#Thank you Vi for beta reading!!

[stuck-in-jelly]

The Dragon Prince Fanfic: Seeking Judgment

Thank you to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for beta reading and helping me out!! 🫶

Summary: Opeli finds herself face to face with Viren after he makes a request for a confessional. Unpleasant memories rise as she too is now faced with the weight of his crimes.

-----------------------------------

“Excuse me?” Opeli didn’t bother hiding her frustration as she lifted her head from her desk. In front of her the ‘Associate’ Crow Lord squirmed, wringing his hands together as he let out an awkward chuckle, a nervous quirk of his she found exceedingly annoying.

“Viren has requested to see you-uh, High Priestess.” he repeated, swinging his arms back and forth as he bounced in place. Opeli’s lip curled as she placed down her pencil.

“And why would I do that.” her patience was wearing incredibly thin at the thought of that man feeling entitled to anyone’s time, let alone hers. Again, the Crow Lord shifted, now scratching at his nail-polish, the paint turning to black dust before drifting down to her once perfectly cleaned floor.

“Um…he said that he wanted to ask for Judgment from Lady Justice?”

Opeli felt her body stiffen in anger, eyes narrowing enough that the Crow Lord himself went still for the first time since entering her office.

In her youth, when she had still been with the sisters, her predecessor had proposed the ‘Judgment from Lady Justice’ practice. It was an initiative to grant prisoners a chance to reconcile with themselves and take accountability for their actions by speaking with the High Priestess and confessing before Lady Justice in the chapel.

For a moment her anger shot briefly to her mentor for paving her way into this situation but she quickly redirected it back to Viren.

Viren had never been a religious man, this was something she knew for a fact. He often made snide comments about Lady Justice, how if such a deity even existed how cruel they must be to leave humanity as it is.

Now he dare use her name now as an excuse? As a way to bring her to him?

But there was her oath, this was her original job after-all, before she became wrapped up so tightly within the political affairs of Katolis. With a click of her tongue Opeli opened a drawer, fishing out a form she would need to fill out.

“Fine. I will set a date. But he will get no more than 15 minutes.”

The day came quicker than she would have liked, as a whole she would have liked not to be in this position at all but Lady Justice worked in strange ways.

Standing in the middle of the empty chapel with the confessional set up, Opeli mentally recited her oath as a way of grounding herself. Regardless, whenever one requested Judgment from Lady Justice there were always precautions, but this was an exceptional case.

Guards had been ordered to be posted just outside of the chapel and she ensured she would have a means of defending herself, namely a blade.

After Soren had helped her and the others escape Katolis she decided she should know how to use at least a dagger.

Corvus had been the one to coach her, he was a good teacher. Patient, understanding, and thorough. Though she had been fortunate enough to have not needed it so far, there was a newfound confidence with the blade that now rested at her hip more often than not.

Cautiously she turned the weapon over in her hand admiring the smith-work. She often advised in battles, wars, and had many conversations with Amaya and Sarai before her but she had never considered what it meant to actually wield a blade.

There was power in it, of course, but more than that there was an itch. Whenever she felt threatened, her fingers twitched as if closing around an invisible handle.

During her training Corvus had said as much, that to wield a weapon meant to have discipline, to know when to halt and when to strike.

To have discipline.

Opeli found her eyes drifting up to the stain-glass mural in front of her. Justice stood, proud as ever, with her head held high and blindfolded, one hand raising up scales over her head, the other with her sword drawn.

At a very young age Opeli knew she had a strong sense of justice, a need to render each their proper due regardless of status or background, be it King or Servant.

As she stared, eyes drifting to the sword laying passively at Justice’s side, Opeli’s predecessor’s words echoed in her mind.

‘Your hand is far too eager for the punishment.’

“High Priestess.” The guard’s voice snapped her into reality “Are you ready?”

Taking a deep breath Opeli placed the blade back in its holster before blindfolding herself with the all too familiar red cloth.

“Not really.” positioning herself in front of the screen she’d be hearing Viren through, she clarified “Bring him in.”

Moments later she heard the sounds of the guards boots on the chapel floors but now accompanied with the clack of chains. Until they stopped before her feet. The guards' boots receded until the door shut once again leaving Opeli to her fate.

“Opeli,” a sound of gratitude echoed in front of her, a tone so unfamiliar on Viren’s tongue that for a moment she wondered if she had gotten the times wrong and was speaking to some stranger.

“Thank you for seeing me.” Her lip twitched in annoyance. The voice was no doubt Viren’s.

“Let’s make this quick.” she snapped before centering herself and beginning the speech.

Words from their Scriptures she remembers by heart by the time she got to the end she was already feeling ready for this to be over.

“So, you kneel here today before our Lady to seek Judgment and to balance your scales. Do you agree to face Justice with the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Then speak.”

There was no sound for a second until Viren cleared his throat, the soft clank of the chains being amplified by the chapel walls.

“I want to start this off by apologizing to you, Opeli, for how I had treated you for the past few years. It was...wrong.” Opeli couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

If one could believe it, she and Viren hadn’t always been at each other’s throats. There was once a time they were courteous to each other, but it had all changed many years ago. With Lissa.

The name still stung whenever she crossed her mind. How she once lit up a room wherever she walked, trail of leaves and petals following her every step.

The image of her begun to burn behind the cloth of Opeli’s blindfold; Lissa shoulders bare in the cold Katolis air as if it were a warm summer day, a soft flush on her full cheeks, a dimple revealing itself upon a tug her lips, an autumn leaf she pressed sticking out of her disorderly bun, and her soft green eyes full of whimsy she herself certainly hadn’t had since she was a child.

Lissa had once told her autumn was her favorite season, that Katolis has the most beautiful autumn cycle in all the world, even Xadia.

Opeli had countered with how she could know if she had never been to Xadia.

‘I just know.’ she had teased with a soft rumbling laugh, bumping Opeli with her arm as she stared out into the courtyard from the library’s balcony.

Lissa had sounded so sure that she was right that Opeli took her word for it.

A strange longing she hadn’t felt in years clawed at her chest at their shared memories, she could almost smell her perfume and hear her snort in the library as they tried to keep their voices down.

“She told you…didn't she? A-about what I did.”

There was an itch at the palm of her hand, accompanied by the phantom handle, at Viren’s words.

“We are not here to discuss me.”

“I truly do feel awful about what happ- for what I did.”

“And what exactly did you do.” The words were bitter, but so were the memories of Lissa sobbing into her chest, tears streaming down her face, seemingly endless no matter how tightly Opeli held her in her arms.

A strangled whimper escaped the man in front of her, and Opeli felt no remorse. If he truly wished to seek judgment from Lady Justice he would need to at least have the gall to admit it, even if it was over a decade late.

“I…” a hiccuped sob caught in Viren’s throat as he pushed out the words “I hurt her…in our bedroom, I cornered her and I forced her to cry. For a spell. Even when she begged me, I didn’t stop.”

Clinging tightly to her teachings, Opeli recited what was next.

“And do you feel regret for what you did?”

“I…” Viren paused and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Opeli snapped, briefly forgetting her role in this situation, overcome with confusion.

“If I hadn’t done it then Soren...he would’ve died. And I do not regret that my son is alive.”

To that Opeli had no words, as much as she would’ve liked to shout and scream at him, she faltered, for she was also glad Soren was alive.

“Lady Justice has heard your words.”

“There is more I wish to say.” resisting a groan she nodded, a prompt for him to continue.

“I knew under regular circumstances you would’ve never agreed to meet me but take this as my confession.”

The list of crimes that began to spill from his lips further tested Opeli’s patience.

Viren was the one behind the murders of the other Kingdoms’ leaders, smokey assassins he puppeteered to make it seem as if Xadia wished for war. Not much of a surprise but her heart ached for the Kingdoms thrown into chaos, and more so for Prince Kasef, a victim of Viren’s own self righteous plot.

Kpp’ar isn’t missing, Viren claimed, but imprisoned in a coin in his basement. He is sure there is a way to get him out but it would require something exceedingly rare. Opeli crinkled her nose at that wondering if this was a ploy to convince them to allow Viren out of his cell to find said items.

Kpp’ar was a man she rarely even spotted, she wasn’t the high priestess at the time he had begun frequently visiting the chapel, but Opeli remembers that night when her mentor emerged from the chapel face pale and arms weak after speaking with him.

That night was the last night he ever set foot back in the castle before disappearing. If you asked Opeli, she would’ve said he just finally lost his mind and ran away.

“I know, this means nothing now. But Soren, he won’t accept it from me, but I want him to know that I love him. And that I am so proud of him, I had always wanted a son who would follow in my footsteps and I had once thought my son had failed me. But he has done far better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Since the King left Soren had been nothing short of a zombie, a smile that never quite reached his eyes projecting confidence but everyone in the castle felt the shift in his demeanor, he was hardly spotted for his morning jogs anymore, his jokes didn’t quite land, and his fidgeting had only grown.

A few of the soldiers in training had complained about sparring, how he didn’t seem to be holding back all that well.

“If you could...just make sure he knows that, in some way.” As much as she didn’t want to grant him the satisfaction she nodded.

“And Claudia….oh my little girl…when she casted her first spell I had been so worried. But when she woke, I was filled with such pride. I thought I had such a brilliant young girl to take after me, but now I see it was the wrong path. I have watched her do...vile things.”

King Ezran and the others had informed Opeli of Claudia’s return, of how dangerous she was. Had Rayla not interfered, they worried what would’ve happened to Ezran.

“I knew my staying would only hold her back, I just hope it’s enough that she can find the right path just as Soren did. If she comes to Katolis, would you promise that she be granted mercy? What has become of her is my fault, I led her down this route by the hand, she does not deserve to pay the price for my crimes.”

Ezran’s words echoed in her mind. At this point it felt far too late to grant Claudia amnesty but in the end it was not her place.

“She will be granted whatever King Ezran allows.” Opeli conceded.

Viren sighed, and for a moment he remained quiet before taking a deep breath.

“King Harrow is not dead.”

Ice shot through Opeli’s veins, her breath catching in her throat.

“What.”

“I know what it sounds like what-what it looks like. The body...it was his but it wasn’t him.” Opeli’s thoughts swam uncomfortably in her head, her stance wavering. She had seen King Harrow's body, cradled his limp head on her lap as if it would somehow spark him back to life, the same head she once crowned with pride.

“He lives still!” Viren continued, his words muffled behind the images flashing through Opeli’s mind of that night. Blood staining her hands, the clamor of guards shouting, stepping over the bodies of the very people she knighted.

“In Pip, his old Songbird! I did a spell, I wasn’t sure if it would work or not but it did!” Viren rushed them to seal Harrow’s body away, her hands washed of the blood but still stained in her mind, the anger she felt for she had yet to fully grieve and Viren had the audacity to rush her.

“I swear I was planning on finding a way to bring him back but when you stormed into my office-”

Something snapped in Opeli as she tore off her blindfold, hot rage flowing through her as she stepped forward.

“Enough!” Even though the screen Opeli could make out Viren’s kneeling form as he reeled back in shock, she couldn’t make out his expression or any more details than his vague silhouette but it was enough that she got her eyes on him.

“You dare make a mockery of this chapel?”

“W-what? N-no Opeli, please, you don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand plenty, Viren. You are a mad man, you’ve been so consumed by your guilt that you are making wild accusations to rid yourself of it! Our late king may have once entertained you but I will not have you send us on another wild goose chase.”

Opeli tossed her blindfold on the ground discarding it as she stormed away not caring where it drifted to.

“Wait! Wait, Opeli, please-” a slam of the door stiffened his pleas and she couldn’t care less, how dare he mock her, how dare he use this moment now. The guards just out of the doors gave her a confused stare.

“Take him back to his cell.” the pair nodded dutifully before entering back into the chapel. She didn’t bother to stick around to see them drag him back down to the depths of the dungeon instead she stormed back down the hall, robes bellowing behind her.

A deep dark pit stirred within her, memories of such small children with wide toothy smiles. Wrestling in the mud together as they squealed in delight, rushing down the corridors in a whirlwind of chaos, and being ushered out of the library for laughing too loud.

Those children... that whole time with him-

Her knuckles had begun to turn white, and her teeth ground together, giving her a headache, but beneath the rage she couldn’t deny the guilt.

Couldn’t deny the moments she turned her gaze believing Viren’s comments were nothing more than just words, couldn’t deny not only had Viren failed his children, but she did as well.

She had spent so long believing these children, by birthright, had been tainted by their father, destined to follow in his lead.

But Soren had grown into a kind young man. She’d watched how he had changed, how gently he now played with the castles’ children when they asked, how he treated everyone around him with love and respect. Soren carries such a big heart with him, she wondered how he can shoulder it all.

In certain lights he looked so much like his mother.

Perhaps Claudia once did too.

The next day Opeli caught Soren as he was excusing the trainees for the day, they all wore a relieved expression, covered in sweat and bruises as they stumbled off for their breaks. Soren’s expression was set and serious as he hung up the training swords on their rack, Hat chittered softly from a hay pile but Soren paid the little companion no mind, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Taking a breath and steadying her guilt she glided over to Soren with a smile.

“Soren! We are going to have a meeting in the council room later today. We will be uh-” Opeli mentally cringed knowing this topic wasn’t exactly one Soren would have much interest in “going over Advanced Fiscal Exercises if you wanted to join?”

The invitation instantly made him perk up, his smile that had been missing since the King departed rose back to life as he quickly placed Hat back on top of his head.

“Yeah, totally! What time?”

Who knew Soren would be so excited about finances?

Bonus Snippet:

Something prodded at Opeli’s intuition as she walked past the High Mages Office, her steps slowing to a halt a few feet away from it. Despite herself Viren's words echoed in her mind.

Most of her logic reasoned the man was lying, trying to get out of his cell so he could pull another trick on them, but a sliver of doubt was enough to pause her.

There was no way to confirm the outlandish stories of a king in a bird, or the smokey assassins that left behind only their weapons but one story lingered.

A man in a coin.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Opeli glanced around at the empty hall.

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” she mumbled to herself as she turned back to the high mage's office. She always had spare keys on her, and although Prince Callum was out, she had to see for herself even if it meant breaking in.

With a soft click the door gave way to her, briefly she considered locking it right back up and leaving but instead found herself poking her head in through the doors.

With the confirmation she was the only other soul in the room she hesitantly she stepped in, the door creaking loud enough she worried a guard would hear and come investigate.

As gently and quickly as she could she shut the door behind her and enveloping her in darkness. Opeli grumbled to herself, and fished around in her robes for a match. Prince Callum didn’t have any as he always had a magic trick up his sleeves to light the room in an instant.

Finally fumbling for a lantern and her matches she managed to re-illuminate the room, taking her steps towards the dungeons hidden entrance.

Standing in front of the painting, Opeli glared it down, the child holding the sheep in her arms with a far too doleful expression on her face. The painting was one she was glad was out of sight from most eyes.

As she descended the stairs unpleasant memories began to rise once more.

Gren chained at the bottom of the stairs skinny but smiling, the stench of death that hit all of their nostrils causing some of them even to gag, rusted chains splattered with dried blood, old ritualistic weapons hanging on the wall, and strange creatures trapped in jars.

Swatting a cobweb away with a groan she pushed forward, covering her mouth with her hand as she scanned the shelves lined with disturbing ingredients.

They really should just fill in this basement, make sure that it was never found again.

Searching high and low she found nothing. The light of her lantern cast flickery shadows over the basement walls surrounding her in her own embarrassment.

Opeli felt like a foolish child, hunting for monsters in the dark of her closet. How she allowed Viren’s words to burrow in her mind infuriated her to no end.

Must he always have the last laugh?

A soft metal clink on her boot froze her.

There, settled on top of a crack on the floor, laid a gold coin.

[faithisyours]

The List

Vi x Fem!Reader Modern AU

Summary: Vi Reads a book that touches a nerve. You come up with an idea that will hopefully heal some of her inner teenager.

CW: all fluff, some hurt comfort, that's literally it

Word count: 1.3k

AN: Howdy, this is my first fic back since summer (thanks college) and my first official Arcane fic. This is also my first chapter fic, which I will try to make regular uploads on, probably once a week, but no promises. Also Happy New Year!!! This chapter is not smutty, but upcoming chapters will be, so minors gtfo, majors, you enjoy! (Also if you have any ideas for chapters, I'm all ears).

And special shoutout to my god, the loml, my queen, and bestie forever @mythsretriever for being my beta reader on this one!

Chapter 1: The List

Ch 2 can be found here

The sun had set just a few minutes ago. Its waning peach and purple light stretched into the living room through the open window, accompanied by a breeze where warmth and chill danced together. You were on the couch, a book in one hand, Vi’s hair tangled in the other. Often you laid like this, Vi curled between your legs, her back against your belly, while you both read. It was a mindless habit that your free hand played in her hair.

You two had found yourselves in this position maybe an hour ago. Or maybe two. You couldn’t remember. But nonetheless you stayed, serene and content in each other's silence, the only sounds being the occasional page turn or the muffled noise from the street below.

You had just taken your free hand out of Vi’s hair to turn the page when you heard what sounded to you like a sniffle. Originally thinking it came in through the window from a passing car, you were about to brush it off, but then you heard it again. And this time it was accompanied by your girlfriend bringing a hand up to her face.

On instinct you froze, all focus going to hearing that sound again. And hearing it one more time confirmed it; Violet was crying, or at least on the verge of it. You eased your bookmark into your book and set it down. Only within the past year of your three year relationship had Vi started to show more vulnerability in front of you. This was still new, and comforting her about it was even newer. You didn’t want to fuck this up.

Ever so lightly you placed your hand on her arm. When she didn’t pull away, your touch became more present, rubbing and squeezing gently. You quietly cleared your throat, attempting to shake the disuse and clear the small worry forming there.

“Hey, are you alright?” Your voice was between a whisper and a normal volume. As you spoke you saw her bring her hand up to her face again, brushing off tears as soon as they spilled. She nodded and turned into the hand on her arm, giving you her side profile.

“”Ya, I’m alright it’s just…” She quickly shoved her bookmark between the pages and put it down, her now free hand accompanying her other on the front lines of battling the tears. “Just this book is getting to me.” She attempted a chuckle but it came out too tight. Her hands switched to fanning her face.

“Do you want to talk about it, maybe?” You brought your hand up to the side of her neck, caressing her cheek with the back of your fingers. “Vent about how the characters are going about their life wrong?” you lightly joked. It wasn’t received, in fact Vi dropped her head into her hands and started actually crying. Your stomach dropped. You had fucked it up, butchered your attempt at comfort. Scrambling for a way to fix this, you sat more upright and leaned closer to Vi, placing both your hands on her upper arms and gently pulling her back towards your chest.

