#Vi x reader

[streamsofmoon]

suggestive| vi x fem!reader

a/n: they're so silly your honour. writing stuff like this makes me so happy.

your tits being vi's phone background is something you hadn't expected. but it isn't something that surprised you; it's vi after all and she's made it blatantly obvious that she's obsessed with you.

still.

"so every time someone looks at your phone, they see my boobs?" you ask her, looking at the photo that graces her screen. it's a very attractive photo, does your tits justice with how they're squished together. and if you look closely enough, you can see faint traces of vi's bite marks.

once again, the girl is obsessed.

"no, they see a different one," vi explains and switches the photo to something more publicly appropriate. like you pulling a delightfully hideous face at a man who tried to pick you up. that was taken seconds before vi appeared and bashed his face in when he tried to square up to her.

you snort loudly, looking at your twisted facial expression before cackling, your head thrown back.

"fuck you!" you yell, shoving at vi's shaking shoulder because she's also laughing. "i'd rather they see my tits!"

"i wouldn't!" vi yells back, grinning like the hooligan she is. "your tits are mine and mine alone. they're there for me during the hardest of times. whenever i feel down, i just change the picture, and i get immediate sweet relief."

it's so stupid, but your heart warms at the sentiment because it's vi. she can make anything sound meaningful; she's done it with your pussy a fair few times.

"ugh, fine," you groan but you're smiling. "your oddly romantic words win this time."

vi lifts her arms up in victory, beaming as she grabs at your face to smother it in kisses.

you graciously allow it to happen.

"you're so whipped for me," vi teases, squishing your cheeks together and smoothing your puckered lips. "makes you look stupid."

"i'll kwill ywu," you threaten with little hostility because vi's right.

you are whipped.

[e1e4n0r5]

Got a Lil Sugar: Chapter 3

Masterlist, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Sugar Mommies Cait & Vi x Sugar Baby Reader

Words: 2871

Synopsis: After almost a month online, someone finally makes you smile

Warnings: Financial distress, sex work, creeps on the internet, FLUFF

Week four of attempting to save your finances.

You’d thought, stupidly, that this would be empowering. That you’d feel beautiful. Wanted.

Instead, you just felt…Cheap.

Desperate.

Ashamed.

Even the conversations with the nice ones didn’t make you feel good.

You were on the verge of shutting the app down entirely, telling yourself this was a mistake, you’d figure out something else to make money.

You didn’t check your inbox for a day and a half after the live stream, following Mel’s advice to look after yourself first. The people would wait.

Then you finally returned to the app, feeling no lighter than you had before. It was almost overflowing, making your head hurt when you saw the sheer amount of filth you had to wade through.

hey baby can i see those tits again? – $30 sent

You looked so pretty last night, I wanna fuck you so bad – $20 sent

can u send me a vid of u painting ur toes? I like blue! – $50 sent

And on it went.

A message with two new names caught your attention.

Caitlyn & Violet

The profile photo was simple: two women, one taller with blue hair in a fitted designer dress; one broader with pink hair wearing suit trousers and a shirt open to mid-chest, with a line of text beneath it:

We’d like to spoil someone who can handle both of us

Their first message was short, sent just after your live stream.

Good evening, Y/N. You caught our eye. Would you like to talk?

You stared at it for a long moment, your heart thudding, your lip caught between your teeth.

And then, with fingers just slightly trembling, you typed back.

Hello. Sorry for the late reply, I took yesterday off. Yes. I’d like that.

The reply came back almost instantly.

That’s what we wanted to hear.

Even just the sight of it on your screen gave your stomach a flutter.

We’re not here to waste your time, or ours. We like taking care of someone who deserves it. You made an impression.

You swallowed hard, reading it three times over before you managed a shaky little.

I appreciate that. I’ve only been here a few weeks, to be honest. Still figuring it all out.

Don’t worry, you can figure it out with us.

A notification from your cash app buzzed through.

Caitlyn & Violet sent you $20: For coffee while we chat

Your breath caught.

They didn’t even ask. They just did it. And it wasn’t for anything sexual!

We’re not here to make you feel uncomfortable. If at any point you’d prefer we stop, just say so. But we’d like to get to know you.

Then another message chimed in, with a different tone. A little cheeky.

Cait’s just being polite. what she means is: we think you’re cute. don’t ghost us yet, okay?

So that was Violet. You read back the messages, realising you had first been messaging Caitlyn. You nodded to yourself, noting their different vibes and punctuation.

Tentatively, you replied:

Not ghosting. Just nervous.

that’s okay, you’ll get the hang of it soon

And you felt like you were.

You spent the next few hours talking to lots of people as you caught up on messages and requests, but Caitlyn and Violet were the only ones who gave you butterflies. There was a nice man who’d already sent $80 in small chunks when you said something that made him laugh, but he was still…You know…A man.

A few women were still in the mix, and you’d sent some small photos back to them and some men when they gave you a tip, mostly of your feet, which still gave you the ick. But at least it was profitable – a total of $485 thus far.

That would cover your medications and some groceries.

Mel had been right; over the weeks, you'd gradually started accumulating some ‘regulars’ and you were able to start earning pretty consistently each day.

Around 7pm, you were starting to get hungry.  Just as you were about to make another meal of the cheap ramen noodles with some awful sausages, a message came through.

Why don’t you order dinner, darling? These types of discussions are best done on a full stomach.

You blinked as another notification lit up your screen, this time $50.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh, the shame and bile from earlier softening, just a little.

You really don’t waste time, huh? you typed, before you could overthink it.

not when we know what we want

And just like that – even though you still felt nervous, still felt way out of your depth – it didn’t feel quite so scary anymore. It felt like maybe you could let yourself enjoy this. Just a little.

Thank you, you typed back finally, fingers steadier this time. I’ll see what’s on the menu

Good girl

You weren’t sure who that was, but it made your chest feel hot.

You set your phone down and curled your knees to your chest, a tiny smile playing at your lips.

You were still messaging with Caitlyn and Violet – and others – when your food finally arrived; steaming cartons of pad thai and dumplings stacked neatly in a paper bag, a treat you hadn’t been able to afford in years. You snapped a quick photo of the spread on your coffee table and sent it to them without even thinking, along with a shy:

Thank you. This smells amazing.

A reply came fast.

you deserve good food, baby

Cait added, a little more restrained but no less warm: Enjoy, and take your time. We’re not going anywhere.

That made your stomach flip, in a good way, and you smiled to yourself as you set the phone aside long enough to dig in, savouring the first proper meal you’d had in weeks.

Halfway through, your phone buzzed again, this time a call with Mel’s name flashing across the screen.

You wiped your fingers quickly and answered. “Hey-”

“Sweetheart,” she interrupted in a hushed voice. You could hear clinking glasses and faint music in the background. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you! It’s just been one Daddy after another! I’ve got two minutes while this one’s in the bathroom. How’s it going?”

You hesitated, glancing at the coffee table littered with takeout containers and your phone screen still glowing with Caitlyn and Violet’s chat window.

“Um…Good and bad,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m chatting with someone nice. Well, two someones.”

“Two separate someones, or a couple?”

“Couple.”

Mel hummed thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “Interesting, that’s not very common. A man and a woman?”

“Two women. They messaged me right when I was about to give up,” you said. “It just feels different with them. They’re…” you trailed off, struggling for the word.

Mel finished for you. “Genuine?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she said approvingly. “That’s what you want. They’ll keep you sweet if they’re the real deal. Polite, generous, and clear about what they want. If you’re not sitting there feeling creeped out, that’s a good sign.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at that. “They already sent me coffee money earlier. And then dinner.”

Mel laughed, clearly pleased. “Alright, listen: finish your food. And take a picture of yourself with it, cute little smile, hint of cleavage, and send it to them. Thank them for spoiling you. It makes them feel all warm and fuzzy, and keeps them hooked. Trust me.”

You bit your lip. “…Isn’t that-?”

“Are you about to say ‘manipulative’?” Mel supplied cheerfully. “No, angel, it’s manners. They bought you dinner, they gave you a spoil. Now, show them how much you liked it with a little bit of sugar. You want them to want to do it again, don’t you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and keep them sweet,” she said lightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at her seductive tone. “Okay, okay. I will.”

“Attagirl,” she said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Okay, he’s coming back. Call me later if you need to talk. You can do this. We’ll have lunch tomorrow!”

And then she was gone.

You took a deep breath, then carefully put the chopsticks in a takeout box, picked it up, and held your phone up at arm’s length. One soft smile, a slightly higher angle to hint at your cleavage, one little click, and you sent it to them with a simple message:

Dinner’s perfect. Thank you for taking care of me.

You’re welcome, baby. You look lovely.

damn right you do, that smile’s worth every penny

Your cheeks went hot, and for the first time all day, you let yourself grin – really grin – as you curled up on the couch again.

Maybe Mel was right.

Maybe it did get easier.

You woke up to the glow of notifications on your phone again. Dozens of messages on the app, and several notifications from the cash app.

You propped your head up on a pillow, scrolling through the notifications.

Some of the messages made you smile faintly.

Good morning, beautiful. Breakfast on me today? — with $15 attached.

Loved talking to you last night. Can’t wait to hear more about what you like. — $20.

You seem like such a sweet girl. Hope you have a good day. — no money, but at least polite.

Some of them were less nice.

Hey why didn’t you answer me last night? You’re not even that hot.

Bet you’re just here to scam people. Pathetic.

You grimaced and blocked them all without replying.

You kept scrolling, trying to remember what Mel had drilled into you: Talk to as many as you can. Don’t get attached. Every one of them is a potential payday.

And yet…

Your thumb stilled when you saw Caitlyn & Violet at the top of the list, just like last night.

Good morning, sweetheart.

You felt your chest warm at the sight of it.

The next message came a few minutes later, they must have sent it when you didn’t respond right away.

Don’t forget to eat something. We’d hate to find out you’re skipping breakfast.

And then another ping from your cash app.

Caitlyn & Violet sent you $30: For a good start to your day

You stared at it for a long moment.

You could open the other messages. There were nice people in there, probably. And you’d earn more if you talked to more of them, just like Mel said.

But the thought of it made your stomach twist.

It felt like work.

Whereas opening Caitlyn’s and Violet’s messages?

That already made your heart skip a little.

You bit your lip, then opened the chat.

Good morning, you typed back, fingers just slightly trembling. Thank you for breakfast, I’ll show you what I get when I’m out. You’re already making it really hard to talk to anyone else.

Their reply came back almost immediately.

that’s exactly what we’re going for, sweetheart

Then Caitlyn followed up, polite but with a sharp little edge that made your cheeks warm:

We prefer not to share. But we won’t rush you. When you’re ready to focus on just us, let us know. In the meantime, we’d love to keep talking

You tucked your phone against your chest for a second, grinning into your arm.

Mel was probably right. You should keep talking to everyone.

But right now?

You only wanted to talk to them.

You found Mel sitting on a bench in the park during your lunch break, ankles delicately crossed under her, her dress split to her thigh. She scrolled her phone with one hand, sipping on an iced latte that you knew she hadn’t paid for herself. She looked completely at ease, hair perfectly arranged, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

When she saw you approach, she grinned and patted the bench beside her.

“Hello, darling. Sit. Let’s talk business.”

You sank down next to her, unwrapping the hot sandwich you’d grabbed on your way over, thanks to Caitlyn and Violet. So far, they’d bought you the best dinner and breakfast you’d had in a long time, and you knew this sandwich was going to be just as good.

Mel eyed it, then smirked. “You look happier. Who bought your lunch today?” she asked teasingly.

You ducked your head, a little sheepish. “A few people actually. But I’m thinking of it as their treat. They sent me breakfast money too!”

Mel made a pleased little hum. “Good girls. Consistent spoiling already? Promising. That’s the main thing: consistency.”

You smiled faintly, but Mel was already rifling through her bag. She pulled out a little notepad, and handed it to you.

