head rested against its rim, while Caitlyn roosted on her sternum. Her girlfriend possessed strength too, Violet knew. Rough fingertips rolled over the subtle undulations of her midriff, exploring the widening of her hips, the narrow slip of her waist. Long-limbed and feminine and fierce and hers.
Steam curled around them like so many ghostly tongues, manifesting where the air remained cool. A lingering kiss was pressed to Caitlyn’s temple, then her ear. There Violet murmured tender sweet-somethings, each exhalation arriving hot and slow, every inhalation lining her lungs with her girlfriend’s scent, soaking in the perfume of the crushed marigold heads and peony petals that bobbed in the bathwater. Hands slid upward, over slick skin, to sweep over the pillow-soft of Caitlyn’s breasts. Dusk-rose nipples poked into the callus of her palms – beaded with want, stiffening as they breached the warm water.
Kisses grew heavier, falling on the edges of Caitlyn’s face, her cheekbone, her jaw. Coils of mazarine hair were silky, wet beneath Violet’s lips. Hands descended to stroke over thighs, pressing harder now, expressing desire, a growing appetite. Caitlyn – out of instinct or obedience – parted her bent knees, opening like a flower, as wide as the borders of the bath would allow. Teeth scraped the helix of her ear, Violet delivering praise in a husky whisper:
“Good girl.”
Soft, exploratory touches sifted through soaked curls, gliding fingertips over the seam of her, where she was wetter than the water, slick with the egg white of arousal. A pleased hum purred in Caitlyn’s ear, before Vi dipped her head to feast on her damp neck, nipping and licking and kissing and sucking. Beneath the flower-strewn water, she found her girlfriend’s clit and began to draw lazy circles over it. Slowly, unhurriedly, only growing faster and more insistent when Caitlyn’s breath started to come in little sips, her hands grasping at the bath’s rim. Ripples bounced against the walls of the tub, a passionate churning that threatened to slop over the edge. Violet anchored them together, a tattooed arm slung around Caitlyn’s arching form, hand sliding greedily over her girlfriend’s slippery breasts, the other working her, driving her closer to release.
#let's go lesbians!#thanks for this ♡#◈ — ic; violet#◈ › bonds — ❛ who you choose to bleed for ❜ — violet × caitlyn — arcanescion#◈ — answered#cw: nsft
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Do you love me for who I am, or for what I can do?
Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Vi
Summary: Caitlyn, an actress from Piltover making her way in the film world is conflicted due to others and their expectations and the desire for something as simple as authenticity, and when she's cast into a new movie; she finds someone who represents that, Vi. Vi, someone who has a dream to be a part of the stunt industry and has tried so many times to land a part in a movie, gets what she asks for and even more of that. While on the set, she gets acquainted with Caitlyn. They both start to realize their feelings for one another, but things come in the way and one of those things is the responsibilities that come with fame. Will those things drive the two apart or bring them even closer?
Word Count: 2,464
CW: None
Notes: Hi everyone, I am back again with a slow burn!! I just thought of creating a Catvi actor! au and I researched a bit of League and came to my own conclusions (I don't play the game lol), but I did try my best to make the setting and plot as cohesive as possible and to also expand the surroundings and certain themes. And to those who are waiting on more chapters of my other fics, you will be receiving them as soon as possible, I hope you enjoy reading this!!!!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38837337/chapters/97116957
Caitlyn grimaced, unbelievably anxious. It was so bad that she was almost detached from the reality. Caitlyn turned when she heard the front door open and then heard footsteps and the sound of wheels rolling, her hands flew to twirl her hair in invisible circles. “You’ll get lines if you keep frowning honey,” Her makeup artist stood in the living room of the posh hotel she was staying in, with a makeup train and a team behind her.
It was an onslaught of chatter in the living room, people surrounding her to help her prepare for the Toas, one of the most anticipated awards show ever.
“Have you been using that serum I recommended?” She asked as Caitlyn took a seat at the portable vanity. “Yes, Quinn.” Caitlyn rubbed the velvet on the tulip chair. “And exactly as you said night and day.” Caitlyn watched as Quinn; her makeup artist opened the top chest of her train and reached in for her materials. “Good, it has fibroblasts which produce collagen growth.” She grabbed a small container containing primer, spreading the substance on a small foundation brush. Caitlyn felt her hair become held by one of her stylists. It was wet, Caitlyn being told to wash it beforehand. Quinn walked over to Caitlyn, standing over her and placing the brush on her skin, spreading the primer on Caitlyn’s skin.
