currently planning the three-part mini series for rugby!vi x cheerleader!reader, but if you have any requests for me in the meantime, i'd love to hear it
i'm trying to get an idea who would like to see a rugby!vi x cheerleader!reader OR icehockey!vi x figureskater!reader. let me know what you want to see !
wait i seriously love the way you write. its so beautiful and i think youre so creative .. reading your work feels like taking your bra off after a long day♥️
this has got to be my favourite compliment, thank you anon
i love your aesthetic!!! if i can request something? protective vi x reader? maybe someone is bothering reader in public and vi stands up for her. no violence or anything, just her telling them to back off and taking care of reader. some reassurance maybe? idk i trust your creative process
Headcannon. #3. Protect Me.
Roommate!Vi x Fem!Reader, Vi protects you against unwanted attention.
authors note: thank you anon! sorry for the wait, but i wanted this to be perfect (considering you trust my creative process don't). I took it in a bit of a different direction, so hopefully it's worth it.
warnings: descriptions of anxiety/anxiety attacks, gross men and their unwanted opinions, not proof read!
The Last Drop was buzzing with loud voices and sweaty bodies, an unusual scene, although it was a Saturday night. It wasn’t what you’d expected. Every other night, the booths were full, bartenders wiping down one side of a bench just to dirty it again with missed pours of different spirits, but the voices carried conversations, with deliberate laughs.
But tonight? An unusual crowd had found its way through the streets of Zaun, finding one of the most beloved bars, popular for its decorated hero and owner, and began soaking in the spotlight of their makeshift dance floor.
The music reverberated against the walls, at the demands of the people who found themselves up and around the bar, disrupting those hidden away in booths, just trying to enjoy their time nursing a beer.
You, like many others, were tucked in a corner booth, lips wrapping around the black straw of your gin and tonic, taking small sips to soothe the bubbling pit of nausea settling in your stomach. You felt the gentle back and forth of Vi’s thumb on your wrist, friendly enough to not cross the line, yet still planting a small seed of doubt, readily awaiting its period to bloom.
The thoughts in your head had only become a muddy mess of absolutely nothing a few minutes ago when the rushing bodies of Zaun’s most lower-class citizens had come bumping into you, splashing their drinks here and there, enough for Vi to have that twitch in her brow, telling you how frustrated she really was.
She just wanted this to be a nice night for the two of you, to celebrate you after completing a particularly difficult assignment, (she had heard the words molecular biophysics and biochemistry within the same sentence and automatically assumed that the assignment had in fact, been a bitch to hand in).
What Violet had failed to notice was the way you were beginning to tune out to everything that was being said. She couldn’t blame you, it was almost impossible to hear her own voice over the chanting, dancing and brawls of the newfound crowd.
You could see her lips moving, powder blue eyes taking hold of your own, attempting to trap you, in which case but this would have imprisoned your mind, willing to listen to her voice until the end of time. Instead, your mind was static. The world was becoming too loud for comfort, the stickiness of countless bodies rubbing against your own, despite being shielded by a booth, with blood feeling like it was draining from your head, there was a crushing heat taking its place.
When your skin started losing colour, replacing the pink of your lips with a sickening colour, Vi knew you were checking out.
“Hey, Doll? Are you okay?” It was a dumb question to ask; she knew the answer, even if you were to stare her dead in the face and lie, swear on your heart and soul that you were fine, because honestly, you were not prepared for this.
You tried shaking your head in a desperate attempt not to trigger the swaying of nausea in your stomach, but it was futile. the sweat was beginning to build along your hairline, the warmth of the bar's air only increasing in temperature.
Vi wasted no time in interlacing your fingers with her own, assisting you on getting up on your feet. With broad shoulders and long strides across the floor, she was shielding your body with your own, always looking back behind her to make sure you were still with her, even though she could feel the radiating heat off your hands.
When the back door of the bar was pushed open, you could immediately feel the night robbing you of your heat. The pressure of nausea, the thickness in your throat, and the tears welling up were all subdued, frozen in time along with the frost of Zaun’s winter.
“Are you with me?” Violet asked, her hand brushing the stray pieces of hair framing your face to the side.
Again, you nodded, less fearful of triggering the nauseated bubbles in your stomach. “I just need to sit down, that’s all.”
You softly hit the brick wall of the alleyway, sliding down slowly against the chilled concrete. Your roommate got down carefully beside you, watching gently at how the cool air kissed back the colour in your face, replacing the sickening feel with a slight brisk presence.
She observed how you pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging the perimeter of your legs in an attempt to try to keep some warmth as the night's bitterness fed into your body temperature. Violet couldn’t help putting her hand forward to rest on your kneecap, picking up where she left off with the back and forth swaying of her thumb. She knew it was bordering on being more than friends, yet some part of her wanted to see if one day, your facade would slip and that maybe you would react.
“The crowd-” you started, only getting so far before you chest felt like it was caving in, shallow breaths returning to the surface for just a split moment, before Vi gave a comforting squeeze, looking at you like you were her world, hopes an dreams, but that was something to decipher for another day. “They were all affected.”