“Here. Homework. I wrote this up last night, seeing as these two clearly want more than just feet pics. These are the kinds of spoils you can and should get from a good Mommy or Daddy. Not just meals and coffee money. Think bigger.”

You glanced down. The list read:

Food & drink (every day, no excuses, even just $5 for a treat)

Clothes & shoes (‘wardrobe fund’)

Beauty/grooming (skincare, makeup, hair, nails, facials, waxing of your choice, etc)

Bills (rent, utilities, phone, etc)

Hobbies

Travel

Spending money (always keep petty cash on hand)

You swallowed and looked up. “All this?”

Mel nodded. “Angel, listen. If they want you, they’ll want to take care of you. That’s half the thrill for them. You remember that trip to Ionia I took last year?”

“Yeah, you had, like, a week at their most luxurious spa resort. I was so jealous.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And do you think I paid for that myself?”

Your eyes widened. You’d looked up the price of that spa at the time, it was thousands of dollars just for a single day pass, let alone the whole week Mel had gone for.

“They give you spoils, and you give back whatever sugar you’re comfortable with. You’re not obligated to jump into bed with someone just because they send you a few hundred. Got it?”

“…Got it,” you murmured, tucking the list carefully into your bag.

Mel leaned back, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Now. Let’s talk about sugar.”

You froze a little at the word. “…Right here? In public?”

She just smirked, low and lazy. “Relax. Nobody’s listening. There are levels. Not everything’s full sex; some people don’t want full sex. You can give as much or as little sugar as you’re comfortable with, but some Mommies and Daddies might want more than you want to give.”

“Mel, I've been...” you looked around in discomfort, “Sending things to people for weeks. Isn't it just the same thing?”

“Not entirely. Until now, people have been asking you for specific things, and you just gave them what they asked for. Now, you'll need to take some initiative. Learn what they like and keep doing that. Flirty pictures, like selfies with a little cleavage, or just smiling with your coffee. Those are the appetizer are some, the main course for others. If these two like coffee photos, send them coffee photos. If they like your boobs, send them boobs. If they have a stockings fetish, go out and buy a pair in every style you can.

“Suggestive pics: a little thigh, your mouth, lingerie, silhouette shots. Then you’ve got videos: sweet or sexy, just enough to keep them hooked. Voice notes: huge. You might be surprised by how much people love audio-only. Call them Mommy or Daddy in a sultry voice note and they’ll absolutely melt. One of my other Baby friends deals exclusively in voice notes; she’s never sent a single photo or vid, and her house is amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed as you listened, but you nodded along, absorbing every word.

Then she clapped her hands. “Okay. Time for some practical training. Stand up.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Stand up, angel. You’re dressed so nicely today, and the weather’s perfect. Let’s get you some fresh pics you can send. You should be taking photos or videos every chance you get. Good Babies always keep Mommies and Daddies up to date.”

You hesitated, then stood, smoothing your dress. Mel led you to a sunny patch of grass by some trees and directed you like a seasoned photographer: tilt your chin here, lean your hip there, smile but not too big, look this way, look into the distance. She had you sit on the grass with her coffee, leaning back on one hand and glancing coyly at the camera, your dress riding up just enough to tease. She even got one of you leaning forward against a tree, back arched to show the curve of your butt.

When you sat back down, scrolling through the little set of photos she’d taken, you had to admit, they were excellent.

Mel grinned at you over the rim of her sunglasses. “You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks, Mel.”

“Anytime, angel. You’re already catching big fish: now you need to keep them on the line.”

You tucked your phone into your bag with a little thrill of nerves and excitement mingling in your chest.

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup, @niceminipotato, @fruitfulfashion, @dut1fuldyk3, @youngtastemakerfart, @trinityobsessesovatings, @barmaideneeveewrites, @c1sne, @geminideathrose, @nuianced-tck-enby, @all-things-lilac, @m0ss-gremlin, @notkyleelol, @girlsatourbest, @rainfalls77, @vinvinvin-who, @ispendwaytolongonhere, @lavendercassie54321, @elliespookie, @elliecoochieeater, @nerdyjeansblog, @honeycriess, @kuntie99,

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Starved

Vi x fem!reader

oral fixation, overstimulation, praise kink, Vi begging, multiple orgasms, rough sex, possessiveness, face sitting (implied), primal play, dirty talk, light restraint, consensual desperation

word count- 1216

She slams the door before she even finishes stepping into the room. The echo rattles the windows and the picture frame of the two of you from some street fair hangs crooked on the wall, but Vi doesn’t care.

She’s already stripping.

Boots first, kicked off without grace. Then her gloves, her jacket—shoulders flexing, breath loud in the still night as she peels off the sweat-slick black tank top she’s been wearing for hours too long. Her hair’s a mess, stuck to her neck and forehead. Her knuckles are bruised. She looks feral.

You sit up in bed, the sheets still warm from where you dozed off waiting for her, a concerned smile barely forming before she’s on you.

“I missed you,” she growls, voice already thick with want, like her tongue can barely keep up with the hunger behind her teeth. “Fuck—couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole mission.”

“Vi—” you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss, brutal and deep.

It’s not the kind of kiss meant to be sweet or careful. It’s a collision. Her teeth scrape your bottom lip. Her hand cups the back of your head like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. Your fingers barely brush her waist before she pushes you flat onto your back and climbs over you, straddling your hips, eyes blazing with that unhinged, desperate heat.

“I swear to the Goddess, if you’re not wet already, I’m gonna make you beg,” she pants, mouth ghosting against your jaw, down your neck. “But I’m kinda hopin’ you are, baby. Been gone so long, and I need to taste you. Need it.”

Your breath hitches. “Vi—slow down—”

“No,” she interrupts again, not unkindly. It’s a growl. A plea. “Please. I can’t. Not tonight.”

And there it is—Vi, begging, in her own wild way. She’s not the type to drop to her knees emotionally very often, but the way she’s clinging to you right now? The way she’s trembling, not from fear but from restraint?

She’s already halfway gone.

Her hands are everywhere, dragging your shirt up your body with greedy fingers, kissing every inch of skin she uncovers. You arch into her instinctively, pulse fluttering. She groans as she bites the underside of your breast and then soothes the sting with her tongue, like she can’t decide between worshiping you and devouring you.

When she finally gets your panties down your thighs, it’s with such force that they tear. You gasp.

“Fuck, sorry—” she mutters, breathless.

But the look in her eyes? She’s not sorry.

“You smell so good,” she whispers as she spreads your thighs, her voice reverent and shaky. She kisses the inside of your knee, then trails higher, biting her way up your skin like it’s the only thing grounding her.

“Vi, I—”

“Shh. Just let me, babe. Let me have you.”

Her lips find your folds like she’s been tracking your scent for miles. She moans when she buries her face there, hot breath making your hips jerk. Her tongue licks one long, slow stripe that makes your stomach twist, then she goes back in, sucking your clit between her lips like she needs it to live.

You choke on a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

“Oh my god—Vi—”

She hums against you, tongue flicking with purpose, her hands locking down around your thighs so tightly you couldn’t escape if you wanted to.

(Not that you do.)

Every movement of her mouth is filthy, intentional, soaked in desperation. She grinds her hips against the mattress, chasing her own high without ever leaving her spot between your legs, like she’s hoping she can cum just from tasting you.

And the worst—or best—part?

She keeps talking between every flick of her tongue.

“Been dreaming about this,” she groans, her voice muffled. “Wanted to come home to this—fuck, baby, you taste like heaven—gonna make you cum on my tongue, yeah? Gonna give it to me, sweetheart?”

Your hands tangle in her pink hair and pull, hard, but she doesn’t flinch. She growls.

“Ohh, you like it rough tonight?” she rasps, dragging two fingers through your slick. “Then come on, gorgeous—fuck my face. Ride it. I want it. I want everything.”

You don’t even recognize the sound that leaves your throat. You barely recognize yourself—panting, trembling, legs shaking as Vi’s fingers slide inside you like she’s memorized the angle.

She has.

“That's it,” she moans. “That’s my good girl. So tight for me—so fucking good—cum, baby, do it—cum for me, please—”

The sound of her begging, voice cracking while her mouth and fingers keep working you like you’re her whole world—it ruins you.

You shatter.

Your thighs close around her head, and she moans like she’s in heaven, like she’s coming with you. Her fingers don’t stop. Her tongue keeps flicking. She chases your orgasm, milks it, won’t let it end.

“Vi—too much—fuck—wait—”

“No,” she growls, needy and blissed out. “One more. Please. Give me one more.”

You try to wriggle away, but she holds you down, her whole body trembling with sheer need. She’s gone feral—starving—like this is the only thing that can fill her up.

And gods, the praise.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” she groans. “Taking me so good—so wet—fuck, I could do this all night. Gonna keep eating you ‘til you can’t think straight, babe. Just wanna drown in you.”

You do cum again, and then again, in quick, helpless waves. She never lets up. She pushes you through each one with a kind of reckless devotion that leaves your legs twitching and your head spinning.

At some point, you’re crying. You don’t even know when.

Vi pulls back finally, her chin slick, eyes wild but softening just slightly as she looks up at you from between your thighs. She kisses the inside of your leg like an apology.

“You okay, baby?” she pants. “You with me?”

You nod, gasping for air, one arm flung over your eyes. “Jesus. I—I think you broke me.”

She grins, crawling up to lie beside you, pressing kisses all over your damp cheeks, your jaw, your collarbone.

“Didn’t mean to go so hard,” she murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “But fuck, I missed you. Missed this. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your breath hitches again when she shifts her hips, and you realize—Vi’s soaking through her underwear.

She hasn’t even touched herself.

Your hand trails down to her hip. She groans.

“Vi,” you whisper. “You didn’t…?”

She shakes her head, face flushed and sweaty, hair wild. “Didn’t need to. Just tasting you? Feeling you cum on my face?” She lets out a shaky breath. “That was better than getting off.”

You blink at her, dazed and overwhelmed and so full of love you could cry all over again.

“I can… return the favor,” you whisper, reaching down.

But Vi catches your wrist and brings it to her lips. “Later. Right now? I just wanna hold you. Just—let me come down.”

She pulls you into her arms, chest still heaving, heartbeat racing beneath her ribs. You bury your face into her neck, still trembling with aftershocks.

And in the silence that follows, she presses a final kiss to your temple.

“I fucking love you,” she says, raw and reverent.

You smile weakly, completely wrecked.

“I know.”

[justajinx00]

MORE BIG CLIT VI TWT LINKS IM BEGGING

ty for the request dear anon <3 i started looking as soon as i saw your message lmfaoooo

𝓑𝓲𝓰 𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓽 𝓥𝓲 || 𝓽𝔀𝓽 𝓹 𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

NSFW ‼️ MDNI ‼️

taking your time with Vi's clit (this is exactly what I was thinking of when I wrote the end of that headcanon I posted yesterday)

vi needs you in her nowww

vi showing you how she gets herself off

big clit vi with a piercing ;)

vi humping her pillow while on FaceTime

her clit is so puffy and needy

vi ruining her underwear while your fingers tease

vi texting you this spicy pic while you're at work

vi will use anything to feel good

pinching her throbbing clit with a toy

you just had to take a pic while she's sitting like this

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

(original Twt link from my big clit vi Headcanon)

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

<33 to anyone, feel free to request stuff :) I need to write more lol

[speedilyserratedvalley]

art by robin@foolsarc

[velorvm]

for the finger game may I request vi from arcane (bats lashes so cutely)

vi's fingers are on the longer side and thicker. veiny and calloused, and always bruised and sometimes bloody. there are definitely some scars, especially on her knuckles. short nails. always. her touch is always a tad desperate, a tad strong. her hands are bigger than yours, tougher than yours, and they can envelop yours way to easily, and as easy is it for her to simply grab you, digging her fingers into your flesh, never strong enough to bruise, but enough for her to feel your softness filling her palm. her hand is constantly around your waist your shoulders and she will squeeze your cheeks in tease. when her touch grows more frisky, she touches you with abandon, giving your clit everything while pusing multiple fingers into you. she knows how to get you to your knees, knows how to move and push her fingers to get you to be a blubbering mess underneath her. she's a force, as she presses your clit and curls her fingers in you, almost overstimulating you, and she enjoys the way you writhe and squirm and moan and whine. she will not let go of you until she has made you into pure lust with her own hands.