“Hey that was a joke I didn’t mean to up-”

“No, It wasn’t what you said, it…” She sniffled and wiped her face, leaning more upright and turning back towards you. “The book just hit a nerve I thought wasn’t sensitive anymore, is all.” You thought she was going to stop there with the explanation, but she surprised you when after a moment she kept speaking. “This main character is doing all these adventurous, youthful things and I’m just…I never got to do that stuff, ya know?” Because she had been in prison, and unjustly, which always made you livid when you thought about it. “I just feel like I missed out on all these milestones. Like the 19 year old in me is mourning all these moments that I’m never going to get.” As she said this she leaned back into your embrace. You let your arms wrap around her chest and hold her, an act that comforted her as much as it did you.

After a pause of silence long enough to know she didn’t have anymore to say, you spoke.

“I know this doesn’t really mean much or take any of the pain away, but… I’m so sorry that happened to you, Violet. You were just a kid, you didn’t deserve that.” As you spoke, tears began pooling in your eyes. Thinking about young Vi, scared and alone in a prison with no one to look out for her, made your heart shatter every time. But this moment was about her, so you suppressed your sniffles and blinked your eyes clear.

Vi took in your words, nodding slightly, and then turned fully around to face you. Her eyes were quite red, and there was some snot dripping slowly from one of her nostrils. She gave you a small, sad, appreciative smile, and launched herself at you, wrapping you up in a classic Vi hug where one hand caressed your head and the other held you tight by the waist. You didn’t wait a second, you wrapped your arms around her, one caressing the nape of her neck, the other holding her strong back close.

“Stupid books, always making us cry,” you said, sniffing around a huffed out laugh you both shared. You squeezed her tight, then released her to caress her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and wiping away the last of her tears. “Do you want to keep reading or watch a movie?”

“Watch a movie,” she replied.

“Okay, you pick one you want to watch, I'll go make us some hot chocolate and popcorn.” You patted her leg then popped up and ran to the kitchen, popping a bag of popcorn in the microwave and putting the kettle on for the hot chocolate. As you worked, you thought about what Vi said, about how she felt like she missed out on certain things. How could you help her get those experiences?

You came back with the food and drinks, set them down on the coffee table, and curled yourself up around Vi.

“I picked Spirited Away,” she said, curling up against you and moving the blanket on her lap to cover yours, too.

“An excellent choice,” came your reply. The movie began to play, but what Vi said still ate at you.

“You know, you could make a list.” she gave you a confused look, a line forming between her eyebrows. “Of all the things you want to do, all the things you missed out on. Take some inspo from your book, maybe. I can come up with a couple ideas, but you should make a list. And then we can do them together, if you want.” You caressed her face. “You deserve to have those experiences, Violet. Even if you think you’re past it.”

She gave you a hug so tight you thought you might pass out from lack of oxygen. “That's such a great idea.” She popped up from the couch and ran off quickly, you heard a rustling of things being moved around, and when she returned she had a small notebook and pen in hand. That made you smile.

“Make sure skinny dipping is on that list,” you said. She grinned at you, writing it down as the first on the list.

You watched the rest of the movie in near silence, save the rustling of popcorn or the slurping of hot chocolate, and occasionally Vi would quickly jot down an idea in her notebook. But the soundtrack of the movie eventually lulled you both to sleep, curled around each other on the couch, the small notebook dangling loosely from Vi’s hand, a page already full of things she wanted to do.

Tip Jar

[notthesoup]

got a few ideas for your writers block

stoner vi and what she’s like when she’s high

athlete vi au and her reaction to you going to her games

what vi is like when she has a crush on reader like a massive one

PAIRING vi x fem!reader

TYPE headcanons

GENRE fluff

SYNOPSIS what vi is like when she has a major crush on reader (friends to lovers)

NOTES i will complete the other two prompts on a seperate post. not beta read!

© notthesoup — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

She loves the way you laugh, and though she may not admit it in the early stages of tour friendship, she’ll often do things to try to make you laugh.

In group settings she is often seen by your side. You both are inseparable in times of happiness, preferring to share it with one another.

Vi is a big listener, and loves to hear you talk. Though, sometimes she finds her mind adrift as she gazes at your face as you speak animatedly about a subject. In these moments, her mind is blank, but there is an overwhelming feeling of affection and appreciation towards you.

When she focuses back on the conversation after you’ve asked her a direct question, she quickly flounders. She thinks that her excuse as to why she wasn’t listening is enough to tide you over, but there’s a certain glint in your eyes when you contemplate why she started spluttering. Your fixed stare at her is almost enough to make this cycle repeat again.

Vi is a very physical person, always having a hand on your shoulder or arm, holding your hand in hers, or absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

She sometimes feels guilty/anxious about this physical aspect of herself though; throughout her life, fighting has been at the forefront of her mind, so to finally be at peace is a strange headspace to be in. Sometimes you’ll walk too quietly or turn a corner to quickly and she flinches, her fists clenched in instilled preparation. It’ll take a while, but she eventually unlearns these habits and exists in a more serene state, where she doesn’t have to be constantly vigilant.

Vi loves that she’s able to talk about stupid shit with you; what qualifies as a soup, what a hypothetical second winter would look like, whether cherry tomatoes are inherently evil, etc. The both of you could discuss for hours without tiring, even though you’d eventually talk in circles. It’s never a dull moment with you.

Vi’s love language is acts of service. She realizes her feelings towards you are more than just a crush when you surprise her with something seemingly small, be it a cute note or an offer to help her with errands.

Although she has a reputation of being a smug cocky bastard (affectionate), it’s mostly a bluff. When it comes down to it, she’s a very gentle and careful lover. After realizing the extent of her feelings towards you, she tries gauging your reaction by “subtly” being more affectionate.

In the end though, it’s actually you who initiates the romance between you two. Months down the line, she’ll ask you how you knew she liked you. You’ll then laugh, a very boisterous and happy sound, and she’ll store that memory with her like a picture in a wallet.

ARCANE MASTERLIST !

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting! thank you if you do 🤍

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK

SERIES SUM. : This is what happens when you, an avid Harry Potter fan, replace Walburga and have the chance to change the future, starting with improving Sirius and Regulus' childhood. You'll be getting a divorce! And you'll be the one taking the kids!

LAST UPDATED : 07/02/2025 (dd/mm/yyyy)

NEXT UPDATE DUE : 09-16/03/2025 (dd/mm/yyyy)

CHAPTERS :

I. ARRIVAL (special thanks to @thebestofoneshots for beta reading this chapter!) II. SHOPPING (1/2) III. SHOPPING (2/2) IV. BEGINNINGS V. SIRIUS : FIRST DAY VI. POTIONEER VII. INVESTIGATIONS VIII. PASTRIES IX. REPUTATION ⌈new⌋ X. HOLIDAY

EXTRA :

ANON ASK : HOW THE SERIES CAME TO BE

DISCLAIMER : please read | TAGLIST DISCONTINUED...

TAGS : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; isekai au/transfering worlds au ; walburga black is evil ; not reader though hehe~ ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; platonic fluff ; second chances ; reader basically adopts remus, barty crouch jr and peter pettigrew ; peter pettigrew redemption arc? ; but he never betrays the marauders in the first place so... ; remus gets a better life ; reader becomes a semi-political figure to help werewolves + house elves ; reader assumes a male alias ; alternating chapters from different povs directly effected by reader's actions ; reader is a powerful independent business woman and single mother ; reader is a milf ; reader secretly hates dumbledore ; reader hates orion black ; reader hates JKR (we all do) ; divorce ; mentions of child abuse (physical and mental and emotional) ; mentions of neglect ; angry reader ; canon jily ; mentions of wolfstar ; regulus being a precious baby ; sirius has his moments too ; reader being a powerful trio with minerva and pomfrey ; reader potentially adopting the black sisters (bellatrix, andromeda and narcissa) ; reader adopts everyone! ; there'll be ocs ; reader leaves to live her dream cottagecore life ; happy ending! ; i'll add more tags in the future

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse vi); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo share your"first" kiss... and maybe, you become something more? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, first kisses, absolute softness!!! not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another one shot for my gojo anthology series! thank u all for the love on this series!! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

There was no lie in saying Gojo Satoru had consumed your thoughts. It was quite the recent development, seeing as he was an enigma that sort of manifested into your life. One day, you were living your apprentice life, exploring your technique, honing and developing it... then the next, this myth of a (young) man appeared before your eyes. Like an angel that fell from the sky and right into your palm. You just had no idea that he was wrapped around your finger. 

Maybe it was because you were oblivious, unaware of the subtle (but were they really subtle?) messages he sent your way. If you had known Gojo Satoru well enough, you would've known that this was very unlike him. Sparing his time for someone else? Giving them his all? Focusing on them more than himself? Practically going brain dead around them unlike the usual cocky persona he carried around. Surely it scared him, falling deeply for someone just at the simple sight of them... but, for you? You just thought it was the universe working its magic. Bringing someone new into your life to develop a bond with. That was it, right?

Just another somebody to call your friend. 

However, Gojo Satoru wasn't just any somebody. He was the honored one, the strongest (he'd eventually learn this). He was the Gojo Satoru. The once in a life time (well, thousand years) creation formed by the gods themselves. 

He was the man who fell head over heels for you when he laid his eyes on you for the very first time. Stumbled over his words before you. Unable to process a single thought when he gazed into your eyes. Rescued a cat you found in a tree that you named after his favorite treat (and the nickname he had for you), Mochi. Kissed you at Utahime's birthday party during a game of spin the bottle where both of you were tipsy—a moment he would never forget, but you sadly had. A moment that slipped through the cracks of your brain, a moment that would eventually get replaced by a memorable moment.

It had become routine for you, spending your mornings in lessons with Nanami and Haibara. Then, you'd spend mid day with Shoko, following her like a shadow as her junior. Go on the occasional mission, take down curses, squeeze in snack breaks with your dear classmates, go out in the evening for dinner... and somehow, along your schedule, Gojo would make his appearance. You could never foresee it, he would pop up out of nowhere. If it wasn't teasing Kento, or bugging Shoko for her secret snack stash, he'd show up to your favorite dinner spot you shared with the girls (this almost always irritating Utahime because he ruined girls night). Gojo never cared, at this point he showed up wherever knowing (hoping) you'd be there. Always settling himself next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sneaking a milk box onto your lap or even sharing his treat of the hour. He never shared his sweets with anyone. You were the exception. 

"I got these lil gummies next to that arcade you frequent with Yu," Satoru said as the two of you sat under your (now his, too) favorite tree. The gorgeous cherry blossom in full bloom as spring had made its way around. You almost always had a blanket set, one of your books settled to the side, bookmark slipped into the part you last read. Your iPod nestled between you and Satoru, sharing each earbud as you listened to the current track that came on. Gojo, in his infamous wisdom, was the one who found programs to download music for free, an endless catalogue filling the memory of the rectangular device. Unlike it being yours, it was now his, too. You didn't mind. You liked sharing. You liked having these gentle moments with the overly energetic Gojo Satoru. These were the only moments he sat still, only with you. Just for you. 

Always for you. 

It was the little things that started adding up. It took you a minute to realize, longer than Satoru had hoped—but he was patient. He was obvious, made it clear that his feelings for you were there, he just hoped you'd piece the puzzle together. He had hoped you'd feel the same. How couldn't you when you looked so happy around him? When you said things reminded you of him. When you bought him little sweets you knew he'd love. When certain songs he loved, you'd learn the lyrics to. Just as you started noticing the (obvious) little things he did for you, he started noticing the same for you. Except, for you, it was coming out naturally. Nothing planned, nothing decided in advance, it just happened. It always just happens and it makes Satoru's heart beat faster and faster. Faster than it did before. 

"You like 'em?" He asked, popping another gummy in his mouth as you chewed, nodding happily with the cutest smile of pure content. "I'm glad! Take some more!" He offered, waving the decorative bag of bright colors and little cartoons. 

Letting out a small laugh, you took a couple more, waving your free hand, gesturing for him to take the rest as you popped them in your mouth. The fruity flavors filling your senses with pure bliss as you looked off to the open grounds of the school before you. The gentle breeze pushing through, strands of your hair fluttering against your face as they slipped from your ponytail. Gojo leaned against the tree, a knee propped as he rested his wrist against it, holding the baggie while his other tossed more gummies into his mouth. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Nothing but the music in one ear and the soft sounds of nature in the other. 

"Oh, I love this song!" You perked up as a song ended and another started, looking at Satoru with a bright grin. 

"Didn't I show you this one?" He asked, pushing his round glasses atop his head, smiling with you as you stood up. 

"Mhm! I've been listening to it on repeat!" Grabbing the bag of gummies from his hand and settling it down, you took his hands and pulled him to his feet with a faint grunt. Sometimes you'd forget just how giant Satoru was since he loved to make himself seem so small when he was with you. "The music video is so cute! I kinda learned the dance."

"Really?" He chuckled as you guided him. 

"Yes, remember you said you learned it after a few watches?" You asked as he nodded. "Let's dance it together!"

"Okay!" The white haired young man blushed, though a wide grin still was plastered on his face. He may have been a goofball, but Satoru did not have two left feet. He actually was quite skilled, and having him sing along with you made your heart flutter as you so casually danced around your shared tree. 

It felt as if it was just the two of you, singing, dancing and entangling yourselves with the earphones, laughing and gazing at one another. As if there was nobody else in the world. As if it was just Mother Nature gazing upon two souls intertwining. All in what felt like slow motion, a scene right out of a movie. Your hand in his, his other on your lower back as your free one settled on his shoulder. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and neither could he from yours.

Maybe it was a moment of vulnerability—or, rather courage—but your hand gently found its way to the back of his neck, fingers gently carding through his soft locks. The gentle feel of his undercut tickling underneath your palm, sending shivers down either of your spines. The softness in Gojo's eyes faded as you gently tugged him towards you. Growing in shock as your own fluttered closed. Gentle lips meeting in the middle as his plump ones met your lightly tinted own. 

His heart was racing, faster than it had that night of Utahime's birthday. Maybe it was because both of you were 100% aware, or maybe it was because it was happening again but away from others, in your own shared comfort zone. 

Feeling you pull away, Gojo instantly placed his hands on your hips, engulfing you in his arms as he kept you close. Kissing you, once sweetly turning deep. He didn't want this to end, didn't want it to be forgotten. His lips moved against your own, testing the waters. Nerves fading away, anxieties melting at how right this felt. You were his first, and he was going to make sure you were going to be his only. He didn't want anyone else. No one but you. 

And you, after months of being oblivious and unaware, to months of development and realization, wanted him the same. Only him and no one else. Just Gojo Satoru. 

Gently pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, a sigh of relief left his lips. "You beat me to it."

"It felt like the right moment," you softly spoke. 

"Then I guess this is the right moment..." Gojo trailed. 

"For what?" You curiously asked. 

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans @peqch-pie @pinksaiyans @silentmajesticfox @r0ckst4rjk @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @stinkysposts @lupitalove (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[aventurineswife]

Rebel Hearts and Bruised Knuckle

Summary: In the neon-lit underbelly of Zaun, you and Vi cross paths in the pit fights—two fighters with too much history and too little self-preservation. What starts as a rivalry built on fists and bravado slowly morphs into something deeper, something neither of you are ready to admit. Between late-night confessions, bruised knuckles, and stolen kisses, you challenge Vi to fight for something more than survival. But in a city that takes more than it gives, love might just be the hardest battle yet.

Tags: Vi x Reader, Punk!Reader, Pit Fighting, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Late Night Conversations, Kissing Under Neon Lights.

Warnings: Strong Language, Violence & Blood, Emotional Trauma, Mentions of Past Imprisonment, Bruises & Injuries, Smoking.

Thank you for beta-reading this @kaveriayyansolos115 🤭💖

The underbelly of Zaun had a pulse of its own—a thrumming, electric heartbeat fueled by neon lights, pounding basslines, and the sharp crack of fists meeting flesh. That was where you thrived.

A punk through and through, you wore your rebellion like a second skin—leather jacket scuffed from too many fights, chains clinking with every step, tattoos winding up your arms like battle scars. The people here knew you, respected you, maybe even feared you a little. But fear was just another form of admiration, wasn’t it?

And then there was Vi.

You’d heard whispers about her before you ever met her—Stillwater’s ghost, the pit-fighting legend, Vander’s lost girl. She carried her past like an anchor, wrapped in bruised knuckles and barely-contained fury.

The first time you saw her, she was knocking a guy twice her size out cold in the ring, her signature gauntlets absent but her fists just as devastating. She stood there, shoulders rising and falling with adrenaline, a grin splitting her face like she hadn’t just broken someone’s nose.

You leaned against a rusted railing, lighting a cigarette. “Not bad, Pink.”

She turned, eyes locking onto you—eyes sharp enough to cut. “That supposed to mean something?”

You exhaled smoke, smirking. “Means you can throw a punch. But can you take one?”

That’s how it started—an unspoken challenge, a rivalry laced with something deeper, something electric. You clashed in the pit, fists flying, bruises blooming like warpaint. She fought with the precision of someone who had everything to prove. You fought like you had nothing to lose.

It was a dangerous balance.

But the fights were just the surface. The real war happened in late-night walks through Zaun’s twisting alleys, where she asked about the anarchy symbols inked into your knuckles, and you traced the “VI” tattoo under her eye with your fingertips.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” she asked one night, voice rough from exhaustion, blood dried at the corner of her lip.

You shrugged. “Zaun’s in my bones. Running won’t change that.”

She hummed, staring out over the flickering city lights. “Yeah. I get that.”

There was a quiet understanding between you—two fighters, two lost souls, both too stubborn to break, too damaged to heal.

One night, after a particularly brutal match, you found her sitting on the edge of a rooftop, knuckles raw, shoulders slumped.

“You keep hitting walls like that, you’re gonna break before they do,” you muttered, sitting beside her.

She scoffed. “Ain’t the first time.”

You sighed, nudging her boot with yours. “Vi.”

She glanced at you, eyes dark, guarded. “What?”

You hesitated, then reached out, fingers ghosting over the cut on her cheek. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just let you touch her, let you see her—past the bravado, past the scars.

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop fighting,” you said softly. “But maybe… fight for something that won’t kill you.”

She exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “And what the fuck is that supposed to be?”

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your breath to brush her lips. “You tell me, Pink.”

And then, just like that, she kissed you—hard, desperate, like she was trying to pull the fight out of you and into her.

