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kamaluhkhan · 1 month ago

Text

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.”

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall.

11:09am.

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play.

“that was before.”

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.”

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.”

───── ��☆⋆ ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp.

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together.

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways.

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?”

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.”

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.”

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones.

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior.

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black.

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.”

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm.

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel.

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook.

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name.

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?”

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.”

“so….where do i fit in?”

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.”

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases.

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?”

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself.

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday.

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in.

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed.

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.”

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note.

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips.

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.”

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions.

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay.

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!”

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….”

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need.

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you.

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else.

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore.

you’re a friend.

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on.

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals.

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly.

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods.

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol.

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.”

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!”

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.”

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.”

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.”

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck.

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know.

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?”

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.”

you cheers, keeping eye contact.

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.”

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.”

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum.

“lucky her.”

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink.

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud?

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods.

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.”

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.”

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.”

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right?

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are

v ⚽️

pls u love it

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?”

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor.

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight.

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt.

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking.

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look.

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee.

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.”

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.”

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer.

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class.

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible.

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance.

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide.

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.”

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints.

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles.

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum?

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again.

nice, but different.

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice.

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too.

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.”

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

“f-fuck,” vi groans.

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough.

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages.

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:’ ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong.

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me??

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong.

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks.

there’s no answer.

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries.

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled.

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi?

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work.

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah.

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming.

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.”

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.”

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i —” vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening.

there.

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made.

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence.

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.”

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you.

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.”

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand.

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.”

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.”

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her.

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler.

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.”

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye.

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone.

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch.

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back.

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights.

two minutes left in overtime.

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions.

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal.

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point.

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure.

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest.

vi takes a deep breath.

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them.

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field.

and this is the winning point.

the whistle blows.

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her.

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair.

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.”

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in.

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour.

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw.

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom.

“powder!”

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!”

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds.

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you.

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady.

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life?

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white.

deep breaths.

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along.

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe.

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?”

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….”

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you.

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?"

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point.

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her.

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless.

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit.

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest.

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it.

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...."

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin.

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago.

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for.

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.”

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself.

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love.

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter.

you’re out with someone else right now.

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together?

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents.

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe.

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.”

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless.

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made.

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work.

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously.

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired.

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents.

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue.

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.”

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically.

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands.

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi.

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway.

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip.

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next.

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real.

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?”

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond.

you shake your head.

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence.

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

2K notes · View notes

alkhale · 1 year ago

Note

So happy you’ve returned thank you for coming back 💜💜💜💜💜💜

So I had a thought with that AU dark!Sabo/Ace fic you have, how would Sabo/Ace react to Law being over at Hoku’s? Like Law’s hanging out or slept over and answers Hoku’s phone for her and Sabo/Ace basically have aneurysms 😂

Basically I’m in a Law era and seeing him with Hoku is always a treat 💜

(Locked Here for Forever AU - Hoku is still currently doing the work for Sabo and Ace)

Minor Warning: Depictions of Dark!Sabo, nothing too serious, just in case you don't want to see Sabs acting... dark ;)

Sabo's gloved knuckles rasped softly against Hoku's apartment door.

The faint sound of other tenants arriving home for the night filled the air. In the distance he could absently make out the sounds of a few cars passing the neighborhood street, the too-loud laugh of a few teenagers walking past.

Sabo took a polite step back from the front door, keeping one arm folded across his chest. A hefty, sleek paper bag hung from the crook of his elbow—carefully picked take-out orders, a thoughtful range of dishes that would be easy to eat while making conversation while still meeting Sabo's own preferences for someone's nutritional intake.

Quietly, with perfect clarity, he considered the image of Hoku in his mind. His eyes traced in place of hands the shape of her curves, the brightness of her skin, the slight press of her thighs against a seat.

"You should eat more," Ace had said, watching Hoku over the tabletop of their last meal. Sabo had remembered needing to touch his shoulder, a faint warning to check his gaze. "You look skinnier."

(Ace's gaze always tended to swallow too much. He was louder about his hunger.)

"You aren't having trouble getting meals, are you?" Sabo had asked, playfully scolding like a good friend. A thoughtful friend.

Hoku, as expected, had denied all claims. I can eat plenty, she'd said. Or I can just cook more—I just get distracted or it gets a bit late...

So Sabo had suggested, as any good friend would:

"Why don't we have more meals together? It's been so long since we all got together to eat."

Ace had grinned, as though the idea were completely novel, leaning forward eagerly across the table, "We used to do it all the time! We practically always had dinner together—damn, why'd we stop?"