Her lips dropped into a frown. She hadn’t wanted to say it or bring it to your attention, watching the glow of fluorescent purple illuminate the Last Drop. It wasn’t something you talked about, preferring to live in a bubble where things were peaceful and safe, almost hiding behind Vi as she protected you from every dark shadow that lingered around the corner.
Violet knew this. She knew that your biggest fear was an apocalypse, and as stupid as it sounds, she never made fun of you for it. Especially not when the distribution of shimmer began. In some ways, the epidemic of the drug infiltrating Zaun was equivalent to the dead roaming the land. Losing themself at the first taste, becoming something more than they ever should have.
“We don’t have to stay,” It’s soft, something you just catch. But just for a second, you wanted to stay within the two walls of the alleyway, not minding the smell of rubble, as long as you had the girl that you loved appreciated next to you.
Violet almost jumped when she felt your head rest against her shoulder, taking that as a can we just stay here, in this moment, together? Or maybe dreaming, that’s what was whirlling around in that pretty head of yours.
Letting you stay perched up against her, she let her eyes flutter shut, just listening to the way your breathing was becoming spaced out at a more regular pace. It had always calmed her in some strange way, just knowing that you were there, even if you were as sweet as sugar; you scared all her monsters away.
However, her utter concentration on the slow puffs of air you breathed out had distracted her from the fact that a lone man had stumbled into the confinements of the two walls you considered as yours.
The low whistle snapped you both from the illusion of your own world.
“Nice legs, gorgeous.” his voice dripped with paralysing venom.
Vi immediately got up. She towered with her shoulders pulled back, slowly flexing her bandaged hands. You were waiting to get back home to help her wrap her knuckles with fresh bandages to rid the bloodiness of the old ones.
“Do we have a problem?” Her voice is scarily stable, merely she commenting on his words.
And, of course, when your head had raised to look at the man who stood only a few feet away, you were cursed by his eyes, watching how each movement of his head was followed with a blur of purple.
You were scared. Not only of the man, but of what Vi would do. What she could handle and what she thought she could handle were two very different things.
“I was just complimenting her.” He smirked. “Just take the compliment, sweetheart.”
Her fists clenched again, watching the muscles of her arms strain against her shirt, tauting up into power you were only used to seeing while she was in the pit.
“Violet.”
“You want to say that again?” Her voice wavers, cracking under the pressure of her irritation. Yet, it’s nothing short of intimidating.
“C’mon, why don’t you share that fine piece of ass around.”
Your desire to stay cowering down in some form of defeat was gnawing at your gut, however, your heart was telling you to not let this eventuate into something that could injure Vi. She of course, was insanely strong, but she had only ever fought against those who avoided the substance, or even if she had picked a fight with one of them, Vi had the technology that one of Piltover’s finest had gifted her. This was entirely out of her league.
"Violet."
Standing up on two shaky legs, you slip your hand into Vi’s. Intertwining your fingers with hers as best you could, as a silent depiction that whatever masculine energy he thought he was alluding, was not welcome.
The mans face scrunches up, watching as Vi’s eyebrows soften, firmly squeezing onto the hand in her own.
Mercifully, whatever god above had protected you. You could see the glow of his eyes roll, highlighting the scowl on his face better than the shitty street lights that flickered as one of the undercities latest shimmer addicts disappeared into the loneliness of the night.
Violet turned to you, a softness replacing the ferocity of her blue eyes.
You couldn’t help but slip your hand against her cheek, cradling it as she hesitantly leaned into it, appreciating how the warmth of your palm contrasted with the ice of her skin.
“I’m sorry.” She murmured.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Vi.”
Violet closes her eyes, allowing her arms to wrap around you, hoping that her embrace was enough to tell you everything that was rushing through her mind.
Her lips press to your head, offering a promise within a whisper. "You are nothing like what they say. You're my perfect, doll."
i'm trying to get an idea who would like to see a rugby!vi x cheerleader!reader OR icehockey!vi x figureskater!reader. let me know what you want to see !
summary ✩ you found it hard to believe that it could actually be this hard finding a roommate. when you take up your boss’s offer and end up letting his daughter move in, you find it even harder believe that a match could be this perfect.
warnings ✩ 5.3k ✩ swearing and drinking but that’s pretty much it for this chapter. also one little innuendo towards the end.
notes ✩ so this one is around 5k words but i haven't decided yet if i wanna leave the rest of the chapters around this length or if they'd be better longer. definitely let me know what you're feeling about the length !! <3
The Last Drop hummed with its usual late-night energy, laughter and low conversations falling over the clink of glasses and the occasional small argument among friends. You wiped down the counter, only half listening to a group of regulars argue over a card game while keeping an eye on the random drunkard who always underestimated his tolerance.
“I don’t need to slow down, I can handle my alcohol — I’m a grown man alright? Back off!”
Vander leaned against the bar beside you, arms crossed, surveying the crowd like a guard dog. His presence was grounding and authoritative. The kind that made people behave without him ever having to say much.
