#vi enemies to lovers

[prickly-paprikash]

Can't believe Vander and Silco made sure to pass on their romantic inclinations to their daughters.

This family is foesexual. They oppsromantic. They've no interest in you if you ain't willing to beef with each other once or twice during the relationship.

Vi and Jinx's taste in partners is anyone who can square tf up against them. They learned from their papas.

[unoislazy]

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part Two)

(Childhood friends to lovers…)

Love will drive you crazy.

A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3

“And promise you’ll come back?”

If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi. 

For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to  would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.

She feared she’d never get back to you.

That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.

“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying. 

“Someone like you.” 

They were all the same.

But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you. 

So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.

It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return. 

For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone. 

“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her. 

“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair.  Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few. 

“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in. 

With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.

“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace. 

Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour. 

Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.

But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar. 

This wasn’t right. None of this was. 

Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened. 

And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.

Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her. 

You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet. 

You had to learn to survive.

And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.

But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence. 

Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business. 

Keep your head down and don’t ask questions. 

That’s how you got as far as you did. 

What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.

Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.

You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder. 

But when the need arose, you realized far too late.

The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh. 

It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.

But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-

“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,

“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you. 

“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn. 

As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Good going. 

You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.

“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby. 

Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue. 

“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted. 

Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?

“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing. 

You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders. 

“Got it.” You responded. 

“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.

Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved. 

You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit. 

“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.

Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.

You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that. 

It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.

“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.

Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.

But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long. 

She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly. 

You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die. 

Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.

“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you. 

“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago.  before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight. 

You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.

You weren’t going to lose her again.

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

Tag list

@bigbangxd24

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Crossing The Line

(Art Credits @penpapernaiad on X/Twitter- https://x.com/penpapernaiad/status/1866626496410103905)

Caitlyn Kiramman X Vi Lanes 18+

Summary: After an intense race, Violet confronts Caitlyn about the end controversy which leads to both women discovering something about their relationship and finding a mutual way to take their frustrations out.

Word Count: 4.6k | Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Realisations, Explicit Smut, F1 inspired Fic, Experienced Mercedes Racer Caitlyn/Rookie Red Bull Racer Vi, Top Vi/Bottom Caitlyn, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Brief Praise, Implied Switch but Dom Vi, Begging

A/N- This fic is inspired by the amazing F1 fanart of CaitVi on Twitter and I know absolutely nothing about F1 so apologies just in case some things are incorrect. Also, this is the first time I’ve written something that isn’t a Character X Reader so apologies if it’s a bit weird as I’m not used to not writing something that’s not second person.

---

The sound of engines warming up rumbled around the track, the drivers making their way over to their respective cars to prepare themselves for the race as the crowd cheered in excitement at what was about to happen, the past few races being some of the most competitive of the last few years as new drivers entered the scene, adding their own personal flare that livened up the sport.  

Caitlyn Kiramman, renowned champion and title holder stepped out into driver’s zone, her usual cold, composed and focussed manner on display for all to see as she strided over to where she was needed, her figure radiating dominance and authority as many paused to simply admire her professionalism. Heads turned nearly every time she walked past, the confidence in her form for everyone to admire as she stepped past the McLaren team, offering a polite nod to their technical director before continuing, her blue eyes drifting over to the next racing team, her gaze inevitably wandering to where a certain Red Bull racer was. 

To say things were tense between the world title holder and the new rookie on the block, Vi Lanes, would be a severe understatement, the two of them constantly clashing in every race as the latter’s reckless and rash driving manner was something Caitlyn was not fond of, finding the lack of consistency and accuracy to be a flaw rather than something to admire as she knew the rookies luck would have to come to an end soon. For the fans, this sudden and profound rivalry was something to rave about, the crowd already in anticipation as they saw on the screens the two drivers lock eyes from across the zone, a sudden tension filling the air as the composed, icy blue met the charming and playful glint in the Zaunite’s eyes, cheers surrounding the area as the gaze was held, neither one of the women wanting to back down. 

A smirk graced Vi’s lips as she tried to subtly provoke the blue haired woman, leaning back casually against her car as she zipped up her suit, catching the way the Piltie’s eyes flickered down to the fabric pooled around her waist, Vander, Vi’s director, telling her it was time to actually start focussing. Well, almost as the rookie still had some feathers to ruffle.

“Hey Kiramman,” Vi called out once the other woman had looked away, gaining her attention once more as she simply raised her perfect brow up in a questioning manner, her face impassive whilst she waited. “Keep your eyes on the road this time cupcake , wouldn’t want you to get distracted like last time,” she teased after having just stolen the win in the last race, taking her vibrant red helmet off the top of the car, her amused expression growing at the way she saw the subtle clench of Caitlyn’s jaw, observing how her posture tightened that little bit more as the words settled in the champion. 

“See you on the track, Lanes,” was all Caitlyn replied, keeping her response level headed and calm, doing her best to ignore the playful remark and get back to focusing on the upcoming race, wanting to wipe that smug smile off Vi’s face. 

***

Adrenaline pumped through Vi’s entire being as she kept her eyes trained on the Mercedes in front of her, following behind as close as she physically could, waiting to pounce and steal first place from whatever opening the champion would offer her. However, waiting for the perfectionist that was Caitlyn Kiramman to make a mistake was practically pointless, the woman’s consistency on every corner rather infuriating to the Zaunite as she entered the final corner of the penultimate lap a little roughly, braking later to try and gain fractions of a second on her.

“Fuck, come on Cait, give me something,” She muttered to herself, eyes sparkling with a little hope but also eagerness to find something, anything to use to try and improve her position as second wasn’t good enough for Vi anymore, she was here to prove a point. 

There was also an odd burning desire within her to beat Caitlyn, the tension that brewed between them something more, something that festered deep inside them both and made it seem all the more private and intense. 

The anticipation and excitement bubbled with every move the drivers took as they sped through the first and second corners of the final lap, a hint of unfamiliar nerves growing in the pit of Caitlyn's stomach as she spotted how close Vi was to the back of her, the feeling odd to her as she wasn’t so sure as to why the other woman managed to get under her skin so easily, something inside urging her to somehow do more to ensure she would win, the rivalry being something more personal to her than simply holding onto her infamous Kiramman legacy. 

The nerves only grew as they passed another section of the track, Jayce communicating through the radio to Caitlyn about how Vi had seemed to rather impossibly shave off a little more time, the front of the Red Bull's tyres in line with the back of the Mercedes as they sped along the straight stretch, ready to entire the final corners. 

Determination was evident in both women’s eyes but a sudden glint of light flashed in Vi’s eyes as a minute opening revealed itself to her, the red car launching into the corner recklessly as she tried to squeeze passed, the two cars nearly clipping as the Mercedes had to just about dodge the collision, gasps erupting around the track.

It was almost as though everyone was holding their breath as the two cars lined up practically side by side, both trying to get the edge on the other woman as the cars turned sharply, another rash and bold idea swiftly entering Vi’s mind as she tested the ability of the world champion on the final turn. 

Spotting the hasty move, Caitlyn responded instantly by blocking the overambitious attempt, defending her lead in a manner that had the commentators in awe as they watched the rest of the race unfold, a few protests from some at the way the Mercedes blocked the car off, finding it rather controversial at how the Red bull had to brake harshly to prevent the car smashing into the barriers.  A stream of curses and angered words spilt from Vi’s lips as she had to watch helplessly as the Kiramman sigil on the back of the leading car grew smaller in the distance, crossing the line whilst the checkered flag signalled their victory. As she claimed second place, Vi’s blue eyes followed the way the woman in front of her waved to the crowd, celebrating her win proudly, brewing something undecipherable and intense within her as she needed to find a way to express her anger, feeling as though it was an unfair end to the race, Vander attempting to soothe her and express how impressive second still was but the words fell on deaf ears, Vi’s mind focused on one thing.

This wasn’t over yet. 

***

“What the fuck was that?” Vi snapped as soon as she could find a moment with Caitlyn away from the press and media, her helmet being dropped onto the table as she followed the winner into her private lounge, wanting to confront her and find some sort of way to get rid of this strange, bottled up sensation within her. 

“Excuse me?” Caitlyn’s tone expressed her distaste for the way she was being spoken to, the door being shut by Vi as the blue haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, exuding a fierceness that seemed to only just ignite the anger Vi was experiencing as she took in how the Mercedes’ driver looked after the race, a little taken aback by how perfect and flawless she still looked.

“Oh come on, you know exactly what. You nearly sent me into the barriers, that should have been a penalty,” Vi accused, earning a simply scoff in response, an anger starting to build in the pit of Caitlyn’s stomach at the tense encounter, the way Vi stepped closer to her, her usually charming blue filled with nothing but passion and something undecipherable. The blue haired woman simply smiled in almost disbelief as she shook her head at the other woman’s antics, her hands moving to slick her hair back, feeling the sweat that had built up from under her helmet as she smoothed out her perfect locks, catching the attention of Vi as she couldn’t help but look at the way her long, slender digits moved through her hair. 

“God, you’re so predictable,” She muttered out, her head tilting in a slightly condescending manner as she took in the way the pink haired woman’s brows furrowed slightly, taken aback at what was being said. “You drive recklessly but it’s my fault you lost!” Caitlyn’s tone was laced with an underlying annoyance, as though she was irritated by the Zaunite’s driving style for another reason other than how difficult it was to race against, finding it unsafe for her but also Vi. 

“ Predictable ?” Violet’s voice was dripping with offense, her arm moving in the air slightly to exaggerate her point as she spoke, the gesture not going unnoticed as Caitlyn watched the way her arms flexed subtly through the suit, an odd heat settling at her core as she listened to the rant leaving her lips. “I am not predictable,” she huffed out, her entire style based on the principle that she was bold and unpredictable, no one knowing how to race against or challenge her, it was the sole reason Red bull took a chance on her. “And I only lost because you cut me off, we both know I had you on that corner otherwise,” she argued, taking another step closer to her as Cait’s gaze hardened, the way her ice blue eyes were staring into Vi’s soul making her heart flutter strangely, a shiver running down her spine at the way dominance just seemed to suddenly ooze off the Piltovan. 

“I was defending my lead,” She coldly replied, standing up a little straighter and reminding the two of them of the slight height difference, Vi refusing to back down as she stood before her. “It was perfectly legal and you know it, maybe you should have been keeping your ‘eyes on the road’ to notice that I was defending,” she taunted, throwing back Vi’s teasing remark back in her face, a mocking laugh falling from her lips as she chuckled out in disbelief at her words. 

“And you say I’m the one that’s predictable? I should have know that you wouldn’t never be able to believe you were actually in the wrong for once,” Vi muttered in a snarky manner, the tense eye contact seeming to affect both women as the bubbling of heat within them both grew, eyes seeming to subconsciously flicker down to each other’s lips, insatiably drawn to one another. 

“I can accept it,” Cait starts off after snapping out of the small trance of staring at the other woman’s lips, imagining the way they felt as she spotted the small scar against her top lip, her mind wandering down the wrong path as she pictured how plump they would feel against hers, her head shaking to rid the thoughts from her head as she continued, “But I wasn’t in the wrong today, that was you trying to squeeze through a gap that wasn’t there as usual!

“As usual?” Vi snapped back but before she could get another word out, Caitlyn cut her off, not wanting to hear her try and argue something that was clearly true. 

“Oh come on Violet , we all know it!” The words that leave Cait’s lips takes Vi back, the use of her full name triggering something within her, her heart beating that little bit faster as heat courses through her body, the overpowering feeling of arousal confusing her momentarily. “You try something rash and stupid and pray it pays off, I warned you when we first met that it wouldn’t pay off in this league but you didn’t listen,” underneath the irritation in the Piltovan’s tone, there was a hint of something else, Vi’s brows furrowing slightly as Cait continued, seeming to need to get this off her chest.  “You were reckless in the first race and you still are,” she sighs out, a hint of care seeping into her words making everything suddenly click into place in Vi’s mind, a tense silence wrapping around them both. 

Their eyes met once more, the two of them seeming to both realise at the same time why everything felt more intense, felt more personal and significant between them, why it was always more than just a race. The atmosphere around them grew tense as their eyes softened momentarily, searching one another as everything slowly processed in their minds, the feelings that were being uncovered and discovered, the close proximity between them more prominent as they both realised how close they actually were, and the sudden desire to cross a line. 

Naturally, Vi made the bold move to lean forwards, her hand cupping Caitlyn’s cheek as they crashed their lips together, a soft moan escaping the latter as she lost herself into the feeling of Vi’s addictive lips, gasping gently into her mouth before leaning back in for more. Both of them closed their eyes as they let themselves drown in the passion of the kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, pulling each other as close as physically possible as bottled up emotions were poured into the kiss, the anger, care and underlying love taking over them both along with lust and desire, their bodies longing and craving one another. 

Sliding her hands down the toned back of Violet, Caitlyn pulled her closer to her, letting her body be trapped between the wall and the other woman as she sighed softly into the kiss, the two of them smiling into it briefly before going back in for more, their fervent lips constantly brushing one another as their bodies felt an electric connection, arousal clouding their minds. Taking control, Caitlyn let her teeth gently bite down on Vi’s lips, earning a low groan from Violet as she felt her tongue soothe over the dull pain she caused, her tongue then sliding into her mouth as their tongues lewdly slid against each other, igniting a newfound desperation within them both as hunger took over their actions. 