“I see you’ve been moisturizing,” She then backed away to grab the foundation and powder. “Are you excited?” Caitlyn raised her eyebrow, pursing her lips together. “You’ll be the first person with a Toa from Piltover.” A Toa was an award given to those who were deemed outstanding in the film world. Caitlyn smiled at that, the vision of the solid gold statue in her hand. She had spent hours preparing and practicing her acceptance speech. Quinn placed the foundation on her face, spreading evenly and then telling Caitlyn to close her eyes so she could apply the powder under her eyelids. “Do you think I could win Quinn?”
“Of course, you've already been nominated and you’re such a good actress.” She grabbed the highlight and placed it on Caitlyn’s cheekbones. “Plus, everyone’s obsessed with your movies,” That was true, everywhere she went her face was on a billboard for everyone to see and her most recent movie ‘New Disaster’ did numbers at the box office. Everyone was proud of her, including her parents and peers. She remembered that they were all getting ready as she was, all of them excited for her. She was getting deals and receiving scripts everywhere she looked. This was all so great, but she couldn’t help but to want something more, raw.
After a good thirty minutes of thinking and keeping her eyes closed, she opened them due to Quinn’s demand. She looked at herself in the mirror, her skin and eyes glowing from the light. Her eyebrows were filled in to keep a more natural look, and her eyes were lined with blue to match her hair and the hollow of her dress. The eyeshadow was matched with gold in the creases of her lacrimal caruncle. Quinn leaned forwards to add mascara to her eyelashes, an addition to her look. Her lips were tinted with pink, a bit of lip-gloss on them. She smiled at herself, and at how pretty she looked.
After another thirty minutes of putting her outfit on a voice echoed through the air, to reveal a member of her team, clipboard in hand and they quickly announced; “Ten minutes ‘till we leave.” She turned to the mirror in her home, checking all the angles her dress could be perceived from, nothing less than perfection for the cameras. She felt her expensive shoes tighten around her feet, the heels higher than heaven. Everyone started to pack up, Caitlyn then taking1 a seat on her comfortable chair, and then she rose after a few minutes and she twirled one more time to see if anything was wrong before she appeared on the red carpet.
Caitlyn made her way inside the SUV that was running outside of the hotel, her heeled feet taking a step inside the vehicle. Her manager, Grayson held out her hand, Caitlyn taking it generously.
“How are you feeling?” Grayson asked Caitlyn replying with, “Well, just a bit nervous.” That was a lie, she was very nervous. She scooted over into the car seat, grabbing a bit of her dress on the way.
“This is very big, I know you’re feeling a lot of things right now.” “I am, but they’re mostly docile and not anything large.” She looked into Grayson’s eyes. She crossed her legs, Grayson passing her water with a straw in it.
“I know how much you hate cold water brushing against your teeth.” Caitlyn smiled, before thanking Grayson and her thoughtfulness. After a few minutes of breathing exercises and self-reassurance, Caitlyn came to her conclusion.
“I’m ready.” She announced, proudly.
When it came to red carpet appearances, there always had to be a formula. Sidestep on the carpet to show off your expensive outfit, look directly into the camera to avoid any bad shots, and always, no matter what, pose. After leaving the comfort of the huge SUV her team was placed in, Caitlyn conjured her best smile; the flash of cameras hitting her at once. Her name was being called in all directions, the chants and screams of ‘Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn!’ were overwhelming to the senses but it was forecasted. She waved her toned arms and strutted down the long red velvet carpet, the breeze of Demacia flowing through her hair and grazing her skin. She walked one foot in front of the other, summoning her inner model.
Ever since she was little, Caitlyn had always been in the public eye. Her parents decided one day to let her audition for a small role in a short film; and since then, she saw nothing but cameras. The public had always found Caitlyn charming, from her sweet smile to her humble and compassionate spirit. She watched as her peers stood in the middle of the carpet, posing and smiling and then moving on to the interviews, knowing that she was next. “You’re next,” A staff member smiled at her, and she waited for a moment, and then she followed the path of the person who was on the carpet in front of her.
Caitlyn began her signature walk, her long legs stepping to the side in a crisscross motion, and she waved at the cameras and those standing behind the cameras. She posed with a hand on her hip, one on her chest, another with her hands slightly bent by their sides. After a few moments, a staff member waved their hand over and Caitlyn kept her strut, moving towards where the interviewers were. “Caitlyn Kiramman!” Someone shouted, Caitlyn, turning around to face them. An interviewer with a microphone came into view, cameras following her.
Before she could even reply, the interview began, “And here we are with Caitlyn Kiramman..” Caitlyn droned out, getting snapped back into reality when the interviewer started the interview.