“You look tired,” he noted, his voice carrying over the noise.
You exhaled, pressing your hands against the cool surface of the bar. “Yeah, I’ve been dealing with a headache of a situation. Trying to find a decent roommate is way harder than I thought it’d be. Way harder. The last guy that sent in an application actually asked if he could have a pet puma, for ‘future references’.”
Vander raised a brow. “Sounds… rough to say the least. You put up a flyer?”
You gestured toward the message board near the entrance. “Couple days ago. I’ve had some applications, but nothing promising. Another guy asked if he could keep his pet tortoise in the bathtub.”
Vander let out a deep chuckle. “That’s a new one.”
“Yeah, so unless you know someone who won’t bring in a wild animal or hog my bathroom, I think I’m out of luck.”
Vander tilted his head slightly, considering something.
“Actually… I do know someone.”
You glanced at him, intrigued.
“Vi.”
You hesitated. The name was familiar. You’d heard plenty about her from Vander and Powder, seen quick glimpses of her on Vander’s lockscreen or when Powder was excitedly showing off pictures. And yet, despite how often she supposedly came to the Last Drop, you’d never actually run into her. Just bad timing, you guessed.
“Your… daughter?”
“Yeah. She’s looking for a place closer to campus,” Vander continued, reaching for a clean glass and absentmindedly polishing it. “She’s responsible, keeps to herself most of the time. She can be a bit of trouble sometimes but I promise she’s got a good heart. Knows how to throw a punch if you ever need backup.”
You furrow your brows in confusion. “Why would I need backup?”
Vander gives you a raised brow in return. In a place like Zaun, that was a rhetorical question.
You mulled it over. Vi was somewhat of a mystery to you, but if Vander recommended her, that meant something. Plus, finding a roommate was proving to be a nightmare. At this point, you’d take a mystery over a guy who collects wild animals.
“I’ll think about it,” you finally said, tossing the rag over your shoulder. “but it sounds promising.”
Vander smirked. “I’ll let her know.”
And with that, the conversation shifted, but something told you your search for a roommate might be over sooner than you thought.
The steady hum of the city outside your window was almost comforting, a distant reminder that the world kept moving even as you buried yourself in coursework. You sat at your desk, fingers hovering over your keyboard, eyes blurring slightly from staring at the same paragraph for too long.
With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, rolling out the tension in your shoulders. Just as you were about to force yourself to focus, your phone buzzed beside you.
A new email.
You grabbed your phone and squinted at the screen.
Subject: Roommate Application – Vi
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. That was fast. You hadn’t expected Vi to actually apply so soon — hell, you weren’t even sure she’d be interested. But Vander must have mentioned it to her right away. You couldn’t help but wonder if he talked you up the way he did her.
Curious, you opened the email.
The application itself was pretty straightforward.
Name: Violet. Preferred Name: Vi. Occupation: Student. Side gigs: Boxing instructor, part-time fighter. Hobbies: Same as my side gigs.
You huffed a quiet laugh. At least she was honest.
Scrolling further, you skimmed through the standard details; her budget, preferred move-in date, and emergency contact which, unsurprisingly, was Vander. But what really caught your attention was the attached photo.
It wasn’t anything posed, just a casual shot, probably something Powder had taken. Vi sat at a gym bench, hands wrapped, sweaty and mid-laugh, her pink hair a little messy. Even through the screen, there was an energy to her, something sharp but effortless.
You sat back, tapping your fingers against your desk.
So, this was Vi.
Technically, you’d seen her before, but this was the first time you were really looking at her. And now, she might be your new roommate.
“Well,” you muttered to yourself, “could be worse, I guess.”
You were just about to close the email when something at the bottom caught your eye.
Socials: @ CherrybombVi
Your eyes flickered back to your assignment, then back to the email. You hesitated, then scoffed at yourself. It wasn’t even a question, you were obviously going to look. If she included it, that meant she didn’t care if you saw. And honestly? You needed to know what kind of person you’d be living with.
Tapping the link, you landed on her Instagram profile. The username fit, CherrybombVi. Bold, confident, and straight to the point. Her bio was just as simple: 🥊
Most of her posts were fight clips, training footage, or gym shots, but even those had an effortless appeal. One video showed her in the ring, body fluid and sharp as she dodged a punch before delivering a brutal counter. Some seemed to be borderline thirst traps but something tells you it isn’t even intentional - she just looks like that.
Then there were the more casual posts; Vi leaning against the ropes, smirking at the camera, a candid of her laughing with Powder, a rare mirror selfie that showed off her tattoos, muscles, and sweat-slicked skin in a way that had your brain misfiring.
Your face felt hot.
This was your potential new roommate? You had only ever caught glimpses of her in photos before, never enough to form a real impression, and yet somehow you hadn’t expected… this. Before you could spiral too much, your finger moved on autopilot and hit Follow.
You set your phone down, exhaling sharply, only for it to buzz almost immediately.
New DM from CherrybombVi.
