#arcane fanfic

[slasher-art]

Comms for @archadianskies . 🥰

It's an AU where Viktor gets tattoos and Jayce has his own flower shop. ✨️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61643833/

[arctvros]

“That’s it, petal. Go back to sleep. I’m here. I’ll watch over you.”

The most bittersweet and tender scene from Black Iris by TheTrickyOwl on ao3 🥀

[jellimay]

Let Me Show You the World

outlaw sevika x 50s housewife reader

An outlaw on the run shows a trad wife that there's more to life than starting a family and keeping house

cw: soft dom sev x sub r; age gap(24 and 38); sev is a perv, pet names(dolly, pretty); cheating(reader cheats on husband), oral sex, pussy slapping, sev is needy, reader is naive and sensitive.

wc: 2.6k

part 2

January winds roared unforgivingly, swirling the glistening snowflakes in different directions. They cut at Sevika's frozen cheeks, making her wince. She trudged through the snow wearily, hoping to find shelter from the harsh winter elements.

Life of an outlaw was hard; always looking over your shoulder in case of danger, constantly having to move from one place to another. Sevika was used to it all. This time her itinerary lay through a thick forest and all was going well at first. What she hadn't foreseen, though, was being robbed by a group of wandering bandits and having her trusty horse and pouch of coins stolen. However, it was okay, she's survived worse. The outlaw knew the way to the nearest village, though her limbs were practically giving out, vision blurry, stomach growling incessantly.

Still trudging on, Sevika's eye caught a bright light in the distance. Cautiously moving forward, she saw the outline of a sizable quaint cottage. Did someone live this deep in the woods? Maybe a forester? Some recluse? She could see the house clearly now, it was fenced off, with a barn flanking the main building.

Coming up to the towering fence, Sevika weighed her options. She was certainly in need of shelter for the night as the blizzard was bound to get worse. However, there was no telling the hospitality of the person inside. It had always been a risk to trust strangers like this. Sighing, Sevika rang the brass house bell, alert, eyes zeroed in on the entrance, human hand on her back pocket that held her pocketknife.

After a short pause, the front door opened slightly and a face peeked out. To Sevika's surprise, it wasn't the face of some old hermit, but of a young, anxious-looking woman.

You pushed the door open at last and tentatively walked up to the fence, clutching an oversized coat around your form; eyes squinted because of the snowstorm. You peered up at the outlaw, a hint of surprise and uncertainty in your gaze. "Hello, s-sir. What can I do for you?"

Sevika's mouth curved up involuntarily. You looked no older than twenty-five, with a sweet little face, a wooly scarf around your neck, the coat swallowing you whole. What were you doing out here alone?

Now, this was a pleasant turn of events; it was much easier to pull at a woman's heartstrings. Sevika just hoped the girl lived alone, it would be...more convenient that way. "Hello, young lady. The name's Sevika, sorry if I scared you. You see, I'm just a bit lost and the weather's less than favorable. I was wondering if I could come in until it gets better. Oh, and, by the way, I'm a woman," she chuckled; it wasn't unusual for sheltered pretty things like you to mistake her for a man, since most women didn't dress like Sevika. She donned tight black jeans that disappeared into her winter boots at the bottom. Her worn-out jacket was half-unzipped, giving a glimpse of her black turtleneck, taut at the strain of her muscles. Despite her rather masculine choice of dress, her plump lips were adorned with dark lipstick that complimented her features well.

"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, my name's Y/N. Of course, you can come in, you're freezing," you muttered sweetly, relieved that the stranger was a woman. You lead Sevika to the front door, unlatching it and inviting her in.

_____________

Hanging your coats, the two of you walked into the kitchen. "You look hungry, please sit down, I made some stew for dinner," you smiled as you busied yourself at the counter, plating the stew.

Sevika sat in one of the chairs, leaning back and spreading her legs comfortably. She took in her surroundings. The interior was cozy and homely, although she could see a man's pair of boots at the entrance. "You live with your husband, girl?"

You turned away from the counter for a second, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Yes, but I'm alone today. My husband went away for work to the nearby village. He probably won't be happy I let a stranger in..." you chewed on your lip nervously.

"Your husband keeps you all cooped up in the middle of the woods?" Sevika chuckled, smirking.

"My husband is very n-nice and caring; he knows what's best for me! Besides, it was a mutual decision to live out here," you raised your voice, but it came out shaky and uneven, as if you didn't believe your own words. You put Sevika's plate in front of her with a clang.

Chuckling, Sevika raised her hands in the air. "Sorry, dolly. Didn't mean to anger you. You're a very hospitable girl, thank you," she spoke and began eating the offered stew while you watched her from the counter.

For some inexplicable reason, you felt your face heat up at the nickname. You studied the peculiar stranger curiously; Sevika's dress and mannerisms were like a man's, yet she was undeniably a woman. "Are you traveling alone? Without your husband?"

Sevika barely held herself from laughing out loud. You were so sheltered, so naive. She spread her legs a little more, eyeing you with mirth. "Ain't got no husband. I've always been alone, except for the occasional hookups."

"But you can't have s-sex out of wedlock," you gasped, feeling your face heat up.

This was getting too good. Sevika couldn't believe how innocent you were. If she played this right, she could have a pretty little housewife under her tonight. "That's not how it is in the city, dolly. People are more...uninhibited there. They don't care about rules. We just party, drink and have all the sex out of wedlock we want there."

There was a pause as you gathered your thoughts. It felt like your whole worldview was shattered; you'd never met someone like Sevika before. "But sex is not even that good for them to like it so much..." you muttered to yourself.

Sevika raised an eyebrow in disbelief, the stew long forgotten. "Your husband just doesn't know how to make you feel good, he probably doesn't even care."

You jolted, face scrunched up in anger. You strode up to Sevika's sitting form in an instant. "You don't know my husband! Why do you keep saying mean things about him? He provides for me, he loves me! Of course, he cares about me, he cares..." Tears pricked up in your eyes as you shouted.

"Easy, easy. Not trying to be mean, just worried about you, dolly. Your husband is probably often away, out in the world, doing whatever the hell he wants, while you're cooped up in the middle of the woods," Sevika said softly, not expecting you to be so defensive. Although, it wasn't surprising.

"You aren't worried, you don't know me..." you mumbled in a quieter tone, sniffling. All you'd ever wished for was a loving husband and kids, a family. It was true that James had been distant lately, but it surely wasn't because of your failed attempts at conceiving a child, right? You'd been a stellar housewife, always putting his needs above your own. He surely still loved and appreciated you, even if you couldn't give him a child...

Sevika stood up, towering over your distressed form. She tentatively placed her human hand on your shoulder. "Listen, dolly. Sorry if I'm overstepping. I'm just against all this traditional bullshit," she sighed, patting your shoulder in hope of providing some comfort. She didn't like making pretty things like you cry. She was a gentlewoman, after all.

To Sevika's surprise, you stepped forward and pressed your face into the outlaw's chest, inhaling her woody scent. You were clearly very emotional and needed some reassurance. "I'm just...so lost. I've never met someone like you, you seem so free," you peered up at her with tears in your eyes, pretty face all puffy from crying.

"Shh, don't cry, pretty. You're so young, you've got your whole life ahead of you. So much time to do what you actually like, try new things," Sevika cooed, patting your hair as she struggled to rein in her desires. The sight of this sweet girl pressed up against her, all teary-eyed, was making her pussy twitch. "Mm dolly, you know what, I think I know what you need right now."

Before you could react, Sevika lifted you up effortlessly, placing you on the counter, hands on either side of your hips. She leaned in close. "You're a little curious about me, aren't you, pretty?"

Thoughts of your husband vanished from your head as Sevika leaned in so close. Your heart was beating wildly. It was true, you were curious about the stranger in front of you, even if you tried to suppress those feelings. Why did she make you feel this way? It was all so new to you.

Sevika knew she had to be the one to initiate everything, as it was obvious you were still very confused about your feelings. She leaned in closer, her hot breath on your neck, pressing a light kiss there.

The contact caught you completely off guard; it felt like your body was on fire, goosebumps adorning your skin. You couldn't even look Sevika in the eye, casting your gaze down instead. "W-what are you doing? This is what a husband and wife do in bed..."