Hands messily found their way to Vi’s hair, the Red Bull racer’s hands moving to the opposite woman’s hips, caressing them before letting her hands continue to explore her body, wanting to know what she enjoyed, eager to witness her reactions. The feeling of slender fingers tugging on her hair sent heat pooling between Vi’s thighs, distracting her momentarily before her lips pressed a little harder against Cait’s, moving them to pepper kisses along her jaw, taking a minute to let her thoughts make sense again, the only thing consuming her mind being the blue haired woman. 

Her lips trailed addictive, hot open-mouthed kisses along the soft and creamy skin she could, the feeling of Cait trying to take control of the situation again making her realise how she still was a little annoyed with the other women, deciding she wanted to get revenge back for just missing out on first place. 

“Vi,” she heard the other woman sigh out sinfully, the way her name fell so effortlessly from her lips, wrapped in that delicate British accent, sent waves of arousal crashing through the Zaunite but she tried her best to not let it affect her as she wanted to tease the woman melting in her arms beyond madness, to torment her and get revenge for the race. 

Pulling back from her enticing skin, Vi gazed into Caitlyn’s eyes, getting lost in the way each shade of blue was filled with desire before letting her hands travel up her body to the zip of her racing suit, asking the silent question for permission. The tender action brought a gentle smile to Caitlyn’s lips, the ice queen’s composure slowly crumbling away as she let her eyes flicker between the aroused glint in Vi’s eyes and her fingers tugging down her zipper, taking in how skilful her fingers looked and how she imagined they would feel buried deep inside her. 

Their lips met once more whilst Vi’s fingers slowly pushed the fabric off her shoulders, fingers sliding under the thick protective gear they had to wear to the thinner fabric, her strong hands gripping onto her hips, squeezing in a manner that Caitlyn found intoxicating, fogging her mind with arousal as she tried to dominate the kiss, wanting to have some sort of control as her body slowly succumbed to the other woman’s touch.

The action however simply made Vi smirk into the kiss, the smug expression accompanied by her hands drifting lower in her suit, meeting the waistband of the leggings the Mercedes’ driver wore under the suit, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“Ah, ah,” she hummed out disapprovingly when Caitlyn tried to take control, a teasing and playful tone to it as she ghosted her lips against hers, brushing them delicately before trailing the soft touches to the shell of her ear, wanting to torment the woman pinned against the wall. “You can be the perfect, composed and in control Kiramman on the track but here,” Vi rasped teasingly, teeth gently biting down on Cait’s earlobe, punctuating the end of her words with a kiss to her cheek and fingers drifting closer to the woman’s core, feeling the way her skin was burning and desperate for more, “Here I want to ruin you.” 

“Fuck,” the word escaped Caitlyn before she could stop it, her eyes fluttering open to meet the amused blue of the other woman as she pulled back briefly to engrave the site of Caitlyn Kiramman speechless before her, the glint of dominance in Violet’s eyes making Caitlyn want to squeeze her thighs together but she didn’t, not wanting to give in so easily. A challenging expression crept onto Caitlyn’s face as she lolled her head back against the wall, offering her neck for Violet to kiss down, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin whilst her fingers slid under the waistband of Cait’s leggings, slowly travelling along her searing skin, feeling the way her muscles twitched under her touch.

“Always so confident,” Caitlyn tried to tease, but her voice betrayed her as the words spilt from her lips in a pleased, shaky sigh, her control and composure diminishing with every touch Vi offered her, her body simply craving to let someone else take control for once.

“It’s part of my charm,” Violet chuckles out against her throat, the feeling of her lips pulling up into a smirk making arousal pool between Caitlyn’s thighs, her legs spreading to welcome the other woman’s hand as she drifted over the neatly trimmed hairs there, groaning softly at how wet she already was. “And we both know you love it,” she mumbled out playfully, kissing along Caitlyn’s jaw and encouraging her to lower her head, wanting to watch her reaction to what was about to happen, needing to see the way pleasure etches its way onto her face. 

“Mhmm,” was all Caitlyn could hum back in response, biting down on her lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape her, the way Violet’s fingers felt sliding through her folds effortlessly, gathering the abundance of arousal that was there and using it to circle her clit, making it hard to keep a hold of the last of her self control, the other woman reading the signs of her body and smirking at the attempt to stay quiet. 

A gasp left Caitlyn when Vi skilfully moved her fingers, letting her thumb circle her clit whilst one of her digits slid in easily to her dripping core, a restrained noise desperately trying to leave her lips at the amount of pleasure and heat that consumed her body. The way Violet’s free hand moved up her body to the back of her head, threading through her blue locks and tugging softly also had desire and pleasure clouding her mind, her eyes fluttering open to meet an amused pair of blue eyes gazing at her hungrily before they drifted down to her lips, admiring the way she attempted to stay composed, her fingers digging into the Red bull driver’s suit. 

“Don’t hold back,” Vi whispers before leaning in for a kiss, brushing lips tenderly as she slowly thrusted her finger into her soaking cunt, curling it beautifully against the other woman’s weak spot, her hips grinding down desperately against her hand as sparks of ecstasy shot through her. “I want to hear you scream for me Cait,” Vi further encourages, earring a slightly louder moan that blessed her ears, the sound spurring her on to keep those sinful sounds falling from her lips, needing to hear all the desperate moans, whines and whimpers that she possibly could. 

“Shit, Vi,” Caitlyn groaned out, the combination of her words and the way her fingers expertly slid into her making her body need more, addicted to the pleasure coursing through her veins, the intoxicating manner in which Violet crashed her lips to her, letting passion once again take over them both. 

“That’s it,” Vi praises, smirking into the next kiss as she feels the effect praise has on the other woman, the way her hips bucked against her hand and how she clenched around her digit signalling just how much she loved it, Caitlyn’s head dropping down to hide at Violet’s neck as she basked in the warmth her skin provided momentarily. “You’re so wet, fuck,” Vi mutters almost in disbelief to herself as she adds another finger into Caitlyn’s core, thrusting them both in a manner that had the other woman delirious with the euphoria building in the pit of her stomach, her eyes fluttering open as she looks down, watching the way Vi’s forearm moves with every skilful pump of her fingers. 

“Do that again- Shit , just like that, right there,” Caitlyn moans out, moving one of her hands to rest over Vi’s shoulder, fingers digging into the toned muscle she knew was under the suit whilst the other moved to the collar of the protective gear, grasping onto the fabric so she could pull the other woman back in for a searing kissing, the need to feel her lips against hers more important than anything else. “Don’t stop,” the words fall from her lips in a plea she was a little embarrassed by, the sheer amount of desperation lacing her words something she wasn’t used to, but part of her didn’t care as being filled up by Vi’s fingers just felt so good, her body being pushed towards that familiar edge.

“Are you close?” Vi pants out into a desperate kiss, keeping her pace steady as she felt Caitlyn’s hips buck a little harder against her hand, a sense of urgency seeping into her movements giving away just how much she needed to feel pleasure crash through her. “Yeah?” The cocky tone further aroused Caitlyn as her knuckles started to bleed white at how tight she was gripping onto the back of Vi’s suit, wanting to let her nails scratch down the tattoos littered over her back, to feel her bare skin under her fingertips. “ Beg me ,” was all Vi rasped out, chuckling softly at the hint of annoyance that instantly etched its way onto Caitlyn’s face, a reluctant look clear for Violet to see, only further amusing her as she watched the internal conflict in the blue opposite her. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn managed out, a hint of a warning tone present in her whisper of the other woman’s name, the corner of Violet’s lips tugging up into a mischievous smirk as she could tell Caitlyn’s pride was preventing her from begging desperately to let her come. 

“Beg me or I won't give you what you want,” she muttered into another lewd kiss, tongues sliding against one another before Caitlyn gasped into her mouth, Vi’s fingers brushing over her sweet spot perfectly, almost blurring her vision with pleasure and causing the Mercedes' driver to give in, simply needing to feel her body being over the edge. 

“Please,” she whined out quietly, ashamed at how submissive she sounded, at how much of an effect Violet had on her, her body begging for her touch, her lips, just her . 

“What was that?” Vi tauntingly questioned, earning a groan of frustration from Caitlyn as she  bit down on the teasing woman’s lips in protest, annoyed at how much fun she was having riling her up. “I couldn’t hear you, you need to say it louder Cait,” she teased, moving the hand that was tangled in blue hair to the woman’s chin, tilting her head to make her look into her eyes as she begged her to take mercy on her, to give her what she so desperately needed. 

“Please Violet,” she pleaded, not hiding the sheer amount of desperation in her tone as their eyes locked, sparks of arousal flooding through them both at the intimate, passionate and intense gaze, Vi unable to resist any longer, needing to see Caitlyn fall apart at her touch. 

“Come for me,” she murmured into a passionate kiss, both of them being consumed by the moment as her fingers curled at just the right spot, thumb still brushing over Caitlyn’s sensitive clit, sending her crashing into her release. “Make a mess all over my fingers,” Vi added before a string of moans spilt from the other woman’s lips like a chant,  pleasure instantly consuming Caitlyn entirely and wracking through her, body tensing and trembling in Vi’s strong arms as her release crashed through her powerfully. 

Violet took in every sigh, every soft moan that gracefully fell from Caitlyn’s lips as she rode out her high, the slight twitched from her body as euphoria and ecstasy overwhelmed her, her hips slowly coming to a stop against her hand whilst she relaxed against her comforting body, sinking into it as Vi pressed her into the wall to keep her upright, letting her recover from the exhaustion of her release and the race from earlier. Tenderly, she also brushed back the stray strands of blue from out of Caitlyn’s eyes, tucking a few behind her ear as a delicate and beautiful smile stretched across Cait’s face, the intimacy wrapping around them both greatly appreciated by both women. 

“Don’t get used to that,” Caitlyn mumbled after a moment, holding the soft gaze, letting a hint of mirth appear in her eyes for Violet to see, her smile growing that little bit wider as she raised her eyebrow expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate, “ Next time , I’ll be in charge and I’ll remind you of your place.” 

“Next time?” Chuckled out Vi, a sudden excitement growing in her at the idea of spending more time with the other woman, a small nod from Caitlyn making her smile even more. “And where is my place?” She humorously asked, sliding her hand out of the other woman’s suit, bringing her fingers that were covered in Caitlyn’s cum to her lips, groaning a little at the taste of her whilst Caitlyn watched in awe, unable to take her eyes off her lips as they wrap around her fingers. 

“Under me,” she purrs out, that usual confident and dominant demeanour returning in the Piltovan, her eyes flickering between Vi’s eyes and lips before leaning in to softly press their lips together, her arms loosely wrapping around the back of her neck as they savour the moment. 

“We’ll see about that,” Vi huffs out, her hands settling at Caitlyn’s hips as they let a comfortable silence wrap around them both tenderly, their eyes conveying the emotions they both felt whilst they held the soft and gentle look, both of them glad that they crossed a line, ready to see where this would take them. 

[themischiefcollective]

Can’t believe they animated an hour long sex scene in arcane thats crazy

[thehoneybeestings]

Enemies to Lovers with Dancer!Vi x Dancer!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Content/Warnings: enemies to lovers, modern!au, dancer!vi au, dancer!reader, suggestive, fem reader (gn pronouns used, though), probably some dance discrepancies because i'm not a dancer myself

A/N: I had so much fun writing this; Vi and reader are so sassy like can y'all just fuck it out already... anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

୨ৎ The day your mom took you to your local dance company's performance of The Nutcracker was the day your love for dance began

୨ৎ At 7, you could hardly tell the difference between The Royal Ballet and Piltover Springs Dance School; and to say you were in awe was the understatement of the century

୨ৎ The glittering tutus, the leaps and twirls; you were sure you'd just discovered what you wanted to be when you grew up: A Ballerina

୨ৎ And here you were now; not quite a Royal Ballerina, but, you'd just gotten cast as The Sugar Plum Fairy in the very same annual performance of The Nutcracker you'd seen 11 years ago

୨ৎ You were beaming, trying your best to contain your excitement as the director of the school read out the rest of the cast list, until...

୨ৎ "For the first time in Piltover Springs Dance School history, our board was left completely at a loss when attempting to choose between our two top contenders for Star Senior. For this reason, we unanimously agreed that this year's Senior Showcase will feature both students. We’ve decided on a contemporary duet, and for this piece, we've chosen Y/n Y/l/n, and Violet Lanes. Round of applause for this year's Star Seniors!"

୨ৎ Your smile drops as quickly as it had appeared on your face just minutes ago

୨ৎ What. The. Hell.

