Hello!! Im thinking about a vi x reader, where we can see a more shy, and bashful side of violet through her tough persona. Some friends to lovers in there would also be cute…
It could be pure fluff, fluff with smut, angst, really whatever you feel like writing!!
- A
content // friends to lovers , post caitvi breakup , pitfighting and drinking mentioned , care taking sweetheart!reader , protective!vi , reader is a little sensitive :c , crying , injuries mentioned , hurt-comfort , fluff and smut , fingering , strap , virginity loss , virgin! reader ~ 1.6k words
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI was comfortable around you, you were the one person that didn’t judge her for being the way she was. Whenever things got hard, things got overwhelming, she ran to you. It was obvious to you that you were her comfort person.
You didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry, am I burdening you?” She asked in a voice that didn’t even sound like her, soft and worried like she might pressure you to take care of her when she’s this vulnerable.
You just pulled her deeper into your embrace and whispered, “never say that, you could never be a burden to me.”
That’s when Vi fell for you, maybe.
Because there just had been way too many instances she could have fallen—like all those times you didn’t ask her how she got hurt and instead focused on making sure she got better, like that time you didn’t judge her for going back to Caitlyn just to get her heart broken. You never judged her, never made her feel like she was somehow broken as a human being.
She felt seen. She felt loved when she was with you.
And she wanted to be with you for the rest of her life, but she didn’t know if this was… love beyond friendship.
She’d already struggled so much in her love life before, it felt like the universe just had to take anyone she loved dearly away from her, and the thought of exposing you to the dangers of being her partner was what terrified her and kept her awake at night.
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI was drifting around so much after her breakup, you felt pity but pity wasn’t what made you approach her during training one day, and asked, “do you wanna move in with me?”
At first, she wanted to decline you right there on the spot. Not because she didn’t need a decent place to crash. But because she felt like it was entirely sympathy that made you offer her that and she wasn’t about to take advantage of her best friend.
But that’s when she saw the look in your eyes—genuine concern. And that was something Vi hadn’t seen directed towards herself in a while.
So she nodded.
Even that was hard.
It was like she was accepting defeat in her own newfound incompetence after the breakup. How was she so weak? It didn’t occur to her that she just needed to let her emotions show until she finally did move in with you.
You healed her in ways you didn’t know. You healed wounds Vi herself didn’t know existed.
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI was always shocked every time you did something for her. Like she wasn’t used to the idea of someone taking care of her or simply coexisting in her space and making living easier for her.
You didn’t urge her to stop pitfighting.
You didn’t ask her to stop drinking her days away.
You stayed by her, helped her through the worst of the hangovers and bandaged her knuckles when she came back with them split open, caked with blood. Not once did you make a face when she felt too drained to take a shower.
You were gentle, but that didn’t mean you just stayed by and never did anything.
You hand washed her clothes to get rid of the blood stains and sweat stains some days. You made so much out of so little because even if you weren’t the richest woman in Zaun, you had a big heart.
And that made everything count a hundred times more.
You made her homemade meals, you listened to her go on and on about how great Caitlyn was when she got sappy and drunk. You held her through every hardship she was faced with.
Almost as if she wasn’t alone.
Almost like you were promising her a lifetime of companionship.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it.” You said, passing her a glass of water, “but eventually, you’ll pick up the pieces of yourself and you’ll learn to move on. The only way to get rid of grief is to grieve.”
Vi looked at you, her blue eyes already collecting with fresh hot tears. “Why are you so nice to me?”
You smiled slightly. “You’re my…”
“Friend” sounded like it would undermine her importance in your life at the moment so you took a deep and breath and continued—
“You’re someone really important to me. And I care about you.”
Those words made a different kind of change.
The kind of change that helped a person heal.
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI fell in love slowly. It wasn’t one day of dramatic realisation. It was when she caught herself doing things for you…
Getting you flowers randomly. Telling you how beautiful you look. Holding your hand when you both are walking the streets.
The drinking slowly stopped. She started sitting with you more during meals.
She started caring for you back.
Not because she felt like she owed it to you.
But because she was falling in love.
She could be herself—the sweet, broken, shy girl deep down that she was but never showed anyone else in fear of rejection.
But it was like you saw right through her even before she initiated acting like how she felt. You made her feel loved and cared for.