But you weren’t fighting this.

Not this time.

[ellabsprincess]

What arcane characters that you have on your list do you think are doms/subs/switches.

thank you anon i love this!! feel like this is a good way for me to get started writing for the arcane fandom <33

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, mdni, sexual themes, not beta read

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @dropsofs4turn @hehatesmati @zethd

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐕𝐈

i feel like vi definitely comes across as a dom at first, but i think she's actually more subby. like she portrays herself as a dom just to be less vulnerable, but once you get to know her, i feel like she's definitely more of a switch.

𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐘𝐍

SHE'S A DOM GOOD LORD. definitely "tops from the bottom", like i feel like with her and vi together, vi is giving a lot, but caitlyn is always in charge, and like calling the shots and tell vi what to do.

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀

THE MOMMIEST OF DOMS OMFG. sevika just radiates dom energy, like jesus fucking christ. definitely more of a hard dom, like i see her being pretty aggressive and more into like bdsm and rough sex. but yeah, sevika loves subs and just taking care of you. she may be harsh but i feel like she's be amazing at aftercare.

𝐌𝐄𝐋

out of all of them, i think mel is the most subby. she definitely will give and receive, but i don't think she likes to be in control that often. if she is in charge, she seems like she would be very very gentle if anything. yeah i see her as more of a pillow princess (nothing wrong with that, we LOVE pillow princesses here)

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

definitely dom. has the same energy as sevika honestly. i'm such a simp for grayson's voice so this is probably just me projecting but i feel like she's a very vocal dom. while sevika is more of a physical dom, like restraints, physical punishments, etc, i feel like grayson is in control just through her words. doesn't even have to touch you to get you under her control.

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

so fucking dom. like, JUST LOOK AT HER. she uses her height and build to her advantage for sure. honestly i feel like she's more of a dom bottom though, with the way she loves to be pampered and waited on, i feel like she would love to have you sit at her feet and explore her with your mouth while she leans back and enjoys some expensive food.

a/n: i did not proofread this, so if you see an error, no you do not

also, thank you to all of the wonderful lovelies who sent in requests! will be getting to those sometime soon :)

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part V

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading for me, you're the best bb!! ❤️❤️

Hello everyone!! This chapter is going to be a little more plot/lore heavy. But, we still get some sweet and flirty boys. IV brings Reader dinner and II is becoming more comfortable in his flirting. Thank you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

WARNINGS: None

Part IV - Part VI

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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Today was one of those times where your store was absolutely slammed. "I'll be right with you Jay, just give me one second." You clap the older man on the shoulder as you round the counter.

"No worries darlin', I got all day." He smiles cheerfully at you." You hurriedly set a fresh batch of coffee to brew, quickly cleaning up the station.

"Next batch will be done in about ten minutes guys." You smile as you pass by a tow of your usuals, a group of old timers that would set up shop at the shelf along one of the windows and spend their day drinking cups of coffee and playing scratch tickets.

"Now Miss (Y/N), don't you go running off, I got a vibe to pick with you young lady." You skidded to a halt, turning in your heels to face the myriad of curious stares.

"You better make this quick Randy, I got a line out the door." You huff with a sarcastic smile.

"I just want to know what you're doing hanging around with those cultists." Your eye involuntarily twitched as he spit out the word. "I'd just hate to see you get mixed up in that crowd."

"They're nice boys Randy." You hurry up to the counter as you continue to call over your shoulder. "It might do you some good to actually get to know them before you try to crucify them over nothing.

"Why don't you try inviting them to the Fall Festival?" Jay asks gently.

"Unfortunately I don't think they'd go. I know it's hard to believe but they're just as nervous about you as you are about them." You explain with a huff.

"I think it's worth a shot at least." He leans in a bit to whisper to you. "Now I can't speak for everyone obviously, but I think if the townsfolk actually got to meet them and see that they're not some big ol' scary monster in the woods… well, they might just come around." He offers his advice with a patient smile. "If you're saying they're a good group of guys I trust your judgment. Your word means a lot more to me than some blood thirsty reporter after a story."

"Thanks Jay, I'll ask them. Who knows, maybe they'll show up." He bids you farewell before leaving you to tend to the rest of your sea of customers. After what felt like an eternity your store was finally empty. You groaned, slumping over the counter. The cool linoleum felt nice against your sticky skin. You jolted up at the sound of the bell ringing above the door, eyes flashing over to reveal II and IV looking at you curiously. "Hey guys." You give them a tired smile.

"Everything alright, love? You look exhausted." II approaches the counter, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just a long day." You explain. You sit down in your chair, resting your elbows on the counter. II copies your motions, his eyes searching yours, his nose just barely out of reach from bumping into you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You shake your head in response.

"You boys are already too good to me as it is." You giggle as II playfully rolls his eyes. "I'll be alright, just gotta do some quick cleaning before I go upstairs. Then it's a cup of ramen cause I'm too lazy to cook and shitty movie re-runs until I pass out on my couch."

"A cup of ramen isn't a meal, doll." He tuts.

"I know that, doctor." He chuckles at your sarcastic tone. "I'll be alright, one night without a proper dinner isn't going to kill me."

"I wish we could come help more around here, I hate seeing you so tired." IV chimes in, dropping an armful of snacks on the counter.

"I appreciate all your help, but I promise you, I'll be just fine." You respond with a reassuring smile. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your answer but they could tell you weren't in the mood to argue.

II sighs, "just promise me after you finish up here you'll go get some rest."

"You have my word." You chuckle. The two of them finish their shopping, idly chatting with you as you do some cleaning up. "Goodnight guys, get home safely." You wave as they head out.

"I better not come back here and see you exhausted tomorrow." II warns playfully.

"I'll try my best." He winks at you before pushing out the door. IV wishes you goodnight before joining his companion.

You collapsed on your couch with a groan once you finally made it upstairs. Despite how much you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hungry your growling stomach said otherwise. You lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when suddenly the familiar rumble of a pick up truck pulls into the lot. You stood, walking over to the window and pushing the curtain aside. You saw IV fumbling with something in his passenger seat before kicking the door open. You met him at the back door, he froze when he saw you standing at the top of the landing with a smirk spread across your features. "I, uh, I brought some food." He offers bashfully.

"Come on up IV." You chuckle before heading back inside. IV steps into your apartment, eyeing you curiously.

"I'm sorry I showed up without an invitation." He apologizes. You smile, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"You're welcome here anytime." He breathes out a laugh as his eyes dart to the floor. You offer to take the food for him, setting up a spot for the both of you on your couch. "I am curious, how did you manage to get fast food without raising any suspicion?" You ask as you pop a fry in your mouth. IV chuckles in response, adjusting to sit more comfortably.

"It's a funny story actually, I pulled up at the drive through and the kid working there told me he liked my costume." You laugh.

"Really?" He nods. The thought of the Fall Festival popped into your mind; how you would love to bring the four of them because you know they would have a great time, how it would give them a chance to see the town for what it really was, and of course your little crush on the charming masked men didn't help either. "IV, do you think Vessel plans on ever going into town? You know, aside from you guys making supply runs under the cover of darkness." You joke.

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't know." He pulls his mask away from his face to take a sip of his drink. "I'm the newest of our little group so I can't give you the whole story, but from what I understand up until we reached here things weren't too great. There's a lot of people out there who want to get rid of us before they even have a chance to get to know us. We've been run out of town after town, sometimes through more… humane means… other times not so much. But, we have something good here, with the camp in the woods, with you." He pauses for a moment to smile at you. "That's something I want to try and hold onto for as long as I can."

You study him for a moment, "what if I tried to help?" You offer. "I could be the middleman for you. People in town know me, I grew up here, that has to mean something. I just… I don't want you to have to constantly be worried about someone being out to get you. I know that if they met you, if they got to know the people I know you are, they wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I'm sure Vessel would be interested in hearing you out. Who knows, maybe you'll actually convince him." He chuckles. "Between you and me, if you bat those pretty little eyes at him, I'm sure you could convince him to do just about anything." He jokes as he shoots you a wink.

"I bet that line works on all the girls, huh?" You giggle, trying to shake off the heat that had settled in your cheeks.

"As long as it works on you I'm set." You playfully smack his arm. He nestles back into the couch cushions, letting out a soft groan as he stretches an arm over the back, the back of your neck buzzing as you feel his warmth seep into your skin.

"You're all a bunch of flirts." You smile at him.

"A bunch of flirts?" You roll your eyes at his mock annoyance. "It's not my fault that you're so captivatingly beautiful." You noticed that growing familiarity in your chest. The steady thrum of your heartbeat as you tried to hide your flustered state. IV leans in closer to you, his side pressed flush against your body. "Once I met you I understood what they were all fussing over." He chuckles before muttering, "the perfect being brought to us by Sleep." You turn to look at him, his hazy blue eyes coaxing you in deeper with every passing second.

"Who's… who's Sleep?" You whisper. IV tilts his head, a curious expression matching yours. The pieces must have clicked together because he returned to his usual smiling self a moment later.

"You'll find out soon, Vessel's probably waiting for the right time to explain." You accepted his explanation without a fuss. You trusted that if it was something you needed to know they would tell you. He glanced up at the clock, "I'm sorry to cut things short, love, but I should head back." You nod, standing and walking him over to the door.

"Thank you for bringing some food." You smile.

"Anytime." He responds with a wink. "Get some rest, alright? II will throw a fit." You both shared a laugh before IV reached out and pulled you into his arms. You froze at first, not fully comprehending that he had wrapped you in a hug. But, the moment realization set in your arms slipped around his torso. Neither of you were in a rush to let go, the two of you standing in a comfortable silence as IV held you close, gently swaying you from side to side.

"Goodnight, doll." His hand lingers in your hip, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping out the door.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @themultiverseofmars @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @ripleyswife @thepityscene @lipstick-and-lycanthropes @vmpirekiss @savaneafricaine @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER VI - súton

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,1K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VII

súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something

Images flashed through her mind like fragments of a dream, mixing reality with a disorienting haze. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for what was to come. She was still in her temporary private quarters. Was it all just a dream? Confusion ran through Y/N like the hot blood inside her veins.

The engine of the roaring car pierced her ears and her vision was still blurry. “Where am I?” she whispered, her voice slowly progressing to realise the situation. She grabbed the letter seat, trying to pull herself up.

“Chan-yeol?” she asked, pressured.

“Little bird, are you ready to fly away?” he laughed. Y/N looked at him with terror in her pupils.

“Are you out of your mind? You just signed your own death certificate Chan-yeol!” This is bad. Her thoughts spoke to her in distress, each and one of them telling her to do something.

“What, a sudden change of heart? Did you not want me to ship you off to the new land?” said the man, accelerating the car.

“He’s going to slaughter everyone!” she screamed.

“You did not think of that when you ran the last time or the time before, why now Y/N?” He spitted his words out, looking at her through the mirror. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she would lose her mind for good.

“He has the whole family on a silver platter there Chan-yeol! Turn the car right now!”

“We’re almost there.” He declared. 

“Yoongi?!” was the first name that came to her mind. Voice full of fear. The sound of urgent footsteps echoed around her, crescendoing with the abrupt swing of the door. However, the one she sought, the man whose name she called, was not in her sight.

“Namjoon?” she called out, the surprise evident in her voice, interwoven with a thread of relief.

“How do you feel?” He asked, slowly approaching her petite form.

“What— I don’t understand,” she struggled to articulate her bewildered thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Chan-yeol’s words cut through the frosty air. He steered the car to the side of the road. Snow was everywhere she could see, each surface draped in ethereal white. Without waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete halt, Y/N flung the car door open, her steps bold as she ventured out into the wilderness.

The direction from which they arrived became a backdrop as she briskly distanced herself from Chan-yeol’s presence.

“This might be your last chance to flee this wicked world, girl.” His voice, heightened in intensity, reached her ears. Y/N stopped in tracks — the ultimatum clear.

Her family on one side, her newfound reality on the other – a choice lay before her.

“You have no idea what you just did!” she screamed defiantly, she refused to spare him a glance. “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Y/N?” a different voice echoed and her eyes widened at the unexpected interruption.

“I did not, Namjoon. I did not try to run away. You have to believe me!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to convey her innocence. Namjoon, his touch gentle, enveloped her small hands in his.

“Shhh… I know, it’s alright.” Namjoon cooed at the bride. And that’s when every single picture came back to her mind.

“How—how did you get here, for the love of God?” Y/N pivoted towards the speaking man, memories of their shared past flooding back as if the study hall of Shenyang’s University was just yesterday.

“I came for you,” he declared.

“For me?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“For me?!” she repeated, a frustrated laugh bubbling up. “Now you’re coming for me.” Y/N recalled the day he declared that she was in this battle alone, a stark contrast to their current proximity. They were never that close, he was too afraid to even hold her hand or maintain prolonged eye contact. But she considered him to be a friend, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he confessed, staring directly into her eyes.

“You love me?” She asked, mocking him, a bitter edge to her tone.

“Where was this love when I needed to run the hell out of the continent, huh?” She closed the distance between them, pushing him with aggressive force.

“You're a coward, Han Chen,” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting through the tension.

“I have a plan, Y/N,” he replied, brushing off her words even as they stung.

“Hmm… you have a plan. And what is this plan exactly?”

“He won’t want you if you’re ruined, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a cold gust of wind, and she gasped at the implications.

The haunting melody of that familiar song resonated in her mind once again.

“He—he attempted to rape me.” Y/N looked through her teary eyes directly at Namjoon's, whose mimics told her, she is right.

“He paid for that with his life.”

“You’re going to kill us all!” Her words became the truth once the first bullet was fired, finding its mark in Chen’s head. Y/N witnessed his eyes blackening, a vacancy replacing the spark of life. 

He was gone. Blood dripped down his neck, staining her chest, her breath hitching as her vision blurred. Chan-yeol swore and fumbled with his gun, leaving Y/N to crumple to the ground, as he was tightly holding her down for the devil’s messenger to do the unforgivable.

Her eyes narrowed at the white sky. Chen’s lifeless body collapsing onto her smaller frame. Y/N’s hands trembled as she mustered the strength to slowly push his corpse away.

“Are you alright?” she heard him before she saw him above her.

“What about the wedding?” she asked, curiosity mingling with the shock that gripped her.

“We’ll proceed—” he answered, addressing yet another of her fears.

Speech and vision eluded her. “Y/N?” he asked again, gently throwing Chen’s lifeless body off her. “Darling, please say something.” His concern was palpable.

“Let me go, you fuckers!” Chan-yeol’s enraged screams echoed nearby. He hadn’t made a clean escape after all.

Hoseok helped her sit. Y/N’s eyes mirrored the emptiness that had claimed Chen’s.

“Darling?” Hoseok urged, attempting to coax her back to the present.

“—and hold a trial tomorrow.”

“Trail?” she asked, her voice fragile.

“Chan-yeol was a part of our clan. He is a traitor, and we’ll treat him as such.”

“And what about—”

She cast one more glance at Chen’s lifeless form before shifting her attention to Chan-yeol, struggling on the ground, surrounded by Min soldiers from whom she only recognised Jungkook.

“I want to go back, Hoseok-ssi. Please take me back.” Her voice wavered. Hoseok breathed out, relieved, helping her stand. As she turned to look at Chan-yeol, his screams pierced the air.

“Don’t look that way, sweetie,” Hoseok intervened, guiding her away from the chaotic scene. Only when they reached the parked cars, a good half a mile away from the unfolding drama, did she exhale and allow herself to close her eyes.

“Yoongi is beyond pissed. We could have avoided this if you would tell him about that foolish boy.”

“I swear, Namjoon, we were not... we did not—” she stammered.

“—I did not know he would come look for me nor do that….”

“Do not tell that to me, princess,” he sighed.

“I need you to get dressed. We have already postponed it, and we cannot do it any longer.”

“Sure,” were her only words to him.

“She called for you, brother,” the right-hand man spoke as he entered the boss’s office, where Yoongi was finally getting ready for the wedding.

“Explain,” the young groom responded while fixing his tux in front of the mirror.

“She called your name when she woke up.”

“Did she?” Yoongi felt a spark of hope that he would indeed become her person, her lover, her everything, just as she was to him.

The right-hand man chuckled at his questioning response, knowing it warmed Yoongi’s heart.

“Damn this one tradition; you should go and see her.”

“I would, but that would ruin the thrill, wouldn’t it, hmm,” he hummed.

“You’re getting married, brother.”

“Yes, today I’m getting married, and tomorrow I have to deal with a man who kidnapped my woman and let the other fucker almost rape her,” Yoongi spat, hitting the wall next to the mirror. He never felt greater anxiety than when Xiaoli said she was taken away from him. How ironic that he is to be the one who feels anxious.

Her mother crying, father screaming at everyone, younger sister praying. Yoongi had a feeling that she would not be that stupid to run away when he had her family inside the hotel.

“Nothing else will go wrong.”

“Did you greet the Yamamotos?” The Yakuza clan was invited to the wedding, a bold move, and what was even bolder—they accepted and arrived.

“I surely did, brother,” said Namjoon.

“Good,” Yoongi smirked, not expecting what is yet to come.

“Everything is as it should be.”

“I don’t want Y/N’s father near her until the wedding, Jungkook-ah,” requested Yoongi from the passive listener, seated just a few meters away on the sofa, sipping on his glass of white liquor.

“As you wish, Hyung,” he put the glass down and stood up, fixing his tux and putting on his white hat.

“And for fuck’s sake, patch those knuckles, aight?” Yoongi screamed playfully after him.

The temple, a sanctuary of weary souls, stood solemnly bearing witness to the union unfolding within its hallowed walls.

The bride, adorned in a crimson hanfu dress, with beautiful shining golden details on her long sleeves, walked the creaking wooden path towards the temple’s entrance, her steps heavy with the knowledge of what is awaiting her. The rich fabric of her dress billowed like a blood-red sea, a stark contrast to the pallor of her face that concealed emotions that dared not surface.

The courtyard was adorned with bright red and white paper lanterns when she passed it. She did not dare to look around at all the noble underground hats who had gathered to witness the union of two syndicates.

The flickering candles cast eerie, dancing shadows upon the ancient murals depicting forgotten legends. The distant sounds of the city, with its bustling streets and restless souls, provided a haunting contrast to the stillness of this timeless ceremony. The soft strains of the gayageum and the rhythmic beats of the janggu filled the air.

At the temple’s altar, the groom, equally somber in attire, awaited the bride. His eyes, like deep pools, hinted at the secrets he carried, secrets buried beneath, he wished to share with her.