Quietly, on cue, a faint trickle of thoughtful guilt made its way across Hoku's expression. Sabo pretended not to see it, brows creasing as he said, "You know how it is. It can't be helped when we all get busy and have things to do... it's just nice we can all reunite together now."

Relief flashed across Hoku's face at the solution to her unknown guilt. Sabo smiled, sweet and easy as he turned to her, "Right, Hoku?"

Hoku's eyes had brightened and Sabo felt his own smile widen, a soft upturn of his lips while he lightly rubbed his gloved thumb over the top of his other hand.

"No, of course! No time better than the present... we can do something as soon as you guys are free—even on days where we don't plan it, maybe just a spontaneous thing?"

Sabo had counted an appropriate pause in his mind, finally replying, "If we can get Ace to remember, I think it'll be perfect."

"Me? What about rounding up Luffy?"

Hoku had laughed, perfectly at ease, a fluttering, hopeful little bit of excitement in her gaze.

I know, Sabo thought, consoling, it's been too long, hasn't it?

(Too long.)

Sabo stood here now, the soft beginnings of evening darkening the sky behind him as he waited in front of Hoku's apartment—the fruit of their conversation, an impromptu drop off of food. An easy, casual set-up that would lead to an expected invitation.

(Progress.)

He remained dressed in clothes similar to his usual work attire, allowing his sleeves to crease slightly and his tie to loosen just so as to appear fresh off of work. He glanced once to the sleek gold watch on his wrist, considering the current time and then lifting his eyes back to Hoku's front door.

His timing should be just right, not too early that stray errands would've kept her away from home, not too late that a full meal didn't seem unappealing—though knowing Hoku, the second option was always less of a risk since her upbringing and own politeness would force her to eat, no matter how late if he'd come all this way, especially after work... just to bring her something.

Sabo smiled, fond—endearing.

(Classic Hoku.)

He knew if Ace was here this time for this one, he might've even come later, pressing for the expected chance that Hoku's hospitality would be their chance to quietly open the door, just a bit wider. It was more than obvious she'd offer them to stay the night, especially if either he or Ace played the part of being oh so tired just a bit harder, but Sabo had known for quite some time now that they'd waited long enough.

They could wait, just a bit more.

(Cover all their bases. The result will follow.)

A second bag hung from Sabo's elbow, the familiar plastic of a convenience store bag. Two canned beers sat comfortably inside, one advertising the sweet, fruity taste of lychee while the other remained a smooth, simple brand—Sabo's usual drink wasn't the kind found at the local convenience store, but this would do.

Hoku had never been one to handle her alcohol particularly well, which was why she tended to either not drink or stick to the one's lighter in taste and content. The flip side to this, however, was that Hoku had grown up close to people who enjoyed a good drink and could hold their alcohol very well—meaning she was more than happy to entertain a sip or two and have a drink for fun.

Sabo had come to realize as well, with a bit of quiet amusement, that Hoku always seemed willing to test if her alcohol tolerance had suddenly become better overnight. She was easy enough to convince.

He gave the door another knock, a steadier sound this time, not to be missed.

An older woman entered the apartment at the end of the hall. Sabo quietly watched her lightly hit the numbers across her keypad before stepping inside. His gaze turned now to Hoku's own keypad lock, still for a moment until Sabo's gloved fingers quietly slid the lock cover upwards.

Sabo's gaze was half-lidded in thought, a lazy, casual expression settled over his face. His dark eyes remained sharp beneath the long curl of his lashes, carefully looking over each number key until he quietly made out which numbers had become more worn from clear use.

He faintly traced the pattern of these numbers, a soft, unamused hum leaving his lips when he recognized the date. His gaze darkened a bit, lightly repeating the pattern as though to key in the code himself.

The sound of footsteps finally making their way down the hallway entrance reached Sabo's ears. His fingers gently slid the keypad cover closed, quietly with the softest click. He schooled his expression into one of quaint ease, a warm smile on his lips as he heard the lock twist and the locking mechanism churn.

Hoku's front door pulled open, stopping just short of yanking the rattled door chain still in place. Sabo took note of the secondary lock for only a split second before he paused, catching himself.

Sabo's mind worked with practiced quickness, a series of short observations.

A young man he did not recognize from Hoku and Luffy's immediate circle of friends stood in Hoku's place by her door. Opening her door. He couldn't have been much older than himself or Ace—his faintly youthful complexion betrayed only by the tired lines by his eyes and the sharp line of his jaw, coupled by a neatly trimmed goatee.