Vi couldn’t see a future that didn’t include you anymore.
You became a big part of her life.
She spent time in getting to know you even better—your favourite color, favourite food, the way you nervously played with your hair when you got a little shy, the way you listened to hopeless love songs when you cooked, the way you were a little sensitive to the usual gruff nature of Zaun’s people.
And Vi knew she couldn’t take you away from all the roughness the world offered to people who lived in the Undercity.
But she could make it easier.
She longed for you, she longed to make you the happiest woman on the planet.
She didn’t need you to reciprocate romantic feelings because in her heart it was enough to know she was in love with someone who had a good heart and cared about her.
But the idea of rejection still stung.
She was still raw after everything she’d been through.
So she took her time.
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI knocked the lights out of some guy that dared touch you inappropriately. This wasn’t a new occurrence but Vi losing her temper like that was new. So when you were finally in the confines of your living room, you asked her, “are you okay?”
Vi nodded, eyes set on the way your hands gently cradled her injured fist.
“Does it hurt?” You asked, dabbing at the wound with disinfectant—as if you weren’t aware she’d taken worse injuries.
Vi didn’t say anything. She just stared quietly at the way you gently patched her up.
“Why?” she then blurted.
You blinked. “Huh?”
“Why do you care so much? I’m just—I’m—”
“Because you matter.” You said gently, “I don’t know what you see every time you look in the mirror, Vi, but I see someone who’s been too strong for too long, and you need to break down every once a while,” you cupped the side of her face. “You’re only human, too.”
Vi swallowed thickly.
She didn’t know why, she leaned closer and pressed her lips to yours. She genuinely thought you’d push her away.
But you didn’t.
You closed your eyes and let her kiss you. Your hands braced on her shoulders as you kissed her back. You held her like she mattered. Like you weren’t just going to take advantage of her. Vi didn’t realise when she’d started crying.
Not sobbing. Just a few silent tears that escaped her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks as she kissed you.
Her feelings for you overwhelmed her in the best way.
౨ৎ BEST FRIEND!VI was genuinely so shocked and honoured when you said you would let her take your virginity. She gently fingered you open first just so you don’t feel too much pain when she fucked you when her strap.
“Does that feel good? Let me know if it’s too much.” She muttered, her voice filled with love and care.
Her fingers worked in your pussy, curling and twisting as she toyed with your sweet spot. Your face was buried in the crook of her neck, your moans muffled by her skin.
“You’re gonna make a mess on my fingers, cupcake?”
“Stop… you’re so embarrassing.” You said, cheeks bright red.
“You wanted this…”
“Then just fuck me…”
She kissed your forehead and moved down, lips leaving a trail of kisses on the expanse of your chest and collarbones.
“You feel like heaven on my fingers.”
Her words weren’t doing you much good. You were so wet that it was genuinely embarrassing. You were moving on her hand, grinding down, chasing the friction of her fingers inside you—until suddenly she switched her fingers for her strap.
First the head of the toy pressed against your tight opening, and you thought it wouldn’t fit until it slid in with a slight wet “pop”, burying in all the way until all of the length was in you.
You gasped, “w-wait, it hurts a little.”
Vi paused instantly, eyes slightly wide, and filled with concern—did she hurt you? That was her worst fear.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” you wrapped your arms around Vi, “please… keep going.”
Vi’s hands were braced on either side of your head, her hips moving back and forth as she slid in and out of you with ease, thanks to your arousal. You clenched tightly around her, the stretch providing a burning pleasure you’d never felt before.
“Good job, baby, you’re taking me so well,” she whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead as she buried herself to the hilt.
You gasped and came with a cry of pleasure, liquids dripping alongside the sides of the toy. Your clit throbbed with need.