(fingers)

[almostsaidiloveyou]

Imagine #13:

(makeupartist!reader - mild nsfw - smut with plot - 1.8k words)

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You're trying to fix the smudge at the corner of her mouth when she says: "Your hands are cold when you touch my face...I like it."

You don't respond, you learned not to.

Years of working with her, late night shoots, red carpets, festival sets. She flirts. She always flirts. Quick mouthy little comments, smirks, hands resting on your thigh like that's normal. You've been her makeup artist since her first big magazine shoot where she was just some tatted up chick with talent everyone began to fall for.

If there's one thing you know about her is: she LOVES...no... she LIVES for a reaction. So you just hum, your thumb brushing the edge of her lip. She sits in your chair like she owns it.

Legs spread slightly, gray Tripp Pants, rings stacked on nearly every finger, hoodie unzipped halfway. The platinum chain around her neck catches the light when she leans back.

You don't flinch, no even when she starts drumming her fingers on the armrest like she was testing one of you both's patiences. You can hear the crew moving outside. Someone calling for 'fifteen minutes to stage.'

Didn't really matter though. Time always expanded when it’s just you and her like this.

"How's my face?" she asks, voice low-raspy-teasing.

"Same as always," you exhale, mumbled, not looking at her eyes. "Hot and in need of setting powder." The powder was in your hands, you turned the lid to open it midway.

She cocks an eyebrow up before she grins. You finally glance at her, eyeliner smudged just slightly at the corners (it was part of the look). She's not "classically beautiful." She's sharp and a bit messy and cool. Like she was about to get into a fight, but was never the one to provoke it--mainly just win it.

Worse thing, she knows she's hot. She also knows she's a tad bit egoistical, cocky, and (at times) very strangleable...but knowing her, she'll probably like that.

You tap her chin gently, tilting her head, "Stop smiling. I need you still."

She doesn't. "You always look so serious when you're working..."

"Keep scrunching your eyebrows like that. You'll wrinkle that hot face," she continues.

Your voice lowering, dry, when you lean closer to her: "Stay still," you drag the syllables.

That makes her laugh, a short one. You felt it though, warm, ghosting against your lips as you pat the powder under her eye.

And then her hand is on hip. Not in a "move to the side," type of way. No no, her thumbs rubs small, lazy circles against the seams of your jeans. So casual it could almost be dangerous.

You step back slightly, her hands still in the same place. Her eyes focus on you, well, focused on her hands on you. She hesitated for a bit. You can feel her thinking, and her thinking was never a good idea.

"You know....I'm gonna be on T.V. tonight, right?" she murmured, fingers slipping in and out your front pockets.

As if she was testing something.

"Might need some...luck." Hands sliding just beneath the hem of your shirt. You don't answer her at first, eyes narrowing just a bit.

"Um...break a leg?" You spun around, grabbing the lid of the make up product and spilling some inside the lid.

She clicks her tongue, kisses her teeth in that half-annoyed-half-entertained way. “Tch… you gonna make me beg for it? That’s rude.”

You scoff under your breath, not meeting her eyes. “I'm not gonna pity kiss you. 'Specially after I just finished your make up."

She huffs a laugh through her nose. She's amused, leaning back into the chair like you offended her. "So if i ruin it..." she hums, tongue pressed behind her teeth. "Then what? You'll punish me?

You gave her a side eye. "You're gonna mess up my hardwork on purpose?"

Her smirk turns mischievous. “Dependsss--What’s the punishment?”

You rolled your eyes, not falling for her shit. Even though your ears were burning--your heart beating rapidly. She literally lived for this. It was like a game. Teasing, playing rough, saying stupid things, and you were 100% sure she was like this to everyone. But the way her hands were always so soft and gentle when they landed on you. Like now, warm palms on your hips.

"Do not...test me," your mutter, you were talking inside the powder, leaning back towards her cheek again. "Fuck it up and I will literally mess your face up, and let you go out there like that."

"Ouu so mean...it's sexy." Her voice was slow and smooth.

"Jesus." You're deadpan,"Tilt your head...we're almost done."

She doesn't tilt her head.

"You know i'm being serious."

You tried to ignore her, desperately tried to ignore her. She grabs your wrist, not hard, just sudden. You blink and she pulls you in.

Voice dropping: “I’m serious.”

Then she kisses you. You don't even remember leaning in.

All you remember is her, kissing you hard. Mouth open tongue sliding inside your mouth. A low sound rumbling from her throat like she'd been waiting toooo long to do this.

You kissed her back immediately. ZERO hesitation. Your body reacted in a way that felt like muscle memory, tension, instinct, you've been building up for months...years!

You didn't even notice her fingers hooking into your belt loops until she yanks you forward with a quiet grunt, guiding your hips down until you’re seated fully on her thigh.

You let out a soft gasp. She spreads her legs a little wider just to make space. Your hands instantly land on her shoulder for balance.

Then she moves, just enough; her knee rising subtly, pressing up into you and your hips shift without thinking. You bite the corner of your bottom lip to suppress another gasp. Your head dropping as you adjust to the friction.

Thigh perfectly placed. Your grind down once, slowly, and the way she exhaled on your mouth. It was low and ragged...that just makes you throb

"Yea?" she whispers against your lips. "That what you needed?"

You don't answer. You cant, you just kiss her again messier this time. Your hand tangling in the back of her hair, (forgetting that her hairstylist could physically drag your ass). She groans into, her hands sliding down from your hips to your ass. Pulling you closer and guiding the rhythm.

It started slow, the movement between your bodies, unhurried. Then it all build up fast, grinding, pressing friction layered with heat and tension. Making you ache.

"You don't know how long I've been thinkin' 'bout you sitting on me like this." The kiss breaks so she could drag her mouth down your jaw, up to your ears. Her breath's hot when she murmurs: "Probably longer than I should've."

You quietly whimper, restrained, but she hears it. She feels. Purposefully, her thigh shifts up. In pure need your hips roll down harder. Her hand slides under your shirt, palm warm, rings cold against your lower back. Taking control on how you should move, sending butterflies to your stomach.

You can taste the lipstick you applied earlier:

Sweet, waxy, a shade you chose because it flattered the curve of her mouth too well. In the back of your mind, you can’t help but wonder why you even bothered fixing that smudge earlier. Because now it’s everywhere. Smeared at the corners of her lips, stamped across your mouth, probably your jaw too. A whole face of precision ruined in minutes.

Her other hand trails up to your side and cups you breast through your bra. Fingers squeeze, the thin padding of it makes you feel it more.

“Fuck,” you whisper, forehead resting against hers.

She laughs softy, cocky, but her voice is hoarse. “I just know you’re so f’king soaked,” she mumbles, like she’s insulted at the fact you wore pants.

Nonetheless, she’s right, you can feel it yourself. Your underwear damp and clinging. Jeans pressed tightly in all the right, horrible, sweet places. Every time you rock, your hips drags friction straight to your clit. Pressure building.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

You lean forward more, chasing it. The air was feeling hot, her grip tighter. Down and forward, hip grinding.

Again and again and again

She kisses you with urgency. Swallowing every moan.

Again and again and again

She squeezes her fingers between your skin and the bra wire. Finally getting access to your soft skin. Thumb brushing your nipple directly now. Your rhythm starts to stutter. Gasping, she pressed and flexes her thigh, just right.

“I wanna touch you so bad.” She bites your neck, bouncing her knee up and down.

That’s what got you to let go.

You roll your hips more aggressively, your hips jerking. She holds you through it rocking up slightly. Your legs clamps tight together against her thigh. Your fingers clutching her shoulder….like an anchor

You don’t speak right away. You still can’t.

Her hand stays on your back, rubbing slow circles. Her lips press once more to the corner of your mouth, softer this time.

Then she smiles, “Told you I needed some luck.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you glared at her. “You’re so insufferable.”

Pushing yourself off her lap, you glanced at your jeans. No visible wet spot, thank god, but you felt it. The heaviness between your thigh, the dampness, still clung to you. Your eyes flicked to her pants, nothing obviously there either, though that smuggy expression on her face said: ‘I wish there was a viable spot so I can show the world.’

“Sit still,” you muttered, it was a mantra at this point. Grabbing her jaw between your fingers.

Her make up wasn’t fucked, it was definitely…mushed. Your lipstick now printed on the corner of her mouth, not blending in well with her (different shade) lipstick. A soft blur of color, a visible reminder of how you completely lost control. The foundation around her mouth needed a light press.

But mostly it was her lips; Messy. Swollen. Kiss stained. If you let her out like this, the nation will definitely raise a couple of eyebrows.

There was a loud bang on the door. “Three minutes to stage!”

You didn’t flinch. You just sighed and reached for the lipstick.

It went quiet for a moment.

She watched you. Still, focused, for once not pushing nor teasing. Just watching. And for the first time tonight, she let you finish without flirting, without smirking. Just cooperating.

You gave her lips one last touch, dusted a bit more powder across her jaw, then leaned back.

That’s when she spoke: “You ever ridden a horse before?”

You groaned immediately, eyes dragging toward the ceiling. “Actually get the fuck out of my chair.”

She laughed, loud. Removed off her hoodie and tossed it at you on her way up. You caught it midair with one hand, rolled your eyes again.

You couldn’t help but stare at her straightening and stretching.

She looked incredible: shoulders square, chest rising with a deep breath, the event outfit….She is

Confident. Wild.

You slid up onto the counter behind you, hoodie still in your lap. And alright… you might’ve glanced at her pants again.

Gray fabric. No visible wet spot.

A tragedy, really.

Would’ve been a nice souvenir~

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

[littledykeblue]

(𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑/𝟒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓)

──𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓;

(lead guitar!vi x band manager!reader): managing a punk band is the dream gig. for you, it's made all the more sweeter by the sexy guitarist you get to call yours.

wc: 8.4k | cw: guitarist!vi, dom!reader, sub!vi, oral sex (v! and r!receiving), fingering (v!receiving), strap-on usage, cowgirl, degredation, praise kink, exhibitionism (public sex), orgasm control, MINORS DNI.

note: vi time!! this fic really took me through the trenches, but i emerged victorious! omg i can't believe we're almost done, team. it's been wild.

Managing a bunch of punk rockers wasn’t part of your five-year plan. You got the big, shiny business degree, racked up honors, and stood at the precipice of a dozen possible futures. The world was your oyster and, yet, you found yourself in your parents’ guest room (previously your room) with your laptop open and your ambition flickering like a dying light. 

The job market wasn’t kind and neither were your expectations. Everything sounded boring. Everything looked like it would suck your soul dry. Then Mel Medarda called.

She had joined her brother at No Kings Records, a newer label still trying to carve out a space in a saturated industry. She said there was a band she was watching—loud, messy, brilliant—and they were about to be a big deal. 

What they needed was someone smart, someone tough, someone who could wrangle chaos into results. Someone like you. She didn’t sugarcoat the gig. She said it would be brutal, exhausting, loud, and probably short-lived. But if you were willing to get your hands dirty, it might just be fun.

It started out better than fun. It was electric. Your rhythm with the girls clicked instantly and it was clear they weren’t in it for just fun or quick cash. They were out to make noise, make change, and burn the whole scene down while they were at it. 

You brought Caitlyn into the fold when they needed a bassist, though she was hesitant to step into the spotlight. She agreed to join on one condition: anonymity. You made it happen. You built C.K. from the ground up, constructed her persona, masked her identity, and made her the most mysterious face in the genre. No one’s cracked it yet.