He was tall, hair pitch black and skin tanned. Sabo could easily make out a well-defined build from the width of open door held by the metal chain still in place. He was roguishly handsome in a way Sabo absently thought would give a few models in his agency a run for their money—he had a good brooding face, he was sure of it.

Corded muscles flexed along this man's bicep, his arm leaning against the entryway wall as he kept the door open, regarding Sabo with an expression that looked faintly vexed—the kind a person would wear when they were a bit annoyed they had to answer the door but not so impolite to be outright rude about it. Not enough to care, however, about their slight annoyance being known.

You're imposing.

Sabo's gaze stilled.

That was a very... comfortable expression to wear. It was not the kind of face a person who was only in someone else's home for the first time or for a brief moment would make. Not unless they had Luffy's audacity to make themselves at home.

This was a man who was familiar with Hoku's home.

So familiar in fact, that he felt comfortable enough to answer her door in her place.

Familiar and careful, Sabo thought in the back of his mind, because every time Hoku had opened the door for them her door chain had never been in place.

(Careful men were dangerous.)

He was also in Hoku’s home this late into the day—his bothered expression implying he’d already been here for some time. Hoku wasn’t the type to invite new people to her home this late, it took time for her to bring people into her workspace. Her home was a place he and Ace had to tread with care—it was why their apartment was easier.

(So you’re someone Hoku is comfortable with.)

But what bothered Sabo the most, and it really only bothered him so much, was that this stranger was someone Hoku deemed close enough to allow all those things—and he was someone neither Sabo nor Ace had known of.

Sabo allowed his face to become one of curious surprise. He looked at the unknown man with a practiced, startled smile.

“Oh, hello!” Sabo said. “Are you one of Hoku’s classmates? I didn’t realize she’d have someone over!”

The dark gray eyed man blinked slowly, brows furrowing in a manner that Sabo would almost find skeptical—hmm, he felt quite familiar inside Hoku’s home, didn’t he? He seemed to be considering Sabo’s greeting and inquiry, even judging if it was truthful. But Sabo’s words meant after all that he was familiar enough with Hoku to make such a statement.

“…no,” the man said slowly—his voice was low, a husky sort of natural timbre. Sabo lightly picked at the edge of his glove. “Who are you?”

Sabo allowed his startled smile to become a curious one, polite and wide as he extended his gloved hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m one of Luffy’s brothers—Hoku’s childhood friend?”

The unfamiliar man’s expression instantly cleared with recognition. Sabo continued to smile but filed this information away with a sharp twist of his lips. The man finally extended his hand through the open gap and clasped Sabo's firmly. Sabo's eyes didn't stray from his face, but he noticed the inked tattoos from the corner of his eye.

His grip was firm. It didn't linger but it did not shy.

“You’re… Sabo,” he said finally. “Sabo, aren’t you?”

Sabo smiled, feigning pleasant surprise, “That’s me! Has Hoku introduced us before?"

"No," the man said simply. He rubbed absently at his jaw for a moment, seeming to consider his phrasing before he answered, "She mentioned reconnecting with some childhood friends. Described you before... I remember you from a few photos now."

The warmth of Hoku's actions made it easy for Sabo's smile to become a touch sweeter, a bit friendlier, though he imagined none of such feelings were meant for this man.

"I'm Law," he finally introduced, "Trafalgar Law. Just a friend of Hoku's."

Sabo lightly pulled the edge of his glove. In his mind he carefully sorted through Hoku's gallery on her social media—a man like this would've easily caught his or Ace's attention. Hoku was not one to purposefully keep people an explicit secret, but she was one to not realize certain circles of her life had never crossed.

(She was also one, Sabo remembered, silent, to wait before making certain announcements.)

"This is—"

The memory of a sheepish laugh.

"He and I decided to give dating a—"

"I see! It's nice to meet you Law," Sabo said brightly. "Is Hoku home? She didn't mention going anywhere..."

Law half-glanced over his shoulder, back deeper into the apartment. "She's home. She didn't mention expecting anyone to stop by."

He said it casually, clear without any malice, simply just to inform Sabo of what he knew. It only bothered Sabo, really, that he was able to piece together a few more things about Law from this statement alone.

Law was here on a planned occasion. Most likely he was expected to be here for some time.

"No, that makes sense," Sabo said with a cheerful laugh. He motioned to the bags strewn over his arm and Law glanced briefly to it. "I was stopping by after to work because I figured she'd be home."

Law made a noise in the back of his throat that meant he understood. His gaze flickered back up to Sabo, "Just dropping this off?"

(Hah.)

Sabo smiled smoothly. "If it's a bad time? I was hoping to see her for a second."

