Hello!I just stumbled upon your recent post about opening up commissions again. And it makes me happy you do Arcane!😅. Anyway I was maybe hoping for my request/suggestion.
Vi x female reader(She/her). It's just romantic of course!idk of you're comfortable with a single mother fem y/n?like reader already has the child it's ok to not do this!!
I just more so want some Vi x female reader where Vi gets out of Still water and going to find her onve teen girlfriend again baisvally a chess reunion between them
It's been a while since I've written a request, and anything for Arcane in that matter so I hope this isn't too ooc-
Anyways I love Vi <33333
"I trust her."
Vi x f!reader [could be easily read as gn!reader though too, no phsyical specifics about reader were described]
Summary ; In which Vi discovers you're looking after a kid.
Requested? ; Yes.
Warnings ; None, outside of a small description of an injury and some mentions of enforcers being awful.
Word count ; 1.3 k words.
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"You... have a kid?"
The small hellion behind you hid by your legs. He barely reached past your knees. A bit small for a five year old, but given the circumstances of Zaun... it was the norm.
You turned towards the kid, and placed a comforting hand on the top of his head. He visibly relaxed at the gesture, and tentatively peaked out to look at the strong woman in front of you both.
"Not my kid by blood, Vi", you told her with a forced chuckle. "You know me, I don't think I'd get with any of the guys down here in Zaun. Even here in the Firelights."
Vi took her gaze off of the kid, and settled her eyes on you.
"Well...", she started, her tone a bit tense. "It has been, what, seven years? Things change."
Except you, she hoped. Kind hearted, beautiful you. A light in the dark of Zaun and Piltover alike. At least, that's how she described you as when it was just her and Vander, talking about everything and nothing during one of the calmer nights before shit hit the fan.
"Not always", you replied. You kept your voice calm, and careful. A habit you've made for yourself whenever the Firelights let in someone new. It kept the children the group took care of calm, and kept the adults from lashing out. You did that because you had no idea what the newcomers had been through. Be it their addiction to Shimmer, loss of a loved one, or the brutality of an enforcer.
You had to make sure there was a level of trust. And stars know how you needed to keep that up with Vi, with everything she's been through at Stillwater. Keep a level head. Don't let all your old emotions and memories resurface to the cracks you painstakingly had to fill.
Especially with the little guy near your legs, who had begun to stare tiny daggers at Vi.
"This little guy--", you began, voice straining with a bit of effort while you hauled him up to your hip. "--is still new here. Kind of. Won't leave my side, not that I mind. Scar said it was like I was... reverse adopted or something like that."
You smiled wryly at the thought. "I figured why not take him under my wing? Help him acclimate and get used to it here. I had extra space in my room too, so it all worked out."
A small smile pulled at the corners of Vi's mouth. You were still just as kindhearted as when you both were teenagers. Still lovely.
Good, she thinks. That's good.
"So... not your kid then, bird?"
The nickname fell so seamlessly off her tongue. A nickname she gave you because during your little exploits up to Piltover, whenever it was just you and her, you practically flew around the buildings. You had told her it was because you had a good teacher to help you. If Vi remembered correctly, that was around the time of her first kiss with you.
She said you were amazing, you said you had a good teacher and gave her the softest eyes she could ever imagine and then...
Well, your glance away from her said it all. You remembered it too.
She missed you so much.
Clearing your throat, you continued. "No, no, he's still my kid. Best kid all around - and I will be biased, 'cause he's a great helper, isn't that right, Clay?"
Clay, the boy in your arms, nodded. He still glowered at the woman in front of you.
"Doesn't seem like he likes me all that much", Vi said. She shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket, and took a small step forward. Clay leaned back into you defensively, and a small arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders. Vi raised a brow at that. A curious one, rather than the usual judgemental one.
You adjusted your hold on the five year old, one hand raised to his back to keep him stable on your hip. Your other hand moved to his arm, and gently pried his hand off of your shoulder. You let him keep a hold on your hand to mess with it, an action you were used to doing by then. Over time you had found out the kid was tactile, and hated being left alone for too long.
"He doesn't trust people he doesn't know too well. Gets quiet, too. Plus you were hauled in here with a bag over your head and got tied up before Ekko found out it was you, and not some other piltie, so...", you shrugged. Vi huffed out a wry laugh.
"Figures. I wouldn't trust me either, kid", she said to Clay. Clay blinked at her, the sharpness in his eyes reducing the slightest bit.
"Vi, here, isn't like those pilties though", you said to him. "She's not like those enforcers from what happened, kiddo. Can't say much for that friend of hers, but Vi's trustworthy. You alright if I show you?"
You held out the hand he was playing with, and opened it with your palm facing up, as if you were offering your hand over to Vi. Clay glanced in between you both, and regarded Vi with a careful scrutiny. When he saw the care in your eyes, and the calmness in both of you, he quietly spoke.
" 'Think so."
"You sure?", you asked. Vi swears your voice got ten times more gentle, ten times more sweet. Although, that could be the nostalgia talking. Nonetheless, it was still there. "I don't wanna do something you're uncomfortable with, bud."
" 'M sure."
"Alright." You nodded at him, and your eyes went back to Vi. Your hand still remained outstretched towards her, a quiet beckon for her to take it into her own. Just like you've done dozens of times before this, when you were just teenagers. Just kids.
Your eyes traced over her. Took in every new scar, every new tattoo and muscle. Her hands were infinitely roughed up, even with the bandages over them. However, it was still her. Still Vi.
Your Vi.
Changes or no changes, she was still the person you grew to love years ago. And hopefully, she still understood that silent plea in your eyes to hold her hand.
Vi's eyes, the softest of powder blue, went gentle. The bags under them still sagged, but the weight of them lightened. Almost tentatively, she raised her hand to yours.
The briefest of touches, her fingertips to yours, sparked with static. Vi flinched her hand away at first, and shared a laugh with you at how sudden it was. But after that, her hand slipped right onto yours.
You squeezed her wrist, and she did the same. You turned her hand over, so that her own hand was laid out, palm up, and raised it just a bit so that Clay could see it better.
"See? She's not so bad", you mumbled. "Rough around the edges, sure, but everyone is. Vi won't hurt you, and she won't hurt me."
Clay stared at Vi's hand, and listened carefully to your words. He reached down, and placed his small hand onto the bandages covering Vi's palm.
The sleeve on his jacket rose up, showing the bandages wrapped around his own wrist. An injury from a harsh scrape he got from running away from an enforcer. By the time you and a few firelights found him, it was already infected. Luckily, back there at the Firelight's tree, there were enough antibiotics there to help. And luckily, he was healing.
Vi and Clay looked up at each other. The tension pulling at Clay's shoulders dropped some, and Vi just gave him a small nod.
"See what I mean, Clay?" Your thumb brushed against her wrist, moving slowly in a crescent shape against her skin. A habit you used to have, years ago. "She won't hurt us."
You gazed back into her eyes. Longing and love and hurt swirled behind them. Tapered down, but still there.