Your stomach flipped as you opened the message.
CherrybombVi
so ur the one vander’s been hyping up?
Your breath hitched slightly. She followed you back that fast? Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you tried to come up with a response that didn’t make you sound completely unhinged.
You
depends
what exactly has he been saying?
A typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
CherrybombVi
that ur looking for a roommate
that ur not an asshole
and that u can make a decent drink
You huffed a quiet laugh.
You
i mean yeah
he’s not wrong
CherrybombVi
cool
so when do we meet?
Your stomach did another stupid little flip.
You
how’s tomorrow?
CherrybombVi
works for me
Last Drop?
You
figured you’d say that
CherrybombVi
best place in town.
vander pays me to say that
You
does he?
CherrybombVi
nah, but he should
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself.
You
alright, Last Drop tomorrow.
we’ll talk, see if this’ll work
CherrybombVi
sounds good
hope ur not easily scared off ;)
You bit your lip.
You
guess we’ll see.
As soon as you hit send, you set your phone down again and let your head fall back against the chair. Why did that make your heart race?
The Last Drop was busy tonight, the usual crowd packed into their favorite corners, drinks in hand, conversations rolling over the music playing from the old speakers overhead. You were behind the bar, moving on autopilot as you poured drinks and exchanged easy banter with the regulars.
Despite keeping yourself busy, there was a part of you that kept one eye on the door. You weren’t nervous exactly, just… anticipating. When the door finally swung open and she walked in, you knew immediately.
Even without the pink hair, Vi carried herself in a way that made her stand out. She was relaxed but sure-footed, like she belonged in every room she stepped into. She was dressed casually, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.
Your stomach did something weird.
Vander, who had been stacking glasses nearby, glanced up and grinned. “Right on time.”
You barely had time to react before he clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Go on, take a break. I got the bar.”
You blinked. “You sure? It’s busy.”
“I’ve handled worse,” Vander said easily, already moving to take your spot. “Vi’s here to see you. Go talk.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. After drying your hands on a towel, you stepped out from behind the bar and made your way over to where Vi had already claimed a booth near the back.
Up close, she was... yeah. The photos hadn’t lied. Sharp jawline, freckled skin, toned arms resting on the table as she leaned back in her seat like she had all the time in the world.
“Hey,” she greeted, smirking just slightly. “Guess you’re real after all.”
You raised an eyebrow as you slid into the seat across from her. “Did you think I was fake?”
“Wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing I’ve seen on the internet,” she said, shrugging.
You snorted, shaking your head. “Fair enough.”
Vi leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the table. “So. Roommates.”
“Roommates,” you echoed, feeling a little caught off guard by how direct she was. Not in a bad way, just… unexpected.
Vi tilted her head. “I’ll be real with you. I don’t make a mess, I always cover my share of the rent, and I don’t bring random women over. Schedule-wise, I’m out a lot for training and classes, but I’m usually home at night. I crash early when I can.”
That last part caught your attention. Not because it was weird, just that Vander made it sound like she was always busy.
“You sleep early?” you asked, more curious than anything.
Vi nodded easily. “Not super early. At a regular time, really. I get up early for workouts often. Kinda have to if I don’t wanna get my ass handed to me.” That made sense. If she was constantly training, she’d need the rest.
You nodded. “Vander did say you keep busy.”
Vi smirked. “That’s one way to put it.”
You leaned back in your seat, studying her. She was easy to talk to, even with how little you actually knew about her. It made the whole thing feel… simple. Like this might actually work.
“What about you?” Vi asked, tipping her head toward you. “Vander said you’re not an asshole, but that’s a pretty low bar.”
You huffed a laugh. “I’m clean, I don’t throw parties, and I pay on time. Only real downside is I have early mornings sometimes, so if you’re planning on sneaking in at sunrise, try not to slam the door.”
Vi grinned. “Deal.”
You looked at her for a moment, then exhaled. “This might actually work.”
Vi smirked. “Guess we’ll find out.”
And just like that, it was decided.
You and Vi shook on it, sealing the deal with a firm grip. Her handshake was just what you expected: strong, confident, and steady.
"Guess that makes it official," Vi said, smirking as she leaned back in her seat.
"Looks like it," you replied, mirroring her expression.
By the time your break was over, you had worked out the details; rent, move-in date, all the necessary logistics. Vi would be moving in the following week, giving you time to clear the spare room and make space for her things.
That night, you wasted no time. As soon as you got home, you started rearranging—cleaning out the closet, dusting off the shelves, and making sure everything was ready. You even sent her a quick message:
You
room’s all set whenever ur ready
Vi’s reply came fast.
CherrybombVi
damn ur quick
i’ll be there next week
You stared at the message a little longer than necessary before shaking your head and setting your phone down. This could be good. It'll be nice sharing the burden of rent and livening up the quiet apartment a bit.
The knock at your door was solid, deliberate. You took a steadying breath before opening it, and there she was, duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a couple of boxes stacked neatly at her feet.
