series masterlist. ᭪ read on ao3.
pairing. footballplayer!vi x songwriter!reader
#chap summary. ryder huntington is the love of your life until she breaks up with you. for the past two years, she’s been your calm in the storm. the tide pulling you to the serenity of the shore. it’s always been her. yet, four months in, you receive five fatal messages putting an end to your blossoming relationship. you need time, according to her. more time to settle in your queerness. when you unleash your wrath in the dead of night, it’s not her on the other end of the line. it’s her best friend, her roommate, the lesbian everyone wants to fuck, violet vanderson.
content warnings. internalized homophobia, reader is inexperienced with women, college!au, this one is pretty warning free. a little glimpse into their dynamic.
#dykenote ◟ ྀི she’s here! i’m nervous as fuck to post this. never have i loved a project as much as i love this one. very, very excited to continue to share this one. lmk if y’all like it. happy readings angels.
messages. five notifications from ryder. 1:51 am: i love you babe but i have something to confess. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and how we want different things. part of me can’t help but feel like you’re settling. ⤿ 1:59 am: mel told me the other night how terrified you were when we first kissed. the first time you asked me out. before, i thought it was cute. i know how much you love me. fuck, i really do feel it every time we’re together. but i don’t want you to regret it. you need to go have fun, be single. you’ve only discovered what you like and i want you to be sure it’s me you see a future with. ⤿ 2:15 am: i want to be the person you see your life with but this is truly for the best. we’ll get back together once you’ve figured out exactly what you need. just for a little bit. we need this break. you deserve the queer experience, everything your heart desires. you’re still a baby gay. you need to figure yourself out. ⤿ 2:20 am: the both of us will be so much stronger because of it. i want you to have those experiences and i need to know you love me for me. not just because i’m the first. ⤿ 3:47 am: call me in the morning and we can talk. i only want the best for you. please know that.
Piltover University. Spring Semester. Year three.
5:27 am.
Each new message loads a new bullet in the chamber. Effectively shooting you in the heart as the safety is triggered. You couldn’t help yourself. The phone call made at five in the morning against your better judgement. How could she do this to you? Play your heart like it’s a toy. Some twisted game to be won with you as collateral damage.
“Ryd, you really don’t have the decency to do this in person? Telling me I need to have more experiences because I’m not gay enough? Because I’ve only now realized I like women. You know what? Fuck you. You are everything to me and you give me some shitty fucking texts to end things—”
The blood is pumping through your veins so viciously. Not for a moment do you relinquish an ounce of your terror.
“You are a goddamn coward. If you want to run, at least give me the goddamn respect I deserve and tell me to my face. Feeding me nonsense on how straight I’ve lived my live. I’m goddamn gay. Why would I possibly regret any of this? Regret you? Don’t make me as an excuse. If you want leave? Be gone then. Really Ryd, tell me who the fuck she is? There has to be someone else for you to act like a goddamn idiot.”
Inadequate silence punctures the space between your ribs as you wait for her to speak with whatever dignity she has left. Ready for her to split you open, bared seeds for her flesh to sink into, tailor-made for her to obtain.
Possessively cruel, Ryder Huntington, the goalie who captured everyone’s hearts. Instead of feeling free, your heart is captured in a cage. With her name written all over it. Beady eyes watching as you try to pick the lock. A sunflower basking in the sun shifting to her insecurities illuminated by the moon.
Is she right? Are you biting off more than you can chew?
The same woman you couldn’t help but fall for when she kissed you on New Years Eve underneath the first snowfall of winter. The most romantic moment in memory. All the pining, the tension, the coffee dates you imagined to be nothing more than friendly occurrences with an underlying hope.
This was it.
You’re supposed to get the girl. Ryder is yours and somehow, you still managed to lose her.
“Fuck, Ryd really made a mess of you, huh?” But it isn’t her. No— shit — it’s not—
Oh, fuck me. V.
“Where is she?” You’re seething, molars dig into your gums, the muscle in your jaw twitching in desperation. “Put her on the phone.”
“No can do, princess. She left this morning for her workout.” There’s a crunch on the other line. Her perfectly aligned teeth craving edges in the green apples she loves so much. “Surprised you want to get a hold of her. Doesn’t seem like the two of you are in good spirits.”
You didn’t really know how to feel about her. Mouth sharp as knives, her big-blue eyes subconsciously begging, the inked-art on her back you’ve only seen glimpses of. The one on her neck you think about tracing with your tongue in your dreams.
She’s beautiful, that’s obvious, anyone on campus could tell you that. More striking than her vibrant hair, or the way a few lone pieces jaggedly cut to create her messy, half-brazen mullet. The piercings on her face, the hoop looping through her hose, the two silver gems accentuating her eyebrow.
And the most noticeable, the one that catches your eyes, a black ball pierced through the skilled-muscle in her mouth. Contrasting against her pink tongue as she plays with it in concentration. Making you curse the gods above for making her so goddamn enchanting.
Above everything else, she’s an athlete, top of her game on and off the field. Without even blinking, V can have whoever she likes. Man or woman but she sticks to the latter. Universally adored, and to make matters worse, you see her constantly.
The roommate of your girlfriend, the captain of the football team — you can’t escape her — and it’s puzzling why she’s the one who seems to evade your attention. When you’re alone, V turns on the heat. Flirting in passing so she can make you squirm but not going too far where it could mean anything.