୨ৎ You'd been pushing yourself beyond measure to earn this distinction, and if you were being honest, you'd rather not have earned it all than be the first student in the school's history forced to share it; and nevertheless, with Violet Lanes

୨ৎ As much you loved dance, you hated Violet; who was now more commonly referred to as Vi, courtesy of the nickname her first dance teacher gave to her

୨ৎShe’d been taking Hip-Hop lessons at the school for as long as you'd been taking Ballet lessons, and by the time you both started taking the same contemporary dance class in the 6th grade, your instructors had already started placing bets on which one of you it would be to earn the Star Senior distinction

୨ৎ You wonder if maybe you and Vi could've become friends if it weren't for how fiercely competitive you both were

୨ৎ But, alas: the two of you were nothing if not fiercely competitive, and oh how ironic it was that you'd now share the distinction that had driven you two so far apart

୨ৎ Clearly, Ekko was loving the irony

୨ৎ "Alright, alright, Star Senior! I can't wait for this one..." he'd say, rubbing his hands together with a shit-eating grin on his face

୨ৎ "I'm so pissed," you'd laugh incredulously, shoving pointe shoes into your bag, "I’d even let Caitlyn have my goddamn spot instead!”

୨ৎ "Ouch,"

୨ৎ You'd recognize the voice behind you anywhere

୨ৎ "If we're gonna be spending this much time together, you might wanna learn to love me, sugar plum.”

୨ৎ You turn to see Vi holding out a piece of paper- the schedule for the upcoming dance season- and your eyes scan for the following dates and times:

୨ৎ Mon, Tues, Thurs, Fri- Company Rehearsal: The Nutcracker; 5:30-7:00 PM

୨ৎ Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri- Senior Showcase Rehearsal; 7:15-8:00 PM

୨ৎ You double, triple, quadruple check that you’re seeing this right

୨ৎ "Every day...?" you whisper, mostly to yourself

୨ৎ "Every day. Short sessions, so we can't really afford not to meet every day."

୨ৎ You look up to find that she's sucking her teeth, trying her best not to crack a satisfied smile at the irritation on your face, and anger pierces through you like a lightning bolt

୨ৎ “You're such a dick,” you seethe, eyes narrowed

୨ৎ She just rolls her own in response, unphased as usual; you'd never been able to get a rise out of her the way she could get one out of you, and that just pissed you off even more

୨ৎ “Look,” she sighs, “I don't want to do this stupid ass duet any more than you do, and I sure as hell didn't bust my ass for this distinction so that I could share it, so let's just get the show over with, and then we never have to see each other again. Cool?”

୨ৎ And you admit- for the first time ever, and certainly not out loud- that she's right; you just needed to get through the next eight months, and then you'd never have to see Violet Lanes again…

୨ৎ But why didn't that feel as good to think about as you thought it would? 

୨ৎ When 7:15 PM rolls around the next evening, you're already spent from your first day of rehearsals for The Nutcracker

୨ৎ You're hot, sweaty, and tired; and when you walk in a minute late to see Vi checking the imaginary watch on her hand, you know the next few months are going to test your patience like nothing has before

୨ৎ “Don’t piss me off,” you spit, shaking your head as you hold a hand out to her

୨ৎ Vi quirks an eyebrow and chuckles through her nose. "Hello to you too, sugar plum."

୨ৎ You scoff at the stupid nickname before you both turn to the instructor, whose eyebrows are raised as he wonders what the hell he's just gotten himself into

୨ৎ The two of you barely speak to each other during your rehearsals; you're just there to learn the moves, and frankly, try not to end each session at each other’s throats

୨ৎ The latter is a bit of a challenge for the two of you, surprising no one, but what does surprise you is the undeniable chemistry you and Vi have as dance partners

୨ৎ You two are quick to learn every move, and even quicker to learn each other; you sync effortlessly… 

୨ৎ Until, the lift

୨ৎ You could not-for the life of you- get the damn lift down

୨ৎ In fact, it takes an entire week of rehearsals to get halfway there, and even then, it's nowhere near performance-ready

୨ৎ "We might have to scratch the lift and come up with something else," your instructor muses, scratching his chin and looking down at his notebook for other ideas

୨ৎ And Vi is quick to notice the way your face falls in response to his words

୨ৎ To know you was to know someone who demanded perfection from themselves, and it was evident that the idea of not being able to handle something as simple as a lift was going to eat at you

୨ৎ And so, she asks you to stay late that day… a proposal you immediately reject, because,

୨ৎ “I don’t need extra practice, and I certainly don’t need to spend more time with you.”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” she’d deadpan, hands on her hips, “Cut the shit. This is why we can’t get the lift down. You freeze up as soon as you get halfway in the air, and when you hesitate, I hesitate, and then I start to drop you, and all of this because you hate me so much that you can’t even relax into a lift you learned to do when you were 15.”

୨ৎ You huff out a laugh, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms

୨ৎ “Seriously?” You challenge, “Well… maybe you’re just not strong enough to-”

୨ৎ She quirks an eyebrow and gives you a knowing smirk

୨ৎ Yeah… you kinda figured that one wouldn’t work

୨ৎ “Okay… well, I actually learned to do that lift when I was 13, so it’s been a while since-”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” she interrupts, her voice much more stern than the first time your name left her lips 

୨ৎ “What?!” you seethe, now kicking yourself for getting so damn flustered

୨ৎ Vi takes a step forward, and for the first time in your 7-year-long rivalry, her expression softens as she speaks to you

୨ৎ And something blossoms in your belly; something much too close to butterflies for your liking…

୨ৎ “What we’re doing… it’s not working anymore.”

୨ৎ You look up at her through your eyelashes, a pout on your face

୨ৎ You know she’s right

୨ৎ “The break-up speech usually happens after we date, for the record,” you mumble

୨ৎ And she can’t help but laugh, and you can’t help but crack a smile, and have her eyes always crinkled up like that when she laughs?

୨ৎ “C’mon, you know what I mean. You don’t have to like me… but you’ve at least gotta trust me. Just enough for me to hold you in the air for like, three seconds,” she chuckles, “can you do that?”

୨ৎ You stare at her; pensive, hesitant

୨ৎ “I can try.”

୨ৎ “Okay,” she breathes out with a smile, “Then let’s try.”

୨ৎ She presses play on her phone, the same 10-second interval that you’ve heard countless times now begins playing, and you go for the lift; better this time, but she can feel that you’re still unsure 

୨ৎ “Damn it,” you spit as she places you back onto your feet

୨ৎ But this time, her hands don’t leave your hips

୨ৎ “Hey,” she calls out with a squeeze to your sides, “Relax. It’s okay, you’re doing good. I’ve got you, I promise.” 

୨ৎ She’s never talked to you like this before

୨ৎ Had her voice always sounded so sweet? 

୨ৎ Where did that scar on her lip come from?

୨ৎ When did she get this close to you?

୨ৎ “You good?” 

୨ৎ Your eyes snap up to meet hers, and what a pretty shade of blue, and you don’t even mean to lick your lips, and- 

୨ৎ “No fucking way,” she smirks, “you’re checking me out right now?” 

୨ৎ You’re quick to push off of her, immediately denying such claims

୨ৎ “No! What are you talking about? I’m not-”

୨ৎ “Dude, you so are; you just bit your lip!”

୨ৎ “I did not-” you break with a chuckle, closing your eyes. “I was not checking you out.”

୨ৎ“Look at you! Lying through your teeth! It was so obvious, Y/n, I swear to-”

୨ৎ “Are you gonna keep stating the obvious then? Or are you gonna do something about it?”

୨ৎ And oh, did she.

୨ৎ Right there in the studio. 

୨ৎ (And all those mirrors… really makes you think…)

୨ৎ Anyhow... it's safe to say that the next day, your instructor was pleasantly surprised to find that the lift was suddenly no longer an issue

୨ৎ You have your first costume fitting the next week

୨ৎ Your tutu was baby pink, covered in glitter and Swarovski crystals, and stuck straight out from your hips; it was exactly what you dreamed of wearing when you saw The Nutcracker for the first time

୨ৎ You'd beam at yourself in the mirror before turning to Ekko, who was already in his Nutcracker costume

୨ৎ "How do I look?" You'd ask

୨ৎ "Holy shit,"

୨ৎ You and Ekko would turn to the voice you'd recognize anywhere; and there stood a head of hot-pink hair, leaning against the doorframe of the ballet studio, chewing on a granola bar

୨ৎ "You look like a fucking cupcake."

୨ৎ Ekko would let out a bark of laughter, and you'd roll your eyes

୨ৎ "I'm a Sugar Plum Fairy," you'd correct, annoyance lacing your tone

୨ৎ "The Sugar Plum Fairy, lest I not forget," Vi would tease

୨ৎ And Ekko would think he was going crazy when he sees Vi shoot you a wink, and you smile back

୨ৎ “Pretty,” Vi would muse before strolling off into the hallway

୨ৎ Okay, now he was sure he was going crazy

୨ৎ “Wait… Y/n, is that a hickey on your neck?!”

End ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

P.S. - so do y'all want a full-length dance studio smut scene or...

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV , Part V , Part VI , Part VII , Part VIII

Summary: It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

Warnings/themes : fluff, kissing, very slight explicit content, mentions of weed

Word count: 5.6k

You jumped off the bar counter, landing on the worn wooden floor just as Vi tossed your dress at you with that lazy smirk you were starting to know all too well. You caught it mid-air, quickly slipping it over your head as the relentless banging on the door continued. “Shit,” you mumbled, fumbling to fix your hair, panic making your fingers clumsy. Behind you, Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and when you turned to glare at her, she looked utterly unbothered, her smirk growing wider. “What?” she teased, her tone playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh back, shaking your head as you opened the door, still smiling despite the chaos.

“I forgot my keys,” Revek said, standing in the doorway looking sheepish. His eyes darted between you and the room behind you, and it didn’t take long for him to piece together what he had interrupted. You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him in without a word. His gaze swept over the bar, the scattered glasses, the half-done cleanup job. He didn’t say anything, but his raised eyebrows said enough.

“Looks like someone got carried away with cleaning the bar,” Revek said sarcastically as he made his way to the back door.

“I think someone’s about to get fired,” Vi whispered, her voice low as she leaned in close to your ear. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you shoved her back with a laugh.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face.

Vi bit her lip, clearly trying to hold back her laughter.

Revek returned, shaking his head as he headed toward the exit. “I was knocking for way too long,” he said, clearly unimpressed.

“Yeah, we got carried away,” Vi said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing,” Revek replied flatly as he walked out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.

The rest of the night was quieter, the kind of quiet that buzzed with unspoken words. You both worked on tidying the bar, though your focus wavered every time your eyes met hers. She’d glance at you from across the room, her lips curving into a soft smile, and your heart would skip a beat. You started bumping into her on purpose, brushing past her as she collected glasses from tables. Each time, her reaction was the same—a chuckle, followed by her hands on your waist, moving you aside like she was trying to tame a playful dance partner. Only this wasn’t dancing. This was something else entirely. Something you didn’t have the words for but could feel in every charged glance, every stolen moment. The walk home was no different. The streetlights cast a dim glow over the empty roads, and for the most part, the two of you walked in silence. But the tension between you was undeniable. Every so often, you’d glance at her, only to catch her already watching you. Neither of you said anything, but you’d smile, and she’d smile back, and those butterflies you tried to ignore would take flight all over again. When you finally reached the stairs to your apartments, she grabbed your hand, her fingers brushing yours in a way that made your breath catch. You stopped outside her door, but she didn’t let go.

“I can’t let you get home alone,” she said, her voice low and teasing, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “I’m literally one floor up. I think I can manage.”

Her smirk softened into something sweeter, but she didn’t argue. She followed you up the stairs to your apartment, stopping just outside your door. You unlocked it and stepped inside, half-expecting her to follow. But when you turned around, she was still standing in the hallway, her eyes fixed on you with a warmth that made your heart ache. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing your cheek in the gentlest touch.

“I think that's it for today,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

You understood what she meant. She knew exactly how you felt—how scared you were of moving too fast, of losing yourself in something you weren’t ready for. She wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing. She was just there, taking the steps with you, one at a time.

“It is,” you whispered, leaning into her touch as you closed your eyes. “I didn’t expect to end the night like this.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Was it a bad ending?”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “No. It was nice.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, right where her tattoo curved along her skin. Her breath hitched, just for a moment, before her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her warmth seeping into you as you melted into her embrace. You didn’t even try to stop yourself from hugging her back, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory.

“Thank you for understanding, Vi,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re so… gentle.”

Her grip on you tightened, just for a second. “You’re worth it,” she said softly, her voice steady, sure.

When she finally let go, the warmth of her lingered, spreading through you long after she was gone. Butterflies still danced in your stomach as you closed the door, your mind replaying the night’s moments over and over again.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

The café buzzed with quiet chatter, the occasional clink of cups and the hum of conversation blending into the background. You nudged Ellie with your shoulder, breaking her out of her silent thoughts.

“Well?” you asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “What do you think?”

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed in thought as she hesitated. Finally, she muttered, “She seems… different.” She added a light shrug, clearly trying to keep the mood easy.

“Yeah, she is,” you said, standing up and grabbing your jacket. Ellie followed your lead, pulling on her own. “I remember when we first met. I was still working at that crappy arts and crafts store—God, I hated that place. She just walked in, looking so lost, like a freaking puppy.” You laughed at the memory, heading toward the door. Ellie trailed behind you, hands stuffed in her pockets, but her gaze stayed locked on you, her soft smile encouraging you to continue.