Law seemed to consider his answer, briefly glancing once more over his shoulder back into the apartment. Sabo tilted his head softly to the side, a bit of blonde curling against his cheek.

Law's fingers deftly undid the top chain. He opened the door wide enough for Sabo to enter. "She should be out of the shower in a second."

Ah.

(Telling Ace to sit this one out really was a blessing in disguise.)

"Thank you!" Sabo smiled politely. Law slightly shook his head in a no need to thank me sort of manner.

Sabo carefully adjusted the bags over his elbow, taking a moment to himself before he casually stepped into Hoku's genkan. Law closed the door behind him, locking and bolting the door. Sabo made a point to slip off his shoes with practiced familiarity, opening Hoku's small shoe closet to place them inside instead of just leaving them in the entryway.

(He was not a new guest.)

He noticed the unfamiliar pair of dark loafers sitting beside her worn sneakers. Sabo lightly placed his own shoes between the two of them, softly closing the closet.

"I'll go set this down in the kitchen," Sabo said casually, only half turning over his shoulder. He saw Law nod, simply following behind Sabo as the two of them stepped into Hoku's living room.

Sabo kept his gaze forward, allowing his expression to settle into a simple, thin line as his eyes deftly glanced about Hoku's home. His feet carried him toward her kitchen without needed guidance.

The first thing he noticed was the television on—some kind of show for easy background noise based on the fact that neither of the two people currently in this apartment were sitting to watch. A blanket was tossed hazardously over one arm of the couch, discarded casually by Hoku, he pieced. Two mugs and a set of papers and folders were laid neatly across her table, standing out starkly compared to Hoku's scattered pages and texts—these most likely belonged to the man behind Sabo, though he couldn't make out their contents.

Sabo could hear water running down the hall as he stepped into Hoku's small, cozy little kitchen. Cozy was being kind, he supposed, but Hoku woud not allow him to think otherwise. He kept his mind focused on the task at hand. For the best, Sabo thought, since the sound of running water was only getting louder in the back of his mind, grating on his ears in this occasion where it should've been teasingly soft.

("She's in the shower.")

Law stepped into the kitchen behind him, drifting to the countertop while Sabo began to carefully set his bags down on Hoku's little dining table.

Sabo had already gauged Law was not the particularly talkative type. He smiled and said, "You mentioned you were a friend of Hoku's, but not a classmate? How did the two of you meet?"

"We met properly through a joint project at my work," Law said calmly. "Had a few mutual friends prior to it without realizing."

"I see," Sabo said. He began to pull containers from the bag. "You're an artist as well?"

Law scoffed, a light sound as he shook his head. Sabo's eyes slowly turned his way. "Doctor. She was commissioned to design a mural for the children's ward."

Sabo offered a small hum of interest, watching the broth in one container sway slightly from side to side. "So you're one of Straw Hat's brothers?"

"That's right," Sabo said, calmly adjusting a utensil set. He turned now and lightly leaned back against the dining table to face Law, lacing his gloved fingers together and letting them hang comfortably in front of him. Sabo smiled, a charming upturn of his lips. "Luffy, Ace, Hoku and I all grew up together. She lived with us for a long time as well."

"Must've been a loud house," Law said. Sabo continued to smile. "You seem more put together than either of them at least."

"Haha, we managed," Sabo said, "it was the kind of home Hoku loved. Easy to mind the noise."

Law glanced over from where he'd been lightly moving some stray items off Hoku's countertop. Sabo dully noticed the way Law seemed to know where to put each little item.

"She mentioned the two of you were back in town," Law leaned back against the counter. "What do you do for work? Random business like Straw Hat-ya?"

Sabo grinned easily. "Fortunately more stable than that. I work with a few brands and do some modeling."

"I see," Law said. "A model."

"Are you currently still in school?" Sabo said, though he could tell the answer already. "Residency?"

Law offered him one easy shake of his head. He considered Sabo for a brief moment, a simple look, before he said, "Attending."

"That's amazing," Sabo said, eyes widening. "You only look a few years older than me!"

"Worked hard," Law said with a slight shrug. "That's all."

Sabo nodded in understanding. He could feel Law giving him a curious once over. Sabo had already done the same, after all, taking in the rolled up sleeves of his black button down, undone by several buttons to reveal the top of his chest and casual black slacks. It seemed he'd just gotten off work.

Perhaps he'd be called back into the hospital soon enough.

"What hospital do you work at?" Sabo asked. "Somewhere local?"

Law nodded. "Heart Hospital."

Sabo paused for a moment, wondering briefly where he'd heard such a name before. He was familiar with that hospital, one of the biggest ones in the area. Reputable and good reviews... no, that's right. There was an article Luffy's father had mentioned to him once...