“So, how does it feel to be at your first Toa awards?” The interviewer smiled brightly.
Caitlyn opened her mouth to speak, “Um, it’s very exciting honestly,” She continued, “I never thought I would be in this position, this moment is very special to me.” She grinned.
“You are one of the very few to be from Piltover and to also be nominated for a Toa, how does that feel?”
The reason why people from Piltover weren’t nominated for the Toa often, was because Piltover was considered more of a political and industrial state and most embraced logical routes, so to speak. Even with her parents, and if Caitlyn hadn’t gained such traction in her younger years and had a large passion for acting, she wouldn’t be standing there right now.
“It feels very fulfilling almost,” She spoke into the microphone that was handed to her. “I’m very grateful to be in this position, and to be the first from Piltover to be handed a nomination for such a prestigious award is a true honor.” She beamed, the cameras capturing her beauty.
After a few more moments of speaking about projects and her career, Caitlyn departed from the surplus interviews and made her way to the entrance of the Demacia Film Museum. She straightened herself out for the fourth time this hour and walked through the open doors.
Truly the interior was beautiful, the regal architecture colored with the white, silver, and gold all around. This was the first time she was invited to the Toa awards, seeing that it was as beautiful as she imagined. It was a huge statue standing in the middle of the hall, an abstract piece, with two curved lines wrapped around each other and a star on top.
“Caitlyn!” Her name was called and she darted her head to see who it was. It was her good friend Jayce Talis, and behind him were his partners Mel Medarda and Viktor. She smiled at the sight of them, relieved to see friendly faces. “Jayce!” She replied, with the same enthusiasm. She walked towards the group, greeting them. Jayce started, "Your parents are waiting for you in the audience, they’re excited for you.”
“I know, I’m trying my best to get to them as soon as possible.” Caitlyn’s eyes darted to the opening of the auditorium. They then went back to Jayce, Caitlyn hearing a voice come from Jayce’s side. “So, how does it feel to possibly be the first person from Piltover to win a Toa?” Mel asked. Caitlyn rubbed her shoulder, revealing her feelings about the situation. “Nerve-wracking, I feel like I almost have a responsibility to everyone.”
“I’ll feel bad if I don’t win,” She huffed, Caitlyn looking down at the ground. “Hey,” Jayce said, making Caitlyn turn her head towards him. “You’ll be great, even if you don’t win.” He smiled warmly, Caitlyn pursing her lips together in slight embarrassment from revealing her inner thoughts. “He’s right, you know,” Viktor spoke, walking forwards; leaning on his cane. “A simple award is not an accurate measure of how amazing you are as an actress,” Viktor said, nothing but the truth in his voice.
“Most award shows are mostly for publicity, which makes them lack authenticity,” Mel added prim and curt. Jayce and Viktor nodded in agreement, the three on the same page. Caitlyn felt a bit better due to their reason, and a little less nervous. She placed her hands by her sides and breathed deeply, calming herself. “I think I’m ready.” She said for the fourth time tonight. “Let’s go!” She turned to walk to the entrance of the hall.
They walked as a group into the regal auditorium, the scenery was beautiful. The placement of the seats resembled one of an opera house. The stage was probably the most opulent thing Caitlyn had ever had a chance to experience; the opening of an arch with a beautiful gold color, the curtains red. It was lined with bright lights, the interior most likely lit by those bright lights. She had remembered the seats she and her company were seated at, and she led them to those seats.
They sat down comfortably, Caitlyn relaxing her stiff shoulders. She sighed, relaxing in the seats. She then realized that her parents were not there and then her head popped out and looked around, her parents nowhere to be seen.
She turned to Jayce, who was attentively watching everyone get settled. “I thought you said my parents were waiting for me.” Jayce turned back to her, “I saw them here, they probably went to the restroom or to socialize.” Now, Caitlyn was nervous again, most likely for no reason, but still, she couldn’t help but be nervous. Every few moments she kept turning her head, looking around to see if her parents were coming or not. She had texted them both, and the replies from both of her parents were empty. Caitlyn watched as the curtains opened to reveal the announcer, the cameras facing and crowding the stage.
Caitlyn felt someone sit next to her, her head darting to find it was her mother. She sighed a heavy sigh, her nerves finally relieved for the first time this entire night.
“Where were you?” She whispered. “Grayson said it would be great if you got more deals.” She began, taking a seat next to her daughter. Caitlyn raised her hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose in slight frustration. “Mother, Grayson is my manager, not you.” Grayson was probably somewhere, doing the job her mother was trying to do. “I understand it, but everyone wants you somewhere in their production, and I’m usually the first contact.” Caitlyn decided to leave it at that, now wanting to argue with her mother on such a special night.