And although you never expected to hear yourself say this, you did;
𓂅 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : being married to a firefighter isn’t easy, the constant stress and worry that they won’t make it home is enough to drive anyone up the wall, today you find out exactly why that is ꣖ queue in the world’s most dreaded phone call ꣓
content warnings ✷ pairing : firefighter ! vi 𝔁 fem doctor wife ! reader ; minor angst ; fire related injuries ꣖ crush injuries ꣓ ; hospitals and mentions of surgery ; fluffy fluff ; 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 𝟏.𝟗𝟓𝟓 𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ;
꣖ ⛑ ゛ 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 ‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥’ 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥’, the one where captain vander— vi’s boss— calls your line, and asks, in the calmest voice that he could possibly muster in a situation like this: “am i speaking with violet’s wife?” knowing damn well that he is, only to proceed with the typical safety check bullshit questionnaire, the one where he asks if you’re alone or driving, a tell-tale sign that you’re about to receive bad news, bad news regarding the most important person in your life.
you tell him in a choked up voice that you’re not driving and that you’re not alone— being at work is not alone, right? you have plenty of people around you, it didn’t matter, because you didn’t have time to get caught up in the semantics of safety check protocol, not now, not when you needed to know what was wrong with your wife. you needed to know if vi was okay, you needed to know if she was alive, if she was breathing, if today would be the last time you ever got a call saying that she’s injured, or worse…
you can hear captain vander prepping his voice on the other side of the call, clearing his throat and breathing hard through his nose, the dual combination of sound told you that he, himself was getting caught up in his head, that remaining impartial and stoic and following proper procedure was almost as painful for him as it was for you. it’s never easy when a firefighter is down, it’s harder when it’s your favourite. “this is deputy chief vander from station 19.” he continues, following protocol to a t, maybe because it was the only thing he could do at the moment, but the waiver in his voice gave him away, and it ended up making you even more worried, whatever happened was serious, whatever happened was real, whatever happened wasn’t good. “i’m calling to inform you that violet was involved in an incident during a structure fire twenty minutes ago, she’s being transported to piltover general hospital, she’s unconscious but her breathing is stable, so are her vitals” he reassures. who? you don’t know, because it’s certainly not you.
you lean back against the closest wall of the hospital that you can find, your breathing shallow and your eyes stinging with unshed tears. twenty minutes, for some reason your brain is fixated on that one detail, twenty minutes where vi has been unconscious, twenty minutes where she has been in the back of a cold ambulance, alone, possibly fighting for her life.
you feel sick.
until— the unexpected happens, you hear commotion near the main entrance of the hospital, near the er— right, you are still working, and the sick and the dying don’t wait for your internal turmoil to be over, you signed up for this after all, but it was in moments like these where you wish that you hadn’t— wait did captain vander say that vi was being transported to piltover general?— you walk towards the scene in quick, rapid steps, only to be met with hot pink hair and pale skin laying flat on a gurney.
vi, your vi.
you feel your heart stop and everything resembling heat leaving your body when you see her, laying down like a patient because that was what she was— a patient, someone who’s hurt, someone who had the possibility of not walking out of the front door with her life intact, but she wasn’t just someone she was your someone, and that detail alone rendered your brain useless and unable to process the gravity of the situation, let alone anything else, because it couldn’t possibly be true, it couldn’t possibly comprehend that the person laying on the stretcher was vi, your vi, the same vi that called you in the middle of her shift to say that she misses you, the same vi who pouts if you don’t kiss her before leaving the house— now rendered, unresponsive, in a hospital bed.
it was unthinkable.
it was too much.
so much so that you let go of whatever professionalism was still coursing through your veins and immediately make your way to her, only to be pushed back— only personnel is allowed— you argue that you are personnel only to be shut down again, you couldn’t work on family, you knew that, but the rational side of your brain was currently shut off for the moment.
hours passed while vi was in surgery— crush injuries, they said— captain vander had come in to explain it to you, explain how the roof had given out from the building she was in and how she was stuck underneath, no vital organs were damaged, that should be a comfort. but it wasn’t because she wasn’t awake, she wasn’t speaking and she still wasn’t cleared for visitors.
when the nurse finally came out of her room and started walking in your direction your knees almost gave out under you, you’re sure that if you weren’t sitting down you would be on the floor right about now. you try to focus on what the nurse is currently saying to you, you really do. but it’s like you have earmuffs covering your ears and you’re only able to string together bits and pieces of her dialogue. “the surgery went well, we have violet stabilised in her room…” but you’re more interested in the next thing that comes out of her mouth. “she hasn’t woken up from surgery yet, but she has been cleared for visitors.”
you rush down the hall and immediately open the door of the antiseptic smelling-like room, getting in quickly and closing the door behind you only to be met with the pale, beat up image of your wife.
you feel tears start to well up in your eyes, again, you hated seeing her like this, so unresponsive, so fragile, so vulnerable. you pull out a plastic chair from the side of the room and sit next to the hospital bed, her hospital bed, grabbing her hand and stroking your fingers over the callouses of her otherwise soft skin, you pull her hand to your lips and press a feather light kiss against each of her knuckles.