Sabo's expression became one of faux concern, brows creased, "Isn't that the one that was owned by that mobster? Doflamingo?"

For a split second, Law's jaw clenched briefly. Sabo kept his careful mask of concern, watching with lightly narrowed eyes as Law's own expression flickered before it settled. A mask of calm detachment.

"...his brother owned it," Law said clearly. "He'd left that part of the family business behind. He didn't know anything about medicine, but he helped fund the hospital and keep it afloat until it took off."

The most you've said all night. "Oh, I had no idea," Sabo said, eyes round with curiosity. "That must be a relief to know you don't have to worry about treating any criminals or having any troublemakers around, right?"

Law offered a short noise in the back of his throat as a response. One of his hands was drumming his fingers against the side of the countertop. Sabo unamusedly considered the ink etched into his knuckles with distaste.

"You know what," Sabo said now, voice lighter, "you must've been the one who treated Luffy's broken collarbone last year, aren't you?"

Law's expression instantly relaxed into the memory, lips twisting into a furious scowl. Sabo almost laughed. "Yes. Unfortunately."

"I couldn't imagine," Sabo said. "Thank you for that. Luffy's easy because you know he'll never go hungry, but you've got to watch out for what trouble he gets himself into. Hoku on the other hand..."

Sabo glanced to the take out on the table. "I'm always worrying about whether or not she's eating enough or taking care of herself. Especially since she lives alone."

Sabo shook his head. "We've been mentioning to her lately she should consider moving in with us like before. Especially considering in the past..."

Sabo purposefully stopped his explanation, giving Law and innocently hesitant look. "Has she told you about that?"

Law's expression was one of cool calm. He faced Sabo easily, "Once in passing."

"She just forgets to take care of herself," Sabo said softly. "Ace and I used to look after her all the time."

Law considered the take out and glanced halfway over his shoulder. Sabo's smile settled into a thin line. "I know what you mean."

Sabo slowly smiled. He smoothed his thumb over the top of his gloved hand.

"You sound like you know Luffy pretty well too," Sabo said casually, offering Law a grin. "One of the mutuals?"

"Didn't realize we both knew him until later," Law said. "Straw Hat-ya gets around. Realized the same about another friend."

"Who else? Would we know them?"

Law seemed to genuinely hesitate for a moment, not at all nervous, but silently contemplative. Sabo raised a curious brow until Law finally continued, "...Eustass-ya."

He gauged Sabo's reaction to the name, expression impassive. Sabo figured Law was considering the fact that if Sabo and Ace had been close enough to Hoku during high school, they should've been more than aware of Hoku's only long term relationship.

Sabo was very, very aware.

"Oh," Sabo said with oblivious curiosity. He even allowed himself to make a slightly concerned expression, "So you're... a friend of Hoku's ex?"

"...mutuals," Law said, slightly clipped.

Sabo had discovered where he could lightly tap the knife.

"I see," Sabo said, looking naively concerned. "That's nice! It's good that you two can still be friends despite that..." Law looked up at Sabo. His expression remained unbothered, but his jaw shifted slightly. "You know how it usually is for people. Easier to just cut it clean."

"...we became acquainted after the matter," Law said. "It's no problem."

There was a slight shortness, almost barely noticeable. Sabo tried to hide his slow, curling smile. "Of course! If anything, I'm happy to meet one of Hoku's friends. We try to make it a habit to be familiar with all of them."

Sabo smiled, tilting his head to the side. Law's gaze was cool, regarding Sabo with the slightest furrow of his brow. "She's one of our closest friends, after all. We've known her for so long..."

Sabo snapped his fingers as though he'd suddenly had a thought. Law leaned back against the counter, slowly sliding his arms crossed over his chest. His shoulders leaned back somewhat, giving him a broader appearance. Sabo blinked slowly, languidly.

"You guys seem pretty close," Sabo said, simple and easy. "But I'm surprised Hoku's never mentioned you before."

Law shrugged. A light raise of his shoulder. His tone was lazy.

"It's been awhile since you've been in touch."

Sabo smiled, a slow curl of his lips.

The door to Hoku's bathroom swung open with a slight bang! A happy sigh of relief flooded the whole apartment, slightly damp feet slapping against wooded boards. "Done! Shower's all yours if you wanna wash—Sabo!"

Sabo's eyes turned in an instant to the sound of her voice. Hoku stood in the entryway of the kitchen, the faintest wisp of steam curling off her skin. He kept his gaze evenly on her face, expression warm, but he could make out easily the looseness of her shirt, falling in a way about her chest that made him want to offer Law a very persuasive ride home. She slipped pajama shorts on, loose and falling too short over the top of her thighs.