It was obvious that, despite your words, you welcomed her touch; you just needed a little push. Sevika cupped your cheek gently, her large hand enveloping your face. "Two women can do it too, dolly. It's normal in the city," she said, trailing her thumb along your plump bottom lip. "I promise, I'm gonna make you feel good. Gonna teach you everything, you ain't gotta worry about a thing. I just need to kiss you now, pretty, okay?" Sevika rambled in an almost desperate tone; your inexperience was driving her crazy.

Unable to speak, thoughts swirling in your head uncontrollably, you just nodded.

Sevika didn't waste a second, crashing her lips against yours, large hands settling on your waist. She pushed her tongue into your mouth, making you whine sweetly into the kiss. God, that whine drove Sevika wild. She hugged you even tighter, her legs parting your thighs as you sat on the counter.

Tentatively putting your delicate hands on Sevika's shoulders, you tried to move your mouth in tandem with hers, but it came out sloppy. After a few minutes, you pulled away to take a breath, reeling from the kiss and panting. You looked down at your parted legs, the dress riding up your thighs. You looked like a common whore, spreading your legs for a stranger...but you didn't care. For the first time in your life, you didn't care.

"You alright, pretty? Can I go further?" Sevika asked softly, a hint of impatience in her voice.

"Please," you whine, "make me feel good, Sevika. You promised to make me feel good."

She didn't need to be told twice. Dropping to her knees on the wooden floor, Sevika looked up at you. Her large hands trailed your soft thighs, lifting your dress. She chuckled as your pristine white panties came into view. "Mm so cute dolly, gonna take them off." Sevika grinned as she hooked her finger under the string and dragged them off your legs, revealing your clean-shaven pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs but she held them open in her grasp, spreading you wider. "Does your husband like you all smooth there? Mm you don't gotta shave for me, pretty."

Before you could reply Sevika's mouth latched on to your clit, she began eating you out like a woman starved. You tasted so sweet; her grasp on your legs grew harder.

You looked down at Sevika's kneeling form, her face buried in your cunt. God, she was just so large, her hands were so strong, she could easily do whatever she wanted to you. You'd never felt so good, you didn't even know sex could feel this good. Your thighs were shaking as you tried to suppress your moans, hand over your mouth.

Noticing your attempts to stay silent, Sevika pulled away, landing a sharp smack right on your pussy. You let out a high-pitched whine, trying to squeeze your plushy thighs together. Sevika didn't let you, of course. "Now this is what I want to hear, don't you dare hide those pretty sounds from me, or I'll stop," she spit sternly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't anymore! Please, don't stop. It feels so good," You begged desperately, tears pricking up your eyes.

"Aww dolly, you look so pretty like this, cry for me some more," Sevika looked up at you in awe, growing desperate. She spread your pussy lips with deft fingers, watching with fascination as your slick dripped down to your ass. "Fuuuck, never had a girl this wet for me. Love this wet sloppy cunt, dolly," she groaned, smacking your clit again. "You like this, dolly? Like getting fucked by an old butch like me?"

Before you could react, she buried her face right back in your cunt, her tongue trailing fast along your lips.

You mewled in pleasure, tugging on her short hair to ground yourself. "Sevika, I feel weird...why do I feel like this? It feels so good," you moaned out.

Sevika pulled away from your pussy for a second, working her fingers on your puffy clit instead. "Dolly, you're about to come. Probably never done that with your idiot husband," she chuckled as she dove back in, pushing you over the edge.

It was the first orgasm in your life, and God, did it feel good. You were panting, totally spent, as Sevika pressed light kisses onto your inner thighs. Her gaze trailed over your perky little tits that were freed as your flimsy dress slipped down in the process. Of course, the older woman didn't want to stop, she could go on for hours. She wanted to absolutely ruin your cute body, but she had to hold back; she knew you were a sensitive little thing. Besides, it was your first time with a woman.

"You good, pretty?" Sevika asked softly, lifting you up bridal style. "Where's your bedroom? Gonna let you rest, you're all worn out."

As you pointed up, too spent to speak, Sevika carried you up the stairs, not breaking a sweat. She opened the bedroom door, carefully laying you down and tucking you in nicely. "Will you lie down with me?" you asked, looking up at her with tired eyes.

"Of course, dolly," Sevika replied, settling beside you on top of the sheets. She wrapped one arm securely around your shoulders, pulling you close. Gosh, you looked so cute like this, your delicate form in her arms, all tired and disheveled. "You can take a nap. I'll keep you warm, don't worry," Sevika murmured, voice low.

Laying in Sevika's arms, you were beginning to come down from your high. Horror set upon your delicate features. You were lying in you and your husband's bed with this woman; James's photo staring at you from the bedside table, amplifying your guilt. You cheated on him, your marriage was ruined, your life was ruined! Tears began to run down your cheeks, you sniffled involuntarily. "What do I do now, Sevika?"

"Shh, dolly. You don't gotta worry about a thing. Is your husband coming back in the morning?" Sevika asked, running her hand through your locks in an attempt to soothe you. She couldn't take it, you looked so scared and pitiful. God, she wanted to keep you so bad.

"No, he won't be back until Monday..."

"We'll figure something out tomorrow then. For now, just get some rest. You haven't done anything wrong, pretty," Sevika whispered softly, pressing a light kiss to your forehead as you drifted off to sleep in her arms.

div credit @bbyg4rlhelps

[tobesolxvely]

IT'S JUST PRETEND

SYNOPSIS: To save face at a get-together, Vi asked her best friend —you— to pretend to be her girlfriend for the weekend. It was harmless, just a performance... but when instincts and unspoken feelings blur the line between what's fake and what's real, things get a lot more complicated.

WORD COUNT: 7.2k+ words. | CONTENT WARNING: omegaverse setting. alpha!vi x omega!reader. fake dating, a bit of a slow burn and friends to lovers. NSFW MINORS DNI. masturbation (vi), oral sex (reader receiving), penetration (reader receives), vi has a girlpenis i guess? omegaverse shenanigans. porn with so much plot. did not wait for this to get proofread since i couldn't wait to put this out here.

note: inspired by prompts #3 and #14 from this post. a bit of a long one shot, sorry! decided to go with omegaverse for my first nsfw os in honor of kinktober •𐃷•

Vi had always thought she was tough; after all, she was an Alpha. Everything about her demanded attention: her bright reddish pink hair, blue eyes that could soften with mischief or harden like steel, a crooked smile that disarmed the brattiest Omega, a powerful scent of worn leather and fresh rain that made heads turn around in every room she walked in —she rarely backed down from anything.

Except her family and friends.

“Are you finally bringing someone to the reunion this year?” Her sister tilted her head as she threw a grape and chuckled once it hit Vi’s forehead, “Or did you already come up with an excuse?”

“Powder…” Vander’s voice was stern, but playful at the same time.

“Uh, I don’t know, guys, I can’t seem to have anything other than one-night stands,” Powder did a poor imitation of her sister’s voice, “I’m a cliché Alpha fuckgirl.”

Vi was about to tell her sister to fuck off, but a wave of nuisance hit her as she noticed her family laughing about the joke. She didn’t bother herself with whatever others thought of her, but as she looked around the living room, she noticed everyone had found their mate. Everyone but her.

Vander wasn’t traditional, he didn’t try and push any societal standards on his daughters, and Vi was thankful for that. But still, the idea that a respectable Alpha should have a mate —or, at the very least, a partner— by now lingered on her head.

And Vi didn’t have any. No mate. No partner. Only many broken hearts she left behind or girls that she could call late at night when she needed to release and relax.

She was happy with the carefree dynamic, until now that a seed of doubt and self-consciousness had been planted. She had independence. She was able to have as many friends as she wanted, some with benefits, and the rest just regular friends. That made her think of you.

That is how she ended up in your apartment on a Wednesday evening under the disguise of just hanging out. Vi was on one end of the couch, heart pounding heavily against her chest, too heavily to simply be for her sister’s nagging.

You were cuddled up on the other end of the couch, laptop balanced over your knees as you bopped your head to the rhythm of the background music that the movie you picked played on TV. Your eyes flickered up and found Vi already looking at you.

“You’re staring,” you mumbled as you looked back down at the small screen and pretended to scroll as you tried to ease your nervousness, “That usually means you want something.”

“Can’t I just look at my friend just because she’s pretty?”