The chants of the officiating monk resonated through the temple; a haunting reminder of the spiritual solace sought amidst the chaos of the outside world. Their union was a flicker of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to extinguish the spirit of a nation. She was not initially meant to be his, fate seemed to have favoured him, and Yoongi thanked the almighty for bringing her to him.

Y/N dared not look at him, her breath unsteady, visible puffs in the cold air. The gal held her head high nonetheless, she was desperately trying not to give in to her intrusive thoughts and turn around, flee for her life, try one last time.

The gun pressed to Daiyu’s back served as a grim reminder, preventing her from succumbing to intrusive thoughts. She could see the tears that were in her eyes as she held tightly her little son. Chan-yeol, held captive and beaten for sins he performed.

The eyes of the guests felt heavy, especially her father’s, still unamused by the young leader’s audacity, keeping his hand tightly on his neck. Forbidden from seeing his own daughter before the ceremony, he seethed with anger, his frustration directed at the young Kkangpae.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed loudly as she climbed the stairs to stand face-to-face with Yoongi, trying to find the courage to look at him. His eyes were full of expectations, he was waiting for this moment.

The exchange of bows signified respect and commitment. If this would be a traditional wedding, not minding their social status in the syndicates, they would continue with drinking rice wine sikhye, symbolizing the blending of their lives.

But this was not a common wedding. This ceremony was different. Altered by the traditions of the Min Clan. The moment arrived when Y/N extended her palm to take the knife from Yoongi’s hands. A cup of rice wine awaited underneath, capturing every drop of her blood. Their union, a pledge of loyalty through soul, blood, and mind.

Y/N met Yoongi’s eyes as she applied pressure to the hand holding the knife, slicing through his skin. A sadistic flicker seemed to pass through his eyes, as if he was enjoying the pain she was inflicting on him.

The rice wine now mixed with their blood and the heavy silence was driving Y/N mad.

The young Kkangpae lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes locked with Yoongi’s. Observing his actions closely, she followed suit, and he took a far bigger sip than her, almost devouring it all.

Setting the cup down they both extended their wounded hands. The golden wedding band that Yoongi slipped onto her finger, seemed to match her engagement ring that sat before it, closer to her knuckle. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at her hand. This was an explicit symbol of her being a taken woman now. No one else to touch, to have, and in their world — to own.

“Darling,” Yoongi whispered quietly, but still managed to keep the demand in his tone visible. Y/N shook her head to get herself to think straight again, realising she had lingered too long on the rings, delaying the public ceremony’s final step.

Huffing out collected air, she slipped the wedding band onto Yoongi’s finger, uniting them.

The monk placed a thick crimson ribbon over their hands, proclaiming them man and wife. No vows echoed like in the far west, no intimate encounters within the public ceremony, despite Yoongi’s yearning to press his lips against hers.

Y/N knew very well that her father scoffed and cursed at the young leader yet again for choosing to follow his wedding traditions and not theirs. And ultimately, there was no paying respect to the elders.

Kkangpae does not bow down to anyone. Nor will his new bride.

Y/N was especially glad she does not have to do that nor the tea ceremony she always found dull. Not that she particularly enjoyed being controlled and swept by the demands of Yoongi’s clan.

The monk’s chants grew louder again, filling the temple with an eerie resonance. Y/N and Yoongi turned to face the gathered members of their syndicates, their families, and the underworld elite who had come to witness this union.

The banquet that followed was a lavish affair as is fit for the Min clan. The tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes, and the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of delicacies prepared by the finest chefs. Nonetheless, Y/N could sense the atmosphere that was charged with tension. As if everyone was prepared to cast guns and kill each other.

Y/N felt the weight of her father’s glare before she could see him eye to eye. Her mimicry has shown nothing more but pure disgust when Wang Zemo shook the scarred leader’s hand congratulating them on their marriage. Y/N did not trust her father. His judgment was always clouded by power.

“You do not seem pleased, father,” Y/N remarked, exposing him. Her mother nervously laughed, hoping to prevent a disturbance between the two clans. She eyed him, expecting an answer from him.

“I’m not pleased that your husband allowed you to be kidnapped,” he retorted, making Yoongi squeeze Y/N’s hip, a possessive gesture.

“But he aided a rescue team in no time, daddy. Meanwhile, you could not even keep me at home,” Y/N fired back, laughing in her father’s face, not believing her own words defended the young Kkangpae that was now amusingly smirking next to her. She could see how her father’s brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fuming at his daughter. Y/N can do that now, she does not owe her father loyalty anymore.

Her mother stopped him before he could raise his hand causing commotion within the two clans, instead he lifted his free arm pointing a warning finger at her. Y/N smiled sweetly and watched her mother pull his arm until he walked with her. Only when he was far away did she ask her new husband.

“Did he give you trouble when you asked for Xiaoli’s hand in marriage on behalf of Taehyung?” The young leader only hummed in response, his eyes were focused on something different from her now, and Y/N could not help but turn her head in the same direction as he was looking.

What unsettled her the most was the presence of Yamamotos. Yoongi nor anyone did not mention single tweet about these poisonous guests. Therefore, she felt her stomach rotate when they were approaching and for the first time in forever, Y/N pressed herself closer to Yoongi, intertwining their fingers together.

Of course, she feared them. She always viewed her father’s tactics and measures quite cruel. But if Wang Zemo was cruel than Yamamoto was brutal. And it was only natural to fear such a brutal syndicate as Yakuza.

“Congratulations, Min,” said the older male in Japanese. He did not bother to speak the tongue of his enemy’s territory, but he knew they would understand perfectly. The man had such a strong and intense aura around him. He ruled with fear, that thing was obvious.

He held his hand to Yoongi who accepted it for both your and his behalf, shaking it with firm grip, piercing his eyes alongside.

“You got yourself a fine woman, Min, —” he leered at Y/N, his gaze filled with hunger. A wave of disgust washed over her.

“She has caused you quite a bit of trouble, has she not?” he continued, finishing his remark. Y/N understood that their marriage was a calculated move that would redefine the power dynamics within the criminal underworld. Whether Yamamoto perceived the Mins as a threat remained an assumption on her part.

“Not as much trouble as you sending that foolish boy to his death,” Yoongi added, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch. Slowly, her eyes lifted to Yoongi, whose gaze now held an intensity that made the scar glow with anger. Y/N did not understand any bit of it. Had he not come willingly? No, that simply cannot be, there had to be an ulterior motive to commit such a sin.

“Certainly, we knew you would handle him and your bride just as you saw fit.”

“Surely, —” Yoongi replied with a dark undertone and a sinister smile. A wave of nausea rolled through Y/N. If they lingered in the presence of the Japanese Yakuza any longer, she might empty her stomach right there. Thankfully, they bid a seemingly cordial farewell, leaving to take their seats behind the tables and Y/N could at least breathe out.

“Yoongi—” she began once they were out of earshot. He cast her a brief glance before pivoting to examine her, noting her even paler face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she stumbled the words out of her system fast. Y/N released Yoongi’s hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh God,” her sister’s whisper reached her ears, a reminder of their public setting, alerting her that she is still in public, and the eyes will pry.

Y/N swiftly walked — not ran, to avoid drawing attention — towards the nearest door leading outside to the cold. Once in the cold air again, she emptied her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Y/N heard her sister’s voice yet again, just before her hands were soothingly rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the cold air in. She was grateful it was her sister offering comfort, not the groom. At least Xiaoli realized that Y/N wouldn’t want Yoongi to see her now. Nor any other prying eyes.

“It’s not okay, Xiaoli,” said Y/N through tears, feeling a profound, heart-wrenching anxiety and fear settling in her core.

“They fucking sent him to rape me, and God knows what else.”

“And he did not manage to do that. Hoseok took care of that. Jungkook took care of that, —”

Y/N recalled, her mind flashing to Jungkook storming into her room, his concern evident as he bombarded her with questions about her well-being. Guilt weighed on him for getting entangled with Chan-yeol instead of going straight to her. As her new brother, he felt an obligation to protect her, just like Hoseok, who would go to any lengths for her.

And that leaves Y/N to wonder. She pondered the sincerity behind their sympathy. Was it because of her supposed relationship with their brother, or was there a genuine connection forming? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her aunt sensed the potential for them to become family, to be her home.

“—Leader Min will see to it that he is brought to justice,” Xiaoli continued, always sure to express her love for Yoongi.

Y/N looked down at her stained dress with a sense of pity, both for herself and the situation. A deep sense of sadness remained.

“I just wish it did not have to be this way,” she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “I wish I could have chosen this path for myself, rather than having it forced upon me.”

“But this is not the world or lifetime where you could do that,” her sister replied, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a glimmer of understanding.

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “He used to be my friend; you know. Despite what he did, I never thought he would die in front of my eyes, —” her words held honesty, tinged with something else.

“And I never thought that I would be relieved they came in time and shot him dead, Xiaoli,” Y/N admitted, finally getting it off her chest.

“Taehyung-oppa said they paid him to do it.” Xiaoli disclosed. Y/N dreaded this scenario; she suspected that Chen did not act out of love for her. No one who loved someone would commit such a horrendous act.

Y/N scoffed, a desperate laugh escaping her. “Do you know what will happen to Chan-yeol?” She hadn’t had the chance to discuss this with Yoongi, leaving her in the dark and feeling consumed by it.

“He is held captive. That is all I know,” Xiaoli replied while helping Y/N stand. She needed to change her dress; there was no way she could return in this state.

“Y/N?” Xiaoli asked. Her older sister only hummed in response.

“If you attempt to run ever again, Daiyu is going to die—” Y/N paused for a moment.

“—He won’t hurt me, I’ll be betrothed to Taehyung-oppa. But Daiyu is still in the open.”

“Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“No,” Xiaoli replied, “but I talked to Kkangpae Min. He confirmed his intentions.”

“And it did not move you one bit?” Said Y/N surprised with what degree of calmness her sister is speaking of this.

Yoongi wanted to make it abundantly clear that he would take drastic measures if she attempted to escape again. He wanted her to fear the consequences, to be consumed by the dread of what might happen if she defied him; deliberately informing Xiaoli, knowing the bond between the sisters was a weak point for Y/N.

“I would not dare to go against his word.” Y/N only smiled sadly at her sister’s words. She does not understand. How could she?

The way to her chamber felt endless. Y/N was acutely aware of her disheveled state and the need for privacy. Another set of footsteps behind her and Xiaoli quickened her heart with anxiety.

“Y/N?” The soothing voice of the doctor, Seokjin, reached her ears, and she could not have been more relieved. Without turning around, she responded.

“I just need to change. I’m fine, Seokjin.”

Y/N wasted no time in stepping inside her room once they finally reached it. Seokjin followed, his demeanour calm and professional, yet she sensed a hint of concern in his eyes.

As she began changing out of the crimson robe from the wedding ceremony, Y/N couldn’t deny the unease that lingered within her.

“You can tell him I will be back in a little while, Seokjin.” Y/N turned to Seokjin, offering a weak smile.

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” Seokjin nodded; his expression was gentle.

“It���s just the anxiety.” Said Y/N. Her face still bore the traces of tears and turmoil, but she resolved to face the celebration with as much grace as she could muster. She knew that in the world she inhabited, appearances were everything.

Seokjin stood by the door, waiting patiently. “I’ll change and come right away,” she promised to the older male.

“Very well,” he answered simply and closed the door behind him leaving her and Xiaoli alone.

The intricate layers of fabric and silk were carefully removed, revealing a simpler, yet equally elegant, hanfu beneath — this one was a shade of soft lavender.

“Do you want to wear the hanbok instead?” Xiaoli asked. Does she? Just this morning, she insisted that her wedding dress will be a representation of the culture she is coming from. Looking over at the beautiful crimson and royal blue hanbok that she was supposed to wear as her wedding dress, Y/N hesitated.

“I don’t feel like wearing a wedding dress anymore, Xiaoli.” Her sister nodded in understanding, but beneath her supportive gaze, there lingered a hint of disappointment. Xiaoli had hoped that Y/N would fully embrace the culture of the Min clan, a desire likely shared by the clan’s leader. However, Y/N’s desire was to stay true to her Chinese roots for a little bit longer. If this is the only way she can remain herself, she is willing to rebel against him as long as she can.

She heard her sister sigh as she handed her the crimson flowery qipao. “You could at least meet him in the middle.” Xiaoli muttered, her disappointment evident.

“Xiaoli, if you did not notice I’m having a really bad day today.” Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. She had endured enough turmoil for one day, and the idea of appeasing Yoongi’s wishes no longer held much appeal.

“I understand—” Xiaoli wanted to say before Y/N interrupted her with the welling tears in her eyes and raised voice.

“No, you do not understand, Xiaoli!” Said Y/N, sliding down to a lower cushion chair, hugging her head with her small hands.

“But you are not even trying, Y/N,” Xiaoli retorted.

“Because I’m gasping for air every single time! I’m drowning, and yet I cannot learn to swim—” she cried out, clutching the fabric of her hanfu to the point she feared it would tear.

“All of you are blindly trying to convince me that this is the best that could ever happen to me—” she continued.

“—like you’re some kind of Gods that shall decide one’s fate.”

Xiaoli sighed, her frustration and discomfort evident. “All we do is care for you, truly, madly, deeply.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and defiance.

“Are you listening to yourself, sister?!” Y/N did not even give her a chance to answer.

“—We are family, by blood, Xiaoli, I thought you cared about me to be more than just a pawn—” this time Xiaoli interrupted her older sister.

“And because we are family, I am trying to protect what matters to all of us.” Xiaoli knelt beside her, trying to console Y/N.

“What about what matters to me?” Y/N retorted; her voice shaky. “What about my dreams, my choices? He took that from me.”

Xiaoli hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We all have to make sacrifices. And I know that you will make the best out of this.”

Y/N looked at her sister, a mix of disbelief and sadness in her eyes. “Is this the price of my freedom?”

“If this was another life, you could have what you truly desire.” Said Xiaoli. Y/N wiped away her tears before she spoke.

“I won’t let—” Y/N inquired.

“The consequences will be severe.” Said Xiaoli before Y/N could utter her thought as if she knew what she wanted to say.

“Remember that before you will do anything.”

The distant strains of music and laughter reached their ears when Xiaoli opened the door, walking through it in the direction of the celebration. Y/N put on a mask of composure, her posture regal, and her expression neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see the turmoil within her. Tonight, she would play the role expected of her, all while strategizing her next moves in this complex and dangerous game.

“Min Buin?!” a voice called out, unfamiliar and tinged with a strange mixture of reverence and unease — it sent a shiver down her spine.

A man stood right in the middle of the hall behind her. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit that exuded authority, a stark departure from the opulence of the occasion.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder who this enigmatic figure was and why he had singled her out with that title,

“Min Buin?!” He repeated again. Y/N turned her head slightly to Xiaoli, now a few steps closer to the banquet, her expression wary.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, a hint of protectiveness in her voice. The man did not seem to be perturbed by Y/N’s defensive stance. Instead, he offered a faint, cryptic smile.

“Do you not know?” His tone took a different direction. He stepped closer to them.

“Y/N,” Xiaoli gulped down, her voice trembling. “That is Yamamoto Itsuki.” By how her sister spoke Y/N understood that this is the very man she was supposed to marry.

“Go.” She whispered to her sister who did not hesitate to run down the corridor and alert anyone. Only once Y/N was sure that her sister was far away did she speak.

“What is your business with me?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. The man’s smile widened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the dim light.

“Business?” He laughed. Y/N’s mind raced as she absorbed his words. She had been thrust into this world, initially a pawn in a dangerous game, but now it seemed that her role was evolving.

“I have unfinished business with you, yes.” He said after a few silent moments. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

“I’m very much sure that a business between us never started in the first place; therefore, it seems to me we have nothing to talk about,” said Y/N, swiftly turning her body back to its original position, ready to flee to the banquet and seek help.

As she predicted, this day could only get worse as she found herself pinned to the nearest wall. Y/N could feel his breath on her face, a strong large hand enveloped her throat, pressing her to the wall harder and making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s breathing skipped intervals.

“You are one greedy ungrateful little bitch, are you not?” He spat the words into her face, squeezing her neck even tighter. Her hands automatically rose to his arm, trying to push him away. Her head started to spin, and she could feel the redness that rushed to her cheeks as she gasped for air that would fill her lungs.

“You were supposed to be mine!” His scream echoed in the empty corridor. Out of all the endings of her life, she truly did not foresee this one. There was a strike of a quick moment where she thought that death would be her redemption and eternal freedom she wished for. However, Y/N still had the will to fight for her life. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to push his hand away one more time, but he was too strong.

A click of a reloading gun seemed too muffled for her ears to notice, but when the sudden absence of pressure on her throat disappeared, and she could finally welcome the air in, she thanked God for being still in his favour.

Her knees have denounced their service, and she found herself on the ground. She went to touch her sore throat when a familiar hand did it before her. Y/N’s breath was still rocky, and she heard an annoying ringing in her ears. She barely could hear what Yoongi was screaming at the man who was recently near killing her.

“Y/N?” She heard Jimin’s voice, but she could not figure out where it was coming from. Her head was spinning like a carousel, and her vision was still a bit blurry. She wanted to speak up but she found it hard to do so.

“Can you breathe for me, darling?” She tried to stabilize her breathing but couldn’t stop panting for air.

“You have to try and calm down.” Seokjin was speaking to her, and by her blurry vision she saw another four figures around her. Two holding the younger Yamamoto for Yoongi, the other two attending to her.

Y/N went to try to speak again, even though she was fully aware that only high-pitched tones would come out that would make her words unrecognisable.

“I—” she tried, “I want—” she finally gulped down the little amount of saliva she had in her mouth.

“Bring her water right now.” Seokjin understood quickly. Her hearing was coming back to life and same for her vision. She could now see Jungkook and Hoseok dragging the man away from them, and Yoongi swiftly turning to examine the damage the man had done to his beloved.

By the time he fell down to his knees, cupping her cheeks, trying to read from her eyes, Jimin had returned with the water she needed. Yoongi helped her to hold the glass in both of her hands and drink it whole in one go.

“I do not want to stay here tonight,” she said with a raspy voice, feeling every muscle in her throat. Yoongi looked at her with worry in his eyes. He promised she would be safe with him, and within less than twelve hours, she was abducted, almost raped, and nearly choked to death.

“I am so sorry, baby,” said the young leader with remorse. “I am going to make it better, I promise.” Y/N’s ‘better’ however, contained something else than his ‘better’.

“We cannot leave right away—” tears escaped her eyes, falling heavy and hot on her dress. Yoongi was the Kkangpae and the enemy’s clan member just assaulted his wife. This cannot slip out without consequences.