"Hey, roomie," Vi greeted, smirking slightly.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted at the casual way she said that. "Hey. You, uh… you travel light."
Vi glanced at her stuff and shrugged. "Don’t need much."
You nodded, stepping aside so she could come in. As Vi walked past, you could feel the presence she carried, like she was used to taking up space without trying.
Clearing your throat, you motioned down the hall. "Your room’s this way." Vi followed as you led her to the spare bedroom, pushing open the door to reveal the space you had cleared for her.
"It’s not much, but, uh…" You shifted slightly, tucking your hands into your pockets. "You can do whatever you want with it. Move stuff around, redecorate, it doesn’t really matter to me."
Vi stepped inside, scanning the room with a thoughtful nod. "Yeah, this works. Thanks."
You exhaled, relieved that she seemed satisfied. "Cool." For a beat, neither of you said anything. Then, remembering something, you added, "Oh, uh, Powder wants to come over for dinner later. Hope that’s okay."
Vi turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "Powder?"
You nodded. "Yeah, she, um, she said she wants to throw you a welcome dinner where 'I do all the cooking and her presence is enough' or whatever it was she said."
Vi studied you for a moment, arms loosely crossed over her chest. "You and Powder are close?"
You hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. We met a couple of years ago in an art class."
Vi’s brows lifted slightly in surprise. "She never mentioned that."
You smiled a little. "She probably doesn’t think it’s a big deal. She sat next to me the first day, and we just kinda clicked. She’s the one who told me about the job at the Last Drop, actually. Said Vander needed someone and that I should give it a shot."
Vi huffed a quiet laugh. "Figures. She always did like pulling people into her world."
You nodded, shifting on your feet. "So… dinner?"
Vi smirked. "Yeah, alright. Could be nice."
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "Cool. I’ll start dinner in a little while."
Vi gave you a long look, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she nodded. "Sounds like a plan, cupcake."
You tried not to think too hard about how that word made your heart do something weird.
The kitchen was warm, filled with the rich scent of garlic, tomatoes, and seared chicken as you finished up dinner. You’d gone with something comforting; pasta, creamy and packed with flavor, with garlic bread crisping up in the oven.
Powder arrived first, waltzing in like she lived there. "Damn, something smells amazing."
Vi followed behind, empty boxes in tow from her unpacking earlier. "Wait—you actually cooked?"
You glanced over your shoulder, stirring the sauce. "What, did you think I was bluffing?"
Vi smirked. "No, I just figured I was gonna be living off instant noodles and bar food."
"You still might, jury's not out yet," you teased. Powder snickered as she stole a piece of garlic bread straight off the pan.
Once everything was plated, the three of you gathered around the small dining table, Powder practically vibrating with excitement as she took her first bite.
"Okay, what the hell," she mumbled through a mouthful. "You made this? Like, from scratch?"
"That’s usually how cooking works, Pow." Vi grins, watching as you tease her sister in a similar fashion to the way she does.
Vi took a bite, pausing for a second before nodding approvingly. "Alright, yeah. I’m impressed."
You smirked as you grabbed the bottle of wine you’d set aside for you and Vi, pouring a glass for each of you. Powder gave you both a pointed look, crossing her arms.
"I feel like I’m missing out," she said.
"You are," Vi said, taking a sip.
Powder huffed dramatically before refocusing on her food.
The conversation flowed easily after that, mostly Powder bouncing between ridiculous stories from their childhood and Vi occasionally cutting in to correct the details.
"And then she—" Powder pointed at Vi with her fork, "—convinced Mylo that licking a frozen pipe wouldn’t actually make his tongue stick."
Vi grinned, unbothered. "To be fair, I thought he’d be fine."
"He had to drink hot water through a straw for a week!"
"Okay, but I was the one who got yelled at, so really, haven’t I suffered enough?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Sounds like you two were menaces."
"We were," Vi confirmed, smirking. "What about you? Chaotic too?"
You shook your head. "Not really. I was pretty quiet. Spent most of my time drawing, painting, reading, or writing."
Vi tilted her head. "Writing, huh? What kind of stuff?"
"Just little things," you said, suddenly self-conscious. "Short stories and stuff—whatever came to mind."
Vi nodded, looking genuinely interested. "That’s cool. And what do you read?"
"Mystery, horror, romance – stuff like that."
Vi’s brows lifted. "That’s a mix."
You smirked. "I like a little balance."
"So you’ll read about a guy getting murdered in one book and then flip to people making out in the next?"
"Pretty much."
Vi huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, yeah. You’re an interesting one."
The night stretched on like that — easy conversation, laughter, and shared stories over empty plates. By the time you realized how late it had gotten, the food was long gone, Powder was curled up on the couch half-asleep, and the wine bottle between you and Vi was completely empty.
Vi stretched, rolling her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair. "Alright, now it feels official. I’m moved in."
You exhaled, smiling. "Yeah. Guess so."
She glanced at you, something unreadable in her expression before she smirked. "Not bad, roomie."
"Not bad yourself," you said, and for the first time since you’d started looking for a roommate, you actually felt relieved.