Law turned lazily to look at her entrance.

Sabo's fingers clenched briefly, loosening almost instantly.

Hoku's jaw dropped in surprise, eyes wide in shock for a moment. She quickly swung her gaze from Law to Sabo, looking blatantly confused.

Sabo smiled, his eyes crinkling this time at the corners. "Good evening Hoku... I was just stopping by to bring something over in case you hadn't eaten yet. Just got off work. Dr. Trafalgar was nice enough to let me in."

"Aw, thanks Sabs!" Hoku's eyes went round, quickly hurrying over into the kitchen. She playfully shoved Law aside and he scowled, keeping to the countertop while she stopped beside Sabo. "You didn't have to! Traffy and I actually already ate an early dinner today—but are you hungry? We can heat some of this up and I'll share with you."

Sabo's smile widened even further, gaze fond as he reached over and ruffled the top of Hoku's still damp hair. He watched a bead of water roll down her neck, the smell of her conditioner lingering in the air.

Sabo lightly pulled his fingers away.

"No worries. I already ate. I just wanted to make sure you were eating."

"I am, I am," Hoku said with a pout. She flashed Law a look. "See? You're rubbing off on people!"

"This is the first time we've ever met."

"That's right," Hoku look scandalized. "Have you two introduced yourselves yet? Sabo, this is—"

"We have," Law and Sabo said in unison. Sabo laughed lightly while Law remained silent. "But that's all Hoku, don't let me keep you."

"Aw, well if you're sure," Hoku said. Her brows creased and she frowned. "You can always hang around here for a bit if you wanted! Law's hanging out until his next shift so he's resting here."

"No, no, it's fine," Sabo said sweetly, already beginning to make his way back to the entrance. Hoku followed quick at his heels, coming right up to his side. Sabo's smile widened an inch and he gently set an arm around her shoulders. "Sorry for dropping in so suddenly."

"No need to apologize! I'm happy to see ya," Hoku said brightly. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? You and Law can chat a bit, share some crazy stories—I bet you'll both realize you have plenty about Lu."

Sabo glanced over the top of Hoku's head to where Law had drifted soundlessly to the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the hallway wall.

"I'm sure," Sabo said. "But I have a short meeting with Ace... he says you need to respond to his messages faster, by the way."

"That dumbass blows up my phone at the most random time, I swear—"

"And also, Hoku," Hoku turned at his tone, eyes round and attentive. Sabo's smile curled, his gaze half lowering, pleased. His gloved fingers gently helped guide her, the softest tap, turning her body a bit more toward him.

(Just like that. Good job.)

"We wanted to move the usual appointment up a few days... would that be fine with you?"

Hoku blinked, once with a furrowed brow before her expression cleared. For a brief moment a light flush touched her cheeks, only natural given the memory of her current job with them—but Hoku instantly waved it away with an air of professionalism. "Sure, that's fine with me! The usual?"

"Yes," Sabo said lowly. "I'll keep you updated on the time." He lifted his fingers from her shoulder, drawing her attention away briefly before Sabo gently tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. Hoku looked up at the touch.

"Make sure you dry your hair," Sabo said. "You'll catch a cold."

"I will, I will," Hoku laughed, finally stopping by the genkan. Sabo easily reached into the shoe closet, taking out his pair while leaving a gaping spot between the unfamiliar loafers and Hoku's sneakers. "Text me when you get back home!"

"I will," Sabo echoed. Hoku grinned. "I'm sorry again for not staying longer, but I'll be seeing you soon."

"Right," Hoku said brightly. "Thanks again for the food, Sabs!"

"Of course," Sabo said. He looked again down the hall, smiling politely. "Good bye, Dr. Trafalgar. It was nice to meet you!"

"Likewise," Law said.

Sabo adjusted his coat as Hoku reached under him to open the door. He glanced briefly to the top of her head, watching the way the ends of her hair clung damply to the curve of her collarbone.

(A thin strand. The ends clinging to the imagined image of sweat slicked skin. Plastered messily.)

Sabo stepped through the doorway, giving Hoku a tight, one-armed hug before he stepped out into the hall. "Have a good night, you two. Doctor, hope to see you again."

Law nodded from the shadow of the hallway. Hoku grinned up at him, holding the door open as Sabo began to make his way to the elevator. "Bye, Sabs!"

Sabo waved over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner.

Hoku waited a second, staring at the empty space before she hummed happily to herself, stepping back into the apartment. Her fingers twisted the lock with ease, waiting for the familiar click click of the locking mechanism.