“I walked up to her to see if she needed help, but the second she started talking, her whole vibe changed. Like, her gaze—it just flipped. I swear, it was like I was talking to a completely different person. I’ve never seen anything like it.” The two of you exited the café, and as soon as the chill of the late afternoon air hit, Ellie slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing gentle circles against your skin as she listened.

“She started coming around more often,” you continued, your voice dipping slightly, “then one day, she invited me over. She showed me her drawings, and, well… one thing led to another.” You glanced at Ellie, her loving eyes catching yours, and you felt warmth spread through your chest. “Now she’s practically my best friend. Weirdest person I know, though. She’s got the craziest stories.” You laughed, the sound light and genuine, as the two of you made your way back to the apartment you shared.

The walk home was filled with comfortable silence, Ellie's hand never leaving yours. Every now and then, her thumb brushed against your knuckles, the subtle gesture grounding you in a way that made your heart flutter. When you finally reached the apartment, you pushed the door open, stepping inside and shrugging off your jacket. Ellie followed close behind, her boots thudding softly against the floor. As you caught sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, you frowned, noticing how messy your hair had gotten in the cold wind. Reaching up, you started fixing it, but as you adjusted a stray strand, you caught Ellie’s reflection behind you. She was watching you intently, her expression unreadable at first, but then her lips curved into a small, crooked smile. She stepped closer, her presence almost magnetic.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could reply, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your ear.

“Mhm,” you managed, your voice catching in your throat. Her touch completely threw you off guard.

“You are,” she insisted, her lips trailing lower, planting feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Ellie…” you whispered, her name barely audible as your breath hitched. She didn’t stop. Her hands slid around your waist, nimble fingers slowly unzipping your jeans.

“Shhh,” she hushed, her voice low and commanding, sending another jolt of heat through you. Her hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, her fingers brushing against your already wet core, her touch electrifying.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“Shit.” The word slipped out as your eyes fluttered open. The morning light didn’t bother you as much as the realization of where your thoughts had gone. Her. Again. You dragged a hand across your face, hoping to wipe away the remnants of a dream you didn’t want to admit you’d had. It was her, always her. As if she’d carved out a permanent place in your mind, one she visited uninvited. But this time felt different. That familiar ache, the longing for her, seemed to be fading, replaced by something sharper. Anger. She had already wrecked your life once, shattered it like glass, leaving you to piece it back together alone. And now? Now, even from afar, she still managed to haunt you, to stir up chaos where you wanted peace. You clenched your jaw, wishing more than anything to tear her memory out of your head.

Especially now.

You thought of someone else—her. Someone new. Someone who had slipped into your life in a way you hadn’t expected. Someone who made you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you still could. She wasn’t perfect; far from it, actually. Infuriating at times, quick with sharp, sarcastic remarks . She could be reckless, explosive, and maddening. But there was something about her—something raw and honest.

And beautiful.

God, she was beautiful.

Her face crept into your mind, unbidden. Light blue eyes, piercing and electric, capable of softening in rare, quiet moments. The curve of her nose, the strong lines of her jaw, and those tattoos that seemed to tell a story you were desperate to understand. Her muscles—lean and powerful—moved like they carried the weight of the world. And when she touched you. Even a fleeting brush of her hand seemed to burn itself into your skin, leaving you breathless.You shook your head, catching yourself smiling like an idiot.

“SHIT,” you muttered again, this time with more exasperation than frustration. It was ridiculous, the whole thing. A mess of feelings tangled up in someone who was so far from uncomplicated. The sharp scrape of a chair against the floor grounded you, breaking the trance. You pushed yourself out of bed and headed for the kitchen, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. As you cracked eggs into a pan, the irony of it all hit you. Here you were, trying to rebuild your life, to move forward. And yet, your mind was still a battleground. One ghost wouldn’t leave, and another figure—a very real one—was taking up more and more space every day.

All day at work, your mind refused to stay in the present. Every time you wiped down a table or carried a tray, your thoughts drifted back to her—to Vi. Last night’s moments played over and over again, a mix of warmth and uncertainty stirring in your chest. But one thing was clear: it was your turn now. She’d been so gentle with you, so careful, and all you wanted was to show her the same. She deserved to know how much you wanted this… whatever this was.

On your way home, you stopped at the corner market, grabbing a few sweets that caught your eye. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a start. You clutched the bag tightly as you walked to her apartment, your steps slowing the closer you got. And then you were standing in front of her door, heart pounding in your chest.

You hesitated.

What if this was a mistake? What if you were pushing too much, too soon? But then you thought of her, the way she smiled at you, the way she held you so gently last night, like you were something precious. You couldn’t back out now. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly, just a few taps, as if testing the waters.

You waited. Nothing.

Biting your lip, you knocked again, this time louder. Still, no answer. The silence in the hallway felt deafening, pressing down on you like a weight.

“Maybe she’s not home,” you mumbled to yourself, backing away slowly. But as you turned to head to your own apartment, the doubts crept in.

What if she was home and just didn’t want to see you? What if she regretted last night? What if she thought this was a mistake? Maybe you scared her off. Or worse, maybe she was at some bar with another girl, someone less complicated, someone who wasn’t as broken as you were. You slammed your apartment door shut behind you, leaning against it as your chest tightened. The thoughts wouldn’t stop.

“Why would she want someone like me?” you muttered, pacing the room. “Why would anyone want to deal with all this? broken pieces of what could be a person"

The panic bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. You couldn’t take it anymore—the overthinking, the fear, the ache in your chest. You needed to calm down. Then you remembered the stash of weed tucked away in your drawer. It wasn’t much, but it would help take the edge off.

Minutes later, you were on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp the only light in the room. The smoke swirled around you, the quiet hum of your breath the only sound. You took a long puff, then another, letting the haze settle over you like a blanket. Your racing thoughts began to slow, blurring together until they were almost incoherent.

But still, glimpses of her snuck through the fog. Her face, her laugh, her touch—they lingered, like a faint melody you couldn’t shake. You reached for the bag of sweets, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth.

“You don’t even know if she likes these,” you muttered, scoffing at yourself. “Why would you buy something you’re not even sure she’d want?” You grabbed another, chewing absentmindedly as your thoughts drifted. “What does she like?” you wondered aloud. “Street food, probably. She seems like the kind of person who’d get fries from a truck at 2 a.m. And blue… she’d like blue. It suits her.” You smiled to yourself, thinking of her tattoos, her strong hands, the way her voice softened when she spoke to you. “She probably loves boxing. She’d be amazing at it,” you mused, picturing her in the ring, confident and unstoppable.

And then the knock came. It was soft but deliberate, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. Your heart leapt in your chest as you sat up, the bag of sweets tumbling to the floor. For a moment, you just stared at the door, frozen.

Could it be her?

You stood, your legs unsteady as you walked over. Slowly, you opened the door, and there she was. Vi stood in the hallway, her hair slightly messy, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile when she saw you, her light blue eyes flicking down to the bag of sweets on the floor.

“Hey,” she said, her voice low and warm.

“I knocked like 5 times.”

You blinked, your mind struggling to catch up. “I—uh—didn’t hear it,” you stammered, stepping aside to let her in.

Vi glanced around your apartment as she walked in, her presence immediately filling the space. She noticed the faint smell of smoke lingering in the air and raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Something like that.”

Her gaze softened as she stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “You okay?”

The concern in her voice made your chest tighten, and suddenly, everything you’d been feeling threatened to spill out. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing hard.

“I, uh… I brought these for you,” you said, gesturing to the sweets on the floor. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just… guessed.”

Vi crouched down, picking up the bag. She pulled out one of the candies, inspecting it with a small smile before popping it into her mouth. “Not bad,” she said, her voice light. “But next time, just ask me.”

“Next time?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat.

She grinned, her hands sliding down to take yours. “Yeah, next time. I’m not going anywhere.” And just like that, the doubts, the fears, the panic—it all faded away. Standing there with her, her hands warm against yours, you felt the butterflies return, fluttering wildly in your chest. The room felt like it was spinning, the world soft and blurry from how high you were. You slouched back into the couch, your limbs heavy, your head tilting lazily as you looked at her. She stood near the window, her face lit by the faint streetlights outside.

“I mean, you have to smoke,” you mumbled, your voice sluggish but steady. You waved vaguely toward her. “I can’t be alone like this.”

Her laugh was soft, but it had that playful edge that made you focus on her. She walked over, slow and calm, like nothing in the world could rush her.

"I don’t mind,” she said, sliding onto the couch beside you. She reached over to the ashtray, plucking the joint sitting there, and with a spark of her lighter, took a long drag. Her exhale drifted through the room, curling into the air between you two. The moment felt still, almost too quiet.

“I thought you were ignoring me,” you blurted suddenly, a mix of nerves and blunt honesty spilling out before you could stop yourself.

She glanced at you, that smirk pulling at her lips. “I wasn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just… helping a friend with something.”

“You’re always so secretive,” you said, turning to face her more. She didn’t reply, not right away. Instead, she grabbed the bag of candies , tossing one into her mouth casually. Her cheek puffed out just slightly as she chewed, the moment annoyingly nonchalant.

“You’re sharing something,” you mocked her lightly, narrowing your eyes. “And then you go right back to being mysterious again. Typical.”

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she popped another candy into her mouth. “Thought you said these were ’just okay.’”

Her words made you laugh, and it almost annoyed you how easily she got under your skin.

“You’re funny. I’ll give you that,” she said, turning slightly to face you now, her grin still faint but there.

“Oh yeah?” you leaned in just a little, the playful teasing in your tone impossible to hide. “What else am I?”

She tilted her head like she was actually thinking about it, but there was something sharp behind her smile.

“You’re kinda annoying sometimes,” she said, with that pretend innocence that had your stomach twisting. “Like, you have to be in control of everything happening around you.” She paused, as if adding more weight to her words. “And, you can be infuriating—actually unbearable sometimes.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended, but before you could fire back, she continued, her voice softening in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“But,” she said, her tone lower now, more serious, “you’re really smart. You don’t miss anything. Like, you can read people—read me—before I even realize what I’m feeling.” Her eyes flicked to yours, lingering a moment too long. “It’s… sexy.”

You couldn’t speak. Her words, the way she looked at you, the softness in her voice—it left you frozen, but also craving more.

“And you’re brave,” she continued, leaning in slightly. “Brave in that reckless, impossible way. You never back down. No matter what’s in front of you.” There was something raw in the way she said it, something that hit deeper than you expected.

Her hand drifted to the couch, brushing close to yours but not quite touching. Her eyes dropped, lingering on your lips as her voice softened even more.

“And you’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Her words made your heart pound. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—not after hearing all that. Slowly, carefully, you leaned in, closing the small space between you until your lips brushed hers.She didn’t pull away. She leaned into you, letting the kiss grow deeper. Your lips moved together slowly, each touch more electric than the last, her breath soft against your skin. When you finally pulled back, it was just an inch, but enough to make her lean forward like she didn’t want the kiss to end.

“You ignored what I said,” you teased, voice low, barely above a mumble.

She let out a shaky breath, clearly thrown by the moment. “Fine,” she said, her voice quiet but steady now. “Ask me anything you want.”Maybe it was the high. Maybe it was the warmth of her body next to yours. Whatever it was, the words came out before you had a chance to second-guess them.

“Who’s Cait?”

Her whole body stiffened, and for a second, you thought she wouldn’t answer. But then, she turned to you, her expression carefully unreadable.

“Only girl I’ve ever loved before,” she admitted, her voice soft but clear.

“Your ex?” you asked, trying to add a playful edge to lighten things. “Tell me she’s your ex.”

She gave a short laugh, but it sounded a little off. “We weren’t actually together,” she said, almost like she was ashamed of it.

“Oh, damn,” you muttered, blinking in surprise. “Ouch. That must’ve hurt. What happened? Let me guess—she was in love with someone else or something?”

Her eyes flicked to the floor, and she sighed before answering. “How do I even say this?” Her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “She… she got me out of prison.”

Your jaw dropped. “Prison?! Wait, hold up. You were in prison?”

She let out a faint laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching. “For eight years.”

“EIGHT YEARS?! When—how—what the hell?” You sat up straighter, the words spilling out in disbelief.

“I was fifteen when I got there,” she said with a shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal.

You stared at her, trying to piece it all together. “Wait, hold on. You’ve been in prison since you were a kid? What even happened?”

She shook her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll tell you everything. But not now, later,” she said firmly. Then, her voice dropped, just slightly teasing. “It’s my turn now anyway.”

You felt your stomach twist as her gaze turned sharp again. You already knew what was coming.

“Who’s Ellie?” she asked.

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, the question hitting deeper than you wanted to admit.

“Stealing my question , huh?” you joked weakly, trying to stall. But the look in her eyes said she wasn’t letting it go.

“She’s the only girl I’ve ever loved,” you admitted finally. Your voice sounded strange to your own ears, raw and vulnerable.