“hey… cupcake don’t you think it’s a little bit unprofessional to be kissing your unconscious patients like that?” vi’s otherwise playful voice sounds out, startling you in the process— vi’s voice… she’s awake!— so much so that you let go of her hand, which causes her to let out a discontented grunt from her chapped lips.
you roll your eyes affectionately at her joke, only to stop yourself from crying further, deciding instead to debate her previous statement, just to fill in the silence. “i wasn’t kissing you, you asshole.” you rebuke. “and you’re not my patient.”
vi rolls her eyes right back at you, before hitting her chest in a mock offended way. “still counts.” she debates, moving to sit up, in order to be able to argue with you properly, only to plop back down on the stretcher, her body burning with pain. “ouch, I feel like i got run over by a firetruck.” she plays it off, laughing— painfully, but you know better.
“worse.” you remind her.
vi splutters. “yea, yea, sure feels like it.” she groans, moving her arm up to cover her eyes only to be met with more pain, from her harsh movements.
you can’t take it, seeing her being so careless, even now, while laying in a stretcher, bruised, burned and beaten. “what is wrong with you?” you snap, but your voice is wavering and your eyes are filled with unspilled tears, your head or your heart are working overtime due to the fact that she could’ve died but is now awake— utterly unable to process whether to be relieved at her unbelievable luck or angry at her unbearable stupidity.
“what do you mean, baby?” vi asks back, turning her head in your direction, her movements stiff, due to the heavy cocktail of pain relief medication and left over pain she’s currently on.
“you’re so stupid, you could have died, do you know that and then what?” you argue or rather cry out, your eyes stinging with tears that are threatening to come out and make their way down your cheeks. “i hate you.” a lie, and you had the waterworks to prove it.
vi only manages a smile at your outburst, loving and sweet, god she’s infuriating. “i love you too.” she rebukes, like she hadn’t heard a word of what you just said. “you know that?” she continues. “more than anything in this world.”
you don’t respond, you can’t, too fixated on her forehead, specially on the crease in between her eyebrows— a tell-tale sign that she’s downplaying the amount of pain that she’s currently on— in order to prevent yourself from crying— it isn’t working.
vi frowns, and grabs your hand, running her mouth over your knuckles the way you had done earlier to her unconscious form. “i’m. sorry. baby. it. won’t. happen. again.” she punctuates each word with a kiss on your skin.
“no you’re not, and yes it will.” you admonish, because of course it will, vi wasn’t the kind of person to run away from danger to save her own skin, it was what had attracted you to her in the first place, how selfless she was, how inclined she was to to the right thing, what you hadn’t taken into account was how hard it would be to be in a long term relationship with someone like that, the constant worry, the phone calls saying she’s been injured and is currently fighting for her life.
“come here.” vi commands, voice impossibly soft while patting the space next to her on the hospital bed.
you almost go to her, out of reflex more than anything else, before remembering the state that she’s currently in. “you’re hurt.” you point out, looking at her defiantly, but the look on your wife’s face tells you that it’s not coming across as you had anticipated.
“i’m fine.” she reassures, liar.
“you’re not.”
“cupcake.” vi says, in that strong, grave voice of hers, the one that leaves no room for argument. “come keep me company.” she says, again, her light coloured eyes trained on your figure, defiant as ever, even after surgery, she was still the most stubborn woman in all of zaun and possibly the world.
you move to the right side of the hospital bed, accessing her injuries and deciding that that was her safest side— or at least the side that was less damaged, and lay down next to her, careful not to put too much pressure on her tender skin, but once you do, once you feel her body against your own, it’s like all your defences shatter and your walls fall down, because she was here, she was okay. you swallow down hard but that doesn’t stop the tears from flowing down free from your eyes to your cheeks. “i was so scared.” you confess, your voice small and vulnerable before hiding your tear stained face in the crook of her neck.
vi smiles, sadly, she hates seeing you upset, especially over her, the corners of her mouth turning up almost imperceptibly while her calloused hands move on top of your head. “i know.” she reassures. “but you’re strong, okay? you are a superstar.”
that makes you laugh. “no, i’m not.” you argue— you don’t feel super right now— before returning your face to its rightful spot on vi’s marred skin.