“How dare you disrespect me and my wife this way,” said Yoongi to the older male from Yamamoto’s clan who had barely sat down in Yoongi’s office.

The younger offender, who had laid his hand on Y/N, was still firmly held by Hoseok and Jungkook. She sat in Yoongi’s office chair, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the purple bruises on her neck stark against her skin, certainly not flattering jewelry.

“How dare you disrespect our clan, Kkangpae Min.” The older male retorted, testing the younger leader’s patience. Yoongi clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to maintain control.

“This is far too unforgivable against what you assume I did,” he spat out quickly. Y/N wished she could just hide away and never come back, but as the Kkangpae’s wife, a Buin, she had to be present.

Yamamoto scoffed. “You are playing the game dirty, so are we—”

“Take this as a payback for meddling in our affairs, Kkangpae Min—” the older male started.

“And as far as traditions goes, she is yet to be your woman by our law and God’s will,” alluding to the inevitable — they had to consummate the marriage. Y/N knew this and had been making peace with the fact throughout the day.

“You won’t have to worry about that, Mr. Yamamoto,” Yoongi was always known for his cockiness whilst dealing with enemies, but he was also the most cautious man alive, however today was a misstep he did not wish to ever make. All this only proved he could not leave her alone — not because she might flee, but because someone could take her away from him. And he would never let her go.

“Watch me fucking continue meddling—” Yoongi retorted. “I see that you know the goddamn rules; I shall have his hand.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She did not expect him to go unpunished for what he did to her, which would make Yoongi look unfit to rule. Itsuki started to squirm in their hold, attempting to break free.

“You want a war?” Yamamoto asked with venom in his voice.

“You apparently desire to have it when you assaulted my wife twice in one day.” Yoongi spat and signaled to Hoseok to bring Itsuki forward. Jungkook grabbed the hand that had been on Y/N’s neck less than an hour ago.

“Father!” Itsuki screamed with madness in his voice.

“Here you have it, you impatient imbecile!” his father screamed back at him, frustrated with both himself and his son. The plan had been to warn the Mins, not infuriate them.

Y/N watched Yoongi wordlessly as he took a short katana from Namjoon who appeared out of nowhere. The blade was sharp as a viper’s fang, and it gleamed in the dim light sourcing from the fireplace. The hilt, wrapped in silk, the colour of dried blood, felt cool and ominous in Yoongi’s hand.

She knew he’d have to swing it more than once to actually cut off Itsuki’s hand. Y/N gulped down her fear, pressing both hands to her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped when he first wielded the blade, piercing through Itsuki’s skin and colliding with bone, breaking it open. Burgundy blood streamed down to the wooden floor. Y/N clenched her eyes shut at the painful scream that followed and bounced slightly on the chair at the loud thump of the hand hitting the ground.

“You have one hour to leave our land,” Yoongi declared, aiming the katana at the leading Yamamoto. The son dropped to the ground, cradling his arm, staring at the severed hand and screaming in pain, muttering threats to the Min clan.

“You chose.” The older male looked over to Y/N who was still very much speechless and in utter shock from what occurred before her eyes. Yoongi’s gaze, momentarily lingering on his wife with furrowed brows, but quickly returned to Yamamoto. Their eyes locked, and the older man extended his hand to retrieve his injured son from the floor, leading him out of the room.

Yoongi dropped the katana onto the ground, tilting his head backwards in a brief prayer to the Lord. The room remained cloaked in heavy silence — not a peaceful silence, but one pregnant with the weight of a grim decision. A choice had been made, and its consequences were bound to unfold in darkness. This was a proclamation of war.

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Yamamoto’s hand was laying limp in a pool of fresh blood. As Yoongi straightened and turned his gaze toward her, his eyes were a tempest of conflicting emotions.

“You chose.”

Yoongi echoed Yamamoto’s words more as a question, his voice carrying a low, sombre resignation. He did not demand an answer; he knew what Yamamoto was talking about. Glancing down at his black shoes, now soaked with the blood of his enemy, Yoongi let out a soft laugh at the irony of her choosing him.

He understood the possibility that her choice might stem from self-preservation, realizing he could annihilate her entire family the moment she disappeared. Yet, his own selfishness shielded him from that harsh reality. Yoongi desperately wanted to believe that she returned to him and him alone.

Her eyes grew too heavy to stay open during the car ride back to the sanctuary. She allowed them a brief respite, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her into a momentary rest. The events of this day had been like a tempest, tearing through the delicate fabric of her reality and leaving chaos in its wake.

Y/N’s strength was something Yoongi admired, yet even he recognized the toll this day had taken on her. The hypocrite in him thinking that kind of evil will lead her to seek solace in him, perhaps finding that this was where she truly belonged — by his side.

She could have turned and run when the chance presented itself, disappearing into the wild. But she did not, and that is what mattered to Yoongi. For the first time, Y/N found herself yearning to return to the sanctuary, back to her golden cage.

Y/N knew that this night would be a reflection of the complexities of their relationship, a dance between desire and the darkness that surrounded them. Y/N understood that despite the arduous day, this had to be done. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and into the dark.

She walked slightly behind her now husband, letting him lead the way to the house she did not quite recognise. Before she mustered the courage to ask questions, he spoke first.

“I grew up in this house—” he whispered into the cold air, “a hot spring is right behind it.”

Y/N observed the house built into the massive stone walls of the valley, surrounded by tall pine trees. It was too dark for her to see just how tall they actually are, but the little flickering lights visible through the windows granted her a little peak.

“I want to spend tonight with you here,” he turned to face her. Yoongi could not tear his gaze away from her, adoring every detail—her eyes, cheeks, nose, hair, mouth. But if you would ask him, how did he come to be so obsessed with her, he would not give a cohesive answer. The inexplicable obsession he felt seemed right, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. He believed that even if she did not feel it now, she would eventually.

“Just the two of us.”

He took a little step to be closer to her. If Y/N understood correctly, this is the only place where they can be truly alone without prying eyes and ears. Yoongi wanted to talk and what’s more, he intended to do more than just talk tonight.

“Aight,” she replied slowly with her still sore throat. He had never seen her this calm, and he wanted to enjoy every minute she is not fighting against him — despite the disturbing circumstances that led to her current state of mind.

“Can we have some tea first?” she asked with little hope that he would agree to slow down a little bit. He chuckled at her sudden innocence and extended his arm to caress her cheek.

“Course we can, my love,” he smiled softly.

And so, they found themselves once again by the comforting embrace of a fireplace, patiently waiting for the tea to brew in the teapot’s gentle whistle.

There was something about this scenery that Yoongi could not help but love. Y/N, seated on the fur rug next to the warmth of the crackling flames, found solace in these quiet moments. After the tumultuous events of the day, it was a sanctuary they both needed. At least, she felt at peace in moments like these.

“I am sorry.” he suddenly confessed, his eyes revealing the genuine sorrow within. Today had left Yoongi conflicted, riding the highs of marrying the woman he desired while being weighed down by guilt for the day’s events.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice devoid of emotion as she calmly asked, “About what exact part?”

“All of it,” he shook his head. Y/N chuckled, and confusion flickered in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Are you not going to punish me, Kkangpae?” Here she goes.

“I do desire to know your relation to the boy, I won’t lie, but no.”

“There is no relation.”

“Are you sure? We talked about this already — no lies.”

“I’m not lying, he did fancy me, yes—” Yoongi’s grip on his hands tightened.

“—I thought we were friends, but he was not keen to flee away with me when I needed to,” she admitted.

“Do you mourn him?” Yoongi’s voice held a serious tone.

“I mourn the boy he was, not what he apparently became after we parted—” she began, carefully, collecting her thoughts.

“—they paid him to go and attempt rape me, Yoongi. I pray for his soul to find its peace after what sins he committed,” a tear escaped her eye, a sob followed. Yoongi leaned in, holding her small hands in an attempt to provide comfort.

“It was horrible,” she cried out and finally, she opened up to him.

“Amidst all the bad today, I’m so proud of you—” Y/N raised her blurry eyesight to meet him, awaiting an explanation.

“—You could have run, and you did not. You chose to come back to me.”

“I promise, I swear to you — I will never ever let that happen again—” he assured, moving closer to her.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the yet unspoken. “Can I get the letter, please?” Y/N whispered.

“In the morning.” He answered, intending to prolong it to ensure her continued good behaviour and obedience.

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited. 

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

The hanok, with its wooden beams and paper windows, seemed to breathe with the rhythm of their footsteps. The aroma of tea still lingered within the walls, all the way back in the house.

“Pray with me?” a soft plea that resonated with the hallowed surroundings. They settled on top of the low cushion bed; he held both her hands in his. The subtle sounds of the valley outside, muffled by the hanji-covered windows, crackling fire nearby — the low hum of their shared prayer filled the room, blending with the whispers of the winter wind outside.

As they concluded their prayers, the world outside the hanok continued its silent ballet with nature. Yoongi slowly let her hands fall into her lap. Y/N kept looking at her hands, biting her lower lip.

He extended his hands pulling out the golden pins from her hair, releasing them.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered into her lips that were anticipating his. She looked into his eyes one last time before she slowly closed them, awaiting him to take the first step. Y/N could feel both his hands on the swell of her bottom, slightly squeezing it and thus making her pant into his mouth. He pulled her into his lap, not distancing their close proximity. Not now. Not ever.

A deep groan released from his throat when she fully sat down in his lap. Y/N was straddling him, feeling his stiff manhood tightly pressed against her core making her breath hitch. He moved his hand from its place on her butt cheek to the swell of her clothed breast.

“Let me make love to you.” He kissed her lips very gently, waiting for her response. She knew he would do so even if she would not give him her consent. And once she shyly nodded her head, he dove right in and kissed her very deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He was hungry and only she could sate him.

He continued to press himself against her core, creating at least some friction in between, aiming to hit the right spot and make her sing for him.

Yoongi was trying to trace down the opening of her qipao, feeling the delicately made buttons on her chest. Not for a moment he stopped kissing her, unbuttoning her dress and hiking it up from its hem on her thighs, showing her undergarments and pulling it all the way up her head —throwing the peace of clothing that provided her warmth, perhaps even a security blanket, away.

Her neck was his next target. He bent his head making hers to lean back to allow him access. Yoongi layered down butterfly kisses all over her, now, naked, bruised neckline. “You are such a good girl.” He muttered into her skin, caressing her bottom while he placed his hand back to her right breast.

Y/N could feel her nipples stiffen under the change of temperature, or perhaps the excitement her body was going through, which she did not want to admit. He took one of her hands who were inactive till now and placed it on his chest near the small buttons of his shirt. Trying to send a mental message for her to touch him too — undress him too.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses. Out of this ectasis. But she could not. His work on her neck was becoming troublesome, not mentioning his roaming hands. She was never touched by man lovingly, but she could not deny that he is making her heart skip just by teasing her.

Her small shaky fingers finally reached to the buttons whilst he was abusing her chest with hot kisses. She unbuttoned the first one, then the second until she reached the last. “That’s it baby.” He encouraged her to continue slipping his shirt down from his body.

He straightened himself and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice filled with desire and longing. “I love you.” Said Yoongi when he slowly slid his hand in between them cupping her clothed heat. Millions of little butterflies erupted in her lower belly, her breath hitched, silent moan coming out of her swollen lips when he started to rub circles, moving her clitoris through the fabric. She could feel herself leaning into him, her body responding to his touch.

The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. He caressed her back until he reached the opening of her western style cone bra that she wore under the dress. Popping it open her eyes snapped open too. But the pleasure was overshadowing her sound judgment, and he knew she would at some point try to resent him a little, that’s why he did not hesitate to throw it the same direction as her qipao, not wasting time and taking her already hard nipple into his mouth. Her eyes widened; pupils dilated.

He was taking his sweet time loving her every inch before he laid her down on the bed, hovering above her. Dominating her. Yoongi’s hands moved with a gentle urgency, his kisses becoming more fervent as their passion ignited. He hooked his fingers into her undergarments, not giving her a chance to protest when he quickly pulled them down her legs, tepid air hitting her centre.

It’s when he went to spread her legs touching her knees she took his wrist into her small hand, looking deep down into his eyes, tears swelling in, realisation hitting her. Yoongi did not seem to be angry or displeased. He understood why this action triggered her and therefore he led her hands to his belt, giving her a chance to yet again give him her consent to proceed. He wanted her to fall in love with him, not to fear him. He dreaded the day when he will have to use different measures to convince, she is his woman and no one else can touch her.

The little rat was a big mistake. Yoongi did not expect him to go as far as to attempt to rape her. But he knew that the boy was coming. He knew it’s Yakuza’s move, and he knew when they would strike,and he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for was Chan-yeol’s betrayal. Nobody is betraying Kkangpae Min, nor no one will dare to touch his wife after what he will do to the traitor.

“You’re alright, baby.” He attempted to assure her, putting her small hands on his belt. Y/N’s fingers were yet again shaking when she was undoing his belt. She was now fully aware of her laying naked body. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin.

As Yoongi’s belt came undone, he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength and resilience that radiated from her. She had endured so much in such a short span of time, yet here she was, willingly surrendering herself to him.

He pulled down the pants, together with his undergarments. A loud thud followed once they fell down to the floor. He bent down to her belly and placed a small kiss just below her belly button and one slightly lower to her yet uninhabited womb.

“I need to help you relax your muscles a little.” Said he. She felt his hot breath on her inner thighs, shaking in his hold. He slid his hand down to her core yet again, touching her without any barrier for the first time. Y/N took a deep breath and another one when he slid his finger down her folds and up, making her pussy produce wet juices. His lips were on her collarbone when he unexpectedly slid his index finger inside her making her moan loudly, yelp even.

“Shhh…” He cooked at her, kissing her lips passionately, while thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her heat. She could feel a prick of pain in the area Yoongi’s finger occupied. Y/N’s moans became a mix of moderate pain and pleasure altogether.

She could feel his other hand move away from caressing her hip to his member which he started to slowly stroke. Y/N could see that he was more than ready — his cock big, stiff and red, pre-cum leaking from its tip. He wanted to dive into her heat badly. But he needed to stretch her out a little more, so she won’t suffer that much pain. Yoongi smiled when he spotted her eyeing his body through half-lidded eyes, panting, yet being focused specifically on his manhood.

He towered above her, pulling his finger out of her heat. Sudden emptiness surrounded her walls that were finally adjusting to the intruder. She gasped when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him. Her legs were on each side of his hips. Y/N observed his body, his toned skin, slight muscles, his well-built torso — all the way down his V line, adorned with soft hair.

She snapped out of her thought train once he climbed on top of her and pressed his manhood in between her folds, sliding it up and down, covering it in her juices. Moan escaped her mouth once he put a little bit of pressure, stimulating her clitoris. He moved his hips slowly, trying to hold himself to not to thrust it in just yet.

He raised his left hand and intertwined his fingers with hers pinning it above her head while attacking her lips again. Y/N’s hand instinctively slapped his chest trying to push him away just a little, but his little smirk into her lips assured her that he wanted that kind of reaction from her.

And when she awaited it the least, he thrust himself into her, making her bite down his lower lip. He groaned at the sensation. His lip was bleeding, but he could not care less. “No—” She let go of his lip and an incoherent sound came out of her throat, eyes welling up with tears.

“Yoongi, it hurts too much.” She stated the obvious, crying whilst trying to breath. Enormous heat wave just hit her, and she was desperately wanting to make her head stop spinning.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered into her lips, trying to take his own breathing under control. She feels like heaven to him. His everlasting home. His love. This is where he was supposed to be all his life.

He tried to move very slowly, making her cry even more, but he couldn't stop. “It will stop I promise.” He kissed her tears away, stretching her walls to the fullest with his manhood. Silently moaning into her lips.

It took quite a while for her to adjust to the stretch and tension, fullness inside of her. Yoongi explored every inch of her naked body, his hands caressing her with a gentleness that belied his previous actions. In this moment, she was not defined by the traumas of her past or the expectations of their marriage. Their bodies moved in perfect sync once the pain yielded a little.

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled loud moans and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the fireplace mirrored the growing heat between them, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through their veins.

Yoongi’s movements became a little faster, more deliberate to draw as much pleasure from her as he could. He wanted to show her that their union was not solely physical but a one of love. With each whisper of reassurance and each gentle caress, he aimed to erase any lingering fears and insecurities that she held.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy after a while, he could feel her shaking against him. But not from fear but from pleasure. He mustered what he could to take her over the edge for the very first time in her life. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach tying somewhat knot that she wanted them to release badly. Her hand slipped into his hair, tucking it tightly whilst he was thrusting into her heat, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He was very close, but he wanted her to come with her. And as they were reaching the peak of passion, their bodies trembling with pleasure, Yoongi held Y/N close, their hearts beating in sync.

Their moans became louder and louder every second they were nearing the summit. “Yoongi—!” she screamed his name out when she was sure the knot was about to burst. “Baby—” he could not even finish a sentence he meant to say once she came undone under him, trembling from the pleasure, her mouth agape, eyes tightly closed — her walls still vibrating around him. Not even a second later his loud cry followed as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside of her. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him, her mouth still slightly open as she was panting. Her eyes seemed glossy but so were his. He caressed the side of her thigh whilst gently kissing her swollen lips, whispering how much he loves her.

Slowly pulling out of her heat, substituting with his fingers plunging his cum mixed with hints for crimson blood, back into her heat he lowered his body yet again to her belly. Kissing where he assumed her womb was, he whispered a prayer.

“May the Lord bless us with a miracle.”

I N T E R L O G U E

The father’s rage reverberated in the confined space of the car. “You could not have just fucking waited, you little prick!” his frustration boiling over.

Still grappling with the pain of his missing arm, the one-handed son shot back defiantly, blood seeping through the bandages “You said everything would work out in our favour!”

The car they were sitting in was slowing down until it stopped altogether. The older male looked around in confusion. They were nowhere near the docks for their escape to Fukuoka.

“It would if you’d just shut your damn cock instincts, you stupid boy!” the Yakuza leader hissed, attempting to keep his anger in check.

Blinded by fury, he failed to notice the car taking a series of wrong turns, leading them into a desolate no man’s land. When the driver turned to face them, blood reached his ears.