A simple shrug off when you try to address it. The woman on the other end is simply a puzzle you can’t walk away from. Her presence in your life is more prominent than it’s ever been.
In the third year of university, Ryder and her share an apartment across campus. The rent is stupidly expensive and with them both being here on scholarships, neither one of them could afford it alone. A means of financial convenience. Ryder and V have been thick as thieves from second year and they never fight. Almost to a point it’s annoying.
Somehow without trying, she ends up in the middle of your relationship. Petty fights Ryder sometimes draws and then her input is somehow needed. Vanderson has the heart to dismiss herself and that only pisses Ryd off even more. All her anger amounts to a slammed front door; never failing to make you flinch.
Today is just another example of how she unknowingly putting herself in the crossfire.
What's even more embarrassing is this isn’t the most compromising phone call you’ve been in with Vi on the other end. You imagined what she was like as a child — rebellious, troublesome, and with a heart too big for her own good. Even though she does her best to disguise it under her senseless flirting.
Until hallucinations of her love materializes and you can’t endure the idea of her her heart fluttering in tandem with your own.
It’s all a facade. And you see right through her. You have to.
“I knew you would cover for her.” You puff out — you can’t leave and pound on their door and you certainly have way too much pride to even let Ryder think she has that much power over you.
It seems she thinks there’s already too much of a power dynamic hovering over you two. Some weighted blanket threatening to suffocate you both, the dead of night cursing your name on her tongue.
“M’not, princess. She won’t be back for a couple of hours.”
“You are insufferable, Vanderson.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a breath as you try to muster up an ounce of patience.
“Don’t talk dirty to me. You know what that does to me, princess.”
Effortlessly, heat crawls from your chest and flutters on your cheeks and her smirk reaches into your candlelight room. “I do no—”
“But you could find out.” The grin she’s no doubt sporting can be seen through the phone. You’re imagining the high raised eyebrow with the scar you wonder how she got, her picking at the hoop pierced through her nose, or how her calloused fingertips smooth over the gem on her eyebrow piercing when she’s slightly nervous.
You blink yourself out of the pink-haired, lesbian induced daydream.
“I love how quick you are to pick at the dead carcass of my relationship. Really V, it’s so flattering on you.” You’re about to hang up but she says something you’re not expecting.
“Wait— I have an idea.” She takes a beat as you wait for her to finish. Stutters of heavy breath come through the speaker, a single moment is given to appreciate the hitch of her apprehension before she says your name.
“Vanderson.” You repeat back to her. She laughs and for a moment you think it’s an alternate reality where this can happen.
“Look, I could withhold some information. Not tell her you called. But some advice? If you want her back, you have to play it cool. Act like you don’t give a fuck even when you do. Fuck another girl, go on a date at least, show her you’re not disposable.”
“That’s exactly what she wants! I want her, V.”
“Trust me. I know how Ryd works. If she sees you with someone else, she’s not going to be able to stomach it. Even if she hears about it, fuck, that shit would make me sick.” You want to ask why but you press your lips together in a fine line. “Ryd might think she wants this. She’ll crack as soon as she hears about you with someone else.”
She’s kind enough to let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. Digest the information she gives but the more you think about it, the more terrifying it seems — talking to other women who aren’t Ryder.
“You could be my someone else.” You say the words before thinking. Panicking in an instant, you end the call immediately too scorned to face her self-assured reaction. It would make you sick.
Two seconds later there’s a buzz in your pocket. You have a feeling she must have ditched Ryder’s phone for her own.
new message. v: you’re going to need more practice if that’s how you react when you flirt with another girl. ⤿ i wasn’t flirting.
You want to scold the rise of heat in your cheeks. It’s out of bounds. Unexpectedly embarrassing. Riveting to your very core.
v: sure princess. it’s okay if you were. being a single woman and all. you’re allowed. maybe you should. just not with me. it could be good for you. to put yourself out there, it wouldn’t hurt. you could even get fucked by someone. live a little. ⤿ but not by you?
She takes longer to reply. You’ve struck a nerve you weren’t even aware existed. Even if you had stayed on the phone a moment longer, you wonder how she would have reacted. For the sake of dignity, you can’t help but conjure endless capabilities, wrapping around you in a kaleidoscope full of red-violets.
v: not with me. she’s my roommate and teammate in case you’ve forgotten. someone though. v: i’m sure you’ll find it easy. a horny woman won’t be that hard to find especially when you’re this beautiful. go to the lacrosse party after game. abby’s mansion on the hill. you’ll have a whole roster to choose from. win or lose, half of the team will need someone to fuck. ⤿ good idea, v. thanks.
She hearts the message. It should have been the end. Vi had given you solid advice to get your girl. The love of your life — it’s all you craved — but you feel a tug at your chest. Reading over the compliment like it’s sacred scripture. Until each letter is engraved in the depths of your mind. Creating a labyrinth you want to give her the guide for.
The ground beneath you rings and rings and rings. It’s disastrous. You can’t escape her voice in the fortress of her smile. Taunting you with every last breath.
Especially when you’re this beautiful.
You take it as fact but the compliment seems more suited to the Vandersons of the world. Fluttering eyelashes making a joker out of a queen. Stealing hearts one ache at a time — ready to give the fatale finality of a deep cut.
᭪ next chapter.
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