You pulled Sevika out of a failing band and got her to join without too much fuss. That alone earned you serious credit. Sevika doesn’t do petty drama, doesn’t do bullshit, and definitely doesn’t like being handled. But she trusts you. They all do. And they should. You’re the spine of Hotwired. You take care of the money, the contracts, the schedule, the messes they leave behind. You make sure the machine keeps running and that the engine never burns out.

You’ve made a name for yourself in this business. People know better than to try and lowball your artists or waste your time. Other bands keep you on retainer just to negotiate their tours. 

But you stay with Hotwired. This band is yours. And maybe that has something to do with Violet Lanes, lead guitarist and walking temptation. You’ve been tangled up with her for almost a year now. There’s no label, no public declaration, and no press leaks. It’s a secret, for now. One that works. Sort of.

It started at a wrap party. Just one of the many half-organized, fully unhinged celebrations the band liked to throw after a successful leg of touring or the end of a video shoot. 

A handful of close friends, the crew, and the few trusted people under NDA who were allowed to look Caitlyn in the face. There was good booze, bad lighting, and music blasting from a Bluetooth speaker someone forgot to charge. It wasn’t glamorous. None of their parties ever were. But it was loud, it was fun, and you let yourself unwind a little. For once.

Vi had been watching you all night. You’d felt it in the way her gaze clung a second too long, in how her laughter got louder whenever you were nearby. 

You weren’t exactly blind to her, either. She looked good. Messy pink hair, eyeliner smudged from the heat, tank top sticking to her chest. She was holding a red cup and leaning against the wall like she was trying to look casual, but it wasn’t hard to see through her. She wanted you to notice. You did.

The touches started as slow, harmless things. A hand grazing your lower back as she passed. The brief brush of fingers when she handed you a drink. It built in the spaces between words and glances until the tension stopped feeling subtle and started to feel like something alive. The two of you slipped out without much fanfare. Her car was parked around the corner, windows tinted, backseat big enough. You’d barely closed the door before her mouth was on yours.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. You were both buzzed on whiskey and adrenaline, and nobody said anything about seeing each other again. But you did. Again and again. Late nights in hotel rooms. Quickies in dressing rooms with your hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Her name in your phone saved as something boring. A recurring thing. A routine. A secret.

And that was the problem.

It’s unprofessional. You know that. She knows that. You’re her manager, and managers don’t fuck their talent. Not if they want to keep their reputations clean. Not if they want to avoid HR disasters or bloodthirsty tabloids. But it’s not just that. Vi’s publicist—some smug asshole from her label who thinks he invented branding—made it painfully clear that her appeal is built on sex and availability. She’s not supposed to be anyone’s. That’s the fantasy. A girl like Vi Lanes doesn’t settle down. She tempts. She teases. She performs.

Which means this—whatever this is—has to stay behind closed doors. No slip-ups, no PDA, no getting caught. Not that it’s easy. Vi’s never been particularly good at doing what she’s told.

Your phone buzzes against the glass table beside your laptop. You glance over, already knowing who it is from the contact photo alone—a blurry picture of Vi flipping off the camera while mid-laugh, pink hair catching the sunlight, middle finger painted black. You answer it without thinking.

"Hey, Boss."

Her voice has that usual lilt to it, all lazy mischief and unspoken suggestion. It grates on your nerves in the way only she can manage. You lean back in your chair, clicking your pen shut and tossing it onto a notepad full of half-legible scribbles. "You only call me that when you want something."

"That’s not true," she says, but it absolutely is. "Sometimes I call you that when I’m thinking about you. Which is, like, all the time."

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with a twitch. “What do you want, Vi?”

“Dinner. With me. Tonight.” There’s the brief sound of a lighter clicking, a slow exhale on the other end. She smokes too much when she’s bored. “I’m making that thing you like. With the spicy oil and the noodles.”

“You hate cooking.”

“Yeah, well, I hate a lot of things. But I like you. So.” Another puff. “Come over.”

You glance at the time. It’s barely past three. “You’re back in town already? Vegas not offer enough stimulation for you?”

Vi laughs, low and warm and just a little rough. “Vegas was a blur. Got proposed to a bunch I’m pretty sure I gambled away a small fortune. That was the highlight. No offense to the city of sin, but I missed you.”

Your stomach does that stupid little flip it always does when she says shit like that. “Is that right?”

“Dead serious,” she says. “You’re the only stimulation I need, baby.”

You exhale through your nose, already standing to grab your keys off the counter. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, you’re coming over.”

You don’t bother denying it. “Yeah. I’m coming over.”

Vi hums her approval. “Knew I could count on you. I’ll have wine ready.”

“Don’t drink it all before I get there,” you warn.

“No promises,” she says, laughing. 

—

You pull into Vi’s driveway just as the sky starts its descent into gold. You know the way by heart. The sensor lights flick on before your foot even hits the step, and you don’t bother with the doorbell. Vi gave up on coming to greet you at the front door every time a while ago.

You kick your shoes off in the foyer, leaving them in the haphazard pile already there. The house smells like garlic and something rich, spicy. You hear the low hiss of a pan and follow the sound, feet padding over hardwood and past the framed gold records and chaotic art she’s nailed directly into the walls.

She’s in the kitchen, standing at the stove in a loose black tank and those threadbare sweatpants she frequents at home. There’s a towel slung over her shoulder and her hair’s half up, slightly damp like she showered not long ago. The sleeves of tattoos peeking out under the hem of her shirt look darker than usual, saturated in the evening light and soft sweat.

Vi turns when she hears you enter. That easy grin stretches across her face, sharp and crooked. “Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself.” You cross the kitchen slowly, with clear intent.

You slide your hands around her waist without hesitation, palms settling low on her hips. She’s warm and solid under your touch. Your lips find the space just beneath her jaw, pressing in gently, breathing her in. She tilts her head for you, and you kiss her mouth next, slow and familiar.

Vi smiles against your lips, then pulls away with one last peck. “I already poured your wine,” she says, jerking her head toward the counter. “Go on, sit. Let me cook for you, will you?”

You take her in for a beat longer before moving to grab the glass, leaning against the island to watch her work. You know better than to argue when she’s like this. Comfortable in her home, in her skin, in the rhythm of a domestic moment she’d once sworn wasn’t her thing.

And maybe it still isn’t. But she lets it be with you.

Vi moves easily around the kitchen, shifting a pan with practiced flicks of her wrist, tossing in a handful of basil like she’s done this a hundred times before. You sip at the wine she poured for you, content to let the soft sounds of sizzling garlic and her low hum fill the space.

“You cook like this for all your hookups?” you ask lightly, tracing the rim of your glass with one finger.

Vi smirks without looking up. “Only the ones who handle my tour schedule and have full access to my financials.”

You huff a laugh. “Careful, Lanes. You’re starting to sound a little clingy..”

She tosses you a look over her shoulder, eyes bright and teasing. “You’re the one who came all this way just to see me. Don’t act like I’m the clingy one.”

“Mm. You called me.”

“Touché.”

She sets the sauce to simmer and wipes her hands on the towel slung over her shoulder. Then she’s crossing the space between you, slow and deliberate, until she’s standing between your knees. Her hands slide up your thighs and rest just beneath the hem of your shirt.

“I missed you,” she says, the teasing edge gone from her voice. “More than I probably should have.”

You look up at her, searching her face for the sincerity you already know is there. “Yeah?”

Vi nods and leans in to kiss you again, mouth warm and familiar. She takes her time with it, lips parting just enough to pull a small sound from you. When she pulls back, her voice is low. “Thought about you every damn day.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

Vi’s smile shifts into something eager, almost conspiratorial. Her hands are already at your waistband, fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants. You lift your hips without hesitation, letting her ease them down just enough to expose the tops of your thighs and the line of your underwear.

She sinks to her knees, hands running up and down your bare skin with a reverence that borders on obscene. She drags your pants the rest of the way down as she goes. “You wanna know how I got through those long nights in Vegas?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the words catch when she leans in and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the inside of your thigh. Then another, closer to where you’re already aching for her. Her hands settle on your hips, firm and grounding.

“Thought about this,” she murmurs against your skin. “The way you taste, the way you sound when I get you worked up, how fuckin’ mean you get. Drove myself crazy.”

Another kiss lands over the damp heat of your underwear, sloppy and lingering. She noses along the seam, breathing you in with a low, satisfied hum that vibrates right through your core. You thread your fingers into her hair, heart pounding against your ribs.

Vi doesn’t wait for permission. She never does. She slips your panties to the side with two fingers and dives in with a moan that vibrates through your core. 

Her mouth is hot, sloppy, ravenous. She licks you like she missed you more than she can admit, like she needs this to live. Her tongue slides through your folds, her nose bumping against your clit as she moans into you.

You lean back on your elbows, watching her work, your fingers already tangling in her hair. She’s making a mess of you, wet sounds filling the kitchen as she devours you with single-minded focus.

"Is that really your best?" you ask, voice cool. You yank her head back by the hair just enough to look into her eyes. "Because right now? It feels lazy."

Vi pants against you, cheeks flushed, lips wet. "Fuck you."

"Not until you earn it."

You push her head back down and grind against her mouth. She whines, but she doesn’t resist. Your fingers tighten in her hair, holding her exactly where you want her. You set the pace, fucking her mouth until she starts doing better, until those moans turn broken and bleed into helpless whimpers.

She tries to tease you again, tongue slowing just a little, testing your patience. That earns her a sharp pull to the scalp and a withering look from you. It clearly only serves to turn her on more. "You want to be difficult? Fine. I'll finish without you."

Vi whimpers.

"Then stop fucking around."

She snaps back to it, tongue moving fast and purposeful, sucking your clit between her lips like she finally remembers what you like. Her hands grip your thighs tighter now, grounding herself as you pull her even closer. Her mouth is filthy, her moans desperate. You're right there, and she knows it. You feel her murmuring against you, hot, broken pleas that only make your release come faster.

When you come, it’s with your head thrown back and a hand fisted tight in Vi's hair. She keeps her mouth on you the whole time, letting you ride out every last wave, only stopping when your thighs start to tremble from overstimulation.

You pull her back by the hair, slowly. She’s flushed, mouth shiny, eyes hazy. You rub your thumb over her spit-slick bottom lip.

"Now that," you say, breathless, "was better."

Vi looks wrecked. She grins anyway. "Told you I missed you."

You lean down and kiss her hard, tasting yourself on her lips, claiming her in every sense of the word.

Vi stands on trembling legs as you instruct her to get back to dinner; you slip your underwear back into place and pull your pants up without bothering to button them. They’ll be right back off in a few minutes anyway, so there’s really no need. 

And that’s how it is between the two of you sometimes: sex, a nice dinner and the time simply melting away. 

Sometimes, though, it’s much riskier.

—

It’s been a long shoot day. You’ve been managing half a dozen people, answering too many questions, reviewing footage, and trying to make sure everything runs on schedule. And then there’s Vi.

Vi, who keeps casting you smug little smirks between takes. Who "accidentally" misses her marks. Who saunters up to you every time the cameras stop rolling just to press a kiss to your cheek when she knows damn well she shouldn’t be touching you in public. 

Vi, who’s sitting in the makeup chair now and spinning slowly, round and round, kicking her boots against the wood like a kid who’s just discovered what being annoying can get her. You’re doing your best to ignore her antics, you easily bury yourself in the countless emails you’ve got.

"You know, Boss," she says, real casual, like she hasn’t been grating your last nerve since lunch. “You look real tense. Want me to rub your shoulders? Or ride your face? I’m generous like that.”

You level a look at her. Vi grins.

She’s testing you. She’s been testing you all damn day. And you’ve been good. You’ve been so good. Because there are cameras. There are stylists and lighting techs and assistants. Because you’ve got to be the responsible one. But now you’re alone in the dressing room while everyone’s setting up the next scene, and she’s still talking.