“Welcome to the Toas!” The announcer began microphone in hand. Caitlyn began to tap her fingers on the armrest, her nerves starting up again.
It was a long night, and as the night went on, Caitlyn grew more restless. It was getting closer to the Best Actress category. “Caitlyn, stay still.” Her mother beckoned her, Caitlyn slowing the movement of her fingers, placing them in her lap. She felt herself become warmer as a result of her nervousness.
“The award for Best Supporting Actor is...” The announcer said behind the microphone, envelope in hand, and said a name Caitlyn was familiar with but the woman was too nervous to take notice of. Her mother nudged her shoulder, trying to get her to clap in respect for the winner. She did so, the claps of her hands making a faint noise in her ears. A camera was on her, Caitlyn still facing the stage and clapping.
She kept a certain timed routine, when the announcer announces who wins; you clap. You keep clapping until they start their speech, and then you clap again once they leave the stage and make their way back to their seat. She kept that routine until it was time.
The time for the Best Actress nomination to be announced.
Caitlyn wanted to twirl her hair but dared not to because of the hard work and long time spent on it. She kept her hands in her lap and kept her posture straight. Her brain was a whirlwind, skimming random doubts that popped up. She crossed her legs, taking a deep breath once again.
The cameras faced the stage and the announcer started with the most anticipated moment of the night.
Leaning into the microphone and its stand, they began.
“For the nominations for the Best Actress award, we have...”
Caitlyn damn near jumped out of her seat when she heard her name being called, and instead of bouncing around like a maniac, she stayed in her seat.
As the envelope opened, a grin was placed on the announcer's face.
“And the winner is......”
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I hate the holidays
by DearSweetCheeks
The woman looked up, holding Vi’s gaze and freezing her to the floor. Her eyes were startlingly blue, her stare so intense that made Vi’s stomach jump. She was quite beautiful; sharp cheekbones, long neck, and now that she’d shed her coat, Vi could spy a healthy amount of curves.
A smile pulled at her lip, one that Vi returned.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one that isn’t fond of this time of the year.” The woman said, staring at her glass as she swirled it in her hand, watching the liquid swish around.
“Fucking hate the holidays.” Vi muttered.
Or: A short, cheesy holiday flick.
Words: 2328, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F
Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends), Cassandra Kiramman, Tobias Kiramman, Thieram (Arcane: League of Legends)
Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)
Additional Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, POV Alternating, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Read on A03.
from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’
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I Love You, Cupcake
I just realized I had forgotten to post this to tumblr too. You can find it on my Ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/38771064
Trigger Warnings for Mentions of Cancer and prescribed drugs.
A seeping warmth that slowly diffuses through the body, while all you can do is sit there and wait for the inevitable. Headaches, nausea, numbness, the list is endless. You lay there, helpless. Allowing the poison to do its job, hoping it works.
Vi waits for the familiar feeling of pressure creeping into her forehead. She learned quickly to not wait it out in hopes of being able to handle it on her own. The pain happened like clockwork; it was expected at this point. It was too intense, and as much as the medications that alleviated these horrible symptoms didn’t come with great side effects either, it was much easier to deal with a spacey mind that a mind that made every breath pure agony. She felt weak for having to admit to the pain.
“Cait…” Vi called out, just barely able to squint with her one eye from the bright room.
“What is it?” She shot around the corner; her sleeve tucked into the ball of her hand. The tight fist was against her chest as she fidgeted with the frayed sleeve of the white knit sweater.
“Call button… please” The headache crept in fast, with nausea falling into its place fast behind it. Pain exploded through her nerves, so much as trying to reach for the button herself was out of the question.
Caitlyn delicately pushed the button and let it fall back onto the bed next to Vi’s swollen hand. Her other hand gently brushed against vi’s face, with her thumb tracing Vi’s cheekbones. Vi sucked a sharp intake of air through her gritted teeth at the sensation of Caitlyn’s touch.
“I- I’m sorry" Caitlyn drew her hand back.
“I- It's al-“ Vi’s head felt as if it was submerged in ice, every word radiated the pain.
“Shh…” Caitlyn’s voice was soft enough that it soothed the pain. “The nurse will be here soon.”
Caitlyn’s presence was enough. Just mere feet away, she could feel the gaze filled with love. Vi knew Caitlyn wasn’t coping well, she was there every morning before the treatments started, and wouldn’t leave until visiting hours were well over and she was found by a nurse. Practically having to be followed outside by staff. The bags under her eyes and the unusual sluggish movements pained Vi to look at.