Hoku turned on her heel, eyes widening in surprise as she stumbled back a quick step. Law suddenly stood directly in front of her, the slight remains of his cologne still clinging to the air and his chest nearly pressing her flat to the door as he stood over her—"What the hell? Law?"

The cloth of his button down almost touched her lips from the proximity. Hoku tried to lower herself a bit so she could crane her neck up to look at her friend, eyes round with curiosity and surprise. "Traffy?"

Law's gaze was fixed for a moment on the doorframe. His expression was somewhat unreadable, his brows a bit furrowed. They always seemed furrowed in Hoku's opinion, part of his perpetual stress, but there was a strangely... thoughtful? look on his face this time. Law didn't seem to hear her startled inquiry, one of his hands resting above her against the door, as though to keep it pushed closed.

Without a word, Law's long fingers carefully slid her lock chain back in place. His gaze seemed to narrow a bit, staring intently at the door—

Hoku's knuckles knocked against his chest. Law's expression finally cleared and he glanced down, leaning his forearm against the door as he hovered over Hoku.

"Hey," Hoku began, looking curiously confused. "You good?"

Law gazed down at her for a second longer. Hoku's brows started to furrow.

"...Always lock your doors," Law said flatly, he briefly knocked Hoku's head back, ignoring her hiss of pain as he promptly moved her in front of him, forcing her back down the hallway. "I'm tired."

"Tired! We still have a whole season to get through—I think Sabo left a few drinks! Let's have some and finish up."

Hoku practically skipped down the hall, once more unbothered. Law took a few steps after her.

He paused briefly in the entryway, stilling for a second longer before Law finally turned back to the front door.

His eyes lingered on the lock for only a breath longer before he turned, making his way back to Hoku's couch.

Iif you drink that you're going to knock out."

"No way! Look at it, I think the percentage is super low. It's probably basically soda."

.... ..... ..... .... .....

Sabo silently slipped into his car.

He went through the familiar motions, locking the doors and pressing the button for the engine to start. Sabo leaned back against his seat, still tracing the fading warmth over the top of his hand.

His phone began to vibrate. Sabo lightly tapped the button to answer, placing his brother on speaker. “Ace.”

“How was it?” Ace questioned, a hint of a sulk to his tone. “Tell me eve—“

“There’s someone we need to look into,” Sabo said without missing a beat. Ace fell silent on the other end and Sabo leaned forward against his arm crossed over his steering wheel. He looked up from his windshield toward Hoku’s floor in the apartment complex.

“See if you can get a head start. His name’s Trafalgar Law.”

... .... .... .... ....

Law slowly opened his eyes to the almost comforting drone of the television.

Hoku's living room was dark, save for the soft glow of the television screen in front of them. A cooking competition rerun with one of Hoku's friends—the blonde cook, as the guest star currently flirting with one of the female judges. Law eyed the screen for a second before he slowly sat up from his sunken position on the couch, raising himself up by his elbows.

Her apartment was silent save for her friend's professions of love. Law rubbed the back of his neck, working out a kink before he looked over to the heavy weight plastered over his leg.

Hoku was completely knocked out. She slept like the dead, chest rising and falling and hair spilled out messily around them. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Law's thigh and refusing to let go as she occasionally mumbled something against it.

Law ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back as he shut his eyes and took a second to gather his bearings. He reached over Hoku, fishing for his phone and pager. Everything seemed clear, as he expected till at least noon when his next shift would start—Law raised a brow at one message from Shachi saying to disregard a memo to his pager asking him to come in maybe an hour ago.

"Mistake from front desk. Said they had a call of someone requesting you but nothing serious."

Law's brows furrowed slightly, sliding the message open and checking his pager as well. Sure enough, a message had been sent and then a quick follow up.

His hand absently settled over the top of Hoku's head. Law's long fingers half-carded through her hair as he skimmed through the notifications on his phone, half-debating if he needed to call Shachi.

Law paused, glancing down at Hoku. His brows furrowed deeper, gaze becoming focused as he moved his hand from her hair to press the back of his hand to Hoku's forehead.

Warm. She's totally flushed. Law set his phone down, nudging Hoku by her shoulder. "Hoku-ya. Hoku-ya, wake up."

"Mmmm," Hoku slurred. "'m... not yet... you feel... cool..."

The sickly sweet hang of alcohol finally reached Law's nose. He blinked slowly in faint surprise, scanning Hoku's coffee table for where she might've grabbed an extra drink when he didn't realize—they'd both just been nursing small cans of whatever until they'd knocked out on the couch—

Law paused. His eyes focused on Hoku's drink sitting at the corner of the table. He gazed at it for a second longer before Law finally turned his focus back to Hoku.