“yes, you are.” vi debates, before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “you’re my superstar, you know that?” she asks, her voice soft with just a touch of playfulness, now she was sounding more like herself.
“still hate you.” You huff out, clinging to her like she was about to disappear on you.
vi laughs, throwing her head back and everything. “and I still love you, superstar.” she says again, like it was the truest thing in the world, maybe it was. “more than anything, i wasn’t lying about that.” she speaks into your skin.
“i love you too.” you tell her verbally, for the first time today.
“i know.” vi whispers in your ear, her fingers still moving on top of your head, because she knew you did, of course you did, you don’t cry over people you hate being in a hospital bed, fighting for their life.
can we PRETTY PLUEASE get a longer version of this https://www.tumblr.com/sevikasthrouple/785745106219188224/pussy-drunk%E3%83%8Edrabble-strap-pussy-drunkvi-vi?source=share
its okay if not
┆ ⤿ PUSSY DRUNK (EXTENDED) ♡⸝⸝
— drabble that inspired this fic
Strap, pussy drunk!Vi, Vi is a whiny top, experienced!reader, subtop!Vi (?), lots of praising, oral, perverted!Vi, pet names !
— Synopsis: Vi wants to feel your pussy skin-to-skin and the strap doesn't quench that thirst.
"Baby, you're so warm and tight," Vi commented as she slowly sunk her strap inside your cunt.
You laid on the bed with your legs sprawled out, fixing Vi with a half-lidded eyed gaze.
"Vi, it's not real," you replied, voice low and sleepy almost.
You weren't new to sex, but Vi sure was. Not all that new, but this was definitely her first time fucking someone more experienced than her causing her to feel puppy-like almost. Compared to your energy and aura, she was nothing. Yet, Vi insisted she took charge in the bedroom. It was laughable but you decided to give it a go. Vi let out a shuddering sigh before she buried the cock inside all the way, her own breath hitching in her throat.
"You okay?"
"You're tight," she repeated.
You rolled your eyes and held her muscular shoulders, pulling her closer to yourself, "C'mon, baby, thrust already," you whispered encouragingly.
She was nervous.
Vi blushed, a little embarrassed— but she pushed through and started moving her hips slowly. The strap was a bit bigger than you'd anticipated, your hand tangled in the sheets and teeth clenched. Your mouth opened slightly, and you let out a small moan that caused Vi's confidence to inflate. She pulled back and pushed the strap back inside with more efficiency, letting the ridges slide deliciously against your gummy walls.
Your pussy clenched around the invading toy, "It's big, it's— mmm..."
"Oh, yeah?" Vi's eyes squeezed shut.
"Are you okay?" You asked, a little concerned, but your mind was too clouded with lust to actually care.
"Yeah," Vi huffed a breath, "Your pussy is so pretty, I need... I need to feel it. I need more."
Vi glanced down, your clit throbbing as she stretched out your beautiful pussy using her strap. The thick girthy pink strap disappeared all the way inside your pussy. The stretch, the swelling of your clit, the throbbing, the clenching, the schlik schlik sounds. It was all too much.
Vi couldn't anymore. She just couldn't.
Your eyes flew open when she yanked her hips back, suddenly leaving your pussy all empty. Your brows furrowed.
"Vi, wha—!" Your breath caught in your throat when she threw her strap across the room, your slick dripping off the toy and she stuffed her face straight into your pussy. You gasped, hips bucking. "Vi!"
Vi didn't answer.
She just wanted to feel you against her. "You smell so good," she said instead, sniffing in your musky scent.
It was your turn to blush, you looked away, "Vi, you're such a pervert..."
Vi giggled although she was still dazed by your cunt, she licked a bold stripe up your pussy, smirking at the taste. "You're so sweet for me," she whispered. "Your pussy is so pretty, baby. All pretty for me," she cooed, her fingers spreading your pussy lips out, smiling and spreading out your folds, giving your vulva a very sensual massage.
"Vi," you stuttered, "Don't do that," you mumbled, trying to squirm away.
"Why, baby? You feel so good against me," she whispered before she captured your clit in her mouth, giving the nub a soft suck, her tongue swirling around it.