“Kkangpae Min sends you good wishes on your journey to hell.”

to be continued

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: f finally yall!!!!! as I already said this chapter was a lot, ain't gonna lie about that, but everything is going according to the plan so don't worry. This was my first smut in english and I'm so scared of yall's reaction... Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was an emotional roller-coaster to write, especially the implied non-con and smut after all the reader had to endure, poor gal. I love to see your comments that basically express that you understand the story's essence and for that I love you all so much ♥ We'll see what will happen in next chapter :))

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter! Love you bae!!!!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts

[hyperfix-wip]

Next to You

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader/ Spider-Punk x GN!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Author's Note: I am not sorry @the-kr8tor , @yumeaoka-chan , @pleaktale. And @rexlroze , YOU have specifically kickstarted the Loser!Hobie rabbit hole, and I have now got myself into loving these losers lmao. I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading for me and helping me out with this piece! Also, this piece contains some spoilers for Arcane Season 2, so don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled!

Tags: Lovestruck!Hobie, Loser!R, Nerd!R, Fluff, Spoilers for Arcane Season 2, Some Explicit Language

Hobie knew what he signed up for when he asked you out.

Despite your typically quiet personality, he knew you were passionate at heart. He knew that when he jumped through the portal to your universe and landed on your bed, only to see you bawling your eyes out over an animated show before you screamed bloody murder from his sudden arrival and fell down on the floor. He knew that when he looked around your room and saw all the posters of different shows and artists covering your walls, all your favorite books and figurines lined up on your shelves, the sketchbooks filled with all of your favorite characters in your specific art style. He knew that when his eyes landed on your pajama bottoms with some cute bison-like mascot from a show he overheard you talk about with Miles at the Spider Society. 

Even if you were scrambling off the floor, too flustered to make any coherent words to him while struggling to pause your show, he knew he liked this new side of you he discovered. And he especially knew he he was smitten with you the moment he asked you about the show you were watching, watching your eyes instantly light up before you drag him onto the bed and restart the show for him, obliviously nestling against his side while you eagerly ran your mouth about the premise of the show.

Yeah, he knew what he signed up for when he asked you out after binging the whole series with you.

Which was why he was prepared for you bawling your eyes out and smearing clear snot on his shirt while he cradled you in his arms. He gently shushed you while the end credits quietly ran in the background, running his long nimble fingers through your hair before pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“ ’s okay, lovie,” he whispered against your skin as he peppered more tender kisses, “I know, I know…”

Hiccups and sobs wracked up your body as you buried your face into his chest, your voice muffled into the cotton fabric. “It’s– It’s not fair! They were– they were together again! The writers couldn’t even let them be together for one full day?!”

Hobie quietly pulled the fluffy duvet from the end of your bed over the two of you, wrapping you into a tight embrace within the blanket and in his arms. “I know, darling, I know…”

“It’s just– it hurts so much! The fact that Isha was the one who did that, and it just paralleled with–”

“Yes, I know, luv–”

“Like, they didn’t have make Isha’s last moments an alternate version of Powder’s attempt in Season One where Powder’s plan worked–”

“I know, sweetheart–”

“And the pastel colors during the memory sequence for Isha– fuck– she basically remembers the Undercity as this bright and fun place because of Jinx, and not only did Jinx and Vi had to relive the trauma of losing Vander through Warwick again, but Jinx had to basically watch her baby sister, her inner child, and a version of herself sacrifice herself in front of her eyes…”

A hiccup wracked up your body again before fresh tears flooded your red-rimmed eyes, and Hobie wrapped his arms tighter around you while you sobbed into his chest again. “Fuck– I can’t– I don’t think I’m gonna last for the next three episodes–”

Hobie shushed you gently again while brushing his lips along your hairline, his fingers gently scratching your scalp while his other hand reached out for the cup of water he set to the side before you played the new episode. “C’mon, sit up for me, lovie,” he whispered against your forehead before carefully shifting the both of you up against the headboard. “Don’ wan’cha ta turn int’a raisin on me…”

You could only nod with a sniffle in response, blinking away the bleary tears in your eyes and snorting the clear mucus back up your red nose, before you sat up and grabbed the plastic cup from him. The moment you took a sip, the cool water instantly flooded and alleviated your raw throat, and you slowly drained the cup until it turned up empty.

A small smile curled up on Hobie’s lips as he gingerly grabbed the cup from your hands and set it back onto your nightstand. Without another thought Hobie then grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, goosebumps instantly pricking his skin as the cold air hit it, before gently pushing the shirt against your nose.

“Blow.”

You instantly obliged and blew your nose into his shirt, and he carefully pinched your nose and rubbed the snot off before tossing it across the room and on top of the pile of your dirty laundry in your hamper.

“Kobe.”

“Still don’ know who tha’ bloke is, but sure, lovie.”

A shaky chortle slipped through your lips before Hobie pulled you back into his arms and wrapped the blanket over you two again.

“Y’know, you could've gotten up to get a napkin instead of using your shirt–”

“It is too bloody cold to get out of this bed,” Hobie snickered while tucking your head underneath his chin. “Plus my shirt was already your personal snot rag, so it didn’t make a difference.”

You rolled your eyes with a sniffle before you nuzzled against his chest, and he in turn pressed his lips against your forehead again with a slight smirk. Your television gently illuminated the both of you in the dark, and you glanced up to see the blue light glinting from his piercings and his warm, dark eyes. His face softened at the sight of you, with splotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes, and he couldn't help but find you adorable in that moment. His arms pulled away in lieu of cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he gently tilted your head up to brush his lips against yours in a brief, comforting kiss. Your lips reluctantly parted from each other, with you trying to chase his lips to steal another one in vain, before he wrapped his arms around you in another tight embrace.

“...was this season as good as you hoped it would be, lovie?”

“God, yes, it’s so fucking good.”

Hobie huffed out a small chuckle while you tangled his lanky legs with yours. “Like, I can’t wait for Act Three to come out in a few days, but I also know it’s going to hurt so much watching those last episodes and have to watch the conclusion of it…”

Hobie nodded along with a tender smile as he gazed back down, his chest warming up as you started your cute little rant again. One of his hands trailed up your back and lingered on the back of your neck, gently massaging it while you continued talking.

“Like, I know there is going to be a clusterfuck of emotional damage for me at the end of this season. We still gotta see Ekko and Heimerdinger, we gotta see what’s gonna happen next for Jinx, Vi and Caitlyn, and we also have to deal with Jayce and Viktor– oh my god, that fucking scene of Jayce aiming that fucking cannon at Viktor–”

Hobie’s smile grew softer the more he listened to you, your voice still slightly raw and hoarse from the prolonged crying and your eyes glinted with the same eager light he saw that fateful day months ago, and his chest warms up just the same, his heart just as smitten with you as before.

You instantly stopped talking the moment a weight pressed down against the top of your head, and you pushed your head up to see Hobie’s eyes closed and his lips parted with shallow breaths. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the sleeping man huddled against you, his demeanor relaxed and languid as his lips curled up into a small, boyish smile, before you carefully pulled the blanket over him and pressed a gentle peck against his lips and nestled against him to join him in his slumber.

-----

Song Recommendation of the Day courtesy of @pinksugarscrub

[itsybitsybluesy]

THE PERFECT ROMANTIC GETAWAY: ONE WEEK FOR TWO AT SCENIC, LAKESIDE MOUNTAIN LODGE

CHAPTER 1 / ELUCIEN / EXPLICIT / 1 OF 3

There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain thought several times that they should really just call the whole thing off. “It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her. “Which is why you have to take them.”

🎁  🎁  🎁 

LMAO HAPPY ACOTAR GIFT EXCHANGE @huntquinlan!!! surprise surprise, i accidentally revealed myself as your secret santa AND THEN TURNED AROUND AND DOUBLE-CROSSED YA BY PRETENDING I WAS YOUR NEW, DIFFERENT SECRET SANTA... did you guess? i am selfishly super happy i didn't have to switch, because i loved writing this and i also loved getting to discover your wonderful art! my only regret is that i couldn't write you asks in gossip girl speak the entire time.

thank you @temperedink for the generous beta read and thank you @acotargiftexchange for dealing with my mistake... i'm told at least once a year someone spoils the surprise and i am not that shocked that i did it my first time. just too excitable i guess!

have a wonderful holiday season, and i really hope you like this! i tried to take your Outlander hot springs suggestion and go somewhere new on the Continent (that is, ahem, quite obviously a lakeside town in japan i once visited in my early 20s). there will be three chapters total, sprinkled somewhat evenly over the next few days of the event!

LOVE U BESTIE!

xoxo,

itsy <3

(read it on AO3!)

preview under the cut:

ELAIN

She was slightly anxious the whole carriage ride as town streets turned to farms and fields and then to hills and valleys. There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain had thought several times that they should really call the whole thing off. Nesta was just a few months pregnant and horribly sick in the mornings, sometimes only able to keep down the soothing bone broths Elain made her from scratch; Nyx was going through his first few challenges with his schooling and consequently driving court tutors to madness; Feyre and Rhys had their hands full and heads spinning with a squabbling pack of High Lords and uneasy, bickering detente with the human queens. 

Elain had been soothing and tending and chipping in and charming her ass off anyone that needed it. “I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to leave now ,” she’d said to her mate, though it pained her to rain on his parade. 

Lucien was still splitting his time between Day and the apartment they were renting in Velaris, though Elain knew the constant winnowing didn’t always help with the question of what, exactly, to do about his inheritance: the title of Day Court Prince, Helion’s pride and joy, the golden boy he would have been, had he been allowed to grow up by his father’s side. The High Lord of Day seemed to have an endless fount of ideas on what Lucien should learn about in Day’s libraries, or why it was very important for him to accompany Helion to a trade meeting, or any number of other reasons to invite the current emissary of Night to stay another day, week, month. 

Elain knew there was no reason Lucien needed to keep going on Rhys’s nosy little reconnaissance missions or put up with the polite friendlessness that faced him in Velaris - just as she knew her mate still could not take the final step into the place Helion offered to him, the path that seemed to be open after so many decades thinking he deserved so little. It was Lucien who perhaps needed to spend more time communicating with his relatives and trusted friends this Solstice, and of course it was Lucien most convinced they should leave, Cauldron boil them all, because they wanted to and because they could. 

“It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her before they left. “Which is why you have to take them.” 

“That’s not an answer,” Elain said loftily. “I think it’s you trying to avoid a Solstice visit with Helion.” 

“Forget Helion,” her mate said. “It’s me trying to whisk my gorgeous mate away for some actual peace and quiet.” 

And in the end, she’d agreed with him, in her heart of hearts so craving a day or two to just themselves. Lucien spared no expense or comfort, ever gallant and also very dramatic about his holiday plans; he worked with court engineers to spell their carriage against the winter cold so that he and Elain could enjoy a cozy, comfortable ride to their destination, laden with trunks of likely unnecessary furs and blankets and books and tea. He knew Elain still preferred real-time travel to winnowing, and he also knew it was a simple pleasure for her to not have to pack light. Across from her in the carriage, he sat with one hand stroking her own, eyes bright as he peered out the window. 

“Tell me again,” Elain said softly, “what this place is like.” 

“I don’t want to build your hopes too high,” Lucien said gaily, clearly proud of what he’d planned anyway. “After all, it was a suggestion from Eris, of all people.” It was his brooding, severe half-brother who’d told Lucien about the town and the inn, the mountain and the springs before it, about a day’s ride Northeast into the Continent. Only the Mother knew how, exactly, Eris had acquired this information, but Eris had heard about Elain’s dreamy musings on travel, exploring beautiful places and getting to know new people. Lucien expected it was ultimately fondness for Elain and not himself that had so inspired this exclusive recommendation. 

“That’s why I know it’ll be just perfect,” Elain countered. “Any place on the Continent notable enough for Eris Vanserra must be pretty breathtaking.” 

“It’s only a town,” Lucien said, grinning. “A town he happened to know, by a mountain, populated by quiet mountain people he probably terrified.” 

Elain curled closer to him and sighed. “Quiet people, how lovely,” she said. “What if I never want to return?” 

Lucien dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure I could handle your correspondence, be your emissary.” 

“No, I’ll make sure you’re enchanted into following my every step,” his mate replied. “So you can never leave my side.” 

He turned and let himself take a deep whiff of her hair and pearled, soft skin. “No enchantment needed, mate.”

[gingerteawrites]

BY THE HEARTH: SWAY

A/N: Hello hello again. I know, it's been slightly more than a week🏃🏾‍♂️. BUUUUUT, I'm really proud of this chapter and am excited to share it with you. Thank you all for being so patient with me, and please let me know how you liked this installment of BTH! Read previous chapter here.

Content:Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~2.6K

Banner by @cafekitsune

ACT VI

The king’s arm wraps around your waist and his other hand finds yours, guiding you into a formal dance position at the center of the dance floor. The rigidness of your postures remind you of your first dance teacher, a cynical old man who thought of dance as but a formality. Something that must be executed down to the last instructed detail.

The musicians drew out a slow tune, cueing you into the beginning of the dance. You take slow, deliberate steps, flowing alongside the melody, executed to perfection. Left and right, clear and bright.

Despite your best efforts to only think about your steps, the proximity with this strange man was a difficult thing to get used to. He seemed so consuming. You found your senses filled with the earthy scent of his cologne. The shadow of his frame towered over you. You willed your mind to stay on the task. Left and right, clear and bright.

But you couldn’t help your thoughts wandering back to the last time you were this close with him. The thundering storm, the weeping stained class. The stiff hold. The kiss.

This was not the time to reminisce. You chastised yourself with a soft sigh.

Now desperate for a distraction, you looked over his shoulder, discreetly scanning the crowd. The attendees seemed to move in slow motion around you, chatting about, eating and drinking. But you did not miss the way their eyes fleeted over you, pretending not to watch. All but one engaged in this game of hide-and-seek: Yuuji, who observed your tango intently, bringing a smile to your face.

The king cleared his throat. Your distraction was caught.

“It is impolite to look away from your dance partner.” He comments, tone surprising you with its lack of accusation.

“I apologize, your majesty.” Your eyes return to the amber of his, striking in their depth. They gave the impression that he could see through you, making you simultaneously want to hide and bare yourself. The latter urge won. “You can be quite intimidating, that is all.” You added.

The tempo of the music changed, and you each crossed your arms over the others’, spinning gracefully so your back was to his chest, maintaining the rhythmic steps in his hold.

“I do apologize.” He spoke quietly, his warm breath against your neck causing an unintentional shiver to run down your spine. “Scaring you is not my intention.” He spun your around, returning to your steps face to face.

Your heart thrummed with foreign excitement. This man, whom you had spent the last few weeks pondering about only made your curiosity bloom more. Was he truly being honest? Was he not malicious in regard to you? Could you trust his words? This was perhaps your opportunities to find answers.

“I cannot help but wonder what your intention is in having me here” You ask, eyes boring into his, hands resting high on his shoulders. He twirls you around, catching you by the waist to bring you back close to him. You could feel the velvet of the cape draped across him caress your bare shoulders.

“Did you not want to attend the ball?” his voice is low, for your ears only to hear.

“Having me in this kingdom, not the ball.” You correct, mirroring his tone.

You can see him hesitate for a second. As if contemplating whether to be honest with you or not, and the flash of doubt you see behind his deep eyes makes you itch uncomfortably.

“Well, why does one marry?” His answer is a non-answer. You suddenly grow frustrated, pressing closer. Maybe with you right in his face, he would need to be honest. You were thirsty for answers. For any information.

“For a plethora of reasons my king.” Your tone hardened, emotions swelling with the music “I only wish to know which one is responsible for this arrangement.”

He looks at you with a raised brow, and you cannot tell if it is in curiosity or annoyance. Regardless, you refuse to back down. Some part of your brain registers the music swelling higher, strings spinning faster, and while your bodies match the tempo, all your attention is on the man facing you.

“I know this marriage was advantageous for my kingdom, that is a given. But what are YOU in it for?” You drape a hand around his neck, drawing closer to his ear to ask the question.

The music pulls you away, both of your spinning and bowing, before returning to your embrace, stepping in circular motions around the floor.

He draws closer to you so the side of his face almost rests against yours, his words grazing the shell of your ear. “Frankly, I ask myself the same question.” The king pulled away so his eyes found yours again, and the honesty they held did nothing to diffuse your confusion.

You wanted to ask more. To unveil what hid behind the hard shell that this man seemed to have surrounding him. But you had a feeling your king was not willing to divulge any more at this moment. It would be useless to press on.

So you kept swaying to the increasingly fast melody, letting Nanami’s hands guide you along with him, the rigid rules of dance forgotten, fingers tracing the outline of each other’s bodies, breathing in each other's scent. You lost yourself in this trance, forgetting all thoughts and anxieties, even if for just a moment. He spun you around, and the strings stopped their cry when you landed in a dip, chest heaving, heart racing after your breath.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you register your surroundings: the sounds of claps, oos and aas from all around reach your ears. Nanami helps you up and steps away, offering an arm with a slight bow. You notice the way his own chest heaves slightly, and how his eyes don’t leave yours. You wrap your hand around the outstretched arm, and walk away from the center of the floor, back into reality.

The orchestra resumes its play, starting the melody of a festive tune. Couples fill the empty floor, their intricate garments painting the room in shades of vermillion, opulent blues and purples as they spin about.

You have no time to fully recover or untangle yourself from Nanami before a slew of people walk up to you, seeking introductions and a word with new royalty. You straighten your back, donning a polite, practiced smile when the first person approaches.

“Your majesties.” A noble decorated with too much jewelry bowed in greeting, a crooked smile pulling at his face “What a pleasure to finally see you out. We were starting to wonder why his highness had locked you away, but witnessing your beauty, we have no need to wonder anymore” He laughed at his own observation.

You chuckled, forced, awkward.

“Marquess Kamo.” Nanami greeted curtly, pulling his arm towards himself, drawing you close with the motion. A distinct sign of protectiveness. The old man’s grin faltered a bit, but he covered it with a gruff laugh, excusing himself with wishes of a nice evening.

“I look forward to seeing BOTH of you again.” He stepped away.

You looked up at the king once the marquess was out of earshot. “I take it we are not on very good terms with them?” You could swear you saw a hint of a smile play at his lips.

“He’s a cunning man. It’s better to be careful of his words.” He replied, turning towards the next group of people.

It felt like hundreds of people had come up to you to introduce themselves and offer some sorts of compliment. After some time, all of their words started merging together in your brain, and you were unsure you could distinguish between their names if you saw them again. Having been out in society since your coming of age, you thought you were prepared for formal events. But your home’s aristocracy was composed of a dozen families at most. You were positively overwhelmed.

Exhaustion tugged your body down, but the king by your side still stood straight, engaging in whatever form of small talk people approached you with. You rolled your shoulders slightly, feeling the duty to match his stature at least for this evening. Appearing weak next to a man like him felt wrong.