Days they were home, it was much easier. Vi could at least ensure that Caitlyn was resting. They could enjoy things together much easier and everything was much more relaxed. She tried to ignore what changes they had made, the alarms going off hourly for medications. Sadly those days hadn’t happened for a while.
“Here is your Morphine and Benadryl” The nurse walked in carrying two pills. Vi remained with her eyes closed, waiting for the relief. Caitlyn gave a nod of thanks as the nurse left, leaving the two alone again.
Time passed silently in the room. Vi’s breaths began to even out and slow down, Caitlyn sat idly by and watched.
“Caitlyn…” Vi finally was able to speak.
“Yes?”
“Can you… come here”
“I- “
“You’re not going to hurt me” Vi gathered the strength to look her love in the eyes, she propped herself up, and shuffled over “It's already kicked in.”
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, all the lines and wires intimidated her. It scared her enough to look at, hurt her even, but the thought of possibly knocking one out of place… all it would take is to pump the PICC line and it would cause a cascading issue very fast.
“You’re not going to hurt me Cait… please.” Vi lifted the blanket, inviting her. “I don’t sleep nearly as well when I’m alone”
‘How dare she give the puppy eyes’ Caitlyn glared at her wife. She fought with herself for a moment, anything she would say would simply be contradicted or shot down by Vi.
“Your impossible” Caitlyn huffed. Sitting on the end of the bed, she gracefully removed her boots and tucked her feet under the blanket.
“Love you too” Vi reached for her face, stroking it gently. The bulky pulse oximeter was a reminder. Just as the counter full of medications was at home, and the paper on the fridge with a list of emergency phone numbers. It was a constant in their lives.
They both lay there, staring into each other's eyes. No words were exchanged. Forgetting their surroundings, the constant clicking noises of the infusion pumps, the sterile smells. It was just them.
Caitlyn was the first to fall asleep, holding Vi’s hand close to her chest. Vi was absolutely exhausted but wanted to take in every moment of this as possible.
Vi leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you, Cupcake”
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[find] -> for one muse to find the other after they've been critically injured (Caitlyn - wildcard for who is injured)
Life could be strange at times, and lead to entirely unexpected encounters. Alexis had been strolling down a side street of Zaun, and had paused just long enough to collect a half smoked cigarette from the edge of a wooden box tossed haphazardly to hear a sound that they knew entirely too well. Head tilting a bit they glanced down a section that was a bit too big to be an alleyway yet too small to be a full side street. It was more of a convenient shortcut for cargo than anything else, and a good spot for ambushes as well. The sound of course had been someone that was hurt.
Stepping towards the cargo path Alexis blew on the cigarette before placing it between their lips, and lighting it. Softly they murmured in Ionian. “Just walk away. You know better than to get involved in some silliness. This is Zaun. Walk. Away.” Taking a drag off of the cigarette Alexis hesitated, and than turned away privately deciding whoever was down there was likely dead anyways. Another sound of pain slid through the air however, and Alexis let out a long soft sigh.
They had always just wanted to be a doctor.
Turning back Alexis headed down the cargo path, until finally finding Caitlyn. Staring down at the woman Alexis took another puff off of their smoke. “Not at all how I was expecting my day to go finding someone like you down here, but than I highly doubt you are having the day you expected either.” Their voice wasn’t so much uncaring as flat, and dry. It matched their nearly expressionless face, but somehow it wasn’t threatening exactly. Eyes not predatory, but wary and flattened. Almost like an Enforcer who had been on the job for years, and had seen so much people wondered how they had managed not to fall into a bottle yet and stay there. Their appearance could best be summed up as androgynous. Cheekbones that seemed feminine, and hands to match. Torso covered by a button up shirt, and a coat that made them seem bulkier and their shoulders broader while not showing any real sign of breasts. A stance that was confident, and at ease no matter were they might go. Hair cut short enough not to be pulled back into a pony trail, or some other similar thing yet long enough strands fell down over their eyes that were covered by black rimmed glasses. Man? Woman? You could call them either really, and those around would likely shrug.
“Fuck me. I really need to learn to mind my own business. Ahhh, *Saru mo ki kara ochiru. Look I’m a trained medic. My name is Alexis Ogata, and I’m going to help you. Just relax, and let me look you over and I’ll get you fixed up.” Tossing their cigarette to one side they held up a hand making a soothing motion as their other hand slipped into their coat, and pulled out a sizable first aid kit. Crouching down Alexis moved in closer to Caitlyn. “Can you talk? You know where you are? Your name? And let’s see some of these injuries.”
*Even monkeys fall from trees/Everyone makes mistakes
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