“I mean, I’m just saying,” Vi adds, standing from the chair and stretching in that deliberately slow way she does, arms above her head, tank top riding up just enough to show off the waistband of her boxers. “If you’re so stressed, I could help.”

You cross the room slowly, watching her eyes light up when she realizes she’s finally pushed you far enough.

“Hands on the dresser,” you say quietly, firmly. “Bend over.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move. But you can see it: the way her throat bobs when she swallows. The slight shift in her stance like her body’s already heating up, anticipating what’s coming.

Then Vi obeys. And it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

She plants her hands against the vanity, arching her back just slightly. She looks at you in the mirror, eyes wide and a little smug. “This better not fuck up my makeup,” she says, but it’s breathless. You take a slow step behind her and press a hand between her shoulder blades, making her fold more fully over the dresser.

“You should’ve thought about your makeup,” you murmur, voice low and sharp, “before you spent the last four hours acting like a spoiled little brat.”

Vi shivers. Her smirk falters just a little, and you catch the way her fingers tighten against the wood.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

You lean down, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Don’t lie to me now. You begged for this.”

You curl your fingers into the waistband of Vi’s sweats and yank them down to mid-thigh, her boxers caught in the same tug. She gasps softly, biting down on the inside of her cheek as the cold air licks at her skin. Her ass is already pink from the spanking, a delicious contrast to the black ink of her thigh tattoos and the tension in her frame.

“Hands flat, feet planted,” you murmur, close to her ear. “And stay quiet.”

“Not really my forte,” she says, voice shaking just enough to betray her anticipation.

Your fingers skim the crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, careful not to give her what she wants. Not yet. Vi’s hips twitch. She’s always like this: bratty, stubborn, aching to be broken down and remade in your hands. You trail one hand over the curve of her ass, squeeze, then slap hard enough to make her jolt and groan.

“This what you’ve been acting up for?” you ask.

“No,” she says, the word tinged in amusement. 

You slap her again, harder this time. She gasps, but holds her place.

“You sure? Because I can keep going like this until your knees give out.”

She moans quietly, pressing her forehead to the mirror. “Yes, fuck, fine. You’re just too put together all the time. Somebody’s gotta loosen you up.”

You hum, finally letting your fingers drift between her thighs. She’s soaked. You drag two fingers through it, not slipping inside—just letting the slickness coat your fingertips. Her thighs quiver as you bump her clit and just as quickly retreat.

“Of course you’re dripping. All it takes is a little discipline, huh?”

Vi whimpers, turning her head so she can see you over her shoulder. “Please.”

“Please what?”

She tries to grind her hips back into your touch, but you quickly correct the behavior with another hard swat at her ass. Her hips still and she makes a small, desperate sound. She knows, just like you do, that you don’t have a lot of time.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Vi says, voice bordering on petulant. “You know what I want. Pretty sure you want it, too.”

“Is that how we ask for things?” You lean in to whisper it in her ear and revel in the way they go a little pink at the tips. You circle her clit in slow, lazy circles and watch as she fights not to keep her hips still. “I don’t know how long you plan to keep playing this little game, but we don’t have forever.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” she says instantly. Like reflex. Then, she seems to think better of it. “...Fuck me with your fingers…please. I’ll be on my best fuckin’ behavior.”

Normally, you would drag it out considerably more. It’s a true joy to reduce a woman so frequently larger than life to a crying, begging mess. But, simply put, there isn't time. “I’ll remember your poor manners for later,” you promise. 

You press two fingers inside her without another word. Her head falls forward, a raw moan escaping her lips. You curl your fingers just right and start working her over with steady, relentless precision. Vi clings to the dresser like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, panting and trying so hard to stay quiet like you told her to.

“That’s it,” you mutter. “That’s what you get when you behave.”

She nods, breathless, hips rocking back to meet every thrust. You reach around with your other hand, thumb circling her clit in slow, tight strokes. Vi’s legs shake under her and her voice starts to slip past her lips in soft, gasped whimpers.

“Such a mess for me,” you murmur. “You like when I fuck the attitude out of you, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” she breathes, so close. “I love it.”

You’re well and truly fucking your fingers into her, basking in every little punched out moan you pull from her . Vi is so close she’s shaking, her knees barely holding her up, hips rolling back into your touch with frantic rhythm. Her breaths are short and ragged, her hands pressed flat to the dresser just like you told her.

“Please,” she whispers, voice cracking. “Please, baby, I’m right there.”

“I know,” you murmur, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You’re doing so well.”

She shudders under your praise, body tightening like a bowstring.

Then—

A knock. Sharp. Followed by a voice from the other side of the dressing room door.

“Vi? We need you on set in five. Are you almost ready?”

You freeze, fingers still snug inside her, the pad of your thumb barely hovering over her clit. Vi lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between a whine and a sob, her forehead dropping against the mirror.

You push your fingers in slow, letting Vi feel the stretch. It’s clear she’s letting herself get lost in it, completely ignoring the person just on the other side of the door. And you can’t have anyone getting suspicious.

“She asked you a question,” you say, quiet and cold.

Vi grits her teeth, her hips stuttering against the building pressure. “Be—” Her voice cracks and she tries again, shakier this time. “Be right there!”

“Good girl.” Your fingers curl inside her, your thumb making tight, fast circles across her clit. You watch the way she arches into the touch, the pants falling free from her lips. She jerks forward, biting down on her own forearm to muffle the scream building in her throat.

She comes like that, trembling and desperate and completely at your mercy, her entire body contracting around your fingers as she lets the orgasm crash over her in trembling silence.

“Now get back to work,” you say, pulling her pants back up over her ass. “Swing by my place when you’re done.”

Vi turns and wraps her arms around your waist. “You’re leaving?” She asks, voice soft around the edges. And she’s looking into your eyes like a lost puppy. It really is unbearably cute. 

“Yep. I’m gonna lay across my bed, fully naked and fuck myself open until you get there,” you answer. You watch as her face flushes, a grin breaking out across her lips. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll have forgiven you by then.” It’s a lie and you both know it. 

“Can’t wait,” Vi says, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. 

—

It’s not often that Vi asks for anything plainly. She’s all suggestive comments and lazy assumptions, convinced she doesn’t need to beg because you’ll always end up giving her what she wants anyway. But a few days before the show, she calls you directly and there’s something in her voice that sets her apart from every other interaction you’ve had.

“I want you to come,” she says. No slyness, no teasing. Just raw honesty. “It’s a big night. I want you there.”

It isn’t even a choice. You say yes before she’s even done talking.

Now you’re backstage, leaning against the cool cement wall just a few feet off the wings of the stage. The house lights are dimming, the crowd of fans beyond the curtains an endless sea of bodies, their buzz already palpable, vibrating in your teeth and your chest. You can hear them shouting, stamping, calling for the band to come out like they’ve all been waiting a lifetime.

Your arms are crossed loosely, but your attention is razor-sharp, zeroed in on the movement near the far side of the stage. Vi appears first, guitar already strapped over her shoulder, the stage lights catching the glint of her chains, the shocking pink of her tousled hair. She’s dressed like she always is for these moments: low-slung jeans with the waistband of her boxers proudly on display, a tank top that clings to her frame, showing off her tattoos, the view entirely indecent.

The applause hits as soon as she steps into the light, deafening and almost aggressive. Your pulse responds accordingly, as if your body is feeding off the crowd's energy by proxy.

Sevika saunters out next, twirling a drumstick between her fingers. C.K. emerges from the opposite side, mask already in place, head down, shoulders set in that quiet intensity she carries like a second skin. And then Jinx, of course, skipping out like a bomb with a pulled pin, grinning from ear to ear, hands raised like she’s blessing her congregation.

Vi’s the last to approach the mic, the rest of the band already in position. She doesn’t speak right away. Just stands there, letting the frenzy of the audience wash over her. She looks out into the darkness like she can see the faces of every single person that got them here, that packed this place wall to wall just for them.

When she finally speaks, her voice is a low purr that still carries through the mic, dripping with casual charm. “Happy fucking anniversary, huh?”

The crowd screams back their approval, a wall of sound.

“You know full well who the fuck we are,” Jinx says, riding the wave Vi’s started. “It’s been a long journey to get this here. If you would’ve told baby Jinx and Vi that one day they’d be playing sold out shows, I would’ve laughed in your face. Hard.” There’s a ripple of cheers and laughter; Jinx always lights up under the attention. “But here we are! And, boy, have we got a show for you!”

“Wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else, sis,” Vi says, yanking Jinx into a hug that seems to take her totally by surprise. You see a million cameras flash to capture the moment. 

Vi releases her sister and hustles back to her spot.

You watch her in profile as she slings her guitar into place. She looks good under the lights, the lean cut of her arms, the practiced ease of her hands on the strings. You know those hands in other contexts, on your body, in your mouth, curled tight in your hair. You think about the way her voice sounds when she’s right against your ear, the way she begs and whines. You think about how tonight, after the show, she’ll be buzzing from the high of the stage, desperate to blow off steam, and you’ll be more than happy to give her that outlet. You’ll remind her who keeps her grounded.

The music kicks in, hard and fast, a thrumming bassline that reverberates straight through the soles of your feet. Vi tears into the first riff, her body moving with the rhythm like it’s muscle memory, like her guitar is just another extension of herself. She’s in her element here, head tilted back, eyes hooded, hair falling wild around her face.

And she knows exactly where you are. She steals glances between verses, finds you in the dark, mouth curling into a smirk when your eyes meet. It’s a look you’ve seen a hundred times before in hotel rooms and greenrooms and the backseat of her car. It says tonight’s yours, boss, just you wait.

Jinx is spinning across the stage, climbing on amps, nearly eating it twice but catching herself with the same chaotic grace that keeps the crowd glued to her every erratic movement. Sevika’s arms are steady and brutal on the kit, her gaze flicking to C.K. now and then to keep the unspoken communication alive between drummer and bassist. The whole band moves like one organism, electric and loud and so goddamn alive.

You lean against the wall and let yourself enjoy it. The show. The music. The certainty that later, when the lights come down and the last encore is played, Vi will find you, still flushed with adrenaline, and drag you somewhere dark and private.

You think about the things she’ll beg for, the things she’ll call you when she forgets herself completely.

The lights go up and the crowd is still roaring, but backstage the energy has already begun to settle into that warm, post-show haze. The band filters off one by one, each of them slick with sweat, drunk on adrenaline but grinning ear to ear. You’re waiting just inside the hallway, the pulse of the venue still thudding faintly through the walls, your body practically humming from proximity alone.

Jinx finds you first, bounding over and throwing her arms around your shoulders, still vibrating like she’s got electricity running under her skin. “We fuckin’ killed that, huh?”

You chuckle, steadying her before she can knock you both over. “You killed it, Jinx. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

“Too late!” She’s already peeling off toward the rest of the crew, tossing waves and blowing kisses, basking in the last dregs of applause.

Sevika brushes past next, towel slung over her shoulder, the collar of her shirt stretched from yanking it off during the encore. She pauses just long enough to nudge your arm with a fist. “You sticking around for the after-party?”

“Doubt it,” you reply, already anticipating the real reason you’re not staying. “I’ve got other plans.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Sevika snorts, but there’s no malice in it. She moves on, calling after Jinx.

Caitlyn walks by with her mask already off, face flushed from the heat but collected as always. She offers a small smile and a quiet, “Good to see you,” before following the others.

You’re scanning the crowd for Vi when your phone buzzes in your pocket. One look and your stomach flips.

Vi: wanna get outta here? wait by my car. Vi: wanna put my mouth on you already

You huff out a breath and pocket your phone, weaving your way toward the back exit. No one pays you much attention. That’s the point. You leave first, like you always do, and wait in the shadow of Vi’s black muscle car parked just outside the artist entrance.