“Ah, a compliment, so you do want something from me.”

Vi wanted to contradict you, but she gave up, “Okay, you know about how my family does a lot of get-togethers at the end of the year, right?”

“Yup, it’s kind of weird but cute.”

“Okay, so, every single reunion everyone is bothering me for not having a mate… Powder, Mylo, Jayce, my aunt Kels,” she rolled her eyes in annoyance, “No Omega, Vi? Are you ever settling down? You should meet my friend’s daughter.”

You giggled at the high-pitched tone, covering your mouth with one hand and shaking your head, “I get it, but I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”

“I can’t go through that. So… I need a shield.”

“Uh-huh,” your eyes narrowed in curiosity, “And that involves me because?”

Vi let out a breath, straightening up. She held her hands together as she leaned forward, staring at the floor. It was a rare sight. The confident Alpha, now uncertain of what she was about to do.

“I need you to come with me. As my plus one.”

“Your plus one,” you repeated, as if to make sure you were listening right, “You mean…”

“Like my girlfriend,” Vi interrupted, looking back at you as she raised her hands to stop the imminent objection on your part, “It’s just pretend! Just for the weekend. You don’t need to be my girlfriend for real, it’s just—”

“Fake dating,” you finished the sentence, managing to keep your tone calm as your heart raced at the proposition.

“Yes!” Vi smiled sheepishly, “Please, you’re the only one who can pull it off. Cait is too frivolous, Kiara is too much into PDA, Evangeline is too obsessive…”

You unconsciously rolled your eyes as Vi kept on giving reasons as to why none of her past —or current— lovers could play the role. A tinge of jealousy creeped into you, and you knew fake dating Vi was not a good idea. Not when you already had the strongest suspicion that you were seeing her as more than a friend.

Her hand held yours and made your train of thought stop abruptly, making your head turn towards her. You almost melted at the way her gaze had softened up, warming your heart. You knew you were in trouble.

“Your sister will know it’s fake,” you tried to argue with logic before she could speak again, “I’ve already met her and her mate.”

“Not if we sell it,” she insisted, “We already spent pretty much every waking hour together, she won’t question it.”

“So, you want me to lie to your whole family,” you deadpanned, your quickened pulse betraying you.

 “Don’t think of it as lying, it’s… performing,” she corrected, grinning as she squeezed your hand, “Please, you’re brilliant, beautiful, charming. They’re gonna love you and leave me alone for a while.”

The compliments sent a flutter through your chest and down to your stomach, but you tried to keep reminding yourself. She just needs help, she doesn’t mean it like that.

You crossed your arms against your chest, freeing yourself from her grab to try and regain control of yourself, “And what does this… performance entail? Hand holding, back hugging, laughing at your awful jokes?”

Vi couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea of fake dating you. She had never crossed the line, not because she didn’t want to have you in between her arms, to kiss your lips, to make you hers every night —but because she didn’t want to risk losing you. She was scared to commit, but she didn’t want to just use you and leave you as she did with many others. So, she sacrificed her instincts and opted to have you as a friend instead.

But maybe this whole experience could end up opening a door for both of you. Vi liked the idea of that.

“Exactly that,” her gaze had sharpened a bit, almost as if testing the territory, “Unless you’re uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? You longed for nothing more than to be as close as possible to Vi. Pretending to be hers, even if it was just this once, seemed dangerous, but thrilling.

You scoffed, biting your lower lip with uneasiness before nodding your head, “Okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me dinner for a whole month.”

Vi grinned triumphantly, holding out her hand for you to shook on it, “Deal.”

As you lay in bed that night, remembering the way Vi’s hand lingered more than necessary, a thought kept running through your head: it was going to be a hell of a weekend.

The thought was unofficially confirmed the rest of the week, as Vi and you kept hanging out but neither of you mentioned the upcoming “performance”. You went to the movies, went out for coffee together, and it wasn’t until Thursday night just as you were walking to your apartment that Vi finally said something.

“Wear something cute and casual tomorrow,” she was looking down at her phone as she spoke, “I’ll send you a pic of whatever I wear, in case you wanna match. You know… to look believable.”

To say you were drooling after she sent you a selfie the next day, would be an exaggeration. But heat was pooling between your legs as you stared at your phone screen.

Vi sent you a close-up picture of her outfit: a white shirt with the top unbuttoned, leaving her cleavage out there for everyone to admire, dark denim jeans that adjusted perfectly to her toned legs, the sleeves of the shirt rolled up to show the tattoos on her arm and how muscly they were. She had taken the selfie from above, and you wondered if she took it intentionally like that so that her breasts would pop up and her parted lips would catch your attention.

You tried to ignore the fire inside you and chose to subtly retaliate. You picked a white square-neck sleeveless top, pairing it with a short black skirt and matching black boots. As you finished doing your hair and makeup, you heard a knock on the door.

You gave a quick look at yourself in the mirror, noticing that your outfit would only have you shivering through the night as the weather was already turning cold. An idea popped into your head, and you ignored the denim jacket that was thrown over your desk as you grabbed your bag and made your way towards the entrance of your apartment.

Before you even opened the door, Vi’s scent overwhelmed you. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy it for a couple of seconds, only snapping out of it as you heard a second knock, more insistent than the first time.

Outside of your apartment, Vi rested against the doorway and cleared her throat as your scent threw her off. She had grown used to it by now, managing to push down her instincts whenever she was around you, but the excitement for this little “project” you two were about to do must have been strong enough to lose that ability.

She straightened up as the door opened and couldn’t help but look at you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs. Her gaze made her way up to your face, although she stopped a couple of seconds to stare at your chest without any discretion.

Her eyes met yours, and she smirked once she noticed the redness on your cheeks.

“Well, damn,” she chuckled lowly, “I am a lucky girl, aren’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, giving a few steps forward and closing the door behind you. Vi noticed your bare arms and furrowed her eyebrows.

“Aren’t you gonna get cold, babe?”

“Uh, bab— What?” you stumbled upon your own words, looking back at her in surprise.

“You’re my girlfriend, so I figured the nickname was necessary,” she made sure to emphasize the word, lifting her hands to caress your arms as if to warm you up, “Wanna go back inside and grab a jacket?”

You cleared your throat, head already spinning from the tension between you and Vi. “Can I just borrow yours?”

Vi’s smirk only deepened at your words, and she chuckled as she walked you towards her car. Once inside, she reached into the back seats, and the movement had her be even closer to you. Before you could enjoy the moment, she turned back around and offered you her leather jacket.

“I was going to ask you to wear something mine anyways,” she winked at you.

Yup, it’s going to be a hell of a weekend, you thought as you put on the jacket, and her scent overwhelmed you.

The ride was quieter than expected, a couple of comments and furtive glances every here and there. You looked as you arrived at The Last Drop, Vi’s family’s business. She had told you about it, but it was the very first time you went there. Especially since Vi’s talks about the place were followed by her latest love conquest.

But now, you were there with her. As her girlfriend. You walked in, immediately astonished by the atmosphere: music was playing in the background, but you were able to listen to the happy chatter of everyone there, lights moving along to the rhythm of the music, people enjoying themselves and having a good time.

“Welcome to Vander’s place,” Vi mumbled with a small grin.

Seeing the way your eyes sparkled as you looked around and the soft smile on your lips made her heart melt. It gave her the courage to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers with hers, giving you a new smile as you looked at her with surprise.

“C’mon, let’s meet my family.”

Powder spotted you two immediately as you made your way towards them and a squeal left her mouth.

“Oh! I knew it would be her!” she giggled happily as she grabbed her mate’s arm and shook it with excitement, “Ekko, I told you!”

He laughed, looking at the young Omega with tenderness, “Yes, baby, you did.”

As you finally approached the family, you couldn’t help but feel awkward at the way everyone was staring at you.

“Vi, you’re here,” a tall, sturdy man greeted her with a grin, “And who is your friend?”

Vi straightened up unconsciously, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly against her chest as she gave you a gentle nudge forward, “This is (y/n). My girlfriend.”

Your stomach flipped at the short presentation. Girlfriend, she said for the second time and the night was barely beginning. The word sounded foreign yet delicious in her mouth. You were starting to enjoy it a little bit too much already.