"Feels too good," you writhed under her, unable to keep your body still.
Vi's fingers found your clit, slowly easing inside your hole and rubbing against your inner walls. She was enjoying this way more than the strap now that she got to feel the way your pussy clenched around herself. The strap just wasn't enough, she needed more. Vi's desires for you ran deep in her blood, insatiable— leaving her own pussy a sticky, hot mess for you.
"Fuuuuck," she dragged out.
Her two digits stuck knuckles-deep inside your pussy and curling against your g-spot causing you to moan and raise your hips.
You ground down against her fingers trying to get as much friction to your heat as possible, your hips shuddering every now and then from the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to envelope your entire being. Your head pressed deeper into the pillows, and your hands desperately grabbed and whatever surrounded you— your left hand holding Vi's hair and right hand holding the sheets.
Sure, you had plenty of experience having sex but not once has someone eaten you out with such need, such desperation as if your pussy was their last meal. No one had bothered to get so messy just to get a taste of your pussy. Your cunt throbbed, globs of arousal seeping onto Vi's eager fingers.
She glanced at you just to ensure you were enjoying it too, because you'd gone quiet. You'd gone quiet because the pleasure was simply too overwhelming and now stringing two words together was harder than ever.
Vi's hair was messy, sticking to her forehead in sweaty tufts but she didn't care. She didn't care to get messy having her favourite meal. She gave you a rather devilish smirk before she paced up, her fingers moving quicker and harder. Her tongue darted out, swiping over your clit causing a loud "Oh!" To leave your mouth.
Suddenly— she sighed.
"I can't, sweetheart, I can't," Vi removed her fingers too making you huff a little.
"Vi!" You began but your reprimanding intentions melted away the moment you felt her tongue enter your slit.
She lapped up your juices hungrily, eyeing you with such desire you'd never seen in anyone's eyes before. She shifted your legs upto her shoulders as she continued letting her tongue dance about your pussy. Your legs tightened around her neck.
"I'm close," you muttered and Vi gave you subtle nod.
"I know, princess, I know," she said before she slurped on you. Loud and wet.
The knot in your tummy coiled and coiled until it snapped, your eyes flew open, body locking up and arched into Vi's mouth.
"I'm cumming," you mouthed, but no sound came out as your liquids travelled down her chin and in her mouth.
Vi groaned at the taste, lapping up hungrily at your pussy, sucking loud and harshly. She was sloppy with her movements— desperate honestly. She looked at you with puppy eyes.
SUGAR BABY!VI is definitely shy about using your money but all that shyness gets tossed out the window when she’s riding your strap. The big silicone dick causes an obscene imprint on her toned lower abdomen as she grinds down on it. Every time she comes down, her beautiful pierced tits bounce softly. You watch her riding you with such enthusiasm, like she’s trying to make up for the amount of money she spent on your card earlier that day. It’s not like you ask her to do this. She does it herself and that’s the best part of this arrangement. She’s not some damsel in distress being forced to do this, she’s simply a slut for you.
SUGAR BABY!VI who sends you the sluttiest pictures when you’re at work. She gets back home from the gym, she’s covered in sweat and her tank top sticks to every ridge of muscle on her torso. That’s when she gets the bright idea of taking a mirror selfie, sending it to you with zero warning. Maybe she’ll even get in the shower, and have her fun in there, rubbing her engorged clit to perverted fantasies of you she makes up in her head—then she sends you yet another picture and this one is her being naked with nothing but a towel around her waist.
vi meets your parents for the first time feat. powder╱ sfw: modern au, established relationship, reader has a young sister, just fluff
a/n: dedicated to ky @asapcity and based on her request
Vi had been sitting frozen in her car a few blocks away from your house for about ten minutes, staring blankly ahead as she tried to fight off the nerves eating her alive.
Fortunately, she didn't have to face this alone since Powder was right there with her. Though, to be fair, her sister was acting more like a little devil on her shoulder than any actual emotional support.
She wasn't the type of person who scared easily, but saying she wasn't terrified of making a bad impression on your parents would be a massive lie.
“Please don't tell me you're thinking this is a bad idea,” Powder’s voice broke the silence, filling the car for the first time in ten minutes.
The pink-haired girl didn't say a word, but the look she gave her sister was enough to make the younger girl roll her eyes at the silent confession.