It only takes a couple of minutes before you hear her boots on the pavement. She rounds the corner, jacket slung over her shoulder, damp hair pushed back, still flushed from the show. She sees you waiting and grins wide and cocky, like she’s already won.

Then she’s on you.

Vi crowds you against the car without hesitation, her mouth slanting over yours before you can get a word out. She kisses like she plays—hungry, all teeth and tongue, hands bracketing your hips before sliding lower, her fingers skimming beneath the hem of your shirt like she’s already claiming the skin beneath.

You make the mistake of moaning into her mouth, which only encourages her. Her hands go bolder, squeezing your ass, grinding her hips forward like she can’t even be bothered to wait until you’re somewhere private.

You break the kiss with a gasp, lips wet, still panting into her mouth. “Vi—”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Get in the fucking car,” you order, voice low and tight. “Get us home. I’m sick of waiting.”

Vi grins, cocky and unrepentant. “Yes, ma’am.”

She presses one last kiss to your jaw, all mock sweetness, before finally pulling back to open the door. You’re already sliding into the passenger seat, pulse racing, thighs pressed tight together.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Vi's on you again—grabbing at your hips, trying to crowd you against the wall. But you’re quicker, stronger when she’s all pliant for you. You spin her, pressing her back to the door with a heavy thud, one hand wrapping around her throat, the other braced above her head.

Her breath catches, pupils blown wide already, that signature grin starting to creep back. She loves when you catch her like this—when you remind her who she belongs to. She tests your grip anyway, dragging her hands under your shirt, cool fingers skating up your sides.

You tighten your grip just slightly, enough to get your point across. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Vi swallows hard, her hands freezing. “Yes, ma’am.”

You lean in close, just enough for her to feel the heat of your breath on her lips without the satisfaction of a kiss. Then you step back and nod toward the stairs. “Upstairs. Now.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She practically jogs up the stairs, the sound of her boots thudding against each step, and you follow at a more deliberate pace. You want her flustered. You want her desperate.

When you reach the bedroom, she’s already standing there waiting, practically vibrating. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, and tilt your chin up at her.

“Undress,” you tell her, voice level, commanding. “Here.”

She steps between your legs without hesitation, standing right where you want her. Her eyes don’t leave yours as she peels off her jacket and tosses it aside. Then she grips the hem of her shirt, pulling it off slow, all the while rolling her hips just a little—like she’s still on stage performing for a crowd.

It’s all for you.

She shimmies out of her jeans next, dragging them down with a little wiggle of her hips, bare legs flexing as she steps out of them. She kicks them away carelessly, left only in her boxers and the sports bra clinging to her chest. The ink of her tattoos stands out stark against her flushed skin.

She hooks her thumbs in her waistband, pausing, watching your face like she’s waiting to see if you’ll crack.

You don’t. You keep your face steady, unimpressed, though your pulse is already hammering in your throat.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you murmur.

Vi grins as she peels her boxers down her thighs, slow enough to tease, dragging the soft fabric over the curve of her ass and the muscles of her legs. She kicks them aside and stands fully naked between your legs, shoulders back like she’s showing off. She is.

Her body’s already warm with color, her skin flushed with anticipation. She knows she’s gorgeous like this—cocky and unashamed—but still, her eyes flick to yours, looking for that flicker of approval.

You don’t give it to her yet. You keep your face even, one eyebrow ticking up like you’re still deciding if she’s done well enough. She squirms just a little under your gaze, her hands twitching at her sides, like she doesn’t know where to put them.

“Like what you see?” she asks, voice breathy and rougher than she probably intended. There’s a wobble under the playfulness, like she can’t quite keep herself steady under your attention.

You hum, eyes dragging over every inch of her, slow and deliberate. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, letting it catch there as you admire her. “You know I do, baby,” you tell her, voice soft and warm, full of the kind of honesty that always gets under her skin. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

That earns you a flush that creeps from her chest to her cheeks. She looks away, fussing with her hair, trying to act like it’s no big deal, but the nervous habit betrays her. She always does this when she doesn’t know what to do with your sincerity. You smile, fond, as you stand and gesture to the bed. “C’mere and lay down for me.”

Vi obeys without argument, grinning like she’s still got the upper hand, like she thinks she knows exactly where this is headed. She drops onto the bed with a satisfying bounce, stretching out like she’s expecting to be pampered. She props herself up on her elbows to keep you in view, her eyes hungry as they follow your every movement.

You strip slowly, letting her watch the reveal of your skin piece by piece, each discarded item joining the pile she left behind. The room feels thick with it now. Anticipation, tension, want that neither of you have bothered to hide.

By the time you’re climbing onto the mattress, her eyes have darkened considerably. That smirk she wears, the one that always promises trouble, starts to waver when you settle between her thighs and start dragging your palms up the length of her legs, parting them just enough to make her breath catch.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night. Having you under me like this,” you murmur, lips brushing over the jut of her hip. Your teeth scrape lightly against her skin, just enough to sting. “You gonna be good?”

She shivers beneath you, muscles twitching. “Yeah,” she whispers, throat bobbing on the swallow.

You close your mouth around her, finding her already so wet from just the anticipation of what you’re going to do for her. You start out with long, deliberate licks, unhurried, savoring her. It barely takes anything rile Vi up. You mouth at her clit until she’s moaning, hips lifting to chase your mouth. 

The sounds she makes are soft at first, the occasional gasp, a breathy curse, but the longer you tease, the more she squirms. You feel it, every little tremble in her thighs, every sharp inhale when you get too close to the spot she wants most.

Just when her breathing picks up, when her body starts to shake in that telltale way that means she’s close, you pull back. She lets out a broken, frustrated groan, her head dropping back onto the bed, fists curling tight in the sheets.

“You’re fucking evil,” she huffs, panting, her voice ragged.

You smirk, nails dragging lightly down the inside of her thighs, leaving trails of flushed skin in your wake. “You know what to do if you want it.”

Vi whines, twisting beneath you, eyes pleading. You watch in vague amusement as she bites the inside of her cheek; she always pretends to hate this part but you can see the shift in her. The way her breathing speeds up, the way her fingers twitch to touch you. “Please,” she gasps, finally. “With sugar on top,” she can’t help but add. Anything to lessen the suffocating pleasure.

You lap lazily at her again, slow enough to make her sob. “No. Be patient or I stop,” you warn, voice low and firm, even as you keep her right there, straddling the edge.

By the time you work her up again, she’s shaking so hard it’s a wonder she hasn’t snapped already. Her hips stutter, trying to fuck your mouth on instinct, and her hands fly to her hair, tugging, like she can ground herself with the pain.

“Hold it,” you repeat, firmer now, when you feel that pulse under your tongue.

“I can’t,” she whimpers, nearly crying with it. “Please, I can’t—I’m so close.”

“Ask me nicely.”

Her breathing stutters, and her hands clench tighter in her hair. When she looks down at you, her eyes are wet, shining with need. “Please, please let me come. I’ll be good, I’ll be so fucking good for you. Just let me have it, I need you so bad, please.”

That does it. You grin against her, finally satisfied. “Good job,” you say, entirely patronizing and smug. “You can come.”

She allows herself to grind her cunt against your eager tongue with reckless abandon, her mouth falling open to mutter and whine words that slur together. 

Her whole body goes taut, back arching high off the bed before collapsing again. She shudders through it, loud and filthy, her hips jerking helplessly with every flick of your tongue until she’s boneless, gasping, thoroughly spent.

You press a kiss to Vi’s thigh, then another higher up, lips dragging over sweat-slick skin. She’s still trembling, still catching her breath, but the look she gives you is nothing short of starved.

You hum, pleased with her wrecked state, and crawl up the length of her body until you’re nose to nose. She’s flushed and sweaty, lips kiss-bitten, eyes heavy-lidded but still burning for more.

“You earned yourself a reward,” you murmur, brushing your mouth against hers, not quite kissing yet. “You want it, baby?”

Vi nods without hesitation, swallowing thickly. “'Course I do.”

You cock your head, smiling faintly. “You wanna fuck me? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

She grabs weakly at your waist like she’d drag you down right now if she could. “Need you to fuck me,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “I wanna be full. Need it rough, boss.”

There’s something sweet in the way she asks, even when she’s desperate for it. You kiss her, slow but heavy, your tongue sweeping into her mouth until she’s gasping into it. “Good girl,” you praise, just before you pull back. “Hold tight.”

You slide off the bed, naked and still flushed from everything that’s come before. Vi watches you, gaze tracking your every movement as you cross the room to where you keep the harness stashed.

She licks her lips when you pull it on, adjusting the straps snugly against your hips. She can’t tear her eyes away once you’re fully strapped in, her chest rising and falling faster just at the sight.

Once you’re back in bed, you stretch out on your back and gesture her closer with a crook of your finger. “C’mere. On top.”

Vi wastes no time shifting on the bed, straddling your waist with that crooked grin you love so much. But there’s something softer beneath the bravado—a tremble in her thighs, the way her breath hitches as she lowers herself until her cunt brushes against the silicone. You let your hands roam up the backs of her thighs, slow and easy, feeling the way her muscles twitch under your palms.

“Wanna make sure you’re ready,” you tell her, your voice a low rumble meant just for her. You slip a hand between her legs, fingers gliding easily through the wet mess she’s already made. She’s soaked, your name practically written between her legs, but you slide two fingers in anyway, curling them just right, feeling the way she clamps down instantly.

Vi lets out a guttural moan, bracing her hands on your chest, hips rolling in little needy circles. “More,” she pants. “Fuck, I want more.”

You oblige her, working her open with your fingers, slow but firm, making sure she feels every inch of it. She whines, hips canting down, desperate for more friction, more stretch, more of anything you’ll give her.

“You sure you’re ready?” you ask, though your cock is already slicked with her, lined up and pulsing with anticipation.

“Yes,” she growls, practically shaking, “fuck me.” She pauses for a moment and then, remembering her manners, adds, "Please."

You grin and guide her hips, holding steady as she sinks down, slow at first. She lets out a strangled sound, breath stuttering, eyes fluttering shut as she takes you deeper.

Vi tries to take control, riding you with all that bratty confidence still clinging to her, her hands braced on your stomach for leverage. She bounces on your cock with a sharp rhythm, panting hard, her face scrunched up in concentration like she’s determined to make a show of it.

But it doesn’t last. She starts to falter, hips shaking, pace stuttering every time she sinks too deep. The slick drag of her pussy around you gets messier, louder, and her thighs are already trembling like she’s barely holding herself up.

You grin, watching her struggle, hands resting lazily on her hips. “What’s the matter, baby? That all you’ve got? Thought you were gonna show me how bad you needed it.”

She lets out a whimper, trying to keep moving, but she’s uncoordinated and desperate, eyes squeezed shut. You let her flail for a few more seconds before you’ve had enough.

Your hands clamp down on her hips, hard enough to bruise, and you start fucking up into her, heavy, punishing thrusts that drive her right back into the mattress with every bounce.

Vi cries out, head dropping back, mouth open and sloppy sounds pouring out without shame. Every sharp snap of your hips has her yelping, her whole body rocking with the force of it.

“That’s better,” you murmur, voice thick with hunger. “This is the Vi no one else gets to see, huh? Everybody out there thinks you’re so dangerous. Hotwired’s wild little guitarist. But here you are—my pretty little pet.”

She moans high and breathy, nails digging into your ribs, but she doesn’t deny it. Can’t.

“You beg to come for me. Make those pretty fucking noises for me. You’re lucky I’m the only one who knows what a mess you really are.”

Vi’s hips are jerking, erratic, like she’s caught between trying to meet your thrusts and just taking it, letting you use her how you want. She’s babbling now, gasped little pleas, your name in a shaky loop, spit pooling in the corners of her mouth.

“You look so fucking pretty like this, baby. Like you’re made to take it. That right?”

“Yeah,” she gasps, barely audible. “Fuck, yeah—please, I can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” you croon, fucking her harder, deeper, the wet sound of her pussy getting louder with each thrust. “You’re gonna take every fucking inch until I say you’re done.”