You smiled politely, holding out your hand towards Vi’s dad. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The man laughed, accepting your hand. Nonetheless, he didn’t shake it —he pulled you in for a hug. It stunned you at first, but you ended up melting into his embrace. His scent was strong, of whiskey and wood, and it reminded you of your own dad.

“Call me Vander,” he whispered into your ear, pulling away but holding your right shoulder with one hand as he looked back at Vi, “Better take care of her, kiddo.”

On any other occasion, Vi would have scoffed at the nickname or mumbled something about lame parental advice. But this time, she only smiled and nodded.

“Will do.”

“It’s about time you brought someone special,” Vi’s cousin, Jayce, playfully hit her in the arm.

“You’re so charming,” Mel, his partner, came up to hug you, too. “And I love your makeup!”

“Thanks,” you blushed, smiling at the idea of everyone liking you already, “Your hair is so pretty.”

“Okay, okay, I met her first, I’m calling best friend dibs,” Powder jokingly pushed everyone else around, so she’d be standing next to you.

A warm hand grabbed you by the hip, and you didn’t need to turn around to realize it was Vi who pulled you closer, pressing her chest to your back. You could feel her breath against your neck as she spoke.

“She’s mine, so everyone back off,” she chuckled as she tried to pass it off as a joke, but the truth was she was starting to get jealous at everyone calling out for your attention. She wanted to be the only one you focused on tonight.

The evening progressed better than either of you could have planned. Everything felt natural. You laughing at Vi’s family’s comments, the way you both looked for each other, how well you fit into their dynamic.

As you sat down on a bar stool, you sighed happily and ordered a cocktail. Vi was at your side immediately, sitting down next to you and a hand casually resting on your knee.

“This is the best night ever,” she grinned, already a bit tipsy.

“You’re ridiculously good at this,” you tried to keep your voice even, sipping the cocktail once the bartender gave it to you.

Vi’s eyes lingered on the way your lips wrapped around the straw, mind drifting and imagining how well they would look wrapping her c—

She shook her head, trying to erase the image. But it was hard as you only looked at her in confusion, eyes flickering up and staring at her between thick eyelashes.

“Good at what?” she leaned closer, breath warm against your ear, “Being charming and irresistible?”

“And a pain in the ass,” you rolled your eyes playfully, but refused to move away. Having her this close only sent jolts of electricity in your body.

“Gotta admit, I like doing this with you,” she murmured, her grin softening but teasing, “Calling you my girlfriend, being this close to you… I like it a lot.”

There was a shift in the air surrounding you. Your pulse quickened and you felt a warmth flutter in your chest. Were you feeling this way because of the alcohol? There was a pull that you couldn’t explain. Is it barely an Omega instinct or is it because of Vi?, you thought to yourself, although you feared you knew the answer already.

By the time the night ended, everyone was smitten with you and wanted you around for the next reunions. Vander said you were always welcomed into his house and bar, Powder and Ekko wanted to hang out with you as soon as possible, and Jayce and Mel invited you to their housewarming party —which, oh surprise, was the next day. And Vi was quick to accept. With that, your resolve to stay detached had begun to crumble.

“We make a great team, the best team,” Vi said on the drive home, eyes glinting, “Don’t you think so?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat, adjusting the Alpha’s jacket around you and inhaling her intoxicating scent. As a reflex, Vi’s hand once again rested on your knee, brushing it softly, but you couldn’t ignore the spark you felt as she did.

“Yeah,” you turned to look at her, it was dark, but the dashboard light let you admire her side profile, “Yeah, we do.”

The next day, you woke up to the sound of your daily alarm you had forgotten to turn off. You stopped it and stretched, rolling onto your side. Just as the sleepiness began to wash off, you felt an odd pang to your chest —a lingering warmth from the night before.

Vi. The way she acted around you even when no one else was looking. You tried to tell yourself it was all a lie, just an act, but a part of you refused to believe it. The shared glances, the physical closeness, Vi’s words… I like doing this with you, she said. Did she mean it?

You did your usual morning routine, trying to stop thinking too much about it. Still, you had to do it all over again tonight.

As you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your unread text messages. You blinked at the notifications on Vi’s chat, noticing most of them were from right after she dropped you off.

Vi: [Deleted message]

Vi: [Deleted message]

Vi: you saved meeee thank you sossoso mucxh

Vi: [Deleted message]

Vi: [Deleted message]

Vi: Sorry, sent a bunch of drunk gibberish last night.

Vi: Morning! See you later?

Meanwhile, Vi was pacing around her room, phone in hand as she hoped that you hadn’t read the messages she had sent.

Vi: come backkk i wanna kiss u bby pls

Vi: u loked so pretiii istgg

Vi: you saved meeee thank you sossoso mucxh

Vi: wanna b isside u so bapp

Vi: ur perfect bby sosososo prfect ¡(“(/”!=

She deleted them as soon as she read them, leaving the only one that wasn’t inappropriate. She didn’t usually drunk messaged people —at least not like that.

She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a shaky breath after doing damage control. What the hell is wrong with me?, she thought and let herself fall into her bed. She was an Alpha —strong, independent, and fearless. But her mind was full of images of you, her friend, the Omega helping her out, the one who made her lose control.

Before she realized, her hand had already made its own way into her pajama pants and she let out a shaky, silent gasp as she touched herself, closing her eyes to picture you —your face, your eyes, your parted lips, the way your breasts would fit perfectly into her hands.

It felt dirty, but she couldn’t stop. She ended up having to flip over, thrusting her hips against the edge of her bed. She imagined it was you underneath her, she had you leaning against a counter and had raised your skirt far enough to find your slit. Would you be dripping all over? Would you be moaning against her hand as she tried to silence you? Would you take her all in on the first try?

Her movements became sloppy and hurried, panting as she chased her own release. She finally came undone, her body relaxing against the bed. It was quick and not nearly as fulfilling as she had expected, but it was better than nothing.

Her high was interrupted by the notifications sounds on her phone, and she fixed her pants as she stood up slowly. Vi made a quick mental note to wash her sheets later in the day, grabbing her phone and almost dropping as she read your name.

You: Hi! No worries lol

You: Pick me up at 7?

Vi was not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

The evening arrived quickly, and you walked into Mel and Jayce’s home, Vi’s hand firm on your hips as you navigated around the crowded rooms. You couldn’t ignore the fact that her scent was even stronger than before, and it was making you lightheaded, so you appreciated having her hold onto you, even if she didn’t do it for that specific reason.

“You made it!” Mel greeted you with a hug once again, “Feel free to grab anything from the waiters. Dinner will be served in about an hour.”

“Vi, I should tell you, my mother invited—”

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite pink-haired Alpha.”

Vi’s eyes widened in surprise as she heard the voice, clearing her throat. You noticed her grip tightened and loosened up repeatedly against your hip.

A tall, beautiful woman walked up towards you. She was smiling seductively, and you didn’t know whether to feel jealous or to admire her. Everything about her was gorgeous.

“Hey, Cait,” Vi greeted her and felt you tense up under her touch.

So, this is Caitlyn, you thought. Vi told you all about her. They had some sort of friends-with-benefits agreement, not caring for exclusiveness, only using each other to let out the stress and find some release.

You lowered your gaze as she stood in front of you, clearly intimidated by her imposing stance. Nonetheless, Cait smiled at you and held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Caitlyn,” when you looked up into her eyes, you noticed a glint of mischief, “You must be (y/n).”

You were taken aback by the mention of your own name. How did she know who you were?

You shook her hand, noticing out of the corner of your eye that Vi was blushing. A rare sight. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Cait turned to look at Vi, “And you! You hadn’t called me in a while, I thought you vanished into thin air.”

“I’ve been busy,” Vi shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but everything inside her was screaming. There were ambulance sirens and red lights in her head.

“Vi and (y/n) are dating,” Jayce smiled nervously as he joined the conversation, nudged by Mel.

Cait nodded in understanding, turning towards the two of you once again. She smiled gently at you, and you second guessed your jealousy. Of course Vi had a thing for Caitlyn, she was insanely gorgeous. She was charismatic, self-assured, and so gentle.

You remembered the times that Vi vaguely told you about their hook ups and how you thought she was a bitch. A wave of guilt spread through your chest as she smiled warmly at you.