"Hoku-ya."

Hoku's eyes finally fluttered open. She moved sluggishly, expression dazed and cheeks flushed in the darkness. Law's gaze narrowed at the sight and she mumbled, shaking her head awake as Hoku slowly unwound herself from his calf, sitting up between his legs.

"Ugh," Hoku mumbled. She shook her head and them seemed to instantly regret the action. "Man... I'm... beat... 's it... time for you... go?"

Law shook his head. Hoku began to lean against the couch now, eyes heavy with sleep. He carefully considered how hard it was for her to stay awake, deeply buzzed without being properly drunk.

"'orry," Hoku yawned, shaking her head against the couch. "So... tired..."

Without another word, Law rose from the couch. Hoku mumbled something, nuzzling into the side of the cushion until Law silently slipped his arms underneath her. Hoku's eyes fluttered openly briefly, rolling up to look at Law as he lifted her up before she shut them once more, not even making a fuss as she turned to rest her head against his chest instead.

Law manuvered his way to Hoku's room, nudging the door open with his foot and quietly stepping over her scattered projects. He lowered Hoku into her bed, checking the flush of her skin before he briskly made his way out back into the livingroom.

He stopped briefly before the kitchen, grabbing the two cans off Hoku's table and flicking the light switch on. Law approached the sink, dumping out first the last of the beer from his can before he finally focused on Hoku's.

Law held the can up to the light, carefully turning the label around.

"It's sweet and fizzy," Hoku had said. "Pretty light in taste. Like a soda. These aren't so bad. Percentage seems low."

It wasn't clear on first glance. Law turned away from the label now and meticulously checked each line of the nutritional box until he found what he was looking for. He scoffed in disbelief, rolling the can once between his fingers as the bit of remaining liquid sloshed about.

The percentage of alcohol in this was one of the highest he'd ever seen in a can.

He heard Hoku's laugh. "Sabo has good taste!"

Law stared at it for a moment longer before he promptly dumped the rest of the contents into the sink, trashing the cans into Hoku's recycling bin.

He pulled a bottle of water from her fridge, quietly making his way back to Hoku's room.

Law considered her sorry state for a moment, curled into a tight little ball over the top of her sheets while she wrapped her arms tightly around one of her pillows. Hoku's cheeks were flushed a bright red, her breathing slowed. Law set the bottle on her nightstand and took a seat on the edge of her bed, working her comforter out from under her.

Hoku's eyes fluttered open once more at the disturbance, turning lazily toward Law. Hoku freed an arm from her pillow, reaching over to grip the edge of Law's shirt.

"...'ay here?"

Law glanced down at Hoku. She gazed sleepily back up at him, brows creased imploringly. He remained silent for a few beats before Law wordlessly motioned with his hand. Hoku seemed lucid enough to understand, grinning cheekily as she shuffled over so Law had room. He turned, laying himself in the freed space of her mattress as Hoku's entire face seemed to relax now, holding her pillow loosely.

Law laid sideways, pulling the comforter up over Hoku while he laid on top of them. Hoku's soft scent covered the lingering whisper of alcohol, wrapping lightly around Law. He stared silently at Hoku's face, her expression slowly growing more and more relaxed, breaths slow and easy.

A thought remained in the back of his head. He considered the conversation he'd had with Hoku just an hour or so ago before they'd fallen asleep on the couch.

"Hoku-ya."

She'd looked up at him from the top of her can.

"Has that guy always been like that?"

A wide grin, brows a bit furrowed.

"Sabo? Like what?"

She'd laughed.

'If you mean always that put together, yeah, hahaha. Between the four of us, he was always good at—"

Law had dropped the conversation there, instead letting Hoku tell him a few stories about their childhood and high school days. He listened for small pieces in Hoku's stories, a faint clue to give weight to a careless thought.

Perhaps it was because Law himself wasn't quite sure what name to put to what he'd considered he'd seen.

(His gaze meeting his own over the top of her head.)

Gloved fingers splaying widely across the back of Hoku's shoulder, featherlight she probably didn't even feel the touch.

(The way that hand had covered so much.)

The way he'd look at Hoku, just for a second—

(Possessive.)

-sorry it mightve ended up a bit more sabo-centric than law, i'll do more law TT

#memos #memos au #sabo #hoku #law #trafalgar law #locked here for forever #lhff #ace #wow that was a doozy #so fun to write hope it was fun to read #i go sleep now #law seems indifferent but i liked writing him thru sabos eyes it was a bit tricky #love law wanna do his own au fr

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