Maybe this was going to work out after all.
The night wound down slowly, the energy in the apartment settling into something quieter, warmer. Powder stretched out with a yawn, rubbing at her eyes before glancing at her phone.
"Alright, Ekko’s on his way to pick me up," she announced, pushing herself up from the couch.
Vi smirked. "Finally getting rid of you? Thought we’d have to drag you out."
Powder scoffed. "Please, I’m leaving before you two start acting all old and responsible." She turned to you. "You better keep her in check."
You let out a soft laugh, the wine making everything feel pleasantly hazy. "I’ll do my best."
Powder slung her bag over her shoulder, then pointed at Vi. "Don’t scare off your new roommate yet."
Vi rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
The night had settled into a comfortable quiet after Powder left, leaving just you and Vi in the kitchen as you worked together to clean up. The occasional clatter of dishes and the sound of running water filled the space, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to finish.
Vi leaned casually against the counter, drying off the last plate as she watched you with an amused smirk. "Gotta say, didn’t expect my new roommate to be such a responsible drunk."
You huffed a laugh, placing the last dish in the drying rack. "Yeah, well… unfortunately, I have class pretty damn early tomorrow, so I should head to sleep. Hopefully, I can sleep off this wine."
Vi pushed off the counter, stepping into your space just enough to make you notice. "Shame. You’re kinda fun when you’re a little tipsy."
Your stomach did a weird little flip at that. "Oh, so I’m not fun when I’m sober?"
Vi smirked, tilting her head like she was sizing you up. "Didn’t say that. Just means I’ll have to stick around to find out."
You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was. The buzz from the wine definitely wasn’t helping.
Vi’s smirk deepened like she could tell. "You should drink plenty of water before bed. Wouldn’t want you waking up miserable."
You cleared your throat, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. "Yeah. Good idea."
Vi stepped back, giving you an easy grin. "Goodnight, then."
You hesitated for a second before nodding. "Goodnight, Vi."
And with that, you slipped into your room, shutting the door behind you. You were so in trouble.
Sure enough, you wake up at six with a pounding headache and the overwhelming regret of past decisions. The wine from last night lingers unpleasantly, a dull throb at your temples that makes you groan as you drag yourself out of bed.
You quickly pop some Tylenol and chug a glass of water, wincing at the way your stomach protests. The apartment is quiet. Vi’s still asleep, and you do your best to move through the space as quietly as possible, getting ready with slow, deliberate motions.
By the time you step out the door, the worst of the headache has dulled, but you’re still exhausted. And with your schedule ahead of you, you don’t have time to recover.
Mondays are always brutal. Between the early morning classes, tutoring sessions, and art class, you barely have a second to breathe. The hangover becomes background noise, something you push through as you move from one thing to the next. By the time you finally head home, you feel like you’re running on fumes.
When you step into the apartment, Vi is in the living room, dropping effortlessly into a set of push-ups. She looks up as you shut the door behind you, barely even out of breath.
"Damn," she grins. "You just getting home? Thought you might’ve died out there."
You groan, dropping your bag by the door. "Yeah, my Mondays are usually packed. It’s when I have my earliest classes as well as my art class. On top of that, of course, I had tutoring scheduled for this afternoon. I’m beat."
You rub your hands over your face, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in your bones.
Vi pushes herself up to sit back on her heels, resting her forearms on her knees. "Sounds like a lot."
"You have no idea," you mumble, kicking off your shoes.
She watches you for a second, then smirks. "You survive the hangover at least?"
"Barely," you mutter. "Didn’t really have time to deal with it."
Vi chuckles, shaking her head. "Damn. And here I was thinking I was the overachiever."
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small, tired smile that creeps onto your lips.
Vi stands up from the floor, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She’s dressed in just a sports bra and a pair of sweats, her toned muscles catching the dim afternoon light.
"You look beat," she remarks, stepping closer, her gaze flicking over you like she’s assessing just how exhausted you really are.
You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your temples. "Long day."
"Yeah, no kidding." Vi tilts her head. "Why don’t you sit down for a bit? I’ll make you some tea or coffee — whichever gets you back to life."
She steps closer still, reaching out to touch your arm. It’s just a light, fleeting thing, but it’s enough to make you pause. "Seriously," she says, her voice softer now, edged with something almost… considerate. "You should take it easy tonight."
You exhale slowly, your body already sinking into the pull of exhaustion. "Some tea sounds nice… thanks, Vi."
She just nods and heads to the kitchen. You collapse onto the couch, your limbs aching as you listen to the quiet, rhythmic sounds of her moving around. Soon enough, she’s pressing a warm mug into your hands before settling beside you. The tea is perfect — soothing, the heat seeping into your fingers as you take slow sips.
Vi doesn’t rush you. She just sits there, the hum of the television filling the silence as you drink. Her presence is steady, grounding in a way you wouldn’t have expected.
Once you set the empty mug down, Vi stretches, then stands, shaking her head with a smirk. "Alright, time for you to crash."