“And?” she pressed gently.

“We were together for three years. Then, one day, she just… left.” You paused, swallowing hard. “She packed her bags while I was at work and just walked out. No goodbye. No explanation.” You hesitated before continuing. “She… left me wondering what I did wrong. And here I am.”

You stopped, glancing up at her. Her eyes were soft, and there was something in the way she looked at you that made you feel like the pieces of you might actually be okay one day.But before you could get lost in the moment, you asked what was burning at the edge of your thoughts. “Why was Cait looking for your sister?”

The question made her freeze again. She looked away for a moment, as though gathering herself. And then, she started to talk. Her story came out slowly, piece by piece. She told you everything—about Cait, her sister, and the impossible choices she had to make. It was one of the wildest, saddest, and most intense stories you’d ever heard. And yet, as she spoke, something deep in your chest began to stir. There was something about her story, it was like you heard it somewhere else, but couldn't quite gather where.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“I always had a feeling she couldn’t be trusted,” she mumbled, her raspy voice carrying just enough weight to make you glance her way. She was lounging in her usual devil-may-care style, legs stretched out, boots resting obnoxiously on the table.

“Well, I can’t say the same thing about me,” you muttered with a sarcastic chuckle, though the sadness in your voice betrayed you. You weren’t exactly hiding it well.

“Tell me about it,” she quipped, leaning back even further in her chair as if the entire world bored her. Her smirk was infuriating, her tone always teetering between teasing and dismissive. “So, what now? You gonna sit at home all day, dreaming about what could’ve been? Scribble some tragic poetry, maybe cry a little?”

“Shut up, Faye,” you groaned, shoving her boots off the table with a little more force than necessary. She stumbled slightly. She could be impossible, always in her own chaotic orbit, dragging you into her storms. But she was your best friend—your only friend—and that meant you put up with her.

“Go ahead, take it all out on me,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Like I’m the one who broke your heart and left you in pieces.” She reached for something random on the table, fiddling with it, probably just to keep herself entertained. Then, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes, she added, “Want me to mess her up? Like, real bad? I could do that, you know.”

“What? No!” You snapped your head toward her, heart skipping a beat because, knowing Faye, she wasn't bluffing. “Don’t you dare! I mean it.”

“Sheesh, relax,” she said with a lazy grin, waving you off like your concern was completely unwarranted. “I was just joking.” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “Mostly.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Faye was… Faye. Beneath all her reckless bravado and endless sarcasm, you knew she cared. She just had a strange way of showing it.

After a beat of silence, she spoke again, her tone softer this time, less guarded. “Maybe you should do what I did,” she said suddenly, leaning forward just a little. “Get out of this place. Have a fresh start. Forget all the crap tying you down.”

You exhaled deeply, her words hitting a nerve. The thought of leaving—leaving the chaos, leaving her—had crossed your mind more times than you could count. It sounded good, too good. But there was always the same question gnawing at you.

“Where am I supposed to go, though?” you asked quietly, sitting across from her now. Your gaze met hers, searching for some kind of answer. For once, she didn’t shoot back a quip or a smirk. Instead, her eyes dropped as she tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear.

“You could go to Zaun,” she murmured, almost like the name itself was a forbidden word.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Zaun? You’ve got to be kidding me. I know next to nothing about that place.”

“You know plenty,” she countered, a bit of her usual sharpness returning. “I’ve told you, like, a billion stories about it. More than enough to survive there.”

You hesitated " Maybe you can come with me" you mumbled

" I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?” you pressed, the idea of dragging Faye along suddenly sparking something hopeful in you. “You said you left some people behind there, like your—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her voice hard enough to make you stop mid-sentence.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t go back there,” she said, her tone now angry, maybe even hurt. “I’m better off without Zaun. And Zaun’s better off without me.”

You stared at her, confused and a little stunned. She stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.

“If you decide to go,” she said, her voice low but steady, “you have to promise me something.”

You blinked, unsure where this was headed. “What?”

"You can’t tell anyone about me,” she said, her words almost a whisper now, but they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken things. “Not a single soul. You have to promise me that.” Her eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw in them—fear, maybe? Or regret? Either way, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I promise,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure who you were promising to protect—Faye, or yourself.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“You okay?” Vi’s voice pulled you out of your swirling thoughts. It was soft, but it struck like a jolt to your system. Your heart skipped a beat as your brain scrambled, clinging to distant memories that shouldn’t have been there.

It can’t be right, you thought. No, it can’t.

“Hey?” Vi said again, and this time her hand grazed yours. The small gesture made you flinch slightly, but it also tethered you to the present.Her brows knitted together, “Did I say something wrong?” Her voice had a slight edge of worry now, and that only made the heavy knot in your chest tighten further. You forced yourself to breathe, to focus, blinking a few times before your eyes finally met hers. Her worried expression only made your heart sink deeper.

“I’m…” You paused, the lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding. “I’m okay,” you lied, quickly pressing a fake smile onto your lips like armor.

She didn’t look convinced. Not even a little.

“I just need a glass of water,” you muttered, avoiding her eyes.

Before you could get up, Vi stood quickly, not hesitating for even a second. “Wait, I’ll get it,” she offered, already making her way to the kitchen. You stayed frozen, your body heavy against the couch. The sound of running water trickled through the quiet space, but your thoughts drowned it out completely.

It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

“Here.”

Her voice sliced through the chaos in your head like a razor. You looked up just as she handed you the glass of water, her expression softer than you’d expected.

Vi tilted her head slightly, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle she didn’t understand. Her lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but instead, she stepped back, leaning against the side of the couch with her arms crossed.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

You nodded too quickly, taking a sip of water even though your hands were unsteady. “Yeah, totally fine,” you said, trying to sound casual.

But Vi didn’t buy it. Not even a little. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, intense and searching, and it made your pulse quicken.

“You’re a terrible liar, y’know,” she finally said, her tone laced with that same mix of teasing and concern she always seemed to master.

“I’m not lying,” you shot back, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

Vi arched a brow, leaning slightly closer. “Right. And I’m the queen of Piltover,” she said, smirking faintly.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, even if it was half-hearted.

The humor faded as quickly as it came, and her smirk softened, her head tilting as she studied you. “You were out of it for a second there,” she said. Her voice dropped, softer now. “What happened? What were you thinking about?”

Her question caught you off guard. You stared at her, the words building in your throat but refusing to come out.

“I just…” You hesitated, your grip tightening on the glass. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she pressed gently, her gaze steady. “You don’t just zone out like that for no reason. If it’s not nothing, just tell me.”

You looked down at the water, watching the small ripples sway as your hands trembled faintly.

" it's nothing Vi, really " you lied once agin

Vi raised a brow but didn’t push. You looked at her again, studying the quiet strength in her expression, the way she was watching you so carefully. She didn’t look annoyed or impatient—she looked like she genuinely cared.

And that only made the storm in your chest worse.

Author's note: I'm not saying anything... just waiting for YOUR RESPONSE 👀Don't hesitate to message me, we can talk about it.

P.S. next chapters might take longer because I kind of wrote them before hand, I was just adding details, plus I had free time. I know where story is goinh but, writing such long fic is hard , so I might take a longer, I don't know for sure. But your response has been nothing but amazing! seriously , thank you anyone wro reads, comments, shares my story. your support means world!

[rougesquadron9]

i will NEVER shut up about the betrayal factor between cait and vi because WHAT.

like cait.. that was CRUEL. you left that poor girl SOBBING. ALONE. after u promised her u would never change…

IM SOBBING .

😰😰

[kawasiki-jo]

So like.... Oops-

[matcheadz]

Alexa, give me lesbians on the opposite side of the political spectrum.

[rookiewritersho]

Arcane Season 2 finale got me like:

[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.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 9: Easy Come Easy Go

Summary:

So there you were: buried under a thousand tons of heavy rubble after the explosion in the Cannery. Broken bones, blood everywhere and a broken will that makes itself felt. But that's about to change; with the discovery of a part of the Wizards Corpse, your whole life up to now is turned upside down, and with a few difficult decisions and inner complexes, you are reborn. The chapter that changes everything now; heaps of trauma, a new power flowing through your body and an adventure that will soon have you, Vi and Powder crossing paths again.

Notes:

The next chapter! By the way, I haven't even started the second season yet, in case anyone is interested. I'm just getting into the real plot of the series with this chapter, and there's still a lot, lots, of things to come. But I don't want to keep you that long, so have fun reading and leave kudos and comments! wc: 5K

---

What exactly was it that was going through your mind right now, in this moment, in this second?

Buried under so many tons of ceiling pieces just waiting to collapse on you and crush your body like your arm lying under a heavy piece of rubble. The only thing stopping all that debris, like the long piece of wood slowly drilling through your guts, was the thin steel wires of the Enforcer Gadget.

You were truly lucky in misfortune, although the misfortune is more present. Anyone who would see you now, here in the Cannery, buried under countless debris from the ceiling, would probably cry or simply not know which emotion to show on their face first. But who knows; a little boy who didn't know any better and made a brave attempt to prove himself now had to suffer the consequences.

"Remember Y/N, no matter what you do...Everything, and I mean everything, has consequences. You may not notice them at first, but on a deeper level they will always find a way."

You could only scoff because of the words of your real father that were running through your mind. Scoffing was an exaggeration, you open your mouth and the metallic taste makes you taste it, and your eyes see the red substance that is slowly escaping your mouth. You could barely move, even though there is a little space above you, your arm is still crushed under the rubble.

Never in your life did you expect to die like this. You didn't often think about death, after all, it caused you grief to know that everyone you ever cared about would die at some point, but it was important. Basically, everyone dies, you always told yourself, and then you just kept reading some book and stayed calm.

But this slow death was the worst thing ever. Not only were you buried under the countless debris just waiting to fall on you, but also under your own stupidity. Thinking that you could do anything. Thinking that you and Powder could be important one day. To think that there's a reason you were ever born.

Funny, right now you had to think about your real family. The pitying look you always got from your siblings when you started talking about magic. The feeling of being worth less than them, which they always told you and instilled in you.

Sad, the second time you think about it. You're already on the verge of death and you think about the worst moments of your life, but you always thought you'd see the best moments just before you died. There's hardly any air left to breathe, everything hurts, you can hardly see anything and you haven't heard anything for hours.

You were foolish: the action of throwing the Enforcer gadget at Powder's monkey bomb. At that moment you acted on instinct, after hearing what was going on in there you had to do something. But because of you, because of you alone, people were dead and soon you were too. Without you, The Monkey Bomb would never have exploded, Vi wouldn't have ditched Powder and everyone else would probably still be alive.

No matter what I do, it ends in disaster. Why exactly did this always have to happen? Couldn't something go right in your life just once, just once? Why did you always have to be the weak, little boy who had to be looked after? Why couldn't you be strong like Vi or Vander for once?

While you are asking yourself all these questions, watching your life pass you by, you don't even realize it.

Even though the adrenaline has worn off...you can feel your arm again. At first you don't pay any attention, after all you are probably seconds away from brain death.

But then you also feel no more blood in your throat, and that fills your body with energy.

What the?

It was strange, you were just about to die, and now your body gets an energy boost? Are you sure you weren't just dead and imagining it? Maybe this is the real death? Simply without any feeling of not existing again and again.

You try it out of sheer curiosity, like a researcher. It hurts, hardly any light or air and you try to pull your apparently crushed arm out from under the heavy rubble. With a few stitches, pulling on the sides a few times and slightly bending the stone with your other arm, you somehow manage it.

Using simple physics, namely the law of leverage, you pull out your arm, take a look at your Pale Skin and expect that what reaches your eyesight now is a completely bloody, crushed and dead arm.

But your right arm...

Looks brand new.

What's going on here? It was just completely crushed? What the hell is going on here?

The situation couldn't seem more surreal, as good as buried under a pile of heavy rubble, everything about to collapse from the steel wire you can already hear dragging, and your completely crushed arm has just healed itself. It sounded fake as I mentally went through the events, fantasy-like and a bit like...magic.

You take a good look at your arm, turn the inside towards your face and look at the veins. Everything looks fine, you think. It just looked the same as the last time you looked at your arm properly, but there was one thing you noticed the second time you looked over it.

Small scars on the palm of the hand.

You hardly noticed them the first time you looked at them, minimal scars, fading in with the darkness and barely noticeable on the surface when you brush over them. But the scars continue, which you can't believe at first. As if you had cut yourself on sharp wood, the small cuts continue towards your elbow.

WHAT THE?!

Slow, red spots that run from the palm of your hand, i.e. the top of your fingers, through your entire arm and stop at your elbow. You continue to look at the spot as you slowly realize that your heart is starting to beat faster, seemingly trying to breathe a second life into your body.

And then, just when the situation couldn't be funnier, you go through it again mentally:

I activated the monkey bomb using the enforcer gadget, and now I'm buried under all this rubble. When the adrenaline was gone, I could clearly feel my shattered arm? Why does it look like brand new now? And what kind of cuts are those?

Wait a minute...

Right now, right now. Just as you took an extra look at your arm, when a small beam of light passed through a groove in the rubble and hit your eyes for a moment, you could see it:

Another arm has just fallen out of your arm.