“It seems my wife has not had anything to eat yet. If you would excuse us.” The words reach your ears just as you call your attention back to the Countess before you, catching you off-guard.

The lady laughs, as if Nanami was the most amusing man on earth, waving her fan to shoo the both of you away. “Oh, of course your highness. As always, it was a pleasure.”

He begins to walk away with you in tow, and you look up at him in question, “I never said I was hungry.”

“I know you did not.” He beckons someone over before his gaze returns to you. “I just meant to give you a break.”

The next thing you heard was soft clanging noises, and a knight appeared before you, his ceremonial silver armor laying heavy on his shoulders. It commanded gravity, staunchly contrasted by the warmth of his grin. He exuded an almost boy-ish charm, at complete odds Nanami’s smooth allure.

The man bowed deeply, hand over his chest. “Your highness, I am royal knight Yu Haibara, at your service.”

You bowed your head in greeting, his smile causing you smile as well.

“If I may, you look absolutely radiant, your highness,” He complimented.

“Thank you, sir.” You replied politely.

Nanami clears his throat once again, calling your attention back to him. His expression, which had seemed to warm throughout the night had returned to its stoic disposition, his eyes focused on the knight.

“Haibara please find Alma and make sure her highness has some time to cool off.” You could swear he wanted to say more with the way his eyes lingered on you. But no more words were uttered.

Haibara looked at the king with a mischievous glint, before turning to offer his arm and guide you away. Despite the easy air that the knight carried around him, you noticed how alert he was, his eyes discreetly hovering around the room while he made small talk. You find Alma tucked into a corner of the room, as always, doling out instructions to the staff, and Yu relays Nanami's words to her.

She welcomes you with a smile, and takes you to the part of the huge ballroom with sofas and coffee tables set out where some ladies were already sat, enjoying hors-d’oeuvres and light drinks.

They all stand to bow when you arrive, and you greet them politely. With a social battery is already dwindling, you fail to notice the hostile looks coming from some, and wear your usual smile as you sit down. Alma hands you a flute of bubbly champagne along with some finger food, which you accept gratefully.

“Your dress is magnificent, your majesty. Pray tell, how much did it cost?” A lady, who introduced herself as just Mei inquires. Her talk of lavishness and riches are enough to fluster anyone, but another lady, countess Shoko tries to divert her attention, seeming to notice your fatigue. You smile gratefully at her.

Two glasses of champagne in, you feel the burning gaze of someone at the back of your head, and turn to see the king staring right at you. Your grow flustered, worried you did something wrong.

Am I drink too much? Does he not want me to talk to them? You’re too busy mentally going over the list of possible wrongdoings, while the ladies giggle around you, making you turn back to them.

“The king is usually so cold and uninterested.” One flaps her fan open, hiding her smile behind it. “I was convinced he could not be swayed by a woman anymore.”

The words leave you speechless, certain that the women have had the wrong idea. This man was indifferent to you, at best. Not even your exhilarating dance you shared would change that.

“Well they are married after all, so is it surprising?” Mei Mei adds, sipping the dark liquid in her glass.

“It’s not like it’s his first time married anyway.” Someone else rolls her eyes as she comments, and Shoko steps on her toes, causing her to yelp.

“So, your majesty, tell us about your kingdom. I have never had the chance to visit.” She turns to you with a slight smile.

You are conscious of her attempt at a distraction, but you indulge her, feeling nostalgic. You share with them the beauty of your homeland, the weather, the warmth. You mention your entourage; your siblings and friends. And in return, they share pieces of the workings of this kingdom. The major families and the power structure. You recognize the name Kamo, the man who introduced himself earlier, and recall a rigid man who carried the name Zenin who gave a curt introduction. Most of the ladies start fanning themselves when they talk about the Gojo family, emphasizing that their new duke was truly something to behold.

You are grateful for the conversation. You had not fully realized how much the isolation of the castle had made you miss such company. However, you could not shake the thought of the previous queen. Nanami's wife, Yuuji's mother.

How had the king had been with her? you wondered.

You are not surprised though, that no one brings her up again in the conversation.

Eventually, growing restless from sitting and some of the ladies with their shrill laughs, you excuse yourself.

“Are you feeling okay your majesty?” Alma approaches you quietly. “We can retire to your quarters if you want to.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head. “I have barely had time to talk to Yuuji. I’ll find you when I am ready to head back.” You countered. You dreaded the solitude of your quarters, and a part of you wanted to extend your time at the ball as long as you could.

Your eyes find the young prince standing alongside the knight from earlier. The urge to be in the child’s company fills you and you take a wide step towards him, eager to be near. Maybe it was the slight alcohol in your veins, or maybe it was the mental fatigue you kept pushing away, but you step on the edge of your dress and lose your balance, tumbling forward.

Great! way to embarrass myself in front of everyone. You close your eyes, bracing for the fall. And for the eventual ridicule. Of how the ladies you were talking with would probably laugh and gossip about this for weeks to come. You were exhausted.

A pair of hands slip around your waist, halting your fall and bringing you against a firm chest. You recognize the smell of sandalwood, and the softness of velvet before your eyes reopen to focus on the king's face.

“Careful,” he says, his brows slightly furrowed.

“I apologize.” You replied, now steady on your feet. But his hold on you does not falter, supporting your body.

Yuuji comes up to you running, and the king's hand slips away, giving you space to speak with the boy. Your body misses the warmth where he held you.

“Are you okay?” the child asks, touching your hand and looking up at you with the most adorable, shiny eyes that reflect a hint of worry. You coo, holding his hand and rubbing a thumb over it.

“Sorry that I worried you. I think I might be a bit tired.” You whisper the last part, as if sharing a secret. A smile returns to his face.

“That’s okay!” He reassures. “Papa said it’s almost my bedtime too.” He shared, hoping to relate to you.

“It is. I’ll say my good byes to a few people and then we’ll head back.” Nanami drew close to Yuuji, looking down at him as he spoke the words.

“Can she come with us?” The child requests immediately. He sees his father’s brow furrow and lets go of your hand, now clinging to him “Pleaseeeeee?” he makes the biggest puppy eyes, and you see the king’s resolve falter. He looks to you, and you shrug lightly with a smile, causing him to sigh. He stays silent for a few moments, trying so hard to reject the child.

“Okay.” he finally resigns, and Yuuji almost launches himself off the ground in joy. “Yes!”

And here we go once again. I promise things pick up steam from here one! Please let me know what you think :)

Tag list:@ofcqdesi @tomiokasecretlover @luvstama @amisuh @abhootghiihii

@cosmicbreathe @lucreied @starmapz @tylersaiddonteatbananas @taeteddybear

@bopsigles @flaneur002 @evans-dejong @lazypostfandomer

[notthesoup]

PAIRING stoner!vi x fem!reader

TYPE headcanons

GENRE fluff, angst (minor hurt/comfort)

SYNOPSIS what she’s like when she’s high

NOTES was debating if this should be headcanons or a oneshot, ended up with this. not beta read!

© notthesoup - all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

She doesn’t mind the smell of cigars (it reminds her of Vander), but she prefers smoking cannabis. She doesn’t care too much about the specifics either (wouldn’t gaf about the strain type or the terpene profile), weed is weed and she’s smoking that shit fr 🙏

She typically only smokes socially, preferring to share a light high among friends.

She’s normally a brash, “act first think later” sort of person, but when she’s high she’s a tad more patient with things. This doesn’t account to much though, because even if she allows herself a few moments to think something through, she’ll still impulsively do it. “It’s a problem for future me,” she reasons. Unfortunately, the future is near, and she wakes up the next day with small random bruises she doesn’t remember getting.

When Vi is high she’s a lot goofier and carefree. Depending on how many hits she’s taken of the blunt, she’ll have trouble focussing her eyes during conversation. Because of this, she’ll squint at you when you’re talking, trying but failing to hold eye contact. She’ll be eagerly listening, then get distracted by the way your face is moving, and start giggling. You ask her what’s wrong, if there’s something on your face, and a memory of Mylo or Claggor hits her; she starts laughing her ass off. You let her indulge herself, content to sit and watch as she tries to explain, stuttering out sentences between wheezing. When that doesn’t work she tried collecting herself. After a minute or so her breathing evens out again, your expression still a blurry smile, and she says softly, “they would’ve liked you.” You know better than to ask in that moment, so with a chuckle, you nudge her shoulder with yours and nod.

Philosophers have nothinggg on Vi when she’s high. Sure, at the beginning of the smoke session she’s a chatterbox, but as the night progresses the conversation becomes more pensive (and slightly cynical). There can be a real sense of calm hopelessness, like standing in the eye of a hurricane and watching the storm swirl around you. Then the conversation would grow quiet for a minute, the two of you overlooking the buildings on the horizon.

Throughout the night, Vi will get sentimental like that sometimes. You find yourself wanting to comfort her during those times, but know she just needs someone to listen to her.

After realizing that neither of you had talked for what seems like an hour, she’d do something akin to what Vander would do, slapping her hands on her thighs and saying “what would you say about going for some drinks, eh?”

She’s more often than not lighthearted and boisterous though, the sadder moments few and far between. She likes making outlandish claims to get the conversation started, and waves her hands a lot in emphasis.

In moments of silence when she’s stuck on what to say, she always brings it back to zucchini and how she thinks they’re evil. Don’t worry, you don’t even have to ask, she’s already launching into her reasoning.

ARCANE MASTERLIST !

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting! thank you if you do 🤍

[dljcem]

ೃ༄ Apple Cider

johnny cade x gn!reader

warnings: not beta or proof read, brief mentions of smoking/injury, prompt credits to @/lovemeagoodprompt

5 times johnny wanted to tell you he loves you + 1 time he finally did !

i.

Johnny couldn’t quite tell what you were talking about anymore. Somewhere in the conversation, he’d lost track of your commentary—who was running away, who was in jail, who was going with who, who stole what and where and why…

He was about to nod, feign (or try to, at least) some form of understanding, when you suddenly stopped.

“What?” he queries, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Do I have something on my face?”

Without saying a word, you lean in, skimming the edge of his jacket collar before folding it down. A deep flush covers his features—he can only watch in stunned silence as you regain your earlier position, almost like nothing had ever happened.

“There!” you smile brightly at him; he swears his heart stops. He’s about to say something, but you promptly cut him off, resuming whatever story you’d been sharing before.

ii.

Johnny rummages through his pockets for what feels like the tenth time—still, the familiar weight of his lighter is nowhere to be found. A smile plays on your lips upon seeing his predicament; he doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in frustration.

You retrieve your own lighter, tucked safely into the back of your jeans, and place it in his palm. That gets his attention.

“Keep it.”

He does so with hesitance, lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Albeit a relatively small gesture, it has his head spinning—only you could make him swoon with something as insignificant.

“Thanks, Y/N.” he mumbles, averting his gaze before you can sense there’s something amiss. He drowns out the words threatening to spill from his mouth with smoke.

iii.

Johnny doesn’t like parties. Not the alcohol, or the music, or the outright concerning amounts of people. He does like you, though—perhaps that’s why he’s sitting on some flimsy couch instead of walking home.

His arm is going numb under the weight of your head, yet he doesn’t move a muscle. He briefly wonders how you sleep amidst such chaos; soundly, by the looks of it.

You stir with a small noise, further burying your face in his shoulder. He knows then he’ll be there all night. He can’t bring himself to disrupt your rest when you’re oh so peaceful.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

The rest goes unsaid.

iv.

Johnny lets you brush his hair back, doesn’t flinch as you press an antiseptic-doused cotton ball to the cut on his temple. The only sign of discomfort is the subtle creasing of his brows—somehow, you still catch on.

“You alright?”

He nods, straining a quick response to appease your concerns. He instinctively reaches up, traces the jagged outline of the wound. He knows for a fact it’ll leave a scar; an ugly one, at that.

“It’s not all bad,” you shrug, reading his mind once again, “makes you look tough.”

He looks away and tries to convince himself you mean nothing by it.

v.

Johnny rests his back on the grass, damp from the morning rain. You’re laying only a few inches away, hair splayed in different directions. He watches as you search for patterns in the stars—amidst your concentration, you don’t notice his gaze.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a closer look, smile because you’ve finally found what you were looking for (or, rather, something close to it.)

“…yeah.”

He glances at the dark sky; finds that its not nearly as pretty as you.

vi.

Johnny looks at the horizon, where the setting sun casts various shades of orange. The porch steps are rough against his knees, old and worn from years of use—still, he is calm. You seem to share the sentiment, much quieter than you normally are.

“Hey, Y/N?” his question is but a whisper; you hum in acknowledgment.

“I think I love you.”

Before he can regret it, you’re leaning your head on his shoulder. And, for once, you meet his eyes.

“I love you too, Johnny.”

[shipmistress9]

Blueberries & Chocolate Chips

Fandom: The Empyrean (Fourth Wing)

Pairing: Riorgail (Vioelt/Xaden)

Rating: Mature

Tags: Modern AU, unplanned pregnancy, talk of infertility, talk of abortion, plot with porn

Summary: Violet hadn't felt like partying after just dumping her ex for cheating on her. But maybe Rhiannon had been right. Maybe going out to celebrate Liam's birthday hadn't been such a bad idea. After all, if she'd stayed home that night…none of this would have happened.

AN: Weird how a tiny random thought can take over your entire brain in less than an hour. 😆 This is not a trope I ever thought I'd write...yet here we are. Buckle up and enjoy the ride. 🥰

Also, big thanks to @theoppositequeens for betaing this story and chearing me on so wonderfully. 🥰

. o O o .

"Vi? Why aren't you getting ready?" Rhiannon frowned as she poked her head into Violet's bedroom. "What are you waiting for?"

Violet lifted her head from the book she'd been reading, cuddled up in a warm blanket and her comfy pyjamas already. "Getting ready? For what?" Honestly, whatever it was, she wasn't going. She'd had more than enough 'entertainment' over the last two weeks and was happy to just spend this night here in her bed. Or maybe even the days after, too. Fuck everyone else.

Rhiannon stepped fully into her room, her hands on her hips. "Liam's birthday party? You told him you'd be there, remember?"

With a groan, Violet let her head drop back against the headboard. "Shit…that's today?" If there was one person she didn't want to let down then it was ever-happy, ever-encouraging, ever-supportive Liam. But still, just the idea of getting out of this bed and putting on sensible clothes seemed like too much effort, let alone joining her friend at some club.

Sighing, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going. Can you excuse me? I'm really not feeling like partying."

Rhiannon pressed her lips into a thin line and regarded her with a long look. Then she shook her head, too. "Nope, I'm not doing that," she announced, coming closer with purposeful strides. "Because you are going to come with us. You had your time moping around after that asshole cheated on you, but now it's time to keep living."

"Rhi…" Violet pleaded, but she just shook her head again.

"None of that, Vi. What you need now is a distraction, some fun. Even if only to rub it in his face that you're better off without him. Because you are! I'd suggest getting laid by some hot stranger, but I know that's not really your thing. So what's better than a night out with your friends? You can drink as many cocktails as you like, I'll watch out for you, and we'll dance the entire night away, if you want. But you are coming with us."

Violet wrinkled her nose. But she knew Rhiannon well enough after their years of friendship, knew that, when she used this tone, then there was no arguing with her.

. o O o .

Okay, maybe coming here hadn't been such a bad idea, after all. Even after only five minutes at the club Liam had picked, Violet already felt more alive than she had in…a very long time. Even since before she’d found Halden in bed with another woman and he'd tried to explain away what he'd done instead of apologising, if she was being honest.

Maybe it was the beat of the music that made her forget about her gloomy thoughts, or maybe it was laughing with her friends, the true joy she'd seen on Ridoc's, Sawyer's, and most of all Liam's face as she joined them at their table. Maybe it was the vibrant life all around her, people dancing and laughing, that reminded her of how good things could be.

Yep, she truly had to thank Rhiannon for making her come.

"You'll have to excuse me for a moment," Liam shouted over the loud music, squeezing her shoulder where he'd had his arm around her until now. "As much as I love you all, my other guests just arrived and I at least have to greet them." He gave Violet and the rest of them a wink then disappeared into the crowd, and Ridoc instantly turned his head to gaze at where he was heading.

Rhiannon and Violet shared a knowing smirk across their drinks. While Liam, who'd only recently joined their team, had become a solid member of their 'squad' at work, he of course also had other friends. And even though this was the first time their two groups truly met, they'd already met one person of that other group before. Bodhi, a guy with black curly hair, warm tawny skin, and an easy smile, had come over to pick Liam up for some group activities once or twice, and even though those meetings had been barely enough to exchange more than a dozen words, Ridoc was already entirely smitten.

"He's my soulmate," he kept exclaiming whenever one of them teased him about his cute infatuation. "I just know it, okay?" Which only made them grin wider, of course.

"So, are you going to make a move tonight?" Sawyer inquired with a grin.

Ridoc huffed a laugh. "Is grass green? Of course, I will. That man is just waiting for me to pick him up, whether he already knows it or not."

"Oh, I think he knows," came Liam's voice from behind them again, his eyes gleaming with glee.

Behind him, Bodhi appeared with a bit of a blush around his ears, and he headed directly for Ridoc, not needing any introductions, after all. Yeah, it seemed like they wouldn't be seeing much of those two tonight anymore.

As they moved away to talk, some new people took their places around the table, and Violet could do little but gawk as Liam introduced them all to each other. There was a woman named Imogen whose pink hair stood out even in a club like this. A guy named Garrick had his arm around her shoulders and greeted them all with an open grin that made Violet instantly like him. And then, there was him.

Xaden.

He looked so much like Bodhi that they had to be related. Brothers, maybe? At least cousins. He had the same dark curls and tawny skin, the same muscular build and handsome features. But where Bodhi seemed open and approachable, Xaden was cool and aloof. He also was a bit taller and broader, his features all around a bit harder, sharper, his eyes so dark they seemed nearly black in this light.

And he was absolutely gorgeous.

Violet couldn't pin down what it was, just something about the way he moved, how his eyes took them all in, the timbre of his voice. Sometimes, Violet thought to herself, sometimes, life is good. Yep, letting Rhi drag her out of her gloom for this was definitely the right decision.

. o O o .

"May I join you here?"

Violet looked up from where she sat alone at their table, even though she knew in an instant who it was. Only twenty minutes had passed since Liam's friends had arrived and he'd only spoken a few words since then, and yet Xaden's voice had already burned itself into her memory. "Uh, sure!" She grabbed Rhi's and her purses to put them on her other side, making room for him to sit.