You groan but make no move to get up. "I should probably—"
"Not push yourself until you pass out on the couch?" Vi interrupts, nudging your arm. "Yeah. Let’s not do that."
You sigh, dragging yourself upright. "Fine, fine. You win."
"Damn right I do," she quips, watching as you shuffle toward your room. "Drink more water before you knock out."
You mumble something unintelligible as you push open the door, already peeling off your clothes in favor of pajamas. The second your head hits the pillow, I’m you’re out.
You don’t hear Vi moving around the apartment.
You don’t hear the quiet stretch of tape wrapping around her knuckles, the slight pop of her joints as she shakes out her limbs in preparation.
You don’t hear the door unlatch or the way it clicks shut behind her as she slips out into the night, her steps light and deliberate, leading her toward the only place that gets her heart pounding the way she craves.
The underground pit calls to her, as it always does. The roar of a nameless crowd, the thrill of a fight that doesn't come with rules or restraints. It’s a part of her she refuses to let go of.
By the time you wake up the next morning, groggy and still half-buried in sleep, Vi’s already at the kitchen table, scrolling through her phone like it’s just another normal day.
She looks the same. Same easy smirk when she glances up at you, same casual posture.
But when you step closer, you notice the fresh bruises on her knuckles, the faint swell of her lip. Injuries that definitely weren’t there yesterday.
And yet, she doesn’t say a word about them. And, for some reason, you don’t ask.
After about a month of living together you pick up on Vi’s… personality. She’s a flirt through and through and honestly? A fucking menace. Guess you see where Powder gets it from.
You’re trying to read. Really, you are. But in your defense, it’s incredibly difficult when Vi has decided that the living room is her personal gym and you have a front-row seat to the show.
She’s in the middle of her workout, wearing nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants that hang low on her hips. Her abs flex with every movement, her arms tense and defined as she pushes through another set of sit-ups. She’s completely in the zone, brow furrowed in concentration, jaw tight, strands of pink hair falling onto her face.
And you, despite trying your hardest not to, are watching.
It’s not your fault. Vi is just… really fucking distracting. It’s an effortless kind of attractive. Like she isn’t even trying, like she has no idea how good she looks. But she has to know, right? There’s no way she doesn’t know.
You drag your eyes back down to your book, determined to focus. It works for all of ten seconds before Vi shifts into a plank position, muscles taut, posture flawless.
Shit.
You must be staring harder than you thought because, without even looking at you, Vi smirks.
“See something you like?”
Your entire body tenses up.
“No,” you say immediately, forcing your gaze back to the page in front of you. “I’m reading.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone is full of amusement. “Didn’t realize your book was in my direction.”
You clench your jaw, refusing to take the bait. “It’s not.”
She finishes her set, stretching her arms over her head as she sits back.
“Oh, come on,” she teases, rolling out her shoulders. “You’ve been staring for, like, five minutes. I’m flattered, really.”
You huff, sinking further into the couch, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“And you’re a bad liar.” Vi grins, leaning back on her hands. “But hey, it’s fine. I like looking at you too.”
Your brain practically short-circuits. Vi says it so easily, so casually, like she’s not making your stomach do flips. She’s so smug about it. Meanwhile, your stomach does something inconvenient, and you have to force yourself to maintain an expression that doesn’t immediately give you away.
You clear your throat, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. “You’re messing with me.”
She tilts her head, all innocence. “Am I?”
You narrow your eyes at her, but she just smirks. Desperate to change the mood, you pick up the nearest pillow and chuck it at her. She catches it effortlessly, laughing.
“Shut up.”
“No shame in it.” She tosses the pillow back onto the couch before stretching her arms over her head again, arching her back slightly as she groans from the stretch. You force yourself to look away, determined not to give her the satisfaction of catching you again.
But even as you turn back to your book, you can still feel her watching you, like she’s just as entertained by your reaction as she is by the workout itself.
“So,” she starts, casually leaning back on her hands, “since you were so obviously checking me out, what’s the verdict?”
You exhale sharply through your nose. “The verdict?”
“Yeah. On me.” She smirks, flexing her arm like some over-the-top gym bro. “Do I pass inspection?”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “Oh, absolutely. Five stars. Would ogle again.”
Vi laughs, tilting her head as if considering. “Only five?”
You shoot her a flat look. “Vi. I wasn’t checking you out, alright?”
“Come on… I feel like I deserve at least a six.”
You finally set your book aside, leaning forward with a feigned serious expression. “Sorry, but I don’t go higher than five. Gotta keep my ratings fair and unbiased.”
Vi grins, clearly enjoying herself. “Unbiased, huh?” She shifts forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “So if I were, say, a random dude at the gym, you’d still rate me the same?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Well, no, because if you were a random dude at the gym, I wouldn’t be—” You stop short, realizing too late where that sentence is going.
Vi’s smirk widens. “Wouldn’t be what?”
Your face burns. “Nothing.”