And to make matters worse: it's a corpse arm.

WHAT?!

You immediately become agitated, fidgeting like crazy and doing your best to understand the situation without freaking out, although you didn't really have the strength to do so. You here, buried under thousands of pieces of rubble and barely alive, and now some weird dark, fleshy arm coming out of you?

WHA?!

But as you look down at it, slowly choking on your own intestines, you realize something. It's taking a really long time, and normally you were definitely the smartest one in the group. But with hardly any air down here, cramped and wounded legs, blood on almost every part of your body and a mind that could barely cope with it all, it's taking longer, of course.

This is the Arm of the Wizards Corpse.

It was softer than you thought. Your inquisitive fingers poked at the flesh that had eluded your grasp all those days ago; you'd expected it to be crackly like baking paper, but it wasn't. It had the same softness of the wrinkled skin of old people: fragile and thin and delicate.

This is...

Your mind flees the situation; you end up somewhere else mentally, unlike this situation where minutes, seconds ago you were wondering if you were going to die. Although you are here right now, barely room to move, in a reclining position with your back slightly bent, your right arm propped up with your left, yet your mind allows itself to wander elsewhere.

The map.

It's like a cogwheel clicking in your head, slow puzzle pieces coming together to make a logical connection that you hadn't even thought about.

The map of this Jayce Talis, on which the positions of the Corpse Parts are marked. All nine parts of the Wizards Corpse, which are apparently so important that people spend years trying to find them, and even create maps...

And you ended up right in the middle of it.

How the hell did this come about?

The monkey bomb explosion destroyed and killed so much and you magically find yourself a part of the Corpse? Everything you've done since you learned of its existence has led you here.

And now you've paid the price.

Everything had a price. In this world, people count as objects just as much as anything else, you knew that. No matter what you did, would have done, everything had led you right here, buried under tons of rubble and the worst physical condition you've ever had.

You can only feel your whole body twitching a little: a tremor goes through your cramped legs and along your stomach, causing pain. Then it continues along your shoulder, where you feel a reaction especially in your right arm, and ends at your head, where you suddenly no longer feel the sore throat.

I don't want this.

Your eyes, now widened, look down at your right arm. The large cut in the middle, from which the Corpse Arm rushed out, suddenly seemed more like a disease than a blessing. You were just on the verge of death, but now you are suddenly healthy again and with a part of the most important magic object ever, a part of the Wizards Corpse.

You look down and feel along the corpse part. The dark flesh was strangely soft, almost squishy. The individual nails of the part, which look as if they are primary parts, the perfect construction of the flesh and the inner bone structure, which is barely visible...

With that, you look at your right hand, the corpse not being inside.

If you had the strength, you would probably scream. Your right arm was, to your shock, absolutely ruined. Bruised, bloody and bones hanging out. It was as if you'd been banging against a metal plate for hours, which is roughly how you could describe the sight, mashed up and absolutely disgusting.

At your slight shock, the Corpse Arm reenters yours. Slowly sinking in, the Dark Flesh disappears into your Pale Skin, leaving absolutely no trace. But one trace was left: Your 'Crushed' arm quickly reassembles, looking completely normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

The thing healed my arm...by magic?

You could see it, as if your eyes had a thermal vision you could see the little blue streaks along your arm. It looked like an aura, a certain life energy that originally flowed through the Corpse...now flowing through your arm.

The fine stripes stretched across your body and it left a strange feeling on your skin. As if you had goose bumps, but without the shock effect. As if a kind of sixth sense had just been born in you...

Magic.

You stand up a little further, bend your back so that your arm was right next to your stomach and you had a clear view of it. The familiar feeling of your arm, the nerves, was still there. But at the same time there was this other feeling that flowed from your arm through your whole body like energy.

Is that magic? This strange twitching feeling that flows through my body?

What exactly was it that was going through your mind?

A few minutes ago you were down here, completely devastated. Broken ribs, injured intestines, blood everywhere, a completely crushed arm and a broken will. Your mind was a mess, as were your intestines.

And now, the only thing that has improved is your physical condition. Mentally, you're still in a state of shock, for several reasons: What happened to the other people here in the explosion? Powder, Vi? Did your sacrifice make any sense at all?

I don't want this thing.

I want to see the others again.

Tears slowly form in your eyes and you can't stop them. The warm tears run down your rough cheek and drip onto the stone floor beneath you.

"I DON'T WANT THIS THING!" You scream, oh God, how you scream. You desperately try to stand up, only to hit your head against a pair of the debris and stumble to the ground: Without the Enforcer Gadget, you would be dead by now.

You grit your teeth, drop back down and just cry yourself out. You can do absolutely nothing, buried under thousands of tons of rubble, absolutely no strength and no will to go on. A few more times you try to scream, somewhere in the back of your mind the hope that someone will come and save you.

You are behaving childishly... But what should you do?

You are a child.

A child who received no love even from his parents and was seen as an outsider, even at home. A child who preferred to go from the Upper Town to the Lower Town in the hope of not being seen as absolute garbage there. But that's exactly what you were, a small, weak boy who preferred to live in fiction rather than reality.

You are so incredibly close to an emotional breakdown because of so many things. They're buzzing around in your mind, desperately trying to get you to finally give up.

One look down, at your arm, and you have found something that makes you think and distracts you from the thoughts that were threatening to kill you.

Surge

It was text, on the palm of your hand. Small letters that resembled scars, as if someone had carved something on your skin.

"Surge," you read. The Latin felt foggy on your tongue, and you weren't even one hundred percent even sure if it was Latin. But after a few seconds of thinking, you remember something.

These letters look like...

Your eyes catch sight of the shape of the letters in the little light beneath the rubble. It was as if they were composed of several individual shapes, like a mathematical equation that makes no sense without individual components.

Your magic book.

It makes sense, the same signs from your spellbook that were also in the notes of this Jayce Talis have something to do with the Corpse, of course. Now, of course, answer the question "What does it mean?" and maybe something will happen.

You think desperately, your hope of somehow surviving increases with every second that you have already discovered the Corpse Part. It's as if someone has breathed new life into you and whispered in your ear "There's always a way"

What can I do?

What should I do?

This Corpse Part changes absolutely nothing about my situation! It's no good, even if my wounds heal, it won't get me out of here!

Except...

Oh oh, there it was. A thought that will change everything, turn the whole world you've known upside down and show you much more than you ever thought possible.

You think, if you can really use magic, you need to use it wisely now. A spell from your book that gets you out of this wreckage while not overdoing anything to avoid attention.

For a moment, a very short one, you don't think about magic, death or the Corpse. Your thoughts land on the other important things that are worth living for, the reason why you haven't just given up and faced the pain until now.

It was powder and Vi, what else?

You don't waste another second thinking, you go straight to what you were thinking, an ice spell.

I can manage that.

Back then, when you were still with your parents, you always tried it in the garden. You almost giggle when you think about it. Pain all over your body that slowly subsides, hope that returns through the words that pass through your mind...and a determination that is once again unsurpassed.

"O Fearsome snow golem." The words you thought were fantasy before suddenly feel...real.

But you had forgotten one thing that you now had to do differently. As you were always able to draw your magic circle on the floor before, you put your right arm to your mouth and bite off a fingertip. With the blood that is now slowly dripping down, you draw a circle on the floor and the hieroglyphs you have memorized on the floor.

"O Fearsome snow golem. "

It feels as if power is gathering in your body, your aching limbs relax and you concentrate on focusing all your magic on one point: Your right arm.

Before you say the next words, think about everything again:

Your real family that has never blamed you.

Powder and Vi, who were helpless in this explosion.

All the pain and injuries you created by throwing the bomb.

And the last hope in your life: The Wizards Corpse.

"Give me your strength! "

Not a second passes, not even a fraction of a moment, but so much happens at once that your mind takes longer than usual to understand everything. Your body absolutely can't keep up in terms of understanding, but three things seem to have changed about your situation:

Firstly, several blue magic circles suddenly appear in the air. It looks like a perfect description of space, but with an incredible amount of hieroglyphics and small zips that look like electricity.

Secondly, you were no longer buried under tons of rubble. The stones, as you noticed with an upward glance, fly around weightlessly in the air. Below you, the steel wire that had held them up before, now acting like a spider's web.

Thirdly, you were finally able to get out.

You don't waste a second, even if you would like to look at everything for hours. Standing up quickly, against your cramped legs, you run straight out and out of the storm.

Heavy steps, an even heavier conscience, and a freedom you could only have believed in minutes ago. You managed to stand on the brink of death and still live on. Not only that, you just used magic that no one had ever believed in.

There's a huge crash and you turn backwards; all the debris has fallen again, and the Azure Magic seems to have disappeared. A little bit of dust comes towards you, and you have to hold an arm in front of your face. You can almost see it in your mind's eye: You under all the rubble, hunched up and completely devastated.

I was buried in there until just now...

So there you were: now standing in front of the huge pile of debris that was threatening to absolutely crush you. Any one of these single large pieces of rubble could have hit you in a place that would have meant direct death for you, but you survived.

Just as you are about to ponder the whole situation, your mind threatening to break and your will confessing, you see something: out of all the rubble rolls your Enforcer Gadget. The Small Steel Sphere that has already saved you several times and always seems to find its way back to you.

You walk over, with slow and faint steps that all leave a stinging sensation in your lower body, bend down and pick up the gadget. Here it is, in the palm of your right hand with a strange sensation running through your whole arm. But as you turn your hand over, not wanting to look at the object any further, you notice something.

Rotatio

It was text again. It was carved like a scar on the back of your right hand, making you think. The other letters were gone, the new text was longer than before, and seemed to be trying to bridge a new message to you.

When did that happen?

These letters were never there before, I would have noticed them, wouldn't I? Or have they only been there since I've been holding my 'steel ball'?

But the word was closer to your language this time than before, and with a re-reading of the carved letters on your hand, you realized what it meant. Your mind goes through your vocabulary, even though your mind is still Hazy, it quickly finds the one word that might fit:

Rotation.

But why now? I know that the gadget rotates and thus extends the wires? What does the arm of the Corpse have to do with rotation or anything here?

Out of pure instinct, you look around and your eyes adjust to the new view. The Cannery was absolutely destroyed, piles of debris and wrecked machinery everywhere. It looked like the aftermath of a war that had ended in kamikaze action.

You look down at the letters in your hand again. They are still there, but something is wrong, why are they still there?

What is that feeling in my hand?

Your right hand feels like something is happening, but it wasn't familiar, it was something new.

And when you turn your hand over, voilà: Your 'steel ball' spins like crazy in your hand. You haven't even put any pressure on it, but the spinning doesn't stop, and you can already see the weak muscles of your hand being affected by the rotation.

WHAT?!

It was strange, even crazy. Not exerting any force, but there seemed to be a source of energy that fed the rotation and kept it going.

The arm of the Corpse.

It sounds logical, but you shouldn't think about that now, you first have to understand the whole situation here and move on. The destroyed Cannery, Vi and Powder, Vander and the fact that everyone probably thinks you're dead.

You'll have to get used to this at some point anyway, so why not do it now?

It was a smart thought, seriously. You don't have the energy or the head to solve any puzzles or make connections to your New Magic and the rotation in light of the Corpse anyway.

So you leave, with your Steel Ball in hand, a few of the Blue Crystals and your spell book and Jayce Talis' notebook in your coat pockets, and head off.

Slow, experimental steps in the hope of finding something, anything. The thick air outside the rubble floods your lungs and you have regained the feeling of being able to breathe without worry. Long, comfortable breaths physically, and mentally already recounting all the events of the day.

["But the flow of things will always lead to calamity."]

Tears flow from your eyes again. You can't stop thinking about all the sacrifices and consequences of your actions, and it crushes you worse than the rubble could ever have. 

It's all your fault, as always. If you hadn't dropped the monkey bomb, it would never have exploded, Vander and the others would have escaped and Powder wouldn't be alone now. But you were determined to prove yourself for once, just like her. And what do you both get out of it now? Absolutely nothing except psychological problems.

You don't get far, after just a few minutes of wandering around the paths of the Cannery you find something. Your eyes don't recognize it on the ground at first, but you didn't have enough energy and your mind was somewhere else.

It's Vander's body.

He no longer looked normal: with dramatically increased muscle mass, several feet bigger in height, and purple veins that pop out all over his body.

You don't have time to risk another glance at him, in fear of collapsing completely if you did. But you fall to your knees and simply can't move.

Vander...

You can't stop the tears, neither the soft mumblings that come out of your mouth. Your eyes have already lost the light that slumbered in them before: curiosity died with the conscience that you are responsible for all of this.

The realization sets in again; people have died because of you. Everything here, all the destruction, the dead, the injured, the trauma that others now have and all because of you.

Why didn't I just die?

Thoughts like this fill your mind as you continue to look down at the seemingly lifeless Vander. It feels like you now have a certain choice, either to give everything you have for this moment or to just keep going somehow.

The tears stop for a moment and, by pure chance, you catch sight of the new letters on your right arm.