He slid into the free space with a grace that made her instantly jealous, but momentarily forgot that thought again when his broad arm came to rest next to her own. Fuck, he was massive. And why did that make heat curl in her lower belly? She really needed to get a grip.

"You're not dancing?" he asked, nodding to where the rest of their combined group was moving on the dance floor. Minus Ridoc and Bodhi, of course, who were nowhere to be seen anymore.

Violet snorted and shook her head. "I have pretty stupid joints, they don't like staying where they're supposed to. Dancing is generally not a good idea for me."

He huffed something of a laugh. "Fair enough."

"And you?" she threw back, glancing at where Rhi and Liam were throwing curious glances at them. "What's your excuse?" Because, clearly, he wasn't dancing, either.

His beautiful lips pulled into a half-smile that made her heart skip a beat or two. "I just didn't feel like it."

"Fair enough," she replied, drawing another devastating smile from his lips. Violet had to swallow at the way he looked at her, all hooded lids and heated eyes, and quickly took another sip from her drink to cover it up. Being this attractive and flirting with her? That had to be illegal.

Especially when he let out a low chuckle all of a sudden. At her questioning glance, he nodded at her drink. "I was just… What is this? It certainly earned the name cocktail, that's for sure. That has to be the most colourful drink on their entire menu."

Violet eyed her glass— and couldn't help but giggle as well. "Well, it is called a rainbow cocktail. Mocktail. So it should be colourful, don't you think?" It didn't help that the bartender had apparently felt the need to add not one, not two, but three pieces of colourful decoration, including a rainbow-coloured feather. It really looked a bit ridiculous.

For comparison, she glanced at his drink, probably coke with some rum or whisky, and had to suppress another chuckle. All black, that seemed to be his thing as it matched his clothes, tight-fitting denims and a short-sleeved shirt of the same colour.

Xaden hummed. "No alcohol?"

Violet shrugged. "No, just juice and soda for me. I had one cocktail earlier, but I'd rather not get too drunk today." Which was a change of plan she'd decided on about two minutes after Liam's friends had arrived, but she refused to think too deeply about why she wanted to stay more sober all of a sudden.

"Same as me, then." He held up his glass, his lips twitching into a smirk at her surprised look. "Just coke. I don't drink and drive."

Damn, attractive, interested, and responsible? Where had this guy been when she'd met Halden? He could have saved her from a lot of trouble.

"So, how do you know Liam?" she asked, just to cover up how his eyes alone were ruining the panties she was wearing beneath her skirt. Maybe she'd had too much alcohol after all, if only this short exchange was already enough for her to be nearly drenched.

Xaden huffed a small laugh. "We're brothers." When she whipped her head around to stare at him, dumbfounded, he put on that devastating smirk again. "We were fostered together," he explains more softly. Okay, that made more sense. "And you're working with him?"

Violet blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, he and I share an office. Rhi, Sawyer, and Ridoc are in the one next to ours. We started out all getting lunch together, and now…" She shrugged. The friendship between the five of them was something special to her, not easy to put into words. They always had each other's back.

"I see," Xaden mused. "So…are you the one with the asshole of an ex?"

Violet nearly choked on her drink. "Liam gossiped about that?" That didn't seem right, not like Liam at all.

But Xaden shook his head. "Not directly. He was just…very agitated when he learned about it, stomping up and down our living room and cursing. I didn't get any details, just that he felt like hunting down someone's boyfriend and punching him in the face— which is pretty unusual for Liam, he's not a violent guy. And then he was all smug one day, told me one of his colleagues finally ditched their partner. So I was just putting things together here."

Violet huffed a humourless laugh, filing away the comment about their living room for another time. "Yeah, that was all about me. He cheated on me and, eventually, I dumped him. I deserve better than such an irresponsible and unreliable idiot."

Xaden murmured something that again sounded like his words from before, same as me, then. But before she could be sure, he already went on. "Agreed," he murmured. "You certainly do." His eyes were even more intent on her now, making her squirm in her seat. By Amari, if he didn't stop looking at her like that, she'd have to excuse herself to the bathroom and try to contain her mess with toilet paper or something. "So, did you only come here for Liam's sake?” he asked, shifting in his seat. “Or are you looking for a rebound fling?"

Violet sucked in a breath, her eyes meeting his. Was he…offering?

Thoughts crossed her mind at lightning speed, pros and cons warring until one thought stood out to her. He was Liam's friend. So he had to be trustworthy.

Her expression shifted into a sly smile, her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she let her gaze wander over his body, the muscles beneath smooth inked skin, until she met his eyes again. "Maybe?" she replied, her tone more seductive than she knew she was capable of.

Xaden's eyes flared with sudden undiluted interest. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze wandered through the room, searching until they found the corridor that led to the bathrooms. Looking back at her, he cocked his head, nodding in that direction, the question clear in his eyes.

Violet hesitated for less than a second. Was she really going to fuck a stranger in the club's bathroom? She gave him a nod.

Apparently, she was.

. o O o .

Violet gasped as her back hit the wall of the tight broom closet. Or was it the door? It was too dark in here to see much. They hadn't even made it to the bathrooms, Xaden pulling her through the hidden door, and his mouth had been on hers before the door was even closed again.

His kiss was rough and urgent, like he was starving and she was the first meal he had in days. His hands were all over her, pinning her between the door and his body, his tongue gliding against her lips, begging for entrance. She granted it happily, wrapping one leg around him as best she could. She just needed him closer. The motion made her skirt ride up all the way to her waist and brought her soaked panties right to his crotch, but she didn't care. How could she when the most gorgeous man she'd ever met was kissing her within an inch of her life?

"Fuck, Vi," he groaned as his fingers found the wetness between her things. "I need…" He grunted and shook his head as if to clear it. "How quiet can you be?"

Oh, Gods, this was really happening.

"Pretty quiet if I have to be," she shot back, grinning as she let her hand run down his front to where she could feel him hard beneath his denims.

Xaden all but growled. "Excellent."

Instead of fumbling with his button and zipper, however, he unwrapped her leg from his waist before he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands beneath her skirt before she could wrap her head around the sudden change. "W-what…?" she sputtered as he slid her panties down her legs.

"I want to taste you," he groaned against her inner thigh where he'd lifted her left leg back up again to place it over his shoulder. "Fuck, you smell so good."

He wasted no time, his tongue flicking out against her slick folds. Violet couldn’t contain her surprise, a breathy cry slipping off her lips, and she instantly clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes blown wide. Gods, what was happening?

Xaden's eyes— they really were black, weren't they?— flickered up to meet hers. "Everything okay?" he rasped against her sensitive skin, and Violet's leg threatened to give with how it trembled.

Not daring to take her hand away from her mouth, Violet nodded, mewling at the way his eyes flashed with a devious smirk, how it made her all but melt into his hold on her.

And then he really started to put his mouth to work on her, and all Violet could do was at least try and keep her gasps and cries muffled. Her free hand scrambled for his hair just for anything to hold on to as he pushed her higher and higher, his tongue licking at her wetness, his lips closing around her clit to suck. It was maddening, a roller-coaster of sensations. The way he groaned into her heated flesh when she tore at his hair, how his hands tightened against her thighs to hold her in place.

"Xaden!" she gasped as she felt her orgasm building— so quickly, she couldn't believe it was really happening— her other hand flying into his hair as well. To keep him there or to push him away for a reprieve, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that she would die if he didn't—

Her breath came in short little gasps as the wave was building, and the coil drew tight in her stomach. And when she came— flung over the edge violently like barely ever before— it was all she could do to bite down on her lower lip, hard, to keep the screams building inside her as low keening, as Xaden completely wrecked her with his mouth.

"Fuck, that was hot," he grunted as her senses returned to her. He was standing again, so close that she felt him against her entire front, felt all the hard muscles beneath his skin, yet the moment was also oddly soft in how he bent to rest his forehead against hers.

Violet gasped a breathy laugh, her head still swimming in the afterglow. "That…that was… Just, wow." From the corner of her eye, she saw him grin. "Do you want me to return the favour?"

Xaden groaned, a tangible shudder running through his body, and his cock notably strained at her words. But he shook his head. "I don't think I could even try to be quiet right now," he grunted, his hand twitching where he'd grabbed her shoulder.

Violet sucked in a breath, the entire situation making her head spin. Fucking a stranger at a club's bathroom was wild to her— but not uncommon, all in all. But having one go down on her, giving her such an amazing orgasm, and then not insisting on her returning it? Fuck, this guy was too good to be real.

"Then how about we go to my place instead?" she heard herself suggest, and didn't regret it one bit. This night was not going how she'd imagined it, but that was okay. Because it was better, and she wasn't yet ready to let it end here.

Another groan rumbled through him. "Are you sure?" he grunted. "You don't have to—"

"I am sure," she interrupted him. "This was great, but I want you to fuck me, Xaden. And I don't think I could be quiet about it here, either."

He gasped a low laugh and shook his head. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

. o O o .

Chat history with RhiBee

Hey, would you mind spending the night at Tara's? 😇

Oh, my Gods! Violet Sorrengail, are you telling me you're bringing 'company'? 😏

Is it Riorson?

Who's Riorson?

Hahaha, haven't laughed that much in a while. 😑

That guy you were eye-fucking about half an hour ago? Bodhi's cousin?

Oh, you mean Xaden.

Uh, yeah, it's him.

Ha! I knew it! Sawyer owes me a 5er. 😁

Sure, I'll go to Tara when you feel well enough again.

See you tomorrow. And have fun. 😏 That guy looked like he knows what he's doing.

Violet fought hard to keep her lips neutral, but ultimately failed. Oh, Rhi had no idea. But after that first taste she got in that broom closet? Yeah, Xaden clearly knew what he was doing.

"What's so funny?"

She glanced up to where Xaden's eyes were safely glued to the road ahead. How had he…?

"Just my roommate, Rhiannon." She held up her phone as if that alone answered all questions. "She's going to spend the night at her girlfriend's. So we can be as loud as we want," she added in an entirely fake innocent tone.

Xaden’s hands tightened around the steering wheel and his next exhale came a little louder. "Nice to see how much trust you have in my driving skills that you dare say something like that without being worried I might get distracted."

Now, she gladly let that smirk spread across her face. She shifted in her seat to face him, aware of how her blouse hugged her curves. "What, am I distracting you?" she hummed, letting a finger glide down her cleavage as if by chance. Weirdly, she really did trust him. Implicitly.

The car came to an abrupt halt, startling Violet, but when she glanced ahead, they were standing at a red traffic light.

And when she looked back at him, his dark eyes were burning into hers. "I've been hard since the moment I laid eyes on you in that club. And that's after I swore to myself that I wouldn't—" He bit back whatever it was he'd sworn not to do. "So, yes, you are distracting me. And if you don't stop that—" He reached for her hand and gently pulled it away from her breast. "—then we're not going to make it to your flat because I'll be fucking you senseless on some dark parking lot, public indecency be damned."

Heat flushed through Violet, painting her cheeks pink, and she could only hope that she wasn't leaving some stains on his seat from how his words affected her. Her panties still lay somewhere in that dark closet, after all. But somehow, that 'threat' of what he might do didn't even sound so bad. Fuck, what was happening to her?

"Okay," she breathed, sitting straight again, and thankfully, the lights turned green again at that moment. The faster they made it home the better.

. o O o .

His lips were back on hers the moment the door to the flat fell closed behind them, and Violet knew that if he'd touched her any sooner, they indeed wouldn't have made it behind closed doors. Because when he kissed her, everything else around her instantly seemed to drop out of existence. The slide of his lips, the way his tongue ravaged her mouth, his hands all over her, it was everything.

"So, now for returning that favour," she gasped once they had to part for breath, throwing him a promising smile from beneath her lashes. Her hand slid down his front, and the groan rumbling in his chest along with how his cock strained in its confinements made a fresh wave of heat roll through her.

Xaden's eyes fell shut as she palmed him through his denims— apparently he was massive everywhere— and his hands grabbed at her shoulders, as if he needed to hold on to something, too. "Y-you don't have to do that," he grunted after a few moments, clearly fighting to keep a clear head. "I love eating out my partners, don't do it to make them reciprocate."

A hot wave of a different kind washed through Violet at that, appreciation and maybe something else. He really was too good to be true. But she didn't pull her hand away from him. "That's good to know," she breathed against his neck, standing on her toes. "And you're happily invited to go for a snack again at a later time. But right now, I want to suck you off." It wasn't even a lie, she was dying to get her mouth on him.

"Oh, fuck…" His hips pushed further into her touch, without his help as it seemed, and his head dropped back.

She flipped his button open and pulled the zipper down, then let her hand glide beneath the fabric, humming as her finger wrapped around his smooth length. She stroked him a couple of times— Gods, he felt fantastic— but then drew back and reached for his hand instead. "Come over here," she said, tugging him towards the sofa. He followed easily, then helped push his denims and boxers down and off before she manoeuvred him to sit down. Placing a cushion onto the floor beneath her knees, Violet made herself as comfortable as possible before returning her attention to his cock, standing hard and beautiful now, and her hand around it looked tiny.

"So, what is it you like?" she asked almost casually as she started to stroke him, slowly. "Do you want me to be thorough, to make you scream as I suck you dry? Or do you prefer hot, quick, and messy with how pent-up you already seem to be?"

Xaden's eyes flared with lust, precome beading at his tip. "Hot and quick sounds good," he grunted, hips flexing into her hand. "I'll be screaming either way."

Violet's breath hitched. "And should I suck you to completion or rather stop before?" She leaned in and dragged her tongue along his cock, humming. "I do want you to fuck me tonight, too, you know?"

At that, he let out a breathy laugh. "Don't worry about that. I don't think I could stay soft for long around you even if I tried."

And now she'd ruined the cushion, too. Fuck, why did he have such an effect on her?

They didn't talk anymore after that, nothing meaningful, at least. Violet took a minute or two to explore his cock and balls, his size, which spots seemed to be sensitive, to get accustomed to him. But then, she closed her lips around his tip, her eyes holding his captive, as she slowly pushed down.

Xaden's eyes grew wide as she kept on going until he bumped against the back of her throat, her tongue flickering along his underside. "Oh, shit," he growled, his fingers digging into the cushions.

Violet threw him something of a smirk, as best she could with his cock in her mouth— and then started to move. He'd wanted it hot and quick, so that was what she gave him, dragging her lips up and down his shaft, her cheeks hollowed. Xaden made good on his promise, moaning and shouting freely, and, fuck, was it hot to see and hear him enjoying her mouth so openly.

"Fuck, Vi!" he grunted as she pushed him even further down her throat and swallowed around him. "I'm…coming!"

She appreciated the warning but didn't pull back, only hummed in delight, and a moment later, hot come was shooting down her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as she swallowed it all down, at his primal shout echoing through the flat, at how her entire body grew tight in reflex.

When she eventually pulled back, Xaden was panting, his eyes on her blown wide. "By Malek's balls," he groaned, "That was…fuck! So hot."

Violet grinned as she pushed herself back up on her legs, rubbing her knees. "It was my pleasure."

Xaden huffed a laugh. He reached for her, and Violet didn't resist when he pulled her down on top of him, claiming her mouth in another heated kiss, nor when he guided her to lie on the sofa beneath him, his hand once again sliding beneath her skirt.

"Fuck, I forgot you aren’t wearing any underwear anymore," he cursed when he found her bare and dripping. "Did you really walk through the club like that?"

Violet gasped as his fingers found her clit, her eyes momentarily fluttering shut. "Obviously?"

Xaden laughed, low and deep, his body rumbling against her own where he touched her. "You'll be the death of me, I swear…"

Violet meant to give him some witty reply but instead moaned as one of his fingers dipped into her without resistance.

"So hot," he murmured, awed. "So wet, all for me."

Mewling, Violet gave in to his touch as he kept fingering her, too much of a mess to do anything but take it. He started slowly, pushing in and out with one finger, then two, then three. Before long, his movements sped up, his wrist stiff as he fucked his fingers into her, drawing one shout after the other from her with the way he had his fingers crooked just so, how he drove into her mercilessly.

Violet clung to him, her fingernails surely leaving marks where she was clutching at his right arm, his shoulder. But neither of them cared, not when he was pushing her into her second orgasm of the night, this time with her free to vocally release her pleasure as well, amplifying it.

"Has anyone ever told you how devastatingly beautiful you are when you come?" Xaden murmured into her ear as she was floating down, feeling like a puddle of bliss beneath him.

Chuckling, she shook her head, her lips gliding along his neck, his shoulder. "Don't get sappy on me now," she teased and placed a hand against his still covered chest. Gods, how was it possible they'd made each other come three times now but still wore nearly all of their clothes? They had to rectify that, soon.

"Who, me?" Xaden smirked, holding out his hand to help her up after pulling his boxers back up. As if he'd been able to read her mind and wanted to tease her. "Don't worry about that. I'm just warning you that I might make you come a few times more, just to watch."

Ducking her head, Violet turned away to hide her blush. And how was it possible for her body to react to that already when she'd just come on his fingers? "Maybe I wouldn't even mind?"

His answering grin could only be called devious and made her toes curl against the carpet.

. o O o .

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames, if we know the steps anyways?

by perseph0ne_13

“Sorry,” Caitlyn breathes out, door clicking shut behind her. Vi doesn’t open her eyes, just listens to the way Caitlyn advances towards the tub carefully, gently, almost as if she were afraid to spook her. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”

“No worries,” Vi replies, voice barely above a murmur, fingers digging in so hard against the porcelain it begins to hurt. “I only waited six months, no big deal, cupcake.”

Caitlyn sighs, sits by the side of the tub, “Vi–”

“Save it,” Vi looks up at her, eyes suddenly feeling– heavy. She knows, though, any attempt at sleeping will be futile; she’s been restless in the absence of her salve.“I don’t wanna talk about it, right now.”

---- or, it's after ep6, and Vi is in the kirammansion, Caitlyn wants to take care of her, and... well, they're as complicated as they always have been.

Words: 3398, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Maddie is there for a second, Post-Episode: s02e06 The Message Hidden Within the Pattern (Arcane: League of Legends), Arcane Season 2 Spoilers, they deserve happiness, i dont know exactly when this takes place, sometime after 2x06 though, caitlyn and vi have NOT reconciled yet, Vi is tired, Vi Needs a Hug (League of Legends), theyre getting to their reconciliation though, but at least theyre reunited, i just wanted them to have an excuse to be tender and soft, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, caitlyn takes care of Vi, because Vi deserves it, she washes her hair thank you, Caitlyn is RIDDEN WITH GUILT, as she should be, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, no beta we die like Viktor

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’