“You make a beautiful couple,” she leaned forward to hug the two of you quickly, her head right in between yours to whisper, “I’m into threesomes if you’re ever interested. You’re so much hotter than what I was told.”

She pulled back and winked at you, smiling once again as she said goodbye and walked away.

You blinked as you felt heat creeping up your cheeks and turned to look at Vi for answers. She was staring at Cait’s back, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she shook her head. As soon as she noticed you were looking at her, Vi smiled sheepishly at you.

“Don’t mind her, I’m not sharing you.”

Your stomach flipped once again as her hand found its usual spot at your hip.

An hour later, you were sitting at the dinner table making small conversation when you felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body. It was subtle at first, so you tried to ignore it, but out of a sudden it hit you with force.

You maintained composure for as long as you could, but by dessert, your pulse was erratic, and your breaths were short and shallow. It didn’t help that Vi smelled so good. You were hyper-aware of her: how close she was, whenever she touched your hand or knee, the spot burned as if you were on fire, her breath as she leaned in and whispered something unintelligible in your ear. Your omega instincts screamed, waiting nothing more than to stop pretending, to stop resisting, and asking Vi to claim you.

She noticed the shift in your demeanor, “Are you okay?”

You noticed the concern in her voice, the way her eyes sharpened as she worried, how her hand grabbed yours and squeezed it to comfort you, but everything only made the fire in your belly burn stronger.

“It’s… It’s the—It’s the wine,” you stuttered, clenching your hands to hide your tremors.

Vi nodded, not wanting to press you any further. Her arm surrounded your shoulders and pulled you closer, a thumb brushing lightly against your side. Little did she know it was making everything worse.

“It’s okay, hun,” she whispered, voice low and magnetic, “I’ve got you.”

The simple sentence, her presence beside you, her touch —everything was overwhelming. Your instincts demanded attention, the warmth pooling in your core betraying you.

You were always careful to track your heat, avoiding going out if there was any chance of getting it soon or using suppressants to avoid it. Your heats were unpredictable: you could either only get moody and horny but manage to handle it yourself; or you would be a whimpering mess, hiding in between your sheets or having someone help you out through it.

With this whole performance you and Vi agreed to do, you forgot to check your calendar. And your heat came with a strong force right there, at the dinner table.

Your hands clenched into fists, legs pressing against each other as you did your best to hide it. God, why here? Why now?

Vi’s head immediately turned to look at you, nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. Your scent… it was sweet, unmistakable.

“God, did you just get—”

She interrupted herself, trying to maintain composure. As soon as a couple of heads turned and looked around the room, she knew she had to get you out of there.

“I’ll take you home,” she muttered, biting her inner cheek as she forced a smile and quickly explained the situation to Mel, who was sitting next to her.

Mel’s eyes widened up and nodded immediately, giving you a reassuring look as Vi helped you up and cautiously walked out of the place, avoiding exposing you to curious eyes.

You were walking towards Vi’s car when your knees faltered, and she caught you, holding you close.

“I can’t control it,” your eyes filled with tears, not knowing if it was out of embarrassment or the urge to feel any sort of relief, “I’m sorry, I can’t…”

Vi carried you with ease, approaching the car with you in her arms. She carefully set you down on the back seats, letting you rest for a bit. She kneeled, hand caressing your cheek.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” she whispered, taking a deep breath as she moved her hand away and you whimpered, “I’ll take care of you.”

Vi held tightly onto the steering wheel as she drove back to your apartment. Even though the windows were down, your scent was all she could focus on. Her jaw flexed, her shoulders stiffened, she was trying hard to restrain her instincts. Having you whimpering and groaning in the back of her car made it almost impossible.

She parked in front of your place, hurrying to carry you out of the car and let you inside. A slow whine slipped past your throat as her hands were on your skin, and Vi could swear you were burning up.

Vi made her way inside, having been to your apartment countless times before, but feeling as if it was the very first time. She walked towards your bedroom, letting you down carefully on the bed.

You sobbed as you felt her warmth leave you, “Vi, please…”

She gulped loudly, wanting nothing more than to give into her instincts, but she tried to hold it back, “I’ll stay for a bit just to make sure you’re alright. I’ll give you some space.”

“No, n—” your breath caught, feeling the air was too hot so you tried to get out of the uncomfortable dress, “Help me…”

Vi took a deep breath, holding it as long as she could while she walked towards you and helped you out of the dress. She had to look away once you were on your underwear, feeling her core pulsing, so she walked to your drawers and grabbed a random oversized shirt.

“Here you—” she stopped dead in her tracks as she turned back around.

You were lying on the bed, one hand holding one of your breasts as the other one made its way down your body.

Both of you had drunk a lot of wine, but no amount of alcohol could compare to the sight of you, on your underwear, teasing her like this.

“Vi…” you moaned lightly, and her legs gave up, kneeling right where she stood, “Vi, please… I need you. I want you.”

She crawled towards the bed, kneeling right at your feet. This was the loveliest, prettiest view she had ever seen.

“Are you sure?”, she asked, mouth watering as your hand disappeared inside your underwear.

You let out a new whimper, “P-Please...”

Vi nodded instantly, lifting herself up just enough for her hands to reach your underwear. She slowly pulled it down, hissing as your pussy came right into view. It was as if her hands had a life of their own, for they instantly grabbed your legs and pulled them apart as you tried to close them.

A wave of cold air hit you and made you shiver, but your legs burned right where Vi’s hands touched you. You unconsciously started moving your hips, looking for some friction to alleviate the feeling.

Vi looked up at you once again, “Baby, I need you to be sure about this.”

“I a-am,” you nodded, looking straight into her eyes, and the sight of Vi kneeling right between your legs, with her face inches away from your dripping pussy, only made you move your hips harder, “I’m sure, Vi, please.”

And with the confirmation, Vi dived in.

You moaned loudly as her tongue started lapping at your pussy, hands immediately grabbing her head to keep her close.

Your scent was nothing compared to the way you tasted. Vi couldn’t help herself.

“Fuck,” she mumbled against your clit, “You taste so good.”

“Please, please, don’t stop,” you moaned as you pushed her into you once again.

Vi could live like this forever. She curled her tongue and let out a low groan as you slightly pulled her hair, to which she responded with digging her nails into your thighs.

She switches it up, circling up your clit and pressing you down against the mattress. She loves it. She loves the sounds you make, the way your hips buck against her, how you’re holding her tightly against your pussy… it’s better than anything she could have ever imagined.

She sucks on your swollen clit, humming against you as one of her hands frees your thigh only for her fingers to start toying with your entrance. You’re so wet, her middle finger pushes inside you with ease.

“V-Vi!” you moan, arching up your back.

But she doesn’t give up. Her tongue speeds up as she starts finger fucking you, making circles around your clit.

Your legs start trembling and she forces them open with just one hand, diving deeper into you. A second finger enters your slit, and she’s slurping at your juices. Her tongue is curling against your clit, going faster than she did before, and she knows you’re about to come before you let her know.

“A-Ah! Shit, shit, yes!”

You come undone in her lips and she takes it all in, slurping and flicking her tongue to not let a single drop go to waste. Your hips buck from overstimulation, moans escaping your throat as you gently pull her hair.

“Vi, I need you inside me,” you whimper, “Please.”

Giving your pussy a final lick, she pulls back and admires it for a couple of seconds. Vi watches as she takes her fingers out of you, groaning as they come out fully coated with your juices. She brings them into her mouth and closes her eyes to enjoy your taste, cleaning them out before looking back at you.

You’re already propped onto your elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly, but you’re quick to whimper again as your gaze meets Vi’s.

“Please,” you say again, and it’s all Vi needs to hear to stand up.

Her clothes end up scattered around your room, not caring about the mess when you’re on the bed, begging for her to fuck you. Her clit is already pulsing, and you can clearly see it, hands immediately going to gently stroke it.

She hisses and grabs your hand, pulling it over your head as she adjusts herself on top of you, “Sorry, I really need to feel your warmth.”

Your chuckle gets interrupted as she slowly enters you, eliciting a loud whimper from you as your hands now grab onto her back tightly.

“You’re so tight,” she groans as she pushes herself inside you, “Fuck, baby, you’re taking me so well.”

“A-Ah, Vi, yes.”