Serva eum

This changes the sad expression on your face. You become angry, Pure Rage is visible in your face and your posture, but you don't care.

Clenched teeth, slightly narrowed eyes and single drops of sweat flowing down. Your hands tense automatically, letting blood flow through your veins to somehow let out the Pure Frustration. You scream out of your Pure Selle what your Pure Frustration and Rage whispers to you.

"SERVA EUM?! I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS DAMN! DAMMIT! WHY?! WHYYYY!"

"It means 'save him ' ."

You immediately turn your head in an upward direction, where you catch sight of a man. A tall, lanky, and pale man, with a few bandages on his body and a purple scarf covering his chin and neck. At the same time, you notice that the right side of his face looks quite burnt.

Was he also hit by the explosion? Who is that?

"Are you one of those kids who...did all this?" He says, and you only see minimal movements of the cloth. But like his previous statement, it hits you and at the same time shows you that you have to be careful with this guy.

"No I..." Your voice sounds rough, still the voice of a child, but with an undertone that corresponds to many recent events. Maybe you've matured, or maybe you're just more traumatized than you were before. "Was just pulled along by the explosion"

"I see..."

You look away from his face, certain that he is still staring at you. You try to keep your expression as stoic as possible, but it's incredibly difficult in this situation.

"We can still save him."

You immediately open your eyes and stare at the man. When he sees how quickly you have changed your stoic expression, his look softens, and he raises a hand in a beckoning gesture.

"But I should warn you..." With that, your mind switches back on and you don't let your emotions guide you any further. "This path is... dangerous."

Dangerous? What does he mean?

"But from the looks of it..." With that, he looks around at what's left of this mess. "Doesn't seem to be any other way past it."

But then his eyes hit the huge pile of rubble that lay further away. Beneath it was a fine line of blood that was already beginning to dry and turn black. This line ran through a large part of the cannery and stopped... At the little boy sitting in front of him, you.

This boy really survived down here? Did he come out of the rubble up there? How? He must be damn clever. I could use someone like him. But I should be careful...

His gaze analyzes you, your posture, physique, injuries and then your eyes. But now he sees something that seems to have changed: ever since he mentioned that Vander was savable, the light in your eyes was missing.

This boy...is damn dangerous. His Fangs and Determination are Second to none, if I'm not careful his fangs may even reach me.

"Then I'll teach you..." He says after a few seconds, eyes still set on you, slowly sensing a slight nervousness in his voice. "And you'll be something like my apprentice..."

His apprentice? Who is this guy?

The moment was surreal, with Vander's big body in front of you and this man behind it. While your mind understands absolutely nothing, your body simply does what it wants and your conscience grows stronger again, you continue to listen to him.

"My name is Singed, and you are now...The Sorcerer's Apprentice"

On this day, you were born again, not as a human, but as a magician.

---

Notes:

That was...traumatizing. The only somewhat positive thing in this chapter was the ending, which I really picked extra for the progression of the story and series because Vi and Powder finally think Vander is dead. But a pact with Singed? Well, you don't really have a choice. I have to admit that the scenes with the magic were so much fun to write, seriously, way too much. Since the Corpse Parts awaken magic in your body, you can now use it, the pairing with the rotation of your 'Steel Ball' makes you the character with the most potential in the whole story, by far. The next update is coming for the genius story, where we'll finally get to Pure Panic, which I also like! Thanks for reading, feel free to leave kudos and comments!

[kitten-z-kali]

Idk if someone already wrote this or not but hear me outtt: Vampire!Vi x Vampire Hunter!Reader defrtnhbxecrumuwxrbg

[thesubcritical]

"Aren't you concerned I'll give you the slip?" "No."

Art for chapter 2 of my fanfiction The Hound of Noxus — a CaitVi enemies-to-lovers story where Vi was raised by Ambessa, and we kick off in the aftermath of a Noxian takeover of Piltover.

[mrsskepticism]

Historical Cait/Vi Fanfiction set in WW2 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/62171647/chapters/159033685

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV , Part V , Part VI, Part VII , Part VIII

Summary : Your mind is a battlefield, a constant war between thoughts of Vi and the haunting memories of Ellie. Just when you think you’ve shaken one, the other slips in to take its place. And yet, no matter how desperately you try to keep Vi at a distance, she’s always there—like some kind of force refuses to let you walk away.

Warnings/themes : angst, trauma, heartbreak, meantions of death, fluff, kissing , yearning, both Vi and you being assholes to each other

Word count: 5.3k

“Is that really necessary?” you frowned, closing the creaky door behind you. The muffled noise of the bustling bar below faded as you stepped into the cramped room. “We’ve got plenty of customers already. Throwing a whole celebration party seems like a bit much for a shithole like this.” You shot a glance at Revek, catching the faint twitch of his expression. “No offense,” you chuckled, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Revek arched a brow, pulling a cigarette box from his pocket. “God, sometimes it’s painfully obvious you didn’t grow up around here.” He spoke through a low mutter, tapping a cigarette free. “One holiday. Just one. These people—” He lit the cigarette, the flare of the lighter briefly illuminating his rough features. “They’ve been through hell. They deserve a night to forget about it. We all do.”

You rolled your eyes, holding your hand out for the cigarette. “I’m not saying people don’t deserve to celebrate,” you said, taking a deep breath . The cigarette smoke burned your lungs for a moment before you exhaled. “It’s just…” You trailed off, your words evaporating like the smoke in the air. Shaking your head, you handed the cigarette back. “You know what? Nevermind.”

You knew what the problem really was—you didn’t want to dress up, plaster on a fake smile, and toast to something you didn’t feel connected to. But deep down, you also knew why you were here, sticking around Revek. He was there for you when no one else was. The least you could do was return the favor.

“So,” you said after a moment, forcing a smile. “What do we need? Food? Drinks? Decorations?”

Revek’s lips curled into an easy grin as he exhaled another puff of smoke. “Just get a good night’s sleep, wear something that’ll turn a few heads, and get ready to have fun.”

“Whatever you say, big guy,” you smirked, passing the cigarette back. One last exhale, one last cloud of hazy smoke, and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. As you headed for the stairs, you glanced over your shoulder. “Don’t stay up all night, yeah? Try to save some of that cheer for the party.”

His laugh followed you down the creaking stairwell, echoing faintly against the worn walls.

The walk home was short, five minutes through the narrow streets of Zaun, weaving between patches of grime and bursts of chaotic energy. Your apartment wasn’t much—a sagging roof, flaking walls, and windows that hardly held back the bitter winds—but it was cheap. The streets hummed with life, as always. Shouts, laughter, the distant clatter of machinery—it surrounded you, chaos - that somehow soothed. Quiet terrified you. Silence was where thoughts crept in—unbidden and unwelcome. And you’d learned long ago that your thoughts were anything but gentle.

Pausing at your building’s stoop, you glanced back. The bar’s neon sign blinked faintly in the distance, its light spilling into the crowded alleys. Zaun wasn’t kind, but neither were you, and in its rough-edged way, it felt like home. The metal stairs groaned softly under your weight as you climbed toward your apartment. The wind whistled through the gaps in the railing, carrying the smell of oil and smoke from Zaun’s chaotic streets. From this angle, you could see the city glimpse of the city —grimy, alive, a restless pulse of neon lights and shouts echoing into the night. For a brief moment, you paused, gripping the cool rail. Looking down at the messy, relentless energy below, a strange sense of belonging settled over you. Zaun wasn’t for everyone, but for some strange reason, it was for you.

Your apartment greeted you with silence and shadow. The jacket slipped from your fingers, landing carelessly on the floor as your eyes scanned the small room. It wasn’t much—barely enough space to breathe—but it was yours. Your gaze drifted to the fridge. The grumble in your stomach reminded you how little you’d eaten today, though you hadn’t realized it until now.

Crossing to the kitchen area, you pulled open the fridge door. Grabbing some leftovers, you made your way to the couch, balancing the plate on the floor as you shuffled through your small collection of records. Fingers brushed over familiar album covers before settling on one. Placing it on the player, the first crackling notes filled the room, warm and comforting. You sank back onto the couch, letting the music wrap around you. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the thoughts clawing at the edge of your mind. No sooner had you closed your eyes than Vi’s face surfaced, unbidden. Her sharp, determined expression. The hard edge of her voice, the way she filled a room with a rough, commanding presence .

You shook your head, frowning. Why couldn’t you get her out of your head? You barely knew her, and what little interaction you’d had wasn’t exactly pleasant. She was cocky, rude, and dismissive, sparing you little more than a glance whenever she bothered to show up at the bar. Then there were the girls—always someone new, someone eager. Yet Vi never lingered, always on to the next, like nothing and no one mattered to her. She lived with violence and anger simmering under her skin, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. You’d seen it firsthand. Your fingers traced lightly over your right cheek, where she hit you. It hurt. It was an accident , but still hurt.

And yet, here you were. Thinking about her. Letting her stormy eyes and crooked smirk linger in your mind longer than you wanted them to. It made you angry—angry at her, but mostly at yourself, at how effortlessly she occupied a space in your head when you knew she shouldn’t. Rave of unsettling emotions started swirling around , you were desperate to find answer to one question. Why was your mind still lingering towards her?

You tried to brush her off from your head, concentrate on something else as familiar melody swirled in your ears. And before you realized, it was already too late.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“Hey, hey, hey,” her raspy voice whispered, warm and familiar, as arms wrapped tightly around you. Her touch melted into you, grounding you when everything inside felt like it was spinning out of control. “Bad dream?” she added, her lips brushing your cheek with a soft kiss.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to calm yourself “It was mom and Hannah,” you admitted, voice cracking. You glanced up at her, the closeness of her body almost overwhelming in its warmth.

Her expression softened instantly, her green eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. “I’m here,” she murmured, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Wanna talk about it?”

You swallowed hard, throat tightening against the weight of the memory. “My mind…” You paused, gripping her tighter. “It took me back. To the day they died. It was so calm that day. So damn calm, like the world was just waiting to pull the rug out from under me.”

Her fingers moved in soft circles on your shoulder, her exhale measured and comforting. “You have to let it go,” she said quietly. “The guilt…”

A hollow laugh escaped your lips as you looked down. “Easier said than done.” But you smiled faintly, even through the ache.

She shifted slightly, her hand tilting your chin so you’d meet her gaze. Her presence-was like standing in sunlight after a storm. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her eyes, only care. Only her.

Here she was. The only person who could calm your storms. After meeting her, you’d finally begun to understand what people meant when they talked about moving on—not to forget, but to reach for something better. Someone better. She wasn’t just a person; she was your armor, light in the darkness.

“I love you, Ellie,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. You couldn’t look away, and you didn’t want to.A grin spread across her face, her freckles shifting as she laughed softly. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so tender it unraveled something inside you. She pulled back just far enough to whisper, “I love you too,” before claiming your lips again. Her kiss was slow, deliberate, pulling you into her, stealing your pain away piece by piece. You could still feel it—the way her lips felt against yours, the warmth of her body pressing close. No matter how tough she was, when it was just the two of you, she unraveled, revealing a side of herself no one else ever saw.

And it was impossible not to love her for it.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

Not again.

The memories came flooding back, wrapping around you like suffocating chains. You clenched your fists, trying to push them down, to silence the familiar ache, but it was no use. Your gaze darted around the room, landing on the record player. That damned melody still played, winding its way through your ears and dragging the past along with it. Ellie crept into your thoughts once again, as she always did when you least wanted her there.

It wasn’t fair. Not to you, not to the person you were trying to become. But the song stirred something deep within you—an echo of what used to be. Before you realized what you were doing, you’d slammed your plate down on the floor and rushed toward the record player. Your hands shook as you stopped the music with a force that left the silence ringing in your ears. But even that wasn’t enough. The panic had already rooted itself deep inside, clawing at your chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You couldn’t sit still. Not now. Not alone.

Grabbing your jacket from where it had fallen on the floor, you stormed out of the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind you. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed to go somewhere. The stairwell loomed ahead, but your steps were clumsy, your mind far away. The tension in your body made every movement feel strained, disconnected. That was probably why you didn’t see it coming.

Your foot hit something, or someone, and before you knew it, you were tumbling forward, catching yourself just in time with your hands against the concrete floor. The sting of the landing shot through you, but before the annoyance could fully set in, a low groan made you freeze.

You turned quickly, brushing the dirt from your hands. “Seriously?” you snapped, frustration spilling out. “Can’t you fucking pick a better place to pass out, you—” The words stuck in your throat as you finally registered the person sprawled behind you.

Her.

“Vi?”

She looked up at you, her expression a mix of exhaustion and drunken carelessness. Even in this state, she managed to smirk, as if she wasn’t sitting half-conscious on your staircase in the middle of the night.

“Hey there, Y/N,” she drawled, her voice raspy and uneven, her speech slurred.

Shock left you dumbfounded for a moment. Then came the anger. “What the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Are you following me?”

Vi let out a lazy, half-hearted laugh. “Follow you?” She paused to steady herself before smirking again. “Why would I ever follow you?” Her words hit like a slap, but it wasn’t just the insult that got to you. It was the way she said it so casually, dismissively, like you didn’t matter at all.