Vi shatters then, body locking up with a wrecked sob as she clamps down around you, her climax ripping through her so violently it sends her whole body shaking. You don’t stop. You fuck her through it, driving her higher until she’s gone glassy-eyed, until every cry from her mouth is half-formed and breathless.

The rest of the night barely feels real. You don’t let up on her, not for a second, keeping Vi pinned under you or in your lap, tangled in the sheets and each other until the sky outside the window starts to pale with the earliest morning light.

At some point, bodies sore and spent, you both finally crash in the mess of the bed, limbs locked together, your breath still mingling. She whispers something sweet to you, something warm and quiet and meant just for this private space between you, but you’re too far gone, too comfortable to hold onto the exact words. You just know it felt good to hear.

It's morning now, the both of you in the tub, the heat of the water doing its best to soothe the ache deep in your muscles. Vi’s pressed to your side, thigh over yours, idly toying with the wet ends of your hair while you lazily glide a washcloth over her shoulder and down her arm. The two of you trade sleepy barbs, teasing over who wore the other out more, Vi insisting it wasn't your 'best work', even though the bruises on her hips say otherwise.

It’s soft. Easy. Like you’ve done it a hundred times before.

Then Vi’s phone starts buzzing on the tile floor. She groans, stretching just far enough to snag it, drying off her hand on the nearby towel before answering and switching it to speaker.

“What?”

“Bitch!” Jinx’s voice comes through loud and shrill, her tone somewhere between delighted and scandalized. “How the fuck did you manage to keep a secret relationship from me? From us?! I thought we told each other everything!”

Vi barks a laugh, her brows furrowing together in obvious confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and our fucking manager! You’ve been bumping uglies this whole time and didn’t say shit! How long has this been going on?! Sevika says she’s known for months. Cait won’t confirm, but she sounded real smug about it. I feel fucking betrayed!”

You sit up straight, heart dropping into your stomach, already reaching for your phone on instinct. You unlock it, pull up your socials—and sure enough, your feed is flooded.

Pictures. Dozens of them. Of you and Vi at the car after the show, all over each other, making out like the world wasn’t watching. Multiple angles. The articles have already spun it up—Hotwired’s Violet Lanes Spotted in Secret Relationship with Band Manager! Is Our Rebel Girl Finally Settling Down?

“Fuck,” you whisper, scrolling fast, your pulse spiking. “Vi, we’re fucked.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vi chuckles, looking over your shoulder at the screen, completely unbothered. “I think we look hot.”

Taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!!): @izzy-sevika, @shxdy0ariia, @sevikas-whore, @mcqueeferson, @ctrlaltedits, @riotstemple29

[sapphiccup]

||Amour|| ᯓ★

Series master list|| Pairing: Vi x p*rn blog reader || coming soon!

Cw:MDNI 18+ content! Secrets, makeout sessions, text messages,fluff, angst but not heavy, strangers-to-friends, friends-to-fwb, fwb-to-lovers, exes-to-lovers again, very complicated relationship, pornblogger/reddit audio/ reader! Kind of slow burn, pining, yearning, sexual tension, boffum down bad, Vi is a secretive pervert, high key perverted Vi, suggestive themes, eventual smut, tits, Top Vi! SubVi, Switch Vi!, Switch reader, domfem reader, oral, fingering, masturbation, strap on sex, butt plug on reader— smut might be longer than 7k words 🤷🏽‍♀️warning:my fics fuck Vi for a long time maybe even to the next morning aka the next chapter. Not my fault that lady is so fine!

Summary: In the common world you’re just a person who does customer service, goes to cafes or delis, maybe even some beautiful stranger to some when meeting you crossing the street. A friendly innocent person. But when the blackout curtains are shut, and the night is young, you do your own form of pleasure that no one knows but you.. until well.. a certain pink haired woman gets in the mix. In other words it’s getting sticky!

Fanart for reader x Vi: @/honeyboo-1

Dc: @/fic-dumpster

Song: Maneater by Nelly Furtado

—Chapters—

—Prolouge

1_ Shut up and drive

2_ Apartment 47

2.5_ Spilled Sugar

3_???

4_???

Epilogue ???

A/n: wanna be added to the tag list? Comment! :D

[bl00dyb0mi]

vi eating you out thru the panties (before she gets fed up and rips em off)

thas it...thas the tweet.

[streamsofmoon]

18+ | vi x fem!reader

cw: gp!vi

gp!vi who's always heard her partners gasp at how big she is. their eyes widening as they take in her girth, lust and desperation so evident in their eyes. it's something she's used to, something she knows and yeah, it never fails to inflate her ego.

but when you say it? when you gawk at her cock, soft lips parting in awe at the sheer size of her? when you get all flustered, thighs squished together as you look at it before peering up at her?

"y-you're so big," you murmur, albeit shy, as you reach out with slightly shaky hands. "a-are you sure it's gonna fit?"

and vi swears she's never came so hard and so instantly before in her life.

[cosmicamor]

☆ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐔𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 .ᐟ

decided to go back to a google form as there were more difficulties than anticipated with creating a post on here.

tagging some moots in case any of you would like to join (sorry for being annoying) 𐑺

@lovebugcody , @thyme-in-a-bubble , @superhoeva , @bruisedboys , @corrodedcorpses , @sapphireplums , @oncasette , @websterss , @deansbeer , @sunflowerbecca , @vampieteeth , @ker0senebunny , @amourrs , @cherrysadnsss , @galatially , @nottsangel , @tinyluvs , @limerlove , @cosmal , @lovings4turn , @eternalbuckley , @tinytulip , @bradshawed , @crybabyddl , @phefics , @forevermorelovelorn , @rafesthroatbaby , @andieinchains , @moonshapedbox , @dixons-sunshine , @bambidixon , @dixonsdarkelf , @eds6ngel , @tinysunshine , @darylgf , @angelwings-crossbowstrings , @ribbonbiter , @djotummy , @bruisedfig , @lambcunt , @ddixonsangel , @rafessecret , @spinecouture , @lacyydollette , @drewsephrry , @soangelbaby , @ccainesideboob , @dixonsrot , @petalborn .

[e1e4n0r5]

Their Little Plaything: Bonus Scene 10

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue, Bonus Scene 1, Bonus Scene 2, Bonus Scene 3, Bonus Scene 4, Bonus Scene 5, Bonus Scene 6, Bonus Scene 7, Bonus Scene 8, Bonus Scene 9

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Former Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 1366

Synopsis: Just some tooth-rotting fluff for the early days of your relationship

Warnings: FLUFF JUST FUCKING FLUFF FLUFF ALL DAY ALL NIGHT AND YOU WILL LIKE IT!!!

Early relationship, February in Junior year

You smiled at your phone as you took a picture of the squirrel that sat only a few feet from you. You contemplated sending it to the group chat but then changed your mind. You didn’t want to bother your new girlfriends with stupid random pictures. You’d only been together two months; you didn’t want to annoy them already.

Cait called your name as she approached your spot sitting on a stone wall on the quad. “That squirrel’s so close to you,” she said softly, slowing her walk, trying not to scare the animal.

“I know,” you whispered, “I took a photo.” You pouted a little as the squirrel ran off.

“Show me?” Cait asked, stroking your shoulder.

You pulled up the photo, turning your phone so she could see.

She smiled down at it. “Send it to the chat, Vi would love to see it.”

“Really?” you puzzled, even as you did so.

“Shall we get a treat before class?” She held her hand out to you.

Smiling at it, you took her hand in yours, walking together across the quad. You tried to ignore the people looking at you, obviously confused about why Class President Caitlyn Kiramman was holding hands with some random loser girl.

Cait opened the campus coffee shop’s door for you, letting you step inside first. When you did, you waited in line, quietly chatting as you moved forward.

“What are you going to get, sweetheart?” she asked softly in your ear.

You couldn’t suppress your shiver. “Uh, just a cappuccino.”

“You don’t want a snack?”

You hummed. “Not really.”

“Have you eaten since breakfast?”

You paused. “No…”

“What snack are you getting?” she asked pointedly.

“Um…The ham and cheese croissants look good?”

She nodded in approval.

When you got to the front of the counter, she ordered for the two of you. A cappuccino and croissant for you; a hazelnut latte and lemon muffin for her. When it was time to pay, you rummaged through your bag, looking for your purse, when you heard the beep of the card machine. Looking up, confused, you saw Cait putting away her card.

“Cait?”

She smiled at you. “I've got this, baby.”

“But I can do it, you don't need to pay for my things,” you assured her. You knew her family were filthy rich, but you didn't want her to think you were using her for it.

She shook her head. “I want to spoil you, sweetheart. Will you let me do that?” she asked softly, coaxingly. Knowing you couldn't say no.

You acquiesced, smiling gratefully as you picked up your drink and croissant. “Thank you, Cait.”

Later that night, you and Cait were waiting for Vi to get home from the gym after her classes. Cait was adding your streaming account to hers, you sitting next to her trying not to smile too goofily as she did so.

When Vi came in, hair still damp from the post-gym shower, she put her bags down and gratefully flopped down next to you, pulling you close.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, kissing the top of your head.

You cuddled in closer. “Hey.”

Sometimes you still couldn’t believe it was real.

“That squirrel was so cute,” she smiled. “It was so close to you!”

“It was closer last week.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “Last week? Did you get a photo?”

“Yeah!” You pulled out your phone, opening your photo gallery and scrolling back to find the photo.

Vi frowned a little. “What are all those other pics?”

You hummed. “They’re just random photos I took. And some memes I found funny.”

Cait looked over her shoulder, having finished adding your profile to their account. “You save memes to your phone but don’t send them to anyone?”

“I’ve not got anyone to send them to,” you stated absentmindedly, trying to find the other pic of the squirrel. “Apart from Powder.”

Vi put her finger under your chin, pulling your head up to look at her. She looked a bit upset. “Us. You send them to us.”

“But I don’t want to bo-”

“Darling, if you are about to say the word ‘bother’, we’re going to have a problem,” Cait threatened lightly.

Vi tapped your phone with her finger. “Send us those pics. Now. All those pics and memes that you didn’t want to send because you didn’t want to bother us.”

“And in the future, darling, you send them to us straightaway. You’re not bothering, or annoying, or disturbing us by messaging us things you like.”

“I’m not?” you asked quietly.

Sometimes they forgot you’d never been in a relationship before. Remembering that made them soften.

“Baby,” Vi said, more softly, “Couples are supposed to message each other with stupid stuff. It’s one of the perks of having a girlfriend: you send each other random shit just because you want to be in contact that person.”

“Don’t you miss us during the day?” Cait asked, already knowing the answer.

“Well, yeah…”

“This way you can miss us a little less, and feel more connected to us when we’re apart.”

“Does that make sense, sweetheart?” Vi gently kissed the top of your head.

You nodded.

“Good. Now send us everything, baby. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Baby?” Vi asked from her spot on the bar stool. You and Cait were making dinner at the counter, Vi’s night off.

“Yeah?” you replied, chopping carrots.

“How many siblings did you say you had?”

You paused, moving the chopped carrots into a pan. “Uh, I didn't? I don't have any.”

Vi tapped away on her phone. “So, just you and your parents?”

“Just me and mum. Dad left when I was two; it's been just the two of us since. She had the occasional boyfriend, but it's mostly just been us. It's why we're so close.”

Vi nodded. “Noted. Do you have a favourite vacation spot?”

You looked back at her. “Why are you asking these random questions?”

She looked a bit defensive. “I’m allowed to ask my girlfriend things. I just want to know more about you. Okay?” she said, with some fake testiness.

You just chuckled back. “Alright, okay.”

“Good. Now did you have any pets growing up?”

Cait kissed the top of your head from behind as you sat with Vi on the sofa. “We’re going to the spa this weekend, do you want to come with us?”