“You like it?” she pushes herself in deeper, smirking at the way your eyes flutter shut and your eyebrows furrow, “C’mon, use your words…”

“Yes, yes,” you nod immediately, “Please, Vi, I need you to move.”

You’re about to complain as you feel her pull out, when she suddenly thrusts back into you with force. Your nails pierce to her back as she begins thrusting into you, quickly finding a pace that had you both moaning in pleasure.

Everything else was gone. Your minds were free of worries, doubts, insecurities —all you had right now each other. The magnetic pull of instinct, the shared heat between you, the feelings you both had let flourished into this moment.

Vi’s lips were nipping at your breasts, when she accidentally ended up making her way at the crook of your neck. Neither of you noticed the insistent tingling —Vi’s urge to mark you, your urge to be claimed. You felt a sharp pain as her teeth bit into the side of your neck, but you ignored it, too caught up with the feeling of her inside you to care.

“I’m gonna cum,” she breathed rapidly, pace speeding up as she reached her high, “C’mon, baby, cum with me.”

Without waiting for your response, her hand found her way between your legs and started circling faster and faster at your clit. You moaned in surprise at the intense feeling, letting out a whimper as you felt the second orgasm of the night hit you out of a sudden.

Vi collapsed on top of you, having emptied herself inside you. She remained inside, enjoying the warm feeling of your walls around her.

“We shouldn’t—”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” you muttered, walls clenching against her as your heat was far from over, “Please, Vi, I need you.”

Her eyes sparked with desire, nodding as she slowly began moving again, “Fine. Less talking, more fucking.”

Your alarm went off, and you grunted, turning it off with your eyes closed as you threw the phone at the other side of the room. You stretched out, and you narrowed your eyes as your hand hit something soft. You stirred up, blinking slowly as you took in the figure next to you: reddish pink hair, bare tattooed back, an arm holding your waist tightly, legs intertwined with yours.

Warmth pooled in your chest and in your core as you had blurry flashbacks of the night before. You went into heat in the middle of the party. You begged Vi to fuck you. You had sex with Vi.

You covered your face with your free hand, shaking your head lightly in embarrassment. You hissed lowly as you felt soreness on the side of your neck, eyebrows furrowing as your hand dropped and touched the spot.

Your fingers brushed something, slightly raised. Your eyes widened. No. It couldn’t be.

You must have begun trembling, for Vi was quick to stir up. With eyes half-lidded, she shuffled around for a bit. “Mmm… what time is it?”

“Vi, do you remember last night?” your cheeks burned red, not only from the memories of your sex-night but from feeling the inevitable pull towards Vi, stronger than ever before.

She sat up lightly, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She turned towards you, eyes traveling down to the spot where your hand still was. The sight of it seemed to fully wake her now, eyes widening and lips parting. “Holy shit.”

“You marked me!” Panic flared inside you as you threw her an accusatory finger.

“I… Hold on,” she raised her hands, and you could swear you saw the gears on her brain turning as she tried to remember, “I didn’t… Shit, I… It was an accident, I swear.”

You stood up and grabbed the first piece of clothing you found on the floor, which turned out to be Vi’s shirt from last night’s party. You were about to apologize and take it off, but stealing her shirt wasn’t half as bad as accidentally marking you.

You ran towards the bathroom, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. There it was, clear as day. A brand new, bright red, very permanent-looking, mating mark.

You hadn’t just indulged in a night of passion with your Alpha friend who you had feelings for. You had bonded. Forever.

You walked back into the room, surprising Vi who was mid-dressed. Since you had taken her shirt, she had thrown one of your pajamas on. Your instincts pulled with longing, wanting Vi to hold you in her arms, to stay with her in bed all day.

But your logical side was panicking. Vi noticed your wide, teary eyes, and made her way up to you. She had always been protective of you, hating to see you hurt or sad, but she always tried to give you space. With the magnetic pull of your bond, she knew it was going to be hell trying to be away from you.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a hand cupping your cheek, “I’m still me. You’re still you. I’m sorry that I let my instincts get the best of me and I’m sorry that you hate this… and I’m sorry that I feel so happy.”

You froze, looking up at her with confusion, warmth stirring up inside of you.

“You’re… happy?”

“I don’t mean it in a selfish way,” she bit her lower lip, looking down at the mark on your neck, “I mean it in a ‘I love you’ kind of way.”

Before you could open your mouth, she continued.

“I’m sorry that it happened this way, it’s not how I planned— Well, I wasn’t planning anything yet,” she chuckled nervously, pursing her lips, “I meant what I said two nights ago. I like calling you my girlfriend, I like having you around, I like being with you.”

“I like it, too,” you gave her a gentle smile, “And I’ve liked you for a while.”

Vi’s smiled grew and she tugged you closer, lips brushing against your temple, “Good. Because now you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

You leaned into her, letting yourself relax fully. Your heart was pounding and body tingling, as the truth set in: Vi was your Alpha.

She was thinking the exact same thing. As her arms wrapped around you, she hummed lowly. You were hers, and she was yours. Nothing was going to change that.

“Oh my God!”

Powder put her hand on your jaw and tilted your head upwards, admiring the mark on your neck.

It had been a week since the marking incident, and all of Vi’s friends kept asking about you.

“They like you more than they like me”, she told you as you cuddled you one night. That’s why you dropped by Vi’s home.

“You freaking marked her!” Powder chuckled happily, smacking her sister in the arm, “I can’t believe it, you finally settled down.”

Vi smile faltered as her sister held out her hand towards the rest of the family and friends, and they pulled out a couple of bills to pay her.

“What’s going on?”

“We had a little bet,” Ekko shrugged sheepishly, counting the money that Powder passed to him, “Yup, it’s 20 bucks.”

“A bet on what?” You asked in confusion.

“You know, how long it would take you to actually be together,” Powder grinned as her mate gave her back the money, “You don’t think we were fooled by your poor acting last week, right?”

“What the fuck,” Vi shook her head in disbelief, “We weren’t acting!”

“You weren’t cause you were actually head over heels for each other,” Mel grabbed your hand and gave you a squeeze as she smiled excitedly.

“We were rooting for you,” Jayce nodded, “But, yeah, you come over with a girlfriend out of a sudden? She’s definitely a paid actor.”

You looked at Vi and crossed your arms in mock anger, “You didn’t pay me one cent.”

Vi rolled her eyes, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in, “Well, I have other paying methods.”

“Ew! That’s so gross,” Powder scrunched her nose before holding out her hand once again, “Told you there’d be a sex joke on the first week, pay up!”

You laughed as your friends groaned and pulled out more money, before looking back at Vi. She was already staring at you with a smile on her face.

“God, I really like doing this with you.”

[cinnabarfangs]

IT'S FINALLY HERE!! find out what happened on The Date here:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/62058784

[meganegatari]

my fav art of her yall...

ART BY @ WICKESDT ON TWITTER, GO SUPPORT THEM!!

[loaksky]

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, who’s rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

.

.

.

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

She reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

neng © 2024

[arcana-angel]

#NEEDTHAT - SEVIKA X READER ♡

tags/warnings: nsfw / smut, dom sevika, sub reader, established relationship, oral + strap penetration (r!recieving). this is actually quite romantic, soft sevika, you get fluff with your smut today. fem reader implied (no she/her used) + afab anatomy (cunt, pussy, tits, clit, ovulation) + feminine pet names (doll, princess, pretty thing) for reader.

summary: you're ovulating and you have brainworms about your busy councilor girlfriend. you entice her into fulfilling your desperate needs!

wc: 3.7k

a/n: hi sorry for dying for like 9 months , my transformers special interest reared its ugly head ... and i also got engaged LMFAO . heres my contributions for pride month as an apology <3

---------- this work is 18 + nsfw ! minors please do not interact :) ----------

being sevika's partner is awesome.

she's chivalrous in a way you wouldn't expect. it's all the bells and whistles, opening doors, striding on the side closer to the road on walkways, if an airship's seats are full, she'll stand so you don't have to. she confesses one night after nursing her whiskey a little too long, mumbling at you as you tuck her into bed.

"i ne'er really pegged myself as the type to give a shit about romance, but you make me wanna be soft."

before you can coo lovingly at sevika, she's chuckling. you ask what's so funny.