“Relax, sis,” Powder said, giving her a gentle shove on the shoulder. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Well...” Vi was completely ready to list every single worst-case scenario, but Powder's constant rambling cut her right off.
“We're already here, you bought her some beautiful flowers, and if we sit here any longer, we're going to be late. Now that would definitely leave a bad impression.”
She was glad to have Powder around, and even more glad that you had agreed to let her tag along. In fact, inviting Powder had been your idea in the first place, arguing that she might get along great with your sister.
On top of that, it comforted her to remember how confidently you had promised that your parents would absolutely love her.
“Okay, you're right,” she sighed. “Let's get out of here.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, though not before quickly fixing her hair in the rearview mirror.
Her hand trembled slightly as her fingers pressed the doorbell. She shot one last desperate look toward her sister for help, but Powder just gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.
After a few seconds of waiting, the door swung open to reveal a girl younger than you, who looked to be around Powder's age.
“Hi, I'm...”
“Vi, I know. You're pretty famous around here,” she interrupted.
Your sister called out, shouting your name to announce that your girlfriend had finally arrived. A second later, hurried footsteps echoed from the second floor, and you came running down stairs, throwing yourself straight into Vi’s arms.
She wrapped her arms around your lower back, accidentally crushing the flowers a bit, as you pulled her close by her neck to give her a kiss.
“You look beautiful,” she whispered the second you pulled apart.
And she wasn't lying, you looked absolutely stunning. It wasn't just because you had dressed up for the special occasion; to Vi, you always looked perfect.
Even after all the time you had been together, you couldn't help but blush, feeling just like you did back when your hands had brushed against each other by accident for the very first time.
“Thanks. You look great too,” you replied.
Your younger sisters exchanged looks and, almost by instinct, began making childish, disgusted faces at the two of you.
“Get a room!” Powder called out.
“Grow up!” Vi snapped back, which only made you laugh.
You apologized to the younger girls for not introducing them sooner, so you quickly did the honors. They greeted each other in the most awkward way possible, looking exactly like the teenagers forced to socialize that they were.
It wasn't long before your parents joined everyone, warmly greeting the sisters and saying how happy they were to finally meet them.
Everyone headed into the kitchen, sitting down to enjoy Vi's favorite dish, which your parents had made absolutely sure to cook after asking you at least three times what she liked.
The two of you sat right next to each other, a perfect spot that allowed you to squeeze Vi's hand whenever she started looking too nervous under your parents' questioning. It was also the perfect angle for Vi to kick Powder under the table whenever she said something totally out of line in front of her in-laws.
“So, Vi...” your mother began, “I heard you're in a band, is that right?”
Vi nearly choked on her bite of food.
“Yes, that's right. I play guitar,” she answered as politely as possible.
Your parents showed genuine interest in both Vi and Powder, asking questions about their hobbies, their family, and their plans for the future—even though you had already filled them in on everything beforehand.
Amid the small talk and laughter, the conversation eventually drifted to music. That was the exact moment your sister and Powder discovered they had almost identical tastes. Their eyes completely lit up when they mentioned an indie artist that apparently only the two of them had ever heard of.
Once everyone finished eating, Vi insisted on helping to clear the table and wash the dishes, but your parents were even more stubborn, firmly insisting that she didn't need to lift a finger.
“I can't believe you were actually that nervous about this,” you said, finally having some quiet time alone together in your bedroom.
She was lying back on your bed with her arms crossed behind her head, while you searched for the perfect spot to place the vase with the flowers she had brought you. In the background, you could hear the muffled music drifting from your sister's room, where she and Powder were hanging out.
“I don't know, I just really didn't want your parents to hate me and forbid you from ever seeing me again.”
“A forbidden romance... sounds kind of exciting,” you teased.
Vi laughed, and before she could reply, you playfully flopped onto the bed, knocking the wind out of her as you rested your weight against her chest. You planted a soft kiss on her cheek while she playfully pretended to push you away—though you both knew that was the last thing she actually wanted.
“The worst part is over,” you reassured her, getting comfortable against her chest. “My parents absolutely adore you, and our sisters actually seem to be getting along.”
Vi pulled you even closer, as if that were humanly possible, while her fingers traced gentle circles on your shoulder.
“You're right, the worst is over,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