You tilted your head back, looking up at her smiling down at you. “Are you sure? You two don't want to go by yourselves? I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don't be dumb, baby,” Vi chided absently as she scrolled on her phone.

“No, we’d love you to come!”

“How much is it?” you asked awkwardly.

Cait gave you an unimpressed look. “Darling, you’re not paying.”

“But-!” you started to protest but Vi clamped her hand over your mouth.

Cait smiled down at you again. “You can get whatever you want, sweetheart. Vi just gets a deep tissue massage and spends some time in the pool and sauna.”

“But Miss Kiramman over here,” Vi teased, “gets just about every service they offer.”

“Facials, mani-pedis, my waxes, massages...But you can have whatever you'd like, darling. Or you can just relax in the pool and sauna with Vi, it's up to you,” she bent down, kissing your forehead. “What do you say?”

Vi's hand still on your mouth, you nodded, mumbling a thank you.

Vi put her phone down. “You know, having my hand here,” she tenderly squeezed your cheeks, “has turned me on more than it should.”

Cait smirked. “Well, how do you propose we deal with that for you?”

Keeping her hand over your mouth, Vi moved off the couch and knelt in front of you. “Well, Cupcake, if you give me my hand back,” they smoothly swapped hands, Cait's soft skin keeping you quiet, “I have both of mine, to use our girl like she deserves.”

An hour later, you were thoroughly unravelled on the sofa, Vi's chest and stomach soaked with your squirt after she fucked three fingers into you, Cait's hands over your mouth as you screamed for them.

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup, @all-things-lilac, @m0ss-gremlin, @winter-19, @kamy-thee-egg

[cobaltperun]

if it doesn't take too much of your time, could you do vi x reader where g!p reader has slow sex with vi after being tired and frustrated from work and vi just kinda gives in and takes it to comfort?

Loving you is Easy

SMUT! Bottom Vi x Top G!P Female Reader

Summary: A long day at work makes you miss the dinner you and Vi planned and all you want to do is make it up to her.

Warning: Smut in the second half of the chapter, minors do not interact. Gentle sex, fingering, vaginal sex, girl penis Reader, top Reader, bottom Vi.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you finally finished today's shift, exactly three and a half hours later than you were supposed to.

"Good work today, Y/N," your boss dismissed you and you bit back a retort, seeing as you needed this job. But that was the reality of life, it seemed. Lately, whenever you made plans with Vi one of you would get caught up at work and wouldn't be able to make it in time. And today was no different.

You were keeping it simple this time, not testing your luck, and even then it wasn't enough. What was supposed to be an easy night at home, the two of you cooking a dinner together and then just relaxing with a drink or two ended up being a night you had to spend at work because one of your coworkers got sick and you had to jump in.

So, with a heavy heart, you put on your jacket and left the building, hoping you could make up for your absence. Vi certainly deserved better than this.

~X~

When you came back home it was already way past the dinner time and you cursed yourself for being late, for not being able to work something out and arrive in time. You were met with the sight of Vi sitting on the couch, the scent of delicious food you planned on cooking together hit you like one of Vi's gauntlets and the guilt crawled right back to the front of your mind. Especially when Vi noticed you and smiled, not looking one bit bothered by the extended shift you couldn't avoid.

"Hey there," she opened her arms for you, and you closed the distance, leaning down and hugging her, letting her hug you in the way only she knew how to. The warmth, the tight yet somehow soft hold she had on you, made you melt into her touch.

"Sorry I'm late," you whispered, kissing her cheek.

"It's okay, I understand," you didn't though, you could hear the sound of water boiling in the kitchen. She made the food herself, the dinner you were supposed to make together she made all on her own. So, no, you didn't understand how she kept being so understanding.

"I should have been here," you still blamed yourself, wanted her to at least be a bit annoyed. But she just ruffled your hair and kissed you softly. You wished you could say Vi felt like home, but home never felt this safe.

"Life likes throwing wrenches into every plan we make," she said with an easy smile. "Besides, you're here when it matters. Making a dinner on my own every now and then is fine," you loved her, more than anything, more than you ever loved anyone. "Come on now, before the food gets cold," she pulled you along, not that she had to, you'd follow her anywhere if needed.

~X~

After Vi and you ate the dinner and you washed the dishes you leaned against the kitchen counter, exhaustion from the long day finally catching up to you. Almost twelve hours at work definitely wasn't fun. Your entire body was tense, muscles aching as you fought the urge to just close your eyes for a moment.

Vi approached you from behind and wrapped her arm around your waist while she ran her fingers along your left arm. "You're tense," she kissed your shoulder from behind and you leaned your head back, taking a deep breath, her scent making you pause, soothing you. "Let me help," she began massaging your shoulders, finding the knots and making you groan as relief flooded you.

"Vi, Babe," you've always been weak to her touch, always a tad bit too easy to respond to her.

"Hm? What is it?" she knew exactly what was wrong, what she was doing to you. Even if you were sure her intentions were pure and she actually just intended to relax you.

"I'm getting worked up," and you felt it in your pants as well, which wasn't exactly how you intended the night to go, and you were too tired to go for multiple rounds, but still...

Vi hummed and pulled you along to the bedroom. The look in her eyes left no doubt in your mind. "You're tired," she whispered and you grinned, finding remnants of your strength as you sat down on the bed and pulled her onto your lap.

"I'm not that tired. You just relax and let me make it up to you," you caressed her sides, feeling the hard muscles underneath the fabric, the heat underneath your fingertips drove you mad as the two of you kissed. The softness of the kiss set the pace, each touch, each move of your lips elaborate and slow, your bodies already in sync with one another, already tangled together, hands already roaming, teasing, getting both of you worked up. "Vi," you moaned softly, brushing your thumb against the side of her breast, teasing her, promising another touch, and the one after that, and many more to come throughout the night.

She ran her fingers through your hair, pressed against you as you kissed her neck, taking your time with each kiss, drinking in the sound of her breathing, just slightly labored, subtly telling you what to do to her. Each kiss made the exhaustion slip from your thoughts, replacing it with Vi, with wanting her, loving her, with the desire to make her feel good.

You shivered as her hand trailed a path down your side, to the hem of your shirt before she lifted it up, bit by bit, her fingers blazing a path on your bare skin. You dragged your upper lip down her neck, to her shoulder and she held onto you tighter, her arms flexing as her thighs spread slightly. You traced parts of her tattoos with your fingers, kissing whatever was within reach before you finally took your sweet time taking her shirt off and she did the same, taking your own shirt off just moments later. "Just enjoy yourself," you reminded her as you leaned down and kissed her shoulder, and then slowly went lower, down to her breasts, until you reached her stiff nipple and gently flicked it with your tongue before kissing it.

The soft gasps filled the room as you pulled Vi down onto the bed with you and got on top of her, kissing and touching every inch of upper body. "She didn't usually just let you do whatever you wanted to like this, "I missed you," she whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear, and you were reminded of how tired of your plans getting screwed she was as well.

"I'm here now," and it was as if those words freed both of you and Vi relaxed entirely, her body responding on instinct, her breathing getting quicker, and occasional moans filling the room. She arched into your touch, held onto you, pulled you closer to her with each touch of your fingers, each lick of your tongue or kiss of your lips left on her body unraveling her in your arms.

"Y/N," she moaned softly as she spread her legs for you and you slowly pushed your hand inside her panties, teasing her wet pussy, soaking your fingers with her juices. "There," she gasped and you leaned your forehead against her shoulder, groaning as your pants got uncomfortably tighter.

Vi rolled her hips as you pushed two fingers inside her pussy, gently fingering her. She tilted your head up, pulling you closer and kissing you, once, twice, over and over again, each kiss interrupted by her soft gasps. Her pussy, warm and wet, clenched around your fingers. Time seemed to slow down, the tender touches, light kisses, they consumed both of you, and then she came, her body trembling slightly and muscles tensing as the steady pace pushed her over the edge and she moaned your name again, just slightly louder than before, but enough to show you exactly how much you affected her.

"Need you," you both whispered at the same time, prompting you both to chuckle before you pulled her pants and panties down and then stripped yourself, sighing in relief as your cock was released from your pants.

"Come here," Vi instructed you and took a condom from the drawer to put on your cock. You moaned as she touched you, taking her time as she put the condom on your cock, smiling slightly at your reaction and then you were ready. Vi spread her legs and you slowly pushed inside her pussy, both of you moaning at the sensation.

She kissed you, wrapped her legs around your waist and you slowly began thrusting as she met each of your thrusts halfway. You kept that pace, slow, gentle thrusts, precise and deep inside of her, not because you didn't want to go faster, but because your tired bodies refused to comply, yet still craved at the very least this. This feeling of being together, of making love to one another, of your bodies pressed against one another as slow thrusts pulled desperate moans from your throats.

Nothing else mattered, just the two of you, in this moment, like this, lost in the tamed flames of passion, as warm as the wildest fires the two of you tended to burn in. You felt the tension within you, felt your orgasm building up quickly, and the occasional twitches of Vi's body that became more frequent as minutes went by told you she was just as close. "I love you," you whispered, knowing that loving her would always be the easiest thing you'd ever do.

"I love you too," and she kissed you, both of you cumming merely moments apart, breathless, satisfied, and desperate for some much needed sleep.

[justajinx00]

𝓑𝓲𝓰 𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓽 𝓥𝓲 || 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

( @visoceaneyes made a comment about this and I became obsessed a little to much lolol)

EXTREMELY NSFW ‼️ MDNI ‼️

TW: masturbation, clit play, oral (her receiving), twt p link @ the end

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Vi || who's laid out on your bed completely naked just waiting for you to walk in. Her big clit shining and on display.

Vi || who makes you sit and watch as her hand slowly traces down her body where her pulsating clit awaits.

Vi || rubbing her clit inbetween her fingers looking you dead in the eves. Toying with it as her other hand plays with her breast. She circles her finger, her breathing getting harder, her clit slipping around her finger.

Vi || who lets out a moan at the sight of you enjoying her menstruations. Her pussy getting wetter as she pulls at her big clit.

Vi || who lets out a yelp as you finally can't take it anymore and jump on the bed. Your hands immediately at her thighs pushing her legs apart. Vi's head falling back as your thumb pets her clit up and down. The feeling of playing with her juicy clit is intoxicating.

Vi || who feels her clit begin to throb with more pleasure. Moaning as you begin to flick it. Starting off with light flicks, you tested her pain tolerance, slowly building up the strength of your flicks, her clit beginning to pulsate.

Vi || who bites down on her lip to contain the pain and pleasure she feels. Her clit gets puffier and redder as you flick it one more time and finally soothe her with your tongue.

Vi || who trembles under you as your tongue circles around, up and down lapping at her poor clit. Her taste so alluring, and she feels even better under your tongue. You soothe her redness and suck eagerly.

Vi || moans for a long time when you suckle her. Wrapping your lips around her clit feels like heaven to her and you. You think you've just found your new favorite lollipop. You glisten it with your mouth and scrape your teeth gently on it. Earning a large gasp and pornographic moan.

Vi || who begins to shake, her orgasm approaching without her even needing you to touch anywhere else. You suck even harder on her needy clit, and move your hands to start rubbing the outside of her pussy with your thumbs.

Vi || who doenst just orgasm but squirts all over you while her body quakes. Her big clit throbbing in your mouth as your guide her through.

Vi || who's basically almost screaming because she's never had an orgasm like this.

Vi || who looks down at you when it's all over as your head lays on the side and you lap up the juices all over her pussy and clit. Your tongue moving her clit up and down, making her shudder one last time as you both take in the idea that this is your favorite pass time ever.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Twt p link: Vi's big clit

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

This is like the first headcannon thing I've ever written so please be kind! Nice feedback and comments are appreciated <33 thank you so much for reading !! <3

(feel free to jump into my "ask anything" and request whateva 🫶🏻)

[speedilyserratedvalley]

art by

Noi

@mmmeeaou