“Oh no, that sounded important.” She leans in, elbows on her knees, like she’s trying to coax the answer out of you. “You wouldn’t be… checking me out? So I am your type, hmm? Good to know.”
You groan, pushing your hands against your face. “Oh my god, I hate you.”
Vi chuckles, shifting to sit cross-legged on the mat. “You love me.”
You peek at her through your fingers. “Bold assumption.”
She winks. “I’m a bold girl.”
You shake your head with a dramatic sigh. “I’m moving out.”
Vi gasps in mock horror, pressing a hand to her chest. “No, don’t go! Who else will stare at me while I work out?”
That finally pulls a laugh from you, and Vi grins like she’s just won something.
“Alright, alright,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. “I’ll stop messing with you… for now.” She grabs her water bottle, taking a long sip before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and shooting you a lazy grin. “But hey, next time you wanna watch, you could always just join me.”
You scoff playfully. “In your dreams.”
She throws you a look as she walks past, heading toward the kitchen. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Your heart does something foreign in your chest. You turn back to your book, pretending to read, but the words are still a blur. How are you meant to put up with her if she acts like this?
loveee reading multiple fics by the same author and seeing little nods and references among them like yes! this is a multiverse to me!!!! i giggle and squeal everytime i catch a reference!!!!!!!!
I love, love, LOVE it when I can tell a fic author has integrated their specialized knowledge in a fic. I was reading a fic that at some point included the character going to visit an art therapist, and it's so clear that the author is an art therapist themself, and the details included are just immaculate and I love it. I've previously read about a character doing fencing for no other reason than the author clearly wanting to write a sport they understood. A character being given a hyperfixation on bugs just so the author can infodump themselves.
I eat it up every time, it brings such a smile to my face
Headcanon. #1. Doll.
Roommate!Vi x Fem!Reader, Vi calls you doll for the first time.
authors note: this is a filler for waiting for my first proper one-shot to be published. you should definitely reblog, like, and comment if you tolerate this headcanon xx
The first time Vi had let the name slip, you were sitting pretty in front of your vanity.
With a call from Mel in the early morning, insisting that it was bound for you and the girls to take the city of Piltover and to socialise with someone other than your roommate, you had to agree. With a free Friday night from the Last Drop and no assignments due for a few weeks, you notified your roommate that you would not be home tonight.
Violet, usually carrying herself in a bubble of confidence (and occasional arrogance), had let her façade falter. The way you had told her to not wait up for her and throwing her a wink with the adorable baby pink glitter painted gracefully on your lids reflecting the light, her heart had dropped to the very pits of her stomach.
In a desperate attempt to keep you all to herself, she came up with every excuse in the book.
I think I’m getting sick, You have to stay home and take care of me.
What am I going to do alone?
What if someone breaks in and I don’t have you to save me.
You’d of course laughed at the last one, pinching her cheek and letting Vi know how ridiculous she was being. She huffed in defeat, admitting to herself that she was being obsessive and maybe it was about time that you spend some time apart, as after all, you weren’t hers in the first place.
She took everything you gave her, though. She made herself comfortable on the plush of your bedroom pillows, appreciating her front-row seat to seeing you get dolled up.
You held the curling iron to your head, wrapping a section of hair around it and letting it sit.
“Do you really need to go out tonight?” Vi whined.
“I haven’t seen my friends in a long time, Vi. But after tonight, you can have me for as long as you want.” you giggle at the huff she lets out, feeling like you could get used to this side of your roommate.
Vi chose to stay silent after that, still pouting at your rejection but watching in admiration as you hummed your favourite tunes, swaying as you completed the last section of your hair. God, she swears you could do anything, and it would be the most beautiful thing she would ever see.
When you picked up your makeup brushes and started applying the finishing touches, her heart lurched, not ready to wind in for the night. Alone. In a dark, empty apartment. Yet as you swiped your cheeks with a bubblegum pink blush, Vi’s impending doom of isolation for the night ahead dissipated.
“You look beautiful, Doll.”
You halted your movements, brush still hovering over your cheekbones. From staring at yourself in the vanity to mirror, you glanced at Vi through the mirror.
The hues of the sharp black and red she was wearing contrasted strikingly against the pastel pinks and beiges of your bedspread. But despite that, she looked so soft with the fluffy pillow hugged between her arms, a faint crimson painting her own cheeks as she registered what she said.
“Doll?” You breathed out, questioning if you heard that correctly. Your heart had picked up, thrashing against your chest, and heat coursed through your veins as you looked at her, waiting for her to explain or say anything else that could perhaps make it make sense.
“Yeah, because you are beautiful. And like- your skin is like porcelain. I’m not saying you are fragile! Like, it’s just perfect. You are just perfect.”
God, she wanted to disappear. Could she be any more obvious that she wanted you all to herself, not just tonight, but forever? To hold you in her arms, protect you from the dark shadows that lingered around the corner.
Yet, despite her clumsy sentence, you were endeared. Obsessed with the idea that she saw you as beautiful, just like you had always wanted her to.
If there was one thing for sure, you were not going home with anyone tonight.
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