Your jaw tightened as you glared down at her. “Then what are you doing passed out outside my apartment?”

Vi blinked up at you, the haze in her eyes softening as she finally focused on your face. For a brief second, something warm flickered there, like she was actually glad to see you. “Because I live here,” she mumbled, tilting her head toward the door beneath your flat. Of course. The universe really had it out for you. Of course Vi lived here, right below you, as if some cosmic joke was at play. You cursed inwardly at the revelation. Why would she ever follow you? She didn’t care about you, and deep down, you already knew that.

“Oh,” you muttered, trying to mask the embarrassment seeping into your voice. “I’ve never seen you around.”

Vi gave you a half-shrug, her coordination barely holding together. You squinted at her, taking in the sorry state she was in—the alcohol practically radiated off her. “You look like you need some help,” you said, forcing a smug grin. “You reek, by the way.”

“I could use some help,” she admitted with a groan, extending a hand toward you.

You hesitated before squatting down to grab her hand. As you tried to pull her up, it became apparent just how drunk she really was. She stumbled forward, her weight pressing into yours, so close that your noses almost touched. The proximity made your stomach flip—a mixture of irritation, panic, and something you didn’t want to name.

“You’ve got to help me out here,” you said quickly, your voice sharp to mask the awkward tension.

Vi let out a small chuckle, her trademark smirk appearing as if on instinct. “Sure thing, pretty girl,” she quipped, her words making your face burn even as you rolled your eyes. Steeling yourself, you guided her toward her apartment door, her steps shaky and slow. The entire way, you told yourself you were only helping her because no one else would. Because someone had to. Definitely not because she still managed to pull you into her orbit, whether she deserved to or not.

As you stepped into her apartment, the air shifted. It was exactly how you imagined—dim, cluttered, and steeped in melancholy, bottles scattered like forgotten relics of whatever storm had swept through here. You shut the door behind you.

“Can you walk on your own?” you asked, a bite of judgment in your voice as you glanced at her.

Vi swayed where she stood, attempting a smile but only managing a lopsided smirk. “I can try,” she mumbled, her steps as unsteady as her voice.

“You need to splash some cold water on your face,” you instructed, your tone sharp. “It’ll help.”

She let out a slow exhale, the kind that spoke of exhaustion and annoyance, but she didn’t argue. She dragged herself to the sink in the kitchen. The water hissed as she turned it on, splashing it onto her face, washing away the traces of her drunken haze—or at least trying to. You stood there, watching her, your thoughts spinning like the needle on a broken record. Just minutes ago, you’d been fleeing your own storm, running blindly from the chaos of your thoughts and memories of Ellie that refused to leave you in peace. Then, as if the universe were playing some twisted game with you, you tripped over Vi of all people. The strange coincidence of her living right below you only fueled your frustration.

You told yourself you hated her for it—for the way she managed to replace one chaos in your life with another. But deep down, some part of you was almost grateful. That small, shameful part wanted her here, even like this. Even when she was impossible.

“Pretty girl.” Her drunken words floated back to you, uninvited, pulling at something inside your chest as your eyes darted to her again. You swallowed hard, trying to shake the moment from your mind. Vi finally turned the water off, not bothering to look at you as she walked unsteadily to the sofa and let herself fall onto it. You lingered near the door, torn between leaving her there and doing something—anything—to stop whatever spiral she was in. But walking out now wasn’t an option. It never was, not when someone was unraveling right in front of you. So you took a step closer, and then another. Her silhouette against the dim light felt heavier than it should have, her sorrow filling the room like a storm cloud. You hated how familiar it all felt.

“Feeling any better?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

Vi leaned back against the sofa, her head tilted to the ceiling, eyes barely meeting yours. “Depends on what you’re asking about,” she mumbled, her voice coarse and tired.

“The alcohol,” you said, forcing a weak smile, hoping to crack through the wall she always seemed to throw up. “Though I don’t think splashing water on your face is going to fix…whatever this is.”

It was a small attempt to lighten the mood, but it hit like a brick wall. Vi’s gaze finally locked onto yours. Her makeup was smeared, her usually sharp features softened by exhaustion, but those piercing blue eyes still cut straight through you. For a second, she looked like she might let you in, might say something real. Then, her lips curled, and her voice came out sharp.

“Save all that bullshit for someone else,” she spat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And there it was again. The walls, she didn’t just throw up defenses, she lobbed them like knives. You stared at her, your temper flaring as her words settled into your chest .“You’re such an asshole,” you snapped, stepping closer.

“You’re seriously going to treat me like this after I just dragged your sorry ass off the street?” Your voice rose, laced with frustration you couldn’t hold back anymore. “You were so drunk you couldn’t even stand. I could’ve just left you there, but no—I dragged you inside, and instead of a simple thank you, I get this? God, you’re pathetic, Vi.”

Her expression darkened, her jaw tightening as the words hit their mark. For a moment, she looked like she might fire back, but instead, she leaned forward, her forearms resting on her knees, her hands clasped together. She didn’t speak, but the weight in her gaze was enough to make your chest tighten. The silence stretched on, thick with tension. You were standing so close now, the space between you feeling smaller and smaller with every passing second. Intimidation radiated off her, even slouched and broken like this. Yet, beneath it, there was something else. Something fragile she didn’t want you to see but couldn’t entirely hide. And that infuriated you even more. Because no matter how much she pushed you away, no matter how much she twisted your emotions, part of you couldn’t look away.

Then something shifted in her, as it always seemed to when the silence between you dragged on too long.

“Where were you running off to, anyway?” she asked, her voice softer now, though still carrying that faint edge of amusement. “You looked like a psychopath, sprinting out there like that.” A chuckle slipped past her lips, light but dry, like she was trying to mock you and not quite succeeding. You glanced at her, unable to fully brush off her words. Her tone—teasing as it was—held something else beneath it, something you weren’t ready to face.

“That’s… a long story,” you replied, your voice quiet, the weight of the moment anchoring you. You didn’t even realize you were sitting beside her now, close enough to see the way her messy bangs fell into her face. You sighed, chuckling weakly, “Let’s just say I was running away from my own mind.”

At that, her teasing demeanor softened further. Her gaze lingered on you, the faintest flicker of understanding crossing her face. For a moment, it was like she knew exactly what you meant, even though you hadn’t said a word about the storm of emotions inside you.

“Sounds familiar,” she murmured, her voice dropping lower. She paused, her tongue grazing the corner of her lips before she added, “Did you?”

The abruptness of the question caught you off guard. “Did I what?”

“Get away,” she clarified, tilting her head slightly.

“Well,” you exhaled sharply, aiming for humor to deflect the weight of her question, “it’s hard to run away from anything when your drunk neighbor almost sends you flying down the stairs.”

Her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “You’re welcome.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “You’re the reason the panic attack snapped out of me, you asshole.”

“And I don’t even get a ‘thank you’ for that?” she replied, her voice laced with mock indignation.

“Uh, no. Considering I didn’t get one for dragging you off the sidewalk, I think we’re even,” you said, smirking slightly.

Her laughter was faint but real, and something about the sound eased the tightness in your chest. Yet, as the silence crept back in, the air between you shifted again. It felt raw, vulnerable. Like neither of you could ignore the unspoken weight pressing down on both of you.

“I hate the taste of alcohol,” she said suddenly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I despise it.”

You turned to her, surprised at the admission. She wasn’t looking at you but staring off at some undefined spot in the room, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her pants.

“Every sip reminds me that I shouldn’t be doing it,” she continued, her words slower now. “I know it’s not the way to deal with anything, but…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “But I can’t stop. I have to blur everything, make my head so cloudy that I can’t hear my own thoughts. Because if I don’t…”

You didn’t dare move, afraid of breaking whatever fragile moment had settled around the two of you. Her voice cracked just slightly as she finished, “If I don’t, I’ll go crazy.”

The room was still, but her words hung heavy in the air. You looked at her—really looked at her—and for the first time, you saw past the wall she kept building. Beneath the tough exterior and sharp words was a person held together by scraps and desperation, just like you.

“I get that,” you finally said, your own voice almost a whisper. “That’s why I moved here. That’s why I bury myself in the bar, pulling shifts until my body gives out. Because if I don’t…” You hesitated, your chest tightening at the memories clawing at you. “If I’m left alone with myself for too long, everything just… comes back. All the memories. All the sadness. The guilt, the anger. It all comes at once, and I can’t—”

Your words faltered, the weight of them dragging you down. You let out a shaky breath, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. She was looking at you now, her blue eyes softer, her expression tinged with something close to understanding.

“Yeah,” she muttered, nodding slightly. “I know what you mean.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was heavy but shared. Her proximity was grounding, yet it also stirred something in you, something you didn’t want to name.

Her hand lifted slightly, almost as if she was going to reach out, but then she hesitated, letting it fall back into her lap. Whatever walls had crumbled between you, there was still a gap, one neither of you seemed ready to close. One thing remained the same—she was still a mystery. Even though you felt like you’d peeled back one of her layers tonight, so many others were still hidden beneath the surface. You wanted to change that. Desperation simmered beneath your skin to know more of her, to unravel whatever story made her the way she was. But fear held you back.Opening up to someone else? Letting them see the real you? You weren’t ready. You feared it, even hated the part of yourself that was willing to risk it again. The last time you let someone in, it hadn’t ended well—your mother and sister’s deaths, your brother abandoning you, Ellie disappearing like smoke and taking a piece of your soul with her. Every time, you ended up alone, and the thought of repeating that cycle should have stopped you.

But it didn’t.

“Can I ask you something, Vi?” you said quietly, turning toward her. You hadn’t realized just how close you’d shifted until now, the space between you narrowing to an almost unbearable degree. Her warmth radiated toward you, faint but undeniable.

“Of course,” she replied, her voice surprisingly soft. The sound of it lingered, brushing against your thoughts like a feather.

You hesitated, unsure if you should ask what was on your mind, but the curiosity, the pull, was too strong. “How did you end up… alone?”

She exhaled, the question hitting her harder than you’d anticipated. Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers twitching slightly as if she didn’t know what to do with them.

“It’s a long story,” she murmured, looking up briefly before glancing away again. “I wasn’t always like this,” she continued, her words measured as if each carried a weight she wasn’t sure she could handle. “I had… family. A sister.”

She paused, and you could see her battling with herself, unsure if she wanted to continue. Then she whispered a name: Cait.

The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just a name. It was a memory, a ghost that haunted her, and for a moment, you thought she might choke on the word.

“Cait,” you repeated softly, testing the waters. The name felt heavy on your tongue, and you searched her face for a reaction. “She seems like… a heartbreak,” you ventured cautiously, your voice gentle as you tried to meet her where she was.

Her jaw tightened, and all she did was nod, as if even acknowledging it aloud was too much.

"Well,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been there too.” Your lips trembled slightly as you pushed out a name you hadn’t spoken in years. “Her name was Ellie.”

Saying it felt surreal, like you were resurrecting a ghost you weren’t ready to confront. For so long, you had buried her name deep, locked behind walls you thought would keep you safe. But tonight, those walls seemed to crumble.Vi’s hand brushed against yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, and it caught you off guard. You glanced down, surprised at how soft her fingers were despite everything about her seeming rough. Her fingertips traced yours, and then she intertwined her fingers with yours, so slow and deliberate that it sent chills rushing through your entire body.A simple touch, and yet it felt so different—so good. It had been too long since you’d felt this, a connection that felt both grounding and electrifying all at once. You looked at her, your gaze locking onto hers as she didn’t move, just let her fingers remain tangled with yours. Her eyes softened in a way you hadn’t seen before, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

Without a word, she leaned forward slightly, the space between you closing even more. It felt inevitable, like gravity was pulling you together. You mirrored her movement, hardly breathing as your faces came closer, closer still. Your noses nearly brushed, and her breath warmed your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Then panic hit, sharp and overwhelming.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not again. It was too dangerous. Too much. The fear that consumed you earlier—the fear of opening yourself up, of being broken again—came roaring back to life, pulling you away violently. You jerked back, breaking the moment and standing so quickly you nearly lost your balance. Your hands trembled as you looked around the room, anywhere but at her.

“I… I should go,” you said, the words barely audible as tears burned in your eyes. Your voice cracked, and you cursed yourself for not being stronger. Vi didn’t move. She sat there, her expression unreadable but undeniably laced with sadness. She didn’t try to stop you. She didn’t say a word, and somehow, that made it hurt even more.

You opened the door, every part of you screaming to leave, but something—some force you couldn’t explain—held you there for one last moment.

“Um,” you whispered, not even sure why you were saying it, “Revek’s having a celebration party tomorrow. You should… you should stop by. If you want to.”

It was awkward, ridiculous even, and you hated yourself for offering something so trivial after what had just happened. But the words hung in the air as you finally stepped out, closing the door behind you. By the time you reached your apartment, the tears had already spilled over, cascading down your cheeks as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Whatever had just happened between you and Vi, whatever shift had taken place, it scared you in a way nothing else had in for a long time.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

Author note: Chapter II is out!!! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think, it means world to me when you guys give me feedback and motivates me to do more .