"heh, pegged."

you swat her shoulder, which makes her laugh harder.

sevika's also the epitome of a provider. she's got a real problem where if you even *look* at something too long, it's yours. maybe not the same day, but she *will* get it for you. you're exceptionally easy to buy for, because she's always attentive.

she's also strong, and tall, and funny in this dry, sarcastic way that makes you often miss the joke for a few minutes because she  says it so bluntly. she's honest, she's fantastic in bed, and she even smells good, like smoke and sandalwood and musk.

the sole issue of being sevika's partner is just how busy she is.

now, that's not that big of an issue. you knew damn well what you were getting into when you started dating the councilwoman sevika. it was actually one of the things that drew you to her. her work ethic, her drive, her determination. as a zaunite yourself, you were no stranger to the conditions and circumstances that the undercity had been plagued by both in the long term and more recent memory. how could you ever begrudge her work?

well, you didn't. 

besides, sevika makes time for you whenever humanly possible. sevika gives you her schedule every single day down to the minute. you’d be at the academy parked outside those meeting room doors, ready to walk her to her office for a lunch you brought. you're sure to wake up, still tired with the worst morning breath (sevika doesn't mind in the least), to kiss her and send her off. you're awake late with a meal and a drink on the table for when she comes home, and often in your cutest underwear to entice her into eating you instead.

your life, despite sevika's business, is functional, fluid, fulfilled. you can work as much as you want or be a stay at home wife, sevika supports all your passions and endeavours wholeheartedly, and you get cracked multiple times a week.

no amount of planning can make a body bend to a schedule however, and you wake up one morning drenched.

it's that time of month.

no, not the bloody one.

the horny one.

you're ovulating, and your first thought when you gain consciousness is something along the lines of ‘i want sevika to fuck me until she somehow gets me pregnant with her strap.’

that proceeds to be your second thought. and your third. and so on and so forth, until your mind is nothing but horny chanting for sevika to obliterate you. sexily, of course.

she's usually already up, choosing to wake up earlier to have a moment of admiring you like the sap she is. you're sure you can convince her to make a pit stop to pound town before leaving the house.

you roll over, ready to turn up all your charm and seduction to eleven for your big strong sexy woman.

“hey lover, how about we-”

you cut yourself off, because the bed is empty. your horny brain had somehow failed to supply you with the critical loss of warm solid weight beside you.

sevika’s out of the house early. she’s got a big proposal of redirecting some funds to developing zaunite schools that she’s got to pitch to the council tomorrow. she’d already warned you last night that she’d be gone for nearly the whole day. 

‘i’ll make it up to you over the weekend, baby.’

you may be ovulating, but that doesn’t mean you’re selfish. you’re not about to go bother her at work with something so important on the line. you can just do what you did before you met sevika!

except you can’t, because sevika knows your body better than you do. you have one rather uneventful orgasm in the time it would have taken for sevika to give you three. how is it possible that she’s ruined your own body for you?

you go about your day, counting down the minutes until sevika comes home. five minutes feels like an hour, an hour feels like a day, and your brain will not stop supplying you with scenario after scenario of your wife.

sevika behind you fucking you doggy style, her arm around your neck, choking you just a little as she holds you to her chest. her bicep flexes, your breath cuts off for one controlled second, her strap rutting into you until you…

…drop the jar of sauce you’d been absentmindedly inspecting. it shatters on the floor, breaking you out of your stupor. you have to pay for the wasted product, but at least your red face is mistaken for embarrassment over the sauce.

sevika between your legs, your thighs over her shoulders. she’s got her flesh hand supporting the curve of your ass, and the cool metal of her other hand’s fingers splayed over your stomach. she holds you down, stops you from squirming, which you’re doing a lot of considering this is your third orgasm. you whine, hands clawing at the sheets, warning her you’re about to…

… get hit by some little punk on a chemtech hoverboard. the child wooshes past you, startling you badly out of your daydream, making you drop your bag of groceries. 

“watch where you’re going, bro!”

they mock you, giving you the finger as they fly out of view. you realise you’ve wandered into the middle of the street, and you’re getting some weird looks from people on the edges of the road. you quickly scoop up your belongings and hurry home.

sevika getting home. sevika taking her clothes off. sevika in nothing but her boxers. sevika letting you help take off her prosthetic. sevika holding you. sevika kissing you, her labret cool compared to your hot breaths. sevika pushing you against the wall, her knee between your legs, grinding up just right. sevika whispering in your ear…

“hey, doll. is that supposed to smell burnt?”

you’re not pinned to the wall. you’re behind the stove, getting lost in your thoughts again. the sauce is bubbling, teeny bits of char arising when you push it around again. what’s worse is you didn’t even hear sevika come in, far too preoccupied with conjuring fantasies of her. you kill the heat and turn to her, smiling.

“no, but i’m sure it’s fine. how was work?”

this is all pretense. you’re desperately hoping she says that she was so busy all day and she could really blow off some steam. instead, you get an apologetic quirk of her dark lips.

“kinda shit. didn’t get everything done. i’m gonna have to stay up late to get this proposal finalised. that okay?”

no! it’s not! you need her carnally right this instant!

is what you want to say. but you have decorum. so you don’t.

“of course not, i know how important this is to you. let me fix you dinner.”

you scoop a large serving of noodles and sauce into a bowl, and send her off with steaming, slightly burnt food, and a kiss on the cheek.

you try to entertain yourself, you really do. still, you poke into sevika’s office every half hour.

“how’s it going?” “good.” “do you think you’ll be done soon?” “maybe. i’m not sure yet, baby.” “you might need a break, you’ve been working really hard all day…” “i’ll take a break in a bit, don’t worry about me.”

you feel like you’re going insane, clawing at the walls of your own brain with need. sevika’s getting a tad annoyed with your constant check-ins, you can tell, but she’s got her little reading glasses on, and she’s got such a severe ‘i’m working’ face that makes you crazy, and you just can't take it anymore.

“sevika.”

there’s something in your tone that makes sevika look up properly when you next appear in the doorway. you stare her dead in the eyes.

“i need you to fuck me immediately or i’ll literally die.”

she’s quiet for a long moment, before she gives you a lazy little smirk as she takes her glasses off.

“you’ll literally die? bit dramatic of you.” “not dramatic enough! i dropped the stupid sauce in the store and i nearly got hit by a hoverboarder and it didn’t even matter because i still burnt the sauce-” “it tasted fine.” “that’s not the point! the point is i literally can’t function until you take care of me! i’ve been thinking of you all day, so please make me cum my brains out just once and i promise i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the evening.”

sevika frowns at that, rotating her chair enough to spread her thighs wide. she pats the muscular plane of her left leg, and you’re moving before you can even process the nonverbal command.

“you’re not a chore, princess, and you don’t gotta leave me alone.”

her tone is warm, rich, immediately making you melt as you perch in her lap, legs straining over her mass to straddle her. she tilts your face up with her hand. she’s taken her prosthetic off for the evening, so she’s holding you up by just your jaw, making you look at her. her innate dominance immediately sends heat to your cunt.

“now, i’m gonna oblige your little request for attention. you gonna behave?”

your head is nodding the second she says ‘you’. 

“go grab the strap, lube too. gonna fuck you right here in my chair.”

like a dog hearing it’s favourite words, you hurry to obey sevika. with a less than graceful manoeuvre, you’re off her broad lap and out of the room. your brain is like a well-oiled and very horny machine. 

outer layer of clothing off, leaving you in nothing but the cute black panties you wore in hopes of this very scenario coming true. drawer, dildo, harness, lube, back to sevika. you don’t even shut the drawer before you’re tearing off back to her office.

the sight that awaits you is nothing short of divine. sevika standing tall, gathering papers at the sides of her desk. she’s gotten her dark brown pants off, now gathered in a heap next to the chair, leaving her in that black wife pleaser that shows off all the muscle of her bicep and a little of her cleavage. her boxers are absent too, giving you an eyeful of the dark brown folds of her cunt and the prominent shape of her large clit.

she’s always so hot when she’s focused, thick brows always drawn slightly from a lifetime of frowning, strong nose that made her side profile so distinct, full lips moving slightly as she subconsciously plays with her labret piercing inside her mouth, silver eyes trained on the task at hand. 

that intense gaze turns to you, and despite the hunger that flickers to life in sevika’s eyes at the sight of you holding the harness and dark purple silicone, you can also see her pupils dilate. she really does love you so much.

“c’mere. you’re so fuckin’ cute, waiting for me all patiently. panties off, hop up on the desk.”

you give her a slightly confused look. why the command to grab the strap if she’s not going to use it right away? before you can even ask, she’s answering.

“’m not skipping foreplay.” “but i’m ready now.” “i bet you are, doll. but how about you oblige me a little?”

that’s sevika’s slick way of getting you to agree to prep. as much as you want her to fuck you without any more preamble, she’s always going to make sure you’re properly ready. she made sure to get a faux cock proportionate to her size, after all. that shit stings without at least a little help.

it’s also sevika’s slick way of getting to eat you out. 

what? she’s nothing if not a munch.

you, of course, oblige her. you shimmy off your underwear, sevika taking the time to pull the harness on with practised precision. no sooner does your bare ass meet cool wood is she sitting down in her chair, pulling it up. 

her hand presses to your stomach lightly, encouraging you to lay back a bit. you prop your elbows up, careful to avoid her very important papers. without any more input, you’re spreading your legs as well, and sevika internally preens a bit at just how well behaved you are for her. her warm, calloused palm slides from your tummy, over your hip and down to your inner thigh, pushing it back just a bit further. 

your cunt is so wet, already shiny with arousal. sevika inhales deeply, groaning at the heady scent, her gaze lidding as it lifts to meet yours.

“aw, she really missed me huh? look, she’s droolin’ for me.”

her thumb brushes the hood of your clit and you make a noise that’s best described as pathetic. it spurs your lover on, and she lowers her head to lick a broad stripe up the full length of your slit. then another, and another, until she’s lapping at you with wild abandon, the bridge of her nose rubbing against your clit as she fucks you with her tongue.

“oh fuck, vika…”

you can barely choke out words, far too busy mewling for her instead. sevika doesn’t seem to mind, more focused on tasting you. 

at some point she throws one of your legs over her left shoulder, and you dig your heel into her back as she turns to sucking your clit instead. her teeth and piercing graze you on occasion, and your hands are definitely mucking up her papers as you try to find purchase on the desk.

“i’m gonna- i’m gonna cum on your face if you don’t stop.”

sevika pulls away just barely at the warning, resting her cheek on your inner thigh. her heavy breaths puff over your cunt, and her chin glistens with your juices.

“you wanna do that, or cum on my strap instead?” “strap. i want you to put a baby in me.”

a sharp bark of laugher fills your ears as sevika grins at you, all teeth and need. 

“i can fuckin’ try. lap, now.”

she pushes back a little from the desk, and you sit up on shaky arms. you slide from the desk back to standing, and then down onto sevika’s lap again. the silicone of her strap rests on your stomach as she wraps her arm under yours to hold your back. you blindly reach for the lube that was somewhere on the desk, and neither you nor sevika register the flutter of paper as you find the bottle. 

you apply a generous squirt to the tip, then spread it down the length. sevika watches you pump the dildo with those lazy silver eyes.

“we gotta get one of those hexstraps. bet your hands would feel as good on me as they look.”

that prospect gets filed away in your mind. right now, you want to ride sevika into next week. you give her your best puppy eyes, and she sighs and lets you rub your hands on her tits over her top to get rid of the sticky lube remains on your hands.

“go on, princess. you’ve earned it.”

you mumble a very whiny ‘thank you’ as you adjust on her lap, lifting your hips and angling the dildo to rub against your folds. sevika’s hand on your back moves down to your ass, encouraging you to sink down. you do, and your forehead meets the skin of where her shoulder meets her neck, as sevika finally stuffs your cunt. 

it doesn’t take long for you to start taking what you want, rolling your hips and shifting up and down to fuck yourself on sevika’s lap. your noises are muffled as you pant into her shoulder like you’re in heat. she doesn’t move, letting you set the pace. her hand simply moves up the curve of your rear as you lift, and then down again with you. 

you keep this up for a while, but as good as this is, you need more. you need sevika to fuck you. you speak up, breathless already.

“vika, please.” “please what? use your words.” “i need you to fuck me properly. please.” “thought you’d never ask.”

and then your breath is punched from your lungs, because she snaps her hips up sharply, driving the blunt head of the strap against your walls in an angle that feels incredible. you quickly devolve into ‘fuck yes’ and ‘harder’ as your hands fist into her top. sevika’s hand on your ass turns to control, driving your hips down harder for you to meet her thrusts.

the office is filled with the wet sounds of the strap pulling out of your creamy cunt, and the slap of skin on skin as you’re seated down on her strap over and over. sevika’s mastery of your body is unparalleled, she hits the perfect spots inside you every time. it’s muscle memory for her.

your movements become uncoordinated as you get closer to orgasm. you’re really just humping sevika while she fucks up into you. she takes this as her sign to lean her head down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. her pace never slows.

“you’re so greedy for this fuckin’ strap. naughty little brat couldn’t wait for me to finish my work, huh?”

you whine at sevika, the dirty talking not quite landing. brat taming is nothing foreign to you two, but right now this just isn’t doing it for you. you feel a little bad in the back of your head that you’re tearing her away from work. she knows your queues and noises like the back of your hand though, and immediately course corrects.

“it’s okay, pretty thing. you’re so good for me, always so good.”

she pauses for a moment to readjust, moving her hand from your back. instead, she reaches for your face, pulling you out of the crook of her neck and making you look at her. her broad fingers squish into the warm flesh of your cheeks as she keeps bouncing you on her strap. your fingers migrate from her top to dig into the corded muscle of her shoulders. sevika’s shoulders, but she doesn’t so much as grunt even as you hang on for dear life.

sevika holds you there, holding your jaw easily in her palm as she forces you to look at her. you hold eye contact despite how badly you want to let your eyes roll back. 

her pace changes. slower but deeper, letting you feel each and every stroke of her strap. 

“you’re so fuckin’ perfect. fallin’ apart for me so pretty, waiting so desperately all day just for me to fuck you. ’m the luckiest woman in all of zaun and piltover.”

you try to protest, try to say ‘nuh uh, that’s me’ but sevika purposely grinds her next thrust against your cervix in a way that isn’t bruising but still wipes your mind. you’re teetering on the edge, thoughts getting mixed up with the desperate need to cum.

“nnnuh…”

she laughs at you, but it’s not mean. she changes her pattern again, ramping up until she’s back to pounding you in earnest.

“poor baby, too close to cummin’ to think straight. rub that clit for me, yeah?, wanna see you finish on my strap.”

one of your hands shakily leaves her shoulder to find your cunt, rubbing tight little circles around your clit. sevika watches you touch yourself for half a second, before looking you in the eye again. 

she draws your face closer to hers. your mouth is slack as your moans escape, and sevika takes it upon herself to kiss you in the filthiest way possible as your orgasm hits you. 

you whimper into sevika’s lips, the noise swallowed by her responding groan, and then her tongue. she licks into your mouth as she slows her hips. you come down from your high, your higher functions kicking back in and allowing you to kiss sevika back. you wrap your arms around her neck, fingers scratching at the baby hairs at her nape.

it’s slow, languid, perfect. when you pull away to breathe, you’re struck by just how beautiful sevika is. she’s sweaty, short hair sticking to her forehead, chest heaving as she catches her breath.

you go to paw at sevika’s thigh, fingertips slipping under the front of the harness. she got you off and you want to return the favour, but she’s ever so gently taking your hand and moving it away from her cunt, holding it instead.

“nah, baby. as much as i wanna have your hands on me, this proposal ain’t gonna finish itself. you can feel me up when i come to bed.”

your brain is blessedly clear now that you’ve been satiated, and you nod and press chaste pecks to the side of sevika’s face. sevika chuckles at you, letting you make your way to her mouth, where you meet in a kiss that’s all love.

“lemme help you out of the strap, and then i’ll let you finish this up. this was more than enough to tide me over until bedtime.” “i love you. an’ i meant it, you’re never a chore to me.” “i know. i love you too.”

sevika’s papers are a little crumpled as she makes her proposal to the council the next day, but mercifully, nobody asks why.

i need to start a blog to like all my transformers shit and post my fanfics for that too bc its cluttering this feed >< anyways idk when my next post will be but i hope you guys like this .... mwah mwah have an excellent june everypony !

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